Carson frowned. At some point she'd need to find out the girl's name. It was weird living in the same house without knowing what to call her.
As the group exited the kitchen, Carson hung back.
The blonde was clearing away the mess, moving most of the remainders to the galley kitchen behind the main area. Carson cleared her throat. "Er... I realized I don't know what to call you." Her smile faltered as the blonde turned her cold gaze to her.
"Sara." She uttered the single word as if it were a sharp, pointed weapon.
Carson forced the smile back on her face. "Nice to meet you, Sara."
She was turning to leave when Sara said, "Don't get any ideas."
Carson stopped and frowned. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do. You're not good enough for him, so don't get too comfortable."
Carson shook her head. "Not sure what you mean. I'm just here to sing."
Yes, she was unsure of what Sara meant, but she could guess. And deep down she didn't want to clarify. Her jaw clamped shut and she turned to leave the kitchen, refusing to give the cold girl the satisfaction of her curiosity.
Sara let out a cold laugh. "Enjoy it while it lasts. But don't say I didn't warn you. When he settles down, it won't be with the likes of you."
Carson opened her mouth to ask her what she meant, but Sara turned and left the kitchen, her back stiff.
On the way to the studio Carson pondered Sara's behavior. Was she in love with Marek? Maybe that was the reason for her jealousy? Carson nodded, then put the girl and her pettiness out of her mind as she settled into the day's practice.
She found she enjoyed being a part of the band far more than she'd expected. She'd always been a solo artist, and this experience made her realize she was more versatile than she'd known.
And she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Marek's presence not two feet from her. She was constantly amazed at his talent; his skills with the guitar seemed to fuel the group, and yet she got the feeling that the band itself was a secondary thing to him.
And what about the rest of them?
She was still in the dark as to their real identities, and she wondered why they needed such privacy. Not that she'd pry. It was their business in the end. She was beginning to know them better now.
Rex was the protective big brother type, while Felix was a little on the dangerous side. She'd caught him looking at her, a hungry expression in his eyes. There was a certain feral air about him, as if he was the type to lose control given the chance. She thought it best never to be alone with him.
Pax, on the other hand, was the very epitome of his name. Calm, smiling, always the peacekeeper. He seemed years younger than the rest, likely around her age, though he didn't lack for talent.
Marek was the leader of the pack though, the one they all looked up to. Carson got the feeling that their respect went beyond the mere existence of the band itself, and she wondered if they were related.
Brothers maybe, or cousins?
The day flew by and before they knew it, the session was over. Dinner was a rowdy affair, and when the group invited her to the games room upstairs, giving her a choice of pool, Foosball, or darts, she shook her head as her stomach did a somersault.
She begged fatigue and headed back to her room, soaking in the tub until her skin got all pruney. She almost fell asleep in the heated water and had to drag herself out before she ended up drowning herself.
Overheated now, she drew on a thin nightie and a cardigan, and slipped out of the room. She opened the door at the far end of the hall that led to another small deck. A set of stairs descended to the garden below where the path forked, one in the direction of the front yard, the other leading into the forest.
The darkness should have felt threatening, and yet, Carson felt at home. She pulled the thin cardigan closer, shaking her head at the stupidity of leaving the warmth of the house wearing nothing more than a silky nightie.
She turned to head back inside when the door opened and Marek stepped onto the deck.
20. MAREK
HE'D WATCHED HER THROUGH THE glass door, the silky nightie leaving little to the imagination as she pulled the light cardigan close to her body. He shook his head, asking himself again what he thought he was doing.
He shouldn't be messing around with her. His choice of partner should have been a more serious, formal one. A mate was not an arbitrary choice. In his family, wives were chosen on the basis of the strength of their genetic lines. And humans were not on the list to begin with.
But he couldn't seem to help himself. She was a Siren, after all.
And the best thing about it was that she was his Siren.
Marek pushed open the door and went to her, and when she lifted her face to his, eager for his kisses, he knew the night would drive him to new heights of ecstasy.
21. CARSON
THE DAYS FLITTED BY, THE practice sessions filling her waking moments, Marek filling her nights. They took walks in the forest at night, whispering things to each other in the dark. The raw nature of their trysts seemed to fuel their passion for each other.
Every so often, she'd wonder about protection, but she trusted Marek. He wouldn't lie to her. The only thorn in her side was Sara, whose cold glares hadn't gone unnoticed.
Two weeks had gone by, with the weekends also deemed practice days. They were well on their way to being ready for the tour, and Carson suspected the band was having way too much fun, especially since they'd begun to re-record the album with her as lead vocals.
The day was overcast, black clouds hanging low in the sky. Carson was about to enter the kitchen when the sound of raised voices filtered to her from a room across the hall. She remained where she was, a hand on the threshold as she eavesdropped.
"Have you told her yet?" asked Sara, her voice icy.
"You know I haven't," Marek bit back.
Carson stiffened.
"Of course, you haven't. We'll know when she runs for her life." She let out a cold laugh. The woman was all warmth.
"It's none of your business." Marek sounded angry, and yet he still entertained her.
Sara let out an inelegant snort. "Your mate should be of the right stock. You can't afford to dilute the genes, not right now. Not with everything at stake. Marek, do you really want to throw it all away for her?" Sara's emphasis on her implied that Carson was nothing more than a piece of trash.
Carson's fingers tightened on the wood of the threshold. She didn't want to hear any more, but she remained rooted to the spot.
Marek cleared his throat. "Stay out of my affairs, Sara. I'm not going to warn you again."
"Oh? What are you going to do? You know as well as I do that Aleksander wouldn't be too impressed with your plaything."
A growl erupted from the room and Carson shivered. What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it was her cue to move her ass.
She took a few steps into the kitchen and was fiddling with a blueberry scone when Sara stalked past her, her pale cheeks red, her jaw tight. She didn't even acknowledge Carson, just entered the galley without a word.
Footsteps behind her alerted her to Marek's presence, and she turned. The smile on his face seemed genuine and filled with delight to see her. Whatever that conversation had been about, it didn't seem to have affected Marek's attitude toward Carson.
He came to stand beside her, placing a quick kiss against her neck. But even as she turned to receive more, the sound of Felix's deep laughter filtered down the hall.
Another day passed, this time with Carson feeling a little off. She'd missed her cue twice, and made so many mistakes that even Rex snapped at her.
"Maybe you need a break, Nyx." He got to his feet and shook his head. "Maybe we all need a break. I think I'll head into Crescent City for the day. Who's with me?"
Both Felix and Pax agreed and the session broke up. Even after they'd left, the air simmered with tension.
"What's wrong, Carson?" asked Marek, his voice low, his eyes dark and watchf
ul.
She shrugged. "Nothing." She smiled brightly. "What could possibly be wrong?"
He shook his head and set his guitar on to the stand beside him. He walked toward her, taking the mike from her hand and setting it back on the stand. "Let's go for a walk. You can tell me what's bothering you, or you can keep it to yourself. Either way, the walk will be good for us."
Carson nodded and they headed outside. The air was cool, and the sky so dark that the walk should have been a bad idea. But even as Marek paused to study the clouds, Carson kept walking. Suddenly, the idea of a walk was too good to turn down.
"Carson, wait. It's about to storm."
She didn't answer. She didn't really care. And Marek didn't protest further. He fell in step beside her as they walked the path up the hillside, keeping pace with her even when his long strides forced him to slow down.
She stopped in her tracks so suddenly that it took him a few seconds to realize it. He came to a halt and turned to face her as a fat drop of rain hit her on the forehead.
"What is it?" he asked, his eyes dark.
She sighed and looked up at him. Being out in the open wasn't a good idea. She wasn't dressed for it, her outfit of white tee and tights insufficient protection against the rain.
But as she stared at his face, she realized that whatever they had between them wasn't just a fling. It felt like more than that, but she needed to know how Marek felt about it.
She took a deep breath. "What are we doing?" she asked, her voice low.
The sky grumbled above and more drops hit the ground.
Marek moved closer, placing a palm against her cheek. "What are you asking?" At least he wasn't beating around the bush with his questions.
She stared up at him as rain began to smack against her face. They were standing in a clearing, the grassy forest floor littered with soft leaves. Nature surrounded them and nature now beat down on them from the heavens.
If she believed in signs, then she'd be reading something into the angry force of nature exploding above them.
"I want to know where this is going." She paused, staring at his face, now soaked as the rain fell in sheets. She had to raise her voice so he could hear her. "It doesn't matter to me. If it's only temporary, I can take it."
In fact, as pathetic as it sounded, Carson knew she'd take anything he gave her. Even if he broke her heart when he left her, at least she'd have this time with him to remember him by.
It would have to be enough.
22. MAREK
THE STORM WAS SENDING SHEETS of icy rain down on their heads, and Marek stared at Carson's drenched face. Her midnight hair was pasted flat onto her skull, the wet look ever so sexy, bringing her high cheekbones into prominence.
He tightened his grip on her cheek, his thumb pressing on her chin as he raised her face to him. Her question had struck him to the core.
She'd take anything he gave her.
She wasn't demanding anything of him, and that small token of her feelings was enough to break him. All his life he'd been hard, unreachable. The Alpha male, with all the responsibilities on his shoulders, with a purpose, a path set before him that he hadn't chosen.
Now he stared into the eyes of a woman that he'd chosen. And he knew there was no way in hell he could turn away from her.
"What if I don't want it to be temporary?" he said softly.
The thunder crashed around them and yet she'd heard him. Her eyes widened, lighting up as she began to smile. Then the smile disappeared and she shook her head.
"You don't have to say that, you know. You don't have to worry about me."
Marek laughed, the sound drowned by the force of the rain. "I am worried about you." He bent closer to her. "I'm worried that you'll turn me down. I'm worried that you'll leave me when all I want is for you to stay with me. To never leave me."
The look on her face was enough.
He bent and kissed her, the heat flaring in his veins. He kissed her over and over, desperate for more. And she kissed him back, as wild and passionate as he was.
He reached for her tee, dragging the sopping garment over her head, a growl rumbling within him when he found her searching fingers desperately tugging his shirt from his waist.
Clothes fell to the ground as he claimed her mouth again. She was hot, despite the cold rain that drenched them. He kissed her neck and throat, tasting her, tasting the clean rain on her skin. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples taut under the onslaught of the icy rain. The cold turned to searing flame as his mouth closed over her nipple, heating up as he sucked hard, until he heard her cry out for more.
He lay her on the ground and stared at the beauty of her arching body. The rain pebbled her skin, pooling in the indentation at the base of her throat, collecting in a little pool in her navel.
He bent over her, his tongue dipping into the water, drinking from her. She gasped, his hips tilting toward him. His hands stroked her hips, her stomach, up to her breasts again. He kissed her belly, leaving a thread of hot kisses and tender bites as he blazed a trail first to her hipbone, then down the length of those delicious thighs, stopping short of her core. He spread her legs open, baring her to him, baring her heated flesh to the cool rain and the dark heavens.
Before he slipped his finger into her slit, he knew she'd be hot and slick and ready for him. She cried out, the sound stolen by a gust of wind.
When he placed his mouth over her slick folds, she bucked against him, but he held her firm, opening her wider as he plunged his tongue deep within her, using his tongue to make her wild. He sucked her clit, his tongue circling the hard nub, feeling her thighs clench, her breathing come in short bursts.
Before she came, he thrust his arm around her waist and lifted her off the grass, flipping her around until she was on her knees. She let out a squeak, then moaned as he slid a finger inside her again. This time he didn't wait. He knew she was there, teetering on the brink of exploding. He grabbed her thighs, spreading her wide, and sank deeply inside her.
On his knees, he held her tight, pulling her on to his lap. She squeaked as she teetered forward. "I got you. I won't let you fall," he said, plunging into her. She leaned back, arching her body, angling her mouth toward him and as he kissed her, he drove deeper into her.
Her thighs clenched and her body began to convulse, and Marek slammed into her one last time. They exploded together as lightning struck above them and thunder crashed, enveloping them with the raw power of nature.
He'd never felt anything so perfect in his life.
23. CARSON
AFTERWARD, THEY LAY THERE IN the rain, naked under the steel sky. She should have felt exposed, but strangely, she felt one with nature, as if this part of her had lain dormant all these years.
With Marek, anything seemed possible.
When she shivered, he shifted and got to his feet. "We'd better get inside before you freeze to death." He smiled as she struggled to pull the wet tee back over her head.
Dressing in the sodden clothes seemed silly, but she did it anyway, feeling a little shy now that the mood had lightened.
"That's a good look on you." Marek teased, his eyes settling on the wet fabric as it clung to her breasts.
She swiped at him but didn't bother to cover herself as they headed back toward the house. But before they left the cover of the trees, Marek stopped.
"Carson," he said, his voice holding a note of seriousness that made her come to a standstill.
She turned to him, worried now. "What's wrong?"
"There's something I need to tell you. Something you deserve to know before you go ahead with this," he said, as he moved his hand back and forth to indicate the two of them.
"Okay," she said slowly, wary now, watching his eyes darken. Whatever he wanted to tell her, it looked like he was struggling with it. She placed a hand on his forearm. "Whatever it is, you can tell me," she said, her tone encouraging and comforting.
But it seemed to do nothing to ease the troubled expression in
his eyes. He shook his head. "I'm not sure you'll agree once you hear the truth."
She faced him, folding her arms across her chest. "Talk." She spoke the word firmly. It annoyed her that he was making assumptions about her potential reaction.
Whatever he wanted to say, it couldn't be all that bad.
He cleared his throat and stepped away, out of her grasp. "You need to know the truth about who I am." He paused and looked at her. "About what I am."
Then she stiffened. "Is it because of your gypsy heritage? Is that what you're worried about telling me?"
He shook his head.
She knew now it was a waste of time to urge him on. He'd speak at his own pace and she let him. His struggle was real; she could see it in the vein at his temple, in the tightness of the muscles in his neck.
He looked at her. "My family is old; the line goes back more than a thousand years. Yes, we're gypsy, but we're more than that. Or worse than that, depending on how you look at it." He let out a cold laugh, turning to stare off into the trees.
The rain was abating, softening as it hit their skin.
"We're from the Carpathian Mountains. It's not our origin that's a problem though. It's our species."
"Species?" Carson shook her head. This was beginning to sound crazy.
Marek growled, the sound so reminiscent of what she'd overheard when he'd been talking to Sara that she shivered.
He met her eyes, his spine tense. "I'm descended from a very rare line of Carpathians. Our family has always had the ability to shift."
"Shift?" This was getting weirder and weirder. Then she stiffened. "Marek, I can see you're having doubts. You don't have to make up wild stories because you want to back away from this relationship. I understand if you want to change your mind."
He was shaking his head now, his skin flushed. "No. That's not what I meant. I owe it to you to tell you the truth about who I am. Being with me can be dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Carson asked. Then she gasped. "Someone did try to kill you."
A Siren for the Bear (Sarkozy Brothers Book 1) Page 6