Secret Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 5

by Loribelle Hunt

  “Are you okay, foxy?” he asked.

  She jerked a nod, shoved at his chest until he stepped back and let her jump down from the counter. He watched as she gathered her clothes. She felt raw and exposed and it wasn’t because of her nakedness. He saw too much when he gazed in her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her as weak or needy, and that was how she felt. She wanted him again already. More than that, she wanted him to just hold her until she felt like herself. Until the world righted itself. This wouldn’t do at all. She stepped toward the door, noticed his eyes narrowing on her and suspected he was about to pounce.

  “I need to get cleaned up. I have that client meeting in an hour,” she reminded him. And she needed to regain her equilibrium. Get back in her right mind before she ran into any of her clan members or family.

  He gave her an abrupt nod but didn’t approach. “We are going to talk about this,” he said, his voice hard and alpha enough to set her teeth on edge. “You can’t keep hiding from me.”

  He might be right, probably was, but she could sure as hell try. She didn’t voice the response, though, just turned and left the room while she still could. If she challenged him so bluntly, she knew there would be no escape.

  Chapter Nine

  The meeting with the client had gone well. The artist had walked through the studio space with her so he could point out what he wanted where while she’d made a floor plan. He was exacting, but she preferred that, actually. It was the wishy-washy clients or the ones with only a vague idea of what they wanted that were a nightmare. She walked him out, chatted a moment more and waved as he walked to his car. Sighing, she shut the door and leaned back against it.

  She’d had to get bitchy to get Patrick to leave. This was her job, her life, and she couldn’t have him hovering all the time. Besides, there was no danger in the middle of the work day with several werewolves in the area. Still his agreement had been a little too easy. Then he laid out his terms. She rolled her eyes. He’d drop her off and pick her up, but at no point was she to leave the house without him. She would have flat-out refused, but he didn’t hide his worry for her. It was clear on his face and in his eyes. The man was going to drive her crazy, but what could it hurt to allow him this little peace of mind?

  Besides, his absence gave her the perfect opportunity to question one of her tormenters. Her eyes narrowed as she caught the faint scent again. Nichols was close, probably outside the back door, which was where she headed next. He didn’t even try to hide as she jerked the door open and glared at him.

  “You’re trespassing,” she snapped.

  “Seemed like the only way to talk to you without your bodyguard.”

  “He’ll be here any minute,” she said, voice so saccharine he blanched. “So talk fast.”

  “Someone has been following me. Is it your people?”

  She wouldn’t put it past Patrick or her father, but if they were, she hadn’t been told. She shook her head. “No.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that. Someone broke into my apartment. I assume that wasn’t y’all either?”

  She was sure she would have heard about that. “Nope.”

  “This is the only thing I’m working on,” he said. “It has to be connected to you.”

  Now, that got her full attention. Nichols had been following her for weeks. What about the other guy? “Your turn. Do you have someone watching me when you can’t?”

  “Hell no. I’m not sharing this story with anyone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “There is no story. There’s no such thing as werewolves.”

  “I’ve seen the evidence, Ms. Reynard. They’re real. You’re real.”

  “A werewolf?” She scoffed, her derision was probably easy to read though he wouldn’t know why. She wasn’t a fucking wolf. For a moment, it looked like he might believe her, then he shook his head. Something else was going on here, and since denials weren’t getting her anywhere, maybe fear would. It wasn’t like he’d have tangible proof if she exposed herself. There were no witnesses. No cameras. She would have scented them.

  She let her animal side rise to the surface, let her senses expand and the predator show in her gaze. His eyes widened and he stepped back but she wasn’t letting him get away that easy. He was making her life hell. Maybe it was time that she return the favor. She grabbed his arm, her claws piercing the leather of his jacket.

  “I was right,” he whispered.

  “No, Mr. Nichols,” she said with a mean smile. “I’m not a wolf.” She let that sink before continuing. “I want to know why you’re so certain I am, however. How did you find me?”

  Patrick stood in the shadows and held his breath. He’d scented a stranger as soon as he arrived. He’d followed the smell around to the back porch to find his mate talking to the interloper. His first reaction was fury when he realized who the man was. Patrick had told her to stay inside. Insisted she stay safe. What had she done? Confronted her enemy. But she was getting that enemy to talk and they needed his information. He’d edged closer so he could listen in. When she’d gone fox, his knees had nearly buckled. She was exposed now. There was no way to hide.

  But damn, was she magnificent.

  He waited to see what she would do next. Waited to see if she needed his help.

  “I have a source,” Nichols answered.

  “The scientists?”

  “No. Someone like you.”

  Patrick stepped forward. If one of theirs had betrayed her, he’d tear the bastard apart limb by limb. “Who?”

  Nichols gaze jumped to him and his fear was easy to read. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “He contacted me. I’ve never met him face to face.”

  “And this man gave you Sara Beth’s name?” he asked softly, allowing the menace he felt to seep into his voice.

  “How did he contact you?” she interrupted, when it was clear Patrick had scared him too much to speak. The reporter’s gaze jerked back to her.

  “He sent me an email. I’ll give it to you.”

  “Yes you will,” Patrick went on in that same lethal tone. “Then you are going away. You won’t come back here and you won’t write about her again.”

  He saw the protest in the man’s eyes but Nichols was smart enough to keep it to himself. Patrick got the information he needed and sent the man away before leading Sara Beth to the car. She didn’t say a word as he held the door for her, but her scent told him everything he needed to know. She was unrepentant but wary. She should be.

  As he slid into the driver’s seat, he felt a tick start in his jaw from clenching his teeth so hard. She hadn’t been in any danger. She could obviously handle the reporter if necessary and he’d been there for backup. But she hadn’t known that and she hadn’t known she was only dealing with that defenseless weasel. He started the car and put it in drive. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.

  “My house is the other way.”

  “We’re going to meet your parents and Michael.”

  She groaned. “Not now, Patrick. I haven’t told them anything and…”

  She trailed off when he growled and turned to look at her. He knew his eyes glowed and he radiated anger and tension. Why wouldn’t he? She’d talked to her parents more than once since he’d claimed her and she hadn’t told them? Why? Was she embarrassed to be mated to a wereeagle? Or that determined to get away from him? He didn’t speak. Wasn’t sure he could without yelling. He just followed the directions Michael had given him.

  He parked on the curb and turned in the seat to face her, stretching his arm along the back to play the ends of her hair through his fingers. He struggled to contain his anger. It was impossible.

  “Why not?” he ground out.

  She pressed her lips together and despite his anger, he wanted to tease her, kiss her into talking with the promise of so much more. Her hand clenched on the door handle.

  “Because I’m a grown woman and I don’t need two alphas trying to interfere with my personal life. And you’re crazy if yo
u think my dad is not going to explode. Michael too, probably.”

  “Why would he object to his only daughter taking a mate? Is it because I’m an eagle?”

  She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “No, it’s because no matter how old they get, fathers don’t want to give up their daughters, and they sure as hell don’t want to admit they’re having sex.”

  Her words stopped his anger cold. That made perfect sense. He didn’t have any sisters and his parents were long dead. He’d never been involved enough with a woman to meet her parents. Suddenly, he was nervous—off balance. Shit.

  Sara Beth smirked at him. “Didn’t even think about that did you, hot shot?” She leaned close and nipped his bottom lip before whispering in his ear. “Consider this training for when you have to deal with your daughter mating.”

  She was out of the car before he could reply. He caught up with her at the door and took her elbow.

  “Our daughter is never leaving the house, much less dating. Forget mating,” he growled.

  She grinned and stepped inside. The little minx was enjoying this. He was going to be put on the spot, probably grilled. She knew it, and planned to enjoy the show.

  “I ordered you to stay with the eagles,” a gruff voice said.

  Patrick stepped around the corner to see a roomful of men. Their collective anger was a violent wave. The air thick with hot spicy scent of it. Her father, Will Reynard, and brothers were the major source of that fury, he guessed. Michael was glaring at Sara Beth, but his scent was subtler. She didn’t quite meet the alpha’s gaze, but she didn’t back down either.

  “I have a business to run,” she said to her father, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “And a perfectly capable bodyguard.”

  Relegated to bodyguard, was he? Not in this lifetime. He stepped up behind her, set his palm on her nape and squeezed as his thumb brushed over his mark. No one missed the possessive, proprietary move. He was suddenly the focus of several angry sets of eyes. Sighing, Sara Beth stepped in front of him. She grabbed his arms when he tried to move around her. Her claws were sharp on skin, just a little more pressure and she would have drawn blood. Her aggression seemed to calm the others in the room, however.

  It had the opposite effect on him. He liked her claws, though not necessarily in this context. He wanted to feel them on him when he was fucking her to ecstasy. He pulled her hands away so he could step forward. Didn’t flinch under the scrutiny of the other men in the room. She was his mate. He would never back down from that.

  Her father stepped forward aggressively, gave his daughter an imperious look. “Step away from him, Sara Beth.”

  She’d been looking for a way to escape him—them—so Patrick was a little surprised when she shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t. Sorry, Dad.”

  So many emotions crossed the other man’s face when he looked at his daughter even Patrick had a hard time chasing them. Love, regret, anger, pride. Then the fox alpha turned a hard gaze on Patrick, and Patrick vowed to have no daughters of his own.

  “We sent her to you for safety,” her father said, disapproval in his voice.

  He shrugged. “She’s mine. She’s safe.”

  “She’s exposed here,” the other man snarled.

  Patrick resented the implication he couldn’t protect his mate. He may not be a king or an alpha but he was more than capable of taking care of his own. There was no way he’d let these men interfere with his life or his mate’s.

  “She won’t be harmed,” he snapped. “And she is no longer your concern.”

  Sara Beth’s claws pricked him again before she stepped away, scowling. “I’m not helpless,” she reminded them.

  She wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t want her defenseless, but he wanted her to know she could depend on him. He wanted her to need him as much as he was coming to need her. It was the primal instincts of his eagle side, but he couldn’t deny the man wanted the same thing.

  “You met with the client?” Will asked, changing the subject to something neutral.

  “I did. I’ll draw the plans tonight and fax them for final approval. The carpenters should be able to get it done in a few days.”

  Her father nodded. “There’s no need for you to be here for that. You can return to the mountain tomorrow morning.”

  Will glared at Patrick, daring him to argue, but he wouldn’t. Patrick hadn’t wanted to bring her down for even two days. As long as her attacker was loose, she was at risk. “Agreed,” he said.

  This time Sara Beth glared at him and her father smiled. “I have a life here, remember?” she groused.

  There was no fucking way he was getting in an argument with her in front of her family. He shrugged. “For the moment, the mountain is the safest place. We have the email address now. It shouldn’t take Nico long to track it down.”

  “What email address?” her father asked.

  “From the guy who gave Nichols my name.”

  “I want that name,” her father said, voice thick and guttural with his animal. The other man’s eyes glittered a demand for vengeance. That was a fury Patrick shared.

  It was Michael’s reaction that raised the hair on Patrick’s neck though. He didn’t think anyone else noticed—Michael’s scent didn’t change—but Patrick had been looking at him when Sara Beth spoke. The werewolf alpha knew more than he’d said. The knowledge flashed across his face so fast Patrick couldn’t be certain he saw it. What the fuck was going on? Patrick didn’t like this situation at all, but he had no reason to suspect Michael. No evidence. Just his gut. But hell, at this point, it was possible he was just suspicious of everyone. The last thing he needed to do was cause an interspecies war by making unfounded accusations. He’d wait to confront Michael when he could get him alone.

  Chapter Ten

  “That asshat. I’m gonna kill him,” Sara Beth muttered, barely holding back a snarl as she stared at her laptop screen. They’d left her father’s house a couple of hours ago and seemed to settle into a companionable silence in her large home office.

  “What?” Patrick asked, but he sounded distracted. Or bored. She ignored the hurt that threatened to claw at her heart.

  His phone rang before she could respond. He answered, stood and walked into the hall to speak in a low voice she couldn’t make out. She glared at the damned screen. One of her pack mates had emailed the link to Nichols’s newest story. She hadn’t expected him to back off, not really, but she’d hoped for a least a few days of respite. Had she got that? Hell no.

  Werefox and were-what? You be the judge!

  The bastard had managed to get a photo of her and Patrick. In front of her house. She bet he was still close. The article claimed a source had confirmed she was a fox shifter, but couldn’t confirm what species her lover was. Her lover? She was so mad she could spit. Though, looking at the photo again, there was no denying Patrick felt possessive of her. He’d kept her close, even for the short walk to the door. One hand on her hip, face all hard lines and glittering eyes.

  Her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID, groaned, and sent it straight to voicemail. She was so not in the mood to deal with her father right now.

  Patrick walked back into the room. They spoke the same words at the same time, reminding her stalkers weren’t the only thing complicating her life. There was a small matter of a new mate bond.

  “We have a problem.”

  “You first,” Patrick said.

  She stood and waved her hand toward her desk. “Nichols isn’t done. I say we kill him and be done with.” She wouldn’t really kill him, but it sounded like a damned fine idea.

  He sat and growled low in his throat as he read. The sound was angry, should have been menacing, but it didn’t scare her in the least. It made her wet. Hungry. His head jerked up, his bright blue eyes clashing with hers, and his nostrils flared. In the time it took her to blink, he was in front of her. Damn, he was fast. It made her wonder for the first time what he was
like in eagle form. He cocked his head.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked as his arms circled her waist.

  Unable to resist him, falling into his eyes, she lifted her hands. Stroked his chest. “I was just wondering what you’re like in your other form,” she whispered, standing on her toes to brush her lips against his.

  His arms tightened around her, a hard, possessive band. She should have protested. Shouldn’t give into him just because he made her hornier than hell. He was a predator—an alpha male to the bone. If she didn’t assert some independence, he’d smother her with protectiveness. Her brain knew all that, understood it, but her body didn’t care. She felt safe in his embrace. She knew he’d never hurt her. Would stand between her and pain if he could. Protect her from the outside human world that didn’t know about them and probably wouldn’t accept them.

  “What’s the other problem?” she asked, voice breathy.

  She fought the need beginning to rage in her body and it was so much more than sex now. She’d grown accustomed to having him around. Had adjusted to his energy in her personal space. He’d already become a part of her daily life. His gaze, his scent, his voice. That deep, smooth baritone that made her body react even when he wasn’t trying.

  He ground his teeth and loosened his hold on her. She stepped back reluctantly, but he nudged her toward the couch when she would have retreated to the relative safety of her desk. She could have maintained some distance between them there at least. Instead, he sat next to her, held her hand and brushed her knuckles with slow gentle strokes. It was a soothing touch, nothing sensual about it, and it freaked her out a little bit. What had that phone call been about?

  “Nico identified your attacker.” He paused and met her gaze. “His name is Victor King. He’s a big game hunter.”

  She blinked. What the fuck? Did he think she was some kind of trophy? No. He hadn’t killed her. He’d used a tranquilizer.