Crossroads

by Moira Rogers

  “Yes, you can, because you have to.” She pulled free of his arms. “Did you find out what’s for dinner?”

  “Uh-uh. I delegated.”

  “Of course you did.” One more kiss, and she pulled him toward the kitchen. “Let’s go help. Well, you can help. I’ll watch.”

  “Or we can both watch.” His fingers tightened around hers. “Fighting Conclave members to the death is one thing, but I’m not invading Gus’s territory without permission.”

  She didn’t blame him. “Fair enough. We’ll stand here and make out, then.”

  For the first time in weeks, Michelle surprised her with a laugh. “No, you won’t. You two had better get out of the way before this baby decides his mommy’s too hungry and moves you himself.”

  Nick felt weak with relief. Michelle would be okay. It wouldn’t be quick or easy, but nothing good ever was. Life goes on, and the very fact that her sister could still laugh through her pain made it all right for Nick to move on as well, to make plans and look forward to the life she and Derek could make together.

  She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. “Lesson number one, baby. Never get between a Peyton and food. Learn it, live it, and you’ll be just fine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Oh God.” Nick couldn’t hold back her moan as she clutched Derek’s arm. “Oh God, try this one. It’s a caramel.”

  “Christ, no more.” Derek laughed and swatted at her hand, but his eyes glinted when the chocolate dropped from her fingers to land between her breasts. His grin turned to a leer as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Unless I get to lick it off you.”

  “Fine chocolate,” she declared, “is messy. And since my only other option is to clean it up with the sheets…” She leaned back on the pillows and flashed him an expectant look.

  His tongue teased up her stomach, hot and taunting, but he caught the chocolate between his teeth and sat up without following through. “No way, evil temptress,” he said as soon as he’d swallowed the caramel. “You’re not fooling me into another round of hot, sweaty birthday sex until you open your present.”

  “I already have everything I want.” She had more than everything. She’d never imagined the kind of satisfaction that came from having instead of constantly wanting.

  “Too bad.” He leaned over the side of the bed, so far she worried for a moment that he’d pitch off the edge. He resurfaced with a long, neatly wrapped package.

  It couldn’t have been his own handiwork, because he’d joked about his poor wrapping skills when he’d given Michelle her gift. Nick took the package and stared at it. “You brought me here, Derek. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t buy you anything.” He cleared his throat and nodded to the carefully folded paper. “Your sister wrapped it. If you don’t open it, she’ll pout.”

  She tore at the package, and the paper fell away to reveal a carved wooden box. “You made me a jewelry box? It’s…” Her voice failed her when she opened the lid on its delicate hinges.

  A gold ring she recognized instantly sat nestled on the top tier of the jewelry box, its glittering diamond catching the dim light. “My mother’s ring.”

  He leaned close behind her, and his whisper skated across her shoulder. “Your father gave it to me the night after the fight.”

  The ring had been one of her only links to her mother, a tangible reminder that she’d had one, and Nick had spent a good portion of her childhood romanticizing it. Her hands shook, rattling the box as she caught Derek’s gaze. “That he would do that means a lot, but you—you shouldn’t feel pressured to give it to me. We have time—”

  “Pressured?” He made an amused noise. “Baby, I hope your father never tells you how he ended up giving me that thing, because I vaguely recall a morphine-induced rant about how I’d love you more with one arm than any man could with two, and if he didn’t like it I’d send him a postcard from Vegas.” He plucked the ring from its resting place and held it up. “He spent twenty minutes convincing me my arm was still there and came back that night with the ring.”

  Trying to imagine her father’s reaction to Derek’s belligerent, intoxicated challenge elicited a slightly hysterical giggle. “You want to marry me so badly that you went toe-to-toe with the Alpha?”

  “Mmm, and I still thought I only had one arm, so that would’ve been a short fight.” His lips brushed her cheek. “Marry me, Nick. Marry me and keep me out of trouble.”

  She turned her head and whispered against his mouth. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as how I love you madly and never want to be without you.”

  He nipped her lower lip. “Don’t need a big wedding, just family. Kat, your dad, your sister and Luke.”

  “I think everyone else will understand.”

  “If you want something crazy fancy, I’ll do it for you. I’d do anything for you.”

  “Fancy’s not my style. Barefoot on the beach, maybe.” They could work out the details later. Right now, all she needed was him, so she climbed into his lap and slid her arms around his neck. “I don’t expect you to do anything like that for me. Just love me.”

  “Love me back enough to let me,” he countered.

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Still, she held out her left hand.

  He eased the ring onto her finger with a wide, goofy smile. “I love you a whole damn lot, Nicole Parker Peyton.”

  Her heart was going to pound out of her chest. The ring was warm from his hand, and she stared at it for a moment, wondering. “How am I this lucky?”

  “Dunno.” His lips brushed hers, tender and perfect. “Think for a few decades and let me know what you figure out.”

  “Deal.” She pushed him to the bed, mindful of his healing shoulder, and kissed him back.

  There were no more words, nothing but whispered pleas and hitching breaths. She took her time, exploring him with her hands and lips and tongue, a memorization and a promise that it wouldn’t be the last time. It was only the beginning, and she felt dizzy, almost giddy, every time he arched under her. It was the same thing she’d felt since he’d won his challenge and staked his claim on her, belonging and contentment and happiness, so entwined that sex seemed like an afterthought and a necessity, all at once.

  Love. He reached for her, his hands shaking as he drew her close to his chest and thrust into her. Every pulse of pleasure burned hotter than the last, and she whispered to him between kisses. “Love you.”

  “Love you.” The words rode a rumbling growl. “Need you.”

  Yes, that’s what it was. Need, pure and perfect. Undeniable. There was nothing in the world she needed so much as him, and nothing she couldn’t handle as long as she had him. Everything else would work out, if only because they cared enough to try, to keep working until they found a solution.

  Nick lay against his chest, trembling and sated. This is where I belong.

  She didn’t know she’d said the words aloud until Derek chuckled hoarsely and stroked his fingers through her hair. “That’s right, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter if we’re in New York, New Orleans or the back of Wyoming. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”

  “Together.” It seemed like such a simple thing, but they’d had to fight so hard for it. There would still be obstacles, problems she couldn’t even begin to foresee or fathom, but it didn’t matter. They’d face them.

  Together.

  Not ready to leave the world of Southern Arcana? The story continues with Alec and Carmen in book three, Deadlock.

  The Southern Arcana Series

  Want to keep up with the latest Moira Rogers releases? Subscribe to the announcement list to receive release-day alerts and news about special events and signings. You can also keep up with the author on Facebook.

  Are you interested in more tales of forbidden love, magical
battles, and spell casters and shapeshifters fighting corruption in their hidden world? There are plenty of adventures left to enjoy…

  Crux: A woman’s discovery of her supernatural heritage plunges her into the midst of a new and terrifying world, one where her past defines her destiny and falling in love with the wrong man—like the spell-slinging investigator who sets her heart racing—could be her downfall.

  Crossroads: Duty and desire stand on opposite sides of the fine line a shapeshifter princess must walk. Falling in love is dangerous enough. Falling in love with a man who was turned into a wolf instead of born as one means risking everything—her family, her heart…and possibly his life.

  Deadlock: A human daughter isn’t of much value to a shapeshifter family unless magic can wake her inner wolf. But playing with powerful spells is dangerous. The only man who can help her is the most powerful wolf in New Orleans—and her family’s enemy.

  Cipher: The psychic gift of empathy can be a blessing or a curse. For one girl, it’s a deadly weapon. She killed once to protect the man she loves. Now he’s a lethal alpha wolf ready to do anything to protect her. But the greatest danger they pose could be to each other.

  Impulse: It’s hard to be a rare submissive shifter in a town full of over-protective alphas. Especially for a woman desperate to claim her own independence. Avoiding dominant wolves is the easy answer, but the only man who makes her feel strong is one of the most powerful wolves in the Southeast—a man whose family would kill to protect their legacy.

  Enigma: Two bounty hunters. One mystery. On the clock, they’re the perfect supernatural-crime-solving team. After hours, she’s ready to rock his world. But he won’t settle for just her body. Daring to risk her heart might be the first fight she loses, and the stakes have never been higher. Because he’ll sacrifice anything for her. Even his life.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from Deadlock, book three in the Southern Arcana series…

  He’s no one’s hero. She’s no one’s pawn. And now they’re caught in the crossfire…

  Deadlock

  © 2011 Moira Rogers

  Southern Arcana, Book 3

  Abandoned by her wolf shifter father and raised by her human psychic mother, Carmen Mendoza can’t deny she’s different. She craves things most women shy away from—and she has a trail of shapeshifting ex-boyfriends to prove it.

  Working at a clinic for supernatural creatures, she’s escaped the notice of her father’s legacy-obsessed family. Until they need a pawn in their bid for power. Snared by a vicious spell designed to wake her inner wolf, Carmen’s only hope is to trust the one man strong enough to soothe her darkest instincts.

  Alec Jacobson was once the heir apparent to the wolves’ ruling elite, until he walked away to marry the woman he loved. She paid with her life. Now he lives as a rebel, a black-sheep alpha who protects the supernatural residents of New Orleans from the wolves’ barbaric class system. Too bad he can’t protect himself from his need for Carmen.

  Yet staking his claim on his enemy’s niece will turn his city into a battleground. Unless he can find a way to stop breaking the rules—and start making them.

  Warning: This book contains a renegade alpha wolf, a smart empathic doctor, very dirty sex with psychic safe-words, the occasional dominance game in and out of the bedroom, and a group of supernatural citizens ready to take on the corrupt leaders of their world.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Deadlock:

  Carmen slowed and spun, walking backwards. “How long have you lived here?”

  “This house?” He slowed too, to a casual amble. “Bought it…oh, nine or ten years back.”

  “And do you do this often?”

  “Run? Or chase women through the woods?”

  “That’s chivalrous of you, to keep pretending you’re the one doing the chasing here.”

  One eyebrow quirked up. “You’re right. If I were really chasing you, you’d be under me already.”

  “Now there’s a thought.” She had to get used to the blatant, idle flirtation. She couldn’t get aroused every time he said something like that, or she’d be perpetually horny—and frustrated. “I meant your obvious role as protector and mentor. Do you have a lot of new wolves beating down your door?”

  “A few,” he acknowledged with that infuriating little smile. “Someone has to take care of them, and I’m good at it.”

  And he needed it. She might never hear the admission from his lips, but she felt it plainly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re going to trip and break your neck if you keep walking backwards on this path.”

  She stopped. “I was trying not to be rude.”

  He jerked his chin toward the path. “Quarter mile, maybe a little more. There’s a nice clearing. I’ll give you a ten-second head start.”

  The predatory glint in his eyes stole her breath and kicked her heart rate into high gear. “Head start for what?”

  “Before I chase you. For real.”

  She had to be crazy to consider it, even if the thought made her body buzz. “And then what? More dirty talk because you can’t sleep with me, but you can sure the hell torture me with your eyes and muscles and ridiculously hot voice?”

  He actually laughed. “Can’t do much to fix any of that. I could back off, I guess, but you’re not going to like that much better.”

  “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.” She didn’t feel like a crazed animal, but she’d never been quite so moved by feral instinct, either. “Go easy on me, would you?”

  Pacing herself wasn’t a problem, not if it was only a quarter of a mile, so Carmen ran hard, pushing herself almost at a sprint. Soon, the near-echo of trampled brush drifted from behind her, and she smiled through her panting.

  He let her get three long strides into the clearing before he tackled her, somehow twisting their bodies as they fell so she sprawled across his chest. His low, delighted laughter curled around her, warm as the arms that circled her waist. “Easy as I get.”

  Too easy. Too intimate. She wiggled out of his arms and landed on the ground beside him. “You smile like you’re not used to it, did you know that?”

  Laughter died, and he twisted his head to stare at her. “It’s been a while. Only other person willing to poke at me until I laugh is Kat. I always figured she did it because she knows I’m not going to kill her, even if I’m glaring like I want to. An empathy thing.”

  “Maybe.” She wanted to reassure him with her touch, but she thrummed with a sexual awareness he could surely sense. “Is everyone else so careful with you because they’re scared?”

  “Some of them are.” He slid his fingers over hers, his hand a heavy weight. “What do you feel? Beneath the sex, what does my power feel like?”

  Dominant. Implacable. “You’re strong, and you’re intense.” All things so wound up in her attraction to him that there could be no separation.

  “And I’m a little crazy. Or I act that way enough that everyone thinks it’s true. Better if most of the scary people in town are wary of pissing me off.”

  “Makes sense.” His hand was huge, warm and a bit rough. She wanted to feel it on her body, sliding down her back and curling around her hip to hold her still for a hard, demanding thrust.

  The mental image formed so quickly that all she could do was bite her lip as she blinked and willed it away.

  His fingers tightened around hers. “I hate not knowing what to do. If I’ll hurt you more leaving you alone, or by giving you what you crave. I don’t want to hurt you at all. Do you have any fucking idea how long it’s been since I didn’t know what to do?”

  “You’re too hard on yourself,” she admonished. “It isn’t your job to keep me from hurting, and no one knows everything all the time.”

  “It’s my job to keep from hurting you.” He lifted his hand and hers with it, sliding it up until they
pressed into the grass over her head. Then he released her and rolled to his side, propped up on his elbow so the bulk of his body loomed above her. “It’s all a damn excuse. It’s my job, and I’d be doing it anyway…but that’s not why I’m doing it now.”

  It was the most nonsensical thing she’d heard in a while. “Are you saying you want to protect me?”

  “I’m saying I want to protect you.” His free hand landed on her stomach, skimming up to skip over her breasts and land on her collarbone. “You’re not scared of me. Even when I’m acting crazy.”

  “Because you’re not crazy.” She caught his hand and held it still. “Don’t do this just because you think I need it. It’s not worth it.”

  His eyes looked so dark they might as well have been black. “Honey, I thought you were an empath.”

  “You know what I mean. If you still think I’m not in my right mind, the guilt would kill you, and I only want you to feel good about this.”

  He considered that for a moment, then guided her other hand up above her head. “I’m going to kiss you. Deep. Hard. You okay with that?”

  He’d urged her into a position of submission—both hands over her head, her body stretched out beneath his—and it made her shake with anticipation. “More than okay.”

  “You want me to stop, you say stop.” One hand curled around both of her wrists, gentle but unyielding. “You want more, ask for it. Okay?”

  Carmen pulled against his grasp, not to free herself but to test his strength. He held tight, her eyes fluttered shut under a wave of need. “Yes.”

  His free hand settled at her hip in a possessive grip. Power built in the space between them, a slow, steady rise that mirrored the dark heat in his eyes as he lowered his mouth, lips barely touching hers. “Let me in.”

  The command released something inside her, a tension she hadn’t noticed before he eased it, and she closed her eyes again. Honesty was one thing, even a kiss…