AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012

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AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012 Page 4

by Caryn Moya Block


  Grigori felt Melisande's melancholy coming through the mating bond that linked them together. He went to the phone and ordered brunch food, coffee and tea. With the officers on guard, they would have little privacy, but that wouldn't stop him from holding and comforting his mate.

  "When the food arrives, please let the deliveryman in, Kincaid. I am going to talk with Miss Reule.”

  "Yes, sir,” Kincaid said.

  Grigori picked up the suitcase and walked into the bedroom. Melisande sat on the bed, looking pensive as she gazed at the vase of flowers on the nightstand. He sat down beside her and put his arms around her.

  "I am so sorry, Melika, to be the cause of your pain and confusion. Can you forgive me?" he asked, drawing her close and offering comfort with his touch.

  "Don't be silly," she said. "You didn't cause this. That man, Funenko, is to blame, not you.”

  "But he targeted you because of me. It was never my wish to bring harm or danger to you. I will protect you, mate.”

  "I know, Grigori. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. Yesterday, I was here to enjoy the sights and work on tapestries. Today, I am trying to stay away from a killer. My room was broken into. Strangers touched my things. I feel violated.”

  "I would take it all away, lyubov moya, if I could. And when I know you are safe, I will go after Funenko and remove this danger from you.”

  "But then the danger is in losing you. I don't want you hurt, Grigori. Let the police handle this. It’s their job.”

  "Do not worry about me, milaya moya. Hunting men like Funenko is what I do for Inspector Lewis. If Funenko isn’t found by the time my cousin and his friend arrive, I will join Lewis in his hunt.”

  "For now, can you please hold me? For just a moment I want to forget all this. I don't want to think about anything except how it feels having your arms around me.”

  "I will never let you go, Melika.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Grigori held Melisande and sent her reassurance through the heartmate bond. He felt concerned about her melancholy mood. He hated to think how much his mate's life had changed in a few short hours. It was understandable that she felt overwhelmed.

  When he’d first seen her in the lobby, she was bright and full of life, and now she looked unsure of herself. Grigori knew the blame rested squarely on his shoulders. He wasn't certain how to give her back the self-assurance she now lacked.

  When Grigori heard the room-service cart arrive, he urged Melisande to come and eat. She had asked for coffee at eight, and now it was almost ten. Maybe once she ate, she would feel better.

  Grigori did not want his mate overwhelmed. A wave of rage caught him, making him tremble. He felt his canines lengthen and his claws break through the tips of his fingers. Melisande cried out and buried her face in his chest, reacting to the rage flowing through the mating bond. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen the sudden changes that had come over him.

  Grigori fought to subdue his wolf and make sure his claws didn’t touch his mate. Funenko would stop frightening his mate, or Grigori would rip his throat out.

  He knew Melisande picked up his emotions through the link. He forced his rage back behind barriers of cold logic. Funenko had found out about Melisande's appointment with Lady Ashtown. Grigori and his mate must be on their guard. Could Funenko move this quickly to strike? Grigori wasn't taking any chances.

  Grigori led Melisande into the living room, and served her a plate of eggs and scones. He poured her a cup of coffee and sat with her as she ate. She hadn’t slept much the night before, and after she finished eating, he planned to suggest a nap. He knew she wanted to be at her best when meeting with Lady Ashtown.

  Melisande caught the full force of Grigori's rage at Pavel Funenko coming through the mating bond. She received a clear mental picture from Grigori of a wolf ripping Funenko’s throat out. She hoped Funenko would never be foolhardy enough to let Grigori catch him. When she’d touched her datebook in her rooom, she’d picked up some very disturbing vibes and knew Funenko was a sick, evil man. Melisande shivered again. She didn’t understand why Grigori thought in terms of a wolf. But the message was clear. He wanted Funenko dead. It felt strange to be sharing thoughts and feelings with another human being. She knew Grigori tried to block his feelings behind cold logic. But still, trickles of concern and warmth, which might be love, came through.

  Melisande wondered briefly how it would feel to have the full force of Grigori's feelings for her coming through the link. Everything about him from his rage to his concern was so strong. What would one hundred percent of Grigori's love feel like?

  Melisande tried to eat the food Grigori offered her. Knowing Fumenko had searched through her things still bothered her. The energy of his touch felt like that of a menacing predator. It was dangerous and meant her harm.

  The food smelled good. She took a small bite but found Grigori’s concern a distraction she couldn't overcome. Her stomach was tied up in knots, and she didn’t think she could eat. She took a sip of coffee and peeked up to find him watching her, his eyes filled with worry.

  Melisande didn't want Grigori worrying about her. She wanted him to be focused on staying safe. After she had sensed Funenko’s personality by touching her things, she believed he was a real danger. But Grigori didn't seem alarmed about him, which only made her irritated. If she was in danger, then so was he.

  "Eat, milaya moya. You need to be at your best for Lady Ashtown.”

  "What does that mean, ‘milaya moya’?"

  "It is Russian for ‘My Sweet.’”

  Melisande stopped talking. Officer Kincaid was in the room, and she didn't feel completely comfortable with him listening to their private conversation. She knew Grigori had led the officers to think they were engaged. He probably needed a way to defend her moving in with him. Grigori hadn’t declared his love or offered her a ring. Why should he?

  They’d known each other for only two days. Even with this heartmate bond thing, it hadn't gone that far. Melisande didn't know Grigori well enough for a forever commitment, did she? She was sure he would walk away once the danger to her was past. He felt responsible and, being an Old World kind of guy, believed it was his duty to protect her.

  For now, she would try to stay safe and do the work Lady Ashtown hired her for. Having Grigori around was a nice side benefit.

  Grigori growled low in his throat. He heard Melisande's thoughts clearly.

  "If you are finished eating, I would suggest a rest before your appointment. I would also like to speak with you a moment,” he said. "Officer Kincaid, if you will excuse us, we will be unavailable for a time.”

  Grigori took Melisande’s hand and led her into the bedroom. He closed and locked the door, then made sure the drapes were closed so Funenko couldn’t watch them. He grabbed Melisande’s arms. She gasped, and Grigori immediately gentled his hold on her, angry that he’d allowed his frustration to frighten her.

  "Shh, detka, forgive me, Melisande. I know this is all new, and with the danger you are now in, you are confused. But I want you to understand me, so please listen carefully. You are my mate. To my people, you are already my wife. I will never let you go.”

  "How can you say that? You don't even love me. You haven't asked me to be your wife. I'm not sure I would say yes, if you did ask. I refuse to marry a man without a loving relationship.”

  "Love will come, mate. For now, understand this is forever, whether you want to believe it or not,” he said. "You are driving me crazy with your doubts. If you didn't want me, the mating bond would not be present.”

  Melisande studied Grigori as he held her. She realized he wasn't angry, as much as hurt. She reached up and caressed his face. He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes.

  "Of course, I want you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

  Grigori groaned and pulled her close for a kiss. He must have her again. He needed to reassure himself she wasn't going to disappear.

  Grigori undressed both of them and caressed Me
lisande, ensuring her pleasure before his own. He wondered when he had become so needy. But as he buried himself within Melisande's heat, he knew it was his fear of losing her, not only to danger but also to his own stupidity, that worried him.

  Grigori had never expected to have a mate. He had never thought he would find the person who would complete him. Knowing he had found her made his world seem fragile and precarious. Only when he held Melisande in his arms did he feel grounded.

  When Melisande came apart, Grigori followed her into the peace that only she gave him. Still holding her close, he fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Melisande knew why Grigori slept. He had exhausted himself with worry. He held her close against him, her head on his chest. She felt his concern, as well as an all-consuming love for her, coming through the heartmate bond. She smiled to herself as she ran her fingers through his chest hair. He loved her. He hadn't told her, and she realized that he thought emotions would weaken him. But he loved her. Men were so silly sometimes, thinking emotions made them weak.

  She followed the love coming through the mating bond that tied their hearts together. Suddenly, she was in his mind.

  He was a man who deeply loved his people, his Alpha, his family, and, yes, he loved her as well. She saw his memories—boys he mentored and the cousin he raised. There were a lot of memories of wolves running and hunting and playing.

  Surprised at the vivid images, Melisande wondered if he studied wolves or lived near a wolf reserve.

  Melisande moved forward in his thoughts and found the memories of him helping Scotland Yard and the Russian police as they tried to combat the criminal element.

  She gasped when she saw the memory of the near miss during the arrests here in London. Ralf Lewis was lucky to be alive. Grigori had pushed him out of the way of a bullet, saving him from dying.

  But Melisande also felt Grigori’s fear of discovery. Why he was afraid and of what, she wasn't sure.

  She wondered about the heartmate bond, and as if her questions guided her, she now found memories of other couples Grigori knew who were bonded. Each time a new couple came into focus, she saw the heartmate bond clearly.

  Grigori felt the bond was between soul mates and indicated a true love match. He was terrified of losing her. Melisande wanted to remove his fear. Now, as she shared his memories, she knew he loved her. She realized that finding each other was a gift.

  Melisande now knew he would be demanding and protective of her, but also kind and gentle with her. He really did want forever with her. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Grigori was so much more than what she first thought he was.

  Melisande snuggled closer and caressed Grigori's face and hair. She knew, as well as she knew her name, that Grigori needed her. He would never do anything solely for himself. But he wanted her to belong to him. She kissed him lightly. He was hers, and she was keeping him. She fell asleep, holding him gently.

  Grigori awoke with a start. Melisande was sleeping peacefully in his arms. He felt her emotions coming through the heartmate bond. She was surprisingly content. He felt glad she was no longer afraid, but wasn't sure how it had happened. He brushed her hair back from her face and pressed little butterfly kisses on her eyes and nose. Glancing at the clock, he knew there was still time to stay in bed. Pulling her closer, he happily watched her snuggle into a comfortable position. She was content with him in her sleep. He lay still, holding her, enjoying how happy it made him to do so.

  Grigori woke Melisande in plenty of time to dress and eat a sandwich. He watched her as she ate. His love for her was so deep that he ached with it. After she had dressed in a silk business suit, she looked ready to take on the world. She radiated confidence and a complete lack of worry. Melisande was going to impress Lady Ashtown. She was one of the premier textile specialists, and she knew it.

  When the call came, saying the car and driver waited downstairs, Grigori spoke quietly with Kincaid and Hampton. Melisande picked up her purse and testing kit and walked to the door. She allowed Officer Hampton to carry her kit for her. Grigori took her arm and tucked her into his side. He felt very possessive, but Meli seemed to accept it and smiled up at him.

  Officer Kincaid led the way down the hall as Officer Hampton fell in behind. Grigori kept Melisande between the officers and sheltered her with his larger frame. They moved through the lobby and into the waiting car.

  "Did anyone contact Lady Ashtown?" Melisande asked once they were all inside the vehicle.

  "Yes, Miss Reule. Lady Ashtown was informed of the danger but believes her security is up to the challenge,” Officer Kincaid said.

  "Well, that's good, then,” Melisande said. “I can't wait to see her collection of tapestries. It is rumored to be one of the best in the world.”

  "Why did they call you in, Miss Reule, if you don't mind my asking?" Officer Hampton said.

  "Lady Ashtown found a new piece she needs authenticated. That's what I'm here to do.”

  Melisande continued her conversation with the two officers, going into details of weft threads and warp threads, dying and spinning of wool. She captivated both officers completely. Grigori would have felt left out, except Melisande kept her hand firmly in his. She would occasionally squeeze his hand or pat it when making a point.

  Grigori felt Melisande’s excitement for the job ahead, as well as her happiness, coming through the mating bond. Their telepathic link was growing stronger and stronger. Soon they would be able to speak mind to mind, as well as share memories and thoughts. Grigori feared Melisande would learn the secret of his wolf. He didn’t know how she would react.

  When the car pulled into the formal drive at Lady Ashtown’s place in the Kensington section of London, Grigori welcomed the change and the increased awareness. He was a man of action. Dealing with having a mate kept him in his head, when he needed to be concentrating on his senses and the hunt for danger. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades. Someone was watching them. He felt the malicious intent.

  As if the officers felt it as well, everyone became focused on the business of keeping Melisande safe.

  When the car stopped, Kincaid went out the door and scouted the terrain. The brick walkway led up to a small flight of stairs and the front entrance, which a liveried servant now opened. Officer Hampton exited next and moved around the car. Then Grigori stepped out of the car. He reached back in for Melisande's hand and guided her out. The three men surrounded her and ushered Melisande into the foyer of the grand hall. As the servant closed the large carved double doors, Grigori turned to Kincaid.

  "Get an officer to check the neighborhood around the house,” Grigori admonished. “Someone watched us. I felt it.”

  "I had the same feeling myself, sir. Now with you safe inside, Hampton and I will take a look around.”

  A cultured voice, pitched high enough to bring pain to the ears, came from down the hall. Grigori winced and turned to see the woman from the hotel approaching them. The statuesque brunet was not wearing her large hat, but other than that looked similar to the last time he’d seen her. She had on grey slacks and a turquoise blouse. She walked down the wooden paneled hallway with an air of supreme confidence. She was somebody, and she knew it.

  Grigori moved closer to Melisande, his arm automatically encircling her waist. He wanted to show his support and felt Meli gathering her energy to deal with her client. The officers spoke quietly to the staff member who had opened the door earlier, leaving Melisande to deal with this first encounter with Lady Ashtown.

  "Sandy, darling, you're finally here. Come tell me all about this danger that has befallen you, and who is this handsome gentleman?" Lady Ashtown asked.

  "This is Grigori Solovyov, he is . . .”

  "Her fiancé,” Grigori finished for her. He stepped forward, taking Lady Ashtown's hand. He bowed over it and placed a kiss near her knuckles.

  Melisande watched in disbelief, as Lady Ashtown blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. Grigori oozed charm when he wanted to.
Melisande glanced around the foyer and noted the wooden paneling, marble floors, and gilt-framed paintings. The Ashtowns’ London residence was a grand Victorian home that glittered with the ambiance of their lifestyle.

  "Sandy, where ever did you find him?” Lady Ashtown asked. “So Mr. Solovyov, may I call you Grigori, will you be staying in London long?"

  Grigori looked back at Melisande and winked. He allowed Lady Ashtown to take his arm and lead him deeper into the house. He delighted in the sparks in Melisande's eyes as she was forced to pick up her kit and hurry after them, her heels clicking on the hard floor.

  Melisande felt a flash of jealousy. She watched Lady Ashtown drape herself over Grigori's arm as if she owned him. Then she led him down the marble-floored hall into the depths of the home. A sudden image of a spider with a fly came to mind. Melisande hurried after the pair, wondering if Grigori would need rescuing in the near future. Not that he deserved it the way he flirted with Lady Ashtown.

  Grigori was her fiancé after all, even though he hadn’t asked her to marry him. He had told her his people already considered them married. How dare he charm Lady Ashtown and allow her to lead him away? Melisande was the one here to give Lady Ashtown her expertise, not Grigori. And why did that woman always call her Sandy?

  Melisande hurried after them, thinking how irritating she found the whole experience. They turned a corner into a large room with twelve-foot-high walls, where brilliantly colored tapestries hung on every surface.

  Melisande was immediately transfixed. This was why she was here. This was what she had waited for. She set her kit down and walked over to gaze at the nearest tapestry. Pictured in the woven threads was a group of knights with drawn swords, riding into battle on horseback. The work was striking, the colors bright with each figure woven in detail so fine you could almost feel the wind blowing through the horses’ tails and hear the crash of armor hitting armor.

 

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