Grigori tucked Melisande into his side as the men surrounded her. The walk to the car went quickly, with Brencis and Valerii bringing the luggage and Officer Kincaid ushering her into the back of the car. Grigori followed her into the back seat on one side while Brencis got in the other. Valerii got in front with Officer Kincaid, and they were off. The windows were darkened, but Melisande still saw the traffic around Big Ben as they crossed the Thames and headed out of London.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Just taking a longer route, in case someone is following us. Hopefully we'll lose him, or if he thinks we're leaving London, he'll turn back to report,” Officer Kincaid said.
"Enjoy the ride, Melika. Maybe you can catch some of those sights you wanted to see,” Grigori said.
§
A black sedan sat parked on the side street across from the London Hilton Hotel. Two men sat in the front seat.
“Fools! Arrogant fools. Look, Golubev, how they protect the woman? They even checked her room for transmitters. But, they didn’t think to check her luggage. It was so simple to slip a small transmitter into her bag. Now, wherever they try to hide, I will find them. Follow their car, but not too closely. We don’t want to be spotted.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Golubev said as he turned the black sedan into the afternoon traffic.
Funenko rubbed his hands together. The plan was being organized. Stealing Solovyov’s woman would have been difficult from a hotel full of people, even with the help of Golubev and the other men. But now they would see where the police decided to hide the couple away. “Oh, yes. This was much better.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melisande wrinkled her nose as she swallowed her first taste of warm British beer. Grigori chuckled as he watched her, while Brencis and Valerii laughed out loud.
“You need to take a healthy swallow, lass. Sipping it doesn’t count,” Officer Kincaid said.
“It’s a lot stronger than American beer,” Melisande pointed out.
“That it is. Now drink up, lass.”
Melisande dutifully took another swallow. The taste was strong, but it grew on her. Of course, she hardly ever drank alcohol at home. But trying British beer in a real pub was something she had always wanted to do.
She looked around at the interior of the pub and smiled. There weren’t very many patrons at two in the afternoon. But the place exuded the Old World ambiance she loved. Shiny dark woodwork contrasted with old plaster walls. An old stone fireplace sat on one wall with a picture of a sea captain hanging over the mantel. Paintings of sailing ships were scattered around the room. She especially liked the huge model of a galley ship hanging behind the bar. The name “Sea Dog” fit the atmosphere of the pub perfectly.
Once, Officer Kincaid heard she wanted to do some sightseeing, he had turned into the world’s best tour guide. He assured Grigori and his companions that Inspector Lewis had told him to see to their comfort. They drove by the Tower of London, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the London Eye and so many churches and bridges Melisande couldn’t keep up with them all. What should have taken an hour or so had turned into a half-day excursion, all for Melisande’s benefit. This was the last stop before they headed for the townhome Grigori rented.
Melisande felt good. Wasn’t she lucky to be surrounded by such handsome caring men? Suddenly, her head felt a little funny. Grigori leaned across the table and placed his hand over hers as she started to lift the pint mug, which was almost empty.
“I think we should go to the house now, Melika. The lady who is interested in being our cook is supposed to arrive at three.”
“Rosie MacDonald is a good woman. She adopted five wayward orphans. Everyone at the station knows she has a heart of gold,” Kincaid said.
“But can she cook?” asked Brencis.
“That she can. She prepares a stew that makes your mouth water,” Kincaid explained. “I hope you can work something out with her. Her last employer died suddenly and left her in a lurch. She could really use the money. Raising five boys by herself is a hard job.”
“We will certainly be happy to have her. But the job is temporary,” Grigori pointed out.
“Well, it’ll give her more time to find something permanent,” Kincaid said.
Grigori glanced at Melisande in concern. She wasn’t used to drinking alcohol, and he feared the beer was having a strong effect on her. She stared dreamily around the pub, smiling and waving at the barkeeper. Grigori caught Valerii’s attention and motioned him to push the glass out of her reach.
“Melisande, we need to go, detka.”
“Already, but I haven’t finished my beer. Hey, Valerii, I didn’t say I would share.”
“Sure you did. Don’t you remember?” Valerii asked, taking a swig of the liquid.
Grigori glared at Valerii, who tried not to laugh. Alcohol had no effect on lycanthropes.
“I did?” Melisande asked in confusion.
“All right, let us go,” Grigori said as he stood up, pulling Melisande up with him. “Officer Kincaid, if you will get the car. Brencis, please pay our bill.”
“Did I, Grigori? Because I can’t remember saying I’d share. I don’t mind, really, sharing I mean. But I hate not remembering.”
Grigori pulled Melisande closer into his side. His arm around her waist supported her when she swayed slightly. “I don’t believe you did, milen’kij. Valerii is teasing you.”
“Oh well, shame on him. He thinks he’s such a charmer. But he’s not as charming as you are, Grigori.”
Grigori looked up at Valerii and smirked. His mate might be feeling the effects of alcohol, but she hadn’t lost her good taste. “I’m glad you feel that way, Melika. Come, the car is waiting out front.”
Brencis walked up, and the three men surrounded Melisande, as they escorted her to the car. Today was about giving Melisande a day of fun, but none of the men forgot the danger still looming.
By the time they pulled into the gated drive of the townhouse, Melisande had recovered from her British beer experience. She had had such an enjoyable afternoon that she had forgotten someone was trying to kill her. It wasn’t until the men ushered her to the car, protecting her from taking a bullet, that she was reminded of the danger. It was a sobering thought, quite literally.
A six-foot brick fence with a large wrought-iron gate across the driveway surrounded the townhome. A small garden ran along the side of the building. The only tree was next to the house, a towering oak, offering shade to the drive. Melisande saw a boxwood hedge near the back of the house and wondered what the backyard was like.
The men ushered her into the building, all of them looking around in curiosity. Inside the house a grand staircase went up one side of the entryway hall. There were wooden moldings and marble floors. Melisande peeked into the first room off the hall and found a quaint sitting room with a huge fireplace and mantel. A painting of a man with a large lace collar over a golden doublet and lace cuffs, from the time of the Tudors, sat over the mantel looking at them.
“Wow, this house is amazing.” Melisande walked into the room and looked up at the painting. “I wonder who he was.” She could try and read the painting after things settled down.
“I’ll go call in and let Lewis know we’ve arrived,” Kincaid said.
“I found the kitchen.” Valerii called from farther back in the house.
“There are supposed to be four bedrooms upstairs. Why don’t you go up and select which one you want, while we get the luggage unloaded,” Grigori suggested from the door.
“All right, the house is very beautiful,” Melisande said as she walked over to Grigori. “I wonder if they have canopy beds. My grandfather owned a huge, old-fashioned, carved canopy bed. I used to bounce on it when I was little.” She looked up the stairs, thinking about what treasures awaited.
“Go on, lyubov moya. Go see if we sleep in a canopy bed.”
Melisande smiled and hurried upstairs. She couldn’t wait to see the bedrooms.
Grigori watched in tender amusement as Melisande quickly ascended the stairs. He loved the childlike joy she took in life. Today, she had delighted in each new sight, never tiring of the traffic or crowds, always open for the next adventure awaiting her. She was becoming his very life. Her happiness was his.
“Stop mooning over your mate and help me get the bags,” Brencis grumbled as he walked past.
Grigori felt surprised to admit, he was mooning over his mate. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He enjoyed every breath she took. Mooning, indeed. Shaking his head, he followed Brencis out to the car.
Rosie MacDonald arrived at the gate promptly at three as promised. The grocery truck followed her up the driveway. Brencis and Valerii took care of the food, while Kincaid showed her into the house.
Grigori was happy to see she appeared to be a cheerful, confident woman. Though older than Grigori, he thought she might be in her late thirties. Rosie was a little shorter and rounder than Melisande. But her face was pleasant and her eyes kind, she appeared very motherly. She wore her hair up in a bun. She had on a white blouse and red skirt, as well as serviceable shoes.
Rosie and Melisande took an instant liking to each other and ended up in the kitchen, talking about recipes and looking at the food that was delivered. But what Grigori didn’t expect was the hint of young lycanthrope odor clinging to Rosie’s clothes. Rosie had been in contact with one of his kind, a pup, quite recently. Grigori followed the women into the kitchen and worked his way closer to the cook. She took off her sweater and tied an apron around her waist.
“Would it be all right, if I fed my children from the left overs, Mr. Solovyov? Five children eat quite a lot. If you don’t want them hanging around at dinnertime, I can send a pot home with my oldest, Seth.”
“That’s fine, Miss MacDonald . . .” Grigori smelled scents of more than one lycanthrope pup coming from the apron. How did she come in contact with these young ones? He would find out. The pack needed children desperately. If they were here in London, they would need to be returned to the pack. It was curious that he didn’t smell any adult lycanthropes on her. Where were the children’s parents?
“Rosie, please. No sense being so formal, I’m the cook after all,” she broke in.
“Please call me, Grigori. I hope we can all benefit from you being here. Have the children come to the house anytime. I look forward to meeting them.”
“I’m sure they will be happy to meet you as well, Mr. Grigori. I’m sure they could learn a lot from you.”
“Officer Kincaid told us you adopted your children,” Melisande said, looking up from the cookbook she had pulled off one of the shelves.
“Yes, I found them, or they found me. There’s Seth the oldest, then the twins, Donny and Adam, next comes Jeremy, and then there’s little Joe. We have chosen to become a family. Our own little pack.”
Startled, Grigori looked up. Did Rosie mean her children were the lycan pups? Did she know about his kind? She seemed to be hinting that she knew what he was. How was this possible?
“That sounds wonderful, Rosie. I always wanted to have children, maybe someday . . .” Melisande blushed as she glanced up at Grigori.
“I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful mother, Miss Meli. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get to cooking. Why don’t you let me get to it?”
“Of course, Rosie. If you have any questions, or need anything, please let us know,” Grigori said as he ushered Melisande from the kitchen.
Brencis? Where are you? Grigori sent using his telepathic abilities.
Walking the perimeter. There is a back gate out here. It leads to an alley. Someone could climb it easily. We must keep alert.
I need you to meet the new cook, Rosie. Tell me what scents you pick up.
What am I looking for?
You’ll know when you find it. I’m taking Melika upstairs for a nap.
Do you plan to sleep or something else?
Mind your manners. You are way too bold.
Sorry, Grika. I guess I’m a little jealous.
That I found a mate?
No. That I must share you.
You will always be my Beta. The one I depend on to have my back. I love you, Brenka. There is no need to be jealous. Be happy for me. I had given up on finding my mate. Melisande brings me much joy.
I am happy for you. Go, enjoy your mate.
“Where were you just now? You seemed far away,” Melisande said, looking up at Grigori.
“Just thinking. Can I entice you with a nap? Followed by a soak in the bath?”
“Are we going to sleep?”
“Only if you want to, lyubov moya.”
“All right, race you upstairs,” Melisande said as she sprinted up the staircase. Grigori smiled and let her get more than halfway up before he followed her. He was only one step behind her as she reached the top. He could have passed her, but the view distracted him. Reaching over he grabbed her behind. She yelped and ran for the bedroom door.
“Man, you’re quick.”
“We can go slowly, if you want to, mate.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Grigori crowded her, moving her closer to the canopy bed. He closed the door as they passed and then reached up to unfasten his shirt. He shrugged it off and slipped off his shoes. He smiled with satisfaction when Melisande gasped and drank in the sight of him. It was a heady pleasure to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
She removed her blouse and unbuttoned her pants. She was so beautiful, so perfect. His pants were off, and he stood naked before her, as she finished removing her clothes. He reached for her face to kiss her, and she reached for his erection, surrounding him. He groaned into her mouth as she caressed him.
“So good, Melika. Everything about you,” Grigori said as his lips caressed her cheek, her ear, and nibbled lower to her neck.
He reached down to fondle her breast, tweaking the nipple until it was hard for him. Melisande gasped and leaned forward to take his nipple into her mouth. She bit down, nipping him. The little pain excited him, excited his wolf. As he had learned every place that aroused her, she was learning his.
She kissed his chest and then the top of his stomach. Grigori growled and pushed gently against her shoulders, encouraging her to go lower. She nipped him playfully, insisting on controlling their lovemaking. He groaned in approval, giving himself up to her ministrations.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him, as she continued to fondle him. Her eyes glittered with desire and tenderness. She was the most beautiful woman, his mate. His shaft grew larger, harder with wanting her. Only with her, did he allow himself to hope for something more than duty to his pack.
She smiled and licked her lips, seeing his reaction. He jerked in her hand, a deep sense of need engulfing him.
“Do it Melika, take me into your luscious mouth.”
Melisande smirked in obvious anticipation. She leaned forward and licked the drop of pre-cum from his shaft. Grigori shuddered and widened his stance. She caressed his balls as she kissed up and down his length, nibbling and licking. She tormented him with her teasing. He ran his fingers through her silky hair. He wished to force the issue, but feared scaring her. He wanted to give her the control, not demand her response.
Finally, she took him into her hot mouth. Grigori groaned in appreciation as she licked and sucked. He began to move, a small amount, back and forth. It felt so good, he reveled in it. Just knowing she wanted to please him in this way warmed his heart.
She clamped down harder around him, refusing to allow him to escape her mouth completely. Her hands circled his hips and she began to massage his buttocks. Gripping him tighter, she pulled him deeper into her heat. He watched in fascination, her cherry lips surrounding his shaft, the obvious pleasure on her face in the erotic act.
Grigori reached for her through the mating bond. Feeding his feelings to her, the tightness of her mouth, the exquisite heat and wetness, the need he felt
for her. His adoration and pleasure in her being. Their minds merged and he felt her emotions. Her need to please him, to give to him. Her love surrounded him, infusing every cell. He opened the flood gates to his feelings and poured his love into the mix. They were one. One lightning storm of love and pleasure.
He tightened further; his balls began to draw up. He tried to pull away from her, but she refused to release him.
Melika, I am going to come, he warned her using his telepathy.
Come, I want you to.
Grigori wondered if she realized she talked to him with her mind. They had shared emotions before, but now the mating bond allowed them this new intimacy.
But, then she engulfed his shaft, pulling him even deeper down her throat. His hands tightened in her hair, and he thrust into her mouth. He tilted her head so she took him deeper.and she hummed in appreciation. He growled as the vibrations ran along his length. It was all too much. He shouted her name, as he came into her mouth.
She continued to suck, swallowing all of him down, wringing him dry. He shuddered, suddenly weak, his body now pliant in fulfillment.
Melisande released him and looked up in triumph. He felt her ultimate satisfaction coming through the mating bond. As he caressed her cheek, he marveled at the strength of his love for her. She smiled in victory, glorying in her feminine power. He smiled back, appreciating her fire. This woman owned him, heart and soul.
Grigori leaned down to kiss her, capturing her lips and their shared essence. Melisande wrapped her arms around his neck and dueled with her tongue. He draped an arm around her waist and dragged her fully onto the bed, as he followed her down. She laughed as he settled his weight on her, claiming what was his.
“I think you enjoyed that, almost as much as I did,” she teased, her voice husky with desire.
“Now it is my turn,” he said, kissing her neck, then taking her nipple into his mouth.
She arched into him, murmuring her encouragement. Melisande was going to scream, in pleasure, when she came for him. A promise he made to both of them.
AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012 Page 7