by Anne Marsh
He could find her. He might not have visited the Breaux compound before—the whole Alpha thing again—but he could find them. His brothers were excellent trackers and he was better than all of them. If Gianna was in there, he’d find her. A quick nighttime B&E on the inn and he had her pillowcase. Asking might have been better behavior for the town’s sheriff and Alpha, but explaining was the last thing he wanted to do. He ran a thumb over the pillowcase tucked inside his jacket pocket. It was nothing kinky, although honestly he’d probably trade a kidney for a pair of her panties. He’d caught teasing glimpses of a lacy bra beneath her pink dress at the wedding, the pale shadow of a strap over her shoulder and the delicate hollow of her collarbone. That had been his fantasy fodder right there and he knew just how pathetic that was.
But what the hell could he do? As far as the werewolves went, Luc was well within his rights to carry her off. His damned blue moon had lit her up as his mate and, moon or no moon, he clearly felt the pull. Cruz wouldn’t have put much stock in lunar phenomena, but Gianna herself had agreed to go. Whatever chemistry she felt, whatever had happened between that pair before, she wanted to explore it.
She’d said yes.
To Luc.
Which left him staring at the bayou like a hound dog, if he was being honest with himself. Giving up wasn’t in his vocabulary. Of course, neither was patience. Gianna had offered him a week of his own. Yeah. He hugged that thought to himself, knowing he was grinning like he’d just won a cool twenty million in the state lottery. Luc might be first, but Cruz planned on being last.
He could check up on her. He had updates on The Breed and had managed to get a man into the pack. He bet she’d want that information sooner rather than later. Never mind that he could pick up a phone or mail a fucking postcard. Bringing her the news himself could also work. A quick hello that would also remind her he existed.
Boots crunched toward him. Eli. Eli might be the youngest brother, but he was no pushover. Although Jace was Cruz’s second, Eli was every bit as tough although he came in a pretty package. He liked the females, his brother did, and they liked him right back. Even their sister Riley had a soft spot for Eli and a disgusting inability to say no to him. Maybe it was the honey-colored hair tangled around his shoulders or the brown eyes that liked to laugh. Eli was a fucking pretty male, but with an inner steel people often overlooked. He liked his playtime, but he was every bit as much a fighter as Cruz. He could turn the fun off in a heartbeat.
Which probably meant this wasn’t a social call. Eli stared at the bayou for a moment. “I’m not seein’ it. Whatever’s got you goin’, color me clueless.”
Yeah, because the object of his fixation was a good twenty, thirty miles away doing things Cruz had no desire to see. In no scenario could he imagine Luc keeping his hands off Gianna’s sweet body. Hell. He’d only been hands-off himself because they’d barely met and he’d wanted to respect her professional boundaries. Gianna’s job mattered to her and she was damned good at it. Kissing her in front of their colleagues would have disrespected all that.
Out here in the bayou, though, away from Baton Rouge and her law firm…yeah. He’d played that one. He should have made his move.
“Earth to Cruz,” his brother said wryly. “Who is she?”
He loved his family. He’d take a bullet, trade his life for theirs any day of the week. What he didn’t like, however, was the uncanny way they could read his fucking moods.
His brother dug an elbow into his side. “Give it up. The last female I spotted you with was that expensive lawyer from Baton Rouge. Riley really liked the candlesticks she gave Riley for the wedding. Said they were French. You have any idea what that means?”
Nope. He was a clueless bastard, and not just about candlesticks.
He cleared his throat. “Probably female for expensive or really, really fucking fragile.”
“Should have thought of that yourself,” his brother suggested, laughing. Cruz knew Eli had picked out a gift himself. He’d heard Riley exclaiming over the dinner dishes made by a local potter. Eli had put plenty of thought into the gift, even if he pretended otherwise.
“So who did you meet at the wedding that has you in knots? I didn’t think there were any unattached females there.”
And…there was the problem. He waited patiently while his brother barreled towards the correct conclusion and shut the fuck up. Briefly.
“Tell me you’re not jonesing for Gianna.”
“Too late.”
“You are aware, right, that Luc Breaux has claimed her as his mate? He says she’s his blue moon bride.”
“I know,” he said tightly.
“And you didn’t back the hell off? Does she know how you feel? Does Luc? Jesus. That’s the kind of thing that causes pack wars.”
“Only if I act on it,” he pointed out.
Eli shot him a look. “You’re starin’ out into that bayou like it swallowed up something pretty damn special. You just admirin’ the scenery?”
“She promised Luc a week.”
His brother groaned. “I’m hearin’ a but. Tell me you said okay and walked away.”
“Not a but. An and. And she promised me a week.”
“You’re spending a week with another Alpha’s mate?” Eli shook his head.
“You’ve got a death wish. Worse, Luc Breaux might come gunnin’ for us. Riley may have married into his pack, but I don’ think he’s goin’ to cut you any slack for that.”
Those words had Cruz getting into his brother’s face, the urge for a fistfight paramount. Or he could go for wrestling. The kind of shit they used to do when they were pups, but that he’d stopped doing when he’d become the family’s leader. Not okay for his brothers to whale back on him, so he wouldn’t put them in the position. Now he was rethinking.
“I don’ wan’ any favors from him and Gianna isn’t a pass-around.”
“She’s his mate.”
“So he says.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? The million dollar question. Luc might have claimed Gianna—but had she claimed him? If she had, it was game over. Cruz wouldn’t stand between mates. He’d bow out, wish them well, and somehow figure out a way to fix his heart. If she was still unsure, however…if he had a shot…he’d take it.
Eli got right to the heart of the matter. “You think she’s yours?”
“Dad always said that when you see the one, you know.”
“There are books about love at first sight. They have racks and racks of the stuff at Wal-Mart. Just because someone says it, doesn’t mean it’s true. None of us have bitten in the heart department, let alone after five minutes of looking. It’ll take more for me.”
Tension filled the air between them. His little brother wasn’t one for settling down—or putting the pack at risk.
“This is between Luc, Gianna and me,” he said finally. “It’s not pack business.”
“You are the pack. You’re our Alpha.”
It was true—and the only reason he hadn’t fought Luc for Gianna at the wedding. Okay, that and the fact that Gianna would have kicked both their asses. She stood on her own two feet and he wouldn’t disrespect her strength.
“Think it over,” Eli said quietly. “And be really sure, okay? If she’s the one for you, I got your back. You know that. But if you’ve got any doubts, shelve it for a while. Wait and see how things work out for her and Luc before you go rocking the marital boat. She’s a pretty woman. Smart. Maybe it’s nothing more than that and you don’ have to go gettin’ tangled up with her.”
“I’ve got some time off,” he said finally. “I’ve got gas in my boat and the truck.”
“Shit. You’re really goin’ after her.”
“I have to.”
And wasn’t that the truth? He’d likely get out there and discover her and Luc going at it like bunnies, and not the fluffy kind either. And he meant what he’d said.
Her life. Her heart. Her choice.
He just needed to be in th
e running.
***
Gianna padded out onto the porch. The last three days and nights had passed in a sensual blur. She worked the kinks out of her body, feeling the delicious sore spots deep inside and the whisker burn on her skin. Luc had marked her inside and out. Part of her couldn’t wait to turn around and head back inside for round-whatever-they-were-on. Ten? Forty? The man was insatiable.
She really should keep right on walking, get into his boat, and gun the motor for Port Leon. Unfortunately, she’d apparently tossed prudence out the window along with her panties and her restraint. Luc’s brand of loving was intense, the kind that made her knees wobbly and standing difficult. Now that they’d come up for air, a small part of her worried that he’d consume her.
He’d called her his mate.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wasn’t averse to settling down, although she certainly hadn’t planned on doing it with a werewolf. Plus, being ready to pack in her celibacy and her single state were two of the reasons she’d gone searching for Luc. If he was offering what she wanted, why not take him up on it?
Right on cue, since they’d now been parted approximately five minutes, Luc followed her out onto the porch and handed her a cup of coffee. She told herself the coffee was the only reason she didn’t head for the dock. That, and her promise. Technically, she owed the man four more nights. She leaned back against him, wrapping her hands around the mug. Simple things had to count too.
He stiffened, pulling away from her. “Go back inside.”
Um. No. It was daylight, so she definitely wasn’t in the taking orders business. She picked up her mug and took a long sip. Funny how he made better coffee than she did. The rich notes of chicory exploded on her taste buds.
“Sun’s up,” she said briefly, more to needle him than anything. “Sorry, but you’re out of the order giving business for at least another eight hours.”
A wolf streaked past them from one of the houseboats, moving in a deadly blur. She still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the reality of shape-shifters. It was easier to accept out here in the bayou, where everything was already so different from her life in Baton Rouge, but how did she come to terms with the fact that her lover’s brothers turned furry and four-legged whenever they felt like it? Plus, the Breauxs apparently lived at DEFCON two.
The reason for the hostility stepped out of the low-hanging brush. An enormous brindle wolf took a step into the clear space and stopped. The animal was even larger than the ones that had attacked her earlier in the week. It had to be pushing two hundred pounds.
Luc cursed. “I’m goin’ to kill him.”
“You know him?” You sure about that? She wanted to ask. How did he tell one wolf from another?
“That’s Cruz,” Luc growled. The Breaux wolf placed itself between the intruder and the camp, growling. “He knows better than to come on out here without an invitation. I don’ piss all over his territory and he returns the favor.”
God, she did not want to know if Luc meant that literally or not.
“You can’t kill him,” she said instead, although she was pretty certain Luc could. Aggression radiated off him.
“Maybe, if you don’ wan’ me killin’ him, you should trade me that week of his. I’ll take it. He can live.” Savage satisfaction filled his voice.
“No can do.”
“Then I’ll keep your request in mind and see what I can do.” Luc vaulted over the porch, bare feet slamming into the bank at a run.
And…that was a conversation killer. She wasn’t dressed for giving chase. When she’d finally rolled out of bed—and Luc had let her go, laughing—she’d pulled on the first things she found in her suitcase. That left her standing on Luc’s porch sporting a fringed kimono, a tank top and cotton shorts. So she’d planned on a weekend at a B&B—and not a backwater bayou retreat.
“No killing,” she hollered, just in case Luc had reconsidered his stance on killing Cruz.
The wolf hadn’t moved from the edge of the clearing. Was he expecting an engraved invitation? Was there an Emily Post book for werewolf etiquette? Naturally, Luc ignored her demand and stalked towards the intruder.
“You better have a damned good reason for being here, Jones.”
Luc got right up in the wolf’s face, close enough that his thighs practically slammed into the wolf’s sides. The wolf bared its teeth, growling. Fuck, what was it with men and their testosterone? Out of options, she hurled her coffee mug at the pair. Stupid. She wasn’t done and Luc didn’t like being challenged. The mug fell short by yards, but the crash was satisfying.
“You got a point to make, shug?” Luc drawled, not turning around.
“Bring him here, you moron.” Clearly, there was no point in repeating her no killing manifesto.
Luc glared at the wolf. “You heard the lady. Shift,” he snapped.
And…Cruz shifted. If she’d been asked, she couldn’t have described how it happened. Just that the wolf’s fur seemed to melt and flow away, revealing bare skin. Lots and lots of very male, very naked skin. Sweet baby Jesus, but Cruz was a spectacular man. She’d tried hard not to imagine what he looked when he shucked his uniform, but now she knew. Six-plus feet of cut Cajun. It was a good day in the bayou.
Luc sighed, like somehow all that yummy nakedness was her fault. “Stop staring and get the man some pants.”
She debated reminding him that orders were off-limits until sunset, but Luc looked like he’d been pushed far enough for the morning. She went inside, grabbed a pair of jeans from Luc’s wardrobe, and stalked back out. She threw the pants at Cruz, who caught them one-handed. Don’t look below the neck.
Nope. So much for her good intentions. The gleam in the man’s eyes said he knew she’d cheated too. But, good Lord, the man was hung. How was she not to notice?
“Pants are my limit. I’m not bringing you coffee,” she announced, dropping back into her seat.
“You wan’ explain why you’re out here?” Luc sat down next to her, his thigh crowding hers, his arm curved possessively around her shoulders. If she’d been a tree, she was willing to bet both males would have engaged in a pissing contest.
Cruz ignored Luc entirely as he pulled on the borrowed jeans. “How are you, boo?”
“I’m fine.” Really? He’d come out and started World War Three just to ask her how she was feeling? What did he think she’d been doing?
“You wan’ to kiss her hello too?”
“Don’ mind if I do.” Cruz strolled over and dropped a kiss on her cheek. Then he leaned against her chair and proceeded to give them both an update on The Breed. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many new details. Gianna’s law firm had received a new death threat on her behalf. Cruz had gotten a man on the inside of the Baton Rouge pack, who was working to identifying the wolf who had called the hit on Gianna. But other than that…he had a whole lot of nothing.
Which begged the question of why he’d come out here.
Luc had apparently come to the same conclusion. “I’ve got a phone.”
“And I felt like seein’ how Gianna was doin’.”
Well, shit. That was blunt. Worse, an unexpected happiness beat through her veins. She liked being sandwiched between the two of them, having them both here on the porch with her. The only thing better…would have been if the three of them had just come out from the bedroom together.
“Fuck.” Luc looked between her and Cruz. “If you want him, take him.”
“You mean it?” God. She hoped her face wasn’t lighting up like a kid in a candy shop at the possibility of having both of them with her in bed.
“Your body. Your bed.” She couldn’t tell what Luc was thinking or how he really felt about sharing her body with Cruz. It was a fantasy, she told herself. Not necessarily anything more. If Luc was okay with it…
She looked up at Cruz. “Are you in?”
6
Gianna didn’t have to ask him twice. Cruz swung her up into his arms and carried he
r inside. By the time he set her down on the bed, he realized his mistake. He’d been so focused on convincing Gianna to take a chance on him, that he hadn’t considered the implications of hopping into bed with Luc Breaux. Christ. If fucking another Alpha’s mate was grounds for pack warfare, how about doing the male himself?
“This is about Gianna only,” he said gruffly. “Not you. Not me.”
Luc jerked his head in agreement. “No pack business in the bedroom.”
Cruz considered his next move. Whatever the Breauxs got up to out here in the bayou—and he did not want to know—he’d never done something like this before. Agreement or no agreement, he also wasn’t stage managing taking Gianna to bed. He’d touch her. Luc could touch. She’d react. That represented the sum total of his plans.
Gianna pushed up on one arm, the movement sending the fringed thing she wore sliding down her arm. A kind of wrap, he decided, like a robe but made out of a thin, blue gauze with bright pink flowers. Since he could see the skin of her arm through the translucent fabric, he liked it. Of course, he’d like it even better if she were naked and wearing only that. She stared at him, pink cheeked. Desire—or embarrassment? Christ, as much as he liked looking at her, touching would be even better.
“Guys first,” she said. “Strip.”
Luc shrugged and stripped down. He wasn’t wearing much to begin with—jeans and a T-shirt. Hell, Cruz himself had even less since his entire wardrobe at the moment consisted of a pair of borrowed pants. As buttons popped and pants hit the floor, he watched her, gauging her reaction. If she changed her mind, if they frightened her, he didn’t want to push when he should be pulling back. He was betting she hadn’t done this before either, which made him feel better. They could be ménage virgins together.
She certainly didn’t look scared or nervous. When he shucked his jeans, her eyes darkened, her lips parting. Hello, invitation. She was gorgeous and he had no idea what he’d done to deserve this invitation. He’d make it good for her. Meeting Luc’s eyes, he read the same determination there.