Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel)

by Robin Bielman

  And then something inexplicable happened. Something she swore not to feel blossomed inside her heart—attachment.

  She watched him now, enthralled with the sweat that glistened on his forehead, the tense line of his jaw, the undeniable sexiness of his mouth. God, he was beautiful. And she was on the cusp of having a smoldering orgasm, sound effects and all.

  Moans of pleasure fell from her lips. Breathy moans—moans to let him know what he was doing brought her to the brink of climax. Her pants grew louder, came from deeper inside her.

  He opened his eyes just as hers were about to flutter shut.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Like she could refuse his commands. She looked, and his fathomless blue eyes swirled with gold, then jade, then amethyst. She tumbled into them, molten heat rushing through her before a blinding, pulsing release took hold and wave after wave of pleasure rocked her body. She called out his name and came so hard stars winked behind her eyelids. He continued to pump into her, drawing out her orgasm until holy shit… Intensity built, her muscles clamped around his cock again and she came a second time.

  Her ecstasy sent him into his own wildly explosive release. His magnificent body shuddered, and she felt his hot seed spill into her. It was the single greatest thing she’d ever experienced. He groaned in blissful agony before slumping against her.

  “That was, uh… I’ve never…” she said, her body still thrumming with delicious quivers. She’d never had multiple orgasms before. Never felt more connected or in sync with another person. Her heart pounded with extreme contentment.

  “Yeah,” he said, voice gravelly.

  For several minutes, they didn’t move. She kissed his neck, tasted the saltiness of his skin. Slowly, he pulled out of her, took her in his arms, and carried her to the couch.

  “You’re the sexiest, most desirable woman I’ve ever met, Tess.” He moved a stray hair from her face, slid a finger down her cleavage. “I love the way your parts fit together. How soft you are.”

  Those words, that single touch down her chest, made her want him all over again.

  She looked at him with big round eyes that made him wonder if any man had ever told her how special she was. How utterly unique and sexy and fuck-it-all worth dying for. Because the bone-deep possessiveness coursing through Hugh’s veins meant whether he liked it or not, Tess was his. And he protected what was his.

  The kiss he’d given her, the one claiming her, wasn’t anything he’d planned. But she’d responded with such incredible wild abandon that he’d been helpless to stop it. The intensity had proven more powerful than he’d anticipated.

  During the past week, he’d cracked her tough exterior, learned her quirks and looked forward to getting up in the morning just to see what new thing he’d discover about her. He’d tried to fight the feelings of admiration and attachment spreading inside him like a burning blaze and filling the spaces he’d sworn to keep vacant. But he couldn’t.

  It didn’t matter that there was no happy ending in their future. What mattered to him was her future. Now that Trey was back, he would gladly give up his life for hers. Until then, he planned to enjoy her body to the fullest.

  “Want to do this again?” she said, with a smile worthy of a Miss Congeniality award. As if she needed to convince him.

  “Definitely.” He circled her nipple with his finger.

  She pulled his hand away, laced her fingers with his. “Is it still raining?”

  He looked toward the window. All she would see was black nothingness, the tinted window offering a muted peek in daylight, let alone night. “Still raining.”

  “Darn.”

  “Shame,” he added, turning his head to take in her beauty.

  “You know you stare a lot?” she said, not at all displaying any modesty.

  “I can’t help it. I can’t take my eyes off you.” He brought their locked hands down to her tattoo, extending his finger to touch it. “Tell me about this.”

  She looked down and he sensed the artwork had special meaning because she lingered there for a long moment, as if remembering.

  Instead of answering, she reached her other hand to touch his chest. “Tell me what yours means first.”

  Fuck. The last thing he’d wanted to talk about was his brother, but he’d walked right into that. Idiot.

  Keeping things from her was futile. Thinking this camaraderie between them would wane was useless. He felt her under his skin, smelled her in his sleep, tasted her when his mouth was dry. He didn’t want to need her. But the way she stared at his chest, the way her kiss ignited a passion in him he hadn’t known he possessed, wiped away his confusion. She planned to kill him. He’d love her until they found Dobson. Until she needed to follow through with her assignment. Because her life was more important than his.

  Love her?

  “So are you going to tell me or not?” Her satiated voice shook him from his thoughts.

  “It’s the Zodiac sign for Cancer. In honor of Max.” Would she settle for the short answer?

  Her hand tickled his flesh, her fingers delicately gliding over his heart. “You put it in a special place. Your brother must have meant a lot to you. You said he died from depression after losing his mate. How is that possible?”

  Her voice dripped with concern, compassion. He’d never told a soul the depth of Max’s despair. The pack believed poison had taken his life, not heartache. Hugh thought it better to honor him that way.

  “He actually died from a broken heart.”

  She continued to comfort him with small, gentle traces from her fingers. The feel of her fingertips over his heart, over the one thing he had left of Max, prompted him to continue when she remained silent.

  “Did you know the death of a loved one can kill you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “It’s called Broken Heart Syndrome. It produces a toxic overload of stress hormones that result in stress cardiomyopathy. My brother experienced the same symptoms as a heart attack. Shortness of breath, chest pain, fluid in his lungs. These all severely weakened his heart. He ignored the shifter half of his being and let the pain of losing Heather destroy his human half. He didn’t want to fight it. Wasn’t resilient enough. His grief stressed his heart to the point of melancholy and depression, and he chose to give up. He couldn’t bear to live without her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  She dropped a kiss over the tattoo. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I know you’re hurt that he left you.” She turned her head and laid her ear on his chest. “Your heart tells me so.”

  He did not want to talk about his heart. Or how speaking of Max had conjured up ideas that Tess was his mate. The intimacy between them at this moment choked him. Once again, he’d shared something with her he’d never shared with another soul.

  Silence filled the space around them until she said, “What sign are you?”

  It amazed him how she seemed to know just how far to push him on certain subjects. He was grateful he didn’t have to elaborate on the heartache his brother’s passing had caused. By having the tattoo over his heart, he’d hoped to protect himself from further pain there. The mere sight of Tess ruined that plan.

  “Taurus. How about you?”

  “I’ll give you three guesses.” She lifted her head so it rested on the couch.

  His body and mind relaxed at her game playing, but her nakedness distracted him enough that he couldn’t think of a damn Zodiac sign besides his and his brother’s. “How about we make it multiple choice?”

  “Fine. Aries, Scorpio, Aquarius or Pisces. Take your pick.”

  He traced a finger along her arm. Her tanned skin was silky smooth, flawless. Toned. There wasn’t an unseemly mark on her. There wasn’t a tan line on her either. Her golden skin offered beauty unmatched. It pushed his sexual drive into fourth gear.

  “Sagittarius. Now tell me why you don’t have any tan lines.”

  “Hugh! That wasn’t a
choice.”

  “Sorry.” Wow, he’d thought of a sign. “Your body is distracting me. And to be honest, I don’t really care. The tan lines—that I care about.”

  She scooted up, bent her legs and brought them to a sideways angle atop the couch. Now he had a glimpse of her fine ass. This tactic of hers, naked on the couch in a provocative pose, might kill him without too much hard work on her part.

  “I don’t have any tan lines because I sunbathe in the nude.”

  I’m a goner. One rung on the death sentence down, not many more he could take. His expression must have tipped her off to his utterly confusing enchantment with her because she continued. A good thing since he needed to pry his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

  “In my backyard. Alone. Although occasionally Kensie or Francesca might join me. I love the sun, love to be outdoors.”

  He’d love to see her in the sun, outdoors, sunbathing. “Now tell me about your tattoo.” He couldn’t see it with the way she sat, but remembered it distinctly. It was a Kanji tattoo but he didn’t know what it meant.

  “It’s the symbol of strength in Kanji.” The after-sex glow left her flushed cheeks, and Hugh sensed like him, the tattoo was a sore subject.

  Still, he needed to know more. “Why did you pick that?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  If she thought he’d let her off the hook after what he’d just confessed, she was wrong. He knew about her family, but he didn’t know about her past loves. Past boyfriends. And his intuition told him the tattoo had to do with that. Did her past really matter in the scheme of things? In the short time they had together? No. But he was curious. And obviously a lovesick fool who needed details.

  Lovesick?

  “I think we’ve got a while until the rain lets up,” he said.

  “Good.” She pushed up on her knees and straddled him. “Ready for round two?”

  Okay, he’d have to pry it out of her later because, in case she hadn’t noticed, his cock was ready. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hugh woke with a start. The rain had stopped.

  He checked his watch by carefully lifting his arm. Three A.M. He’d been asleep for about an hour. As he lowered his arm back over Tess’s sleeping form, he breathed in the scent of her citrus shampoo, enjoyed the feel of her backside snug against his front.

  His office was warm, quiet. A dim light from an overused lamp on his desk finally flickered goodnight. The Persian rug he and Tess were sprawled on was thick and soft, and with the late hour he decided to let her continue sleeping. They could leave for San Diego in the morning.

  Before they’d fallen asleep, he’d gotten to know every intimate part of her body. He’d navigated every slope and curve with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Nothing tasted sweeter than her skin. Sugar-coated, yet salty sensations had slid to the back of his throat with each lick. He’d had to remind himself to rein in his brawn before lust got the better of him and he bit.

  Nothing stirred greater passion in him than her response to his touch. Her body shook, trembled, burned. Her hands had repeatedly brought him closer so not a sliver of space existed between them, no matter their position. Her arousal had singed his nose. The beat of her heart drummed an intoxicating rhythm that slayed him. He took her to climax over and over again with ease and confidence. Her bones softened underneath him.

  As they’d lain in each other’s arms, sleep beckoning, he’d learned about Jason. She didn’t articulate so much as reveal through her body language the depth of their relationship. Her heart rate had picked up, her pulse had pounded in his ears, and something had flickered in her eyes. Regret? Denial? He didn’t know for sure. All he knew was that Jason’s death meant more than just a loss, but he couldn’t figure out what.

  She stirred, reminding him he was with her now. She reached for his arm and tugged it against her chest, nestling against him even more. If he died right now, he’d die a lucky man, a happy man, and that thought carried him back to sleep.

  When he woke with a start for the second time, it had nothing to do with the weather.

  And everything to do with the lack of body warmth pressed against him.

  Tess was gone.

  Rays of early morning sunshine penetrated the tinted window. He jumped to his feet and looked around for any sign of her. His clothes sat in a neat pile on the office chair—not where he’d left them—and a sniff told him coffee, strong and caffeinated, percolated in the tiny office kitchen. Maybe she’d decided to play happy morning after, doing domestic by folding clothes and making coffee.

  Yeah, right. When hell froze over.

  He caught the time and almost choked on his own tongue. Eight o’clock. Holy shit. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept until eight. That meant it wasn’t Tess outside his office door, but Gavin. Or maybe Tess and Gavin. Great.

  He dressed quickly and headed out of his office. If he found the twosome bonding over a cup of coffee he wouldn’t complain. He’d rather that than discover she’d actually left without a word.

  The door to Gavin’s office stood open and the inside empty. Passing the conference room, he poked his head inside and found it also bare. That left the reception area. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Gavin sat comfortably on the couch reading the newspaper.

  No Tess.

  His heart fell into his gut with the weight of a bowling ball, leaving a gaping hole where the damn thing used to beat. His mind whirled with reasons why—and why not—this made sense. If he could kick his own ass he would. He hated that he’d slept through her fucking escape. How had she gotten away without him knowing it?

  She’s an eliminator, that’s how.

  “Morning,” Gavin said, sounding so goddamn cheerful Hugh wanted to punch him.

  “Yeah.” He took quick inventory of the area. No purse, no scent, no carbon footprint, no couch pillow out of place. She’d successfully eliminated any trace she’d been there at all, and from the looks of things, had been gone for some time.

  For Tess, a head start like that was equivalent to ten shots under par. It would be close to impossible to catch up. If he even knew where to begin.

  “Rough night?”

  “No.” He moved to the kitchenette to pour himself some coffee.

  “I didn’t see any log to say you’d made it to San Diego last night. You guys leaving this morning?” Gavin folded the paper and put it to the side.

  “Doesn’t look like it.” He took the chair next to the couch, careful to avoid Gavin’s curious eye.

  Was this it? Was last night the last he’d see of her? A sharp pain lanced the side of his head. He knew, knew with every animal instinct he possessed, that what had happened between them last night and the days leading up to it were out of the realm of ordinary. A connection that defied the odds existed between them.

  Her reasons for leaving could be many. She might be heading to San Diego on her own to locate Dobson. She had, after all, fulfilled her end of the bargain and helped him find Trey. He knew she’d gotten enough information, enough help from him, to take her in the direction she needed to go. And now she wanted to do it on her own.

  Or did she go back to P.I.E. to report on her progress and plan her strategy for eliminating him?

  Or…

  He took another deep breath.

  Or maybe she’d run away because she was scared. Afraid of her feelings for him. Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to do what the job required.

  From their conversations concerning her work, he gathered her boss, Christian, was a real SOB. From what he’d heard about P.I.E. before he’d ever met Tess, he knew the organization ran with precision and no room for mistakes. She’d said Christian had told her this was her last chance. Would he really kill her if she failed?

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Gavin’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t shake thoughts of Tess to comprehend the words. If it came down to her killing him, which he suspected
it would, he’d not flinch at letting her succeed.

  But what if he could save her? What if he could take her out of P.I.E. and give her a new life? He’d fought the idea of mating with everything he had, but as sure as the moon rose, he wanted to spend every day with her.

  Every. Day.

  Until his last one.

  A swift kick to his knee brought him out of his revelry.

  “Yo, dude. Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

  “No. And don’t fucking kick me again.”

  Gavin scooted back on the couch. “Aren’t we the happy camper? I mean you’re usually unpleasant in the morning but today you’re not pulling out any stops. I guess things didn’t end the way you wanted them to with Tess.”

  The way “Tess” rolled off Gavin’s tongue—like he knew her and liked her—riled him. He knew it was irrational. Gavin was a smooth talker. A natural people person. That was why he handled most of the charter services. And that was why he ground his teeth together and reined in his anger. It wasn’t Gavin’s fault Tess had left without a goodbye.

  “You could say that.” He took a gulp of coffee.

  Gavin picked up another section of newspaper. “Go get her then.”

  “What?” Hugh put his cup down. It tasted like shit this morning.

  “I said go get her. It’s obvious she means a lot to you.”

  “How the hell would you know that?”

  “Because you’re barking like a dog, look like you got maybe four hours sleep, and in the five years I’ve known you, I don’t think you’ve been on more than three dates. This girl, from the way you were looking at her last night, you want to have more than dates with.”

  The distance he always kept with Gavin shrank. His body relaxed some. The muscles clenched with agitation mellowed. His partner had pegged him to a T. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Gavin knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. “Maybe you’re right.”

  He should fly to San Diego and help Tess, no matter her thoughts on the topic. If Dobson was a wolfen and involved with the Wolf Seekers, it was important he get to the bottom of things.