by E A Price
“Just stay away from me, okay?”
Holt winked at her and started moving and fearing he may try to kiss her – which would be fatal, Zara grabbed his muffin and shoved it into his mouth. There were a few titters around her as Holt choked and spluttered, and she allowed herself a few howls of laughter before bolting.
*
Present day
Douchebag – a muffin in the mouth was nothing compared to what he deserved. Zara stared at the picture of Holt and his brother, slightly uneasily.
Hey, it wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. His brother was arrested, and he chose to skip his court date. Now, she was just doing her job. If his brother really did kill two people, then she needed to find him. How Holt felt about the matter was secondary to that.
Honestly, she had no idea how close the two of them even were, but she doubted Holt would hate his brother. He wasn’t that type of guy. No, just the type of guy who uses a woman for sex and then dumps her she thought bitterly.
No time for that now.
No, now was the time to find his brother. Yes, she needed to be clever about this.
Chapter Three
“Oof!”
Holt let out a painful sound as she landed on his stomach. Okay, maybe breaking into his apartment and jumping on him was not the subtlest move, but it certainly got his attention.
“Where’s your brother?” she demanded as the huge body tried to maneuver beneath her.
He paused and switched on the light, illuminating his deliciously naked torso. Yep, just as hard and muscled as she remembered.
Holt stared at her agog for a few seconds, shock overruling any other emotions. “Zara?”
“Yep.” Couldn’t deny it. “Where’s your brother?”
“My what?”
“Your brother,” she replied impatiently. Jeez, it wasn’t a hard question. Admittedly, she may have taken him a little by surprise.
She could virtually see the cogs struggling to work as he slowly woke up. He shifted and tried to sit up slightly. His movement caused her to rock, and she placed her hands on his stomach to steady herself. She tried not to dwell on how silky smooth his skin was beneath her fingers.
He shifted his hips slightly, pressing something large and something that was quickly becoming hard against her ass. She could already testify as to how large it was. But she definitely did not come there for that. Nope, the thought that she might get another glimpse of him naked did not enter into her plans at all. Not. At. All.
“Honey, you don’t need my brother when I’m right here.”
Clearly, he was fully awake now.
Zara scowled at him. “Humph, nobody will pay me to catch you.”
Holt settled his hands on her hips, and she bit her lip to stifle the gasp.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, mildly baffled.
“You think I’m here because I want to be?” she groused.
He chuckled, and his eyes flicked down to her hands which had managed to move up to his pecs. “I’m getting that impression, yes.”
“Where is he?” she demanded a little flustered.
Don’t let him distract you, she told herself. Don’t let a few flirty smiles and rumbles throw you off your game. That leads down a very bad road.
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Sugartits?”
He twinkled with mischief, and Zara groaned. “Sweetheart is fine. Now, where is he?”
He sighed laboriously and started tapping his fingers on her thighs, sending indecent little shockwaves directly to her sex.
“I have no idea, sweetheart; it’s the middle of the night, have you checked his apartment?”
“Of course, he’s not there,” she huffed. Did he think this was her first day?
“Why are you so desperate to find him?” His relaxed expression hardened. “He’s already got a girlfriend if that’s what you’re after – a dancer at the club I think.”
Yeah, right. One Holt encounter under her belt was bad enough.
“He missed his court date, genius – why the hell else would I be here?”
“What?”
“Eek!”
Zara squealed as he flipped them. She landed on her back with Holt hovering above her, his weight pressing her into the bed. His masculine scent smothered all her senses as her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her heart started thumping enthusiastically. She could still feel his excitement, pressing against her thigh. He was going to kiss her; he was going to thrust inside her and take her over and over again just as he had six months ago, and darn it, she was going to let him.
She raised her lips searching for his, only to freeze mid-pucker. Holt had her pinned, but his molten gaze was not focused on her.
“He missed it?”
Irritation lanced through her - irritation that he wanted to stay on topic. “Yes, I…”
“Damnit!” he growled, pushing away from her body.
He prowled around the room pulling on clothes as his face darkened more and more.
Zara shoved aside her wilting arousal and tried to cling to a modicum of professionalism. “So if you know where he is…”
Holt stopped in the process of his prowling and stared at her in disbelief. “And you’re going to bring him in?”
“Why not?” she asked, heat rapidly rising to her cheeks. Did everyone think her so incapable?!
His maddening smirk returned. “No, no, why not, indeed.”
Zara grasped the clock off his bedside table and hurled it at him. The bastard batted it away like it was nothing.
“And he’s not at his apartment – did you check inside?”
She arched an eyebrow, not even dignifying that with an answer.
He grunted. “I already know how good you are at breaking and entering so I would guess yes.”
“Where is he?” she repeated, starting to feel like a damn parrot.
Holt sighed as he finished lacing up his boots. “Honestly, dumpling, I don’t know.”
“But you’re going to find him?”
“Damn straight.”
“I’m coming too.”
He winced. “Sorry, boo boo, I’d love to help you…”
Zara’s jaw dropped. “Pshaw – yeah, you’ve been real helpful over the past six months…”
*
Three months ago
Zara smiled as she saw a familiar face stomping in her direction. She wasn’t going to dwell on how Holt had found her. He always seemed to, particularly when she happened to be going on a date. Not that she was at that moment. She didn’t like dating anyway, and the fact that they kept running away from her was exceedingly off-putting.
She picked at her salad as Holt dropped into the chair opposite her and slapped something big and round onto the table.
“What’s that?” she asked sweetly.
His eyes narrowed. “You know what that is. It’s the steering wheel from my truck!” He shook his head.
Zara lifted her water to her mouth to hide the smile. It wasn’t like she had planned this. Nope, it had been pure chance that she happened to see his truck and decided it needed a little remodeling.
“Oh dear,” she said with mock sympathy. “Did it just fall off do you think?”
Holt’s face hardened for a moment before he blew out his breath and started chuckling. “You know what, honey bunny? I’m not even mad.”
Zara had to hide her dismay at that news.
“I mean, it’s cute how totally obsessed you are with me…”
“Blurg!” She almost choked on a lettuce leaf. Holt had to give her a firm pat on the back.
“I am not…” she started angrily.
“I mean, following me to the gym, turning up at restaurants where I’m having dinner and now this – it’s sweet really, but the timing just isn’t right for us. Soon, I hope that…”
“You hope nothing!” she snarled throwing a tomato at him. “I am not obsessed with you!”
He smiled indulgently. “Sure, kitten.”
Zara let out an impotent groan before slowly and with as much dignity as possible – which never seemed to be much around him – she stood up.
“If you leave me alone, I will leave you alone.”
He didn’t believe or agree with that for one second, and the smugness on his face said it all. With another angry groan, Zara picked up her bowl of salad and tipped it over his head before marching away.
*
Present day
Zara lay on his bed watching as Holt bent over to adjust one of his boots. The view was especially nice. So taut, so yummy, so… not for her. Don’t forget that – he’s a dick. A sexy dick, but a dick nonetheless.
“No need to make yourself pretty for me,” she teased.
Holt flashed her a grin.
“So, where are we going?”
“Sorry, cuddle-bum but you can’t come with me.”
He actually looked apologetic about that, but it wasn’t good enough. He was not leaving her behind. She had a job to do.
“I’m going to find your brother and haul him back to the cops…”
Holt fixed her with a hard look of warning. “You should stay away from my brother, he’s dangerous.”
Zara sniffed. “I can handle myself.”
His eyes grew stormy. “I’m serious, Zara. He wouldn’t have a problem hurting you.”
“Runs in the family,” she muttered before she could stop herself.
Holt’s expression turned sad, and in a flash he was over her, his body covering hers. She let out an eep as he nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply and moaning throatily.
Well… this wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Zara was too surprised to stop him. They had spent the night together – what now felt like a million years ago, but it had never seemed quite this intimate. Bone-shakingly good, but he hadn’t been this tender.
“I never want to hurt you,” he mumbled against her throat, his deep voice sending vibrations through her. “All I want is to keep you safe.”
Zara scowled, snapping out of the haze threatening to engulf her. “Bit late for that,” she complained, futilely slapping at his enormous shoulders.
With a sigh, he stopped and flopped down on the bed beside her, moodily staring at the ceiling. In spite of her wriggling, he gathered her against him with one arm so they were – goodness – cuddling.
“If you don’t want to hurt me,” she said squirming against him, “you could tell me where your brother is.”
“I can’t.”
“Or won’t?”
“Stop looking for him.”
“Knew I should have cursed you,” she grumbled.
Holt let out a shuddering breath, and he twisted slightly to his side. She could feel his erection pressing into her, and a part of her fluttered eagerly.
He took one of her hands in his. “You’ve no idea how sorry I am, peaches. Click.”
“What?”
“I just said click to cover up the noise,” he explained, carefully extricating himself from her.
“What noise?”
Zara grunted in frustration as she realized the devious gorilla had slapped a handcuff on one of her wrists and managed to attach the other to the bed frame.
“Holt!”
She kicked wildly, but he was already out of reach.
“What the hell?”
“Sorry angel pie, but I can’t have you getting hurt.” He had the decency to look a little contrite. Though Zara would have preferred him to have the decency to free her and kick himself in the nards at that moment.
“Ugh!” She twisted her wrist, but his handcuffs were very sturdy. He had the same brand she did – they were great for shifters. Then it hit her. “Why do you have cuffs lying around?” Who had he been using them on? That young girl with flowing black hair?!
His somber expression lifted, and he looked very pleased. “You left them here.”
“What? I… oh.” Yep, that was where she had left them. During their brief – very brief – time together she had given him a demonstration of how she caught and cuffed her bounties. Most enjoyable at the time and Holt had been an eager participant.
“Ah yes, during the biggest mistake of my life,” she snapped, furious with herself for leaving them in the first place.
He almost looked hurt at that. An outraged part of her wanted to harangue him about that – what right did he have to be hurt? But what was the point?
She rattled the cuffs, uselessly as she knew there was no way she could break them. If they could hold an elephant shifter, they could certainly hold a skinny witch.
“Careful, hot lips, you’ll hurt your wrists,” he said disapprovingly. “You just stay here, and I’ll sort out my brother.”
“Well, I, ah, what if I need to go to the bathroom?”
He looked uncertain for a moment before disappearing and returning with a bucket.
Zara stared at it. “Are you kidding?!”
He was not kidding. “C’mon, my little cinnamon stick, I’ve seen every single inch of you,” his eyes lingered over her body, “I can handle a bucket of pee… or more.”
“Eeuw!”
Holt chuckled. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“You plan on handing your brother over to the cops?” she asked, feeling her commission fluttering away. It was going the way of her last inch of pride.
He slanted his head to one side. “I’ll sort him out.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“Just try and relax, babycakes. You’re always so tense.”
“I’m not always tense,” she denied in irritation, “and how would you know what I always am?”
“Well, around me you’re always tense.”
“Yeah, I wonder why.”
He winked at her. “See you soon.”
Zara rolled her eyes and listened to the sounds of him leaving the apartment. She counted to ten before pulling a hairpin out of her complicated up-do – which she might have spent a whole hour on when she knew she would be seeing him - and working her magic on the lock. Not literally her magic, but more like a misspent youth. Was Holt really so oblivious? How did he think she got into her perps’ houses? A cuff was no more difficult than a door.
She made short work of the cuffs and pocketed them for later. The key had been tossed in the trash months ago, but she was sure she could make use of them before the day was out.
She took the opportunity to poke around Holt’s bedroom. It really hadn’t changed since the last time she was there. Still weirdly pink and frilly. Hell, there were even doilies. Everything about the room was a sharp contrast to the collection of work boots, tight black t-shirts and worn jeans he owned. Not to mention compared to the man himself.
He was an enigma all right. A big, masculine, sexy enigma. Nothing in the past six months had dimmed her arousal for him, and being around him softened her exponentially.
Zara gazed around the room. If she hadn’t seen him in the bed with her own two eyes, she’d never of guessed he would sleep there, and she had spent two full minutes staring at him until she jumped on him to get his attention. He looked like a particularly masculine sleeping angel. One who looked like he had perhaps spent too much time in the heaven gym and had his nose broken a few too many times by demons perhaps, but still an angel.
The silver glint of a photo frame caught her attention. There was a photo of him, his brother and the young black haired woman. It looked a few years old. In it, she barely even looked eighteen.
Zara’s eyes narrowed as she hardened her heart. Nothing had changed. He was still an asshole, and she was going to hunt down his brother and drag him to jail and finally take her vengeance. Mwah ha ha.
Chapter Four
Holt didn’t bother with his brother’s apartment. Zara said Sean wasn’t there, and he didn’t doubt her. Sure, he figured she was trying to piss him off, but she wasn’t sloppy. Everything he knew about her confirmed that, and h
e knew about as much as was possible with the aid of a couple of private investigators and a pair of binoculars.
Zara was his mate. His dark sinned, black haired, hazel eyed goddess of a mate. His gorilla beat his chest.
He’d been sure of it since the moment he met her, but… the timing was way off. He couldn’t have Zara and keep both her and Rachel safe, so he pushed Zara away. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he told himself it was just temporary.
His gorilla huffed and scratched his butt at that. Yeah, yeah, he knew the beast didn’t want to hear it again. It was the only thing that had kept Holt going over the last six months. Keeping her safe was worth all the pain of watching her trying to laugh and flirt with other – and definitely lesser added his animal – men. Of spending night after night enduring cold showers knowing that her hot little body was not far away. Probably naked under the covers, twisting and turning as she dreamed about him… well, he could hope that was what she was doing. He’d made damn sure she spent her nights alone.
His beast snorted. Didn’t take much to scare those other men away from her. Hell, he didn’t always have to scare them. One of them was a regular at his club, and on being told that he would be barred if he didn’t cut his date short, he soon hopped on out of there. Okay, maybe that had been a threat, but it was barely a threat. Clearly, the guy didn’t even deserve to live on the same planet as Zara, never mind date her. What guy in their right mind would choose a strip club over Zara? An asshole replied his beast.
The last six months had not been ideal, learning about your new mate while perched in a tree spying on her was always going to be tricky. But he had to be careful. If his uncle learned of Zara’s existence, Holt had no idea what he would do.
Perhaps he should not have taken her home the night he met her. Perhaps he should have left her alone until he was able to take her fully as a mate. But he had been selfish, and certainly not thinking logically. Nope, all the thinking had been done by his beast and his dick that night.
Frustrating. As. Hell.
Pretty much all he knew was that Zara always wore boots, never wore skirts, loved her cat and talked to it incessantly at home and she was a fan of romantic comedies. She was also very adept at picking locks. Six months surveillance on her had made that clear.