Sex crazed and exhausted. Perfect combination for getting back to work after all that had happened yesterday. Not to mention the phone call.
She hadn’t heard from Ryan, so she had to assume he’d be in this morning. The light turned yellow up ahead and Paige’s anxiety shot up. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to become a victim like Matthews, the man who earned his living by watching other people’s backs. The thought made her shiver and had her glancing in her rearview mirror.
Her nervousness faded. Derek was still there. He did that for her, kept her calm. Had to have something to do with being her mate. The whole situation was weighing heavily on her, keeping her from focusing on what she needed to. Like work.
The light turned green and she moved through the intersection, half expecting a semi to come screeching through and T-bone her.
Lord, girl. Relax.
Derek waved at her, probably sensing she was on edge. And why shouldn’t she be? Her flower-giving secret admirer had turned into a hit-and-run, dump-the-body-in-the-trunk, call-her-in-the-middle-of-the-night-talking-about-cleansing-her psycho.
Surely Tucker wasn’t that dumb? She hadn’t recognized the voice because it sounded as if he’d been talking through his nose.
Then who else? She’d racked her brain for the endless hours she’d lain awake in Derek’s arms, trying to think of another possibility, and there was no one. Tucker was the only man who both physically and mentally had anything to do with her. Besides Ryan and Craig, but Ryan had a girlfriend, and Craig, well, Craig…
No. Not Craig. The man might be a bit of a jerk in his spare time, but he was a genius when it came to computers. He’d never once tried to put a move on her, flirted with her or even acted like he wanted to see her face outside of work. While their little group got along—extremely well considering his boorishness—she’d learned to accept him. He was just…Craig. Not a stalker type.
Paige pulled into the parking lot of Trice and found a free spot as close to the building as possible. No sense in asking for trouble. She glanced up at the corner where a video camera scanned the lot and hoped it was enough of a deterrent. Then she suddenly wondered where her backbone had gone.
A week of flowers, a phone call in the night. Perhaps it had slithered out with the thought of someone in her home. Or with the image of Matthews in the trunk of his car. Matthews, who’d been watching her, making sure she was okay. No one would convince her that what had happened to him had nothing to do with her.
She unlocked the door and pushed it open to find Derek with his palm up, ready to help her out.
“You okay?”
She nodded and grabbed the laptop bag from the seat next to her. Thankfully there’d been no flowers on the porch when they’d gotten there. Maybe Caelan had finally gotten through Tucker’s thick skull.
“Overly spooked, I think. I’d love to tell myself to grow some balls, but that would make me a man and I kinda like being a woman right now.”
Derek smiled, making her heart lurch. “I like you being a woman too,” he growled. “I am so glad you’re not a man. I’m an open person when it comes to the whole gay issue—hey, to each his own—but you being a man would make this mate thing a bit hard to swallow. Besides, you have the right to be spooked. I’d be worried if you weren’t.” He leaned in, kissed her softly and murmured against her lips, “I’ll be here today.”
“I know. Invading my space, getting in the way, looking over my shoulder, being a nuisance…”
He tilted his head back. She chuckled. “Just kidding.” Even if she weren’t in a predicament, she’d want him around today. His mate status was too new for her to part with him. She didn’t want him getting any ideas about straying.
“Hey.” He grasped her face in his hands. “It’ll be okay. Let’s get through today. Tonight you’ll be surrounded by family, tomorrow the same. The rest of the time you’ll be with me.” He put his lips on her forehead.
Paige shut her eyes. Being with her was what had her worried. What if he ended up like Matthews?
Derek slapped her butt, jerking her out of her misery. The tingle awakened her sex drive and shot straight to her clit.
“It is not okay to tempt me right now, mate.”
“No?” Tucking his hands into her back pockets, he snuggled her close. Made her feel safe, secure in a world of chaos.
He moved backward, pulling her forward. The car door slammed behind her. Then he turned and marched them toward the building.
“Don’t you think this is an awkward way for me to show up for work?”
“What? You don’t like having me in your back pocket?”
She bit her lip as he squeezed. “Mm-hmm. Wrapped around my little finger too, but still…awkward, I tell ya.”
“Fine,” he sighed and extracted his hands from their confines before placing them on her shoulders and turning her around. “Lock your car.”
She did with a push of the button on her remote. She heard the horn honk, pushed it again for good measure and stepped inside Trice. The security guard at the front desk greeted her with a nod of his head. Paige pulled her ID from the zippered pocket of her laptop bag and scanned it before introducing Derek and getting the proper clearance for him. Then they headed through the metal detector.
She could do this. She’d get through today just like every other day. What could possibly happen around her teammates?
A few floors up in the elevator and a couple of twists she didn’t even remember actually taking and they were standing inside her door.
“This is my office.”
“It’s a great office. Even better with you in it.” He kicked the door shut with his heel and swaggered closer. His arms closed around her and he leaned in to nuzzle her mouth with his.
Paige sank into him, aligning her body to feel all of him. His thighs against hers, his erection against her belly, her breasts flush against his torso. Her laptop bag thumped on the carpeted floor when she let it go to wind her arms around his neck. She had to stand on her tiptoes for better access.
Lord, he tasted so good.
“Ahem.”
Paige yanked away. Her heart pounded in her ears and her cheeks heated. Talk about getting caught red-handed. “Sheesus. You scared the crap out of me, Craig.”
“Sorry.”
Yeah. He sounded real sorry.
Derek stuck a hand out, a boyish grin on his face, seemingly unperturbed at having been interrupted. Paige wanted nothing more than to shove Craig out, lock the door and have her way with her mate right there on the floor.
Damn, she had to get her libido under control or she’d never make it through the next hour with him so close, let alone the whole day.
Craig took the offered shake, albeit reluctantly.
“Derek Taylor.”
“Craig Pendelton,” he grumbled. “What’s he doing here?”
“Wow. Good morning to you too.” Paige’s first emotion was indignation. How dare he question why her mate had joined her? But then common sense hit her. What exactly was she supposed to say? She guessed she’d have to come up with a reason for him to be there.
Derek took the burden off her shoulders. “I’m looking at getting into the field. Thought I’d sit in with Paige and see what you guys really do here.”
Craig’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated Derek’s explanation. “Whatever. Are we actually going to work today?”
“I haven’t heard from Ryan, but I’m assuming we’re set to finish up.”
“I say we do this with or without him.”
“Craig, the man’s girlfriend was raped. Cut him some slack. What’s wrong with you anyway?”
“Nothing.”
Right. “Nothing” explained his bloodshot eyes and the surliness, which was getting surlier every day. There had to be something going on, not that he’d ever shar
e. She watched him put his briefcase on the table, his shoulders hunched, and had a feeling today wouldn’t go much better than yesterday.
“I’m going down to the cafeteria.” Craig turned, looking almost like his normal self and not the agitated man he’d been the last couple of weeks. “You want anything?”
Surprised he would even offer, Paige shook her head.
“I think I’ll go with you.” Derek glanced at Paige. “You’ll be all right?”
“Yes.” She needed the breathing room anyway.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t leave this office. There’s a guard just down the hall, so you’re not alone.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
How the hell… When had he done that?
He waited for her acknowledgment before following Craig from the office. Paige blew out a breath and stepped around to her desk chair. They each had their own small space, one in each corner of the room with the conference-type table taking up the middle, where they could lay their ideas out and work together.
She drew to stop, cocked her head and wondered about the manila envelope lying there atop her blotter. Her name was affixed to the front, but there was no return address. Not that it was strange for her to receive packages, but coming now, on top of everything else…
Paige lifted the small package. Whatever it held, it weighed almost nothing. She carefully peeled it open, upended it and stared open-mouthed at the silver, bubble-like, heart-shaped pendant attached to a chain that fell out.
Her stomach revolted, turning over and threatening to spew. She didn’t own such an item, and not because the item was silver. The myth that silver killed a werewolf was just that—a myth. If someone shot her in the ass, silver or not, it would still hurt like hell and possibly lead to her death.
As a shifter, it was true, she healed faster than the normal human, but not even she could heal a bullet wound in a strategic place.
Not touching the gaudy piece, she lifted the folded paper that had come out with it by one corner and shook it open before letting it fall to the desk. No way did she want to hold it. Hands fisted at her sides, she took a long breath through her nose.
Wear this for me, Mate, it said in bold, black letters.
Anger swelled within her. How dare he come to her place of work?
First he invaded her house, her sanctuary, then the privacy of her lover’s space, and now her home away from home. Apparently Caelan hadn’t gotten through Tucker’s thick head. She suddenly wished it had been something sturdier she’d swung at him the other night rather than a bunch of flowers. Obviously he hadn’t gotten the message.
Jesus. Assuming it was him who’d done all these things.
Paige reached for the phone, her fingers outstretched, barely grazing the handset before she yanked them back. Who was she going to call? Derek would be on his way up any minute. He was fully aware the situation. She smoothed her hands on her khaki pants and tucked a few strands of long blonde hair that had fallen from its clip behind her ear.
Calmly, as if her entire body weren’t buzzing with anxiety, she grabbed a pencil and lifted the necklace. The pendant dangled from the end, catching the light as it turned and acting as a tiny mirror. She saw her face reduced on the inch-wide plane of silver and the way it reflected her image. Discombobulated, warped, unhinged, irregular. There were any number of words she could use to describe herself right now.
Paige twisted in an effort to find some place she might put the necklace until she could show Derek. From software creator to forensic scientist in 5.5 seconds. An interoffice envelope caught her eye, and holding her hand away from her body as if to avoid being bitten by the inanimate object, she shuffled over to the file cabinet. With her free hand, Paige jerked the envelope from underneath the stack of papers that sat on top of it and dumped its contents on the ground.
With a snap of her wrist, she opened it and slid the necklace inside. Now for the paper. Turning back to her desk, she contemplated how to get it inside without touching it any more than she had. As absurd as it sounded, she didn’t want to be tainted by whoever had written those words. He already had more of a force in her life than she wanted to admit.
Without tweezers handy, she was going to have to lift it with her fingers.
“Bastard,” she muttered. “If I had tweezers, I’d go after your eyes first. Like a crow. Peck out those eyeballs till there was nothing left in the sockets. Then I’d go after your balls. Wear this for me.” She snarled, her lip curling at the corner with disgust, her fangs showing themselves. “I’ll strangle you with it.”
Now, which corner had she touched already?
“Talking to yourself again?”
Paige jumped with a yelp and dropped both the envelope and the paper she’d so painstakingly gripped with the fingernails of her thumb and forefinger. Ryan stood in the doorway of the office, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked better than yesterday, at least. Not so worn out. His clothes were back to their usual pressed neatness.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she accused.
“I see that. Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He started forward. “Let me help you.”
“No,” she snapped, then sobered. “I mean, no, I got it. Just…dropped my envelope,” she semi-lied cheerfully and bent to retrieve the blasted thing, groaning when she saw the pendant had slipped out the top.
Damn it. She couldn’t very well use a pencil to pick it up with Ryan standing on top of her. For one thing, he was a man, he wouldn’t understand her need to not dirty herself by touching the necklace, and second, she didn’t want to go into why she didn’t want to put her fingerprints on the damn thing.
He had enough problems to think about without her adding to his worries. And she knew he would worry. He was just that type of man.
Paige grabbed the envelope she’d chosen, stood and kicked the pendant further under the desk so he wouldn’t see it and ask about it. She wanted to stomp on little piece of metal and break the heart of the asshole who’d left it for her. Literally.
“How are you?” she asked, feeling the blood rush from her head because she’d stood too fast.
“I’m fine.” He eyeballed her like he knew she was hiding something.
She nibbled at her lower lip and nodded. “How’s Katie doing?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She won’t let me see her. In fact, she told her family to let me know she was breaking things off.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry, Ryan.”
He shrugged again and his mouth twisted. “It’s for the best, I guess. We hadn’t been together long, and now this…”
She heard the catch in his voice, saw the despair in his eyes and wanted to hug him.
“Still. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” He scuffed the carpet with the toe of his polished shoe. “You ever think about doing something different?”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. Get away from the city, from work, from everything. Don’t you find all this rather monotonous?”
What the hell?
Monotonous? There was no monotony. They worked on a project until it was finished and then they started a new one. Something totally different from the last one. How was that monotonous? And since when did Ryan think their work was boring? He showed up every day at the same time she did, worked side by side with her for the most part, and now he was telling her he was tired of work? She smoothed a hand over her hair, retucking the stray strands behind her ear again, and moved from behind her desk.
“Nope,” she said succinctly and practically pushed him toward the table. She’d deal with Mr. Harasser and his gift later. “I like it here. With you guys. Besides, I’ve done the ‘country’, so to speak, and I think I’d rather stay in the city. My house isn’t very citified anyway. It’s more country-ish. But I like
living so close to things.”
He moved closer. “No yearnings to go back to where you were before?”
Paige tilted her head away to see him better since he was practically toe-to-toe with her. “Not so much. There are some bad memories there I’d rather not revisit.”
“Your parents?”
She swallowed, remembering the police officer who had come to her door that night three years ago, and nodded. Taking a step backward, she fortified herself. “Yes.”
“Hey, you two. Ryan, how are you?” Tracy saved the day by jaunting in, thank God, allowing Paige to shake off the crushing sensation it had taken so long to rid herself of.
Losing her parents in a hit-and-run accident had been horrible, and if she never had to think about it again, she’d be one happy person. She much preferred thinking of them full of life. Not seeing them on slabs in the morgue, where she’d had to go to identify their battered, still-bloody bodies.
An absolute senseless waste of life, and the son of a bitch who’d done it had gotten away with it. At first it had looked like an accident. It seemed as though her parents had driven off the road and down an embankment to plow into the trees at sixty miles an hour. Neither one had lived through the impact—for that she was grateful. But then the police had found evidence their car had been sideswiped before going over.
Now, not only were her parents dead, but they’d basically been murdered. And whoever had caused it was free. Probably a drunk who’d no doubt do it again.
“I’m fine,” Ryan gritted through his teeth, giving Tracy the same answer he given Paige as he yanked a chair out to sit down.
And exasperated, Paige thought. Were they not supposed to ask a man how he was after his girlfriend got raped?
Tracy came to stand behind him and rested a manicured hand on his shoulder. “You look better. Have they let you in to s—”
“No,” he barked, making both women jump. “She broke things off via her family. It’s over.”
“Oh.” Tracy gawked at Paige over Ryan’s head and then mouthed, What’d I say?
Paige shook her head slightly, trying to get her to change the subject.
Ultimatum: Graham Pack Mates, Book 3 Page 12