by Olivia Arran
But, man, could she act. She’d just finished an action sequence, though why the hell there needed to be an action sequence to advertise perfume, I didn’t have a fucking clue, but there had been no body double for her. She had thrown every kick, taken every fake punch, and dodged every fake bullet herself. All while wearing silk.
Torn silk by the end of the scene.
I had nearly stormed onto the set when a man had grabbed her shoulder, ripping her dress.
I had wanted to rip his head off.
And then the director had called cut. Lucky guy.
And now I was waiting outside the tent again. I tapped my ear, activating the earpiece. “Check in.”
“Clear.” Abel.
“All quiet.” Vin.
“Secure.” Greg.
“Wow, there are some smoking hot—”
I cut him off, grinding my teeth together. “Professional, Angel.”
“Sorry, boss. Everything A-Okay here.” I could hear his smirk loud and clear.
Tapping out, I forced myself to relax. Which was kind of hard with the attention I was attracting—had been attracting all day. Cameras snapped in my direction, whispers and giggles ringing in my ears. An ache started in a rear molar, probably from the amount of grinding I’d been doing all day. Which idiot decided on an open set? Though, given the location, there wasn’t much they could do about fans hanging around. We were shooting outside, and though part of the park was closed off for filming, there were plenty of people happy to hang around and enjoy the sunny day.
A gasp rolled through the crowd, snagging my attention. What—? My jaw nearly hit the ground as Natasha sashayed past me. And this was definitely Natasha, her eyes blank as she ignored the catcalls from the crowd.
I blocked her with an arm, spinning her around to shield her body from the crowd. “You can’t go out like that!” I didn’t know where to look. I couldn’t touch her without my hand grazing heated skin. Her ample curves were precariously covered by the tiniest black swimsuit I’d ever seen. Hell, it wasn’t even a swimsuit. It had more bits cut out than sewn together. Grabbing the robe that hung off her shoulders, I tugged it together, tying it in a knot.
She stood still, letting me manhandle her. Then she murmured, her words barely audible, “Have you finished?”
I gave the knot one last tug, making sure it was secure, and nodded, adding a grunt when her eyebrow shot up. Her eyes darkened, swirling with an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint. Didn’t want to figure out. She sashayed away without a backward glance.
Mutters of disappointment rose from the crowd, as well as more than a few disparaging remarks thrown in my direction.
Whatever. My blood was still boiling, the image of her seared into my retinas.
“Are you actually going to follow her, or should one of us take over?” Greg’s voice sounded in my ear, a little too eager for my liking.
“I’ve got it,” I snapped, his responding laugh nearly deafening me.
“Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say.”
I bit back the snarl welling in my throat as I marched over to the lake, tracking Natasha’s white robe easily.
I halted at the perimeter. The director called for silence on the set. With deft fingers, Natasha untied the robe, passing it to a crew member. I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my chest. Then I swallowed again, trying to force the saliva back into my mouth.
She walked into the lake, her fingers trailing ripples on the smooth surface, the water lapping at her thighs and her ass.
“Right there, Natasha,” the director called. She paused to face him, then crouched down, submerging herself.
“Action!”
She rose up from the water, beads cascading off tanned, smooth skin, pooling in the valley between her breasts. Her nipples beaded beneath the thin, black fabric as her hands rung water from dripping-wet hair. Her lashes were downcast, her brow drawn in a small frown, her lips parted slightly in a pout.
She visibly jolted, her eyes widening at the sight of a man striding toward her, his jeans ripped and torn, his bare chest coated with blood and dirt. “I thought you had left?”
“I’m never leaving you,” Jorge called out, in my opinion clearly enjoying his part a little too much judging from the heat in his eyes.
Directed at my mate…
He waded into the water, not stopping until he reached her.
No. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
He crushed Natasha to his chest, his mouth coming down to claim hers.
She gasped, her arms winding around his neck as—
“Cut!”
Eyes flew to me.
“What? Who?” The director spluttered, his face deepening into a startling shade of red.
Fuck. Only one thing for it. “She’s finished for the day,” I growled, fixing my eyes on the smaller man.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her wade toward me. The water was still rolling off her, beads still gathering...
I had to turn my head to physically rip my eyes away. My eyes landed on Jorge. The man’s eyes were burning into her, his gaze undressing her as I watched. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips.
I took a step forward. A hand landed on my chest. I looked down, my lips peeling back from my teeth. The hand started to shake, but didn’t move.
Jorge was moving, catching up with Natasha. His hand reached out, snagging her around the waist.
I grabbed the hand restraining me, twisting it back and around. A deep cry echoed in my ears.
“Shit! What are you doing, Cole?” Angel hissed in my ear.
My vision narrowed until only Natasha and Jorge existed. “Take your hand off her.” The voice didn’t sound like mine. My wolf was shifting my vocal chords.
“Cole?” She blinked at me once, then looked down at the hand on her waist. “Jorge, you might want to take a step back,” she muttered under her breath.
“We need to finish filming. Fire your security. He’s out of line. Who does he think he is?” Jorge sneered, his gaze raking over me with a look that obviously found me lacking.
Her mate, my wolf snarled deep inside of me, his claws raking at my skin. “I’ll give you one last chance to take your hand off her…”
“Or what? You’ll make me? You can’t touch me!”
I lurched forward.
“Cole, stand down!” Greg snapped out. “Guys, we have a problem.”
“You think I can’t see that?” Angel snapped back, his breath thundering in my ear.
“Almost there,” Vin added.
“Cole!” Natasha’s voice cut through the white noise. Grabbing my arm as I reached her, she twisted away from Jorge, plastering herself to my chest. “Look at me,” she demanded, her voice low.
My wolf flashed into my eyes and I averted them quickly. My chest strained with every sucked in breath, my skin tingling from her touch. Water soaked into my boots, creeping up my legs, plastering denim to skin.
“Cole, Look at me.”
I couldn’t, not with my wolf so close to the surface. What would she think?
A small hand cupped my jaw firmly, nails scraping across stubble.
A shudder ran down my spine at my mate’s touch.
“It’s okay, I’ve got this.” She wasn’t talking to me. Her words were directed over my shoulder.
What the fuck had I done? I’d lost it in front of everyone. “I... Tasha…” I couldn’t explain. She wouldn’t understand.
“We need to talk.”
She was right, we did. Leaning down, I scooped her up into my arms, her damp skin cold against my chest. Not meeting anyone’s eyes, I started to run.
“Stand down, guys.” Greg’s words echoed in my ears as I ripped the earpiece off and tossed it to the ground.
Chapter Thirteen
Natasha
Faces blurred together as we ran, or rather as Cole ran, his face drawn in rigid lines and arms cradling me tight. We reached the edge of the park and he didn’t stop, his long legs scaling t
he small hill then shooting into the woodlands that created a boundary between the park and the city edge.
“Cole?”
He didn’t look at me, or acknowledge me at all.
But he did slow down.
“Cole, stop.” Why wouldn’t he look at me? I tilted back, trying to see his eyes.
“Stop wriggling,” he grunted, one large hand moving to palm my ass and sending heat thrumming through my core.
Did he know what he did to me?
He sucked in a deep breath, grinding to a sudden halt.
Emerald green eyes flashed at me, glowing bright in the shadows of the trees. He made a strangled noise, my only warning before his mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue thrusting between my lips.
Seconds later, I was flat on the ground, the weight of him resting heavy in the cradle of my hips, his hands smoothing over my face as he savaged my mouth.
Twining my leg around his hip, I arched into him, heat crashing through me, my fingers digging into his back.
“Cole!” I gasped out as he nipped at my neck, his tongue swirling lazy circles down to my chest.
Twigs dug into my bare back, scraping against my skin as I rocked against him, his cock thick and hard through his jeans, pressing and promising.
His teeth found my nipple through the thin fabric, grazing and tracing the delicate skin.
I hooked my fingers into his waistband, tugging at the infuriating obstruction.
He groaned, lifting away, then the sound of a zipper sliding free reached my ears.
Yes! I reached down, but he grabbed my hand, pinning it above my head. His mouth moved to my other breast as his knees pushed my legs wide.
He wasn’t looking at me. I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging him up. I needed him to look at me.
He resisted, sucking an aching nub into his mouth, his hand burrowing between my legs and sliding underneath the damp fabric to find my pussy. A thick finger speared me, sliding deep inside.
Pleasure coiled inside of me as he stroked me higher, the world fading into obscurity, my soft moans deafening in the silence.
But he’s still not looking at you, the small voice inside my head nagged, getting louder with each thrust of his hand, each tug of his mouth. When would he look at me? After?
The building heat spluttered, fading as a chill settled over me, chasing away the passion.
Giving his head a final tug, I forced his eyes up.
Cole
My mate… Her scent surrounded me, burying me. Her body caressed me, holding me. I was lost. In her.
I can’t stop! A voice screamed at me, trying to tell me something. What? I should stop. I shouldn’t be doing this.
Why? It felt good. Right. So why should I stop? We were meant to be together. Fate had decided. Who was I to refuse?
That tugging again, her fingers ripping at my scalp. I can’t look at her. I can’t let her see the wolf.
Why? She needs to know, my wolf offered.
But she won’t understand.
He growled inside my head, urging me on. Maybe she will?
I let her draw me up until I met her gaze. Dark lashes framed eyes blurry with lust, cheeks flushed with passion, and lips swollen and well-loved.
My wolf howled inside of me, his approval loud and clear. It didn’t matter to him that she didn’t have a wolf. She was ours, just as we were hers.
No!
I slammed on the brakes, hard. I couldn’t do this. I had promised myself.
I scrambled to my feet, backing away.
Her eyes fell to my groin, and I tucked myself away, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“Tasha…” I didn’t know what to say. The way she was looking at me... confused and hopeful. Scared. “I would never hurt you.”
“I know.”
Her quiet acknowledgment rocked me back. “You do?”
Sitting up, she nodded. Smoothing her hair back, she pulled a twig free, then another, not saying a word. She was waiting for an explanation.
“I couldn’t stand his hands on you.” Just thinking about it brought the fury roaring back. My hands clenched into fists as my claws shot out and pierced my palms.
“I can see that.” She nodded at my hands, her lips twisting in a smirk.
One I’d like to kiss right off those lips. I took another step back, putting more space between us.
Hurt flitted through her eyes, but was quickly masked. “So, what now? I have a job to do. We’re due to finish shooting in less than two weeks.”
There is was again—two weeks. I ignored her question, refusing to think about her returning to the set. To him. “And what happens in two weeks?”
Rolling a twig between her fingers, her lips pressed together to form a thin line. Then she shrugged, the action looking forced. “Life goes on. I move on.”
“You’ll go back home?” Where is home? I wanted to ask, but didn’t.
“Maybe?” She didn’t sound sure. “I don’t have a home, not really. I go where I’m told.”
I had an unusual talent, one that made me very good at my job. I could smell lies. And her scent had changed, souring slightly. And she wasn’t looking at me. “Natasha—”
“I liked it when you called me Tasha.” Her voice was wistful, her gaze still riveted on the twig twirling in her hand.
So did I. Too much. “Tasha, what are you planning?”
Brown eyes clashed with mine. “Nothing.” She jumped to her feet, brushing herself off. “We should get back. People will be wondering where we’ve got to.”
“Tasha…” I tried again, catching her arm as she brushed past me.
She paused, her throat moving as she swallowed hard. “I can’t just disappear into the woods with a man for hours. People will talk.”
“Let them talk,” I muttered.
“That would be fine, if there was something for them to talk about.” Her chin jutted out in silent challenge as she stared at me. Daring me.
My turn to swallow. “I... I can’t.”
“I know,” she whispered, pulling free of my hold and walking away.
And, hating myself, I let her go.
Chapter Fourteen
Natasha
I tried to clear my mind on the walk back to the set, but something was bugging me. Okay, Cole was bugging me. The man had gotten under my skin. One minute he wanted me, the next he was pushing me away as if his life depended on it.
I could feel his eyes on me as he lagged behind, burning into me with an intensity I was starting to recognize as pure Cole. I refused to look back. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Not after that little stunt he had just pulled. Who did he think he was? I threw back my shoulders, rolling them to ease the tension crawling up my spine. Dragging me off the set like a caveman...
Or like a shifter claiming his mate, all alpha and growly and possessive.
Bullshit! If that’d been true he wouldn’t have stopped. His tongue would have continued licking its torturous path, setting my body on fire. His fingers would have—
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the glimpse I had gotten of him before he had zipped himself back up out of my mind, crouching over me all dark and feral and sexy. Now, that was an image to revisit later…
I stifled a snigger, wondering how the man in question would feel being relegated to my naughty folder.
“What’s so funny?”
I hadn’t even heard him come up behind me. Damn those sneaky shifter talents! “Nothing. You.” I couldn’t help myself adding the last word while sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
“Me?” He sounded mildly worried underneath the blandness he was so obviously striving for.
“Yes, you. I’ve decided that I might as well find this whole thing funny.” Actually, I hadn’t, not until right this moment. But the second the words left my mouth, it was as if a weight had been lifted. I wasn’t going to worry about it—whatever it was. Papa had always said the best way forward was in
a straight line. So I wasn’t going to dodge and weave around Cole anymore. I needed him to protect me, and we needed to get along. Period. Anything else? Fate would decide.
The ache in my chest was just fear. Someone was trying to kill me, after all.
“Funny?” His brow had creased into thick lines, as though he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle.
A peal of laughter escaped, and I let it go this time. “Yes. Whatever this is—” I swirled the air between us, “—it’s obviously not meant to be. Which is fine, by the way. I have no intention of getting into a relationship right now. Me and relationships? Yeah, we don’t work out.”
He grabbed my hand, tugging me to a standstill. Peering at me like I’d lost my mind, he lowered his voice. “Are you all right? This doesn’t sound like you. Not the you I’ve gotten to know.”
I tugged my hand free, popping it onto my hip.
His eyes drifted lower, then snapped back up, along with a clench to his jaw.
“That’s just it, Cole. You don’t know me very well. And that’s okay, you don’t have to. You just have to do your job. I just figured, why should we fight all the time? Truce?”
His eyes narrowed as he took the hand I was offering, and I didn’t blame him. I could hardly believe the words coming out of my mouth either. But I was so tired and exhausted that I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t want to try and figure any of this out. I wasn’t his mate, so it didn’t matter anyway. None of it did.
I plastered a smile on my face. Okay, maybe a small part of me was enjoying throwing a curve ball at him. I was guessing it wasn’t often that someone managed to surprise a man like Cole. Maybe we could even be friends? If I could convince my libido, that was better than nothing.
“Truce,” he echoed, his hand warm and dry, squeezing mine. “I’ll do my job, you do yours.”
“Great!” I forced out, adding, “that’s if you’ll let me do my job.”
He didn’t bother to hide the low growl, and not for the first time I wondered how the hell he managed to convince people he was just human. I mean, he wasn’t even trying to hide his shifter side. Didn’t he care? Did he want me to guess?