Betrayed by Shadows

by Nancy Gideon

  “My family is nothing but trouble. Always has been and always will be. That’s why I love them and can’t live without them. Even if they’re not all my blood kin.” He leaned down to press a gentle kiss upon her temple. “They’ll accept you and that baby because you’re with me. And I’ll accept you and that baby, too.”

  “Because it’s part of your job, your obligation?” She stared hard at their joined hands. The slight quiver in her voice melted his heart.

  He laughed. “No. Because I want to. Because I need to. Because I can’t wait to. Now. Not later.” He cupped her chin in his palm to lift it so their eyes met and held. “Because I love you, Brigit MacCreedy. And I’ll love that child and our children. If you’ll let me.”

  More tears wobbled at the tips of her lashes, but still she didn’t speak.

  “I want to be the right man for you.”

  Her mouth softened into a smile. “Don’t be silly, Giles. You always have been.”

  She reached up to draw him down into a kiss, her lips warm, welcoming his slow plunder.

  Sweet. Worth everything.

  With his brow touching hers, he asked through the tremendous lump in his throat, “So you’d trust me with your future and with your child?”

  “I couldn’t think of a better lover or father. Look how much you’ve taught me already.”

  He smiled. “Like what?”

  He gave a slight jump as her palm rubbed against the crotch of his jeans. In no time he’d filled the cup of her hand with a heavy throb of interest.

  “Like how to squeeze gently from the bottom,” she murmured with a glint of wickedness.

  “Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate.”

  “Without the toss overboard?”

  “Goddess, I’ve been overboard and drowning since the first time I saw you.”

  She smiled at that and led him to the big bedroom. Not by the hand.

  Drowsing in the mussed bed sometime later, Giles smiled as he watched her bend over to fill the tub. “You are one helluva fast learner. You’ll make a damned fine Cajun.”

  She looked over her shoulder, forcing his attention from the sassy curve of her buttocks. “And you’ll make a damned fine attorney.”

  “What?” Now she had his full focus.

  “What do you want our children to say when they start school? ‘My mama’s a Shape-shifter and my daddy’s a thug’? I can’t change what I am.”

  He frowned, more disturbed by her cool assessment than he cared to be. “I’m a tad old to be going back to college.”

  She made a rude sound. “If I can bear children, you can do homework.”

  His scowl deepened. “I thought you had no problem with what I do.”

  “I don’t. I love what you are.” She stepped into the tub and sank into bubbly water that rose up to her chin. “Come here and let me show you how much. Unless your manliness is threatened by a little scented water.”

  “I think my manliness can survive it.” He rolled off the bed, proof of his claim already engorged as he joined her in the tub.

  Good God. He was going to smell like a French Quarter whore. An expensive one. He could imagine Boyd’s comments.

  That worry was quickly forgotten as Brigit slid against him on her way to seize his lips for a lusty sampling. When she’d drained all the blood from his head to have it pounding elsewhere, she whispered, “The thought of sleeping with a lawyer makes me hot.”

  He snorted. “Are you sure that’s not the thought of sleeping with a college student?”

  Though she was straddling his lap, her intense gaze kept him from distraction. “I would never be ashamed of anything you choose to be or do. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”

  “I don’t have any,” he said too quickly.

  She kissed him, softly, slowly, then argued, “Yes, you do. I know a good-guy complex when I see one. My brother suffered from it for years. You want to do good deeds to make up for everything that’s wrong with the world, for every wrong you think you’ve done.”

  He lifted her up, then eased her down atop him until both of them were breathing heavily. “And you think that’s a turn-on?”

  “Not so much with Silas, but definitely as it applies to you.” She clasped the back of his head, her eyes closing as she began small, succulent lifts.

  “A lawyer,” he mused, hands on her trim waist to guide her movements. “It’d have to be night school. It’s not like I’d have a lot of time to put into it.”

  “You’re putting it in just fine, honey bear.”

  He grinned at her throaty compliment. “I’d be graduating about the same time as Oscar. That would be embarrassing.”

  “Not for us. A double celebration. That would be . . . Oh, like that. Right there . . . Oh, yes! . . . fun, don’t you think?”

  “So I need to go back to school for you to be proud of me?”

  “Don’t be silly, Giles,” she panted as his movements quickened. “You’re going to adore me and raise my child. I couldn’t be more proud of you. I think it’s something you need to do for you to be proud of you.” She leaned down to kiss his eyes closed, then whispered, “I’ll wear a Catholic schoolgirl uniform when I tutor you.”

  He kept his eyes shut as her nails bit into his shoulders, groaning as he pictured her voluptuous curves in one of those prim white shirts and tiny pleated skirts, her fiery pigtails bouncing. Kneesocks and patent-leather shoes. Add a swollen belly, heavy with child.

  Brigit’s fingers threaded through his hair, twisting as her pleasure mounted. Wild for him, crazed by her desire.

  Abruptly, he held her still, needing to know.

  Brigit’s eyes opened, glazed by passion, as she looked to him questioningly. “Giles? What’s wrong?”

  “You said you were his mate.”

  “What?”

  “Once your kind mates, they can never desire another. That’s what Jacques told me.” His voiced thickened. “Is all this a lie, then?”

  She slid her hands down to cup his face. “I never mated with Daniel. He wanted to, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him.”

  “I thought mating and bonding were things your kind looked forward to.”

  “It’s like a marriage, only instead of an emotional and legal commitment, it’s a mental link that can’t be broken. Ever. Maybe I never loved Daniel, because the thought of him invading all my private feelings and dreams was not at all appealing.” She gave a wry chuckle. “He didn’t push, because I don’t think he wanted to know me all that intimately, either.”

  “I do,” Giles vowed. “I want to know you, to share everything with you. Do you want those things with me?”

  “I’d give them to you without a second thought.” She brushed his mouth with hers, then smiled against his parted lips. “But maybe it’s better to have a little mystery between us. Considering.”

  “No.” He was smiling, too. “No secrets.”

  “Then consider us mated, Giles St. Clair, and remember, you were the one who wanted the full-disclosure clause.”

  His phone rang. Giles kissed her and fumbled for his cell phone, grinning as Brigit hugged him and began to nibble across the backs of his shoulders. “Detective,” he said with a contented sigh, sinking back into the gurgling water with the lovely Shape-shifter tucked against his side. “How are you this very fine day?”

  There was a pause before Charlotte asked, “Giles? Have you been drinking?”

  “Intoxicated, yes. Drinking, no. How can I help you? Any news?”

  “Yes. Finally.”

  He sat up, his attention sharpening. “What’s happened?”

  “Father Furness came to see Max. He knows who Genevieve Savorie is. Apparently, she’s Max’s mother’s sister. She works with the Chosen.”

  “His aunt tried to wipe his memories? Does he know how we can find her?”

  “He’s looking into it. Giles, I may have to go back to Chicago. Would you go with me?”

  He hesitated, and the fact that h
e did surprised him. Shocked him, actually. But he said the expected “Of course.”

  His reluctance must have been obvious to the detective, for she was quick to demand, “What’s going on with you, Giles?”

  “You know Silas’s sister, Brigit?”

  “We met briefly. Isn’t she a bit of a bitch?”

  Giles grinned. “That she is. I like that in a woman. That’s why I like you.” His voice deepened. “That’s why I’m spending the rest of my life with her. She’s having a baby.”

  “Whoa! What? Giles, you’ve known her what? Less than two weeks?”

  “I’m getting old. I don’t have time to waste.”

  “A baby? Is there something in the water around here that we’ve got an epidemic of expectant women?”

  “Preschools and ice cream shops will be doing a booming business, I suspect.”

  “Giles, we need to talk. Seriously.”

  “I am serious. And you know what else? I’m going to finish my degree. Business law. Then I can finally do something a little more constructive than breaking kneecaps.”

  Now that the idea had taken root, he was pretty happy with it. He’d always liked learning, was good at studying. He could help both Max and his family and be a respectable husband and father. Husband, he mused. Yes, he liked that idea just fine, too.

  But Charlotte Caissie was having a bit more trouble with it. “A Shape-shifter lover, a child, going back to school. Where are you? Giles,” she demanded sternly, “are you doing illegal substances?”

  He gave a hearty laugh. “No, Detective. I’m in Memphis.” He glanced over at the big bed with its inviting tangle of covers, then to the woman cuddled to his side. “I’ll be spending the night. Could you have Nica keep an eye on my cousin? I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. I’ve got some business to finalize with the head of the Guedry family.”

  “What?” she sputtered.

  “Calm yourself, Charlotte. Everything’s fine. We’ll have lots to discuss when I get back.”

  Another pause, then she said gently, “I’m over at the house. Tina and Oscar are here. They’re packing their things to move back home with Alain. Apparently, the time-out did some good.”

  The deep stab of loss he would have expected to feel was missing, deflected by the woman at his side and the child she carried. “Good,” he told her. “That’s good. It’s where they should be. Tell Tina her half sister and I will be over for dinner. And tell the boy . . . tell him he knows where to find me.”

  “It was the dress,” Brigit whispered into his ear.

  “Brigit MacCreedy,” Charlotte mused aloud. “Does Silas know about this?”

  “We have his blessing.” Giles would be sure to get it as soon as his new partner returned from Nevada. He was sure they’d have plenty to talk about, too.

  Brigit had begun pressing small kisses to his chest, working her way up to his neck. Her hand rubbed over his thigh, circling closer and closer to “time to get the hell off the phone.”

  “Charlotte, unless there’s something else, I’m sitting in a Jacuzzi with a very desirable female, and I’d like to get back to what we were doing before we were interrupted.”

  “Forgive me,” Charlotte drawled, amusement in her voice.

  “No worries. I’ve got a long, demanding night ahead of me, so the breather was appreciated. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  A snort. “TMI, Giles. Enjoy your evening. See you tomorrow.”

  “That you will.”

  Even before he’d set the phone aside, Brigit had resumed her position on his lap with her hands locked behind his neck.

  “So,” she purred. “What do you want to do? Watch some TV? Order room service?”

  “I seem to recall you were busy servicing me already. Let’s get back to that.” He repositioned her until he was hard and full inside her. “There now. That’s better.”

  She pursed those ripe, pouty lips and warned, “Enjoy it now. Soon I’ll be fat as a cow, and you won’t even want to look at me.”

  “Never.” He stroked her soft cheek with his fingertips. “You’re my goddess. I’ll never get tired of looking at you. In fact, I know this place on Bourbon Street that sells the most tastelessly sexy maternity lingerie—”

  She kissed him with a fierceness that stole his breath away, then whispered, “You are a good man, Giles St. Clair. The right man. I love you.”

  She was flushed from the heat of the tub, with tendrils of her bright hair curling damply against her face and neck. Her dark eyes smoldered with the truth of her claim.

  Giles smiled.

  He was going to enjoy more than the evening. He was going to enjoy the rest of his life so much.

  KEEP READING FOR AN EXCITING SNEAK PEEK AT THE NEXT IRRESISTIBLE NOVEL IN NANCY GIDEON’S SHADOWS SERIES

  Prince of Shadows

  AVAILABLE MAY 2013 FROM POCKET STAR

  Prologue

  Excitement and pride added a strut to Cale’s step as he followed his father, their clan’s leader. Bram’s summons had come as a surprise, and Cale was eager to prove himself as the future heir of the House of Terriot.

  He hadn’t expected the chance for redemption to come so soon, only two days after his punishment. It was still hard to move, but he schooled his features to reveal no pain as he’d been taught, and asked no questions though curiosity bubbled through him. Whatever the task, he would be up to it.

  The night air was crisp and sharp with the scent of pines as they followed the winding path down from the main lodge of their Lake Tahoe compound to the cluster of family cottages. Cale was very aware of the head of his father’s security team close behind him. He only knew the intimidating man by his nickname, Bull, which was earned not only for his bulky mastiff-like build but also his skill in bringing down whatever he went after. Bull wasn’t called upon unless the situation demanded it.

  When Cale saw their destination, his pace faltered. Bull’s palm flattened between his shoulder blades, delivering a firm push to get him moving again.

  The bungalow housed his father’s close friend and personal advisor, Dean Terriot, along with his mate and daughter. But Dean was in Las Vegas on business. So what business could they possibly have here in his absence, in the middle of the night?

  Bram climbed up onto the porch, with its inviting Adirondack chairs, planter boxes, and tinkling wind chimes. He pounded on the door and, after a minute had passed, told Bull, “Break it down.”

  Cale stood frozen as Bull kicked the door open with one massive booted foot. After his father had gone through the shattered opening, the formidable man called, “Get up here, boy. Move.”

  At first glance, the home appeared empty. Cale hoped it was. His heart hammered against his bruised ribs and a cold, sick certainty began to rise.

  This was about him. About what he’d done.

  The protest stammered out before he could wisely catch it. “My king, please—”

  His father’s words struck like a blow. “Be silent.”

  Cale stood motionless, as if he could become cold, unfeeling stone.

  “Stand by the door. Don’t move from there unless you see someone coming.”

  As he took up his post, a rigid sentinel, his father followed Bull down a side hallway.

  Cale flinched at the sound of another door giving way.

  Be like stone.

  He stared out into the night, down the dark, quiet drive, eyes wide and unblinking, his breath coming in short, tight bursts. He heard raised voices, his father’s and a female’s, but couldn’t make out their words. He cringed at the first shriek; swayed when the second was abruptly cut short. Then he couldn’t hear anything over the thundering in his ears.

  This was his fault. He’d never considered anything beyond personal consequences. This was all because of him.

  Then a deeper, more terrifying whisper.

  It could have been my momma.

  He didn’t know how much time passed. He’d gone numb. Then Bull was gripping his arm, jer
king him around to growl, “Your father wants you.”

  Cale edged down the hall toward the light at the end, his knees stiff to stop their trembling. It was so quiet.

  Bram met him at the bedroom’s broken doorframe. He restored order to his hair with a fastidious rake of his fingers, giving his son a smugly satisfied look that chilled Cale to the bone.

  “Go inside, boy, and take a look at what it means to rule.”

  After Bram left with that command, it took every scrap of Cale’s courage to step across that threshold into what it would mean to be a Terriot male.

  A photograph of an angelic blonde girl sat on the night table. Her sweet smile clutched at his racing emotions. He managed a raw swallow and forced his gaze to travel from the twisted bedcovers to the body lying on the floor.

  His stinging eyes took in the deep scratches on the naked woman, the hideous bite marks, and the blood. All the blood.

  Had he . . . killed her?

  And then the slender hand twitched.

  Paralysis broken, Cale tore the tangled covers off the bed and knelt to bundle them about the savaged form. Shock and horror made his teeth clatter. He couldn’t think of what else to do, of who to call.

  “Cale!”

  He leaped to his feet, shaking.

  As his wild stare flashed across the louvered closet on the opposite wall, he saw wide, dark eyes peering at him through the slats close to the floor.

  “Cale, now!”

  He bolted.

  As he sucked in a huge gulp of air to keep down the bile in his throat, he vowed that no one he loved would ever, ever, suffer because of him again.

  One

  “One suitcase. Five minutes,” a male growled.

  “It takes me longer than that to put on my makeup. Let me go. I’m capable of walking,” a female bitched back.

  “You’re capable of a lot of things, and I don’t trust any of them.”

  Exiting the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Kendra Terriot froze at the sound of angry voices coming from the hall. Her cousin Brigit and . . . Cale? She had just enough time to grab her robe and whip it around her wet body before her apartment door opened.

  Brigit MacCreedy stumbled on her impossibly high heels as she was propelled roughly inside. She thrust back a tumble of bright red hair to fix a skewering glare on the figure in the doorway. “If I was forced to accept you as a mate, I’d fight you to the death.”