Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  She wanted a repeat of that night.

  Fat chance of that, with me, with him.

  She fought a grimace as she said, “I’ll do it. Dinner.”

  A smile curved his full lips, transforming his face from that of a no-nonsense soldier to that of a bedroom-eyed god.

  “Mr. Romanoff.” What was she supposed to call him? That seemed too formal for someone who’d seen her naked once, long ago, when she was another woman—a very different woman.

  I’ve seen so much. Been through so much.

  “Malachi,” she corrected herself.

  “Ky.” He smiled. “My friends and family call me Ky.”

  “I need to get back to the hearing. The judges have to deliberate.”

  Chapter 7

  Somehow, Laken managed to keep her eyes off of Ky Romanoff, concentrating on everyone except for the sexy shifter when she reentered the room after he did.

  No sooner had she sat down than her phone buzzed. She chanced a quick glance.

  Cadence’s text read: If you can’t go to the beach, we’ll bring the beach to you.

  And there was a picture of Cadence and Carina on the beach in Cozumel, fruity frozen drinks in hand. The drinks were garnished with colorful umbrellas, and her sisters’ faces were garnished with half-drunk grins. She bit back the sigh of frustration she wanted to give in to.

  She tore her mind away from Cozumel and back to the present.

  David Partlay, looking uber-professional in his dark suit and dark-blue tie, rose and pressed a button that rang a bell. He cleared his throat, and the room silenced. “It’s time for the judges to deliberate on the case.”

  The three of them filed out of the room and into a private room that was soundproofed against supernatural shifter hearing.

  Once they’d dropped into their chairs, Benedict Morris called for them to take a few minutes to review their notes and reflect.

  Laken looked through her papers. She didn’t have much experience with SSC hearings; this was the first she’d ever attended.

  These people are putting their future in my hands.

  She’d listened objectively and had tried to weigh out the facts. Fedor Kozlov kept saying that Tanner Navarro had killed his son, but there was no proof of that, and Vey Kozlov’s death wasn’t part of the case, anyway. The hearing had been established for the purpose of determining custodial rights. There seemed to be no doubt that the little shifter called Dominic was Marti’s son as well as Kozlov’s grandson. That wasn’t in dispute.

  The dispute was that Fedor Kozlov wanted full custody of his grandson when Dominic had a mother who was more than competent and loving.

  Fedor Kozlov claimed his son had gone to Bear Canyon Valley. Credit card charges substantiated that claim, but the investigators Kozlov had sent there had been able to find no one who had witnessed Vey’s presence there.

  The SSC couldn’t charge Tanner Navarro with an unsubstantiated crime; they didn’t operate that way. So Fedor Kozlov’s assertions of murder had fallen flat.

  Laken had studied Tanner Navarro, and the way he watched Marti and Dominic. His bear glowed amber in the depths of his eyes, and though her panther found his bear honorable, there was something that pricked at Laken’s nerve endings. She believed that Tanner Navarro wouldn’t hesitate to kill to protect his mate and her son.

  And I don’t blame him.

  No, she didn’t blame him, and she envied Marti Lee for having found a good man. A man who would do that for her.

  A small sigh escaped from her lips and her shoulders slumped forward. She and the rest of the judges would have to vote on these people’s futures. As cantankerous as she found the old man to be, she still felt pity for him. He didn’t know where his son was, and he had no relationship with his grandson.

  Laken looked at Benedict Morris and Dale Carver. Benedict was older; perhaps he had experience in cases like this.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I’m a father,” Benedict said. “And a grandfather. I can’t imagine not seeing my grandkids.”

  “There’s no reason to take that child away from his mother, but maybe we could arrange for visitation?” Dale asked.

  “Mr. Kozlov wasn’t willing to negotiate terms of that nature. He said it was all or nothing,” Benedict reminded him.

  Laken shook her head. “I can’t see myself agreeing to that.”

  “I can’t see myself agreeing to a grandfather never seeing his grandchild.” Benedict closed the file in front of him.

  That was how the day was spent. The three of them in one room, lunch delivered at the halfway point, until six o’clock rolled around.

  There was no majority decision.

  One for.

  One against.

  One undecided.

  David Partlay poked his head in. They gave him the bad news.

  “We’ll meet in the morning. Eight o’clock. I hope we have resolution by then. Please spend the evening thinking about the matter.” He left the room.

  “Let’s not drag this hearing out any more.” Dale frowned as he followed David out the door. “I don’t want to spend my holidays locked up with you two trying to sort this out.” He laughed, a sheepish grin on his face. “Nothing personal.”

  Yeah, as if this is how I want to spend my Cozumel vacation.

  Her mind went back to Ky. Had he talked to David Partlay? David hadn’t acted odd, but still…

  Chapter 8

  Ky and the rest of the involved parties had been dismissed. The judges had no decision yet, so they’d all have to return in the morning.

  So much for simple.

  David threw an apologetic look his way.

  Not that it mattered much to Ky; this was what he got paid for. Except that it added to the time he’d have to wait to have dinner with Laken.

  He returned to his place and stripped, then pulled a t-shirt over his head.

  The doorbell rang.

  Just when he was relishing a night alone, a night without the push-and-pull of the hearing. He wanted to revisit his time with Laken. Something seemed so different about her now. He also felt bad about asking her to dinner like that—as if he were exhorting her to have dinner in exchange for his silence. He needed to talk to her. He couldn’t have her thinking he was like that.

  The doorbell chimed again.

  “Alright, alright.” Fuck. Enough already. I’m coming. He opened the door. “Isaac. Where’ve you been?”

  The dark circles were still under Isaac’s eyes. His face looked gaunt, cheekbones still prominent. “The case.”

  Ky knew; he could tell. The cat burglar case. “Any progress?”

  “Nah. How’s your hearing going?”

  “Same as every other hearing.” Except the part about seeing Laken.

  Isaac looked at the table behind Ky. “Had dinner yet? Want some steak?”

  “Sure. Let’s go, but it can’t be a late night.”

  “It won’t be. It’s being delivered in fifteen minutes,” Isaac said.

  “Sly bastard.” He handed Isaac a bottle of beer. They made their way to the balcony and looked over the railing. Ky took a long swig, then set the bottle down on the table. “Remember that New Year’s Eve party the night before I shipped out?”

  Isaac cocked his head. “Yeah, that was a long time ago.”

  Ky wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Isaac about Laken. He wanted to savor that secret himself. Then again, he and Isaac rarely kept things from each other.

  “Keep talking,” Isaac prompted.

  “Man, I see how you got your detective’s badge,” Ky ribbed. “I met a girl that night.”

  “Yeah, I remember. You bailed on us. Dark-haired, cute, curvy thing. What about her?”

  Why do I feel like I’m in grade school again?

  “I saw her again recently. Asked her out.”

  More like I blackmailed her into having dinner with me or I’d expose the secret about our one night together that she seems so eager to k
eep under wraps.

  Now that he thought of it, he felt like a damned creep. Maybe he’d be better off backing out.

  “And?”

  Ky shook his head. “I don’t know. Never mind. Seems pretty dumb, in retrospect.”

  The doorbell chimed.

  “Dinner,” Isaac said and headed for the door. As he opened it, he turned back and looked at Ky, an expression on his face that Ky couldn’t peg.

  “Not dinner,” Isaac said, and opened the door wider.

  Laken.

  Damn.

  Chapter 9

  Laken stood in the doorway. A man who looked a whole lot like Ky was blocking her way. Boy, was he ever. He was as wide-shouldered as Ky, every bit as broad-chested, and he might even be an inch or two taller. He stared at her. His expression was even more unapproachable than Ky’s usual don’t-fuck-with-me look.

  The man didn’t say a word, so she did. “Hi.”

  “I know you,” he said.

  Laken flinched. Did he know that she was one of the judges? “Do you?” She kept her voice cool.

  “Yeah, you were at that party. A few years back.” He stepped aside. “The night before he shipped out.” The man gestured behind him with his thumb. “I’m Isaac. His brother.”

  Laken glanced toward the direction he’d pointed and saw Ky come into view.

  “She’s the one, right?” Isaac said to Ky.

  Laken felt a slow heat raging in her chest, rising to her neck then lighting her face on fire. He knew her from the night she’d had her one-night stand with Ky.

  Does he also know what happened that night?

  Ky stepped between them. “Laken, this is my brother Isaac.”

  “Already told her that,” Isaac said.

  “He’s got a problem with his mouth. He keeps shoving his foot in it.” Ky gave his brother a dirty look. “He was just leaving.”

  “But—” Isaac started, then nodded after receiving a pointed look from Ky. He slipped around them, then out the door and down the staircase, not even waiting for the elevator.

  “How’d you know where I live?” Ky cocked his head, a smile playing on his lips that made him so very irresistible and reminded Laken of that night.

  “I needed to talk to you.”

  “Good. I’ve been wanting to talk to you too.” He took a step closer.

  Laken backed up until the doorjamb was pressed against her spine. “I wanted to talk to you about the dinner, the hearing… keeping it a secret… all that.” She really needed to find out what he planned to tell David Partlay.

  “Go on.” Ky pursed his lips, his brows drawing down in a vee.

  “About that dinner. I can’t have anyone thinking I’m not objective. I have to be impartial.”

  “Of course.” He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her in, closing the door behind her. “After the case is resolved, then—”

  Laken crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not looking for complications in my life.”

  “I’m not offering a complication.”

  You’re a walking, talking, sexy complication.

  She drew in a deep breath, ready to tell him that his very presence complicated her life and confused her thinking and made her body feel things she hadn’t felt since the last time she’d seen him—

  The doorbell rang.

  Panic struck. She stumbled away from him and around the corner of the breakfast bar, seeking cover, just in case. Who the hell could it be? What if it was the old polar bear shifter he was representing?

  He opened the door and spoke to someone there, reached into his pocket, took out some cash and handed it over, then closed the door with a takeout bag in his hands.

  “Steak?” He placed the bag on the counter and unpacked the contents. Two steaks. Two baked potatoes. “Interested?”

  “Two of them?” Her stomach grumbled at the aroma rising from the tin platters. “Oh, no. One of those was for your brother!”

  “You’re prettier. No contest.”

  The uncontrolled desire in his eyes made heat rise to her face and then drop into her midsection.

  “Medium-rare good?” He took steak knives from a wood block.

  I can’t stay for dinner. What is he thinking? “Perfect.” What am I thinking?

  Ky grabbed a couple of plates from a cupboard and reached for a baked potato. He picked the steaming, foil-wrapped vegetable up and dropped it quickly.

  “Damn.” He stuck the burnt finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

  A dozen dirty images flew through Laken’s mind, all of them from that one night, involving the things he’d done with his fingers. A blush began its inevitable rise, heating her chest and neck, making its way to her face, where it would be a dead giveaway that he was affecting her.

  Laken took a few steps toward the balcony door, looking at the view to keep him from seeing what he’d done to her. The rustling of his unpacking and setting the table came from behind her.

  “What do you like on your baked potato?”

  You. She took a deep breath and turned his way, hoping the red had regressed. “The usual. Butter, sour cream.”

  “Grab a seat.” He held a chair out for her at the breakfast bar instead of the dinner table. A part of her was relieved that they’d be eating in the more casual area, until she realized that the bar was so small, they’d be forced to sit very close to each other.

  Great. Just what my libido doesn’t need. She took her spot and pulled the stool up to the bar.

  “So, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

  Ky took a bite of steak. The way he bit into the pink flesh made a slow quiver run through Laken’s body. She studied her baked potato, stabbed it with her fork, and pushed it around, almost stirring it. Surely he couldn’t make eating a baked potato look sexy?

  Injured by a land mine, lost a leg. Lost a boyfriend—okay, not much of a boyfriend, to be honest. Working for an organization that helps wartime victims—especially ones hurt by land mines.

  “Not much.” She looked up at him.

  He was still, his blue gaze focused on her face. In the depths of his eyes, a golden glow flamed.

  Her panther roared in Laken’s head. She ignored her. “What have you been up to?”

  He cocked his head, as if he was thinking what to say. Then he nodded. “I left for the Middle East the day after you… after I… after we…”

  That was the last thing she needed him to say out loud. She didn’t need that night, that one and only charmed night, to be brought up and talked about. She didn’t want the magic to dissipate the same way that everything else in her life had. “Why’d you come back?”

  He paused, the hand holding his fork hesitating midway to his lips. “Disillusioned.” He set the fork down. “A friend of mine killed an officer for making a bad call that got most of the unit killed. Including my good friend’s brother.”

  Laken didn’t know what to say to that. She’d seen more than her share of death in Africa. “You left, and now this? With the Shifter Supreme Court?”

  “Yes, and you? No mate? No baby shifters running around?”

  “No.”

  He leaned his barstool forward, balancing it on two legs, bringing that big body of his closer, eclipsing her view of anything but him. A low growl came from deep within his chest and sent a barrage of chills throughout her body. Her breath caught in her throat as his face approached. She closed her eyes, yielding to the emotions surging within her. Desire pumped through her veins, forcing parts of her to swell with the divine torture of being absent from pleasure for way too long.

  “Really? No mate?” He released the words in a whisper, his breath warm and all male, caressing her face.

  “No.” The word was a wisp in the air, torn from her oxygen-deprived lungs.

  His lips alit on hers, claiming her mouth. Her lips parted to his demands, and his tongue explored her mouth as if it were a new territory to seize. His eyes were glowing a white-gold flame
. His bear and his lust were battling within him and Laken knew exactly what he was going through. Her own panther struggled to govern and override Laken’s self-control.

  “I want you,” he growled against her flesh. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back. His teeth raked the flesh of her neck, sending pinpricks of longing coursing throughout her body.

  A large bulge jutted against her thigh. He took her by the hips and rocked her against his hardness. Dropping his head, he gave her neck a long, hungry lick.

  She pulled away, wanting more than anything to give in.

  “I let you go once,” he snarled. “Never again.”

  “We have a job. We have… We can’t complicate things.”

  “Does this feel complicated?” His tongue lapped at the hollow in her neck as his fingers traveled to the zipper of her pants and released it.

  It feels like heaven. It feels like everything right.

  She put her hand over his but couldn’t bring herself to stop him, even though it meant he’d know. “It feels very complicated.”

  “Your scent says you like this kind of complicated.” The words came from deep within his wide chest, a gravelly growl sent by his bear.

  Ky’s fingertips alit on her mound, then moved and tugged on her pants, pulling them down, over her prosthetic leg.

  Chapter 10

  Ky froze, his lungs full of the scent of her desire.

  Her leg.

  It was missing.

  Both thighs were beautiful, full and wonderfully curvy, but one stopped just above the knee, where the leg was replaced with a prosthetic.

  Why wouldn’t she tell me? He’d asked her what she’d been up to. This didn’t look like ‘not much’.

  She was quiet; it seemed even her breathing had stopped and her pulse had frozen. This woman was the epitome of strength and beauty, and she was watching him for a reaction. But what kind of reaction did she want? The only reaction he’d had was a complete desire to make her his mate and bond with her right now.

  That won’t do.