by T. S. Ryder
He watched as she nodded and smiled. With a shaking hand, he reached up and brushed away a tear on her cheek. She laughed sadly and pressed into his touch, shaking herself, she got to her feet and walked away.
In the moments she was gone, Desmond had to seriously struggle with himself not to fall asleep.
“It’s just a little blood loss,” he scolded himself, gritting his teeth. “What’s the big deal?” But, he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t relieved when his mate returned and began stuffing the stab wound with gauze, as instructed.
“Son of a…” he swore, alertness gripping him as pain at her prodding rocked through him. A cold sweat had broken out on his skin by the time she was through. Things must not have looked so bad, though, because Marceline smiled and laid down beside him on the blood soaked floor, her hand resting against his bandaged chest gently.
“I thought you were the one who was going to take care of me,” she teased softly. Her lips pressed lovingly against his side before he could answer, and he sighed, knowing she meant the words to help him feel better.
Ramson was dead. His pack would scramble to find a new alpha that, hopefully, wasn’t as corrupt by lust as Ramson had. There was nothing left to worry about, except—
“Marceline?” Desmond whispered softly, his voice hesitant as he forced himself upwards just enough to look at her properly.
“Desmond what—“
“I want to meet Therese,” he told her, “Soon.”
Marceline stared at him with a stunned expression on her face. Her dark eyes were puzzled, scared and excited all in the same instant. For a moment, he worried that her concern about him taking their daughter away from her still haunted her, but then her face softened, and a rock fell off Desmond’s chest. “I’ll call Auntie May tomorrow, see if she can bring Therese,” she told him gently.
She began to settle at his side again when he called for her again.
“Marceline?”
“Yes, Desmond?” she asked, no doubt expecting another glimpse into the soft heart of him, the one that he saved just for her... and, now, their child.
“Will you marry me?”
Whatever she was expecting to hear, the look on her face told him that was not it. Her mouth gapped open, and she clearly didn’t know what to say. As she closed it slowly, still silent, he began to fear she would reject him, but then she curled ever closer and rested her head just below the wound she’d taken care to bandage.
“Of course…” she whispered, tears in her eyes once again and a smile on her lips. “Of course I’ll marry you, Desmond.”
He smiled and laid his head back down with a sigh, eyes slipping closed. “Good,” he whispered, finally allowing himself to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer.
“I’m never letting you get away from me again.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, kissing over his heart.
“I promise.”
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 5: The Shifting Billionaire's Baby
Description
A curvy BBW investigating a murder PLUS a hot billionaire business tycoon leading his pack PLUS a dangerous killer on the loose!
Roland Davis is no ordinary man. He's a werewolf and Alpha of his pack. As such, Roland has duties, and taking a mate and producing an heir to lead the werewolves after him are chief among them.
The problem is that there is only one female werewolf left in his pack, and though they’ve been trying for a baby, they haven’t succeeded yet. When she turns up murdered, Roland can't help but feel that he has lost his chance to protect his pack.
Until he meets curvy detective Claire Doyle...
Solving murders is Claire's specialty. Despite what her best friend thinks, she doesn't need anything else in her life. She's not looking for a man, not even a hunky billionaire like Roland.
But as something draws her closer and closer to him, she finds that what she doesn't want might be exactly what she needs.
When a one night stand has unintended consequences, Roland and Claire have to find a way to cope with dark secrets and an uncertain future. But is love really in the cards for them?
Chapter One
Roland could still smell Melissa's blood, even though the police had covered her with a sheet. He stood on the opposite side of the room, watching them work with narrowed eyes. He wanted to stride over to them and demand answers, but this situation was not one where he could intimidate others into submission. They didn't know any more than he did at the moment.
Melissa was dead in his bed. Murdered.
As cameras flashed, taking pictures of the blood stains and possible footprints, Roland's hands clenched. Melissa had been a sweet, kind woman. A little too submissive for his personal preferences, but she didn't deserve this. When he learned who killed her, he would kill them. She was a member of his pack, and he was meant to protect her. Failing that, he would have revenge.
The head of security and his second-in-command, Adam, shifted closer to him. "You know they're going to ask for security footage. Last night—"
"I'm aware," Roland interrupted. Like Adam, he kept his voice too low for the police to hear. "They will no doubt find it suspicious that we turned off the security cameras."
The cameras had just been turned back on when Melissa's body was found. Roland had been the one to find her, laying in his bed, a knife still in her chest. He ground his teeth together. Apparently she was ready to try to get pregnant again. She had told him more than once that she wanted to be a mother. It was why she had agreed to try with him in the first place. Now she never would have the chance.
Roland and Adam were the only two born werewolves left in the pack. As Alpha, Roland kept his kind when the full moon rose and transformed his pack into bloodthirsty monsters. Adam, his Beta, had better control over himself than the others, but even he could not fully resist the full moon. Roland needed to take a mate that could bear him children. He needed an heir who would eventually take his place as Alpha, protecting the pack and keeping them in line during the three nights that their wolves took over.
Melissa had been the only female in the pack, the last since Roland's mother passed. Roland didn't love Melissa and she hadn't loved him. They never felt the connection of being mates, even when they were in bed together. They both knew their duty, though, and had been trying to produce young for the past year.
After three miscarriages, Melissa had decided that she didn't want to take the heartbreak anymore. They had agreed to take a break until she was strong enough to face the possibility of losing more babies. Roland hadn't thought that would ever happen. In truth, he wasn't sure how much more heartbreak he could take, and if Melissa had been in his room to start trying again, he didn't know if he would have wanted to try.
"How are you going to find a mate now she's gone?" Adam muttered under his breath.
Roland tensed.
"You know that you need to have an heir soon. The pack is getting restless during the moon. Unless you have young soon, I'm afraid they're going to start challenging you. Especially Brian."
"I understand your concerns, Adam." Roland worked hard to keep his voice level. The Beta was only expressing his concerns, after all. "But Melissa's body is still in my bed. Show some respect."
Adam bowed his head. "I didn't mean—"
"I know. Just keep it to yourself." Roland blew out a deep breath, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
The faint scent of chocolate cupcakes had his head turning. As he turned, a woman strode past, completely ignoring him. His eyes zoned in on her as she went directly to the body. She walked with all the self-confidence of a queen, although she was dressed in a fitted business suit and sensible flats. Her short hair was perfectly curled, and she carried a large, black bag over her shoulder.
"Detective Doyle." The cop who had told Roland to stand outside the room, then permitted him to stand by and watch when Roland had refused to leave, nodded in greeting to the new
woman. She nodded at him in return.
"What do we have here?"
Roland couldn't stop his eyes from widening. Her voice was rich and slightly husky for a woman, although all the more attractive for it. His eyes traced her body. She was all mouth-watering curves, soft and plump and oh so succulent. The pencil skirt she wore hugged her ass, and he couldn't help but imagine what the curves of the twin globes would be like if she was naked. His mouth watered.
A sharp jab from Adam's elbow brought him back to the present. Roland glared at his Beta, who ducked his head in apology. The Alpha shook his head–as he had just told Adam, Melissa's body was still laying in his bed. This was the worst time for him to be checking out another woman!
Even one as delicious as Detective Doyle.
The detective was being briefed on the circumstances of how Melissa was found, and she glanced over her shoulder at Roland. She had a kind, open face, and the biggest, brownest eyes he had even seen. They matched her chocolate scent perfectly. Her skin was milky-white.
Melissa had been Hollywood-pretty. Stick-thin, with cute, bite-sized breasts and a flat, tight ass. Roland had enjoyed being with her, but he had never felt the thick lust towards her that was pooling in his belly when Detective Doyle met his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to breathe through his mouth so that he couldn't smell her. Chocolate was his favorite food.
She turned away again, and Roland shifted, reminding himself of the setting. He'd had serious attractions to human women before, and they always ended the same way. Badly. It wasn't like he could just tell them that he was a werewolf and needed to have babies as soon as possible. That was enough to scare off even the most starry-eyed woman.
He wasn't going to let his attraction to this new woman overcome his good senses. He didn't even know her, and Melissa deserved better than to be forgotten so quickly.
Adam leaned in, muttering under his breath. "Those legs weren't meant for pantyhose. She looks like a stuffed sausage."
Roland's eyes immediately went to the detective's calves. They were thicker than many women's, but there were smooth, taut muscles under her delicious skin. The Alpha growled despite himself, hackles rising at Adam's insult of the beautiful detective.
"The only thing that could possibly improve that woman is if she were naked and under me," he hissed at the Beta.
Adam's eyes widened. Roland glared at him, and the smirk that spread over the Beta's face only made him angrier.
Adam opened his mouth.
"Don't," Roland warned.
The Beta snorted, hastily covering it with a cough as the detectives turned in their direction. Roland ground his teeth together, clenching his fists. With the full moon so recent, his wolf was strong in his blood, and it was urging him to punch Adam in the face and remind him his place in the pack. Roland did not endorse physical violence when it wasn't necessary, however. Even if he did, hitting his head of security when a half-dozen police were staring at him was not the best idea.
Detective Doyle's chocolate-colored eyes were on him again, so he turned and marched from the room. It was the moon that was making him respond so strongly to her. That was the only reason he was getting so distracted by her when Melissa had just been murdered! He needed to remember that.
"Hey, I didn't mean it," Adam said, once they were out of the room.
"Didn't mean what, exactly? Your rude comment or laughing at me?" Roland's eyes narrowed in warning.
"What I said about the detective. I just thought that you needed something to lighten the mood. I didn't realize you were attracted."
Roland turned to him, then stiffened when he saw the detective had followed them out. Her expression was completely neutral, and he didn't know if she had heard what Adam had just said or not. Still, he sent a warning glance at his Beta and stepped up to the detective, offering her his hand.
"I'm Detective Claire Doyle," she said. Her rich voice had the slightest southern twang to it. "You must be Roland Davis."
Roland nodded. "I was Miss Clarkson's employer. And this is my head of security, Adam Buchan."
Claire spared a brief glance at Adam before focusing on Roland. "Do you have any idea why Miss Clarkson would be in your bed?"
"We occasionally had sex," Roland replied, trying to make his voice as bored at it could be.
The detective gave no physical response to his statement, keeping her gaze steady on him. "So you two were in a relationship, then?"
"A sexual relationship. We didn't have a romantic relationship."
Roland couldn't stop a note of sadness from escaping. He liked Melissa, he really did, and more than once had wished he could love her. It might just be a silly tradition, but his father, also werewolf-born, had always said that pregnancy took better between mates. But when it came to wolves, love was necessary for a true mating to happen. It was something that happened when they met, and solidified when they had sex for the first time. His father had described it like a holy sacrament.
Roland didn't know much about that. Both of his parents had been religious, but he never saw the purpose of it. He knew that he was cursed to become a devil every full moon, just barely able to keep his pack together to stop them from slaughtering innocents. He didn't need religion to tell him he was going to hell as well. Perhaps that was why he never really believed in love at first sight.
"And she didn't have any feelings for you?" Claire raised one eyebrow.
Roland shook his head. Sometimes, when they were lying in bed together, Melissa would tell him about her dreams of falling in love. He was sorry that he was never able to give that to her. She had deserved a full, happy life. Not the multiple miscarriages she endured. And then to die like this… It was horrible.
"I see." Claire turned to Adam. "And Mr. Buchan, is it?"
The Beta nodded.
Claire cocked her head to one side as she studied him. "What was your relationship with the deceased?"
"Friendly. We hung out sometimes, but there was nothing between us. She wasn't my type."
Adam gave Claire an easy grin, the one that made it possible for him to seduce nearly every reporter, both male and female, who came snooping around Roland's mansion or office buildings, looking for a story. Roland frowned at him, but Detective Doyle's answering smile was anything but flirtatious. All business. He liked that.
"Where were the two of you between 6:00 and 8:00 this morning?"
6:00 to 8:00. So that was the time of death? Roland hadn't found Melissa until noon. At 6:00, the full moon would have just been wearing off. He forced himself not to react, but what if Melissa had still been half-wolf, and interrupted a burglar or something? Their secret could be out.
"6:00 to 8:00?" Adam scrunched up his forehead. "We were still cleaning up from the party downstairs. Hell of a thing."
Claire cast a glance around the hallway. "This rich and you have to clean up your own messes, Mr. Davis?"
"I like to pitch in once in a while. Keeps me grounded."
Claire smiled a pretty smile at him, causing his heart to skip a beat. "I see. Well, if there's anything you can think of that can help us, here's my card. Give me a call."
"I will."
She turned back to the bedroom, and Roland let out a pent-up breath as she left. Now there was a real woman. Who might suspect him of murder. He needed to remember that and keep his head about him. The Alpha turned and walked away.
This was one situation in which he needed to keep his distance and not go for what he wanted… a taste of chocolate cupcakes.
Chapter Two
"Package for Detective Doyle."
Claire glanced up from her desk, where she was going over crime scene photos from the Melissa Clarkson case. Her muscles pinched between her shoulder blades, and there was an ache behind her eyes that she hadn't noticed as she studied the pictures. One of the two detectives she worked homicide with, Catherine Grace, stood just beside her desk, a knowing smirk on her lips.
"You know, as observ
ant as you are, you really don't notice things when you're focused," Grace said, plopping a neatly-wrapped package onto Claire's desk.
Claire shot her the dirtiest look she could muster. "Thanks."
"Well?" Grace pointed at the box. "It's from that sexy billionaire. Aren't you going to open it?"
Claire bit back a moan. It was strictly against precinct policy to accept gifts from anybody connected to ongoing investigations. She pushed the package off her crime scene photo. As much as she wanted to know what it was Roland was sending her, it would be best to send it back unopened. Grace could see the thoughts going through Claire's head and rolled her eyes.
"Come on, one peek won't hurt. His alibi has proven solid. It's not like he's our murderer."
"I know that. And I don't think that he's a part of it, but until we find out the who and why of this murder, you know the rules. I can't accept any gifts from him."
Grace sighed heavily. "You need to live a little, Claire. There're no rules against opening the gifts, just keeping them. If you don't open it, I will."
Claire bit her lip. She thought about Roland Davis and the way he had looked at her, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. It had been extremely difficult to keep from drooling and dropping her panties when she first laid eyes on him. He had everything going for him. Muscular, but in that low-key, stronger-than-he-looks kind of way. Strong jaw, clean shaven. Blond hair that was just the perfect length to run her fingers through. The strangest eyes, though. Amber, and they didn't quite look right with his coloring. Maybe he wore contacts.
Grace was still staring at her, so Claire grabbed the package and ripped it open, shaking her head at her own weakness. It was a small jewelry box, and inside was a matching necklace and earring set. Sparkling diamonds were set in a pearly-white metal. White gold maybe. The chain of the necklace looked small and dainty.