Filthy Rich (4 page)

Breathless and panting, he held her tight for a moment, seeming to allow his own surge of adrenaline to subside. She knew he'd seen her almost plunge into danger, and if he hadn't been right there, she could have been seriously injured, maybe killed. Nartan seemed to know only too well that this beautiful wilderness could turn deadly in a moment.

She lifted her elbow and dropped it on the other side of his hand. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was breaking his hold or just responding to the panic rushing through her.

“You're welcome,” he mocked.

“Thanks.” Her tone was less than gracious.

He studied her for a moment, his eyebrows lowering in contemplation. “You need to deal with that ghost.”

“Actually, that's sort of the idea behind being here.” She opened her hands wide. “A soul-seeking sort of adventure.” She straightened her stance and faced off with him. “I believe the custom is to undertake such journeys alone.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “This is Alaska, not Southern California. Your martial arts skills aren't going to be much use against a bear. Even if you know how to use a gun, you didn't take one with you. I told you to wait because you're green.”

It was a blunt fact that made a lot of sense, but she didn't care for the direct blow to her pride.

“An explanation would have cleared that up,” she said and rolled in her lower lip because she was itching to bicker with him. The urge was almost impossible to ignore, even though she knew it wasn't rational. She wasn't going there, to that place where she lost control of herself and started going after him because she just couldn't quell the urge.

“I enjoyed hiking with you more.” He was testing her. Tossing down a gauntlet to see if she'd reply. “The journey you need to take is one that leads you back to the thing that left a scar on you.”

“You're getting a little too personal.” The words slipped past her lips. The moment she heard them, she shook her head, but he reached across the distance and caught her chin.

She shivered, the contact as jarring as she'd suspected it would be. His skin was warm and smelled enticingly male.

He turned his hand over and stroked the back of his fingers along her jawline. She felt like she was on the edge of bursting into flames, at the point when all the heat was trapped inside her, ready to flare up.

“Really…” She struggled to find the argument she needed to make but got lost in the intensity of his cobalt stare. It was stripping her bare.

She dragged her gaze away and turned back toward the house.

“You really need to stop running.”

She wanted to. The desire was welling up inside her, flooding her.

Terrifying her with just how close she was to letting go of her control.

She couldn't.

Wouldn't, actually.

She just couldn't risk trusting again.

She headed back toward the house instead. For a moment, she thought she heard a soft, male chuckle. She ended up tightening her hands into fists and increasing her pace.

The man had just sent her into a full retreat.

***

Nartan fell into step behind her. He wanted to reach out and drag her to a halt.

He found himself battling the urge as she took to the uneven ground with a strength that turned him on even more. His cock thickened, hardening as he watched the way she moved. He was no stranger to admiring the backside of a woman, but here was something completely different from what he'd been enjoying in feminine companionship. No sleek dress fell over her curves; no delicate ankles were set off by fuck-me stilettos.

There were only slightly baggy warm-up pants, just big enough to need a drawstring to keep them around her trim waist. He caught a glimpse of her firm bottom as she moved, but what triggered another wave of lust in him was the realization that she had selected those pants with function in mind. He didn't doubt for a second that she could get her leg up into a deadly kick. His cock hardened to marble. He lost the battle to let her make her getaway cleanly.

“The ghost wins when you let it control you so well,” he said.

The house was in view, along with the huge all-terrain tank that Tarak drove. Celeste hesitated, flashing him a quick look. She was shaking her head, but he reached out and hooked her elbow. “I bet the prick would love to know that you're running away from what I make you feel.”

She smacked his hand so quickly that she surprised even herself, the sound loud now that the river was not close enough to drown it out. But her lips parted in shock as she stared at the spot she'd struck on his forearm.

“Shit.” She was out of control, exactly the way she'd feared. She turned away from him, the need to escape driving her. “Look…I'm not ready for this. Sorry. It's nothing personal.”

It was a nice, polite way of chickening out.

“You're having the same effect on me.” He spoke clearly from behind her. A jolt of excitement shook her, freezing her in place. Her knees went weak and her nipples drew into hard points as excitement swirled through her thoughts, clouding every rational thing she'd been thinking. “And I find it very personal.”

She whirled around and almost crashed into him. He was right behind her now. Far too close for her unsteady emotions. But losing control wasn't going to be the answer—it never was, never had been.

“I'm not interested in a fling.” She made sure her words were clear and precise and delivered in a smooth tone. “Not with my best friend's husband's best friend. That could get messy.”

Her statement was a perfect execution of what she'd decided she wanted, but looking at him undermined her determination. He was just so damn attractive with his inky black hair and the way he exuded power. Two midnight-black brows lowered as her statement sunk in. Something about his physique, his energy, his whole demeanor was pulling her toward him.

“Liar,” he accused her, with something between a smirk and a determined grin. That glitter of mischief was back in his eyes, making her nipples tighten even more.

She wanted to label him arrogant, but the truth was the truth. He turned her on more than she had ever been before. And he knew it, which only made her hotter because she wanted to know just how sharp his powers of perception were when he was making love.

“I thought you said it was on the to-be-dealt-with list…” His tone was smooth and silky soft.

Suspicion prickled down her spine. She lifted one finger. “Don't.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Don't remind you that you're running, or don't notice how charged the air is between us?”

He surprised her by chuckling. With amusement sparkling in his eyes, he was even more attractive. “Or don't notice how good it felt to touch you?”

Shit.

“I'm really more trouble than you need, Nartan.” It was an admission, one she felt was ripped from that spot inside her soul where she had shoved every last bit of emotional turmoil still clinging to her. “Or deserve,” she interrupted him when he opened his mouth to argue. “You're right. I need to deal with things, and you rescuing me isn't going to accomplish that. I have to take the journey myself.”

Disappointment was raking its claws across her insides, but she dug her feet in and pushed off with every step to widen the space between them. She made her way back into the house and up to the guest room Sabra had given her. Celeste flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as heat teased her clit and need gnawed at her. It had been a long time since she'd actually desired any man in particular. Sexual tension was something she normally satisfied with her vibrator, but she knew today she'd end up nursing an appetite long after climaxing. The need was deeper. More intense. Just like the man who had unleashed it.

It intrigued her beyond anything she could remember, and at the same time, it scared the hell out of her. But what stuck in her throat the most was the way that it challenged her. A challenge was something she just couldn't ignore.

What made her worry her lower lip was the fact that she was practically certain Nartan knew her weakness.

***

Tarak raised an eyebrow when Nartan pushed through the mudroom doors into the house.

“By the look on her face, I think you made a good call in taking the gun.”

Nartan put the gun in the rack by the door and shrugged. “I'd rather use my bare hands on her.”

“Any chance you could wait until after my wedding to get your arm broken?” Sabra asked from across the room.

“She took off without a gun,” Nartan defended himself. “I did her a favor by following.”

Just because he'd enjoyed it, that didn't change the facts.

And he had enjoyed it.

Nartan took a walk out onto the back deck in the cooling evening air to help ease the heat coiled in his gut. He and Celeste had more in common than she realized. He was just as uncomfortable with the level of attraction between them as she was. But he grinned as he contemplated telling her that. He just might do it for the pleasure of seeing her spit at him.

Spitfire.

Maybe it was an outdated word, but somehow it suited Celeste. In fact, he liked the ring of it.

Too much. He didn't need the complication of being involved with a woman beyond casual sex. Really, he didn't. But the look in her eyes haunted him, pulling on his resolve even as he tried to reason out why he needed to remain steadfast in his choices.

Weddings were a bloody pain in the ass, he decided.

The house Tarak Nektosha had built was massive, but Celeste found it crowded. The knowledge that Nartan was there was the same as knowing there was a bear loose in the hallways. Dinner conversation flowed, but she was on edge, fighting to keep her gaze from drifting to Nartan's. It was a draining effort, and she felt wrung out by the time the meal was finished.

And that was a shame. She enjoyed the occasional fine meal because keeping fit required strict dedication to calorie counting. But dinner passed in a haze of tension as she battled her rioting hormones. When the opportunity to escape came, she took it. Sabra was leaning against the kitchen island, her groom-to-be next to her. Celeste selected a bottle of wine from the wine fridge and picked up two glasses.

“If you gentlemen will excuse us.”

Tarak frowned at her. At least her poise didn't desert her in the face of his displeasure. She moved closer and reached out to pull Sabra away from the island.

“Girls' night,” Celeste announced softly.

Sabra laughed and turned to blow her husband-to-be a kiss. “It's a sacred pact. Girls' night.”

His features softened, and he relaxed back against the edge of the island. Celeste moved on, but the look was branded into her mind.

That was love.

Not that she had any personal experience with it, at least not on the receiving end. For a moment she was bitter, feeling the bite of loneliness more keenly than she normally did.

But Sabra's presence helped drive Celeste's memories back into the shadows, and she followed her friend down the long hallway. Just because she didn't have a man in her life didn't mean she didn't have fun.

***

“Don't think I didn't notice.”

Celeste looked up from where she was painting Sabra's toenails. Her lifelong friend had an empty wineglass in her hand and a knowing look on her face. “Nartan is”—Sabra made a small circle with her index finger—“getting to you.”

Celeste finished and sat up. She took a moment to screw the top back onto the nail polish bottle. “Since he has less than twenty-four more hours in my company, it's going to be a moot point very soon.”

Sabra finished off her wine. “He owns Angelino's.”

“I know.” Celeste reached for the wine bottle and poured some into Sabra's glass. “I'm going to have to go into mourning. That was one of my favorite restaurants.”

“Don't be such a chicken.” Sabra picked up her glass. “It's been a long time since—”

“Not long enough,” Celeste fired back quickly. Too quickly. She groaned with defeat. “Point taken.”

Sabra toasted Celeste with her wineglass. “You can bet your ass Caspian isn't moping around. Or at least, he won't be once he gets out of prison.”

Celeste drew in a deep breath and let it out. “He was never faithful anyway.” She took a drink from her own glass but smiled. “I'm over it.”

“Not that over it if you're letting Nartan slip through your fingers,” Sabra persisted.

“I can be over my marriage and not be interested in Nartan.”

“Except for the fact that I saw your face the first time you two met.” Sabra refused to drop the subject. “He rocked your world. Admit it.”

“Not denying it, just making the choice to say no,” Celeste answered smugly. “I have every intention of leaving romance with billionaire playboys all to you. I tried it once, and that was enough for me.”

“Tarak and Nartan weren't born rich.”

Celeste set her wineglass down and opened the nail polish again for a second coat. She was ignoring the topic, and Sabra wasn't playing along.

“You shouldn't give up. Caspian came from a long line of assholes who thought their shit didn't stink. The look on his face when the judge sentenced him was priceless.”

Celeste smiled. “It was. He'd never encountered a situation where his money and connections couldn't buy him out of a mess. Part of it was my fault. By taking his shit, I helped him think every other girl would too.”

“You shouldn't have,” Sabra replied, her tone hardening. “I can't believe you hid it from me.”

Celeste only offered her friend a delicate shrug. “It starts out as pride and only toughens. I didn't want to admit to myself that I'd made such a colossal mistake in marrying Caspian, much less to you or the police.”

“The biggest problem is that since you didn't testify against him, no one will notify you when he gets out of prison. But I guess it's good he's got a target for his anger, even if he was cheating on you.”

Nothing had ever stopped her ex-husband from doing exactly what he wanted. Certainly not the bonds of holy matrimony. Celeste thought for a moment about the stripper who had testified against Caspian. The rest of the world might think that her ex would go after the girl, but Celeste wasn't so confident. Caspian separated people into groups, and most of them fell into the “disposable” one. He never spared them any more of his time beyond what would benefit him.

“Any friend of Tarak is someone you can trust.”

Celeste focused on the purple nail polish she was dabbing onto Sabra's toenails. The scent rose up to tickle her nose as the light glistened on the wet surface. “I'm not ready for any sort of a relationship, and since he's your husband's best friend, it would be a lot wiser for me to steer clear of any entanglements that might make for awkward moments in the future.”

Neat, logical, and complete bullshit.

“A good argument, counselor, but as your best friend”—Sabra shook her finger at Celeste—“I have to deliver a firm kick to your ass on the general topic of getting back into the dating world.”

You
have
a
ghost
in
your
eyes…

Nartan's words rose from her memory, sending a shiver down her spine.

Celeste screwed the cap on for a final time and found Sabra eyeing her with suspicion.

Sabra nodded. “Sacred friend duty. You'd do the same for me.”

Celeste laughed. “I've done the same.” She lifted her wineglass and leaned back in her chair. “I'll take it under advisement.”

And reject the idea for all the right reasons, no matter how frustrating it felt.

“You do that.”

Long after Sabra had wandered down the hall toward the master bedroom, Celeste was still having trouble dismissing Nartan Lupan from her thoughts. It was like an annoying itch in the middle of her shoulder blades that she just couldn't reach. Even the relaxation techniques Master Lee had taught her didn't help. So it remained to bug her.

At least she would leave Nartan behind in another day.

But somehow, she wasn't entirely convinced that distance would solve the problem. The reason was simple: he was correct. She had noticed the pulse between them. It was unruly and intense. Sinking into her in a way she'd never encountered. Utterly and completely uncontrollable.

But she was never going to admit it to him.

***

A howl woke her.

Celeste sat up and looked around the room.

The sun had finally gone down sometime after ten. Now the stars were brilliant, and a yellow moon was casting an amazing level of light in the nighttime hours.

There was a whimper and then another long howl.

Alaskan wolves.

She could sleep when she got back to Southern California.

She got up and hurried into her jeans. Only the range light was on in the kitchen, but with so much moonlight coming through the windows, it was easy to get to the mudroom and lace up her boots.

She opened the outer door slowly, sliding through to keep from moving it too much. A howl sounded, so much louder now that she was outside. She pressed the door shut and knelt down.

The starlight illuminated the wolves. At least six of them were pawing the ground as they moved along the road that connected the house with the test facility offices. Those offices weren't even in sight.

But the wolves were.

And so was Nartan.

He was crouched down twenty feet away. Her breath caught as she took in the way he blended with the moment. The wolves made yipping sounds as they came closer, smelling the road and the air as they went.

Nartan lifted his hand and beckoned her toward him. Her steps seemed too noisy, the crunching sounds grating on her ears. A wolf looked toward her and she froze.

Nartan beckoned again, turning to look at her.

The animal was still fifty feet away, but it was looking toward her. She bit her lower lip, afraid of spooking the animal.

Nartan closed in on her, moving right up next to her.

“He can smell you. You're upwind. Come down here with me. He won't worry about you then.”

“Oh…”

Nartan clasped her hand and pulled her down to where he'd been. He lifted his head, judging the wind. The wolf let out a yip and joined the rest as they scratched at the dirt and one another. Two of them would circle another, lowering their heads and yipping. The wolf in the center was the one who lifted its head and let out a long howl.

“The alpha…” Nartan whispered.

He had his arm draped around her, his scent filling her senses.

Why did he smell so good?

Not that it really mattered. He was still as pond water but his skin was warm. His attention was on the wolves, but she felt like it was on her as well. He shifted just a bit, and inhaled next to her hair.

Fresh from bed, it was a soft cloud. She reached up, self-conscious about how messy it was. He caught her hand and stopped her as the alpha looked at them. The animal's eyes were pools of moonlight. Its mouth was open, giving her a glimpse of its long canine teeth. It made a low sound before pushing its front paws out and stretching its neck up and tilting its head until its nose pointed at the moon. A long, mournful cry filled the night.

It felt like she was suspended in time. They might have been anywhere, in any year.

“Lower your head.”

He tucked his chin and cupped her nape.

“To show submission…”

Celeste stiffened. Nartan chuckled in a bare whisper next to her ear. “To the alpha.”

She bent, the wolf watching her before losing interest and moving along with the pack.

Nartan massaged her neck, his fingers working the stiffness from the muscles as she straightened. “Well done.”

It felt like there was innuendo in his comment. But maybe she was just being too sensitive.

To-be-dealt-with list.

She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to relax. The wolves were moving away now, heading toward a forested area. The alpha looked back at them before it disappeared into the timber.

“That was amazing,” she whispered.

Nartan's hand was under her hair, the touch so intimate that she was loath to pull away. He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling his hand free as he finger-combed the strands. He watched her as he did it, his eyes reflecting the moonlight just as the alpha's had.

He was in his element.

Call it cheesy or lame but she couldn't shake it.

So she rose, backing away from him as he stood. His shirt was open all the way down his front, his jeans sagging low on his waist because he didn't have a belt on. And his feet were bare.

“Aren't you cold?”

He slowly smiled and extended his hand. “Judge for yourself.”

She started to reach for him and froze. Indecision held her in its grip as the wind blew her hair around. One of his dark eyebrows rose as she hesitated.

Chicken…

She reached out and touched him. Allowed her fingertips to rest on his forearm for a moment that felt like a mini eternity. It ended when he twisted his arm around and captured her wrist. He stepped up to her, pulling her toward him. She could have broken the hold, if she was able to think.

Which she wasn't.

Her brain seemed to have shut down. Somehow, she was caught in a storm of sensations, completely unwilling to think about anything. She simply wanted to experience the moment.

Well, it was quite a moment.

Rich with scents and sensations that were intoxicating. His breath teased her ear and then her cheek. A shudder shook her, sending a tiny gasp through her lips. Nartan took advantage of her parted lips, pressing his down on top of them and tasting them slowly.

God, how long had it been since she'd been kissed?

Pleasure flowed through her, gaining strength like a flame catching a wick. Sure, she knew that a candle was for lighting, but until it was lit, the memory of how bright it could shine was dim.

She stepped back. Startled by how much she liked his kiss.

She wanted more.

A hell of a lot more.

But she turned and headed back into the house before she could do anything impulsive.

Moon madness. That was all.

Only she wasn't really sure if she would ever be sane again.

***

She really hated weddings.

Celeste plastered a smile on her face and ordered herself to let the past go. She wasn't the only one in the world who'd married the wrong guy. Weddings as a whole shouldn't be hated, especially when they were as polished and upscale as the one Tarak Nektosha was willing to pay for.

A huge warehouse had been transformed into a dream wedding venue. It came complete with lighting and a sound system hoisted into the rafters on stage rigging. The normally practical walls were hung with hundreds of yards of satin that reflected the lights perfectly. Candles lent their soft flickering light to the scene as a small army of catering staff made sure the guests all had seats for the ceremony.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, and Celeste had to admit to a moment of softness when Tarak took Sabra's hands in his and spoke his vows. Something in the way he looked at Sabra almost made Celeste believe they might be destined for a true happily-ever-after.