Authors: Keri Arthur
Quinn nodded. "Be careful in there. If you need help, just drop your shields and yell psychically."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is it safe for you to drop your shields? I mean, you're stopped right outside an overflowing wolf nightclub--won't the combination of auras be overwhelming?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He hesitated. "Because I won't be dropping my shields. I'll hear you through them."
"How?"
"We've shared blood. Psychically, I'm now more attuned to you."
"Meaning you can read my thoughts anytime?"
"No, because your shields are too strong. But drop them, and call, and I'll be there."
If I called now, would he come? Not to me, but with me? In me? Somehow, I doubted it. And besides, if Misha
was
behind any of this, I needed to be at fever pitch. Needed my aura to hit him hard and fast, so that he had no time to think, just react. And during our mating, I'd get my answers--either verbally, or by reading his mind.
"I have no idea how long this will take."
He shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere."
So he said. I put my hand on the door handle, then hesitated. "Quinn--"
"There's nothing between us," he said softly. "Nothing other than great sex, anyway."
He wasn't wrong--as yet, there
was
nothing more than great sex. But we'd only known each other a few days, and the indications were, even then, that there
could
be something else there. Whether it was a deeper relationship or simply friendship and good sex was something only time would tell. And no matter what warnings Rhoan and Liander might give, I was more than willing to chance fate and explore options. "Great sex is somewhere to start."
His gentle smile made my heart do a familiar flip-flop. "I am not the sharing type, Riley, and I do not want to be dragged into the whole werewolf culture. It's just not me."
I raised my eyebrows. "Even at the cost of losing great sex?"
"Even at." His gaze left mine. "You'd better get going. He's probably already inside."
"Probably." I studied his profile a moment longer, then leaned across the car to place a kiss on his cheek.
Only he shifted, and my kiss found his mouth instead. It was a long, glorious possession that left me gasping for breath and wanting him more than I'd ever wanted anyone in my life.
"Go," was all he said, the lilt of Ireland so rich in his voice his word was almost lost.
I went. Right then, I had no other choice.
Jimmy gave me a cheery hello and opened the door, ushering me in past a chorus of complaints and groans from those still waiting. A second guard waited near the inner door--Jimmy's brother, Stan. He was slighter smaller, slightly thinner, but other than that, almost an exact replica of Jimmy. Only he had all his own teeth.
"Hey, Riley," he rumbled. "Misha was asking for you as he came in, about ten minutes ago."
My smile felt tight. "Thanks, Stan."
He nodded. "We're packed tonight. Just as well you booked a table."
"Yeah." I grabbed a locker key as usual, then headed inside.
The hologram stars burned across the ceiling, their light not yet dimmed by the glow of the blue moon, which was only just beginning to rise in the distant corner.
The dance floor was a sea of naked, gyrating flesh, and most of the tables were occupied. The air was as hot as the music and rich with the scent of lust and sex. I breathed deep, allowing the atmosphere to soak through every pore, right into my bones.
If I wanted to be involved with Quinn on a deeper level than I was, I'd probably have to give up this sort of dance. But it was what I was. The freedom and excitement of these moon dances was part of my nature, and I'd be damned if I'd drop them just because it offended his human sensibilities. I wasn't human, and he shouldn't judge me by those standards. And asking me to give up the moon dance would be like asking him to stop drinking blood. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right.
I made my way down the stairs and into the change room. Misha might be watching, so everything had to follow the pattern I'd set over the past year, right down to taking a shower and stowing my clothes.
When I walked back out I was as naked as everyone else. I scanned the tables until I found mine, but he wasn't there. Which meant he was either somewhere on the dance floor or in one of the back privacy booths or rooms with someone else.
I moved onto the dance floor. The rich aroma of sweat and wantonness swam around me, and my breath caught, then quickened. The press of flesh made my skin burn and my already erratic heart race that much harder.
Hands caught me, whirling me around before pulling me into a body that was strong and lean and brown. Teeth flashed brightly as he wrapped his arms around my waist and led me into a dance that was both sensual and playful.
The moon and the atmosphere and my own raging hormones had me ready to take or be taken. Had it been another time, another day, I might have done both, right there, right then.
The stranger brushed a kiss across my lips, a caress that was teasing yet filled with the promise of heat. "I want you," he said softly. "Are you free to take this dance a little further?"
His voice was as playful as his dance, and I liked the fact he asked first rather than trying to take, as many on the dance floor would have. The crush of his body against mine felt so good, so tempting. I took a deep breath and tried to remember that I was there for a reason.
"Unfortunately, no, not at the moment," I murmured, pressing just a little bit closer. He wasn't much taller than I, so the heat of him caressed all the right places.
His green eyes gleamed with amusement and desire. "I'm Kellen."
"Riley."
"You a regular here?"
"Yes. You?"
"First time. But I believe I've found reason enough to come back again."
I grinned, liking the mischievous yet determined glint in his eyes. The way his body fitted mine so neatly. "I shall keep an eye out for you."
He raised my hand and kissed my fingers. "Do that," he said, and whirled me back into the madness.
I found Misha a few seconds later. He was just off the center of the wildly gyrating crowd, dancing with several silver wolves. His gaze was molten when it met mine, his hunger a live thing that stole my breath and ate at my skin. That surprised me. Misha had never been one to wait for pleasure, and the three he danced with looked more than eager.
He caught my hand, pulling me close as he spun us away from the silvers. The flash of their anger burned after us, but was quickly lost in the sea of hunger washing past.
He didn't say anything, just pulled me into the thick of the dance, right into the very heart where the press of bodies was at its strongest and the smell of sex so powerful it was almost liquid. I could barely breathe, desire was so fierce, yet I was not so far gone that I couldn't sense the anger in him.
He wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled me close. His kiss was fierce and hard and long.
"You should have asked, Riley," he said eventually. "I would have answered your questions."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, still playing the game though I knew the game was over. "I came here to ask you questions."
"Maybe. And maybe you were meant as a distraction."
I couldn't move, couldn't retreat. Truth be known, didn't want to do either. He was too close, felt too good. "What makes you think that?"
"The fact that three minutes before you walked in I was notified that someone had broken into my Collins Street office." His smile was tight. "They can look all they like. They won't find anything."
"And you're so sure that you'll let them look?"
"Oh yes."
Heat pressed through me, against me. Heat that was Misha as well as the other wolves crushed against us. Every breath was an intake of hunger, and in the blue wash of the lights sweat glistened like diamonds against my skin. I could barely even think, the fever was so bad, and yet I knew I had to keep my wits about me. I could not afford to forget that Misha might well be the enemy.
"How did you know?" My breath was little more than a pant of air.
"I have always preferred to rely on more than the latest in technological wizardry."
He didn't explain it and I didn't have enough air left to ask. His hands tightened against my waist, his fingers hot and bruising as he lifted me onto him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and began to move.
"The bait will earn her answers tonight, believe me," he growled.
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. My blood burned, my heart hammered like a steam train, and all I wanted was to ride this lean and angry man until the slow waves of pleasure lapping my skin became a molten force that would not be denied.
And that's exactly what I did.
We climaxed as one, the strength of it tearing a strangled sound from my throat as his body slammed me into the backs of others, his movements fast and furious.
The shudders eased. He was still hard inside, but that wasn't surprising, simply because the power of the moon was at full force. The moon heat granted all wolves the potency to celebrate again and again during the weeklong phase, but tonight and tomorrow were peaks, with recovery time down to zero. Perhaps it was nature's way of making up for the change she forced us through at the full moon. The night of the full moon was the one night we had no control over which form we took. That night, we ran solely as wolves.
He began to move inside me again. His expression was tight, intent, and I knew he intended to exact payment in full before he said anything more.
The fact that he was there, fucking me, when he was well aware that his offices were being broken into and examined assured me there would be nothing incriminating found. Whether that evidence was somewhere else or whether there was simply nothing to be found was anyone's guess.
We stayed in that sweating, gyrating mass for an hour before moving out. We continued at the table, in the shower, against the wall, on the stairs. Each time was hard and furious, and most of the time he took without giving. The wolf in me was having a damn fine time, but the woman was getting a little pissed.
He finally led me back to the table, and I heaved a silent sigh of relief. I was bruised and aching and only partially satisfied, and knew it was intentional. He was making me pay for what he saw as a betrayal.
I slid onto one of the benches and grabbed a beer off a passing waiter. I didn't drink it immediately, instead pressing the icy bottle against my fevered forehead.
Misha sat down on the opposite side. "Ask your questions."
His silver eyes gave nothing away.
"Tell me why you had a file bearing the name Genoveve Confectionary on your desk a year ago."
"It was a company I was considering buying." He raised a pale eyebrow. "You have a very good memory."
"Exceptional, considering the circumstances."
The smile that played across his lips was at odds with the ice of his gaze.
"And did you?" I prompted, when he didn't say anything.
"No."
"Who did?"
"Konane."
"The same company who owns Moneisha?"
"Yes."
I flipped the cap off the beer and took a long drink before asking, "So who is the owner of Konane?"
He smiled. "Try another question."
His expression said he'd tell me. Eventually. I wondered how many hours' "payment" he would exact before he did. "So what has chocolate and research got in common?"
"Maybe the owner was simply diversifying his portfolio."
Something in the way he said that itched at my instincts. "You don't believe that."
"No."
"Why not?"
He leaned back in his seat and studied me for a second, his expression both arrogant and amused. "Because the owner of Konane and I share similar interests, and have, in the past, been business partners."
I forced a smile. "You never told me you were interested in chocolate."
There was something cold and hard about his expression. I had the strangest feeling that
this
man, the man who had taken me so ruthlessly that night, was the real Misha. That the Misha I'd been allowed to see the previous twelve months was merely a means to an end. What that end was I had no idea, but had a bad feeling I'd better find out.
I lowered my shields and reached out with my mind. I wasn't surprised to hit a wall around his thoughts--but it wasn't electronic. His shield was as natural as mine and just as strong.
I took another drink of beer and tried to ignore the urge to leave. I had a job to do, and besides, the moon still burned through my blood.
"It wasn't the chocolate that caught our interest," he said softly, "but the fact that Genoveve was supposedly built over the top of a military installation."
Would the plans in Alan Brown's office match the installation Genoveve was supposedly sitting on? Probably. "I've read about the World War II tunnels and arms caches they've uncovered in and around Melbourne, but never have I heard a whisper about anything bigger."