Hot for the Holidays (8 page)

Shaking her head at the thought of some of the stern-faced Breeds singing Christmas carols she collected the small velvet purse from the bed, pulled a tiny five-shot .22 derringer from the duffel bag Hawke had brought from her cabin with the other items, and secured it inside the purse.

The Breeds knew she had the derringer. At least, a few of them did. The tiny gun had been collected along with her other belongings when she was taken into custody.

It was little more than a powerful peashooter, but at close range it could do some serious damage. She wasn’t allowed a regular weapon any longer, or at least, her military issue weapon hadn’t been returned to her, so she assumed, for the moment, it wasn’t allowed.

For the moment. She had all intentions of making certain her weapon was returned, along with her job. Once Dr. Armani was certain there was no chance that the drug she had been given was still in her system, then she would request her post back.

Until then, she had a home to decorate and furnish. Hawke had the basics. A large mattress and box spring, but no true bed. A closet to hang their clothes in, bar stools at the bar. The house was largely empty, and already she was coming up with ideas on how to fill it.

“Damn, you look like an angel.”

She turned around, feeling the skirt of the gown as it flared around her feet, to stare back at Hawke in surprise.

His voice had been pitched low, dark with longing, with an element of need that seemed to cascade through her system.

Dressed in dark jeans, black shirt and boots, with his hair still damp from the shower and brushed back, he looked like a dark angel himself. Sensual, sexual and wicked. A being so erotic that he made grown women melt in shameless hunger.

She had seen that melting more than once. Breeds and non-Breeds alike, women took one look at Hawke’s roughly handsome face, corded muscular body and deep golden eyes, and they wept in need.

“You look damn fine yourself.” She smiled, suddenly nervous, feeling her palms dampen as a surge of sensation seemed to erupt between her thighs.

Wow. The hormonal treatment Dr. Armani had worked up for her evidently didn’t do the job the way it should. One look at Hawke and every feminine hormone in her body went nuts. It was a chaotic mixture of arousal, trepidation and pure excitement.

She couldn’t blame it all on the mating heat. She’d felt this way before he’d ever touched her, before he’d ever kissed her.

She’d talked to Dr. Armani in depth over the past year about mating heat, and she was beginning to wonder if the heat wasn’t just an advanced arousal. An advanced tie. If nature hadn’t simply ensured that those who fell in love were pushed together faster, held together more firmly, to guarantee the survival of this species.

“Ready?” He held his hand out to her. A large, capable, strong hand. Calloused and dark, as though his entire body was permanently tanned.

Jessica moved to him slowly, let him envelop her hand in his and draw her to the bedroom door.

“Did you put the presents in the Rover?” she asked, trying to tone down the nervousness. She hadn’t been to a party in years. Not since her father had finally stopped forcing her to attend the boring little functions he and his friends had staged several times a year.

“The presents are in the Rover,” he promised her. “The breads and desserts are packed snugly in the backseat alongside them.”

“Good.” She swallowed tightly as they moved down the natural wood stairs to the foyer. “You’re certain I should go?”

She wasn’t so certain. She was known as a traitor, no matter the reason. How could any of the Breeds trust her now?

“I’m absolutely certain you should go.” He drew to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, collected the long dark blue and black cloak that went with her dress and drew it over her shoulders. “You’re worrying too much, Jess. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Easy for you to say.” She licked her lips before raking the lower one with her teeth and staring up at him as worry began to tighten her chest. “I couldn’t blame anyone for not wanting me there, Hawke. You didn’t force this, did you?”

The faint smile at his lips was chastising, and just a bit amused. “I can’t force something like this, mate,” he promised her. “If Wolfe didn’t trust you to be there, then you wouldn’t be.”

That was true. She inhaled tightly before straightening her shoulders and forcing in courage for the evening ahead.

She knew Hope, Wolfe’s mate. Just as she knew Faith and Charity, the mates of his closest friends. She also knew Amanda Bear, a former president’s daughter and mate to a Coyote Breed. She’d met Anya Delgado several times, mate to the Coyote Breed alpha. She knew the mates of those who were influential in this world. She had thought they might even be friends.

“You’re worrying too much,” he promised her as they left the house and stepped into the cold night air.

Hawke held on to her as he moved her quickly to the Rover, helped her in and then loped around to the driver’s side. Jessica kept her fingers laced tightly together and held in her lap.

She knew Hawke could sense her nervousness; it wasn’t something she could help. She had always been denied acceptance until she had come here two years ago. During the year she had spent working with the Breeds she had thought she had begun to find that acceptance. Until she had unwillingly, unwittingly, given her father the information he had needed to attack Haven in the worst ways. She had given the location of the alpha’s home, as well as the homes of his second-in-command and his head of security. Locations that were kept hidden for a reason: because their lives were in such danger.

The drive to the entrance of the community center was quick. Hawke drew the Rover to a stop at the large double doors where a young Breed stepped outside and moved to the driver’s side as Hawke stepped out of the vehicle and walked quickly to Jessica’s door.

She took his hand, allowing him to help her to the paved entrance and draw her inside.

The upper, aboveground portion of the community center was filled with large rooms, a kitchen and various work centers. Belowground, reinforced and nearly impenetrable, was the huge open gathering area.

Joining ceremonies, as marriages were called in the Breed society, were often held there. It was there that mates were rushed if Haven was attacked, and this was where various dignitaries were brought for meetings.

Hawke guided her into a large elevator and keyed in his security code. Instantly the doors closed and they were whisked several floors belowground where they were deposited into a wide hallway where both human and Breed guests were loitering. Several journalists were in attendance, though no photographers were allowed. Breeds highly valued their privacy, no matter their Feline or Canine designations.

“You’re almost shaking,” Hawke accused her softly.

“I don’t do well at parties.” She lifted her head and squared her shoulders as they passed several Breed soldiers who had escorted her to her cell the day she had been arrested.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” he promised her as they stepped inside the wide double doors to the main room and he helped her off with her cloak before handing it over to a helpful attendant. A human attendant.

Coyote and Wolf Breeds mingled amid Christmas music and a display of bright, multicolored lights. At one end of the room was a huge fir tree that had been brought in, decorated lavishly and stacked with presents underneath.

Wolfe Gunnar stood close to the brightly colored traditional tree with Hope, his mate. Hope, with her slightly Asian features and diminutive stature, was dressed in a gay, vivid Christmas green. Her shoulder-length black hair fell to her shoulders like silken ribbon and gave her an almost regal air.

Wolfe, much taller and broader, stood with his arm around her shoulders as he laughed at something another Breed said. Coarse black hair was pulled back from his face to his nape and secured there. He was dressed in black as well, as were most of the males, with a dark silver silk ribbon stretching from his shoulder across his chest and to his waist that proclaimed his rank of Wolf Breed Alpha.

There were other ribbons present on many of the males. Different colors, all muted blue or gray. His second-in-command wore cloudy gray; his head of security wore a navy blue. Communications wore silver blue.

The women, guests and Breeds alike, were dressed extravagantly in long gowns. For the Breed females, this was their chance to be women rather than soldiers.

“I see you finally got her to join the rest of us mortals.” Ashley True stepped up to them, her teasing smile catching Jessica off guard.

“It was a trial,” Hawke admitted as he pulled Jessica closer.

“He’s the trial,” Jessica teased back. She was actually glad to see Ashley now that she wasn’t her bodyguard.

“Most male Breeds are.” Ashley sighed with exaggerated patience. “We put up with them the best we can.”

“Be good brat, or I’ll have a talk with your alpha about giving in on those spa treatments,” Hawke warned her. “I hear you got the full go-round today.”

Ashley’s smile brightened as she fluffed a head full of multihued blonde curls and flashed a perfect set of nails. “Del-Rey does so enjoy spoiling me, Hawke. He won’t listen to you.”

“Brat.” Hawke laughed again.

“Always,” Ashley agreed. “Now, go find Wolfe. He was asking where you were a little while ago. I’m off to find more punch.”

She sped away on heels that should have been impossible to stand on.

“That woman is a menace,” Hawke muttered as they continued through the throng of guests.

“She’s nice though.” Ashley, her sisters Sharone and Emma, and the Coyote’s mate and Coya, the female Coyote alpha, Anya, had always been kind to her. She’d appreciated that, even as she had chafed under their protection.

“She’s hell. A prissy little diva by day and when night falls, I swear, one of the sharpest, most lethal Coyote Breeds ever created.”

But wasn’t that what all Breeds were created to be? They were trained to fit in when they had to, and to kill perfectly, efficiently, when they were ordered to.

Moving to the tree, Hawke sat their large bag of gifts among the others before straightening and drawing Jessica to where Wolfe and Hope Gunnar and Jacob and Faith Arlington stood.

“Wolfe, Hope, Jacob, Faith.” He nodded to the four as he drew Jessica closer. “May I present my mate and soon-to-be wife, Jessica Raines.”

Jessica almost froze in shock as everyone around them became quiet. Dread began to fill her as Wolfe’s black gaze flickered over her. He was imposing, showing little emotion, no acceptance or rejection. His nostril’s flared and he drew in her scent.

She knew he could smell the combination of her scent and Hawke’s as it merged in the mating heat. He would also smell her fear. But would he know her regret, her pain, and the wish that she had known what her parents were doing, how they had wanted to destroy the Breeds? Did all that come across in a scent? She highly doubted it.

“You’ve chosen well, Hawke Esteban.” Wolfe’s arm moved from his mate’s shoulder so he could clasp Hawke’s hand. “A beautiful and loyal mate, and one I’m pleased to accept into our pack.”

Jessica blinked. He couldn’t have been speaking of her, could he?

“Jessica, had we not doubted that you could betray us, then you would have died before Hawke had time to declare you as his mate,” Wolfe told her softly as she stared back at him. “Questions needed answers, and your loyalty had to be proven rather than simply believed in despite the evidence. We thank you for your patience, and above all, for the grace you showed during your confinement to give us the time to prove your innocence, as well as your bond to your mate.”

She shook her head slowly. “What grace, Alpha Gunnar?” she whispered in disbelief.

A smile tugged at his lips. “You didn’t throw anything at us, despite months upon months of questioning. You never threatened to call in a representative, though you could have. And not once did you demand rights that were due you. The right of Tribunal rather than confinement during your interrogation. That was grace.”

She shook her head again. “It was guilt,” she whispered back. “How could I deny what I had done, even though I couldn’t explain why I had done it, or stop the actions even as they happened?”

“You saved my mate, as well as Jacob’s, despite the drug that enforced your will,” he said gently. “That was courage, and it was strength. We need that strength to survive our future. You’re part of Hawke’s future, and therefore, part of our own. Welcome to our pack.”

He nodded with a slow dip of his head, a respectful air of acceptance. He wouldn’t hug her, nor shake her hand. No Breed alive would dare to even brush against her during mating heat, especially that first, strongest phase that she was in now.

She had been accepted though. By his words and his actions, Wolfe had given her mating to Hawke his blessing, and therefore, the pack’s blessing.

“Dance with me now.” Hawke drew her into his arms even though she was still reeling from Wolfe’s proclamation.

She was part of the pack, a family. The pack was like an extended family, drawing together both Wolf and Coyote Breeds, extending an umbrella over each member, an acceptance they could find nowhere else.

The sound of a slow ballad filled the huge room as Hawke led her to the dance floor. Instantly, heat, sizzling energy and a sense of warmth began to invade her. With her head against his chest, his hands settled low at her back, moving her against him, Jessica let the acceptance she had been given sink inside her.

She had found a home; she had found a family. She had people who had believed in her even when it had appeared she had betrayed them.

“I love you, Jessica Raines.”

She almost froze in his arms as Hawke whispered the words at her ear.

Jessica lifted her head and stared up at him, her lips parting, tears filling her eyes. “I’ve always loved you, Hawke Esteban,” she answered, her voice soft, trembling. “Since the moment I met you, I loved you.”

He was her future, he was her heart.

Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers, a sizzling caress that almost caused a moan to break from her throat. She could taste a hint of the spicy essence of his kiss. A taste of lust, need, desire and hunger. A taste that would only fuel her own.