In Deeper (10 page)

Micah rolled his eyes. “When did you become Dr. Phil? And don’t talk about her ass.”

“It’s a fine ass.” Max dodged the half-hearted swing Micah made at his head. “I’m just saying you’d better go after her before you lose your chance.”

Micah finished off his beer and stood. “Since it’s going to take a bit before we get to the airport, I’m off to take a shower. I’ll leave you to your delusions.”

“And I’ll leave you to your denial.”

Micah groaned and trudged down the short hallway to his room. The tour bus was outfitted in the latest of luxury, but it didn’t change the fact that it was a bus. He gathered fresh clothes and took a quick shower. Once he was dressed, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. Even though he hadn’t had reason to call Celeste, he’d memorized her digits a long time before.

She didn’t answer. An annoyingly cheerful but computer-generated voice told him to leave a message. He hung up and dialed the number a second time. The call went straight to voice mail again, and he blew out an angry breath. Damn her. He ended the call and dialed Drake’s number instead. His brother answered on the first ring.

“She’s not here.”

Micah frowned. “How’d you know what I wanted?”

“Let’s call it an educated guess.” Drake’s sigh echoed over the phone line. “She’s being stubborn and refused to come to the beach house.”

“Make her. You’re the alpha, aren’t you?” Fear wasn’t something he often faced, but the thought of Celeste alone made his heart clench. “Force her.”

“Micah, it doesn’t work like that. I respect her too much to play the alpha card. She didn’t become my beta because she was weak.”

“I know that, damn it, but these are special circumstances. If it were one of us, you’d lock us up without a moment’s thought.”

“That’s different. You’re family.”

Micah cursed low. “She’s not?”

“Damn it, that’s not what I meant. You know I care about Celeste. But I’m not forcing her out of her home because of a couple threatening e-mails. I called her two hours ago. She sounded fine.”

Micah glanced at the clock. Nearly ten. He made an instant decision, one he was sure he’d regret the next day. “OK, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“What does that—”

Micah hung up before his brother finished his question.

* * *

Celeste stood in the center of her foyer and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the east-facing wall. She’d never been a fan of her father’s design. A private person, she hadn’t enjoyed her entire life being put on display, but it wasn’t easy to hide when your entire house consisted of glass. It was even more difficult when frightened.

Lightning streaked across the sky, and hail pounded against the windows. Out of all the nights it could storm, the heavens would pick tonight. She thought she heard a noise and had come downstairs to investigate. It turned out to be a false alarm, possibly the beginning of the hailstorm.

She caught sight of her reflection as the room lit up with another streak of electricity arcing across the sky. Her white robe and pale face made her appear a specter.

Gripping the edges of the robe tighter, she turned and walked toward the front door. The glowing LED display of her security system beckoned her. She checked the stats, satisfied everything was locked down tight, and activated the cameras. The system cost thousands, but it was well worth it now. She was glad she’d had the foresight to have it installed after her father’s death.

Her bare feet grew chilled against the marble tile. She shivered and went to the stairs. It was nearly midnight. She was halfway up the winding metal staircase when a loud crash sounded behind her. She jumped and whirled around, her gaze searching for the source of the noise. Lightning crackled and illuminated a huge oak tree outside. The large branches swayed back and forth; one scraped across the window and made a horrible sound.

With her hands clutched to her chest, she laughed. “Get a grip,” she berated herself. “You’re used to being alone. Don’t let a silly thunderstorm scare you.” The quiet admonition didn’t stop her from taking the stairs two at a time and hurrying down the hall to her room. She flipped the lock on her door and retreated into the big space that took up half of the second floor.

Still a little shaky, she crawled into the bed and pulled the covers over her shoulders. Perhaps she should’ve gone to Tybee with Drake and Emma, but it was ridiculous to imagine she couldn’t take care of herself in her own home.

Her thoughts turned to Micah. She’d been in the shower when he called. A part of her rejoiced at missing the calls. The unexpected events of the night before had shaken her composure, but she missed him like she’d suspected she would. It had taken every bit of self-control to not dial him back. She wanted to hear his voice, know he was OK so bad it frightened her.

She’d never been like this before, so wrapped up in another person. She’d asked for his help, wanted to mate with him. But was she prepared to face everything that entailed? What if she made a mistake and tied her life to a man who wouldn’t want her once the passion waned?

And would it wear off eventually? She doubted it. Just the thought of being with him set her body on fire. She ached for his touch, craved him with a vengeance that bordered on pain. A second dose of Micah made her want him more. Would she ever tire of his perfect eight pack, strong arms, and oh-so-delicious kisses?

Her thighs trembled, and she moaned with rising hunger. How would she survive until the twenty-second? Would he even want her after the time apart? She understood what it was like on tour. There would be masses of girls ready to fall in bed with him. He owed her nothing, but the thought of him with another woman threatened to tip her off the ledge of sanity.

Shit, she was screwed. The one man she wanted was revered the world over for his fabulous good looks and sexy voice. How could she compete with the attention he received on stage? He thrived on the thrill of performing. Careers notwithstanding, they lived in separate cities. Long-distance relationships between shifters were almost impossible. Wolves were passionate creatures, unable to deny their urges when roused. Faith was the backbone of any relationship, and with her trust issues and his reputation, they’d be doomed.

God, why hadn’t she thought her plan through before she set it into effect? She’d always prided herself on being a clearheaded thinker. But it was next to impossible to keep her wits about her when it came to Micah.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and skittered along her already raw nerve endings. What happened to the beautiful blue skies and fluffy white clouds she’d enjoyed on the ride home? Summer thunderstorms were the worst. Too keyed up to sleep, she plugged in her laptop and pulled up her work e-mail. The familiar envelope symbol blinked to let her know she had messages in her in-box, and she clicked on the icon with reluctance. None were from her antagonizing messenger, thank goodness.

After an hour of responding to the most pertinent e-mails, she looked up from the computer screen and glanced at the window.

Weak moonlight illuminated the sky, the storm clouds dissipating into streaks of gray. It still rained but barely more than a drizzle off the eaves. She should be able to sleep. Thankfully tomorrow was Sunday. She’d have time to rest and recharge.

She set aside her laptop and snuggled into the pillows. She’d just closed her eyes when the shrill alarm of her security system broke the silence of the night. Popping to a sit, she drew in a deep breath. Crap, what did she do now? She reached for the phone right as it rang almost immediately and listened to the calm voice of the operator on the line asking if everything was OK.

“I’m not sure. Can you stay on the line with me?”

After the operator’s assurance that he would, she slid out of bed and crept to the door. She creaked it open and poked her head into the hallway. “Lightning is in the area. Do you think the electronics tripped?”

The sound of the operator typing on a keyboard preceded his answer. “Doesn’t appear to be a malfunction. Should I call for an officer?”

“Not yet.” Celeste ignored the warning clanging in her brain and hurried down the hallway. “Let me check first.”

“Miss, I really would rather…”

She cut him off. “Just one minute.”

She stepped off the last stair and glanced toward the front door in time to witness a shadowy shape materialize on the stoop. “There’s someone outside.”

“I’m calling the police,” the operator responded. “Stay inside and lock your door. I’ll stay on the line with you.”

The terror at seeing the figure faded. The outline of a familiar body coalesced into recognition. “No, no. Everything is all right. It’s a friend.”

“Are you sure?”

She reassured the operator and disconnected the call. Tossing the phone onto a table laden with fresh roses, she walked to the alarm system and entered her code. The wail screeched to a stop. What in the hell was Micah doing? Why wasn’t he on the bus heading to whatever city was next on the tour?

She unlocked the front door and tugged it open. Micah’s scent, damp and spicy, rushed over her. “What are you doing here?”

Droplets of water dripped from his hair, traced his forehead, and slipped down the bridge of his nose. Dark blue eyes swept over her in a casual regard, almost too casual. He was angry, dangerously so. She took an instinctive step backward.

He entered the foyer and locked the door behind him. “I called you.”

“I saw.” She’d been cold before. Now warmth flowed through her limbs, heating her with every beat of her heart. “I was in the shower.”

His attention flicked to the robe she still wore. “I told you I’d call and check on you.”

“And so you did. Uh, thank you?” She didn’t know what else to do, so she took another step back. “Micah, why in the world are you here? Did something happen?”

“Yeah, something happened.” Frustration crossed his face. “I called you and you didn’t answer. Then Drake told me you refused to stay at the beach house. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

Touched by his concern, but fearful of giving up control, she shrugged. “Did you ever think perhaps I was busy?”

“Were you?” He cut straight to the heart of the matter.

“Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. I had work to catch up on. I can’t drop everything just because you tell me to.”

“What were you working on?”

She didn’t trust the calculating look in his eyes. “E-mails mostly. Why?”

He brushed past her and headed for the stairs. She watched him go and wondered what he was doing. Instead of following him, she stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited for him to return. When he did, he had the laptop tucked under his arm.

“What in the hell are you doing?” She raced up the stairs and tried to tug the laptop out of his grip. “I need that.”

“I know. That’s why I’m taking it and you to the beach house. You can do all the e-mailing you want there.”

She tugged again, but he held tight. “Are you crazy? You can’t barge in here and order me about.”

“I just did.” Micah put a hand on her elbow and steered her down the stairs toward the door. “Let’s go.”

She jerked her arm away, knowing if he touched her she’d turn into a puddle of mushy female compliance. “You don’t get to make the rules. You’re in my house, in case you didn’t realize.”

“I wouldn’t be here if you’d done what I asked.”

She stepped toe to toe with him and bared her teeth. “You didn’t ask. You demanded. Huge difference.”

“Seriously, you want to go there?” Micah quirked an eyebrow. “I shanghaied Drake’s private jet to come check on you, and you cite irrelevances?”

“Damned straight,” she snapped back. “Thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I’m safe and sound. There was no need to abandon the tour.”

His gaze softened. “There was every reason.”

She sucked in a lungful of air. How could he go from domineering to sweet in a matter of seconds? Her anger dissolved in an instant, but she refused to let him off the hook. “I’ll pay for your flight. You didn’t have to come.”

“I don’t need your damned money.” The words came out in a rush. He drew an audible breath and touched her arm. “I just need to know you’re safe.”

She allowed the gentle caress of his palm. His fingers brushed the soft skin of her upper arm and moved higher, going beneath the embroidered hem of the short sleeve. The simple touch set off a shock wave of desire. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“Yes,” he murmured. His gaze was no longer on her face. The heat of his regard traveled from her arm to her shoulder before moving lower. The robe exposed a large V of flesh, and it didn’t take a genius to know the bare skin captured his attention.

Her traitorous nipples puckered and pressed against the thin cotton. She wanted his hands on her, wanted him to pinch her nipples and then soothe the ache with his mouth. “Micah…”

He turned and deposited the laptop on the table next to her phone. When he turned back to her, his face was a study in unwarranted lust. Need was stamped onto the sharp angles of his face, and heat blazed from his eyes hot enough to rival the sun.

He parted her robe and exposed the stark bruise he’d made on her skin. “It looks darker.”

She glanced down and watched him trace the edges of the bite mark. “Hmmm. Maybe. It won’t disappear for a few weeks.”

He glanced up and captured her gaze. “Long enough to serve its purpose.”

“Yes.” She wanted to plead with him to stay with her.

“We should go.” He dipped his head, and the whispered words floated across her lips.

Damn it. He wouldn’t seduce her into giving in. “I’m not leaving.”

“I can make you,” he pointed out.

Her competitive nature surfaced. “You could try.”

“Don’t play games with me, Celeste. You can’t win.”

She lifted her chin and took a confident step backward. Her robe slipped down, exposing the curve of one breast and shoulder, and she spoke without hesitation. “I trust you can see yourself out.”

CHAPTER EIGHT