In Deeper (5 page)

Disappointment filled Micah. She claimed his brother’s opinion didn’t matter. So why did she react as if they’d been caught doing something wrong?

He grabbed his phone and answered. “Yeah?”

Drake’s voice seemed subdued. Too composed. “I need to see you.”

Micah glanced at Celeste, who watched him with a wary expression. “I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Micah.” Drake’s tone didn’t sound stern exactly but damned close. “Have you found out anything from Celeste?”

Micah sighed and turned his back to the seductive temptress standing before him. “I’m working on it.”

“As long as it’s just work.” Drake paused and when he continued, his voice returned to normal. “Call me in the morning. Or better yet, come see me when you’re finished.”

“Will do.” Micah disconnected the call and tucked the phone in his pocket. Celeste continued to act like a teenager who’d been caught making out in the backseat of her parents’ car. Damn Drake for making him experience the same feeling. “Relax. It’s nothing.”

Her defensive stance loosened. She repeated her earlier question. “What did he want?”

“To tell me it’s bedtime.” He enjoyed her shocked expression. “I told you. It was nothing. We’re all grown-ups here.”

The heated moment had dissipated somewhere along the way. Even though his cock remained rock hard, the conversation with his brother had given him a moment to clear his head. Sleeping with Celeste would never be a mistake in his book, but lust couldn’t blind him to the fact that she was in trouble. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Why wait until they approached you to say anything?”

Celeste raked her hand through her long hair and shook the curls in a familiar movement. It was a gesture he’d watched her do whenever she felt particularly frustrated. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t realize I needed to put the kibosh on it until I realized the celebration was being targeted.”

Impotent anger filled him. “Have you given any thought that they may mean to harm the attendees? Not just you?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you really think so?”

“It’s a possibility.” He shrugged and recalled the e-mails he’d read. Although the messages seemed to target Celeste, who knew what went through someone else’s mind. “I’m going to need to review the details of the party.”

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Maybe I should just cancel it.”

“No.” He pointed at the laptop. “Don’t let whoever is responsible bully you into giving up. I’m not going to let him win. E-mail the details and keep me informed on everything. When is the date?”

The gratitude shining from her golden eyes warmed him from the inside out. “August twenty-fifth.”

He did a quick calculation in his head. “Twenty-one days from now. The tour ends on the twenty-second. I can be back in Savannah in time to help arrange security.”

He focused on the minutiae. Anything to keep his mind off her other offer. He’d help her because he wanted to, but he wouldn’t allow his hunger for her to overrule his caution. “When are you returning to Savannah?”

She glanced at the bedside clock. “In a few hours. Probably at six or so. I have a meeting scheduled first thing Monday morning.”

It was a little after midnight already. The tour bus was set to depart at nine, but he had enough time to meet Drake and finalize a few details. “Did you drive here?”

She nodded. “I brought the Rolls.”

Of course she did. Her shiny, silver Rolls Royce was well known on Tybee Island. It had been a gift for her twenty-first birthday. The last present her elderly, affectionate father had given her before he succumbed to a stroke. “Drake and Emma flew commercial. They’ll ride back with you to Savannah.”

“Not a good idea.” Celeste began shaking her head before he’d even finished speaking.

He cupped her shoulders. “For the last time, Emma doesn’t hold a grudge toward you. Sure, she may have been jealous once, but that was in the past.”

Celeste’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “She never liked me.”

“Can you blame her? A girl like you? Any sane woman would be jealous.” The compliment slipped out. He decided it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like Celeste didn’t know she was attractive. “You’re riding with them and that’s final.”

Celeste’s eyes narrowed and her pupils grew rounder. “Come again?”

He laughed at her typical female response. “I’m not being bossy.”

“Yes, you are,” she interjected.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m only trying to keep you safe. Drake is going to insist on it regardless.”

Her pupils returned to their normal size. “True enough. I’m sorry. You’re trying to help me, and I’m being a total bitch.”

He laughed, enjoying the ups and downs of their conversation. It always seemed to be that way with her. “You’re welcome. And you’re not being a bitch.” He slid a teasing glance her way. “For once.”

She laughed with him. Her face lit up when she was truly amused, her cheeks pink with good health, her eyes bright and lively. But it was her mouth he focused on. Perfect for kissing, plump and red, with a tiny indention in the center of her bottom lip.

At first glance, she might appear a perfect ice princess, but underneath she was full of fire and vitality. Her beauty blinded most to her true nature. But
he knew. Her passion was like molten lava, slow to build, but devastating in effect. The memory of the sounds she made when aroused, the tiny whimpers that escaped her when she peaked, haunted him.

Celeste’s amusement slowly faded. “Thank you.”

He didn’t need her gratitude. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Her company mattered to her, and he refused to let anyone harm her. “I should go.”

She seemed surprised and possibly disappointed. “Yes. It’s late.”

“It’s only fair to warn you that I’m going to speak to Drake.”

She sighed. “I figured as much.”

“He’s not going to be happy you kept this from him,” he pointed out.

“I don’t figure he will be.” Her clean, honest gaze met his. “I wanted to handle it on my own. When it became apparent I couldn’t, you were my first choice. I can’t lie. I wanted it to be you.”

If she’d punched him in the gut, he wouldn’t have been more surprised. She’d never treated him as anything other than a bothersome pest, a man she put up with because of her relationship with his brother. “Why?”

Her regard sharpened. “If you don’t know the answer, you’re a fool.”

For the second time, she’d shocked him. What sort of fucked-up reality was this? Celeste never seemed to want him around. Other than the one time she’d gotten drunk enough to kill a horse and jumped in bed with him, she’d never given him anything but a hard time. “It’s late,” he repeated. “Either Drake or I will come for you in the morning.”

Before she could answer one way or the other, he left, cursing himself for the fool she’d claimed him to be.

* * *

Drake, as expected, flew off the handle. “Why in the hell didn’t she come to me for help?”

The alpha surged to his feet, but at the touch of Emma’s hand on his arm, he sank back to the chair he’d vacated. Micah understood his brother’s anger. He’d experienced it himself. “She wanted to take care of it on her own.”

Drake’s temper lessened but didn’t dissipate entirely. “She not only risks her well-being, but also that of the Society.”

“I don’t think she sees it that way,” Micah pointed out. “Only an attempt at corporate espionage or some such.”

“Regardless”—Drake slashed a hand through the air—“if someone is close enough to harm her company, then he’s close enough to discover all of her secrets. What happens if we’re discovered? We can’t risk it.”

Emma, already dressed for bed in a blue silk robe, grabbed Drake’s hand and squeezed. “Relax, honey. It would take more than a few e-mails for Celeste’s shifter side to come to light. She’s kept it hidden this long. I don’t think she’ll risk everything now. Besides, what else would you do? Lock her in the cellar?”

Micah admired the way his tiny sister-in-law stood up to his oldest brother. She was exactly what Drake needed in his life, warmth and light to match his darker moods. He consulted his watch and winced when he saw it was nearing one o’clock. “I’m going to be worthless at tomorrow night’s show.”

Drake’s sharp gaze raked his face. “Birmingham, right?”

Micah nodded. After the brief stop in Alabama, their tour would take them farther west before circling back to the northeast. “We leave in the morning. While I’m gone, can you look after her?”

If Drake thought his question odd, he didn’t say so. “When we get to Savannah, I don’t plan to let her out of my sight.” He glanced at his wife of a few short weeks. “We’ll invite her to the beach house for the month. It’s not unusual for her to vacation on Tybee.”

Perhaps unexpected now that Drake was married, but Micah thought it best not to bring it up. Besides, it put Celeste somewhere safe until the tour ended. “I’ll come as soon as we wrap up in Nashville. Our last show is the twenty-second.”

Emma tightened the sash on her robe and shivered as if she were cold. “Am I the only one who thinks it odd that she came to you?”

Micah managed a laugh for appearance’s sake. He ignored his brother, who continued to watch him with his eagle-eyed gaze. “Lord knows why. Maybe she didn’t want to bug you guys while you’re still honeymooning.”

“Humph.” Emma’s face showed more than she let on. “Or there’s another reason.”

There was no worse fate than having his family discover his unusual obsession with Drake’s beta. He and Celeste had done a piss-poor job of hiding their spats during his sister’s wedding in June, so perhaps their relationship was already suspicious. Regardless, he planned to keep a tight lid on Celeste’s additional interest in him.

He stood, faking a yawn to distract Emma from her musings. “I should get some sleep.”

Drake got to his feet and clamped a palm on Micah’s shoulder. “I’ll call you in the morning before we leave. Take care.”

Micah hesitated a second but gave into impulse and stepped forward to hug his big brother. Despite their differences he’d never doubted his sibling’s love for him. “Thanks, Drake.”

“No problem.” Drake patted his back before they separated. “We’ll find out who’s behind this.”

Long after leaving his brother’s suite, thoughts crowded Micah’s mind. It was hell knowing Celeste was only a few floors away. Memories of her long, lithe body and passionate nature created havoc in his carefully constructed world. She’d looked hot in her leather outfit, no doubt about it. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to envision fucking her while she wore nothing but those ridiculous red heels.

He rolled over and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Three o’clock. He groaned and rolled back over, tossing an arm over his eyes. Shit, sleep was impossible when the woman of his dreams had just admitted she wanted him and was in the same hotel. He wanted her now, no alcohol clouding their judgment, no fear of being caught.

He could have her too. That was the damnable truth of the matter. He held back out of…what? Insecurity? Fear? Pride? The truth wasn’t evident anymore, suppressed under years of pretending he disliked her. He’d wanted Celeste for half his life, never imagining he could have her. He’d thought that night in June was an aberration, a one-time fantasy they’d pretend had never happened.

Would it have changed matters if he’d known she wanted him too? How could he have competed with Drake, the perfect shifter who’d lay down his life for his family? Despite what she said, had Drake not married Emma, Celeste wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t beg him to protect her or become her lover.

Frustration mounted and ripped a growl from him. He’d never wanted this, never wanted to be so torn up over a woman. Once his music career cooled, he’d planned to find a female wolf and settle down, sire a new Randolph or two. Not because the Society willed it but because he wanted a family. A real one. Not one created for the sole purpose of continuing his bloodlines.

He kicked off the high-thread-count sheet and exposed his nude body to the air conditioning. His skin prickled with the cold, but it did little to soften his erection. Jesus, would he ever get over his obsession with her? It had to be unhealthy to be in a state of constant arousal around her. Even now, he could recall the rose scent of her, and it sent another rush of blood straight to his cock.

“Micah?”

At first, he thought he imagined her voice, but it was difficult to ignore the firm knock on the door that followed. He closed his eyes and gathered what little of his self-control remained before rolling to a sit and reaching for his boxers. He pulled the plaid material up his legs and left them sitting low on his hips, enough to hint at modesty, but not enough to hide his erection. She’d showed up at his room at past three in the morning. She deserved to be treated to an eyeful.

He crossed the room, undid the dead bolt, and yanked the door open. Celeste stood before him, still dressed in the clothes she’d worn earlier. He tightened his grip on the door handle and prayed for patience. “What is it?”

She appeared unsure of herself, not a common occurrence. “I can’t sleep.”

He dropped his forehead against the door. “That makes two of us.”

“Can I come in?”

It was a mistake, but he ignored his self-protective instincts and opened the door enough to allow her entrance. She brushed past him, the familiar scent of her hair and skin wrapping around his heart like a noose and choking him in tiny tendrils of need. “Celeste…”

She’d reached the center of the room, but she pivoted to face him and held up a staying hand. “Before you say anything, give me a chance to explain. I was drunk. I can’t deny it. Drunker than I’ve ever been in my life. It wasn’t for the reason you suspected. I didn’t drink to hide my sorrow at losing Drake. He never mattered. Not in that way. He was the alpha. I respected him, but I never desired him. I got drunk that night to fight my feelings for you.” He made a sound, and she continued without missing a beat, “Scoff if you wish, but that’s the God’s honest truth. I wanted you, Micah. You were there, all ridiculously good-looking, and I took a chance and threw myself at you.”