In Heat (In Heat Shapeshifter Romance Series #1) (4 page)

She handed him his coffee and then looked at the other one she'd poured. She'd forgotten to ask Erik how he took it. She glanced over at him and was struck by the look he was giving the man opposite him. There was so much anger in it, so much hatred, that it caught her off guard. Why was he entering into a contract with someone he clearly despised?

She grabbed a couple of the little wrapped sugar cubes and put them onto the saucer along with a spoon. Carrying it across the room, she cursed the way the spoon rattled against the china cup, betraying her nerves.

She set it down in front of Erik and then sat in her seat, managing a real smile when he looked across at her.

“I forgot to ask how you took it. I'm terribly sorry. My mind is all over the place today. Hope you like it black.” She silently berated herself for being so casual with him, and reminded herself that just because he'd given her a mind numbing orgasm in her dream last night, it didn't mean she knew him well enough to be so informal.

“I like it black,” he almost purred the words at her and her heart leapt into her throat. He leaned closer, resting an elbow on the arm of his chair, and bringing his mouth to her ear. He whispered, “Black is such a sensual colour, don't you think?”

She swallowed and nodded dumbly as he withdrew back into his seat. She stared at the table and then at his hands as he stirred the coffee. It was mesmerising to watch the spoon going around and around. Before she knew it, her thoughts had slipped to the way his fingers had teased her like that, circling and squeezing.

He placed the spoon back on the saucer and she squeaked when he touched her arm.

“Kim?” he said in a low, intimate voice.

She nodded again, lost in his eyes.

“I think you're wanted.”

Her eyes widened. She was wanted? Her temperature rose to that of the sun and her mouth went dry. His fingers slipped from her arm, brushing it lightly and making her even hotter.

He looked past her.

She turned and found Laura standing at the end of the table with her hands on her hips.

“Maybe you should get yourself a coffee, Kim,” Laura said in a sharp tone. “I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes.”

Kim blinked several times and then left her seat. She went to the coffee urn, pouring herself as much as would safely fit into the cup and loading it with sugar. She thought about adding milk but Erik's voice echoed in her head, telling her how sensual black was. She closed her eyes and squeezed her thighs together when a delicious ache settled there.

No milk.

Black was sensual.

She'd always liked black.

Sitting back down, she opened the file in front of her and tried to concentrate on her notes. It was impossible when she could smell Erik's aftershave, and could feel the heat of him so temptingly close to her.

“Shall we begin?” Laura said, her voice shattering the daydream Kim had been slipping into.

The lawyer opposite her stood and cleared his throat.

“My name is Lyle McConnaughy. I'm here to represent my client, Alistair Blackwell, in these proceedings.”

Her gaze moved immediately to the man sitting next to him. Alistair Blackwell? She turned to Erik.

“My brother,” he said casually, answering her unspoken question.

She frowned and looked back at the man. She could see the resemblance now. He had the same honey-coloured eyes, and same jaw line, but his lips were thinner and his hair was a warm sandy colour, almost strawberry blond.

He nodded at her, his eyes narrowing the tiniest amount and the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile that she swore was meant to be seductive. She dropped her gaze to her notes, frowned at them and then took a sip of her coffee. Her heart thundered.

It seemed Erik wasn't the only man who could fluster her with just a smile.

A thick wad of paper appeared in front of her. She stared at the first few lines, seeing Erik's name and that of his brother. Drawing it towards her, she wondered why he was entering into a contract with his brother and just what it was for.

The room hushed as everyone read through the contract. She noticed that the only people not reading their copy were Erik and his brother. They were staring at each other and she could feel the tension radiating off them.

She shifted her attention to the contract and scanned the first page, flicked through to the next, and then looked at it as a whole. There were at least forty pages, all jam-packed with what seemed to be paragraphs about asset sharing.

She was halfway through when lunch was announced. It passed by quickly, nothing more than a short break in which everyone milled around passing niceties. She excused herself and went to the toilet, desperate to freshen up. The temperature of the room was rising as the sun moved around to hit the courtyard. Everyone returned to reading the contract after lunch and before she knew it, she was almost three quarters of the way through it. The door opened and someone came in, announced that more food was on its way, and then disappeared again. She frowned at her watch. It was late afternoon.

Her gaze shifted back to the contract and stopped on the last paragraph she'd read.

It was about blood.

What kind of contract had a clause about blood in it?

She looked at Erik, torn between asking and not asking. She knew that this was meant to flow smoothly, no questions asked, just read the contract and let them sign it, but there was something very wrong about a contract between two parties that so evidently hated each other and a contract that mentioned blood.

Erik turned to look at her and then at the contract. She knew her finger was resting on the paragraph. She watched him read it, frown and then look at his brother and sigh.

“Finally...food,” Alistair said as the door opened. She looked across at him. He grinned at her. “I'm starved.”

Erik stood sharply. She stared at his right hand. It was clenched into a fist and shaking. She raised her eyes to his face and saw he was staring across the table at his brother. Her eyes moved to him. His brother was staring at her. There was a hunger in his eyes that unnerved her. She got the impression he wasn't starving for food.

Standing, she smiled when Erik looked at her, his eyes dark and saying things that she didn't dare believe. His reaction had nothing to do with the fact his brother had clearly come on to her. She was thankful for the distraction when Laura came over, nudging her out of the way so she could talk to Erik. The food was laid out on the table and she went to the coffee urn, desperate for another caffeine fix. Simon opened the doors onto the small garden and she took a deep breath when cooler air washed over her, waking her up and lifting the oppressively muggy air of the room.

She went to the balcony and sipped her coffee, grateful for a break from reading the contract and from sitting next to Erik. Being so close to him was too distracting. She just couldn't focus on her work when he was near her.

“There seemed to be something you didn't like in the contract,” an amused voice said and she felt someone step up close beside her.

Really close.

She looked up into the eyes of Alistair. He smiled broadly and devoured a small neat triangular sandwich in one bite.

“Paragraph 157,” she said, watching his expression closely.

He cocked a brow, the smile remaining fixed on his face, and then leaned closer to her. He smelt like sin—dark and enticing.

“Wouldn't you like to know about that one,” he whispered, his breath cool against her face.

She frowned. There was definitely something not right about this contract. Alistair grinned and licked his teeth. There was definitely something not right about him either.

“You're not supposed to talk to the opposing lawyer.” Erik's deep voice stirred her senses.

She turned to look at him at the same time as his brother did. His face was darker than midnight.

“Oh...I didn't know,” Alistair said innocently and took hold of her hand. He shook it, running his other hand over the back of it and covering it completely. He held onto it. She frowned again. “It's been nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other soon.”

He walked away and she stared at his back, confused and trying to figure out what he'd meant. She was going to be sitting across from him for the rest of the day and Tuesday too. Of course they'd be seeing each other. Or did he mean something else. He'd said they'd be seeing more of each other. Just how much more of her did he want to see?

She looked over at Erik. He was leaning against the railings, his eyes fixed on the garden below.

“What's paragraph 157 about?” she said, nervous about asking him. She had to know.

“You read it,” he said.

“But I don't understand it.”

He straightened, turned and frowned into the room. She presumed it was directed at his brother. She was surprised when he walked in, leaving her on the balcony. It made her feel cold, as though he was angry with her for some reason, rather than his brother.

She followed him in and placed her cup down on the side.

“Do you have somewhere I can smoke?” Erik said, close by her elbow.

“There's the roof.” She pointed upwards and felt a bit stupid when he smiled. It wasn't as though he wouldn't know where the roof was. They were generally on top of buildings.

“I can take you there,” Laura said with a sweet smile.

He shook his head. “Kim looks hot.”

Kim raised her brows when he turned to look at her.

He smiled and she blushed.

“I think she could use the air, and maybe we could discuss that paragraph.”

K
im toyed with the cuff of her jacket and then removed it. She folded it neatly and slung it over her arm. The lift was taking forever to come.

Erik shifted foot to foot beside her. Her gaze crept across to his shoes. If she had to guess, she'd say Armani. He was wearing black again. At least now she knew why he liked the colour. It was sensual.

She swallowed at that thought. What kind of client was so open with his lawyers? All the clients she'd ever met were formal, high-power businessmen who wouldn't have given her the time of day if they'd met on the street. But not Erik. From the contract, she could see he had money, and not just a little of it. Why was he so different?

“Sorry it's taking so long,” she said, filling the silence.

He shrugged and smiled. His expression could easily have been taken for saying that he didn't care, but she didn't let herself believe what her heart was saying to her. He'd just seen how warm she'd been in the stifling heat of the meeting room and that's why he'd asked her to go with him.

The lift pinged.

The doors clunked open.

She swallowed hard again and waited for him to step in before following him.

Turning, she pressed the button for the top floor and breathed deep as the doors closed. She was all right. She took deep breaths, telling herself that everything was going to be fine. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself in a larger space than the tiny cramped metal box that was now raising her up floors while leaving a perilously large empty shaft below for them to fall into when the cables snapped.

Her heart began to race.

It didn't help that she could feel Erik close behind her, just a little off to her right.

Her hands shook.

This was stupid. She shouldn't have mentioned the lift. She should have told him they'd have to take the stairs.

She looked up and swore she could hear the cables rattling as the lift eased jerkily past a floor.

Then her worst nightmare happened.

It stopped.

She stared wide-eyed at the walls of the lift, trying to sense if it was still moving, desperate to convince herself it was.

She smiled shakily over her shoulder at Erik.

He frowned.

“It does this a lot,” she squeaked and then cleared her throat, trying not to let him see her fear.

He stepped towards her, cool and collected and seemingly not at all bothered by the fact that they were trapped in a oppressively hot metal box about to plummet to their untimely deaths.

And all she could think about was kissing him, because if she was going to die, she wanted to know for real what it felt like before she went. She'd die happy then.

He brushed against her, pressing the alarm button, and then stepped back. A small squeaking noise escaped her throat again. He smiled reassuringly, as though he'd seen how scared she was.

“It'll move again soon. You'll see,” he said in a deep, calm voice.

She nodded and latched onto those words and the sound of his voice. It soothed her for a moment.

And then the lift moved.

It wasn't so much movement as a shudder. Metal rattled above her. Her heart sped into overdrive.

Her chest felt tight as she struggled to breathe normally. She gasped at air, but it only dried her throat out, making it impossible to breathe. She looked at Erik, her eyes wide, and her whole body trembling as she panicked.

Any moment now, they were going to die.

“Are you all right?” he said, cocking his head to one side, looking concerned.

She nodded but then it turned into a shake of her head.

“I don't like lifts.” She managed to squeeze the words out. Her voice sounded impossibly tiny and tight in her ears.

“You should have said.” He pressed the alarm button again. Several times. “We could have taken the stairs.”

Too late now, she thought. She grabbed onto the wall when the lift shuddered again.

“It gets stuck all the time,” she said, more to calm herself than inform him. “All the time. They're always getting engineers out to fix it. It's so old see...probably as old as the bloody building. Fuck.” Her grip on the wall tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the long drop and the fact she was going to die without ever kissing the man in the stupid metal coffin with her. “Oh my God...oh my God...I should have said something. It's always getting stuck. Always. Oh God.”

Warm hands were on her shoulders and she jumped. His fingers tightened around her, holding her, making her heart beat quicker and her breathing worsen.