In Heat (In Heat Shapeshifter Romance Series #1) (6 page)

He smiled, but it didn't show in his eyes. They were dark and empty.

She watched him walk down the hall, taking in his build and how hot he looked even from the back. He disappeared into the meeting room and she sighed, her shoulders heaving with it.

“You're definitely out of spirits,” Simon said as he walked past. He turned to look at her, a smile still plastered on his face.

She shrugged and lied without flinching. “Dinner last night with the folks. You know it always drains me.”

It sounded like a perfectly good excuse for her current miserable mood. Why hadn't she just said yes? He'd practically begged her to have dinner with him. No other man on the planet had even asked her to dinner, let alone begged her.

She went straight to the meeting room and grabbed her bag, not daring to look at Erik. He was close to her as he packed his things away in his briefcase. It would be so easy for her to just whisper ‘yes' at him.

Her heart beat sickeningly fast in her throat and before she managed to find her voice, he'd walked out the door.

She closed her eyes a moment and gathered herself. It was probably for the best. She really did need this job. The voice at the back of her head said she needed him more.

“Shall we?” Simon said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

He was still smiling. What the hell did he find to smile about all the bloody time?

She nodded and followed him, glad of the fresh air as she stepped out onto the pavement in front of the building. It lifted her spirits a little, making the world seem a bit brighter. She told herself that she'd see Erik on Monday, and Tuesday.

And then he'd be out of her life.

She frowned at the pavement, staring at the cracks as she walked beside Simon towards his car. She couldn't let Erik just walk in her life like that and then disappear.

A door opened in front of her and she realised that they'd reached Simon's car. She glanced at it. It was nothing short of a status symbol—a shiny red Jaguar XK. It was always so highly polished too, enough that she could see herself in it.

She stared at herself.

What did Erik see in that?

Lank hair hung around her shoulders, dull eyes staring back at her.

But he must see something in her. The way he'd touched her in the lift. The gentle caress of his fingers against her neck and his cool breath teasing her skin. The reassuring words. The fact he'd told her that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. All of it made her believe that he liked her, that he saw something other than a plain nearly-thirty woman when he looked at her.

The car horn sounded and she smiled at Simon. Slipping into the passenger seat beside him, she buckled up and put her bag on her lap. She wondered what kind of car Erik drove.

It was probably black.

Black was sensual.

Judging by the way he acted and looked, the car was bound to be sleek, black and sexy, and have one hell of a purr.

Simon started the car.

“Man, you're miles away today.” He laughed across at her and turned the radio on.

She turned it down a little so she could hear herself think and then stared out of the window.

“Simon,” she said as they pulled out into the main flow of traffic.

“Hmm?”

They stopped at a set of traffic lights. A taxi tried to squeeze up the inside, using the bus lane to hop the queue. She hoped the traffic cameras would catch it.

“What is it you've heard about Erik Blackwell?” She didn't dare look at him, but she knew he was looking at her.

The light changed to green and he put his foot down on the accelerator.

“Just rumours, nasty idle speculation, that kind of dirty gossip.” He was grinning when she looked at him. Sometimes she didn't know why they were friends. He was always slipping between acting like some lad, annoyingly snide and definitely conceited, and being just a nice guy.

She wished he'd be more of a nice guy and less of a lad. Since last summer, he'd been acting stranger and stranger around her, as though he thought she'd be impressed by the new car and the new look, and his new irritating attitude.

“Like what?” she said nonchalantly, acting as though it was nothing more than a passing interest.

“Like women he's been going out with mysteriously getting hurt for one thing. There's always some kind of accident. Mountaineering, hiking or riding...always...and it's not just your average statistics here. It seems like every girl who has visited the family home has been injured in some way or another. One of them was even mauled.”

She didn't like the glee with which Simon said that last sentence. She frowned at the dashboard.

“Are you sure it's him?” Her heart was threatening to jump into her throat if Simon said he was definitely sure all the stories were pinned to Erik.

“Well,” Simon said, holding the word so long that she got the feeling before he even finished his sentence that he couldn't prove any of what he'd heard. “It could be his brother I suppose. I hadn't realised he had one. Everyone just refers to the person as Blackwell.”

Erik didn't strike her as the kind of man who would want to be referred to as just his last name. It sounded rakish. Definitely the kind of thing Alistair would call himself.

“Erik seems nice enough,” she said with a shrug, casual as anything.

Simon laughed. “Erik now is it?”

She blushed and watched the little green arrow on the dashboard in front of Simon blinking as he indicated and then turned right.

“He told me to call him it.”

“Did he now?” Simon turned the car again and then stopped at another set of traffic lights. He leaned towards her. “Listen, Kim, don't get involved. You'll only end up hurt too.”

“I'm not so sure,” she said and the car moved off again. She was glad Simon wasn't close to her any more. She'd had quite enough of men invading her personal space uninvited today. She watched the car in front of them. “He asked me to dinner.”

“He did what?”

The car jerked to a halt. Simon was suddenly very close to her. He looked mortified.

“I hope you said no. He's a client.”

“I said no. I'm not a child. I know the rules, Simon.” She looked out the passenger window and saw they were only a few doors down from her apartment. She undid the seatbelt. “Thanks for the lift.”

His hand on her arm stopped her from getting out. She looked at it, and then up into his eyes, frowning.

“I'm sorry...just a little concerned that this guy is out to seduce you or something. I don't want to see you get hurt,” he whispered, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. His brows rose and he released her arm. “Can I come in?”

She rubbed her temples.

“Not tonight. I've got such a stinking headache. I just want a soak and some decent sleep.” She smiled and got out of the car.

He managed a polite wave when she held her hand up, but he didn't look at all happy. She hoped he wasn't going to go and tell Laura about what she'd said. She didn't need Laura getting on her case.

Slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she took her keys out and walked up the steps to her apartment. She opened the door and went in, hurrying up the stairs as fast as she could manage.

A glass of wine, some good food, a little television and a long hot soak. That would make everything better.

She remembered the feeling of Erik's fingers as he massaged her shoulders. Maybe she should soak and drink first, have dinner and a movie alone later. She could use some thinking time.

There was a lot to think about.

Walking into her apartment, she dumped her bag down and closed the door. She accidentally kicked her bag and gritted her teeth in frustration when it fell over, scattering some of its contents across the hall. She crouched and put them back in, stopping when she saw the contract. She pulled it out and stared at it. Absently flicking the latches on the door, she thought about the way that both Alistair and Erik had acted when she'd mentioned the paragraph. She walked into her kitchen, flicking through the pages until she found it, and read it while she opened the refrigerator.

Taking out a bottle of rosé wine, she put it on the side and then took a glass out of the cupboard. She placed the contract down beside the bottle and read the paragraph again as she uncorked the wine.

What kind of contract mentioned blood donations in it?

Especially blood donations for children. Did Alistair have children? If he did, she pitied them and their mother. She got the impression he only cared about himself.

She poured a large glass of wine and carried it with her through the lounge and into the bedroom. Staring at the word ‘blood', she wondered why both men had been so jumpy about it.

Alistair had hidden it better than Erik, but the vibe had still been there. Neither of them wanted anyone asking about it.

Would Erik have really talked about it if she'd gone out to dinner with him?

She placed the glass of wine down beside the bath and put the plug into the hole. Running the water, she stripped off and sat on the edge of the bath. She held her hand under the water, letting it run over her fingers and shifting them so it created a soothing patter against her skin. She stared at the contract.

He'd said that he'd tell her all about it and she believed him. He'd looked so desperate to make things up to her and that look he'd given her when she'd walked away with Simon, it was as though she'd broken his heart by refusing his offer.

And that feeling in the stairwell.

What was that? It wasn't just the usual involuntary shudder. She'd felt something, sensed something. She'd been drawn to looking up at the door. She'd wanted to go back to the roof and to Erik.

She shut the taps off when the bath was full and threw some bath salts in. Placing the contract down on the closed toilet seat, she gave it one last look and then turned away. She slid into the hot water, moaning as it instantly eased her muscles. It felt so good, almost as good as Erik's hands had felt in the lift. It had been no harmless massage. The way he'd touched her had been so sensual, electrifying. When he'd pulled her shirt open and smoothed it, caressing her bare flesh, she'd felt as though they had plummeted to their deaths at the bottom of the lift shaft and been whisked off to heaven.

She sighed and closed her eyes, focusing on the echo of his fingers against her skin and wishing he was here with her, naked in the tub. What she wouldn't give to have that happen.

Picking her wine up, she took a long sip and leaned her head back into the bath pillow behind her. She sighed and smiled as she thought about him.

What was he doing right now? Was he having dinner with someone else?

* * * *

Erik stared up at the sign above the restaurant. The Ivy. It was a perfect choice. An obvious one, too.

All the better for him though.

He walked in and ignored the woman at the front desk when he spotted his quarry. He headed straight for them. They looked up as he approached. A dark expression wiped the smile off their face.

A restaurant, and a busy one like The Ivy, was a perfect place for an altercation with his brother. Beautifully public. There was no way on Earth that Alistair would dare attack him in front of all these people.

He stormed towards him, ignoring the look the blonde woman sitting opposite his brother gave him. Stopping in front of Alistair, he stared hard into his eyes. His narrowed.

“Keep away from her.” Erik's voice was a deadly whisper.

Alistair smirked.

His date looked a little upset.

“Dear brother, I don't understand what you mean. It was purely business talk.” Alistair continued to smile. He leaned back into his chair, casually draping an arm over the back of it.

Erik could see in Alistair's eyes how flustered he was. They hid nothing. There was anger and violence in their yellowing depths. He told himself that Alistair wouldn't dare change in front of all these people. The anger wasn't about the accusation, or interruption, it was because he was dragging this into the public eye. The paparazzi were outside, lining the windows. There was no doubt that their argument would get a mention in tomorrow's papers.

“It's no use lying to me, Alistair. I can smell it all over you.” Erik hardened his look.

Alistair stood, straightened and gave him a look of pure arrogance. The whole room was staring now. Hushed.

They were probably panting for a fight to break out, but Erik wasn't going to let it get that far. He was tired of his brother's attempts to rule him. It was time that Alistair realised that he wasn't just younger than himself, he was weaker too.

“You took the company from me,” Alistair snarled.

“I didn't.” Erik straightened to his full height. He was only a couple of inches taller than Alistair but it was enough to show dominance over him. “It was mother's to give on her death. I don't even want the bloody company, but I'm damned if you're going to take everything from me.”

Alistair grinned. “Oh, but I will.”

Erik didn't like the snide tone of Alistair's voice and the glint in his eyes. Erik stepped towards him, glaring down at him.

“You touch her,” he whispered in a low, threatening tone. “You lay one finger on her...and I'll kill you.”

Alistair still grinned. If anything, it got wider.

“Who said anything about laying
fingers
on her?” he said.

Erik growled quietly. He knew all about Alistair's sordid sexual deviancy. It was perverse, changing on women halfway through having sex with them.

“You're a sick bastard, Alistair. Keep away from her. I mean it.” He steeled his jaw, frowning at his brother.

Alistair's grin became a sly smile, his head cocking slightly to one side.

“Give me the company,” he said, his sweetly spoken words not covering the contempt in his eyes.

“Give me the house,” Erik retorted.

“No,” Alistair said flatly and then paused. His look turned thoughtful and then became dark. “You know she only gave it to you because she wanted to spite father. It's your fault she hated him so much.”

Erik growled, louder this time. Alistair flinched slightly under the threat, but recovered quickly. If Alistair wanted to air the family's dirty laundry in public, then Erik was going to make sure that he came out on top. He was tired of bowing to Alistair, choosing the easy way out. It was time his brother knew the truth.