Read Lycan on the Edge: Broken Heart Book 13 Online
Authors: Michele Bardsley
Trent smiled ruefully.
Despite her strong reaction to him, Trent knew
Sophie suspected him of some chicanery. She
wouldn’t be pleased with his false pretenses.
Besides, Trent sensed Sophie was not a one-night
stand kind of woman. He suspected she wasn’t
even a have-an-affair kind of woman. No, Sophie
Lennox had an invisible sign that read “For Long
Term Commitment Only.”
He supposed that was a boon, in a way,
because they would need each other for a while. In
these modern times, werewolves were not
superstitious, but some were old enough to
remember the Alberich, and his own sordid tale.
He winced as he thought of his wife, Laura, gone
almost a century now. He’d wished for his own
death for nearly a decade after hers. But as the
years passed, he’d been able to let go. Being
without her no longer hurt. And there lay a
conundrum. If she’d been his true mate, he
wouldn’t have gotten over her at all. He’d
witnessed the way Damian loved Kelsey, and it
was not the same as with Damian’s former wife.
Granted that had been an arranged marriage. Yet,
Kelsey and Damian were connected at a soul-deep
level. So, on top of the guilt that he’d failed to
protect Laura was this new burden: That she had
not been his true mate.
Trent turned away from those painful thoughts,
and refocused on Sophie. If there had been another
werewolf like him, someone who could help take
his pain, would he have accepted the help?
Sophie’s trauma had been different from his own.
Surely her pain was something she longed to let go.
He hoped the moment to tell her about his true
purpose and his psychic healing abilities would
come sooner than later.
Trent pounded the pillow again, and gave up
trying to fluff it.
Sleep would not come easy tonight. He rolled
off the bed and moved to the window, looking out
into the backyard. The branches of a huge oak tree
rose to meet the night sky; its leafy foliage blocked
part of the glittering stars. The creak of the tire-
swing rope made him look down. Sophie clung to
the tire, her laughter soft as she twirled around and
around, her ponytail whipping about. She wore a
shirt and jeans, her feet bare. Her enticing long
legs stretched out, and then she grasped the top of
the tire and leaned back.
His heart lurched. He watched her, envying the
damn tire every time she scooted her sweet little
bottom forward and back.
He couldn’t resist her. He told himself this was
the most relaxed he’d ever seen her, and would be
a good time to try and reach her.
But the truth was, he just wanted to be near her.
He dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top
and went outside barefoot. October was chilly in
Oklahoma, but werewolves ran hot.
Too hot.
He approached her and asked, “Need a push?”
“Oh!”
He
barely
registered
Sophie’s
startled
expression when the tire swung around, bringing
her fabulous legs into brutal contact with his all
too sensitive groin. Pain exploded. He bent over,
his breath leaving his body in a strangled whoosh.
“I’m sorry,” cried Sophie. She extracted
herself from the swing and hovered at his side,
patting his back.
“Do you want to sit down?”
“No,” he groaned, working hard not to vomit.
“Let me die in peace.”
“Oh, Trent. I didn’t mean to.” Obviously
distressed, she moved to stand in front of him and
rubbed his shoulders. “What can I do?”
The pain eventually receded to a dull ache, and
Trent slowly straightened. Thank God she hadn’t
had more momentum, or he’d be worried about the
ability to make werewolf babies. He looked down
at her. Her eyes were filled with remorse and
concern. She continued rubbing his shoulders. He
captured her hands and pressed them to his chest.
“That’s not where it hurts.”
She sharply inhaled as she glanced at the front
of his shorts. “Well, I’m not rubbing anything down
there.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t intend for you to,
Sophie.” But he wouldn’t have stopped her if she’d
wanted to give it a try.
Her hands felt small and warm under his. His
heart pounded triple time, and his throat felt dry.
Moonlight trickled through the oak’s foliage, but it
barely penetrated the cocoon of darkness. He felt
like he and Sophie were the only two people in the
world. She looked at him, a question in her eyes.
Her hands grew restless, but his fingertips stroked
the soft skin, and she stilled.
Don’t do this,
Trent, whispered Logic.
It’ll
complicate everything.
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
You are so stupid,
hissed Logic.
She stared at him. “What?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”
Trent looped her arms around his neck, relieved
when she left them there. He grasped her waist,
hands trembling. He felt close to something
important.
World-changing.
Sophie.
The sweet weight of her breasts pressed
against him, and despite his recent “accident,” his
body stirred at her nearness. She looked up at him,
almost shyly, and he watched the play of emotions
on her face. Trent lowered his head, his mouth only
a whisper away, and waited, hoping Sophie would
decide his lips were worthy of hers.
SOPHIE WAS DESPERATELY tempted by Trent’s
magnificent mouth. She was afraid of the rapid
pounding of her heart, afraid of the wobbly feel of
her knees, afraid of the attraction to the handsome
man before her asking so sweetly for a kiss.
She closed the distance and brushed her lips
against his.
Electricity jolted straight through her right
down to her toes. Her arms tightened around his
neck, and he took the hint, drawing her more
deeply into his embrace. His lips took hers again
and again until he split the seam of her mouth with
his tongue, and started a dance that made heart
pour through her. Her fingers slid through his soft,
wavy hair and she pressed even harder against
him. She felt his heart thundering against her own.
Pheromones thickened the air, the musky scent
of their mutual need building their desire to new,
desperate fiery heights.
Trent regained control first.
He pulled away, just a little, his chest heaving
as he tried to steady his breathing. He had a dazed
look in his eyes and his lips held the plumpness of
a mouth well-kissed. If she needed any other
evidence of his desire, she needed only to focus on
the thick length of his cock bulging through his
shorts and against her stomach.
Sophie followed his lead and attempted to get
her hormones under control.
She focused on the wind-strewn leaves
cavorting on the ground. Sophie watched their
dance, slightly mesmerized, as she tried to calm the
jitters running through her.
“Sophie?” Trent’s deep voice sounded both
reassuring and maddening sensual.
She faced him. “I don’t think I’m ready for this.
Whatever this is. I’m…just…you know.” She
frowned and rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t
making any sense. The man even affected her
sentence structure.
“I’m not sorry we kissed,” said Trent. “But I’ll
back off. I want you to trust me.” He brushed a
loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Do you
believe I want to help you?”
She gazed up at him. Unable to discern the
emotions on his shadowed features, she decided he
sounded sincere. Sophie nodded slowly. “I believe
that. But trust is another issue.”
“I understand.”
He let her go, and stepped away. She
immediately missed his warmth, not to mention the
feeling of being wanted. Her feelings skittered
close to the edge of true caring.
Suddenly, a low throb started in her head. She
rubbed her temples. The ache sharpened, drawing
a hiss of pain from her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Headache.”
The pain increased, nearly buckling her knees.
Trent steadied her. “Do you have headaches
often?”
“No, I—” Sudden fear froze her. Eyes wide,
she looked at him. His gaze darkened with
concern. “The last time I felt this way, the Alberich
attacked.” Panic rioted through her. “No. Not in
Broken Heart. We’re safe here. Right?” She started
shaking, her teeth clacking together.
He placed his fingertips on her temples. He
looked at her, his expression calm, his gaze steady.
“Look at me, Sophie.”
She obeyed his gentle command and stared
deeply into his eyes.
“Stay with me,” he said very, very softly.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “Right here.”
Sophie felt warmth where Trent’s fingers
rested on her scalp. The warmth turned into a
pleasant tingling, and she felt the panic pulled from
her like air escaping from a balloon. As she stared
at Trent, his warm brown eyes turned a fiery gold,
pure and bright, and as every second passed, she
felt calmer.
Then Trent closed his eyes and let go of her
head, stepping back. She watched gold tears leak
from his eyes and wiggle like spastic worms over
his body. They sank into Trent’s flesh, lighting his
skin briefly before disappearing all together.
“What just happened?” she asked.
Trent opened his eyes, and he looked
exhausted. “I think you’ll sleep better now.”
“Are you some kind of magical werewolf?”
He laughed. “No. Not really. I have an ability
to absorb pain.” He swayed before steadying
himself. “I need to rest now.”
She had questions, a lot of questions, but Trent
appeared pale and utterly exhausted. Her worry for
him stopped her from pummeling him for answers.
Her concern grew as she saw him sway. She
reached out and grabbed his shoulder, trying to
steady him. “Are you all right?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” he
said. “I forgot how it felt.”
“Do you want me to help you up the stairs?
“I’ll be fine.” He took her hand off his shoulder
and lifted it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Good
night, Sophie.”
“Good night, Trent.”
He turned and walked slowly toward the
garage, obviously in pain, as he limped up the
stairs. She wanted to catch up to him, to help him
somehow, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t
want her help. There was a big part of her that was
completely freaked out about watching gold tears
swim into his skin. But she felt better. Unnaturally
so.
What the hell had Nana and Queen Patsy
cooked up?
And who…or what…was Trent Clayton?
CHAPTER FOUR
THE PHONE RANG. Sophie groggily opened one
eye. It rang again, and she groaned. She’d slept
well for the first night since, well, ever. Whatever
mojo Trent used to take her pain, she was grateful.
Weirded out, but totally appreciative.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
She grabbed the receiver. “What?”
“Sophie! How are you, darling?”
“Brianna. It’s...” Sophie tried to find her cell
phone and check the time but soon gave up.
“Morning.”
“It’s almost brunch, darling. Come to Zerina’s
and catch up. I have mimosas.”
Sophie usually enjoyed Brianna’s impromptu