Authors: Lynde Lakes
She gestured for him to sit down. He pointed to his soiled
clothing and remained standing. She noticed he’d removed his shoes. Even in
stocking feet, he was well over six foot tall and loomed over her. “Would you
like something cold to drink?” He shook his head. “All right then. May we just
talk a moment? I like get to know the people working on our property. Do you
have a valid contractor’s license, Hugh?
“Yes, ma’am. I just updated it recently. Mr. Lamont made a
copy of it.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m a Californian. Been working in underground tunnels for
the last few years. I specialize in electrical, wall structure, and
construction safety.”
“Great, we want to keep everyone safe.” She detected a
feral scent about him. “Do you have any animals, Hugh?”
He grinned. “I have a dog, part wolf, part hound and a
great companion.”
Being an animal lover was a plus in his favor.
“I can handle the job, Mrs. Lamont. I’ve studied the plans
on your place and feel I know them as well as the architect who built this
unique structure. And I’ve put together a crew from qualified men who, like me,
were out of work and eager to prove themselves. They all have families to feed
and are willing to do whatever it takes to feed them.”
The words
whatever it takes
leapt out at her. “Even
if it’s dishonest?”
“No, ma’am.” His soft gray eyes looked hurt. “I’m a Godly
man who cannot disappoint my guardian angel.”
She held back a laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, ma’am. I know talking about God and guardian angels
sounds strange coming from a construction boss, but I was raised by a mother
who set standards for me that I’d rather die than break. Is Mr. Lamont unhappy
with my credentials or my work?”
“No. He thinks you’re fine. I just want to be sure my girls
will be safe.”
He looked relieved. “They will be, ma’am. I’ll personally
see to it.”
The passion in his voice made her believe him.
“If there’s nothing else, I should get back to my men. I
like to keep a tight rein on the job so things get done right.”
Angela nodded and gestured for him to go. She couldn’t help
smiling. He was another odd duck, but in spite of herself, she liked him.
By the end of the week, they found an acceptable nanny, a
gravelly voiced ex-prison matron who resembled a heavy-weight wrestler. Her
silver, manly haircut gave her a severe appearance, but the girls weren’t
intimidated. They loved her Irish brogue, her sunshine and quirky personality,
knowledge of books, and her stories about her family home in Ireland.
Angela and Damon loved her impeccable references and that
she looked capable of handling anyone who threatened their little girls.
As the weeks passed, the police couldn’t find any evidence
to pin Dudley’s murder on Damon. After Angela gave her statement, swearing that
Damon wasn’t the person who arranged Dudley’s beating, they filed the case in
the unsolved category and stopped coming around. Angela had only wanted them to
quit trying to convict Damon, not to put the case on the back burner. The
result was, the man who’d killed Dudley went free. This was unacceptable as he
was obviously the instigator behind Valerie’s kidnapping and could strike
again.
Angela still felt uneasy about the mysterious tests going
on in the lab. She tried to stay positive about them, knowing they were somehow
connected to Damon’s desire to find a cure for their daughters.
In spite of all the unsolved mysteries surrounding their
family, life settled into a routine, and she was glad she’d given Damon a
chance. He’d always been a devoted father, but now he was almost obsessively
so. There was never any doubt that she and the girls were his main focus. He
ran his business from home, only traveling to his distant main office site on
Mondays to handle the operations that required hands on attention.
Unfortunately, the time he spent in the lab caused a problem between them. He
always acted agitated after going down there. Every time she mentioned moving
the lab away from their home, he insisted they were too close to a
break-through, and that moving the operation would bring their tests to a halt.
By the time the construction was completed, Damon and Hugh
had bonded into close friends. Angela and the girls liked Hugh as well so she didn’t
object that he spent a lot of time around the mansion, playing games and
sometimes making repairs without being asked. He was a family man type who fit
right in. He loved the girls and watched over them like a mother hen. What he
needed, she decided, was his own family, so she introduced him to Kat. They
seemed to hit it off. Kat turned up the heat, touching him seductively at every
opportunity. But she failed to entice him to ask her out on a real date. This
was a frustrating challenge to Kat. It intrigued and drove her nuts for him to
treat her so special without wanting more. She’d seldom, if ever, had a man say
no to her. After months of inaction on Hugh’s part, she accepted a ring from
Deeto. Angela thought the gesture was to prompt Hugh into action. It didn’t
work.
* * * *
Her own love affair with her husband was stronger than
ever. On their fifth wedding anniversary, he told her to get dressed up and
meet him at the renovated and very classy Mission Hotel, one of his latest
acquisitions. The moment she entered the lobby, she spied him coming toward
her. Although he looked every bit the successful business owner, he had a far
more seductive roll to play tonight—her dashing
lothario.
And he was definitely up to the role, decked out like a
macho movie idol at The Oscars. The black fedora angled low over his forehead
gave him a mysterious quality. And he was as devastating as ever in his
Italian-silk black suit, white shirt, and red tie. Without taking her eyes off
him, she sensed that every female within viewing distance was ogling him. It
made her proud rather than jealous. After all, she was the one he’d fallen for
and had even been willing to give up his life for. In a carpet-eating wide,
feral stride, he joined her. He lifted her hand high, twirled her around, and
gave a low whistle. She’d worn her backless little black cocktail dress with an
onyx beaded bodice and a modest slit up the side of the skirt. On her feet, she
wore strappy high-heeled sandals sprinkled with glossy beads that matched the
bodice of her dress. He beamed. She knew he’d be pleased; the outfit was one of
his favorites.
He escorted her up to the penthouse terrace where he had
pre-ordered a special dinner. Snappy waiters in white jackets served them with
a flourish. After dessert of chocolate mousse cake, he handed her a black
velvet box with Tiffany’s emblazoned in gold letters. With goose bumps of
excitement rising on her arms, she opened the box. It was a white- gold
bracelet encircled with delicate diamonds. “Oh, Damon, it’s beautiful.”
After she ooed and ahhed over it, she shoved the gift she’d
chosen, with much thought and love, shyly toward him. The little white box with
a red velvet ribbon contained merely a three-by-five photo. “You’ll have to
wait until we get home to see the real thing, but the set is a replica of the
chess set used by the world’s top chess player, Antonio Lomita. Knights and
bishops are made of marble and the board is hand-carved insets of the finest
polished woods.”
“I’m blown away,” he said huskily. “The perfect gift from
my perfect wife.”
He came to her, drew her to her feet and into his arms.
Their bodies blended as he wrapped his male warmth around her. He brought his
mouth down on hers. His kiss tasted like rich coffee and chocolate. After a
kiss that made her knees weak, they toasted with a Napa Valley prime sparkling
champagne and danced to the music floating up from the terrace of the Garden
Room, a cocktail lounge just below the penthouse.
Swaying with his body pressed close to hers ignited fires,
and he danced her into the huge suite’s massive bedroom. She inhaled the scent
of dozens of fragrant pink roses. The king-sized bed, with turned down burgundy
silken sheets, was scattered with pink petals.
Damon danced her to the edge of bed. Cool silk brushed the
back of her knees. He stroked her arms, lowering the straps of her dress, his
hands warm and seductive. With a savagery that took her off guard, he pulled
her closer. Searing heat shot between them. There was a whisper of the zipper, and
then he lowered her dress to expose the strapless black bra, lacy garter belt,
and dark nylons. She stepped back slightly to allow him a better view of her
body delicately encased in the sheer lingerie—and to have enough space between
them for her to slowly slide off his red silk tie.
His eyes blazed with expectation. “I won’t disappoint you,”
she said in her sexiest purr.
She unbuttoned his shirt and roughly stripped it from him.
His heart was pounding almost as hard as hers. She smoothed his moist, steel-like
abs to calm him…and herself while trying to concentrate on his words. “Nor will
I, you,” he said, his low rumble driving her wild. “Happy anniversary, my love.
May we share all our days into eternity.” He caught her face between his hands
and gazed down into her eyes. “I know I’m still a controlling beast, but I do
try to curb it. Sometimes it’s a losing battle because that’s what men do when
they love a woman and the beautiful children she bore them.”
She smiled through the tears sliding down her face. “So
you’ve tried to convince me. Many times.”
His gaze deepened, and then his mouth covered hers,
stealing her breath, her sanity. Love and lust exploded inside her as he
increased the delicious pressure. His tongue probed and played sensual havoc
with her nerve endings. Beneath her lacy bra, her erect nipples begged for
attention as his bare chest pressed tighter against her breasts. His erection
pressed against her thigh, reminding her of the first time he’d stood naked
before her when they’d morphed from wolves into their human nudity after a
weird and provocative night in the dungeon together. Damon and the events of
that night had awakened new desires and feral lust. Now, for her girls’ sake,
she wanted to be with him without the fear and weirdness associated with that
night.
His mouth closed over hers once again, hot and demanding.
She clung to the dizzying euphoria as his lips trailed down to the swell of her
breasts.
“It’ll all work out,” he said in a ragged voice. “For us,
for our girls.” He lifted his head and hovered close, his warm breath mingling
with hers.
She pressed against him, inviting his passion, his power.
“I’m counting on it.”
They climbed onto the bed and faced each other, knees and
thighs branding one another’s flesh. Her core heated to a shivery liquid as
their kisses grew more frantic. He laid her back prone on silken sheets. Wild
with fever, she arched her back and thrust her hips forward, inviting him to
love her. She moaned in ecstasy as he explored the smooth contour of her belly
and the moist triangle of curly hair with his hands, his lips.
He lowered her to the pillow, kissing her, caressing her as
his hand slid between her thighs. She arched her hips to meet his seeking
fingers.
He slid on top of her. Eager for the hot hardness that
throbbed against her apex, she arched again. He thrust her hands above her head
and French kissed her for mind-numbing seconds. Her limbs went weak, her core,
receptive, quivery. She clung to him as he gently entered her and began the slow,
rhythmic dance of passion.
When she thought she couldn’t stand a second more of her
rising, agonizing desire, he released her hands. She quickly slid them down his
muscled chest and around his waist…then lower…and dug her fingers into his
hard, unyielding buttocks, crying out as he brought her to an unrivaled
pinnacle. She exploded again and again, shattering into so many pieces that she
knew she’d never be the same. When she thought she couldn’t take any more
crazed pleasure, Damon convulsed inside her and together they plunged over the
edge into a grateful release that left them weak, yet still clinging to one
another with their last ounce of strength.
Damon rolled off her and they lay side by side, breathing
hard and trying to catch their breath. After a few moments, he drew her into
his arms. When the afterglow faded, she looked up at him. He winked at her with
his thickly-lashed eyes then kissed her nose.
“Mother of my precious girls and wife of my life, you take
my breath away.”
* * *
*
Hunters kept their tension high
and they knew they would have to stay ever vigilant. Still, the years flew by
and life settled into a smooth pattern. Even though things appeared to proceed
on an even keel, Angela felt trapped by the shrinking deadline when the curse
would attack her girls. It also worried her that combining the curses may have
changed the way the affliction would manifest itself. What if the impact was
stronger, deadlier?
On the evening of Victoria and Valerie’s eighteenth
birthday when the sun slipped lower between the mountains and the sky burst
into a deep satin palate, blood-red against the peak of Mt. Baldy, she decided
it was too risky to wait any longer. She took the journals to the girls’ room
and eased into the subject of the family curses. “For years, the community
suspected your dad and his family of doing all sorts of evil around here. In
reality, they never harmed anyone. And your dad actually became a hero.”