by Lora Leigh
im. All she could see was her clothes. Shredded. As though someone had taken shears to them. Her sturdy shoes and boots, plain socks and panty hose. The only thing she didn’t see was the delicate silk-and-lace underwear sets she had brought with her. There were no push-up bras torn to shreds. No stockings. Like the ones she still wore and hadn’t even realized.
Shock slowly bled to fury. She stared at the mess, the deliberate calculation in each carelessly dropped shred of fabric, and she turned back to him slowly.
He was watching her with those icy blue eyes that still seemed wicked, burning with greedy flames. His expression was controlled. His look arrogant. Confident.
“What the bloody fucking hell have you done here?”
He grinned. “Have I mentioned how much I love it when that very proper, very precise accent of yours shows up? It means there’s a party on the way. Be careful, Ria, it’s not just coffee that makes you hotter. But also anger.”
She stared at him, incredulous. The arrogance, primal self-confidence and complete calm in his expression enraged her.
“You destroyed my clothes,” she clipped out.
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, I believe I might have done just that.”
“Why?” She could barely form the word, could barely form a thought.
He lifted up then and leaned toward her, nose to nose.
“I’m sick of fucking a stranger. Of sensing the woman I mated and never seeing her. Those,” he snarled, pointing to the clothes, “hide my mate and I will no longer allow it.”
She edged back and moved to her feet, staring at him, shaking, and it wasn’t from arousal. It was from complete, overriding disbelief and anger.
“You are insane,” she sneered back. “Your mate, my arse. Your mate is back at Sanctuary slinking around like a damned cat in heat. Waiting on you. Waiting on you while you fed me that fucking hormone and made certain I couldn’t leave you. What’s wrong, Mercury? Couldn’t you handle the fact that you didn’t have it the way you wanted it? Now you have to turn me into something you can bear to touch?”
He came out of the bed with a snarl heavy enough, primal enough that something inside her rebelled. Did he think she would back down in the face of his anger? That she would flinch?
Before he could take the first step she was in his face.
“I can have those clothes back, this fast.” She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers imperiously. “A Vanderale Breed will deliver them and a Vanderale Breed will follow any request I make of him. And you can take these shreds,” she sneered, “and shove them.”
“You want a Vanderale Breed to die?” he drawled, his nose almost touching hers, anger a live thing in his eyes now, a living, breathing entity within her as well. “Let one deliver more of those mockeries of what you should wear and I’ll rip him apart and send him running and crying to the imperious Leo he follows. You’re my mate and I’ll be damned if you’ll hide from me any longer.”
“Alaiya is your mate,” she screamed in his face. “With what you did to me, you’ve mocked everything nature intended mating heat to be. What, Mercury, do you need a fucking harem instead of one woman?”
He smiled. A cold, quiet smile that penetrated her fury, that left her staring back at him warily as he straightened.
“We can go shopping this morning. I saved you an outfit.”
“Excuse me!” Her fists were clenched; violence was ripping her apart inside. “What did you just say to me?”
The look on his face had her stepping back. Not in fear, but in caution. Those eyes narrowed, flickered a heavy gold, and his expression tightened with such primal arrogance that she had no idea how to fight it.
“I said, we will go shopping. This morning. After we shower, eat and, if you need me again, have me. We’ll replace your clothing.”
“The clothing you ripped apart?” Her voice was hoarse, strained with anger and disbelief.
His brow arched. “I hardly think so. But you can try to convince me if you like. You are my mate, and Breeds have been known to spoil their mates atrociously. Want to see how far I’ll spoil you?”
She ached to.
“You bastard!” she breathed out, incredulous, certain one of them had lost his or her mind, and she was pretty damned certain it wasn’t her.
“It was just a suggestion.” He shrugged.
“You dirty, arrogant, egomaniacal Breed,” she screamed. “You’re worse than Dane. Worse than Jonas. You’re worse than the Leo.” And that was the highest arrogance insult she could deal anyone.
“Compliments help.” He smiled and moved past her, his hand caressing her butt as he passed, and drawing an enraged squeal from her lungs.
“I’ll kill you.”
“Damned if you won’t if we keep going at each other the way we did this morning,” he called back to her. “I’ll die happy.”
The bathroom door closed. She stared around her, still in shock, certain she was dreaming. The tightly clenched, furious snarl that left her lips would have rivaled his best. And the bastard laughed at her. She heard it. Heard his chuckle, and before she could stop herself, the small clock on the bedside table was in her hands, then flying across the room to shatter against the door.
She stood there, breathing roughly, then groaned and sat back down on the bed, and stared at the ruins of her detestable clothes. What the hell was she going to do now?
CHAPTER 22
“Whew.” Mercury was very, very careful to keep the sharp expulsion of breath quiet as silence filled the bedroom.
He braced his hands against the sink and waited. She stayed in the bedroom. She wasn’t running. Damn if it wouldn’t suck running out into the snow naked to catch up with her.
He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal, the sharp tang of her fury, and had to admit, damn, she was a challenge when she was pissed off.
Not that he would want to chance this one again soon. As he’d said, Breed males generally spoiled their mates, especially during mating heat, when their emotions and sense of balance were so off-kilter.
Male Breeds were highly sexual during mating heat, but they didn’t experience the painful, agonizing arousal that a mated female felt, especially one that wasn’t Breed. They didn’t experience the sharp spikes of anger because they couldn’t control their emotions or their needs. Females were dependent on their mates, and for an independent woman, that was a hell of an adjustment to make.
Ria was one of the most independent women he had ever run across. On the outside, she was so self-sufficient, so contained, that others moved uneasily around her. Humans needed to be needed, just as Breeds did. They weren’t comfortable around those they sensed didn’t want or need such entanglements.
That’s how Ria affected others. They shied away from her, watched her warily, unconsciously aware that she was pushing them away.
That wasn’t going to work in Sanctuary, or anywhere within the Breed world. If she didn’t claim him as her mate, herself, then she would never be happy. And making a place for herself in his life would be agonizing for her, no matter how easy he tried to make it, or how he spoiled that. Her fears would always be there. And other Breeds would always sense them.
He tensed as he heard the bedroom door close. Frowning, he moved quickly from the bathroom.
The one outfit he had left her was missing. Damn her if she had run from him again.
He heard another door close, but not the outside door. Moving through the house, he paused at the closed door to the guest room and sighed in relief.
She was there. Showering without him. He had hoped to shower with her, to ease her.
He frowned and entered the bedroom, drawn by something, a sensation, a scent that tore at him. The scent of her tears mixed with the water. The scent of her confusion, so bleak and unfamiliar to her.
And it broke his heart. Tore at his soul.
The shower was running in the bathroom and Ria was there. He pushed aside the shower curtain to see her, her head again
st the wall, her hands covering her face, her shoulders shaking with tears.
“Ria,” he whispered.
“Don’t.” She shook her head, her voice hoarse. “I don’t scream. I don’t cry. I don’t hurt like this.” Her voice became ragged, angry. “Leave me alone. Please. Let me control this. I have to control this.”
He stepped in behind her, enclosed them in the steamy warmth and pulled her to his chest. Where she belonged, and he let her cry. He bent his head over hers and closed his eyes, knowing how hard this was for her. Feeling it. Sensing it.
“I love you, Ria,” he whispered against her hair. “I can’t give you any more assurances than that.” He wouldn’t give them to her, because he knew right now she wouldn’t hear them.
She sobbed harshly, her arms going around his waist, holding on to him as her tears branded his chest.
“I didn’t want to love you,” she cried brokenly. “I didn’t want to hurt like this.”
“I know, baby.” He kissed her hair, stroked her back. “I know.”
He let the storm rage inside her, and he stroked her as it eased. When she stood silent against him, he moved back, snagged a washcloth and he washed her. Gently. He cleaned the tears from her face and touched her lips with his, holding back the need that thickened his tongue, that burned inside him. For the comfort.
He gave her the only comfort he knew how to give her. His love.
Sanctuary’s heli-jet whisked them to Buffalo Gap hours later, after Mercury slung her over his shoulder and deposited her in the back area, beneath the pilot’s amused gaze.
She was furious. So mad she could barely breathe, and once they landed at the mall, she had no choice but to behave with decorum. She wasn’t about to get into a screaming match with an arrogant Breed for the press to get hold of.
And Mercury capitalized on it. He even went so far as to allow her to choose an outfit and try it on. She had no sooner undressed than he jerked open the door and stole the clothing she had worn into the store.
And she heard him—he was a dead man—she heard him tell the salesclerk to get rid of her jeans and sweater. He was dead. She was killing him.
She stepped out in the clothes she had chosen. Black slacks and a gray sweater. He took one look at them, flexed his fingers and growled in disaproval as he asked her, very quietly, “Do you want to leave this store naked?”
She left the store dressed in butt-hugging, leg-caressing blue jeans that drew more male eyes than she had drawn in her life, and he dared to snarl at the men watching her. Paired with the jeans was a crimson—crimson for God’s sake—figure-hugging, boob-conforming shirt that she hid beneath the leather coat he’d allowed her to keep for some reason.
He did the same thing at the shoe store. She left in a pair of flat, leg-flattering ankle boots that in no way resembled the ones he had trashed. And shoes. So many shoes the store was having them delivered that afternoon to the cabin. High heels, shoes so expensive even she winced; high-heeled boots, leather boots, shapely, sexy boots that sent a surge of panic inside her as he stood over her, intimidating her, all but forcing her to try them on and stand up. To walk in them. To feel the pure erotic feel of footwear designed not just for comfort, but for wicked sensuality.
Store after store. The exclusive mall, attached to the even more exclusive hotel built for Sanctuary guests, held every conceivable store. They were there for hours. From store to store, as Mercury shoved clothes into the dressing room, growled, threatened a scene and pushed her farther into the dark little corner where the feminine woman she hid shouted out in glee.
She wasn’t pleased. When he forced her into the makeup salon, she dug her heels in, only to have him whisper insidiously that he had no problem giving the press a story that would keep them talking for months.
And the press was there. Mercury was a known figure with the Bureau of Breed Affairs. One of their top enforcers. He might not be dressed for duty, but the leather pants and black T-shirt he wore did nothing to hide the powerful male animal he was.
Black leather for God’s sake. Displaying those powerful legs and the heavy boots on his feet. A T-shirt that stretched across his chest and forearms. His hair was tied back at his nape, showing off the proud, lionlike features that had other shoppers watching him warily.
She came out with makeup, hair accessories and a perfume so sinful she wanted to try it now. This instant.
He forced short dresses on her. Leather pants. A leather vest. Who knew he was so damned wild? Leather?
She should have known. She had known. There were infrequent pictures of Mercury out of uniform, and those pictures had made her wet, long before she met him.
There were simple business dresses and skirt outfits, but short ones, figure-flattering ones. Silks and soft cottons, sweaters that stretched over her breasts and displayed cleavage, and so many damned pairs of stockings, push-up bras and matching panties that she wanted to faint at the thought of the cost. He was spending a fortune and wasn’t even wincing.
“I hate you,” she muttered as they left another store. He had let her keep her simple leather coat until there. He pulled it from her shoulders, tossed it to the clerk with an order to burn it, then pulled a shorter, hip-hugging black leather jacket with a thin advanced insulate over her arms.
The soft interior felt like heaven. The leather conformed to her body, as the other clothes did, and drew the gaze to her ass in the back, her thighs in the front. Another damned reason for him to growl.
She wished she could protest his taste. She wanted to. But she would have had to lie, because he had exquisite taste in everything he chose.
“You’ll love me again in a few hours,” he promised her, inhaling slowly, grinning at the proof he found of her arousal. “Perhaps sooner.”
“I really hate you,” she hissed.
“I hear love in your voice, Ria.” He kissed her quickly. “Come on, one more stop to make.”
One more stop. At an exclusive dress designer who whisked her right in, measured her, hemmed and hawed and cackled gleefully as Mercury chose several dresses for her. Because she refused. She was horrified. Outraged at the price. And the sheer beauty of the party gowns he chose.
“Thanksgiving, several Christmas parties and New Year’s,” he told her. “You’ll be attending with me.”
“My job is almost finished,” she informed him, striving for a calm she didn’t feel as they stepped from the boutique.
Mercury came to a hard stop and glared down at her.
“Would you go back now?” he demanded then. “Would you leave me, Ria?”
She paused, staring back at him silently. He could come to South Africa with her, but she knew the same thing he did. Leo’s pride was already established, the hierarchy formed, just as it was here. There was no place for him there, whereas here . . .
She shook her head slowly. No, there was no returning ever again to what she was. And she couldn’t leave Mercury. She had proved that the night before. Dane had offered her escape, and she had refused it.
“No,” she finally whispered. “Not yet.”
“Not ever.” His voice hardened.
“Not yet.” Not until he asked her to. Not until he could no longer deny the pull Alaiya would have on him.
And then, she was terribly afraid, there would be no place to escape the pain.
“You love me, Ria.” He stared into her eyes. “I can smell it pouring from you, reaching around me, inside me. You can’t deny it.”
“I don’t deny it,” she admitted.
“But you regret it?” Anger flared in his eyes.
And she had to shake her head. No, she wouldn’t regret it. She would die from it, walk in sorrow when it was over, but she wouldn’t regret it.
“I don’t regret what I walk into with my eyes open,” she finally told him. “But I don’t have to like it. And when you realize the mistake you made, what you’ve done to both of us, Mercury, I have a very bad feeling you might regret it.”
> She walked ahead of him again, and Mercury let the smile tug at his lips as he watched her move. She owned the clothes she was wearing. Not just physically, but he could also see that her attitude, her demeanor were cracking.
He had to clench his teeth as he watched her walk, though. Those jeans hugged her ass like nobody’s business, and that light black leather jacket called attention to her hips and slender thighs. She was a wet dream walking, and if he didn’t get inside her, he was going to go crazy.
He checked his watch and grimaced. The small green indicator on it informed him of Jonas’s need for contact. Not imperative; it wasn’t an emergency, but he needed to finish up here soon and get her back to Sanctuary.
Mating was taking time. Time he didn’t want to give up, to catch a traitorous bastard that he just might have to kill for interfering in his plans this way.
Shaking his head at the thought, he followed his woman, watching her mood, casting silent snarls at the men that ate her with their eyes. But pride filled him at the looks she was getting.
All that gorgeous, thick hair flowed down her back, her hips swayed, her ass bunched deliciously, and every man who saw her wanted her. He had a woman to be proud of, not just because she moved like sex itself, but because she was smart, honorable and loved him enough that she had tried to let him go.
Silly woman. She had no idea that he had no intention of ever escaping her delicate hold.
“One more stop,” he announced as he caught up with her.
She sighed as though put out. As though the thought of one more shop was abhorrent. But he’d seen her eyes while they shopped, watched her try to hide her mounting excitement, her pleasure in the clothes and her inability to deny them.
If she truly didn’t want them, she would have let him make a dozen scenes and watched each one coolly. But she did want them, maybe almost as much as she wanted him.
The stop surprised Ria. The shop exclusively carried apparel suited to riding motorcycles, in any season of the year. Mercury bought boots, leather pants, gloves and a jacket that made his eyes heat when he held them up to her and all but growled the order for her to try them on.
And Ria had to admit she loved them. Perhaps too much.
As they flew back to Sanctuary, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would have a chance to use them. And when they stepped through the entrance of the mansion, she couldn’t help the spike of anger that shot through her.
Alaiya stood on the other side of the foyer, leaning against the wall, watching as they entered. Her multihued tawny gold hair feathered around her face in attractive, designed disarray. Her hazel brown eyes narrowed, sweeping over Ria’s new clothes with a sneer.
For a second, Ria was amused. She wasn’t a stranger to pretty clothes; she just never let anyone she knew see her wearing them. This woman, she didn’t know. She didn’t matter where the clothes were concerned.
But when Alaiya’s gaze lit on Mercury with lascivious hunger, Ria had to clench her fists inside her new jacket to hold back her rage.
“Jonas is waiting on us in your office,” Mercury said softly as he placed his hand at the small of Ria’s back and they moved toward the other woman. “He’s getting impatient.”
“That seems to be a Breed fault,” Ria muttered.
“I consider it a strength,” he told her, amusement lacing his voice as Alaiya straightened and smiled back at Mercury tentatively.
“Mercury, could I have a moment?” She stepped forward, reaching out, then drawing her hand back, her fingers trembling, the false nervousness causing Ria to nearly roll her eyes.
“Not right now, Alaiya.” His voice roughened as they moved past her.
Perhaps later. He didn’t say the words, but Ria felt them. She parted her lips to speak.
“Watch what you say, Ria,” he warned her suddenly, his voice low. “Remember how little control I have when you’re so hot you’re sparking. And, baby, you’re definitely sparking.”
She closed her lips quickly and cast him a fulminating glare as they turned into the hallway and moved for the offices set at the back of the mansion.
Just for spite, just because she was an inferno from the inside out, she added a little extra sway to her hips, a little sensuality to her stride. Oh, she knew how to do it. She had done it often when she was younger, before she had learned better. And she heard his sharp, quick inhalation behind her, a second before the door to the office she had been assigned jerked open and Jonas stepped outside.
He came to a hard stop, stared at her, inhaled slowly, then stared behind her at Mercury.
“I hate men,” she muttered, brushing past him, careful not to touch him.
The few times the clerks or salespeople had brushed against her at the mall, it had been horrifyingly uncomfortable.
“Well, at least she doesn’t just hate Breeds,” Jonas replied cautiously as Mercury came up behind her.
“I hate them too,” she informed him a little peevishly as she stared around at the disarray that had been made of the files she had placed in such careful piles weeks ago. “What did you do to my office?”
He and Mercury stepped inside as he closed the door behind them.
“Blame Dane,” Jonas snapped. “He was making himself right at home in here earlier.”
Ria closed her eyes and counted to five. She added another five just to be certain before she turned back to Jonas.
“Never, ever, allow Dane Vanderale to have access to anything in your office,” she informed him with studied politeness, as she battled the anger that still wanted to fire inside her. “He does okay in his own little space, but he wrecks anyone else’s.”
She shed her jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair before propping her hands on her hips and staring at the mess.
Shaking her head, she tugged out the hair band she had stuck in her front pocket that day, pulled her hair back to her neck and secured it before bending over the table and restacking her files.
Behind her, Mercury narrowed his eyes at Jonas. Normally, the director was smooth as silk, but if he was looking where Mercury thought he was . . . Hell yes, he was.
Mercury moved behind her and turned to face his commander, lifting his lip in a snarl he couldn’t quite control.
Jonas pursed his lips and blew out in surprise, shaking his head before turning away. Mercury caught the smile on the other man’s face, though.
“These files need to be left alone,” Ria informed them, a snap to her voice that had Mercury’s cock jerking in his pants.
Defiance and challenge filled her tone.
“Talk to Dane about it.” Jonas sh