Jared (11 page)

The were’s brows snapped down. He touched Raisa’s
shoulder. “What’s wrong with her?”

The snarl rumbled from Jared’s soul. The were removed
his hand. “She’s cold.”

A small smile played around Creed’s mouth as he met
Jared’s gaze. “You will have to do better than that growl if you wish to keep
the males from this one.”

Rai’s hand wrapped around the back of his thigh. Lust
and territorial rage spread through him, spiked by her instinctive request for
his protection.

“She’s under my protection.”

Creed’s smile was indulgent. “The extent of your claim
will be observed, but as she doesn’t wear your mark, courting is allowed.”

“As flattering as being courted sounds,” Rai piped up,
“I’m not in the market.”

Creed’s smile, when he bestowed it upon Rai, was
extremely gentle, an emotion Jared hadn’t believed Ian’s badass first in command
was capable of. “But for now we will get you to a place that is warm, eh,
little one? You would not want to meet suitors with blue lips and frozen toes.”

It irritated the hell out of Jared that, rather than
shoot down the offer, Raisa smiled that sweet smile and thanked the arrogant
bastard. Right before she shivered. Creed’s frown returned. He motioned the men
forward. The pace was noticeably faster than before. And when another hopeful
stepped in front of them, he was elbowed aside none too gently by the guards.
This time the sound that rumbled in Jared’s chest was a growl of satisfaction.
Rai protested and moved to see if the man who’d landed on his ass in a snowbank
was all right. Jared checked the instinctive move. The were, seeing Jared
wasn’t going to let her rush to his side, got up with an easy flex of muscle
that revealed his bid for sympathy for what it was. A shot at Raisa’s notice.

“You’re too soft,” Jared informed Raisa as the young
man touched his forehead in a wry salute as Jared hustled her by. “If you don’t
toughen up, this lot is going to run right over you.”

Raisa glanced over his shoulder. “They didn’t have to
shove him.”

As far as he was concerned, the escort hadn’t shoved
the impudent pup hard enough. He was still smiling and still hopeful. “Unless
you want him in your bed tonight, I suggest you stop encouraging him.”

Raisa gasped. Creed chuckled. Her hand tightened on
Jared’s. “I was just—”

“Making eyes at him,” Jared finished for her.

She stopped so suddenly, that, if he hadn’t had his
arm around her waist, the were behind them would have goosed her with his knee.
As it was, he had to carry her two steps before she fell back into rhythm.

Her “I was not making eyes at him” was as stiff as her
body.

“It’s a different culture, sunbeam. What you think of
as innocent consideration could find you flat on your back with a husband you
weren’t expecting.”

He felt Rai’s start of fear. As well as Creed’s
disgust.

“Among our kind, your concern might be mistaken for
interest. But D’Nallys recognize outsiders have different ways,” Creed
explained, that odd gentleness that Jared didn’t trust in his voice. “You do
not have to fear rape, little vamp.”

Raisa didn’t relax, her eyes darted from man to man
under her lashes, as if expecting one of them to jump her at any moment. Low
growls from the escort, each aimed at Jared, punctuated every step they took.
The D’Nallys didn’t like the implication. Jared ignored the threats, too,
satisfied that Raisa was reining in that potent femininity of hers for the moment.
He didn’t give a shit if the D’Nallys resented it.

Creed stopped in front of a large log home sporting
big windows and opened an ornately carved front door. Warm air from the
interior flowed over them. “The D’Nally offers you the comfort of his home.”

Jared nodded with the appropriate formality. “Thank
you.” With pressure at the base of her spine, he pushed Rai through the
opening, the urge to get her warm barely stronger than the need to get her away
from the other males. Creed halted him before he could follow.

Jared glanced down at the hand on his arm and then at
the were. There was no gentleness in the man’s face now, just the ruthless
clinging to purpose that the clan was known for. “Don’t scare her again.”

“Don’t tell me how to handle my woman.”

Creed smiled darkly, revealing his sharp canines and
the aggression so inherent in his kind. “She’s not yours.”

Jared stepped into the other man’s space and bared his
fangs right back in an equally feral smile, meeting Creed’s power with his own.
He removed the were’s hand from his arm, restraining himself from breaking it
with sheer force of will. “She won’t be yours.”

Creed shifted his grip to the rifle. “While she is
here, she is also under D’Nally protection, subject to pack law, and her wishes
will not be disregarded for yours.”

“I never thought they would.”

“You will also not be allowed to abuse her.”

“Warning her of your customs is not abuse.”

“You frightened her needlessly. You know pack law
always gives a woman a choice.”

“Up to a point.” Jared knew once a woman lay down with
a man, even if only he felt the bond, all choice was gone. The woman became his
sole responsibility.

Creed inclined his head. “But until that point, she
will be protected in her right to choose.”

“Protected from what?”

“Vamp males are known for their indiscriminate
mating.” Creed’s lip curled in disgust. “She is a woman who thinks in terms of
forever. That will be respected.”

It was a warning. The snarl ripped from Jared’s throat
without thought. No one told him what to do with his woman.

Creed stepped back, a mocking smile on his lips.
“Snarl all you want, but she is a woman whose compatibility to were mating has
been scented by all. If she becomes someone’s mate, she will not be leaving.”

Great. Just what he needed. Weres on a mating mission.
“She’s not a paragon. She’s as contrary as they come.”

As one, the weres around him smiled, purely male
smiles of anticipation, making Jared wonder if their escort had been picked at
random or from the pack’s most eligible males. Creed was no exception.

“Then she should fit right into the pack.”

Shit.

HE’D kill every damn were in the pack before he let
them get their paws on her, Jared decided as Raisa came out of the bathroom
wrapped in a too-big heavy terry robe, steam billowing around her, framing her
in a fragrant cloud.

“Warmed up?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as
possible, which wasn’t all that neutral. The woman stirred all the rough edges
of his personality.

She nodded and clutched the neck of the robe closed.
“Yes, thank you.”

Her hair was still damp, falling around her too-thin
face in a subdued mass of waves. As soon as it dried, it would be that wild
tangle of honey curls that tempted a man to wrap his fingers in the tawny mass.
Her lips were soft but not relaxed, reflecting the tension he could see
shadowing her gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

She crossed the room, her bare feet making wisps of
sound as she came to where he stood in front of the wood-burning stove. “Are we
going to be here long?”

“For a bit, why?”

She shrugged. “I was just wondering.”

Weariness and nervousness came off her in an
undulating wave. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, be feeling a little hunted?”

She shot him a startled glance and then a rueful
smile. “Hard to believe, but even the Sanctuary made me feel less pursued.”

Jared could understand that. “The D’Nallys are a
rather intense clan.”

“Don’t they have any women of their own?”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple.”

He tugged one of the wing-back chairs over closer to
the stove. She flashed him that smile and a touch of soft energy. “Thank you.”

She kept the robe closed around her legs as she sat,
denying him a glimpse of anything other than the tips of her pink, slightly-prunedfrom-the-bath
toes. After years of watching and appreciating the most blatant displays of
female flesh, he’d forgotten how erotic a women’s modesty could be. The
anticipation of maybe catching a glimpse of what was always hidden, the
temptation of the possibility of getting the woman to flash a bit of ankle,
maybe to catch a hint of the top curve of a breast, a bare arm, a dimpled knee
. . .

Longing hit him like a sledgehammer. Longing for a
time when things were simpler, when he understood the rules and was comfortable
with them. The robe’s neckline gaped as Raisa scooted back on the seat. Jared
caught his breath as the shadowed valley between her pert breasts became
visible, a dainty hollow that was just deep enough for his kiss. On either side,
the small mounds swelled in a creamy firm expanse. His mouth watered. If he
kissed her there, she’d taste of soap and clean, willing woman. His fingers
twitched as he stared. She had very white skin. It glowed warm in the soft
light of the room. Like the finest cream.

Raisa’s gaze followed his. She gasped and clutched the
lapels closed. Color moved up her throat. The move caused the bottom part of
the robe to gape. Jared got a glimpse of slim thighs and fragile knees with
little dimples, and then he heard another gasp. Her hand came down and whipped
that gap closed. He stared uncomprehendingly for a second, his blood pounding
in his veins, his fangs extending, his energy reaching for her. All because
he’d caught a glimpse of her knees. Son of a bitch.

Jared shook his head and grabbed a throw off the
couch. Raisa sat there, clutching her robe closed at her knees and chest,
eyeing him with the wary, hunted look she’d worn while walking through the
D’Nally compound. He didn’t think she took a breath during the three steps it
took him to get back to her side.

As he handed her the throw, he realized her feet
didn’t touch the floor when she sat back. How in hell could so small a woman
raise so much havoc inside him?

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“Just admiring the view.”

“There’s not much to be admired.”

She tucked the throw around her hips. The forest green
brought out the brown of her eyes, the richness of her skin, the thickness of
her lashes as they fanned her cheeks in a slow blink. He pushed a wild
corkscrew curl off her forehead. It wrapped around his fingers.

“There’s all kinds of pretty, sunbeam.”

“Well.” She hooked a finger around the strand of hair
and pulled it from his hand, “What kind of pretty makes it not so simple for
the weres? Why are they focusing on me?”

“Because you smell good.”

Her hand opened over her chest. “I smell?”

“To a were, some women smell like heaven on earth.”

She glanced at the window and the door, and then back
to the windows. “Why?”

“No one will hurt you, Raisa. The weres are real strict
about that, and for all they’re a hot-blooded bunch, they hold their traditions
dear.”

“That’s not an explanation of why.”

“Weres are not happy unless they’re mated. If ever
there was a species that craves happily ever after, it’s a were.”

“So why do they not just marry?”

Her accent was back. She must be very nervous.
“Because, when they mate, compatibility is determined by more than just a
mental need. There’s a chemical compatibility that has to exist. If a were
doesn’t find that perfect match, they live alone.”

“A lot of people live alone.”

“Weres’ social position, emotional well-being,
everything depends on their mating, so when a viable female comes into their
midst, they tend to sit up and take notice.”

She tucked her legs up under her. “Viable.”

“Unattached.”

“How do they know I’m unattached?”

“You don’t wear another’s scent.”

He waited for her to process that, what it meant. When
she did, her face went fiery red. “There are some things I will never get used
to about this life.”

Jared smiled, remembering his own frustration when he
realized the weres knew he hadn’t marked her. “I know what you mean.”

Her lips slipped between her teeth. “That’s why you’re
staying here with me, isn’t it?”

“One reason.” The other reasons he was staying with
her were too revealing.

A knock sounded at the door. Jared straightened, his
senses telling him who was on the other side of the door and territorial
aggression surged forward. “Stay put.”

Raisa nodded, her eyes as big as saucers. Jared
crossed to the door, threw it open, and stared at the man standing there. “What
in hell do you want?”

THE man on the other side of the doorjamb shared
Jared’s height and arrogance. He also had the most shocking eyes—a glowing
amber that created a deep contrast when framed by his long dark hair. He
radiated power and aggression. Raisa remembered what Jared had said about her
scent. She tucked the throw closer about her, not wanting any stray whiffs to
get away. The stranger frowned at Jared. “I thought you were advised not to
scare her anymore.”