Jared (22 page)

She didn’t flinch. All of this was his choice. He had
mated with her, completed the process. As much as she’d been unable to resist
the bonding, she had warned him against it. “You don’t have to take me
anywhere. Your home can remain untainted.”

“You’re my wife. Where I go, you go.”

“Then you’re just going to have to deal with me, warts
and all.” She looked pointedly at his hand on her arm. “Do you mind?”

For a moment, the same indecision warring in her
flickered in his gaze, then his eyes darkened to stone-cold emerald. His
fingers circled her arm with the same cold deliberation with which he studied
her. He watched each digit touch the other as he completed the circle, as if
fascinated with his ability to do so. Maybe even tempted by it?

The tension ratcheted tight between them as he lifted
her arm and tightened his grip. She didn’t know him like this. “Either break it
or let me go.” She was amazed at how calm she sounded when, in reality, she was
terrified. Terrified that he’d do it. That she’d pushed him past who he was to
the demon on the other side.

A muscle in his jaw leapt. “Don’t tempt me.”

She moved a fraction of an inch closer. Into his grip.
“I’m tempting.”

Again that muscle jerked. His gaze lifted to hers.
“Why?”

There was nothing subtle in the probe of his mind.
There was nothing subtle in the way she opened to him.

“I would rather know the worst from the start than
build false illusions.” The weight of that truth thickened her accent. “I find
it easier to cope.”

It was always easier to have no hope. “Since you
didn’t offer me the same consideration, why should I offer it to you?”

She didn’t have to even think about the answer.
“Because you’re a better person than I am.”

“What makes you so sure?”

She looked at him, at his tough-as-nails expression,
his hurt-to-his-soul eyes. “Because I know you.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t bet on what you think you
know of me.”

She relaxed into his grip, ignoring his snarl. She did
know him and of what he was capable. “But you are not me.”

“Lucky for you.”

“Yes.”

Though she didn’t feel lucky. She felt like she’d lost
something invaluable. She’d been hurt many times in her life—deeply,
irrevocably—but she’d never before delivered the kind of pain to another human
being that Jared was experiencing. She’d always been the one betrayed. Being on
the other side of the betrayal, even if it hadn’t been her intent, was
infinitely worse. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t use you.”

“Uh-huh.” He pushed her into the bedroom. “You can
work on a believable explanation to go with that lie on the way to the Circle
J. Right now, I need to get you out of here.”

I need to get you out of here.

She paused in the door to the bedroom and looked over
her shoulder at him. He was protecting her. He thought she had betrayed him,
thought she might be in league with the Sanctuary, yet he was protecting her
from pack law. She shook her head. And he said she was too soft. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He stood there,
arms folded across his chest, filling the space with the breadth of his
shoulders and the cold fury radiating off him in icy waves. “You’re not off the
hook. I’d just prefer to have the answers I want before tossing you to the
wolves.”

She squeezed between him and the door frame. He’d
rather die than have her think he was soft. She understood that. “Thank you
anyway.”

“I don’t want gratitude.”

He wanted an explanation he could accept. “I was just
looking for some—”

That fast, his hand covered her mouth. Fear flared as
she looked around. She didn’t see anything, but everything in his body language
said there was a threat. Don’t say another fucking word.

Or maybe it was just her imagination making excuses
for him. She pushed at his hand. I don’t like your language.

And I don’t like your morals. Guess we’ll both have
some adjustments to make.

Adjustments meant future. Did this mean he wasn’t
dumping her?

Why not just leave me here?

She raised her brows. Because you’re mine.

She raised her brows.

And I take care of what’s mine.

As if that explained everything. He removed his hand.

“Get packed.”

“I don’t understand you.”

It was his turn to lift his brow. “You don’t have to,
but in five minutes we’re leaving, whatever state you’re in.”

That she understood. She cast a longing glance at the
shower. No way did she have time for that. She settled for a hasty cleanup with
a washcloth, wincing as she caught a glimpse of the tousled bed. How different
the lovemaking between them had been before. Warm, intimate, a sharing and a
blending for all that it was passionate and wild. And then there was the time
after he’d found her in Ian’s office. She shuddered. She hadn’t liked it when
Jared had made love to her like that—with his emotions held in check, giving
her his body but nothing else. They were married. His choice, but she hadn’t
fought him when he’d moved the commitment forward. She’d wanted the bonding.
Wanted to believe forever was possible for them. She still did. Which meant she
was a partner in this relationship. Which meant she had a say. Which meant from
here on out there would be emotion between them, whatever it was, but never
that cold distance.

She grabbed her clothes up off the floor, pulling them
on rapidly. She shoved pencil and paper into her bag, along with a spare set of
clothing the were women had given her. She wasted precious seconds searching
for her gloves and hat. She found the gloves under the bed and finally
remembered Jared had gotten rid of her hat.

Raisa glanced out the frosted window. The night looked
to be a cold one. Hopefully, Jared’s blood would hold long enough this time so
she could continue to regulate her temperature until they got to wherever the
Circle J was.

She walked back into the bedroom. Jared stood by the
bed, completely unconcerned with his nakedness. Unconcerned with her. She might
have bought into his act of extreme indifference as he began to dress, except
for the way his energy kept reaching for hers. It gave her hope.

Her thoughts must have bled over because he shot her a
disgusted glare. “Just keeping tabs on a treacherous little vamp.”

She gritted her teeth. Without knowing what was going
on, he was entitled to a few shots. “So good of you to keep an open mind.”

His gaze narrowed. “Unless you want me bending you
over that couch again, you won’t keep picking a fight.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “You won’t touch me again
until the anger’s gone.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing we’re immortal.” Picking
up her backpack, he slung it over his shoulder. “Because that’s going to take
forever.”

With a hand on her arm he escorted her roughly through
the door. She grabbed the jamb, slowing them down.

“If you’re not going to kill me, Jared . . .” Her
fingers popped free. She shot into the living room and caught herself on the
recliner. “There are things you need to know.”

He glanced at the front door and held up his hand.
“Not now.”

There was a perfunctory knock. When the door didn’t
open immediately, Jared smiled sardonically. “And they say weres can’t learn.”

How had he . . . ? She didn’t finish the thought. She
knew. He’d scanned. Just as she could have if she’d thought about it. She was
just so used to conserving energy, the sheer luxury of having the strength to
do what she wanted when she wanted was taking some getting used to.

A quick check revealed Ian and Creed were outside the
door. Great. Just what she needed to round off a horrible night—coming
face-to-face with the men who’d seen her with Jared. Heat seared up from her
toes, burning her cheeks. Oh Lord, she didn’t have the sophistication for this.
She pointed over her shoulder. “I forgot something in the bedroom. I’ll just
go—”

He caught her arm. “Stay put.”

She didn’t know if it was old-fashioned manners or
sheer male possessiveness, but she could have kissed Jared for tucking her
behind him before he opened the door. Kissed him for those broad shoulders of
his that acted as a shield. Kissed him for whatever it was that was holding his
anger in check enough to provide her with this courtesy.

“I’m sorry about the interruption earlier,” Ian said.

“No harm done,” Jared replied.

Raisa felt the weres’ combined mental scan. She took a
step forward, placing her fingers on the middle of Jared’s back. Again he
surprised her. First his hand came around to cover hers, and then his energy
draped over hers in an impenetrable cloak. She pressed into his back. Let them
all believe it was because she was mortified. She was, but also she didn’t
think she could deal with any more chaos right now. She was getting a headache.
And not the good kind.

“You’re leaving?” Creed asked.

“I want to get Raisa back to the Circle J.”

“I figured that.”

“Good thing I brought this over, then.” Creed held out
a package to Raisa.

Jared intercepted the bundle. “My woman doesn’t accept
gifts from other men.”

Raisa perked up. “It’s a present?”

She’d never gotten a present. When she was a child,
there’d been no money. When she’d gotten older, there’d been no one close
enough to give her one.

Raisa’s excitement cascaded through Jared like a
waterfall. How the hell could no one have ever gotten her a present? Jared
clenched his teeth. “What is it?”

Creed cut Raisa a glance, a conspiratorial smile on
his lips. “The latest Jan Vandor novel.”

Raisa gasped. “How did you get it?”

“We have a book exchange here. This was an extra
copy.”

Raisa’s excitement spiked along Jared’s anger. She
very much wanted that book.

“No one has extra copies of her books.”

“We do.”

Jared blocked her step around him with his arm. The
grip of her fingers on his biceps connected them, steadying the jumble of
emotion inside—anger, want, jealousy.

“Are you sure?” she asked the wolf, such longing in
her voice that Jared wanted to snarl. Raisa had jeopardized the Johnsons’
relationship with the D’Nallys, an alliance they desperately needed. She’d
betrayed his trust, but she was still his mate and he still wanted to be the
one to give her pleasure. Even while he wanted to wring her neck.

It was Ian who answered. “Very sure.”

Raisa pinched Jared’s back. “Get out of my way.”

Her excitement at the gift of a book rolled over him,
making his denial harder. “No.”

“It’s my present.”

“From another man.” Who had known she had a favorite
author when he hadn’t.

“So? This is the twenty-first century.”

“And if we were still human and he wasn’t wolf, that
would make a difference?” He shoved the book back at Creed. “Thanks, but no,
thanks.”

Raisa’s hands punched into his back, her knuckles
leaving little imprints of pain. “That’s my present.”

“Presents from wolves come with strings.”

“Not this one,” Creed interrupted.

“Uh-huh.” Even with the mate bond in place, Jared
didn’t trust Creed as far as he could throw him. The were was too handsome, too
male, and had too damn much experience pleasing women. As evidenced by him
selecting the perfect gift for Raisa. Jared nodded to Ian while blocking
Raisa’s next attempt to come out from behind his back. “I want to thank you for
your hospitality.”

Ian smiled. “It’s been amusing having you here.”

He just bet.

“By the way, Caleb says since you’re coming in, you
might as well get in touch.”

Jared raised his brow. “How does Caleb know I’m coming
in?”

Ian shrugged. “It was a logical assumption that you’d
want your mate safe.”

Mate. The primitive were description of the marriage
he’d put in motion settled easily into his sense of possessiveness. That sense
of familiarity pissed the hell out of him. He didn’t want a potential Sanctuary
collaborator as a wife. He wanted to respect his woman, trust her, not have her
hanging around his neck like a liability.

Then you picked the wrong woman.

The resentful intrusion into his thoughts hit on his
last steady nerve.

I’m well aware of that.

Except he wasn’t. Not in his gut. And that was playing
hell with his sense of logic.

Silence from behind him, and a flicker of . . . hurt?
Dammit! Raisa would not make him feel guilty. He grabbed his rifle and guided
her through the door. He heard her making her farewells but ignored them,
focusing his attention outward, scanning with his energy as the frigid air hit
his face. Her heard the rustle of paper behind him, which could only be Creed
offering her that damn book. Without looking he said, “Don’t, Raisa.”