Play of Passion (31 page)

“I’ve come to the conclusion that they’re just being grumpy old men.”

Laughter, then a few more snippets of information before they wrapped up the meeting early and Andrew snuck through the corridors to update Hawke on some of the smaller matters. His alpha liked to keep his finger on the pulse of his pack.

“We’re in good shape,” Hawke said after Andrew finished, neither of them having elected to sit for the short briefing. “Except for these games the Psy are playing.”

“Pure Psy seems to have accepted defeat in its proselytizing efforts at least,” Andrew said, having monitored the situation. “No new reports within the pack or in the city.”

“And we’ve had no more detected incursions onto our land.” Hawke folded his arms, staring at the territorial map on the wall. “But something tells me that’s not over yet.”

“No,” Andrew agreed, “there was too much planning there for them to give up their aim—whatever it is—so easily.”

“We might, at some stage, have to give Councilor Henry Scott a little warning tap to let him know he’s not welcome here.”

Since SnowDancer, together with DarkRiver, had already taken down one Councilor, Andrew knew that “warning tap” was a real possibility. “Are you thinking sometime soon?”

“No. We need more intel on the bastard. He’s smart.” Turning from the map, Hawke raised an eyebrow. “As of right now, you’re off shift for the next forty-eight hours. Go play your favorite game.”

Feeling the hum of anticipation in his belly, Andrew gave his alpha an innocent smile. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Hawke pointed a finger at him. “I want my calm, collected lieutenant back by the end of the week, or I’m packing you in a box and shipping you to fucking Siberia.”

Andrew grinned. “I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

 

 

Indigo knew she
looked good in the strapless little black dress that came to midthigh and skimmed over her body like a lover’s caress. Feet encased in three-inch heels, hair cascading down to the dip of her spine, and lips plump and red, she intended to make Andrew Kincaid’s eyes pop out in revenge for the relentless pressure she was under to “forgive him.” It didn’t matter how many times she explained that it wasn’t about forgiveness, but about the health of the pack; no one listened.

She’d had enough.

Several men waiting at the bar went stock-still as she entered the restaurant. “Andrew Kincaid,” she said to the hostess, ignoring everyone else.

The petite brunette checked her sleek computronic organizer. “This way, Ms. Riviere.”

Indigo narrowed her eyes, but said nothing as she followed the woman through the carpeted center of the restaurant and up the small flight of stairs at the back. She heard several men suck in a breath as she passed, while one audibly moaned, “Oh, God,
those
are what I call legs,” but none of it eased her temper.

Instead of showing her to a table on the upper level, the hostess took her to the door of a small private room. “I hope you enjoy your meal, Ms. Riviere,” the woman said, opening the door and waiting for Indigo to enter.

“Thank you.” She heard the door close behind her, but her eyes were on the man who stood beside the table dressed in a tuxedo that turned him from gorgeous and deliciously sexy to devastatingly handsome—but with the wicked still in his eye.

“Wow.” He ran his eyes down her body, back up, then down again. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

Every inch of her skin felt hypersensitive by the time those playful blue eyes met hers again. “I’m officially slayed,” he said, placing a hand on his heart.

She would not smile. “I thought this was a party.”

“Of two.” Pulling out her chair, he inclined his head. “Won’t you take a seat, Indigo?”

It felt strange to hear him use her full name. But deciding to take him up on his offer since the whole point of tonight was to talk to him face-to-face, she closed the distance between them and, placing her purse on the table, sat down. He eased the chair in behind her, his arms on either side of her body. “You smell . . .” A long, slow breath, as if he was savoring the scent of her.

She didn’t reply, overwhelmed by the sensory impact of him. The warmth of his body lapped against her skin even as the wild male scent of him wrapped around her like an invisible caress. She almost expected him to bend his head and kiss her nape, so much so that her body tightened in anticipation, but he released his hold on the arms of the chair and moved around to sit across from her.

“You still carry my scent in your skin.”

She closed her hands hard on the chair arms to get herself under control. “It’ll fade.” Pain and an untamed, unnamed emotion flared within her even as she spoke.

“I’ve got you in my skin, too,” he said in a tone that she couldn’t read, before pushing a code on the little touch pad sitting to the side. “I hope you don’t mind, but I placed an order for both of us earlier. I wanted to be able to talk to you without interruptions.”

Unsure how to read his behavior, she said, “That’s fine,” and watched as the door opened to admit an attendant dressed in a smart black suit. Rolling in the serving cart, the slender man placed it quietly by the side of the table. “You’re certain you do not wish for me to stay, sir?”

“No, we’ll manage.”

The man left with a nod to both Drew and Indigo.

Rising, Drew lifted off a cover to place a plate of delicacies in front of her. “I thought you’d like a choice of starters.”

Starting to feel an odd prickling at the back of her neck—as if she’d walked unawares into a trap—Indigo nonetheless picked up an artwork of a pastry and popped it into her mouth as he retrieved his own plate. The flavors exploded on her tongue in a burst of sweetness and spice. “Delicious.”

Drew’s smile was sharp, satisfied . . . and something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on but that made her wolf growl in warning as he murmured, “Good.”

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, she allowed him to pour the wine before saying, “So, what’s this about?”

“I’m leaving the pack.”

Her heart skipped a beat before she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “No joke. I spoke to WinterFire in North Dakota. They’re willing to welcome me into the fold.”

WinterFire was a strong, but much, much smaller pack. “And what will you do in WinterFire?” She wasn’t buying it, not for an instant.

“Same thing I do here.”

“You’ll be bored out of your skull.” The breadth of their territory suited his skills particularly well.

Drew shrugged. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward and saw his gaze dip to her cleavage. He didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t checking her out as she said, “Cut the crap, Drew. What’re you really up to?” Her breasts suddenly felt too tight, too confined, her skin hot and aching.

Putting down his glass, Drew lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m serious, Indigo.” Solemn words.

For the first time, she felt a hint of uncertainty. “Are you insane? We can’t afford to lose one of the strongest males in the pack! Not to mention our tracker!”

“I want you,” he said with a blunt honesty that made her mind spin. “And you want me.”

Since her entire body was aflame at his proximity—to the point where he had to be able to scent her arousal—she could hardly deny that. “I’m not following your logic.”

“Far as I can see,” he murmured, stroking her flushed breasts with his gaze, “only two things are keeping us apart. The first is the fact that you don’t think our union would be good for the health of the pack.”

“Removing yourself from the pack won’t exactly help the situation.”

“Yes,” he said, his tone intent, “it will. You won’t have to worry about confusion when it comes to the hierarchy—and WinterFire is happy for me to continue to work with SnowDancer as necessary.”

Hearing the rational argument, she felt her wolf’s claws dig into her skin, not in anger, but in a strange, wild panic. “You’ve thought this out.”

A muscle pulled taut in his jaw. “Yeah, I have. Because I’m not walking away from us, Indigo. I don’t care how hard I have to fight you.”

She curled her hand into a fist under the table. “You said two things. What’s the second?”

“Your mule-headedness.”

Scrunching up her napkin, she threw it at him. “
My
mule-headedness? I’m not the one who refuses to accept that we’re over!”

Having caught the napkin without effort, Drew put it down on the table. “Is that what you really want, Indy?”

“Of course! I don’t go around saying things I don’t mean.”

He got up, walking around and behind her while she remained in place—courtesy of her “mule-headedness.” Putting his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. “Liar.”

“Drew, I’m in no mood—”

Kisses on her neck, slow, wet, coaxing. “I can put you in the mood.” Teeth, little nips and bites that made her entire body clench.

“Stop it.” She put her hands on his but didn’t push him away, too starved for skin-to-skin contact with him. God, but he’d addicted her to him. The realization terrified her, but not enough to break the connection. “We’re talking about your foolhardy idea to leave the pack.”

“Decision’s made.” Another kiss.

Claws threatening to release, she pushed back her chair and rose to face him. He watched her without blinking. “Where’s the zipper on your dress?”

Indigo lifted a shaking finger, pointed. “You are not leaving SnowDancer.”

“Decision’s not yours to make.” Cool words, dominance shimmering beneath the surface.

Moving out from
behind the chair, she glared at him, one hand on the chair back, the other on her hip. “You’re being an idiot.”

“No, I’m being smart.” Taking a step toward her, he put his hand on the back of her neck and hauled her forward to meet his lips.

She was so shocked by the hard, fast move—though why, she didn’t know—she didn’t put up her defenses in time. Her hands flew to grip his waist, and she found herself not only giving him full access, but taking liberties of her own, her tongue tangling deliciously with his. He tasted of sin and temptation and all kinds of wicked. And her body, her body was starved for him.

When he moved both hands up to cup her face, she shivered and felt another barrier crumble. Because where the kiss ravaged, took, and demanded, his hold was almost unbearably tender. “You’re a stubborn fool,” she muttered against his mouth. “But I can’t seem to stop adoring you.”

He froze, his expression showing a sudden, unexpected vulnerability. “Don’t play with me like that, Indy.”

This time, she kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoving one hand into the rich silk of his hair to pull his mouth down to hers. “You are not leaving SnowDancer.” She bit him hard on his lower lip. “You do and we’re done.”

Slits of blue gleamed beneath lowered lashes. “I thought we were already done.”

“I changed my mind.” Fact was, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the instant she’d told him they were over—and though she’d never in a million years admit it, it would’ve destroyed her if he had taken her at her word and backed off. That wasn’t how dominant wolves courted, and somewhat to her surprise, she found she’d still been tangling with him on that level. “Would you like to argue, or would you like to go home and tear each other’s clothes off?”

The curve of his lips against hers. “I never really liked North Dakota anyway.”

Hearing the wolf’s laughter in that, she looked up, felt her eyes widen, her own wolf sitting up in shocked disbelief. “You played me!” No one had ever fooled either woman or wolf to this extent.

He nibbled on her ear. “I was serious about leaving, but I was hoping you wouldn’t let me.” A look so guileless she knew it was the wolf attempting to appear innocent.

Leaving, her foot, she thought. He’d had no intention whatsoever of doing that.

For some reason, his wickedness made her own wolf shake its head and grin. “Just for that,” she said, nipping at his chin, able to feel the eager thrust of his erection against her abdomen, “I’m going to make you finish treating me to dinner.” Her thighs tightened with anticipation, her skin shimmering with a touch-hunger only Drew could satisfy.

Taking her lips in a sweet, hot kiss, he slid his hand to her bottom, squeezed. “You’re on, Lieutenant.”

The starters and the mains passed by relatively smoothly—if Indigo disregarded the fact that Drew was eating
her
up with his eyes—but then they got to dessert. “Oh,” she all but purred as she saw what he’d ordered.

A miniature triple-chocolate baked cheesecake with lime sorbet on the side.

When he put the plate in front of himself and crooked a finger, her wolf bared its teeth but decided to play along . . . and torture him a little. Walking over, she put one hand on the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair as she settled herself on his lap. “Oh, my,” she murmured, flicking her tongue over her lower lip, “what is that I feel beneath me?”

Drew’s laugh was pained. “Witch.” Dipping the spoon into the sorbet, he brought it to her lips.

Holding her. Claiming her.

As the cool silver touched her lips, her eyes locked with his . . . and all laughter leached away. He waited, patient. “I can see your wolf,” he said to her.

Her wolf saw him, too. And it decided that this male who confused, puzzled, amused, delighted, and pleasured them in equal measures was a worthy opponent. Parting her lips, she let him slip the spoon inside. “Mmm.” It was a throaty sound of bliss as she savored the crisp taste of lime, tart and sweet at the same time.

Drew’s hand spread on her lower back as he returned to scoop up a piece of cheesecake. When he put it to her lips this time, she opened without hesitation, holding his gaze the entire time, knowing her own had gone wolf on him. Then the chocolate flavors burst to life on her tongue and she decided that Drew Kincaid had earned the mind-blowing sex she was going to give him tonight.