Prymal Lust (6 page)

“Your father doesn’t seem to have a favorable opinion of SEALs.” Senior Chief Johnson folded his arms and stared at Mishe.

Mishe shot Johnson a glare. He barked, “Wrong. My father, like the rest of the Prakov family, has nothing but admiration for those who serve our country. Tania, let’s head out. Gentlemen, we’ll see you later at the dinner and dance.”

Dazed and discombobulated, Tania didn’t resist when Mishe ushered her through the bustling throngs milling around and into an elevator. They rode in silence. Tania, too confused to tame her reeling speculation, Mishe busy thumbing his cell’s screen.

“What’s up with you?” He bent down to whisper the question.

Startled, she tried to get ahold of her roiling emotions. Her heartbeat sounded like a marching drum band in her ears. Had she used enough of Eva’s scent mask to disguise her pandemic fear and arousal?

Think. Think.

Change the subject.

“Do you think Dad will kill the Senior Chiefs both or just Jaz?”

Mishe sniggered. “Wouldn’t want to be in any of their shoes right now.”

The elevator dinged open and Mishe guided her down a long, shadowed hallway.

“Where are we?”

“Basement.” Mishe opened one side of a huge red double door and an enormous room came into view. “The dinner and dance are being held there.”

Heck no.

No way could she sit through a never ending dinner and dance.

Escape.

No way could she function normally in
his
presence.

“I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head back to the hotel.” She halted and spun around.

“Tanichika.
You’re
going to abandon, Jaz?”

She peered up at the brother who’d defended her right to have a career. Remembered how he, Jaz, and Breede had bullied and persuaded her father into allowing her to rent an apartment and live on her own. “I can’t, can I?”

Mishe stroked his jaw and stared at her. “It’s the senior chief, isn’t it? You went white as snow when Jaz introduced the two chiefs. Have you met Johnson before?”

Glad she could answer honestly, Tania declared, her voice firm, “Never laid eyes on the man. I’m just shocked. That’s all. I didn’t have a clue Jaz wants to be a SEAL. He’s my twin. We’ve never kept secrets.”

“Jaz is also a wolf coming into his alpha. You have to know that things are going to change. Come on. Let’s find our table and then I’ll buy us both a stiff drink. Jaz sure managed to blindside everyone.” Mishe plowed a hand through his wavy chestnut hair.

“Dad’s furious.”

“Tell me about it.” Mishe set his hand to the small of her back and urged her forward.

“Can Dad do anything to stop Jaz?” Tania scanned the nametags stacked in front of each chair.

“From the info I got when I just Googled SEALs and being accepted for BUD/S training—no. I’ve got to give Jaz full credit. He handled this perfectly. It’s a done deal. There’s nada Dad can do to stop him. You two have never been far apart before. You going to be okay with this?”

Trust Mishe to be more concerned about her feelings than Dad’s anger. “I want what Jaz wants. We’ve always had each other’s backs.”

“It’s a perfect outlet for him. Breede and I have our future roles clearly established. As the youngest son, Jaz inherits dick all.” Mishe had flown through Harvard’s law school. Upon graduation, he had joined Wasserman and Litchfield, the legal firm the Senior Council retained, and one of the most prestigious practices in the country. Mishe had bought into the firm and the announcement of his new managing partner position was imminent.

Tania hated the inheritance laws almost as much as she hated the mate alliance laws. The oldest son had all the power. Breede would inherit the business her father ran, Kiev Insurance. Mishe and Jaz, as younger sons, would be expected to forge their own futures. Neither would receive a penny from either Kiev Insurance or the Prakov family fortune. Not that either Mishe or Jaz would accept any handouts. They were both too alpha for that.

What would Dad do about Jaz? Worse, what would Uncle Viktor force Dad to do to her twin? Viktor, the Prakov Alpha, ruled with a dictatorial fist.

Oh gawd, Uncle Viktor would have a meltdown. Lately, her uncle had been prone to fly into rages at the slightest violation of a Wylfen law or tradition.

She couldn’t blame her uncle for being so touchy, though. His only son and heir, Robert, had recently been killed by a serial killer the media had named “The Condo Sniper.”

“But, why has Jaz been so secretive about this? Why didn’t he follow the rules and apply for the Senior Council’s permission to change career fields?” Tania didn’t think they could exile her twin for his infraction, but he would be castigated and forced to do some sort of harsh penance.

“The Senior Council would never have agreed to Jaz becoming a SEAL.”

“Why not? They allowed him to enlist. And go to military school so he could become an officer.” But, why hadn’t Jaz told her? Now she understood her twin’s reference to her backing him tonight.

“Breede, Dad, and I had to use all our influence to get The Senior Council to allow Jaz to enlist and attend military school. But, it was the fact that Jaz could specialize in Cyber Warfare that tipped the decision in his favor. That plus the fact that the Senior Council’s Russian bank system had been hacked, which resulted in the bank losing millions.”

Tania recalled the incident vaguely. “The Senior Council were never going to allow him to remain in the Navy, were they? They wanted Jaz working for them. For their banks.”

“Hit the nail on the head.”

“The Council’s not going to be pleased.” What reaction would those sour old men have? No one defied their edicts. At least not in her short life span.

“Understatement of the year, Tanichika.” Mishe’s grim tone had Tania’s stomach curdling.

“I still don’t get what’s so wrong about him becoming a SEAL.” Tania had a sinking hunch Jaz had bought himself a torrent of Senior Council trouble. Maybe even exile.

“SEALs are expensive and valuable commodities. The Navy’s not going to spend time and money training Jaz and then let him go. Besides that SEALs are notorious for their loyalty to each other first and foremost.”

“Ah. I get it. SEAL rules will come before Wylfen laws.” She linked her hands together and twiddled her thumbs. “Will they exile him?”

Mishe shrugged. “Don’t think it will come to that. Jaz has skills the Council needs. The real issue is the extent of The Senior Council’s power.”

Both Mishe and Breede were part of a growing movement to adjust the ancient Wylfen laws to modern society and diffuse the council’s absolute authority.

Not wanting to probe Jaz’s likely punishment from the Senior Council further, Tania jumped on the topic change. “How’re the recommendations coming?”

“Slower than a slug. We’re our own worst enemies. Can’t agree on a sentence far less which laws we should target first. I proposed the mate alliance laws, but the majority wants the inheritance laws tackled first. To be expected, I guess with so many younger sons making up the pack and having no set futures to look forward to.”

“Uncle Viktor wants Dad to add my name to the Mate Alliance Registry. I wish you were going to concentrate on those first.”

She gripped her purse tighter when wide shoulders came into view. A hysterical dread settled, heavy and dank, on her ribcage. For half a second, she thought it was Senior Chief Smith, but her panic abated when Senior Chief Johnson’s symmetrical features came into focus.

Letting out a relieved sigh, she attempted a smile. “Senior Chief Johnson. We were just looking for our table.”

“We’re all at table eleven, right at the end over there.” He pointed to the far side of the hall.

“Your eyesight must be spectacular,” Mishe said, giving the other man a head-to-toe raking.

“Have to have twenty/twenty vision to get the trident.”

“Adjustable twenty/twenty,” Mishe corrected.

Eyebrows climbing in disbelief, Tania asked, “How’d you know that?”

“Googled the requirements for a SEAL right after Jaz’s little surprise, remember?” Mishe gave her a how-quick-you-forget headshake.

Tania’s cheeks warmed. “Duh-uh.”

She smelled Senior Chief Smith before his face appeared above Johnson’s shoulder. His unique blend of powerful and blatant arousal heralded his arrival.

Smith snorted and punched Johnson’s shoulder. “Don’t let him snow you, Prakov. We scouted the hall before the ceremony.”

Tania frowned. How on earth had Smith heard their whole conversation? Had he been standing near them all along? And how could such a colossal and heavily muscled man move with such stealth?

Praying no one noticed her trembling all over, she edged closer to Mishe.

“Expecting trouble?” Mishe stiffened and shifted so his body half blocked hers.

“No more than usual. Relax, it’s a built-in function of a SEAL to never trust anyone else’s security. Habit, that’s all. Shall we head to our seats? Anyone want a libation?” Tania’s knees wobbled when Senior Chief Johnson winked at her.

“I’ll get the drinks. What’s your poison?” Smith addressed the question to Mishe.

Tania stole a sidelong glance at Smith. His profile and the stubborn set of his jaw alerted her to his tension right away.

“Vodka, straight up. Belvedere if they have it.” Mishe had spent four summers in Siberia and had developed a definite taste for the Russian originated alcohol.

“And for you ma’am?” Senior Chief Smith’s sexy rumble had her reaching for a chair back for support. Steel and scorn laced his final word.

How dare he be contemptuous of her?

Taunted, she raised her head and met his glare full on. “tequila. Lime and salt.”

“Coming right up.”

Had he emphasized the word coming, or was she being totally paranoid?

Tania followed Smith’s retreating back. She salivated over his wide shoulders and the narrow waist emphasized by the dress jacket he wore.

Mishe’s cell flashed and the strains of Def Leppard’s
Pour Some Sugar On Me
echoed in the now rapidly filling cavernous room. He held the phone to his ear and strode to one side leaving her alone with Senior Chief Johnson.

“Allow me to escort you to your seat, Ms. Prakov.”

“Please call me Tania, Senior Chief Johnson.” She flinched when he cupped her elbow, but followed his lead.

“My first name is Lycus.” He pulled out a chair. “I believe you’re right here. As luck would have it, I’m right beside you, Tania.”

“And Senior Chief Smith? His first name, I mean.” She stumbled a little getting into her seat.

Damn it.

She shouldn’t have blurted that question. She’d gone insane. How else to explain this desperate need to know everything about him? To crawl all over him. To taste him. Crap. This was ten times more powerful than it had been in the gym. Or in the shower.

“Axe.” Senior Chief Smith snuck up on her. Again.

Tania almost knocked the plate acting as a tray for a filled shot glass, a salt shaker, and a wedge of lime out of the Senior Chief’s hands.

“I’m sorry?” The shot glass vibrated when Tania accepted the proffered dish and set the solid white plate onto the table.

“My given name is Axe Richard Smith.” He picked up Breede’s name tag, which was on the other side of hers, and switched it with the one opposite. He showed it to her.

Axe R. Smith
, she read.

The contrast of his bronzed thumb against the white paper bemused her. He had talented thumbs. Her clit throbbed in memory.

She grabbed the salt shaker, licked the back of her hand, dusted the white substance on her skin, snatched the shot glass, and downed the alcohol. A fiery burn slid down her throat.

He moved so quickly his finger blurred when he held the lime to her mouth. Tania couldn’t draw in a breath. All she could do was stare at the green slice.

“Suck it,” his low, rumbled command had her creaming.

Tania squeezed her thighs together and glanced up at him. Without a moment’s hesitation, she sucked on the tart citrus slice while locked onto his gaze.

Clang! Clang!

Tania spit the wedge into her hand and whipped around to find the source of the sudden noise.

“My bad.” Lycus retrieved his knife from the floor. “Here come your parents and your brother. According to the recently adjusted seating arrangements” —he smirked at Axe— “your father’s at the head of the table along with your uncle and aunt and their daughter.”

Absently, she said, “Daughter-in-law. My uncle and aunt had only one child. A son. Robert.”

“I see.” Senior Chief Johnson appeared totally bored with her volunteered information.

Grateful for the interruption and the warning, Tania shoved the plate, shot glass, shaker, and squished lime slice under the floral centerpiece nearest to her.

“I take it your parents don’t know you drink.” Axe angled his head to the evidence she’d hidden.

“My father thinks tequila is unladylike. He prefers I drink wine or champagne.” Tania answered on autopilot. She touched the perfume pulse points behind her ears. Had she applied enough of Eva’s scent mask? Her father’s sense of smell hadn’t diminished one whit as he approached his sixtieth decade. She
had
showered twice.

“And do you always do what your father prefers?” Axe scraped his chair closer to the table and stirred a glass half full of amber liquid.

His sexy aroma furled around her and compounded the intoxicating effects of the tequila shot. She sneaked another peek at him. He had his scarred cheek to her side. She studied the intricate white lines and made out what looked like an oriental symbol within a mass of intricate zigzags.

“I can move if my scars offend you that much,” he muttered before shooting her a scowl that could spear a moving target.

The strains of a waltz resonated through the dining hall.

“I thought the dancing didn’t happen until after the dinner.” Tania scowled at the musicians crowding a narrow podium to the right of the head table.

She focused on her pink painted nails all the while fussing about Axe thinking his scars offended her. Had made her light out like a hit and run driver. A waterfall of shame and remorse heated her from within.