Pursued by a Werewolf (Mystic Isle, Book 4) (3 page)

That's why she didn't think of it often.

Thinking about it led to wanting a repeat performance.

She hadn’t had sex in over a year, so the itch was like a case of full body poison ivy at this point. The problem was she had zero interest in any of the men she’d seen recently. She’d actually gone on a date because she couldn’t drum up the interest in anything more than a few drinks and idle chit chat.

This was all his fault, she thought, staring at Hunter’s perfect profile. She hadn’t felt the same since the night they’d met.

Despite their agreement that they could be together while they’d been on the island, he never missed an opportunity on or off Mystic Isle to touch her, talk to her or tempt her. Why had she slept with the one guy who was truly nice, sexy as sin and related to Ceara’s mate?

Pulling herself out of memory lane, Avery concentrated on his form and pointed out a few corrections before quickly moving to the next person. She couldn't afford to think of Hunter Ciolek as anything more than a student. She couldn't afford to think of him at all.

Thinking of him made her want to see his handsome face and killer body. And seeing made her want to touch. And touching, well that just led to sex. Hot, sweaty, wild, werewolf sex.

More than that, it made her want wild werewolf sex over and over. Not to mention waking up next to said werewolf day after day. When she let down her guard he made her laugh and laughing was a sure-fire way to her heart.

And that was the crux of the matter. She couldn't risk her heart. She’d done that once and once was more than enough.

As the class ended, she braced herself, knowing that Hunter would seek her out. She wasn't ready to face him. The last five times they'd seen each other she'd known well in advance that she'd be spending time with him. That heads up had given her time to steel herself against the gorgeous eyes, bulging biceps and ass that wouldn't quit. Seriously, what kind of exercise did the man do to achieve an ass like that? It boggled her mind.

Maybe she should ask him.

“Ask me what?” His deep voice startled her from her thoughts and she whirled around to face him. There was a self-assured smile gracing his lips and damn, if she didn’t want to kiss them.

Instead, Avery pivoted, slinging her yoga mat bag over her shoulder.

“Stop reading my mind, Ciolek,” she said, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out. He read her mind far too easily and his nearness, not to mention that yummy accent she loved so much, made her edgy. Calming the excited flutter in her stomach was much harder.

She quickly tossed up a mental shield and took a long drink of water.

His expression didn’t change.

“It's good to see you, Avery.”

“You too. Haven’t seen you in a while.” She hated that she noticed. Or even remembered the last time their paths had crossed.

“I was in Siberia.”

Ceara had mentioned that during one of their visits. Avery hadn’t been willing to ask why he’d gone even though she’d wanted to know. She found herself thinking of him at odd times, wondering what he was doing and who he was with.

“Freeze your fanny off?”

She could see the answer to that herself; his ass was just as perfect as the day they’d met.

“Not really. Had lots of time to think.” He studied her for a long moment. He looked like he wanted to say more; his lips were parted ever so slightly.

“Well, thanks for the pointers.” Oh there he went again with the nice guy stuff.

He gave her a quick once over, the left corner of his mouth tugging up, and then he strode off, sunglasses in one hand, water bottle in the other.

That was it? In the time that she'd known him, he'd never passed up the opportunity to invite himself to lunch or help her with her bags. Subtly seductive innuendo was par for the course.

He stopped at the French doors that led out into the terrace and glanced back at her. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, she couldn't make out the look in his eyes. And then he was gone.

Alone in the boxy workout room, she stared after him, emptiness needling her.

CHAPTER THREE

Avery mentally shook off her dejection and
flashed
back to the cottage to shower and change. She was supposed to meet up with Ceara and Maxim in the main courtyard just after dark. There was no doubt in her mind she’d be seeing Hunter again at some point. But she promised herself that’s not why she tried on two different outfits before settling on the coral sundress and gold sandals.

The darkness of night arrived with a barely-there sliver of moon that hung like an ornament in the sky. Torches with scented oil lined the edge of the sandy path, flames dancing as Avery made her way back to the hotel. The shower had helped sort out her turbulent emotions, which she decided to chalk up to teaching yoga during the day when she was normally sleeping.

Half a dozen yards from the lovely stone terrace, she heard a forceful whisper. Pausing, she sought out the voice. Through the bushes she saw one of the bartenders. Cal, she thought his name was.

“Why?” He asked, his voice hoarse as if he’d been talking for hours. “Why can’t we be together?”

“You know why—” came the reply. A masculine reply.

Curiosity piqued, Avery leaned to the right and tried to see who Cal was talking to. She’d flirted with him shamelessly her first night on Mystic Isle. He’d been friendly, sweet even, but obviously not interested in her. Which was fine, it hadn’t been long after that that she’d met Hunter.

Dang. Couldn’t she go an hour without thinking of the handsome wolf?

“So one night is all we have? All we’ll ever have?” Cal asked, his voice full of emotion. His words were p1`ing.

Suddenly Avery didn’t want to hear the rest of the conversation. Not only did she not want to be caught eavesdropping, she didn’t want to get caught up in the emotional turmoil. She had enough of that on her own.

Silently, she continued along the path until she came to the terrace. The neutral colored stone was dotted with luxurious seating, flickering torches and small, frothy palms. She skirted her way around the stone planters to the courtyard where a fountain trickled, enhancing the romantic atmosphere.

Ceara Blackwell, a raven-haired beauty, was tucked into the corner of an outdoor love seat, goblet in hand. Her feet were propped up on a combination coffee table/fire pit and she had a serene, far-off look on her face.

Having a handsome werewolf at your beck-and-call would do that, Avery supposed.

“You'll never guess who was in my yoga class this evening,” she said.

Though he’d been his usual teasing self during class he’d made no indication that he wanted to see her outside the yoga studio. Something akin to disappointment left her feeling oddly deflated.

But wasn’t that what she’d wanted? To be his friend without complications? Without him wanting more? What did she care if he was here to enjoy the fruits of the island?

Ceara's dark brows inched upward. “Who?” She pointed to the goblet on the table, offering it to Avery.

Avery settled into the adjacent armchair and swirled the contents of her cocktail round and round. “Your brother-in-law.”

Mate-in-law? Avery was never sure about the semantics of immortal relationships.

“Hunter's here?” Ceara's smile could have charged batteries. The way her violet eyes brightened, there was no mistaking her feelings about Maxim’s brother. She’d adapted very well in a pack of werewolves, better than Avery had anticipated.

The once shy, sheltered vamp was now a stylish force to be reckoned with and from everything she’d seen Ceara had both Ciolek men wrapped around her pinky-finger. But Avery knew Ceara’s relationship with Hunter was strictly platonic. The young vamp had eyes for her mate and only her mate.

“You didn't know?” Avery asked, watching her friend closely. Ever since Ceara had found her mate in Maxim, she'd been not so subtly pushing Avery to find her own
raison d'être
.

Ceara shook her head and the thick dark waves of her hair shimmied around her shoulders. It wouldn’t surprise Avery in the least if her friend and former coven mate was once again trying to play matchmaker between herself and the younger Ciolek.

“What are you lovely ladies talking about?”

Avery glanced way up to see Ceara's mate smiling down at them. Like Ceara only had eyes for him, he only had eyes for his woman. One would have to be blind and deaf to miss the energy passing between the two of them. They'd been together a year and a half now and they still mooned over each other like lovesick teenagers. Truly, it made Avery a little heart sick. But she pasted on a welcoming smile.

“Your brother,” she told him.

“Have you decided you can't live without him?” Maxim murmured, staring at her as he settled onto the extra wide arm of Ceara's love seat. He picked up Ceara's free hand and entwined their fingers.

Avery looked away. She knew they meant well. Heck, it’d become a running joke within their circle. Hunter pursued her. Avery kept him at arm’s length. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Until today.

“Sorry, no. He's here. He took my yoga class today.”

The look on the wolf's face was puzzled brilliance. Comical. Priceless. His jaw dropped but he quickly snapped his mouth closed. Then he frowned, cocked his head and started again. “My brother? Tall. Dark hair. Green eyes?” he asked, holding his hand above his head. “Took a yoga class?”

The buzzing energy around them shifted and she felt the weight of someone’s stare. She looked up just in time to see Hunter slap Maxim on the shoulder. “And I'm signed up for three more.”

God’s gift to women. That was her exact thought twenty-one months ago when she’d turned to see him approaching on the volleyball court. He’d moved through the sand like every movement in his life was effortless. Six plus feet of beautiful werewolf male. Not pretty, but gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that came by once in a lifetime…if you were lucky.

His incredible sometimes-green, sometimes-brown eyes locked on her stealing her breath. They were cunning, watchful and kind. But mostly, they undressed her layer by layer until she felt absolutely and completely naked before him.

The handsome wolf smiled at each of them and then settled into the chair across from Avery's. He stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankles and rested his hands on his smooth as a pancake stomach. He looked freshly showered and shaved. The casual polo shirt and khaki shorts emphasized all the right parts of him.

Ceara smiled over at Hunter. Oh here it comes. “I didn't know you were coming to Mystic Isle.”

Avery glanced at Hunter and found him watching her. He’d always made her feel like a bombshell; the bombshell she always tried to make everyone believe she was.

Today was no different.

“Last minute decision,” he said smoothly. The heavy Ls in his accent made her toes curl.

But Avery didn't believe his answer. No way. No how. She'd been listed as one of the instructors for yoga week on the website for almost a year. Ever since the poker tournament last autumn. While Hunter wasn't a stalker, he wasn't stupid. If he knew she'd be here, there was a high likelihood that he'd planned his trip to coincide with hers.

Why, she didn't know. She'd made it clear that they couldn't be together. They'd had their few days of fun and they should leave it at that. But Hunter was a werewolf, and werewolves were tenacious.

But he certainly wasn’t his usual chatty self. Had he finally given up on a relationship? Had she ruined their friendship because she wouldn’t let it develop into something more?

“I didn't know you were into yoga,” Ceara commented.

“That's what I said,” Avery added. Though it wouldn't surprise her in the least. Yoga gave you long, lean muscle and a tight core. The kind of long, lean muscles that Hunter showed off to perfection. She could personally vouch for his inner strength and the sheer power of his core. He'd managed sexual positions the Kama Sutra didn't even mention.

The memories caused Avery to salivate.

“You guys wouldn't bat an eyelash if I was a woman,” Hunter said.

“You're not a woman,” Ceara and Maxim said in unison.

Avery could vouch for that too. He was all man.

“My point is, you're being sexist. I like yoga.” Though he kept a straight face, and stared right at her, she felt like there was something she was missing. An inside joke perhaps.

Avery was pretty sure he hadn't liked yoga before he'd met her. What was his end game? If he wasn’t interested in her anymore, why was he taking her class?

“There are better ways to get a woman's attention,” Maxim murmured.

His words seemed to shock everyone. Avery knew her eyebrows were sky high. Ceara's mouth had dropped open. Hunter's lips were set in a thin line as he cut his brother a hard stare. Then he took a deep breath.

“Avery doesn't want my attention. She's made that perfectly clear.” He leveled his gaze on her again. Those intense green-with-flecks-of-brown eyes gave nothing away. Not a trace of hurt or humor. The flickering lamp lights added a hint of mystery to his placid expression.

This wasn’t the first time the brothers had disagreed in her presence. One thing they didn’t agree on was Hunter’s continued interest in Avery, though his words belied that interest now. Was he for real? Or was he simply trying to placate his brother?

Where Maxim was the Alpha, straight-forward and uber intense, Hunter was normally playful and charming. No wonder she’d fallen for him.

Fallen into his bed, rather. She hadn’t fallen-fallen for him. Not like that. Just into his arms, bed, shower… and any other surface that could support their weight.

Who was she kidding? They’d humped like rabbits with no support at all. Just her wrapped around him like cling wrap and him thrusting away.

A distinct shiver spread across her skin like a well-fueled flame. She could feel that incredible again, if only she’d give in. But she couldn’t. She had rules for a reason.