Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1] (3 page)

his hips. He had come to a halt in the middle of the

cobblestone pathway that arched over the Eala Dibh River

and was looking out over the bridge rails at the sparkles of

sunlight on the fast-moving water. Closing his eyes, he could

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

still see her face and the look his vulgar actions had placed

upon it.

"Fuck!" he snarled beneath his breath. "Why can't I get her

out of my mind?"

He knew why. The woman had gotten under his skin and

even though she was unaware of it, she was slowly and

methodically altering his carefully arranged life. For all intents

and purposes she now belonged to him and he had the right

to do with her as he wished but the memory of her stricken

look would not leave him.

Annoyed with himself, he shoved his hands into his

pockets and continued walking. The black scowl on his face

made him that much more intimidating to those he passed

and they couldn't scramble out of his path fast enough.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Since her encounter with the Modartha, Bailey had been

uncharacteristically quiet as she went about her duties at the

state-run morgue. Striker kept his distance, picking up on her

mood, and did not tell her Kona Doyle had stopped by earlier

to speak to her.

"Tell her I'll be waiting for her when she gets off work,"

Doyle had stated.

"The Modartha stopped us yesterday," Striker told the

Resistance leader.

"So I heard," Doyle snapped. "That makes it even more

urgent that I speak with Bailey."

"They could be watching us," Striker warned.

"Let them."

"That Modartha agent scared her pretty bad," Striker said.

"He..."

"I know what the bastard did," Doyle interrupted. "That's

being handled."

At the end of the day, Striker was still hesitant to tell

Bailey about Doyle. He waited until she had finished with her

paperwork before approaching her.

"Doyle was here," he said.

Bailey flinched. "What did he want?"

"To talk to you."

She shook her head. "I don't think either of us should be

seen with him, Nate."

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"I agree." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you

should go out the back way."

"I will." She smiled at Striker but the gesture didn't reach

her eyes. They appeared wounded, haunted.

Watching her leave, Striker cursed the Modartha who had

dampened Bailey's spirit.

There was a nip to the air when Bailey opened the rear

door of the morgue and stepped out into the late afternoon

sun. Shielding her eyes against the glare, she headed out

across the loading ramp where bodies were brought into the

building. Carefully making her way down the ramp, she had

just reached the bottom when a hand snaked out to grab her

forearm.

Letting out a piercing shriek, Bailey fought the hold on her

arm until she realized it was Kona Doyle who held her. She

stopped, her heart pounding so fiercely she thought she

might pass out.

"It's me, Bailey," Doyle said, putting his arms around her.

"It's just me."

She was trembling so violently her teeth were chattering

and she was rigid in his embrace as he stroked her hair and

crooned softly to her.

"It's all right. I didn't mean to scare you," he said in a

soothing voice.

She thought it was the Modartha who had accosted her

and was ashamed of the light trickle of urine that was seeping

down her thigh. Her nerves had been on edge all day as she'd

tried to force the humiliating scene from the day before out of

her mind.

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"He'll pay for having hurt you, Sweeting," Doyle said. "I

promise you he will. When the Resistance overthrows the

government and puts our men in positions of power, the

Modartha will be disbanded and men like the one who abused

you will be incarcerated in the Dungeon until they rot!"

Bailey finally managed to get her emotions under control

and pushed against Doyle's muscular chest. She stepped

back, sweeping a hand over her face. "They could be

watching us right now, Kona," she said, casting a fearful look

around them. When she'd first become involved with the

handsome shapeshifter, she'd thought Doyle was exciting,

being with him a forbidden thrill that helped to alleviate the

monotony of her day to day life. But now—after her run-in

with the Modartha—she wasn't quite as enamored of the

outlaw and the danger he posed for her. She was afraid even

being near him would bring about her arrest.

"He's on the other side of the village and his every step is

being dogged. You don't have to worry about Byrne."

At hearing who it was who had detained her, Bailey's face

turned chalk white. "C ... colonel Crevan Byrne?" she

whispered.

"Yes, the commander of that evil den," Doyle replied. "We

believe your uncle set him on you."

Feeling even more unnerved now that she knew the

identity of the man who had waylaid her, Bailey felt her knees

weakening. "I can't do this, Doyle," she said, taking another

step back.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

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"Do you think I'd let that bastard hurt you?" Doyle asked.

He reached out for her but she eluded his hand. "Bailey, I'm a

were-beast, too."

"A were-fox," she said. "You are no match for a Modartha,

Kona."

"I can keep you safe," Doyle insisted.

Bailey kept moving away from him, shaking her head in

denial. "No, you can't. I don't want to go to prison, Kona."

With an exasperated hiss, Doyle rushed toward her and

grabbed her, bringing her against him once again. "You don't

have to worry. That won't happen. I will protect you."

It was on the tip of her tongue that he hadn't protected

her the night before but she didn't get the chance for he

lowered his head and slanted his mouth across hers. He was

pressing himself against her and she could not keep from

comparing his body with that of the man from the day before.

Thoughts of his hard physique straining against hers all but

erased the feel of Doyle's fevered clench. She jerked away.

Doyle's lips tightened and his eyes flashed blue fire at her.

"What's the matter?" he asked and his tone was a bit too

harsh for her liking.

"I'm tired of being manhandled in public," she said, wiping

the back of her hand across her lips. "Twice in that many

days is more than enough."

Though he stiffened at seeing her wiping away his kiss,

Doyle nodded. "I understand."

She held up a hand when he reached out to her again. "I

need to get home before curfew," she said and didn't wait for

him to reply. She turned and hurried away.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

She did not see the fury that flashed across Kona Doyle's

face.

Not bothering to take the public transportation line that

ran past the morgue and up to the apartment complex where

she lived, she wrapped her arms around her—drawing in on

her nervousness—and set out at a fast pace. She ignored

everyone she passed and kept her head down. The last thing

she wanted was to encounter someone she knew. All she

needed was the quiet safety and perfect protection of her

home.

It took Bailey less than half an hour to make it to the

bottom of the steps that led up to the government-owned

complex and the apartment she'd been assigned. She took

the steps two at a time and once at the main door, leaned

forward for the iris scanner to read the unique random

patterns of her iris. When the door cycled open, she hurried

inside, disdaining the use of the elevator and practically

running up the three flights to her apartment. Once at her

door, she slapped her palm against the scanner there and the

pneumatic door slid silently open.

The interior of her apartment was cool, as she preferred it,

and it was dark since she had pulled the drapes closed before

leaving that morning. Though she was not required to pay for

the utilities, she nevertheless tried to conserve as much

energy as possible.

"Lights, on," she said quietly. She was photo-phobic and

bright lights bothered her so she had programmed the lights

in her apartment to come up slowly in brightness. Turning

down the short hallway to her left that led to her

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bedchamber, she saw the lights in her bedchamber come on.

Behind her, the lights in the living area came on as well.

Kicking her shoes off, Bailey pulled the short gown over

her head and laid it on the bed. It wasn't dirty and could be

worn again the next day. In only her panties and bra, she

went into the bathing chamber, opened the shower door, and

turned on the water that was preset to the very warm

temperature. She shut the shower door, removed the rest of

her clothing and tossed it into the hamper. With the steam

already forming inside the shower, she opened the shower

door and quickly stepped inside, sighing as the water

cascaded over her tired body.

Showers were a luxury for Bailey. More than a bath, they

were a way she recharged her internal battery and as the

water swirled down the drain, she let the daily annoyances,

and disappointments flow with it.

She bathed, shaved her legs and underarms, mentally

making note of how much she now had in discretionary

savings accumulating toward the rather expensive laser hair

removal treatments for her arms and legs that she longed to

have. She looked down at the wiry triangle at the apex of her

thighs and and tallied the cost of visiting the laserologist.

She sighed. "You're a vain woman, Bailey MacKenna," she

said. "Who's going to see you down there?"

The gray eyes of the Modartha flitted across her mind and

she drew in a breath. She hastily turned off the water as

though it had suddenly scalded her and stood there with chills

bumps forming on her arms.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

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"Why can't you stop thinking about that horrible man?" she

asked herself. With teeth clenched, she pushed open the

shower door, snatched a towel off the wall bar, and wrapped

the terry-cloth around her, angrily tucking the end between

her breasts. She unclipped the twist of hair on her head and

ran her fingers through it, shaking it out so the light brown

tresses lay on her wet shoulders.

Her stomach growling, she shoved her feet into a pair of

slippers and padded out of the bathing chamber, through her

bedchamber, down the hall and started toward the kitchen

when something caught her attention in the living area. She

turned her head and froze like a deer in headlights.

He was sitting in her favorite chair with his right leg

crossed over the left at the ankle. His hands were clamped on

the curved arms of the chair and he was looking right at her.

Gone was his uniform, replaced with a white silk shirt the

arms of which were rolled halfway up his powerful forearms

and charcoal gray slacks and black boots. In his left ear, he

wore a silver hoop that caught the flare of the lamp beside

the chair.

Bailey couldn't move. Her green eyes were like saucers as

she stared at him. For a brief moment she wondered how he

could have gained access to her quarters but realized that as

a Modartha—and the commander of that elite band—he could

go wherever he liked with ease.

"Come here," he said. His voice was deep, husky and had

about it a tone that did not permit denial of his wishes.

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Spring Wind [Seasonal Winds Book 1]

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Having to force one foot ahead of the other, Bailey walked

toward him, hearing the blood rushing through her ears.

When she was about two feet away from him, she stopped.

He tilted his head to one side. "Did I say stop, wench?"

Breath coming in ragged inhalations, Bailey came closer

until she was practically knee to knee with him. She could not

look away from the silver glints in his unblinking gaze.

He uncrossed his leg and spread his knees wide. "Kneel

down." It was said softly but it carried a weight of demand

with it.

Clutching the towel at her breasts, Bailey dropped as

gracefully as she could to her knees. She fastened her

attention on the sharp crease that ran along his pant leg.

"Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she lifted her eyes to his. What she

saw made her chin tremble. His face was expressionless but