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Authors: Jess Tami; Haines Angie; Dane Alexandra; Fox Ivy

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BOOK: The Real Werewives of Vampire County

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“A cur.” Curs were humans who’d been bitten instead of being born a pure-blooded Were. They were capable of shifting, but they couldn’t control the shifts as a Were could, and they weren’t immortal, although their lifespan was greatly increased. “Well, more or less.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s been turned, I can smell it, but he’s a pathetic excuse for a cur.” The image of his short, pudgy body and pasty face turned Sophia’s stomach. “He’s an embarrassment to curs everywhere. I’ve never encountered such a timid creature.”

He stepped forward, pressing her body against the wall. “Not your type at all.”

“You know nothing of my type.”

Lowering his head, he allowed his lips to brush over the racing pulse at the base of her throat.

“I know I’m it.”

Hell, they both knew he was it.

She was going up in flames from a mere touch.

What would happen if he actually kissed her?

Not about to stay around and find out, she shoved her hands against his chest.

“Ugh,” she muttered, marching around him and down the stairs.

It was bad enough that she’d spent the day dodging bullets. She wasn’t going to make it worse by becoming another victim to Luc’s fatal charm.

She had no doubt there were enough of them littering the streets of Miami.

Luc finished his sweep of the office building and was pulling his black Mercedes SL550 Roadster past the uniformed guard who was opening the gates of Sophia’s neighborhood when his cell phone beeped.

A glance at the flashing ID and he grimaced, knowing he couldn’t ignore the call.

Turning up the car stereo, he put the phone to his ear. There were too many demons with superior hearing to take chances.

“What’s up?” he demanded, sighing at his caller’s response. “
Sí.
I’m headed back to her house now.” His jaw tightened. “No, she doesn’t suspect anything. Not yet. But she’s too smart for me to fool for long.” There was another burst of sharp words. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll keep in touch.”

Tossing his phone into the passenger seat, Luc parked his car at the end of the tree-lined street. Then, briefly considering the benefits of shifting, he gave a shake of his head and jogged toward Sophia’s house.

He’d already called his wolf to search the office building. His human form couldn’t begin to match his wolf senses, but while he was stronger than most Weres, he didn’t want to waste unnecessary energy.

Not when he couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t need to protect Sophia.

Reaching the nearly half acre of parkland surrounding Sophia’s house, he did a swift search of the grounds, including the pool house, before entering her home through the patio doors.

He’d checked through her living room, a guest bedroom, and the fully equipped gym before heading to the kitchen.

Not surprisingly, he found Sophia leaning against the marble counter, her arms folded across her chest. She would have sensed him the moment he entered her yard.

Halting in the center of the ceramic-tiled floor, Luc allowed his gaze to run over her slender body barely covered by a lacy red camisole and matching silk shorts.

He bit back a growl, his gaze lifting to the beautiful face framed by the pale golden hair.

The lust he didn’t mind. What male wouldn’t be hot and bothered by the sight of a gorgeous, half-naked female?

But the sense of recognition from his wolf, as if she ... belonged to him, was unnerving.

Especially when the emerald eyes were glowing with a warning that was far from welcoming.

“Do your duties include breaking and entering?”

He deliberately glanced toward the door leading from the breakfast nook onto the patio. A dew fairy could break the flimsy-ass lock.

“No, but they include an inspection of your alarm system.”

She snorted. “I’m a pure-blooded Were. That’s all the alarm system I need.”

Scowling at her nonchalant tone, he turned back with a glare of frustration.

Dios.

Did she know how her seeming lack of concern was challenging his wolf to do whatever necessary to protect her?

“Obviously not if some lunatic has managed to wander around your place without getting caught,” he growled.

“The lunatic always trespassed when I was at the club.” She allowed her gaze to drift down to his heavy boots and back to his narrowed eyes. “At least until tonight.”

“You need an alarm system.”

She heaved a purely feminine sigh of exasperation at his stubborn expression.

“Did you find anything at the office building?”

He moved past her to open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of perfectly chilled beer. Twisting off the cap, he downed half of it in one swallow.

“I found that the secretary from the insurance claims company is staying late to burn the midnight oil with the janitor.”

“Midnight oil?”

He smiled. “And that the loan officer is sleeping on the couch in his office. No doubt his wife kicked him out.”

Her gaze lingered a tantalizing moment on his lips before she was visibly squaring her shoulders.

“Fascinating.”

“That was just the first floor.”

“Did you find any clues that might lead us to my stalker?”

“Nothing.” He polished off the beer and tossed the bottle into the recycle bin. “Which means they’re very, very good. Or very, very lucky.”

“So you basically have jack squat?”

He ignored her taunt, moving until he could grasp the counter on either side of her hips, effectively trapping her.

He was going to get answers.

One way or another.

“Actually, I have a question.”

She stiffened, her power swirling through the air. Oddly, however, she made no move to shove him away.

“Let me get this straight,” she mocked instead. “You break into my house at an ungodly hour. You help yourself to my private stash of imported beer. Now, having absolutely zero information for me, you expect me to play Twenty Questions.” She tilted her chin. “And, for the true cherry topper, I’m supposed to pay you a weekly wage for the privilege?”

His gaze swept down to the delectable glimpse of her breasts beneath the red lace.

“Yeah, but I’ll throw in the night of mind-blowing sex for free.”

He heard her heart miss a beat, the scent of her ready response more enticing than any perfume.

Still she held herself rigid, clearly as wary as he was by the potent force of their attraction.

“What’s your question?” she asked huskily.

“Tell me what you’re hiding from me.”

Her eyes widened before she was hastily smoothing her expression.

“Hiding?” She lifted her brow, trying to brazen her way past his question. “What the hell makes you think that I’m hiding something?”

“A pure-blooded Were doesn’t hire a bodyguard just because she’s being harassed.”

The realization had struck him as he watched her flounce away from him in the stairwell. He’d started to halt her retreat then and there to demand an answer, but the rigid line of her spine had warned she wasn’t in the mood to cooperate.

And in truth, he’d still been so cranked at being led around like a dunce by the mystery gunman that he knew he was bound to make matters worse if he tried to pry the truth from her.

Now he wasn’t going to leave until he knew exactly what the hell was going on.

“My son-in-law made me promise I wouldn’t kill any of my neighbors the day I moved in.” She tried to hold her ground. “He didn’t say I couldn’t hire someone else to kill for me.”

“Dammit, Sophia, I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me,” he snapped. “Tell me.”

They glared at one another, the air filled with a sizzling heat as they both fought a silent battle for dominance.

At last Sophia muttered a curse, sensing his grim determination.

“The harassment has been annoying, but I would have ignored it if I hadn’t started feeling like I was being hunted,” she grudgingly confessed.

“Hunted.” He latched on to the revealing word. “Not followed?”

A shadow darkened her beautiful eyes. “It’s been more than some pervert lurking in the bushes and peering in my window.”

“Explain.”

“I can’t.” Her sharp tone didn’t entirely disguise her unease. “I just know that there’s been someone shadowing my movements for the past week. And there have been”—she turned her head to glance out the window, as if hoping to hide her expression—“incidents.”

“What incidents?”

“One day I was crossing the street and I was nearly run over by a car. The next day I was jogging through the park and I was attacked by a rabid pit bull. Then, two days ago, I was nearly brained by a stone urn that fell from the top of a building I was walking past.”

Luc’s fingers tightened on the granite counter, his wolf enraged by the mere thought of someone terrorizing this female.

His
female.

When he finally got his hands on the stalker, he was going to make the coward very, very sorry.

“Why didn’t you tell me this from the beginning?” he demanded, his voice thick.

She turned back to stab him with a glare. “In case you missed the memo, I’ve been trying to get rid of you, not give you a reason to stay.”

No, he’d gotten the memo.

His brooding gaze slid down to the sensuous curve of her mouth before returning to the emerald fire burning in her eyes.

“And you thought if I discovered someone’s been trying to kill you instead of just harassing you that I would be more likely to stay?”

“Of course,” she said, regarding him as if he were being particularly dense. “You’re an alpha.”

“True.”

“Which means you turn into a caveman when you think there’s a damsel in distress that might need your protection.” Her gaze warned him not to even try to deny the truth of her words. “I don’t blame you. It’s all that testosterone rotting your brain.”

As if being drawn by a magnet, his gaze returned to her lips, all too easily imagining the havoc they could wreak as they moved down his body.

“It does more than rot my brain. Do you want me to demonstrate?”

CHAPTER 3

H
ell, yeah.

She wanted him to demonstrate so badly she could barely breathe.

Which was exactly why she needed him gone.

Becoming involved with an alpha male was insanity under the best of circumstances.

Add in an unknown maniac trying to kill her, and her wolf’s bizarre need to mark him so that every other female would know he was off-limits, and it became a recipe for disaster.

“See?” she accused as he stroked his lips over her cheek. “Caveman.”

He shifted to nip the lobe of her ear. “There are benefits.”

Oh ... Christ.

She could already feel the benefits. They were melting through her body, making her knees weak and her hips press with restless need against the hard thrust of his growing erection.

In a minute she was going to rip off his clothes and push him onto the ceramic tiles.

Or maybe onto the breakfast table.

She wasn’t particular so long as it was hot and sweaty and lasted until she was too sated to move.

Vivid images of straddling that bronzed, perfect body had her abruptly shoving him away so she could head for the door.

“It’s late, go away,” she muttered, ignoring her wolf, which snarled in frustration.

She didn’t truly expect him to obey her order. Luc was a Were who would do what he wanted, when he wanted. But she hadn’t expected him to actually sweep her off her feet, cradling her against his magnificent chest as he headed toward the nearby stairs.

“What the hell?” she rasped.

“You’re right. It’s late.” He smiled down at her furious expression. “You should be in bed.”

A jolt of white-hot excitement speared through her.

Dammit.

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I won’t hurt you?”

“I’m your bodyguard.” With astonishing ease he carried up the curved steps and down the hall to enter her bedroom. He never paused as he crossed the silver carpet that accented the black and white décor. At last reaching the ebony slipper bed, he laid her on the white and black striped comforter and straightened to study her with a hooded gaze. “It’s my duty to tuck you in.”

She pushed herself into a seated position, leaning against the pile of silver pillows.

“Your duty?”

The dark eyes ran a hungry survey down the length of her body, his own body tense as he struggled to leash the desire pulsing in the air.

“There might be a bit of pleasure mixed in.”

She shivered. Not only from the rough edge in his voice that warned he was holding on by a thread, but by the possessive glow in those dark eyes.

“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” she breathed.

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t like Neanderthals.”

“I can be as sensitive as the next guy.” His gaze shifted to the expanse of pale skin exposed by her tiny camisole. “With the proper motivation.”

She could physically feel the heat of his gaze, caressing over her with a searing pleasure.

Dammit, why couldn’t he be just another stunningly hot guy whom she could use and abuse and toss aside when she was done?

“You’re going to try to boss me around,” she accused in frustration, “telling me what I can and can’t do—”

“I’m going to keep you alive,” he interrupted.

“I won’t be caged.” She shook her head. “Not again.”

She regretted the words as soon as they slipped from her lips, abruptly turning to study the original Rembrandt etchings that hung on her wall.

“Sophia.” She felt the mattress dip beneath Luc’s considerable weight as he perched on the edge of the bed. When she refused to acknowledge his presence, he reached to cup her cheek in his hand and tugged her to meet his searching gaze. “Talk to me.”

“You’ve done your duty, now leave me alone,” she snapped.

His thumb brushed her lower lip. “Sophia.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me why you think I would try to cage you.”

She gave a restless lift of her shoulder. “It’s just an expression.”

“It’s more than that,” he stubbornly insisted. “Tell me.”

“Luc.”

“Please.”

She stilled in surprise. She’d bet her favorite Hermès handbag that this man had never said the
P
word more than once or twice in his very long existence.

The fact he’d lowered his pride to use it now undermined any hope of resisting his soft plea.

“You know the history of our people,” she hedged, feeling dangerously vulnerable.

“That covers a lot of ground.”

“For far too long we have hovered on the edge of extinction.”

“Yes, but that is all about to change now that Salvatore has destroyed the demon lord,” he pointed out, referring to the King of Weres’ recent battle with the demon who’d been draining them of their powers for centuries. “Already our strength is returning. Even those ancient powers that have been nearly forgotten.” His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “Dangerous powers.”

“I suppose you’re referring to Salvatore discovering that Harley is his true mate?”

He nodded. “As I said ... dangerous.”

Sophia had to agree with him.

True matings between Weres had become nothing more than a distant legend until Salvatore’s shocking bond with Harley. Now there were rumors of more and more purebloods becoming mated.

What would it feel like to know she was irrevocably tied to a mate?

That never again would she desire another in her bed?

She told herself that it was a horrifying thought.

And she almost believed it.

“Salvatore seems disgustingly pleased with himself, and I have to admit Harley is content.”

His fingers traced the line of her jaw. “But you’re still haunted by our past?”

Haunted?

It sounded dramatic, but Sophia couldn’t deny it captured the memories that refused to leave her in peace.

“I was one of less than a dozen females capable of becoming pregnant,” she abruptly admitted.

He stilled. “A breeder.”

“Nice,” she muttered, oddly offended by the term used for those rare fertile females.

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I never considered the burden you must have carried.”

It had been more than a burden. Without their usual powers, the Were females had not only become increasingly infertile, but they’d lost the ability to control their shifts during their pregnancies.

It had nearly been the end of purebloods.

“When a race is trying to survive, we must all do our part,” she said, doing her best to keep the lingering pain hidden.

Typically, Luc wasn’t fooled.

“And we all must bear the scars,” he said softly, something in his voice suggesting that he had a few unwelcome memories of his own.

“Yes.”

He studied her in silence, his fingers continuing to wreak havoc with her senses as they stroked along her cheek and then tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear.

“How many children did you lose?”

She flinched at the low question. “Hundreds.”

“Oh ...
cara.
”

Her eyes lowered, unable to bear the sympathy gleaming in the dark eyes.

“I swore I was done when Salvatore convinced me to try one more time.” Her gut knotted. She wanted to forget those days of being nothing more than a breeding machine, expected to try and carry a litter year after endless year. “He wanted to alter the DNA of my babies so they couldn’t shift and would be more likely to carry a child to full-term.”

“And spare them the pain you endured.”

Her lips twisted. “That was the plan.”

“And it worked.” There was an unmistakable pride in his voice. “The entire Were nation celebrated your four miraculous daughters.”

“Who were promptly stolen from the nursery,” she reminded him, unwilling to reveal her confusion of emotions when she’d manage to produce her daughters, only to have them disappear. The anger, the dread, the overriding fear that made her emotionally distance herself from the children whom she’d never been allowed to hold in her arms. “I spent the past thirty years searching for my daughters.”

“And now?”

“Now it’s ‘me time.’ ” She met his steady gaze with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “No responsibilities, no one depending on me, no one trying to control me. Got it?”

Luc got it.

He really did.

This female had spent her entire life with the fate of her people resting on her shoulders.

Was it any wonder she was so skeevy to maintain her independence?

Unfortunately she was in danger.

And even if he wasn’t plagued by an ever-increasing need to protect her, he would be bound by his duty to keep her safe.

Regardless if it meant forcing her to accept his help.

And making an enemy of her in the bargain.

He hissed at the strangely painful thought, his hand shifting to trace the line of her slender throat.

“I got it,
cara,
” he gently assured her, “but it doesn’t change the fact that someone’s trying to hurt you.”

She made a sound of annoyance. “Which is why I hired a bodyguard.”

He smiled, his wolf smug as she allowed his fingers to savor the satin skin of her neck.

It was an intimate touch that spoke of trust. And to his wolf ... possession.

“So at least you agree that I’m hired?”

“I suppose,” she muttered. “God only knows what Troy would come up with next.”

“Good.” He ignored her blatant lack of enthusiasm. Once he was certain she was safe, he would concentrate on teaching her the pleasure of having him as her personal bodyguard. “Then tomorrow you pack a bag.”

He felt her heart leap beneath his fingers. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m taking you to Miami.”

She swore, batting away his hand as her eyes glowed with a dangerous power.

“No way in hell.”

He swallowed his growl at her direct challenge. It was time for reasoning with the female, not ... what had she said? Going caveman on her?

“Once I know you’re out of the line of fire, I can concentrate on locating your homicidal neighbor.”

“No.”

“Sophia.”

“No,” she repeated, an edge of finality in her voice. “I just moved into this house and started my business. I’m not going to run and hide like a gutless mist sprite.”

“It would only be for a few days.”

“You can’t know that.” She held his gaze, silently warning him she wouldn’t be screwed with. “It could take you weeks or even months.”

His teeth clenched. “Then stay with one of your daughters until I’ve cleared up this mess.”

“And put them in even more danger?” She shook her head. “No way.”

His fingers encircled her neck, not in a threat, just an expression of frustration.

“You are ...”

“The boss.”

Their gazes clashed and Luc swiftly shifted through his limited options.

He could physically force her to go to Miami. He had the brute strength and the training necessary to manhandle all but the king.

But even as the thought raced through his mind, he was dismissing it.

He knew without a doubt that turning her into his virtual prisoner, even if it was for her own good, would break something fragile inside her.

“
Obstinada,
” he breathed, leaning down to yank off his boots.

Then, ignoring her sudden scowl, he rose from the bed to strip off his T-shirt. He had tugged off his belt and was unzipping his pants when she found her voice.

“If you’re auditioning for a position at my club, I have to warn you we only take experienced dancers,” she rasped.

He shrugged, pulling down his pants and kicking them aside to stand in nothing but his black satin boxers.

“If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed ...”

“Then he gets kicked in his nuts?”

He stretched out on the mattress beside her, hiding a smile as he caught her covert gaze ogling his thickly muscled legs before lifting to linger on the broad expanse of his chest.

She might want him gone, but that didn’t keep her from lusting after his body.

And frankly he was good with that.

BOOK: The Real Werewives of Vampire County

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