Chapter 4
It was late afternoon when Sophia woke.
Considering that dawn had already crested when she’d at last fallen asleep, it was no surprise she’d slept late.
It was, however, a surprise to realize that she was not only wrapped in Luc’s strong arms, but that she’d molded herself so tightly to his body that she might as well have been a damned barnacle on the bottom of a ship.
Her head was tucked beneath his chin, her ear pressed over the steady beat of his heart, and she had one leg thrown over his hip.
Pathetic.
Sensing he was awake and well aware of her embarrassment, she tilted back her head, intending to slay him with a heated glare.
Instead she forgot how to breathe.
Holy ... shit, but he was beautiful.
Achingly, shatteringly beautiful.
Helplessly her gaze wandered over the chiseled male features that were only emphasized by his heavy morning beard and his tousled hair. The high cheekbones, the wide brow, the near-black eyes that could make a woman melt at a hundred paces.
It wasn’t until his lips parted to reveal the teeth that were shockingly white against his bronzed skin that she was reminded that she wanted to punch him in his perfect nose, not ...
Other things.
Wicked, delicious other things.
“If you intended to use this side of the bed you should have said so last night,” she informed him, shifting her hands from his back to press them against his chest.
He smiled at her with a lazy satisfaction. “You were the one who wanted me to be more sensitive.”
“I said I didn’t want you acting like a caveman,” she corrected. “Besides there’s nothing sensitive in groping me while I’m asleep.”
His hands drifted over her hips, touching her with a familiarity that should have been offensive, not exciting.
“You were whimpering and tossing around until I at last took you in my arms,” he claimed. “Once I had you tucked against me you slept like a baby.”
Her lips parted to deny his ridiculous claim, only to snap shut as a vague memory flashed through her mind—a nightmare in which she was being chased through a dark forest by an unseen enemy.
Muttering her opinion of arrogant Weres who should be neutered, she shoved her way out of his arms and headed toward her bathroom.
“I need a shower.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Do I look like Julia Child?” she demanded, pausing to send him a warning scowl. “Don’t even think about opening this door.”
He grinned, looking edible as he tucked his hands behind his head, the satin sheet falling down to reveal his wide chest and washboard abs.
“I could scrub your back.”
Fiercely refusing to allow the tempting image to form in her mind, Sophia slammed the door shut and turned the lock.
Not that she thought Luc would intrude into her privacy. He might be overbearing when it came to protecting her, but he would never force himself on an unwilling woman.
Why would he?
He no doubt had an entire harem waiting for him back in Miami.
Refusing to consider why that thought made her wolf snarl, Sophia yanked off her camisole and shorts before entering her shower and turning the cold water on full blast.
A half an hour later she was dressed in a tiny yellow bikini with a matching sarong that fell to her knees tied around her slender waist. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her expression was defiant.
She hadn’t chosen her favorite swimsuit to make Luc forget those females she was now convinced he must have left behind. That would be downright childish, she told herself as she made her way toward the delicious aroma of frying onions, garlic, peppers, and fresh tomatoes.
It was just that she always spent a few hours by the pool before heading to her club.
Of course, if it did make his jaw drop, then she wouldn’t complain.
Her cocky smile lasted until she stepped into the kitchen to catch sight of Luc standing beside the stove still dressed in nothing more than his silk boxers.
Instinctively her hand lifted to make sure no drool was dribbling down her chin.
Holy crap.
Most women would sell their souls to walk in and find this bronzed god fixing them breakfast.
Including her, she abruptly realized.
For a crazed moment she considered the pleasure of walking across the floor and wrapping her arms around his narrow waist to press herself against his back.
Then abruptly she recalled he wasn’t here because he’d been mesmerized by her charm. Or even because he thought she was hot.
He was here because her life was in danger. And while she didn’t doubt for a minute he would be more than happy to fulfill a few of her deepest fantasies, she would be a fool to think she would be anything but a convenient female body he was willing to use until it was time to move on.
She didn’t know why the thought should make her suddenly so grumpy, but she did know her fingers itched to toss a few of her Baccarat crystal glasses.
Instead she forced a casual smile to her lips as she crossed to the breakfast nook where the table was already set, complete with fresh roses from the garden.
“Making yourself at home?” she drawled, settling on a padded wicker chair.
Efficiently plating a mound of golden scrambled eggs that he covered with his chunky tomato sauce, he crossed to set it in the center of the table. Sophia breathed deeply, catching the spicy aroma of chilies and cumin and chopped oregano.
“You should be thanking me,” he murmured, taking a seat across the small table, his grin distinctly wicked. “I’ve had women begging on their knees for a taste of my huevos rancheros.”
That wasn’t the only thing they begged for, she silently acknowledged, piling her plate high with scrambled eggs before taking a sip of her freshly squeezed orange juice.
Heaven.
She glanced up to catch him watching her with an unreadable expression.
“Shouldn’t you be rigging up my alarm system or something?”
“We need to talk first.” He nodded toward her plate. “Eat.”
She rolled her eyes at his commanding tone. “Are you going to give me a treat if I roll over and play dead?”
His lips twitched. “What do you want from me?”
“Ask me, don’t order me.”
“Do I get credit for not throwing you over my shoulder and hauling you back to bed?” Heat blazed in his eyes as they skimmed down her nearly naked body. “That’s what my inner caveman is urging me to do. And my wolf agrees.”
So did her wolf.
It didn’t mind a bit of caveman.
Not when the end result was some raw, spectacular sex.
She shoveled the eggs into her mouth, barely taking time to savor the bold flavor as she cleaned her plate. Anything to distract her from the aching void between her legs that was becoming nearly unbearable.
Once finished, she pushed away her plate. It really had been delicious and she crankily wondered if there was anything that wasn’t perfect about this Were.
“What do you want to discuss?”
Having polished off his own plate, Luc settled back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.
“A party.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you to host a party.”
She slowly narrowed her gaze. “What kind of party?”
He gave a sudden laugh. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”
“Now you can read my mind?” she muttered, pretending the maddening image of Luc floating in her hot tub with a covey of water sprites pleasuring his naked body hadn’t just flared through her mind.
He leaned forward, his hand reaching to cover hers. “I told you I’m not into public displays. Especially not when it comes to sex,” he assured her in a voice filled with husky promise. “I like it mano y mano with lots of privacy and lots of time.” The dark eyes flashed with sinful amusement. “And occasionally handcuffs.”
“Handcuffs?” She pretended his light touch wasn’t sending molten need through her veins. “Do you need restraints to acquire your dates? Or to keep them from escaping?”
He lifted her fingers to his lips. “Someday very soon I’ll show you exactly what I do with them.”
With a low groan she snatched her hand away. In a minute she was going to be knocking aside the table and crawling over him like a sex-starved harpy.
“So why do you want me to host a party?”
He shrugged, the amusement lingering in his eyes. “It’s the most convenient way to gather all your neighbors at one time so I can question them.”
“You think they’ll confess to being a homicidal maniac over apple martinis?”
“It’s easier to read people when they’re in a group,” he explained. “If I do door-to-door interviews they’ll be on guard.”
“No shit,” she muttered, her gaze skimming over the heavy muscles of his chest.
Even dressed he would be the sort of unannounced visitor who would make her neighbors hide under their bed and call the cops.
His smile widened. “This way they’ll feel more comfortable.”
“And more likely to give something away?”
“That’s the hope.”
She had to admit it made sense, she acknowledged, rising to her feet.
As he said, her neighbors were more likely to let down their guard during the course of a party. Especially if she could score a bottle of nectar from Troy. A few drops in her guests’ drinks and their inhibitions would be lowered. Perhaps not to the point of revealing their most intimate secrets, but they would be more inclined to “share.”
“Fine.” She cleared her throat as he straightened, his muscles rippling in the afternoon sunlight that slanted through the glass wall. “I’ll send out the invitations.”
“You aren’t really going to serve apple martinis, are you?” he demanded, moving to stand way too close.
“How am I supposed to explain your presence?” she abruptly demanded.
“I’m your latest lover, of course.”
She snorted at his ready suggestion. “You could be my brother. Or the pool boy.”
His hand lifted to skim along her hairline, following the curve of her ear.
“I’m not nearly pretty enough to be the pool boy, and we don’t want to shock the natives if I happen to do this in front of them.”
A part of her knew a kiss was coming. She also knew she could halt it by taking a simple step backward. Instead she tilted back her head to meet his descending mouth, her lips parting in invitation to the deep, hungry kiss.
He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as their tongues tangled in a silent dance of mutual need.
An enthralling pleasure blasted through her, making her arch against his hardening cock as her hands ran a restless path over his powerful back.
He was so deliciously warm.
And male.
Starkly, unapologetically male.
The kiss deepened as she rubbed her aching breasts against his bare chest, her blood on fire with the need to feel him plunging deep inside her body.
As if sensing her desperate desire, his hands skimmed up the curve of her waist, cupping her breasts to tease her sensitive nipples with his thumbs.
She growled her approval, arching toward his insistent caresses as her hands slid beneath the satin boxers to cup the hard muscles of his perfect ass.
Laughing softly he nipped at her lower lip before whispering against her mouth.
“This isn’t at all brotherly.”
Busy thanking the gods that she wasn’t related to this intensely sexy Were, Sophia was taken off guard as a brick was tossed through the window over the sink.
They both stiffened in shock, but Luc swiftly recovered and was immediately out of her arms and sprinting toward the French doors leading onto the back patio.
Sophia felt a brief flare of fear at the realization he was unarmed as he charged after the trespasser only to grimace as the backlash of his power sizzled through the air. Even without shifting there were few demons who could match his strength.
And if he went wolf ...
Well, she pitied anyone stupid enough to stand in his path.
Of course, a silver bullet could bring down the mightiest Were, an anxious voice whispered in the back of her mind.
A voice she hastily squashed.
Luc could take care of himself. She refused to even consider the thought of him being hurt.
Clenching her hands, she turned her attention toward the shards of glass littered across her floor.
Dammit to hell.
What was it with people busting her windows lately?
They were not only a pain in the ass to replace, but they left a mess that she was in no mood to clean.
Picking her way over the glittering shards, Sophia reached to pluck the brick from the sink, not at all surprised to find a note scribbled on the back.
“Leave or die.”
Predictable. Tacky. And downright cliché.
Tossing the brick onto the countertop, she moved to retrieve a broom, sweeping up the broken glass and dumping it in the trash.
She’d just finished when Luc returned, his eyes glowing with the fury of his wolf.
“Anything?” she demanded, although she already knew the answer.
“No,” he growled, his frustration thickening the air until it was difficult to breathe. “Whoever threw the brick had already taken off, and there are too many scents to pick out a specific person.” His jaw knotted as he struggled to leash his emotions. “I do know it wasn’t a human.”
“How?”
He moved to pick up the brick, testing its weight as his gaze skimmed the words of warning.
“Unlike a demon, they would have to be standing in your yard to pitch this through the window. There’s no way they could have escaped before I could catch them.”
She nodded in agreement. “Then that narrows down the options.”
“Not far enough.”
Sensing his self-disgust, Sophia frowned. “What is it?”
“There’s something off,” he growled.
“Off?”
“If someone genuinely wants you dead they don’t warn you,” he muttered, throwing the brick into the trash.
He was right. She was trained well enough to know that the best assassin was the one who moved through the shadows and struck before their prey ever sensed the danger.
“The gunshot was genuine enough,” she pointed out, sharing his confusion.
“So was the bullet.”
“Yeah, the bastard ruined my desk.”
“I went back to dig it out.” His expression was grim. “It was silver.”
She shivered. “I suppose crazy doesn’t always make sense.”
He looked like he wanted to bite something.
Hard.
“What are your plans for the day?” he abruptly demanded.
She shrugged. “A few hours by the pool and then off to the club.”
“I’m calling a security firm to install your alarm system.” He prowled toward the door. “Don’t leave without me.”
Ignoring the crowd of drunken females who screeched in wild abandon at the male Were gyrating on the stage, Luc leaned against the carved oak bar and sipped his Cognac.
No one would blame him for being in a foul mood.
Not only was he no closer to discovering who was trying to harm Sophia, but he was so tormented by his raging lust he could barely think.
Mierda.
This was supposed to be a simple job.
Get in, fix the problem, and get out.
That’s what he did.
He fixed problems.
But from the instant he’d caught sight of Sophia, the job had gone from simple to simply insane.
Proving his point, his gaze skimmed over the mingling crowd, landing with unerring accuracy on the golden-haired female who was responsible for his current discomfort.
She looked exquisitely elegant in a silky ivory pantsuit.
The jacket was perfectly tailored to her slender frame, the plunging vee neckline revealing the lush curve of her breasts. The pants clung to her long legs before flaring above a pair of three-inch heels.
Her pale hair was pulled into a smooth knot at the back of her head, the style perfectly designed to rouse his wolf into a near frenzy as he pictured his lips and teeth nuzzling down the length of her neck.
Wondering what she would do if he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for her office, Luc’s pleasant imaginings were interrupted as he watched a red-haired imp move to stand beside Sophia.
The tall fey looked a bit like Troy, but his hair was cut short and his far more bulky frame was covered by a black Armani suit instead of spandex. A smile touched his handsome face as he bent down to whisper something in Sophia’s ear.
A growl trickled from Luc’s throat as his fingers clutched the glass he was holding until it shattered.
Ignoring the Cognac that spilled over his hand, Luc prowled forward, his gaze locked on the fey who appeared unaware he was toying with death.
The crowd parted before him, the females giving tiny gasps of nervous excitement as they avidly watched him cross the room. He was indifferent to the stir of interest caused by his tight T-shirt and black slacks and the fluid grace of his movements.
He had only one thought in his mind.
Halting directly behind Sophia, he reached around her just as the fey was intending to take her hand. He grabbed the fool’s wrist, barely repressing his urge to crush the bones beneath his fingers.
“Touch her and I’ll make certain you never use that hand again,” he warned, his voice thick with his wolf.
“Shit.” Pale green eyes widened as the imp regarded him with a startled alarm. “Who the hell are you?”
“Luc.”
“You work here?”
Releasing his grip on the imp, Luc wrapped his arm possessively around Sophia’s waist, his chin resting on the top of her head.
“My only job is pleasing Sophia.”
Holding herself rigid, Sophia covered his hand with hers, covertly allowing her claws to dig into his flesh.
A tiny warning that she wasn’t pleased by his public claim.
“We’ll finish our discussion tomorrow, Andrew,” she smoothly promised the wary imp. “My office?”
“Four o’clock,” the fey murmured, cautiously waiting for Luc’s tiny nod of agreement before backing away and disappearing into the crowd.
Smart imp.
He obviously had enough sense not to piss off a Were. Especially not one in heat.
Of course, a female Were was equally perilous.
Tugging out of his grasp, Sophia turned to stab him with a furious glare.
“Are you demented?” she hissed.
“Odd.” His lips twisted. “That question has been running through my mind with growing frequency.” He nodded toward the fleeing imp. “Who was that?”
“My liquor distributor, who was giving me a very sweet deal until you came stomping over here like Conan the Barbarian,” she rasped. “What were you doing?”
Ah, now that was a loaded question.
For the past centuries Weres hadn’t been jealous creatures. The overriding need to produce children had destroyed the instinct to find that one special companion.
Was it any wonder he was as baffled as Sophia by his urgent desire to make certain that every male in Chicago understood this woman was his property?
“Have you considered the fact that you opened this club at the same time you moved into your new house?” he hastily improvised.
“So?”
He waved a hand toward the stage where yet another overly pretty Were was stripping off his clothes.
“So your mysterious stalker might be someone you met here.”
Her lips tightened, but it was obvious that she was considering his words.
“And how does pounding your chest and publicly branding me as your latest bimbo help?”
His brows lifted. “Bimbo?”
“Don’t push me.”
He shrugged. “Now everyone knows they have to go through me to get to you.”
“Great.” She didn’t appear particularly pleased by his logic. “What if they decide to lie low until you leave? Then I’m back to where I started.”
“But I’m not leaving,” he assured her, moving forward to trace the line of her stubborn jaw. “Not until I’m absolutely certain you’re safe.”
Perhaps sensing that nothing short of death was going to pry him from her side, she heaved a sigh, her gaze shifting to the horde of females who were studying him with a rapt attention that was intended to be reserved for the entertainment.
“So much for blending in,” she gave in with a sour frown.
He smiled, his finger lowering to follow the plunging neckline of her silk jacket.
“You were right to begin with,” he murmured, his voice thickening as she gave a small shiver of pleasure. “I don’t blend.”