[English] BEAUTY DATES THE BEAST

Beauty Dates the Beast
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Garth looked surprised at my question and took another drink of his wine, his tongue flicking at the edge of the glass. Yep, definitely forked. I suppressed a shudder.

“Indeed. A virgin is highly desired,” he said. “You have been claimed as worthy of notice, you are disease-free, and you are considered a fair mate for any member of the Alliance.”

I was glad I wasn’t eating—if I had been, I was pretty sure I would have thrown up. “A mate?” I said. “How nice.” Lucky me. I picked up my glass of wine and swirled it around, hoping I looked like I knew what I was doing. I had no idea why people sloshed their wine around in their glass.

Garth leaned forward. “Is your heart claimed by another?” His whatever-it-was slithered against my shoe again.

Ugh. If Giselle thought she could blackmail me into marrying one of her clients—after she’d squeezed them for every dollar she could, of course—she was sorely mistaken. I was not about to mate this guy. In fact, I was starting to dread the rest of the dates that she had lined up for me, except for Beau. Garth was staring at my neck again, as if he’d like to cover Beau’s mark with one of his own. My hand slid to my collarbone and I hid the mark. “Oh, my, look at the time,” I said, feigning surprise. As if I’d been so charmed by our date that I’d completely lost track of the hour. I put my napkin down on the table. “I really should be going soon.”

He reached for my hand, an ardent look on his face. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he declared, his moist palms gripping my hand between them. “You’re beautiful and sophisticated and … virginal.”

Obviously Garth didn’t get out much if he thought I was sophisticated. And it was a little creepy that he kept tossing in the “virginal” thing. I tried to extract my hand from his. “How sweet of you.”

“We need to go out again,” he said, refusing to let me do said extraction. “I could be falling in love.” His eyes flicked again to the wonder spot on my neck that everyone seemed able to see but me.

Would he be half so smitten if I hadn’t already been staked out as private property? I doubted it. “Excuse me, I need to go powder my nose.”

He lifted my trapped hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his tongue flicking against my skin. I barely managed to hide the shudder that rocked through me. “Bathroom,” I yelped and jerked my hand away hard, then grabbed my purse and raced to the ladies’ room. There was an attendant in there, and I offered her a twenty. “Can you tell me if there’s a back way out of here?”

She gave me a knowing look. “That your date out there in the bolo tie and the yellow vest?”

“None other. You’ve got to help me,” I said and leaned in. “I think he’s wearing spurs.”

She shuddered. “There’s a door through the kitchen. I’ll take you back there.”

Chapter Six

After penning a note on a napkin, I asked the attendant to give it to my date. It was a brief explanation, one that I hoped seemed innocent and coy (to please Giselle’s sensibilities). I cited “female troubles” and apologized for leaving him so abruptly. I had a hunch that girly issues wouldn’t scare him off, though. There was a reason men like him were single, after all. It was because they were clueless.

All coherent thoughts fled from my mind as soon as I entered the office and saw Beau standing there in a casual gray jacket, hands tucked into his pockets. He turned and gave me that slow sensual smile, and my brain nearly fried at the sight of him.

Gorgeous. I’d never get tired of looking at the man.

His smile dimmed as I approached and his nostrils flared. “Perfume?” Then his eyes scanned my hair. “You look … nice.”

There was a ringing endorsement for a girl. Here I was with my hair and makeup done professionally, and he was looking at me as if I’d been an alien. I simply smiled and shifted on my painful but cute heels. “It’s good to see you again,” I said, then immediately felt like an idiot. It had only been half a day since I’d last seen him.

“Shall we go?” He gave me another polite smile, but it didn’t have that ***y curve that I remembered. Was something wrong? He treated me as if I’d been a stranger. I might have been okay with it once, but after daydreaming of cuddling up next to him in bed again (breathless, hot daydreams that made my legs weak), it bothered me to see him look at me like that.

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He glanced over at me. “Are you hungry? We can go for drinks if you’d rather.”

But he’d gone to the trouble of making a reservation, and I didn’t want to give him any more opportunity to be irritated at me. So I gave him a bright smile in return. “Dinner is fine. I love Italian.” Too bad I’d just eaten it. Twice.

What followed was easily the most awkward date I’d ever had—which was saying something. I tried to eat like I was enjoying myself, but my stomach was already full from the previous meal and what was in my stomach was churning.

Beau was silent as he methodically ate. He had good manners, at least. Used a knife, made use of his napkin, and was polite to the waiter. It was me he ignored.

I ate a few more bites, then I couldn’t stand it any longer—the food or the silence. “What is it?”

A flare of emotion crossed his face and was just as quickly hidden. He put down his fork. “It depends. Do you not want to be here with me?”

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“I’m just tired,” I admitted. “I had a long day at work.” The previous two dates had definitely felt like work. I’d had to smile and be friendly and act interested, to be “on” the entire time. I picked up my wineglass. “How was your day?”

“It was hell.”

I choked on my chardonnay. “I’m … sorry. Is something wrong?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Everything. Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just … let’s not do this tonight, all right?” Beau folded his napkin and placed it on the table.

“Oh,” I said, feeling stupid at the hurt that bubbled up inside. “Of course.”

So much for having the grand problem of whether I should date him. It didn’t seem to be a problem after all. I should have been thrilled, relieved. Something good. But all I felt was really, really disappointed.

“Let’s get out of here,” Beau said, dumping a wad of cash on the table as he stood. He moved to pull out my chair and I could feel the frustrated emotion vibrating off of him.

What was wrong with him tonight?

Relief and sadness warred on the walk back to the office. A tiny part of me was glad that I wouldn’t have to go through another exhausting date, one less problem on my plate full of troubles. But not seeing Beau again bothered me more than I cared to admit. We’d clicked on some deeper level, and I realized suddenly that I wanted to see more of him. Maybe we could have drinks at a smoky bar to cover Sara’s scent. Something.

He needed a woman before Saturday, and if we called things off that meant he’d have to find someone else—because the heat wouldn’t take no for an answer.

We reached the dark strip mall that housed Midnight Liasons, and Beau stopped in front of the door. I knew that if he walked away now, he would walk out of my life. And this was feeling like a good-bye.

He gave me a faint smile, his eyes gleaming catlike in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, Bathsheba.”

I reached out and grabbed his lapel, stopping him before he could turn away.

He looked at me in surprise. “What is it?”

“I wanted to give you this,” I said in a breathless rush, and kissed him.

Beau’s mouth was unyielding for a split second, but then his arms went around my back, crushing me against him as his lips parted under my own, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. I had started the kiss, but it was obvious that Beau was used to being the aggressor.

And oooh, just the feeling of his tongue sweeping against mine made my toes curl in my shoes. Warmth pulsed through my body, matching the strokes of his tongue against my own, and my fingers curled deeper in his lapel as if I could pull his body closer to mine.

The kiss was dark and possessive; with each stroke of his tongue, I felt like he was claiming me for his own … and I very much wanted to be claimed. His hand twined in my hair and—

It felt like every strand was being ripped out of the back of my head. I pulled away with a screech, my hands flying to the knotted mess of sprayed curls that he’d tried to remove with his fingers. “Ow! What are you doing?”

“I was trying to touch your hair,” he said. “What the hell did you do to it? It’s all glued together. Your hair is gorgeous when it’s not done up like a poodle.”

A what? “Oh no, you did not just call me a poodle.”

He tugged on a crunchy lock. “I’m sorry, Bathsheba,” he said, the husky way he said my name like a caress. “Last night your hair was lovely. Tonight it looks like a nest and smells even worse. It’s as if you conspired with Giselle on how to make yourself unappealing.”

“Jeez. That’s the last time I try to kiss you.” Hurt, I took a step backward. He was right that I didn’t look like myself—I suspected that was part of Giselle’s master plan—but it stung to hear him say that.

His arm snaked around my waist again and he pulled me close, so close that our mouths were practically touching again. In my high heels, I was eye level to him and our gazes met. He grinned. “No, it’s not.”

I liked the way his arm lingered at my waist, his hand resting at the dip of my lower back. For a wild moment, I wished he’d rest it a bit lower.

Some virgin I was.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said in a low voice, and my gaze flicked to his sensual mouth, inches away from mine. “Today was … not good.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered. “What’s bothering you?”

Beau seemed to struggle for a moment, then he gave in. “It’s shifter politics. I’m not sure that you’re interested.”

I gave his lapel a little shake. “I’m interested in everything about you,” I told him, and realized it was true.

Well, ****. That was going to make things tricky.

I was rewarded with the faint curve of his ***y mouth in a half-smile, but it quickly disappeared. “It’s Savannah, the were-cougar who’s going into heat. She’s in danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

Again, the hesitation. Then he leaned forward and put his forehead against my own, our noses bumping.

“The wolves have her. They’ve kidnapped her and are going to hold her hostage until I produce another female werewolf. They’re convinced I’m hiding one from them.”

Chapter Seven

All the air left my lungs. I stared at him.

“Female …” I choked around the word. “Werewolf?”

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“They’re insane,” he agreed, looking stressed. He ran a hand down his face and seemed suddenly very tired. “As if we’d hide a female werewolf from them.”

Oh, God, this just got worse and worse. I forced a sympathetic look to my face, though I wanted to scream in terror. “Can you talk about it?”

Please, please talk about it. Tell me everything you know.

Beau gestured at the park bench on the far side of the sidewalk, across from the parking lot. On sunny days, Sara and I ate lunch and chatted there. Tonight, I stared at that bench as if it had been my enemy.

As I sank down on one end of it, Beau sat on the other side of me. His hand reached for mine and I let him take it, too numb to do anything but stare blankly at him. He seemed to need to touch me, his fingers playing with mine, stroking along the inside of my palm.

“The wolves have more females than the Alliance does,” he said. “It’s one reason why the wolves rarely using the dating service, I imagine. Between the pack hierarchy rules and the fact that they have more females than the other shifter clans, there isn’t as much of a need. But what they don’t tolerate is a runaway.”

I swallowed hard. “Are … are they looking for a runaway?”

“If they are, I don’t know of any.” His fingers played with mine, his gaze not meeting my eyes. “The wolf packs don’t like it when someone leaves the pack. They expect the pack to rule everyone’s lives—even the ones who don’t want to be ruled. They’re judge, jury, and executioner. And since I haven’t helped them in their search, they now think we’re harboring a fugitive female.” His mouth grew hard. “They took Savannah yesterday. Left a note with her abandoned car and said that if we didn’t have the other female back to them by this time next week, they were going to kill her.”

And Savannah was going to go into heat on Saturday. This just got better and better.

“What are you going to do?” I asked softly.

Beau’s mouth gave a wry twist. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m not keen on the thought of handing over some young girl to the wolves, especially since I know what they’re like.”

I knew what they were like, too. My hand trembled in his.

He mistook it for cold and pulled me against him, tucking me under his arm. “But I don’t know what to do about Savannah, either. Ramsey’s out looking for her trail, but it’s cold by now. So we’re waiting … and we’ll see what happens.”

I pulled away from him. “Beau,” I began. It was time to break it off, as much as I liked him and wanted to kiss him again. “I don’t think this is a good time for us to see each other—”

His eyes gleamed in the darkness, his face showing a flash of haggard emotion. “Bathsheba, don’t say that. I need you. Please.”

I could tell he wasn’t used to asking for things, and I hesitated—then stood up. “I’m sorry, Beau. But I can’t.”

Sara was busy with a project, her headphones on, when I went inside. She looked up as I passed. “Hi. How were your dates?”

I waved her off, not wanting to talk about it, especially in front of the others. Marie and Ryder sat at their desks, chatting and waiting for the phones to ring. They glanced over at me but didn’t approach, as if sensing I needed space. Giselle wasn’t in, at least.

That was good. I didn’t want to see her gloating face right now. I needed to process.

I sat down and stared at my computer. My inbox was overflowing, my voice-mail light was flashing, and my monitor was littered with sticky notes … but it could all wait until tomorrow.

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I didn’t know what to do.

The wolf pack was looking for Sara. Beau’s clanswoman had been kidnapped and was being held for ransom. I’d just broken up with a smart, funny, gorgeous man who I liked far more than I had any business liking. And my boss was going to make me date a naga.

If ever there was a time to run, now was the time.

I grabbed my shawl and took off my shoes. “Sara, let’s go home.” We could have a nice, calm conversation. I would explain to her what Beau had just told me, then we could pack our things and quietly leave town and never, ever come back. We’d start over again. Someplace where there was no wolf pack, if such a place existed.

Maybe Greenland. They needed office managers in Greenland, didn’t they?

Then I thought of Beau, and my shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t.

Sara pulled off her headphones. “You bet. I’m done anyhow.” Her wariness was apparent; she scented my fear.

“Great,” I said, forcing a lighter note to my voice. “I want to check out the house. Ten bucks says that Mike went through my panty drawer.”

She laughed, some of the tension easing from her shoulders, and I felt a little less tense at her returning smile.

Since the car was still at the house, Ryder gave us a lift. As we drove home, my thoughts were torn.

Sara was in danger.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Beau.

Sara and I needed to run … but I really wanted to call Beau and explain. But what if he told the wolves that Sara was the one they were looking for?

Exhausted from the mental ping-pong, I gave Ryder a halfhearted wave good-bye as I slid out of her car and headed to the porch. The lights to the house were off, and I dug around in my purse for the extra house key. My hands were shaking so badly that my purse tipped the wrong way and the contents slid across the porch, scattering in every direction.

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I swore a blue streak.

“You’re edgy tonight. Date must not have gone well,” Sara said and brushed past me to shove her key in the lock. “Let me open the door.”

I started picking up the spill of junk and throwing it back in my purse. “Sorry,” I said. “My head is just not functioning tonight.”

“I know how you feel,” she said, twisting the key in the lock. Sara grabbed the doorknob and shoved against the door, only to bounce backward in surprise. “That’s weird.”

I scooped up the last of my junk and zipped my purse. “What’s weird?”

Her delicate brown brows furrowed together as she stared at the door, then back at me. “I think … I think I just locked it.” She turned the key again and the deadbolt clicked. “Wow, that’s really weird.”

Unease swept over me. I touched her arm before she could step inside. “Do you smell anything?”

She grimaced. “Just my perfume. We had a were-lynx in tonight and I dosed up just before you got there.”

I dug out my cell phone, clutching it tight. As I stared at my sister, the thought kept echoing in my mind that the wolves were looking for a runaway. “I’m going inside,” I said in a whisper. “You stay out here!”

“No way!” She shook her head. “What do you think it is?”

I couldn’t tell her yet, so I pushed the door open, putting a finger to my lips to shush her. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to step inside our small foyer. The interior was completely dark, filling me with fear. We always left a light on. Either Mike had turned the light off, or someone else had. “Wait here,” I whispered, knowing she probably wouldn’t.

Moving down the hall, I fumbled for the light switch. The hall light flicked on and I squinted, noticing that Sara had followed me in. Her nose worked as she scented the air.

I stared around the hallway, then took a few steps in. I could feel something was off, and unease spread through me.

“I smell … something,” Sara whispered.

“What is it?” My blood went cold.

“Almost like the garbage turned … like last night.”

Forcing myself to step forward, I headed for the kitchen. We had a baseball bat in the pantry for safety against intruders.

Upstairs, something shuffled and the floorboards groaned.

“What’s that?” Sara asked, though we both could guess.

I turned and shoved her toward the front door. “Go. Run.”

She shook her head at me. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

Damn it! My fingers gripped her arm and I dragged her toward the kitchen. “Come on,” I hissed.

The boards overhead creaked again, and whatever it was upstairs was heading in my direction. Our direction. In a few moments, it would turn the corner and come down the stairs.

Sara’s light frame made it easy for me to drag her along beside me.

“What are you doing—”

“Shhh!” I opened the pantry and shoved her in. “Don’t come out until I say it’s safe.”

“But—” Her eyes were wide, frightened.

“Just stay. Good dog!” I told her and shut the door.

The ceiling creaked overhead, loud, and I heard a heavy foot land on the top of the steps, then another.

I bolted around the small island and scrambled for the cutlery. Our big carving knife stuck out of the wooden knife-block, and I grabbed it, twisting the handle in my hands nervously.

The heavy feet continued to slowly stomp down the stairs, and I heard the scratch of claws as they landed on the hardwood floor at the base of the stairwell.

It wasn’t human.

The urge to scream in fear was overwhelming, and I forced myself to concentrate. If it wasn’t human, it was probably fast. That meant I had to be ready.

A thick, rancid smell filled the air, and the knife suddenly didn’t feel like enough. Whatever it was, it smelled … horrible. Like three-day-old, rotting-in-the-sun roadkill. And through it all, that horrible, slick clicking of claws.

A low growl sounded through the house.

I crossed the room. I wouldn’t be able to outrun or outmuscle it, but I could at least lead it away from Sara.

Emerging from the kitchen, I saw a dark shape turn to face me from the other end of the hallway.

It wasn’t a wolf, which surprised me. It was like no shapeshifter I’d ever seen before. It was some sort of cat … thing. Thick, bulging muscles distorted its body under the taut, dirty fur. The teeth were distended in a contorted snarl, and the eyes were red. At the shoulder it was twice as high as any normal lion, nearly to my chin.

****, I was going to need a bigger knife.

As the creature started toward me, I backed into the kitchen and slammed the door shut. It crashed into the door, which shook on its hinges. Gasping for breath, I darted to the island and yanked out my emergency drawer.

I pulled out a sharpened wooden stake and tossed it aside. Not a vampire. A cross, holy water, a mirror—all no good …

The doorframe rattled again, and I heard the sound of the wood splintering.

Hurry, hurry! My fingers closed around the plastic baggy where I kept the wolfsbane—it was empty. ****. I frantically reached to the back of the drawer … and found it: colloidal silver—liquid silver mixed with water. The perfect anti-shape-shifter potion.

The beast on the other side of the door snarled, then the entire doorframe shattered. The red eyes stared at me, and the creature opened its long-fanged mouth and let loose an unearthly scream.

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I slammed the top of the long bottle against the counter and the neck shattered. The creature took two steps toward me, and I flung the contents of the bottle on it.

A thick splash struck the creature across the face. It screamed in pain, skidding to a halt and writhing on the floor. One of the big, clawed paws tore at its face, and the yellow teeth bared in a hideous grimace. Then the undulating muscles rippled, and when the creature stood to face me again, my mouth went dry. Maybe colloidal silver didn’t stop this creature? …

It roared and burst out of the kitchen.

I grabbed my knife and followed it, skidding on the wet, dirty floor. A shard of glass bit into my foot, but I didn’t stop.

Glass crashed and the creature burst through the window in the living room, giving one more eerie, catlike scream as it disappeared into the night.

My breath escaped me in a whoosh.

Another window broke, this one in the foyer. My hand tightened on my knife again and I raised the blade, my eyes wild as another cat shifter burst into the living room. I threw the weapon at the creature. It dodged at the last moment, and my knife skidded across the carpet.

I took a panicked step backward, my eyes on the newcomer. Adrenaline blacked my vision, spots swimming at the edges of my sight. As I took another step backward something clicked, and I realized that the creature in front of me was a cougar, rapidly shifting back to human form. One of the Russells, maybe? Still watching over our house?

The cavalry had arrived. All the adrenaline rushed out of my body. Safe.

“Bathsheba!” Sara cried. I turned to her, scanning her to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were glittering, her face wrinkling in the telltale sign that it was about to sprout a muzzle, and her arms were covered in thick, dark gray hair. Her feet were perilously close to the silver water, which would incapacitate her. “Sara! Get back! Don’t let them see you.”

“Forget about me,” she argued back, her words turning into a snarl as her teeth elongated and sharpened into canines. “Just don’t kill Beau!”

Beau? That threw even more panic into me, and I shoved Sara back into the pantry, ignoring her wolflike yelp. “Don’t come out until I’ve cleaned all this up,” I hissed, then bolted for the living room. I slipped on the wet silver spilled all over the kitchen and grasped the broken doorframe to keep my balance, then pushed into the foyer.

“Damn it, Bathsheba,” Beau snarled, eyes narrow as he looked me over. “Who were you going to stab with that knife?”

He was naked. Really naked. His wide shoulders were every bit as mouthwatering as I remembered, muscles clearly defining his lean frame. He had a fine six-pack and the most amazing hard ridge of flesh along his hip bones… .

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“I ran out of silver,” I said blankly, still staring at his chest. It was remarkably perfect, without a hint of softness.

“Silver?”

“I … oh, yes,” I said, shaking myself free of the mesmerizing hold his abs had on me. “Don’t go in the kitchen. There’s silver water everywhere.”

He grabbed my wrist. To my surprise, he pushed me back against the wall, his hands grabbing my shoulders and running over my body in a fast check. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Answer me.”

Bewildered, I stared at him and tried to shove his hands away. “I’m fine—”

A low growl escaped his throat and he kissed me.

It was like being swallowed into the eye of a storm. All rational thought went out the window. His lips crushed mine, frantic and possessive. His tongue stroked against the seam of my mouth, demanding entrance and demanding my submission. It was glorious. I wanted more. I opened my mouth, my tongue seeking his. They touched briefly, then tangled. His tongue stroked along mine, lighting a series of flickering sensations along the rest of my body. Gasping noises emerged from my throat, followed by a possessive growl of his own. I needed this—oh, I needed this. His tongue was conquering, thrusting, dominating. God, his mouth tasted so sweet and …

I broke away from the kiss. Had I totally lost my head? Sara was here and turning into a wolf, and Beau was going to scent her at any moment. I grasped at his arms, torn between the urge to leap into them again and the urge to fling him away from me. “Beau, how … what are you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re safe,” he said, releasing my shoulders. Then he jerked me close to him again, his hands roaming over my body in a motion that I wasn’t sure was protective or possessive—but I liked it. His gaze met mine as he brushed his fingers against my cheek. “It’s a damn good thing, too. What were you thinking, confronting that creature?”

“What was I supposed to do?” I frowned at him.

“You and Sara should have run—”

I shook my head. “It would have chased us. This way I kept her safe.”

“While risking your own—”

I shoved at his shoulders, baring my teeth in fear and anger. “My sister, my responsibility. Not yours.”

“You could have been hurt,” he said in a softer voice. His eyes were smoky with desire, his body moving closer to my own. The look on his face could have melted butter. The press of his body against me told me Beau was really turned on by my protectiveness.

Flustered, I tried to change the subject. “Whatever that thing was, it smelled putrid. Like it was dead.”

“It was a shifter of some sort,” Beau murmured, stroking my crunchy hair. “But not like any I’ve ever seen.”

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“What do you mean?”

He was silent. What, was he afraid to divulge top-secret shifter stuff? Like I gave a crap. I punched his arm. “Tell me.”

“Ow. Careful. You have silver on your hands.” He pulled his shoulder away slightly, but his hands didn’t leave my body.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling my hands away.

“You can keep them on me,” he said against my mouth, and then grinned. “Just keep them above the waist.”

Distracted at the thought, I tried to concentrate. “The shifter … what was it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, then released me. “I need to make a few calls.”

Just like that? I swallowed my disappointment when he went into my living room and picked up the landline. My life had no room for a ***y, protective were-cougar, as much as I might have wanted otherwise.

When he greeted the person on the other end of the line, I tiptoed through the silver water toward the pantry, where I’d last left Sara. It was silent.

I opened the door, caught a hint of tail and shredded clothing. “Stay in there,” I whispered to her. “I’ll clean up the water and get rid of Beau.”

She gave a small whine of response as I closed the door. I mopped up the water and poured it down the sink, then disposed of the broken glass that littered the room. Once that was done, I left the kitchen to pull Beau away from Sara’s hiding spot while she was vulnerable.

He stood in the middle of the hallway, still buck naked, and oh boy, his ass was nice. I’d already seen it once, but it was equally mesmerizing on the second viewing. I admired his body as he talked on my phone, mentally caressing the breadth of his shoulders and the slim V of his hips as he talked. Just a hint of hair dusting his chest, and none on his back. That was nice. His bu**ocks were fascinating. Small, firm, and taut. I badly wanted to feel the smoothness of that muscled backside and clasped my hands, not trusting them to not reach for that wonderful bronzed flesh.

He finished the call and began another. “Ramsey? It’s me. I need you to come meet me.”

As Beau gave Ramsey my address, I realized what had been bothering me about his appearance and rescue. He’d sure gotten here fast. I glanced back in the kitchen, thinking of Sara and frowning. Something wasn’t adding up.

On a hunch, I tiptoed toward the broken window and peeked outside. No sign of the Viper in my driveway, but his clothes were strewn across my front yard. Wherever he’d come from, he’d walked. And considering how fast he’d gotten here, he must have been very close nearby.

I turned away from the window, managing to stay remarkably calm. “How did you get to my house so fast?”

He put the phone back into the cradle. His gray eyes bored into mine, challenging. “I was outside.”

“Why were you outside? I broke up with you.”

“And I came here to talk to you about that,” Beau said. “Because I know the timing is all wrong, and I don’t care. I wanted to see you again, so I decided to come talk to you, and then I smelled that thing. The same thing that I smelled in the cab, Bathsheba. I didn’t tell you then, because I didn’t want to worry you, but something unnatural is stalking you. Something that’s stronger than any supe I’ve run across and that likes the taste of blood.”

“I see,” I said in a soft voice, trembling. “You saved us. Thank you.”

“You looked like you were handling things just fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which really emphasized his nakedness. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“If I knew what it was, don’t you think I’d have taken care of it? Something is hunting you. Or Sara. Maybe both of you.”

I gave a tremulous laugh. “Maybe we should be asking if you have enemies.”

His expression remained grave, which made me shiver. The werewolves had Savannah because they wanted Sara. Maybe they wanted me as well? I knew that they couldn’t turn me into a wolf, but they didn’t know that.

A warm arm wrapped around my shoulder. I suddenly found my nose smooshed against Beau’s chest and he pulled me tight against him. “Come sit on the couch,” he said in a low, hypnotic voice. “I’ll go get Sara.”

My arms clamped around his waist and I pulled him against me. “She’s fine. She just needs a little time to recover and won’t appreciate us bothering her.” At his skeptical look, I laid my head on his shoulder. “Stay with me. Please.”

I was not above emotional manipulation to keep him away from my very wolfy sister.

“Don’t worry,” he said, keeping me pressed to his side as he steered us toward the couch. “Everything is going to be fine. Whatever it was is gone. I’ve called my clan in and they’re going to come help us.”

Us. Not “you.” As if we were joined at the hip already. It wouldn’t hurt to let him think we could still be together, and I huddled next to his naked body on the couch. My mind kept running through the events over and over, the growls, the horrible smell, fear for Sara, who must have been terrified, yet I couldn’t get to her as long as Beau was here and she was still a wolf… .

We sat on the couch for a long while. Beau stroked my hair and whispered small things to me, and I … liked it. There was something soothing about letting someone hold me and pet me as I fretted. Though I couldn’t tell Beau my problems, he knew I was upset and sought to make it better.

Beauty Dates the Beast
Page 42



That was a new concept. Usually I was so busy holding the pieces together for Sara and me that I never got a chance to relax or let someone else shoulder the burden, even for a second.

It was an intoxicating feeling. It made me want things that I couldn’t have. I must have trembled again, for Beau pressed his lips to my tangled hair, hugging me closer. “I’m here, Bathsheba. You’re safe. I’ll take care of things.”

Strangely enough, that made me feel better. He couldn’t possibly help me, but knowing that he was willing to try somehow made all the difference in the world.

A few men soon showed up and let themselves into the house. I jerked upright at the sight of them, but Beau wasn’t tense next to me, so he knew them. After getting a good look at the strangers, I understood. They all looked much like Beau—tall, lean, dark-haired, and built. Same light-colored eyes, same bone structure. Obviously more members of the Russell clan.

Standing before them naked, Beau didn’t look the slightest bit awkward as they all began to talk as if I hadn’t been there.

“Humans, Beau?” One of the strangers gave me an incredulous look. Another sniffed his surroundings, nostrils flaring, as if this all disagreed with him.

“Miss Ward is my girlfriend.”

No, she’s not. She can’t be. Not if she’s smart.

Another spoke up. “Are you serious?”

The entire house grew deathly quiet, as if a massive insult had just been spoken. One of the men jabbed the other in the shoulder. “Boss,” he began, and I could practically smell the apology forthcoming.

Jeez. Supes really didn’t care for humans.

But Beau only gave them a lazy grin that made my heart stutter. “Serious,” was all he said, and pulled me behind him in a possessive gesture. “Now, where’s Ramsey?”