The Dark-Hunters, page 251
Nicolette held her temper as Wren left her and headed up the stairs.
“It wasn’t his fault, Maman,” Aimee said. “I told him she could come—”
Nicolette backhanded her. “You ever threaten the safety of this house again, and I will see you cast out. Do you understand me?”
Aimee nodded.
“Papa?” Nicolette shouted for her mate.
He came in from the door that led to the kitchen. “Oui?”
“Summon the council. I think it’s time we see about putting the tiger out of our misery.”
Chapter 5
Wren was standing in the small bathroom outside of his bedroom, cursing as Marvin threw water at him.
“Stop it, Marvin,” he snapped at the playful monkey, who was now making faces at him. “You know I hate it whenever water gets in my eyes.”
He couldn’t stand to be blinded. None of his species could, which was strange when one considered the fact that they did like to play in water.
They just hated any and all weaknesses. A weak tiger was a dead one.
His father was dead proof of that.
The door, which Wren had left slightly ajar, opened to show him Aimee in the hallway. “What are you two doing?”
Wren pulled the comb from his hair. He looked about for someplace to retreat to, but the only way out was through the bearswan. He hated that she had caught him. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing.
Aimee entered the room and closed the door behind her. Cocking her head to one side, she studied him with a gimlet stare that made him extremely uneasy.
Marvin jumped up and down on the sink, chattering.
“You’re trying to unmat your hair, aren’t you?”
Wren didn’t say anything as he set the comb down beside Marvin. It was none of her business.
“It’s because of that human female, isn’t it?”
He tried to move past Aimee, only to have her block his way.
“It’s okay, Wren,” Aimee said gently. “I won’t tell anyone about her. Believe me, I understand all about impossible relationships.”
Yeah, he’d caught her with the wolf Fang a week ago. The two of them had been about to kiss. If anyone other than Wren had discovered her with Fang, Fang would have been killed or at the very least seriously mangled. But luckily for them, Wren couldn’t care less who Aimee took to her bed. It was none of his business anyway.
She picked up the comb from the counter. “You want me to help?”
Part of him wanted to growl at her and send her scurrying away, but the other realized that help would be kind of nice. “You can try,” he muttered. “But I think it’s hopeless.”
He’d been trying for over an hour to comb through the mess of his hair, and so far he’d only met with failure and pain.
And all because he wanted …
He wanted the impossible. For one moment in time, he wanted to feel a woman’s hands in his hair, and it wasn’t Aimee he ached to feel there.
He wanted Maggie.
Aimee’s face softened as she tried to get the comb through a small matted lock. After a few minutes of trying that only resulted in her breaking the comb in half, she let out a frustrated sigh.
“All right, Wren, what we need is a specialist. Let me call Margie in here to help. She’s the best at getting matted hair untangled. If anyone can do this, she can.”
As Aimee started out the door, Wren stopped her. “Why are you being so nice to me?” None of the other bears had ever been really nice to him. Most of them barely tolerated him.
But Aimee had always been kind.
She offered him a smile. “I like you, cub. I always have. I know you’re not dangerous.… I mean, I know that you could kill us, that you are dangerous, but that you don’t pose an unfounded danger to anyone other than yourself.”
“But you still fear me.”
Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “No. I fear for you, Wren. There’s a big difference.”
He frowned in confusion at her words.
She let out a tired breath. “You don’t like anyone around you, cub. I know you do inappropriate things just to make people leave you alone, and I fear what you will do one day that could cause the others here to turn on you permanently.”
She glanced to Marvin, who was watching her as if he understood and agreed. “I know the ferocity of your people. I know Bill sent you here to keep your father’s clan from killing you before you could defend yourself. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt. Everyone deserves some happiness in their life. Even tigards.”
Those words touched him deeply. No wonder the wolf was so attracted to her. For a bear, she had a good heart. “Thanks, Aimee.”
She nodded, then left. Marvin started chattering at Wren as he tried to detangle his hair again. The monkey didn’t understand why Wren was trying to change himself. It didn’t make sense to Marvin.
“I know,” Wren said to the monkey. “But I want her to be able to touch me without it grossing her out. One day you’ll find a Marvina of your own and you’ll understand.”
* * *
“Oh my God, Margeaux! You have got to see what’s outside in the hallway!”
Marguerite looked up from where she was packing her books into her backpack to frown at Whitney, whose next class was three doors down. “What?”
“He is the cutest guy on the planet. I swear, I’ve never seen anyone hotter. He must be gay. No straight man ever looks this yummy.”
“Oh, doesn’t that just piss you off?” Tammy asked from the next seat. “You should try being an art major. All I ever saw as an undergraduate was men looking for other men. It’s why I’m in law school now. I need a profession where I might actually run across a dude wanting a female.”
Whitney gave Tammy a droll stare for the mere fact that she had spoken without invitation. Marguerite, on the other hand, adored the Goth student, who always had the most interesting stories on Monday morning.
Marguerite smiled at her. “Okay, Tammy, since you’re the resident expert on men, go scope him out and tell me what you think. Whose team does he bat for?”
By the time Marguerite had the backpack on her shoulders, Tammy returned with a thoughtful scowl on her face. “I don’t know. It’s too close to call. Psycho Prep is right, he’s stunning. Offhand, I’d say straight, ’cause he has this ‘do me’ factor all over him that makes you want to take a bite out of his succulent flesh. That being said, he’s dressed in a black silk shirt that’s open at the neck, sleeves rolled back on his arms, and it’s left untucked. Of course he does have a really cool tat on his left arm. But…”
Tammy wrinkled her nose. “He has on black slacks and really, really expensive black Italian loafers. Ferragamos, I think. Gotta say that sets off my gaydar big-time. Straight men don’t normally dress that good. Not to mention he has one of those expensive haircuts, but at the same time it’s kind of shabby. He’s not really watching anyone, male or female, who walks by. It’s weird. So I’d say our team has a fifty-fifty shot he bats for us. Or maybe he’s a switch-hitter.”
“Oooh, a mystery,” Marguerite said as she headed out of the classroom to see him for herself. “Let me see what I think.…”
There was quite a stir in the hallway as women gawked or tried to be inconspicuous in their ogling of him. At first all she could see was the top of his blond hair over the crowd.
It was hard to navigate through the estrogen sea of women who wanted a closer look at him. And as she made her way closer, Marguerite had to admit he was completely stunning. She was far from immune to the “‘do me’ factor” that Tammy had mentioned.
His face was perfect, with full, sensual lips that just begged for a hot kiss. He had high cheekbones and a patrician nose. His dark blond hair was shorter in back than in front, with pieces of it falling strategically into his eyes to add an air of mystery to him. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he held a bouquet of roses and a large box of Godiva chocolates. His skin was a deep, tawny gold.
It wasn’t until he took a step toward her and she saw the exact color of his turquoise eyes that recognition hit her square in the chest.
It couldn’t be.…
“Wren?”
He didn’t pause until he stood before her and offered her that familiar hesitant smile before he literally nuzzled her cheek, then gave her a light, gentle kiss.
Tammy paused beside them and cleared her throat. “Switch-hitter?” she asked.
Marguerite laughed. “Oh no. This one is definitely on our team, trust me.”
Tammy high-fived her. “You go, girl. Make sure you score a few home runs for our side.”
Wren frowned as Tammy headed off. “Should I ask about that?”
Marguerite laughed nervously. “No. I would definitely prefer that you didn’t.”
His scowl only increased as he handed her the flowers and candy. “I got these for you.”
It was so strangely corny and clichéd, and yet it made her heart pound that he had done it. No man had ever given her flowers and candy before. “Thank you.”
Biting her lip, she reached up and brushed at his new hair, which was incredibly silky between her fingers. The soft texture reminded her more of an animal pelt than human hair.
It looked really good on him, but part of her missed the old Wren. “What did you do?”
Uncertainty darkened his eyes. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I think I do.” She’d known he was cute, but she’d had no idea he was so incredibly sexy. There was something about this new Wren look that made her even hotter than the old one. Who knew a haircut could make such a difference?
“You didn’t do this for me, did you?”
He looked away sheepishly.
Warmth flooded her. “You didn’t have to cut your hair, Wren. I liked it the other way, too.”
He glanced around at the women who were slowly dispersing. “I didn’t want to embarrass you anymore.”
She reached up and pulled his face down so that she could press her cheek to his. The masculine scent of his skin and aftershave set fire to her hormones. But it was his sacrifice that set fire to her heart.
“You’ve never embarrassed me, Wren,” she whispered in his ear. “I don’t think you ever could.”
Wren couldn’t breathe as the scent of her washed over him. It was all he could do to control himself. The feeling of her skin on his … of her hand on his cheek … It was wonderful. Her touch scalded him and it touched the tiny part of him that was human. More than that, it touched his animal heart and tamed it. He never thought he’d feel anything like this.
He was at peace. Calm. Soothed. There was no pain. No past. No taunts echoing in his head.
All there was inside him was Maggie and a foreign, giddy joy the likes of which he’d never known.
It was a feeling he didn’t want to end.
To his instant dismay, she pulled back to look up at him. “So how did you know to find me here? Are you like some freaky stalker?”
Wren grinned at that. Honestly, the animal in him could track her with ease anywhere on this planet. She had a unique scent of woman and tea rose laced with the Finesse shampoo that she used. But it would probably scare her to know that she could never hide from him.
“Your schedule was in your backpack. I looked at it before I returned it to you yesterday.”
She offered him a shy smile that made him harden before she bent her head down to smell the roses he’d brought for her. He reached out to touch her.
“Who’s your friend, Margeaux?”
Wren withdrew his hand instantly as he recognized one of the women who had gone to the bar with Maggie on the night they’d met.
Marguerite turned to see Whitney behind her, eyeing Wren speculatively. “Whitney, meet Wren.”
Whitney looked confused by that. “Wren? The grubby busboy who had Blaine arrested?”
Marguerite was quick to defend Wren. “Blaine started the fight.”
She doubted Whitney heard her, since she was eyeing Wren like a hungry tigress who had spotted a pork chop on a plate. The only problem was that the pork chop belonged to Marguerite, who had no intention of sharing him with anyone.
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him away. “Wren and I have a date. We’ll see you later.”
Wren leaned down and did that warm, wonderful action of gently nuzzling her cheek before he covered her hand with his and led her toward the exit.
* * *
Wren still didn’t really understand why he’d sought out Maggie. Humans had never held any real interest for him in the past. As a Katagari male, he shouldn’t be so attracted to her. At least not anything more than physically.
And yet she fascinated him as she drove him to her small cottage by the zoo. All he wanted was to curl up in her lap and purr. Something that didn’t make sense, since what he normally wanted was to rip the arm off anyone dumb enough to come near him.
She kept glancing over at him and gifting him with the sweetest little shy smile that he’d ever seen on a woman’s face. But even worse on his self-restraint was the desire he felt from her. She was as hungry for him as he was for her, and it was making him feral.
The cat in him wanted to snarl and to stalk.
More than that, it wanted to mate.
By the time she pulled into her driveway, his entire body was throbbing. Alert.
And it wanted her with a ferocity that scared the shit out of him. There was no way he could leave her until he had tasted her.
Marguerite opened her car door and got out. Wren was there on her side of the car before she’d even had a chance to pull her book bag out.
“I’ll carry it,” he said quietly.
He’d moved so fast that it was practically inhuman.…
Nodding, she reached in to get her flowers and chocolate to carry them into her house. Wren followed her to the stoop, then stood back while she unlocked her door and let them in.
She went to set the flowers down on her end table. Before she could even straighten up, he was behind her. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled deeply as if he were savoring her. She’d never felt anything like it. She could feel his entire length against her back. Marguerite actually shivered at the sensualness of that action.
She found herself leaning back against him as his arms came around her to hold her close. In this position, she could feel his erection plainly against her hip. Wren was a large man, powerful.
“You smell good enough to eat,” he whispered against her ear.
Marguerite couldn’t answer, as her entire body burned from his presence. She laid her hands against his forearms and traced the jungle scene tattoo of a white tiger lurking in tall grass that ran the length of Wren’s left one. There was so much strength and power in his arms that it made her feel weak. Trembling. She’d never known any man to make her feel like this.
He turned her in his arms so that she was facing him. His pale turquoise eyes were hot and electrifying. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.
Marguerite held him to her as every hormone in her body sizzled. Never in her life had she been more aroused. More aware of any man. His tongue spiked against hers as he pressed her even closer to his lean, hard body. Her hardened nipples brushed against his chest, making her moan from the contact and from the insatiable desire to touch him without their clothes separating them.
She’d never been the kind of woman to hop into bed with a guy she’d just met. In fact, she’d only known two other lovers in her life. One had been a friend her first year of college and the other had been a guy she’d dated for a little over a year. Those times had been pleasant enough but never stellar.
The men hadn’t made her feel like this … made her feel like she would die if she didn’t touch them. Made her burn in pleasure of the thought of having them inside her.
But Wren did.
Her breasts were heavy and aching. Her breath ragged as it mingled with his while they kissed.
He lifted the hem of her skirt up slowly, so slowly that the expectation was almost painful. She groaned at the feel of his callused hands on her bare skin. At the sensation of the heat of his skin mixed with the cool air as he caressed her with firm, confident hands. It was the most erotic moment of her life. She was already wet and throbbing, needing to feel even more of him. It was all she could do not to beg him to have mercy on her.
Wren explored her mouth, wanting to taste more of her. He’d never felt hunger like this. Needful. Throbbing. Demanding. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her as he lifted her skirt even more so that he could feel the softness of her thighs. She was a warm, perfect heaven.
He’d never touched a woman before, at least not like this, and he was beginning to understand why as the animal inside him roared with ferocity. It was a dangerous beast that wanted to devour her. It roared and clawed, wanting freedom.
Wanting her.
Raw possessiveness swelled up inside him with a stunning ferocity. He finally understood why animals killed those who came near their territory. If anyone else ever touched her …
Wren would rip them to shreds.
He left her lips and buried his mouth against her throat where he felt her heartbeat pounding. Licking and teasing her soft skin, he slowly slid his hand down underneath the waistband of her dark blue panties. He half-expected her to stop him, but she didn’t. Instead, she parted her legs more, giving him access to the part of her that he craved as she held on to his shoulders.
Oh yeah, this was what he needed. He felt her shiver as he stroked her with a tenderness he’d never known he possessed. If anyone had ever told him that he could hold a woman and not hurt her, he would have laughed at them, and yet he was gently holding Maggie.
No, he was making love to her. It was a human term that he’d never understood until this moment. But even more surprising was the fact that he was enjoying it so much.
Her short, crisp hairs brushed his fingers as he sank his hand down farther, seeking her. He separated the tender folds of her body until he could touch the part of her that he needed most. He closed his eyes and trembled as he sank one long finger deep inside her.
