Stormy Weather
By Selena Blake
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Copyright ©2011 Selena Blake
Smashwords Edition
Contents
¨
The Cajun’s Captive
Bitten In The Bayou
Seduced by a Cajun Werewolf
Mated to a Cajun Werewolf
Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf
The Cajun’s Captive
Dedication
To Dena Celeste, for being such a wonderful friend and always being there when I need a quick read. And to Deanna Lee, for believing in me.
Chapter One
June
The low rumble of thunder drew Sebastian Deveraux's gaze to the East window where he could see the mighty Mississippi and its churning dark waters. The morning's slow drizzle reached a downpour crescendo. He sighed, knowing that the hurricane looming in the Gulf of Mexico would wreak havoc with his shipping business. At least for the next few weeks.
The wet weather and dropping barometer made his joints ache. He knew he should at least call the office to make sure his second in command had things under control, but he was having a hard time convincing his body to get out of bed. As the Alpha, it was his job to protect his pack and take care of their needs. And that took money. In another few years, it would be time to sell Deveraux Shipping and fade into the woodwork.
Humans would get suspicious if the CEO of a shipping empire never seemed to age. He was feeling ancient today. And lonely to boot.
In his wolf form, he rose up on all fours and stretched before heading to his closet. The original floors of the old plantation house were cool against his paws. He'd loved the wide pine planks on sight and hadn't wanted to do anything more than seal them and toss down a soft rug or two.
Inside his closet, he transformed into his human self, his muscles and bones stretching and compacting until he straightened to his full six feet four inches. He leaned his head to the right and heard, as much as felt, his neck pop. Today's muggy weather called for jeans and a T-shirt.
He was zipping his favorite pair of Levi's when the scent of gumbo wafted under his nose. He sniffed the air appreciatively. One of his brothers must be heating up last nights leftovers for breakfast. Like any red-blooded man or beast, he loved to eat. Loved meat, loved anything that set his taste buds on fire and made his mouth water.
Dieu, he missed France. Missed the food, craved the bread, a sip of French wine straight from the vineyard. But he could never go back. He clenched his jaw at the flood of memories that rushed forth.
Slipping a T-shirt over his head, he strode to the kitchen and found André stirring the gumbo in a heavy cast iron pot. They nodded at each other in greeting.
“Coffee's on,” André said, his deep voice sleepy and rough.
“Merci. Jules up yet?”
“Non. Think any more about what he said, mon frere?”
Sebastian had thought of little else. He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep last night. Jules, and the rest of their small pack, wanted a secure future and everything that went with it. Mates, kids. Sebastian wanted the same thing. But that security came with a price. As wealthy as he was, it didn't matter when he wasn't mated.
Being mated was a sign of security, one he longed to give his brothers and cousins. A complete Alpha pair. It would signify their future.
But when he thought of his other half, the woman who’d stand at his side, it wasn’t a she-wolf he pictured. And when he thought of his pups, they didn’t have dark hair like he and his brothers. They were angelic blonds with piercing blue eyes and infectious smiles.
Impossible. He mentally shook the thoughts away.
“I can't just pick up a mate at the market,” Sebastian said. He'd said as much last night.
André watched him with dark eyes. The same eyes that all the Deveraux men were blessed with: dark as night, filled with stormy emotions and a sense of cunning found only in a true predator.
“Forgive me, brother, but I don't think dating bimbos and celebrities is going to help in your search.”
“I didn't realize I was searching,” Sebastian said. He took a sip of the strong black elixir that promised to jolt him awake. The hot liquid hit his tongue and scalded its way down his throat.
Truth was, there was only one woman he'd ever wanted as a mate. But she obviously wasn't destined to be his other half, his Luna. The weight of his responsibility pressed down heavily on his shoulders. He knew he should step aside and let André become the Alpha, but nothing was that simple. There was no stepping aside for wolves. Everything had to be fought and won. And Sebastian had no intention of fighting his own brother.
After a long pause, André muttered, “We all wanted her, you know.”
“She was never yours to have,” Sebastian snapped. André didn't look surprised or hurt at the outburst; he simply flicked his gaze to the floor, but Sebastian apologized anyway.
“You should go after her,” his brother ventured.
“It wasn't meant to be.”
“Are you still buying into that stars aligning crap? Mon Dieu. Enough already, mon frere. If you want her, you must go get her. Make her listen to reason. Find out why she ran. Bring her back and make her yours.” André's voice rang with emotion. He almost sounded like he, himself, had been in love. Painfully, completely... and lost her. “Tie her up if you have to.”
A sharp sound outside caught his attention. Not thunder, nor rain. Something else. A low growl sounded from the hallway.
“Jules is up,” Sebastian said and headed toward the sound. Even though he saw nothing out of place, he knew that the walls around his estate didn't keep out reporters, tourists, and the occasional woman, desperate for a wealthy husband. His sharper wolf senses took over as he slipped into his bedroom and looked around. It was just as he'd left it. He saw nothing but rain through the window, but his keen ears could hear someone breathing. He exited his room and moved toward the front of the house. His brother, Jules—still in furry form—was in the large foyer.
“You take the back,” Sebastian told him and headed for the front door.
The wide front porch wrapped all the way around the house and he quickly made his way to far side that ran the length of his bedroom. The rain beat on the roof above his head, drowning out his footsteps.
The blonde peering into his bedroom window never heard him approach.
“Can I help you?” he asked mildly when he was within pouncing distance. Shrieking, she whirled to face him, backing up at the same time. Her hands came up to balance herself, but it was too late. He made no move to rescue her even though he could have. Her momentum toppled her over the railing and into the soggy grass below. She landed flat on her back.
From the edge of the porch, he stared down at her not feeling the least bit sorry for startling her. What did a man have to do to get privacy?
Her wheat colored hair covered her face and the rain slowly soaked her clothes. She seemed too startled to move. Finally, she eased up on her elbows. Her breasts heaved and fell as if she might start crying. The last thing he wanted was a crying woman. Or a lawsuit.
“You all right?”
With a perfectly polished hand, she flicked her hair out of her face and glared up at him. The blue eyes that locked with his couldn't have surprised him more if there'd been eight of them.
Amanda St. James. Alive and in his yard.
Couldn't be. He narrowed his gaze and took in her features. Same cute pixie nose. Same rosy, heart-shaped mouth he'd longed to kiss. Same delicious curves that his hands itched to caress.
Suddenly he was transported a decade ago when they'd all been hanging out on a hot summer day. It had been August. Suffocatingly humid. Then Amanda had grabbed the hose and proceeded to drench him and his brothers to the bone. Her kissable mouth had laughed and smiled as they'd chased her. When they'd finally caught her, turning the hose on her, the water had plastered her clothes to her sweet young body.
It had taken all his willpower not to carry her off that very afternoon. To kiss her all over—from that adorable nose, to those delicious berry pink lips, to her hot pink toenails.
The clap of thunder brought him back to the present. His eyes didn't fool him. He sniffed the air and her scent filled his lungs. She smelled so sweet, so familiar, and so wonderful that he almost closed his eyes to savor it. Instead, he took in her pitiful form. She looked like a drowned cat. He watched as the rain molded her shirt to her breasts. Either from cold or, heaven help him, desire, her nipples beaded beneath the fabric and stood out like pebbles.
He clenched his fists. Long dormant need surged upward startling him with its intensity. Its rawness. He hadn't seen or heard from her in nine long years but he’d never stopped wanting her. It was the reason he dated a long stream of women, never settling down. He’d never felt this kind of urgency with anyone else. Although he'd tried to wipe away her memory, none of them could compare to Manda. His Manda.
But her presence now reminded him of how she'd fled all those years ago. She'd gone off to Yankee country for school. Then she'd gone on to work for one of the biggest broadcast companies in the country. Never looked back. Never called. Simply fled. Ran from him.
His inner beast had been too proud to let him chase. Had been sure she'd come back in a week or two. Weeks had turned into years and now almost a decade. Now the beast growled deep inside, for the years he'd lost, for making him want her so, making him wait. It lay coiled, anxious and ready to spring to life and take what it wanted.
He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep the dangerous animal inside on a tight leash.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't Amanda St. James.” He couldn't keep the disdain from his voice. He hoped to hell she couldn't hear the hurt, the yearning... “Did the Yanks kick you out? Get too cold for ya up north?”
“What a mean thing to say.” For a moment, she looked genuinely wounded. But he told himself that was part of her game. The network probably sent her.
“Then what are ya doin’ here?” Probably snooping for a story, he thought. Figured she'd use her looks, her connections, to get it. Like hell, she was going to get her story.
Her tongue slipped between her glossy pink lips to lick a raindrop. That simple movement reminded him of all the times she'd licked her lips, stuck out her tongue at him—reminded him of everything he really wanted in life.
And just how much he wanted to kiss her.
Once again, he took in her sad wet form and saw everything he'd wanted for hundreds of years. Everything he'd been denied and had denied himself.
Sebastian knew he couldn't be angry; she was worth the wait. He couldn't let her get away again. This was a sign from the Gods. She was meant to be his. He'd known it all those years ago when he'd watched her blossom in front of his eyes. While he'd waited for her to grow up. Waited for her to come to him.
He still knew it. Nothing had changed, he reasoned. Except that he wanted her more now than he had nine years ago.
And she was well over eighteen now. He would finally make her his.
With the effortless grace his kind was known for, he leapt over the railing and landed at her feet. Oblivious to the rain, he glared down at her.
“Get up,” he ordered. She started to crab crawl backwards but she couldn't get away fast enough. In a lightning fast move, he hoisted her over his shoulder. She barely weighed more than a sack or two of sugar.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“Taking what's mine.”
He knew the instant she comprehended his words. She squirmed and wiggled like a bunny in a trap, but it didn't matter. He had her where he wanted her.
For now.
Chapter Two
“Put me down!”
“Relax, chérie.” He carried her around to the front of the house and across the threshold, past the open wooden door. His brothers were nowhere to be seen.
“I'll give you the quick tour,” he said, knowing she couldn't see more than the floor. “The foyer. This is the hallway. And this...” He deposited her in the middle of his oversized bathroom. “Is the bathroom.”
She shivered as his gaze raked over her petite frame. Her nipples were still beaded beneath the fabric. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look. He merely raised an eyebrow.
“Who do you think you are?” Her eyes blazed up at him and color stained her cheeks even as droplets of water slid down her creamy skin.
She'd always been the embodiment of beauty. Natural, wholesome, dazzling in her sweetness. Even now, in her black Capris and soaking white top that would give any woman in a wet T-shirt contest a run for her money. Even when she looked angry as fire, there was still a sweetness about her.
Why was she angry? he wondered. She was the one trespassing on his property. And it wasn't his fault she'd done a back flip into the mud. Okay, so technically it was his fault since he’d surprised her, but…
“You know exactly who I am, chérie. Or have you forgotten since you ran away?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
He could tell she was trying not to shiver, not show him any weakness. Her eyes feigned innocence.
“Don't play innocent, doll. You know who I am, just like I know who you are. I've always known.”
“You're right. I know what you are. What I want to know is why you’re acting like a caveman!”
“What is it you think you know, petite?” he asked, ignoring her last question.
She backed away from him, her eyes going wide. “Loup-garou,” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
Her French was surprisingly rusty and he threw back his head and laughed. “You think I'm a Cajun werewolf? That I kill bad little Catholics? Is that what you think?”
“I saw you.”
Shit. She’d been watching when he’d walked into his closet. Perhaps it was time to call his decorator to install some automatic blinds.
“Hey, Wolf. Come!” he called to his brother. Jules, still in his wolf form, padded into the bathroom. Sebastian could see the surprise, the interest in his brother's keen brown eyes. His rough brown coat seemed to bristle when he looked up at Amanda.
“Is this what you saw?” he asked her.
“It's a trick!” Her hands came down on her hips and she scowled at them.
“No trick, chérie. Now, why don't you tell me what you're really doing here?” He bent down and scratched Jules behind the ears as he would a dog. Jules hated this kind of treatment, but Sebastian knew he was accepting it because he wanted to know why lil' Manda St. James was in Sebastian's bathroom.
“I—I didn't know this was your house.” She was lying through her pretty pink lips. Jules must have known it, too, because he growled low in his throat. Manda backed up another step and hit the granite counter top. She reached back to steady herself.
“S'okay boy,” he reassured quietly and glanced back up at her. “We don't believe that chérie. We know you're here to do a story on me. What's your angle? Big businessman dating Hollywood Starlet? Or are you going for something more local?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she repeated. This time her voice didn't quiver. She actually sounded like she believed what she was saying.
“Really? Go get something to eat, Wolf,” he said, dismissing his brother. Jules slowly backed from the room and trotted away. Sebastian straightened and stepped toward her until they were toe-to-toe. She leaned away with a little gasp that told him she wasn't as calm as she wanted him to believe. There was desire in the depths of those pretty blue eyes and her body called to his. He longed to pinch her nipples between his fingers until she cried out his name. Until she begged him to take her. Instead, he settled for placing a hand on the counter on either side of her and leaning in close. This way he wouldn't miss a detail of her reaction.
“I know about you too,” he continued. “How you ran away. Went to Columbia. Graduated with honors. Went on to sign with ABC. You just got promoted. What am I missing, Amanda?”
“I didn't run away,” she told him firmly, even as she shivered.
“I don't believe you, but it doesn't matter. This is a game you don't want to play with me, Amanda. I might have lost you all those years ago, but I'm not going to lose this time. You're back and I don't intend to let you leave again.”
He didn't give her a chance to say a word. Instead, he flicked the shower on and gave her a dark look that told her to do exactly what he said.
“Get out of those wet clothes.”
A look of surprise crossed her face that would have amused him had she not then glanced at the door as if to gauge how quickly she could get away from him.
“So you don't catch cold. You're welcome to use my shower to warm up, chérie,” he said, letting his voice drop to a seductive low. Then he turned to leave. “But I can't promise I won't join you,” he said from the doorway.
Sebastian closed the door behind Jules and himself and heard her yell after him.
“You're a rat, Sebastian Deveraux.”
Chapter Three
Trembling, Amanda sank down onto the cold tile floor. She stared at the door Sebastian had just exited and wondered what she'd gotten herself into. He wasn't the same man she remembered. Gorgeous with a sensuality that should have been illegal, yes. But he was also angry. And if she could trust his words, possessive.
He'd looked so predatory. Like the animal she'd always thought him to be. So much the same and yet different.
Tall, dark, dangerously handsome. Deep brown eyes, jet black hair, and a tan from years in the sunny South. The small scar on his jaw added to his dangerous sex appeal.
She tipped her head against the cabinet and let her mind drift back to a decade ago when she'd had a painful crush on Sebastian. She'd never let on though. When he wasn't treating her like a kid sister, he'd looked at her like she was the only woman he'd ever wanted. And when she wasn't daydreaming about him, she'd been as confused as hell by his sudden mood swings.
He'd played hot and cold so often she'd felt like her head was spinning. So she'd moved away. Away from his reach, the temptation. Away from what she'd always known would be her destruction: love for a man who didn't love her back.
She'd thrown herself into school and then into work. All the while, telling herself that she could get over him, that she was over him.
And then she'd received that note.
God help her, she'd convinced herself that there wouldn't be anything between them. No more chemistry, no more mushy insides when he smiled at her just so, no more aching in her heart when he showed off that protective side of his nature that she'd always loved.
But he was more potent now than he'd ever been.
What the hell had she been thinking, coming here?
She hadn't been thinking. Not really. Just following her heart. Her heart that had stupidly been seduced by a gorgeous arrangement of flowers and a few words on a crisp linen card.
She massaged her temples trying to ward off the impending headache. It didn't help. She was still cold and miserable.
Steam rose above the glass doors of the shower, beckoning to her. Slowly, she stood up.
He'd seemed positively shocked to find her on his property, she mused as she stripped out of her clothes. Angry about it. But surely, he expected to hear from her?
“This can't be happening,” she whispered. Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched herself. Ouch. Definitely awake. Still in Sebastian Deveraux's enormous bathroom. Still shivering from cold and desire.
He'd leaned close, too close for comfort, and stared into her eyes as if he could read all her secrets.
She bit her lip, knowing he probably could. She stepped into the large tile shower and let the hot water rain down on her skin, driving away the cold. It made her want to moan with delight, but she didn't dare.
She reached for the bottle of shampoo and inhaled the fresh refreshing scent of juniper and eucalyptus. It did little to calm the rapid pulse in her veins.
Even after all this time, he could still make her tremble. She still yearned for his touch, was dying for his kiss; still craved the completion she'd secretly known that only he could bring.
But the things she'd heard about him and his brothers were true. Softly spoken words carried on the winds. She’d known it. The reality of what she'd seen shouldn't have surprised her, but it made her tremble. She'd always had a gut feeling about him and his brothers and she always listened to her gut.
Except for when it had told her to stay in Louisiana all those years ago. She couldn't end up like her mother. She wouldn't.
And right now, her gut was telling her to get as far away from Sebastian as possible.
Sebastian gave her exactly twenty minutes before he entered the bathroom again. He didn't bother to knock. It was, after all, his bathroom and she was after all, a trespasser. She squeaked in surprise and tightened the fluffy white towel around her wet body.
“Privacy please!”
He dropped his gaze to the pile of clothes heaped on the floor. Knowing that the lacy bra and barely-there-thong had been hugging her sweet body most of the day only fueled the flames inside him.
“I thought you said I was da Big Bad Wolf, chérie. Now you call me a rat. Yes, I heard you,” he said when she raised her eyebrows. “Any other animals I remind you of?”
Her chin came up and she stared at him with those crystal blue eyes. Her hair hung over her shoulder like honey colored waterfalls.
“Non? Bien. Gumbo's ready.” He made for the door, scooping up her clothes and sandals as he went.
“Sebastian!”
“What is it, petite?”
“Clothes?”
“Ahh. I thought you might come to the table in da nude?”
“You're out of your mind,” she told him hotly. Her fire fed his, but she didn't know that.
“You won't always think dat. I assure you. There's a robe inside dat door.” He turned on the Cajun accent and charm because he knew she wouldn't be able to resist. You could take a girl out of da swamp, but you couldn't stop her from lovin’ a Cajun.
“Thank you.”
* * * * *
Jules was transformed, dressed and sitting at the old pine table in the kitchen by the time Sebastian finished tossing Manda's clothes in the washer. If he had his say, she wouldn't be needing them for quite some time.
Delicious aromas wafted from the stove: sausage and shrimp, rice and beans, and several spices. His stomach growled.
“What the hell's she doin’ here?” Jules asked, curiosity and concern lacing his words. His hands clamped around a mug as André poured them all a fresh cup of coffee. There was electricity in the air that had nothing to do with the storm outside and everything to do with the woman under their roof.
Years ago, they'd fought over her. Fought like the wolves they were. And in the end, none of them had won her. If everything went according to his plan, as quickly devised as it was, they'd have their Luna, and he'd have his mate.
“Not sure yet. Probably snoopin' for a story,” Sebastian said.
Jules’ brows furrowed. “You've got that look,” he said.
André nodded.
“What look?” Sebastian stirred the gumbo.
“The ‘yer up to something' look.”
“Yer right. I'm cookin'.”
Jules just laughed and added another spoon to the table.
“How's the hurricane?” Sebastian asked.
“Cat 2. The dry air'll slow down winds. It's comin’ quick though.”
Sebastian agreed with that. Third storm of the season and it was moving fast. Wind speed didn't concern him as much as the water, but there was a good chance it would pass them by.
He heard the gentle footfalls before Manda poked her head around the corner. Her blonde hair was still damp and stringy. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and then glanced at his brothers.
“Hi Jules, André. It's good to see you.”
Jules looked her up and down with an appreciative glint in his eye. “You too.”
What André had said about them all wanting her was true. Was true even now. Sebastian could smell their blood pumping through their veins.
Her skin was free from the mud and grass, fresh and clean. She looked small and fragile in Sebastian's big black robe. In fact, it looked like she'd had to wrap it around her twice.
He smiled. The knowledge that she was naked beneath the robe made his cock stir. He couldn't help letting his gaze fall on the large wooden table between them, knowing it would easily support their weight. That he could push open the robe and feast his eyes on her body, trail his hands over her flesh, sink into her until they were both complete.
“Um, do you have a first aid kit?”
Her words pulled him from his lust-filled fantasy. She held out her hand, palm up. He could see a faint scratch.
“I couldn't find one and--”
Before she could finish her sentence, he crossed the room and took her hand in his. He felt her heartbeat race beneath his touch.
“I'll get it,” Jules volunteered.
Her silky smooth skin was cool, soft. It took all his control not to kiss her wrist. Trail his tongue along the delicate vein coursing just below her skin. Would she let him or would she snatch her hand back?
Didn't matter. He enjoyed a good chase. He was, after all, a wolf in human clothing.
“Here ya go.” Jules handed him the first aid kit.
Sebastian directed Manda to a nearby chair and opened the white metal box. With a few swift movements, he applied ointment and a bandage, inwardly chanting to himself that soon she would be his.
“The food smells good,” she said and pulled her hand from his grasp.
She smelled good. Good enough to lick, nibble, and taste. He'd always thought she smelled of raspberries, but right now, she smelled fresh, like rain.
Sebastian glanced at Jules. His eyes were stormy gray. Undoubtedly, he could smell her freshness too.
“Let me serve it up, then,” Sebastian said quickly. He could feel Manda looking at him as he pulled the bowls off the shelf and began ladling out the gumbo. What was she thinking? Was she regretting her decision to trespass?
“So, Sebastian says you're here to do a story on him,” Jules said, cocking his head to the side as he regarded her. Sebastian sat the bowl on the table in front of them and then stood back to watch.
“He misunderstood. I'm not here to do a story on him. I wouldn't do that.”
“Really?” Jules glanced at Sebastian before pegging her with another stare. “Even after he broke up with Carmen what's-her-name?”
“Not even after he broke up with Carmen what's-her-name,” she said flatly and dipped into the gumbo.
“He's still the most eligible bachelor in Louisiana, you know.”
Jules would have made a great lawyer, Sebastian thought. He wasn't giving away anything that wasn't public knowledge or opinion, but he was definitely turning up the heat under Manda. He stifled a grin as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Course, you probably knew that. Working at the Network and all. Bet it's easy to keep tabs on old friends.” He stretched out the last word.
“What do you want me to say? I told you I'm not here to do a story on him.”
“Are you here to do a story on me?” Jules asked. He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her that almost canine smile Sebastian knew most women found charming. He wasn’t pleased to see her frown turn into the slightest of smiles.
“Why would I do a story on you?” she asked.
Jules leaned across the table, his polo shirt outlining his muscular build.
“Because, chérie. I'm the second most eligible bachelor in Louisiana.”
The wolf inside demanded Sebastian claim her as his and right now, but he mentally tightened the leash. He didn’t want to scare her. He wanted her screaming with pleasure, not fear.
Amanda drowned in sensations. Sebastian stood close by, his presence unnerving, and Jules looked as if he wanted to eat her. He was just as breath-stealingly handsome as his brothers. Jet-black hair that glistened in the overhead light...piercing eyes so dark she could be staring into the night sky...tanned skin stretched over hard muscles. It was enough to make a girl drool.
She forced down a spoon full of gumbo. The flavors exploded on her tongue. It was better than anything she'd ever tasted in New York. The heat and texture combined to do a little Cajun dance in her mouth and she wanted to groan, but she wasn't about to give Sebastian the satisfaction.
So the man could cook. Big deal. Why couldn't she have found a man in New York who could cook? Weren't there a billion chefs in New York City?
“Sorry. I'm not here for you.” She tried to regain control but the words came out wrong.
“So you're here for him?” Jules asked not missing a beat.
“Nope.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Ever thought about a career in journalism? You've got the interrogation part down pat.”
“Somehow, I don't think that was a compliment.”
“It wasn't.”
“Why are you here?” Sebastian asked. His voice was deep, heavenly.
Amanda looked at him and her breath faltered. He was leaning against the counter, his legs crossed at the ankles, a bowl of gumbo in his strong hands.
Was he really so clueless? It didn't matter. She just needed to get out of here pronto, and figure out what she was going to do with herself for the rest of her life, now that she knew time and distance wouldn’t change her feelings for this man.
He stepped forward, gazing down at her with probing eyes. She found it hard to formulate an excuse and decided the truth was her best bet.
“I got the flowers. Thank you,” she said and turned back to her own bowl. Chill bumps broke out over her skin as they always did when Sebastian was near. Her nipples began to harden into little peaks. She couldn't help staring at his fingers, wondering what they would feel like on her skin.
“Flowers?” Jules and André echoed in unison.
She nodded. “At my father's funeral. They were beautiful.”
“Funeral?” Sebastian asked. He sounded puzzled.
Unease settled over her and she frowned up at him.
“Yes, Sebastian, the flowers you sent. Last week, after my father died.” She emphasized his name.
“You sent her flowers?” André asked, looking pleased.
“I have the note in my car. I thought--” she broke off. Oh, it didn't matter what she thought. Obviously, she'd been wrong. Again. Just like she had all those years ago. Only last time, she’d had the proof of how foolish her thoughts from his own mouth.
His secretary had probably sent the stupid flowers.
“What did you think?” Sebastian’s tone was quiet and seductive.
She fumed. So he was still playing games. “Are my clothes ready? I really need to go. I have a plane to catch.”
“They're in the wash. You're not going anywhere.”
His tone had changed to one full of authority, only adding to her rising irritation. The perfect example of hot and cold.
Why the hell had she even come back here? She could have just sent a thank you card. Honestly, what had she expected? Him to throw open his front door, get down on his knees and profess his undying love for her? Admit his stupidity at letting her go in the first place, and then for not coming after her for nine years?
Hah. Like that was going to happen.
Gathering her wits, she stood and smiled at Jules and André. Good gracious, they were handsome. Much more so than she remembered.
“Thanks for the gumbo. It was good to see you two again.” She straightened her spine and turned to look at Sebastian. “You'll understand if I have your robe sent to you.”
With that, she turned and fled the kitchen. She ran across the pine floors toward the front door. She had to find her keys. Clutching the robe around her, she reached for the doorknob.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her into the air.
“Put me down!”
“Not gonna happen, chѐrie.”
“Put me down this instant, Sebastian.” Her voice was full of heat and censure.
He slung her over his shoulder enjoying the feel of her small squirming body. He knew he shouldn't get so excited by her helpless struggles, but he couldn't help himself. She beat her small fists against his back as if that would make a difference.
He laughed and nipped at the flesh of her hip. “Not on your life, sweetheart. We've gotta get on the road.”
“The road?”
“Oui. Hurricane's a comin’. Gotta get the camp ready. Don't want any broken windows.” He knew he could've had his cousin Burke do the job. Heck, even Jules could've done it. But doing it himself meant being alone with Manda. In the middle of nowhere. Where she couldn't get away. Where she'd have to come clean.
Where no one could hear her scream.
He had plans for that gorgeous body of hers. He couldn't wait to feel her feminine curves against him, under him. Her tight sheath around his cock as he slid in and out of her, bringing them both to the brink of ecstasy.
“There's no reason for me to go with you,” she insisted, sounding a little more panicked now and a lot more breathless.
“Sure there is, chérie.” Sebastian opened the front door and stepped out into the hot damp air.
“I don't think so.” She kicked, her knee nailing him in the gut.
“Hold still, woman! I don’ wanna hurt you.”
That got her attention. She froze atop his shoulder.
He started down the stairs toward the garage. The rain showered down on them, soaking the thin fabric of his T-shirt, but he hardly noticed.
“Just let me go, Sebastian. I have a job, a life in New York!” she pleaded.
“And some boyfriend up there as well, no doubt.”
“I don't have a boyfriend.”
“Really? No boyfriend.” He entered the garage and pulled his key chain from his pocket.
“Really. Now. Put. Me. Down!”
“Can't. You've seen too much.”
Chapter Four
The next thing Amanda knew, she was in the back of Sebastian's Mercedes with her hands and feet tied. She'd caught a glimpse of the license plate before he'd deposited her in the backseat. Appropriately, it read ALPHA. She sneered with disgust, partly at him, partly at herself, but mostly at the whole situation.
“I can't believe you tied me up. You big jerk,” she yelled as he circled the car.
He laughed as he landed in the driver's seat and glanced back at her in the rear view mirror. “So, I'm a jerk and a rat.” He sounded amused.
She wanted to wipe the amusement off his face. For the hundredth time, she wondered what the hell had caused her to drive out to his sprawling estate and get out of her car. And what had possessed her to hop the fence instead of ringing from the call box? She knew her curiosity had gotten the better of her. That was never going to happen again.
Part of her wanted to give him what for. The other part desperately wanted to curl up in his arms and beg him to make love to her.
She was crazy for even thinking it. She'd seen him with her own eyes... in wolf form. With fur, four paws and a snout. A slow tremor shook her body and she told herself not to be afraid. He’d never hurt her before, why would he start now. But even though she'd believed for years, seeing it, seeing the truth... she couldn't stop trembling.
“You should thank me, chérie.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I just saved you from having three men at once.”
A gasp caught in her throat, but to her surprise and humiliation, she found her pussy growing damp at the thought. How perverted was that? What was wrong with her?
Sure, she’d been attracted to all three Deveraux brothers when she’d been young. But she was an adult now. She couldn’t be thinking about them like that. And certainly not together.
But the thought lingered. She wondered what it would be like to be with the three of them. Could they stop fighting long enough to drive her crazy with pleasure? Nibbling on her bottom lip, she let her imagination run away with her. Six hands to caress her skin, three hard cocks to ride until she couldn’t stand up.
“Forget it Amanda. It’s not going to happen,” Sebastian said darkly. A crack of thunder drove his point home.
“You’re crazy,” she chided even as she pressed her thighs together and tried to think of anything but being in bed with the three of them.
“I’m not the one thinking naughty thoughts about screwing three men at once.” A jet-black eyebrow rose in a way she found both arrogant and infuriating.
Obviously, he could read her thoughts. She fumed silently, sprawled across the backseat with the bathrobe gaping open. No doubt, passing truckers would get an eyeful. That just pissed her off more. The Sebastian she'd known and loved would've never put her on display like this.
She watched the scenery as best she could from her vantage point. The miles ticked by.
“This is kidnapping,” she said finally, breaking the silent treatment.
“I've been accused of worse.”
“I don't doubt it,” she said hotly. He glanced at her in the mirror, as if questioning her sanity. She rolled her eyes and rested her check against the soft leather of the back seat. It smelled of leather and wet dog. Figured.
After what seemed like hours, she struggled into a sitting position. At least, she was halfway sitting. The ropes were cutting into her skin, and she'd long lost feeling to her fingers. She craved the freedom to move. Craved circulation. Sebastian had been very careful as he'd tied her, even though she hadn't made it easy on him.
Why he'd bother to tie her at all, she didn't know. Did he think she was going to jump out of a moving car? And why was he taking her with him? She didn't want to be in some shack when Hurricane Camilla roared ashore. The man was crazy. Certifiable.
He was also like a drug. As much as she tried to resist, she'd never been able to get enough. The only thing that had worked had been moving half a country away.
She stared at his strong jaw and had the strongest urge to run her fingertips over the shadow of stubble there.
“You can let me go, you know.”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Because you'll run.”
“We're back to that?” She sighed and glanced out the window. Dark clouds hung low in the sky and rain pelted them. The windshield wipers were working overtime as they sped south.
“I'm just basing my decision on history.”
“I didn't have any other choice. You wouldn't understand.”
“Try me, chérie.”
Did he have to use that sweet accent of his? Or call her chérie? Surely, he knew his endearments, as natural as they were, made her heart flutter a bit.
It shouldn't flutter at all. She should be mad as heck. A few days ago, she'd had the hottest job in New York city, a closet full of great shoes that she could barely afford, and a life without Sebastian. Without his brooding good looks, she'd had her heart firmly in her chest. There'd been no chance of him ripping it from her and stomping on it.
Now she was tied in the backseat of his car. With no shoes and only a scrap of her dignity. So why wasn't she spitting mad?
Something was definitely wrong. Maybe she'd hit her head when she'd fallen off his porch. Maybe he'd enchanted her. Did werewolves have magical powers like that? She'd heard rumors...
“What are you thinking about in that beautiful head of yours?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
She had to stay strong. Use what little bit of strength and anger she had left. Being this close to him put her in serious danger of falling for his temptation. Falling under his spell. It was lust. She had to remember that. That's all he was offering.
“That's not true. Your pulse leapt the tiniest little bit when I called you beautiful. You can't deny it, Manda. Any more than you can deny your desire for me.”
She huffed. Of course she desired him. She'd have to be blind not to. It ticked her off that she was so easy to read. So obvious in her attraction.
“You're full of it,” she scoffed.
“You deny it?”
Before she could answer, he pulled the car to a stop on the shoulder. The sudden movement tossed her forward. The second they stopped, he was out of his seat and opening the back door. Her heart thundered in her chest. He had a dangerous look in his eyes. Water droplets pelted his shirt, clung to his hair.
Somehow, he folded himself into the backseat and then pulled her into his lap.
“What're you doing?” A shiver raced up her spine. He was too close. Much too close. He would surely read all the secrets in her eyes.
She looked away.
“Look at me, chérie.”
She shook her head.
Patiently, he cupped her cheek in his hand. Dear God, she wanted to rub against it, wanted to feel his hands in her hair, his fingers against her lips, her skin, her breasts. This was madness. She’d come down here for a funeral, for goodness sakes. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Reluctantly she met his eyes.
“That's better.” He stared at her as if searching for something. “Now tell me you don't desire me.”
Looking at him made her stomach do little cartwheels. She was so tired of denying the truth. Denying her desire for him. She was tired of protecting herself all the time, of trying too damn hard not to be her mother.
She shook her head again, unable to say the words aloud, but couldn't help leaning into him. His hand stroked her side through the thick material of his robe and she yearned to remove the fabric. To be naked in his arms. To feel his skin against hers.
“That's right. You can't say it. It's not true. You've always wanted me, mon amour. Just as I've always wanted you.”
Her eyes swerved up. He knew she'd had a crush on him? He'd always wanted her? What about what he'd said to Jules?
She started to speak but the words came out in a jumbled heap. The chill bumps came back full force and she shivered beneath the thick robe.
“Shh...” His gaze flicked to her lips and she licked them quickly. Hoping, praying he'd kiss her. Their breath mingled. God, how she'd dreamed of this. Of being this close.
“We need to get back on the road. Don't wanna get stuck out here with the storm a comin’.”
He kissed her forehead and lifted her from his lap. That was it? That was all?
He came back here and told her how much he wanted her? And didn't even steal a kiss?
“Men,” she mumbled.
He got out of the back seat, slammed the door and then opened his to get back in the driver’s seat.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him to get back here and put her out of a dozen years of lust-filled misery.
Sebastian pressed his foot down hard on the pedal, hoping the tires wouldn't slip on the water. His resolve was in jeopardy. He'd simply meant to prove to her that she couldn't lie to him, show her that he knew her as well as she knew herself. He could see in her eyes how much she wanted him.
Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to bring her down here to the middle of nowhere. If he'd stayed at his estate, he could already be inside her sweet body.
Damn. Damn. Double damn.
His cock was rock hard. They'd be at the cabin soon. He had to get control of himself. He'd already put in a call to Judge Rothburn, who’d be meeting them there soon.
Manda grumbled to herself. He couldn't quite make out what she said, but a look in the mirror told him she was fuming.
“What's got yer feathers ruffled, chérie?”
“You! You, Sebastian. Always playing God. You've kidnapped me. Tied my hands and feet. As if I'm going somewhere.”
“You're still denying that you ran away from me nine years ago?”
“I ran away from everything,” she cried. Surprised at her outburst, he looked back at her again. Even in the murky light, he could see pink staining her cheeks. “From you. From here. These people.”
“Why, Manda?”
“I didn't want to end up like my mom.”
What?
He saw his turn coming up and gently pressed the break. Just another minute. Then they were getting to the bottom of this.
Spotting the cabin on the left, he flipped the blinker and pulled into the driveway.
“You call this a cabin?” Manda asked, her gaze fixed on the wide wooden structure.
“A fishing cabin, oui. My brothers, cousins and I each have a key.” A button on the dash opened the garage door. When they were safely inside, he turned the car off and then glanced over his shoulder at her.
She stared at him wide eyed, then shook her head.
“Now tell me, cher, how did your mother end up?”
“Please. As if you don't know. She was the laughing stock of Louisiana.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. Her mother had always been warm and friendly. Even when he and his brothers kept snooping around her daughter. His own mother had never been warm or friendly toward him.
“How so?”
She let out a frustrated sigh, as if explaining was either painful or beneath her. “Are you going to untie me?”
He draped his arm over the back of the passenger's seat and regarded her slowly. She writhed beneath his gaze just as he wanted her to. He wanted her on edge, white hot with lust. Because he intended to have her very, very soon. For a very, very, very long time.
“Not until you tell me what I want to know.”
“You're insufferable.”
“Why didn't you want to be like your mom? She was nice. Caring.”
“She loved a man who never loved her back.”
He looked in her eyes and could see her pain.
“What do you mean, cher?” He didn’t understand. His parents had never been in love but that didn't stop him from wanting it. Wanting her.
“My dad never loved my mother. He had relationships behind her back constantly. I think she died of a broken heart, not heart disease.”
So that's why she'd only come back when her father died. As far as he knew, they hadn’t seen each other in the nine years she’d been gone. And now that her dad was dead, well, she didn't seem entirely upset about it.
Damn, he wished he'd known. He would have been there for her. Puzzle pieces started to fall into place. So that's why she'd run. She'd thought her feelings, her desires, were one sided.
He didn't see how. He'd always craved her. Women never made sense to him. Especially human women. They expected men to read their minds. Afraid to say what they wanted, take what they wanted.
She brushed the hair from her eyes and he caught sight of her bound wrists.
“Hold that thought.” He got out of the car and went to turn on the overhead light. While the garage door was rumbling closed, he opened her door.
“Promise not to run?” he asked.
“Never,” she said but her words lacked conviction. She wiggled toward the edge of the seat.
The bathrobe gaped, showing off her creamy skin. Just a little farther and he'd be able to see her breasts. Veuillez Dieu. She caught him looking at her and frowned up at him. She was terribly cute with her pouty lips and crinkled forehead. Her long hair was disheveled around her face, almost dry.
“Let me help you,” he whispered and gathered her in his arms. She didn't make a sound, merely held herself rigid.
As he carried her into the house, brilliant blue lightning lit the sky. Silently he counted the seconds until he heard the first crack of thunder.
“Storm's movin' fast. I'd better get started,” he murmured against her cheek, reluctant to let her go. He felt and heard her sharp intake of breath. So, she wasn't as unmoved as she wanted him to think.
That made it even harder to put her down, to step away from her, when all he wanted to do was strip her down and touch her everywhere. Kiss and lick until he’d explored every inch of her body.
He left her standing in front of the leather sofa in the living room and went to find the candles and flashlights. He deposited those on the coffee table in front of her and then went to bring the patio furniture in off the deck. Her gaze followed him the whole time.
He could feel the tension growing. Her impatience. Her resistance. Her anger seemed to boil just below the surface.
But he could smell her desire. He knew that once he dipped into her he wouldn't be able to stay afloat.
“You can have a seat, you know,” he told her as he passed by with the last of the chairs.
“I have to pee,” she said between gritted teeth.
“Well, then... We do have a bathroom here. We're not totally primitive.” He let the last word hang in the air.
Her eyebrows shot skyward.
“It's through that door over there.” He pointed.
“And how am I going to get there? Hop like a rabbit?”
Her sassy response made him smile. Damn, he’d missed her. André was right. He was a fool. Sometimes he was stuck in his own world and needed a good smack upside the head.
“You do remind me of a bunny...” he mused, stalking closer.
Her blue eyes flashed up at him with a silent message. One that said as soon as she got free she was going to make him pay.
“But I don't mind carrying you.” He couldn't stop his gaze from roaming over the creamy flesh, starkly pale against the midnight black of his robe. She had no idea just how he wanted to gobble her up, nibble every delicate spot from her ears to her toes.
“If you'd just untie me—”
“Non. You will run. Then I'll chase. And I'll bring you back. You'll just wear yourself out, petite.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to keep me here?”
“I should think it obvious,” he whispered in her ear. He rubbed his cheek against hers and then lifted her into his arms. He strode across the room to the knotty pine door, and nudged it open with his foot. He let her down gently and smiled at her frown.
When he started to leave, she called after him frantically.
“Oui, mon amour?”
“Untie me. Now!”
“Sorry. No can do. Here. I'll help though, yes?” He cocked an eyebrow and gathered the robe in his hands. How he loved to tease her. How he wanted to please her, pleasure her in every way he could think of. But she had to learn how to trust him first.
Manda's eyebrows shot up and she grabbed onto his arm with her hands, bound at the wrists.
“Don't look,” she ordered.
“Why not, chérie? You have nothing I have not seen.”
“You've never seen me naked,” she whispered fiercely.
He chuckled. That was a problem he intended to remedy very shortly. “I'll turn my head,” he told her sweetly.
The tiny bit of gentleman left in him said to simply untie her. But the darker side of him took perverse pleasure in her slow submission. His hard won acceptance.
With her hands and feet bound, she flopped down on the toilet.
“I can't believe this,” she grumbled.
“You must learn that I'll take care of you chérie.”
“Why?”
“A husband always takes care of his wife.”
Chapter Five
Sebastian left her sitting there wide-eyed. He figured she'd call him to help her up, but she didn't say a word for endless minutes. She was either confused as hell or hoppin’ mad. He wasn't sure which. As he lowered the storm shutters, he figured he'd find out soon.
Finally, she called his name followed by “untie me you brute. I have to wipe.” He could see her grinding her jaws together and her eyes glistening. For a brief second, he feared he'd pushed her too far. He conceded and untied her wrists then stepped from the room and crossed his arms over his chest. Patience wasn’t his strong suit.
“What did you mean by 'a husband always takes care of his wife?'” she called a minute later as the toilet flushed.
“Just what I said.”
“We aren't married.”
At her heated retort, he opened the door and pulled her against him. “But we will be.”
“Says who?”
“Says me. Judge Rothburn will be here in a few minutes.”
“A few minutes!” She sounded panicked. “He can't see me like this. Sebastian, untie me this minute!” Her old accent was starting to come out.
A knock on the front door drew their attention.
“Too late,” he murmured and untied her feet. He hauled her against his side and opened the door. The graying judge stood on the porch, an umbrella at his side. Sebastian’s cousins, Burke and Laurent, stood behind.
“Judge Rothburn, thanks for coming so quick. Please come in.” Sebastian stepped aside to let them inside. “Burke, Laurent.” He nodded in greeting as they stepped past him.
He felt Manda's gaze on him, but she said nothing. Did nothing more than take slow, deep breaths. Then he felt her muscles tense as she leaned ever so slightly for the door. He closed it none too gently, flipping the locks. He buried his face against her neck and whispered against her skin, “Don't even think about it, chérie.”
“Too late,” she whispered back, mocking him.
“Don't forget, petite, that I have excellent night vision. If you run, I will hunt you down.”
“You didn't before,” Amanda tossed back, but inside she was on fire. The image of herself fleeing into the darkness with him hot on her heels was a dream she'd had hundreds of times.
It always ended the same way...
Eventually he would catch her, his hands biting into her flesh as he hauled her against him. She was too tired to put up a fight. In fact, she almost sagged with relief. His body was big and strong and warm. The warmth she craved.
He turned her toward him roughly, tearing off her clothes with desperate hands. His eyes glowed a beautiful silver. He made no effort to hide his erection, made no move to release it.
Instead, he reached for her, running his hands over every inch that he could reach. Her skin was taunt with goose bumps and his touch slowly warmed her, made her wet with desire.