Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (16 page)

* * * *

Grant looked down at the earnest expression in his mate’s eyes. He’d known Amazons were more than women warriors, but he hadn’t realized how much more they were.

“Do all Amazons have your abilities?” Somehow he doubted it.

She shook her head. “We all have different skills. I can…read places where people have been and where they’ve gone. It’s made me one of the best trackers in my tribe.” She said it simply, proudly.

“What about the spell? How do you know someone put one on you?”

That pissed him off. A lot. He hated seeing her scared and vulnerable. Yeah, it was nice to be the one she clung to, but he hated that she had to do it in the first place. This was a woman who was born to stand on her own. But with a mate at her side, he amended.

“It’s hard to explain,” she began hesitantly. He set his expression. She sighed. “C’mon, we’ll talk on the way back.”

Grant stared hard at her until he was satisfied that she wouldn’t try to wiggle out of telling him more about herself. With a short nod, he indicated that they should go on.

She rolled her gorgeous brown eyes at him. The little smart-ass. “Thank you so much,” she muttered, glaring at him before turning her attention back to the path ahead of them.

Grant’s lips curled as soon as she looked away. Gods, he could love this woman. He almost broke stride the thought was so sudden and unexpected. He’d only known her maybe forty hours and he was on the verge of falling for her. His heart pounded like a tympani. He hadn’t expected to become emotionally attached so soon.

“…Amazon secrets to a minotaur.” She shook her head. “Queen Albreda is gonna kick my ass all over the bayou for this.” She threw her shoulders back and tilted her skin at the sky in defiance. “Okay, fine.” She took a deep breath and looked at him out the corner of her eye.

Grant’s breath caught in anticipation. She was finally going to open up to him. Give him some real information as to who Isola Malone was.

“I see dead people.”

He paused, a frown pulling at his mouth. Why did that sound familiar? And what did dead people have to do with spells? Isola watched him, that devil-may-care sparkle in her dark eyes. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to encourage her. She was impossible!

“Run,” he growled, his body tightening in anticipation of the chase.

For a second, she looked confused and Grant reveled in the knowledge that he’d thrown her for a loop. She stared at him with the adorably blank expression he was getting used to before it dawned on her that he was going to run her down like prey. Challenge burst into life, filling her eyes with heat and her cheeks with color.

Then she was gone.

Grant threw his head back, letting the anticipation grow. Minotaurs were warriors who’d fought in epic battles since the beginning of time, and he was no different. He’d show Isola just what she’d unleashed.

With a bellowing roar, he shifted to his minotaur form and let the power course through him. His acute hearing picked up the rapid thump of her heart as she slipped through the trees as silent as a ghost. He’d catch her. They both knew it. It was just a matter of when.

* * * *

Izzy bit back a squeal of laughter as she heard Grant crashing through the woods after her. She never would have guessed playing hide-and-seek with a male could be so much fun. She had to give the minotaur credit, he knew how to play.

They’d been at it for at least an hour, playing in the woods. She wasn’t even sure if she was letting him close, or if he was better at tracking than she’d originally thought. Whatever the case, there had been several close calls where she’d had to rely on her ability to remain motionless to avoid being caught.

Hunkering down in the hollow of a tree, Izzy held her breath. She was cold, sore, and felt full of…fuck, was it happiness? Momentarily stunned to realize she
was
happy, she was slow to realize he had her cornered.

She bit her lip, staring at the hoofs and bulging lower half of his minotaur form. She hadn’t seen it at the bar. She hadn’t wanted to see it because she instinctively knew that this form, more than any other, would appeal to her wild streak. Looking at the black coat stretched taut over the thick muscles of his legs, Izzy knew she was in trouble.

Something thumped against the trunk of the tree she was hiding in and it shook around her. Primitive memory kept her from making a sound, though the blood pounded through her body. Either Grant’s horned head or his strong arms slammed into the tree again. She heard wood creak as small flakes drifted onto her head.

A sneeze threatened, but she held it back. Gods, she wanted to run screaming out of her hiding place, wanted Grant to chase her. What the fuck was wrong with her? She was an Amazon. She did the chasing, not the other way around! But no matter how much she fought it, her body wanted to be dominated, wanted to be hunted down like a beast and taken. She shivered at the thought. Oh hells, no. Hells no!

“Isola,” he growled in a voice that was deep and rough like gravel. “Come out and take your punishment.”

Punishment? Who was he kidding? In answer, she huddled into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and lowered her head. Yeah, it was a cowardly move, but for once, she was choosing intelligence over spontaneity. It wasn’t hard to decide either. She wasn’t big into punishment. She shuddered.

“Isola.”

Had his voice always been so demanding? Had it always sent little flutters of arousal through her body? He growled and she knew he could smell her desire for him. She squeezed her eyes closed.

The tree shook again, this time wood splintering beneath the punishing blows it took. Izzy hunkered down and waited for something to fall on her head.

She didn’t know how much time passed, only that daylight seemed to creep up on her. Risking a peek through squinted eyes, she saw that the tree trunk was strewn around her, yet not a single branch or chunk had touched her. The hollow she’d taken refuge in was still standing, though it was now open at the top.

Fresh, cold air whistled through the opening and straight down her spine. Shivering, she peered around for Grant. And saw him standing right behind her. He’d shifted back to his human form, his very naked, very aroused human form.

She sprang to her feet, but the hollow wasn’t quite big enough for her hips. She was fucking stuck with a crazy-ass minotaur who wanted to paddle her tender backside! Screeching in frustration, she pushed and pushed against the wood, trying to free herself.

She heard him chuckle, the sound trailing up and down her nape like a tongue and setting off tiny fireworks in her body. His big arms came around her, hugging her close to his hot skin. It was both comforting because it was warm, and frightening because his cock pressed against the small of her back.

“Oh, Isola, were you scared of me?” He sounded amused and just the tiniest bit hurt. He kissed the side of her neck. “I’d never hurt you, babe. You should know that.”

It took several attempts before she could find enough spit in her mouth to speak, but when she did, her voice came out as a croak. “I’m not scared of anyone.”

He hummed against her neck, his teeth nibbling on her skin. “That’s right. You’re very brave, sweetheart.” Kiss. “And sexy.” Suckling kiss. “And very, very naughty.” Bite.

Izzy’s head lolled to the side and her body went limp as sizzling power swept through her body. It started at the spot where Grant’s teeth were embedded in her skin and pulsed outward until it settled in her womb. She was moaning incessantly, her body going from fearful to fully aroused in seconds.

When his hands moved to cup her breasts, Izzy arched her back as much as she could. She wanted to feel his hands on every inch of her skin.

“Isola,” he moaned into her tender neck, his hot breath washing over her. “I want you.”

Alarm bells, somewhere in the sensible part of her mind, went off. He wanted her because he thought she was his fucking mate.
Mating equals bad, Isola Marsha Malone, remember?

“No,” she mumbled through passion-swollen lips. She wanted to sink into the sinful decadence of Grant’s embrace.

His thumbs swept over her nipples as his hands massaged the full globes. Izzy gasped, her back arched so sharply, she felt pain in her hips. Why were her hips hurting? She glanced down, past the awe-inspiring sight of her tits cupped in Grant’s big hands, down to the tree trunk she wore like a skirt. Right. She’d been what? Hiding? Hiding. Yes. His thumbs and forefingers pinched her nipples, erasing all thought.

Oh gods, she was going to die if she didn’t have him!

“Mine,” he rasped, his voice a claiming and a warning all in one.

Her eyes shot open as reality crashed over her. Grant was going to fuck her because he thought she was his mate. He’d want her to give him baby cows and shit. He’d want to take over her life, remove all trace of Izzy the Warrior and make her into Isola the Homemaker. Never!

Snarling as she realized how close she’d come to giving into him, Izzy slammed her elbow back catching Grant unaware. He grunted loudly, his mouth releasing her neck and his hands falling away from her chest. Her nipples mourned the loss, but Izzy had more important things on her mind, like getting away before he made her forget herself. Again. She heard a thump as he fell to the ground.

She kicked out with all of her strength. A century of training and honing her body into a well-oiled fighting machine paid off because she splintered part of the trunk, just enough for her to wiggle her hips free. Without even turning to look at Grant, she sprinted for the truck. She wasn’t about to become any man’s mate. Hopefully by the time he caught up with her, he’d have control of himself because she wasn’t sure she could go through another lesson in seduction at his hands.

* * * *

Grant rubbed his chest. The impromptu snow bath had killed his amorous mood. His cock lay on his thigh, a defeated and frustrated organ. So she wasn’t ready for a mating. That was fine. He could handle that as long as she didn’t break any of his bones.

Sitting up, he looked down at his chest and saw an Isola-elbow-sized bruise on his solar plexus. Yeah, she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about being his mate. If anything, she was freaked out about it. But she’d get over it. For a short time, she’d been like putty in his hands.

He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet. All it would take was finding the right short time and making it into something more. But for now, he’d give her a little break from his attention. In the meantime, he’d learn as much as he could about the Amazon who would become his mate. Eventually.

Chapter Sixteen

The ride back to Grant’s house was silent yet filled with tension and angry words. At least on Izzy’s part. Again with the idiocy? Really? She wasn’t going to let herself get dragged into a relationship. No way in hells. She shuddered. How many women had she seen fall into that trap and lose their identity? Too fucking many, including her mother.

Her lip pulled back in a snarl as she thought of Trianna. The fool Amazon had taken a bear as a mate. A fucking bear! She’d let that bastard control every part of her life and nearly cost Izzy her own life because she wouldn’t fall in with what her stepfather planned.

“Did you just say ‘fucking bears?’” Grant asked in a hesitant voice.

Izzy glared over at him. He was just so damned cute she wanted to kill him and spare herself the pain of heartbreak. Oh yeah, Grant was her kryptonite; she sensed it. He would ruin her for any other man, not that she had a lot of faith that she’d find one worth having anyway. No, it was best to keep their time together strictly business. She could do it. She knew she could.

All she needed to do was refrain from talking to him because every time she opened her mouth, she ended up challenging him, and Grant was a male who loved a challenge. The bastard.

“What’s with the hostility to bears anyway?” He was like a dog with a bone.