Eden's Charms (8 page)

“Cherié, why the truth serum if you can detect lies?”

“Because he will lie ’til the cows come home to protect his master.” Jovan kissed André on the corner of his lip.

“Here we go again.” Savanah knew it. “One kiss leads to another, and I’ll be waiting all evening to get to the stables.” Savanah pried her mother from her father. “Come on, Mum. I want to see who we’ve locked up since no one’s talking.”

****

Ethan shifted halfway down the path to the stables thinking he could outsmart, out run, overpower this man. Not happening. Simply put, Ethan had been outdone on all levels. The mold for werewolves was cast from Julian.

From Ethan’s vantage this scenario continued to spiral downhill. Getting dragged by the scruff of his neck to the tack room was the icing on the cake or so he thought until Julian secured him to an old wooden beam with a silver chain, and wrangled a loose muzzle on him. Panic escalated to level orange when Julian dug up as many syringes as he could muster then spread them out on a tattered, dusty horse-hair blanket. Nothing aseptic in these urine soaked walls.

“No freaking way you’re poking me with those things.”

“Good to know the wolf has evolved to communication in both life forms.”

Julian winked, but it wasn’t a warm, mischievous blink like the ones Ethan doled out. Ethan realized there and then Julian was probably more of a cold-blooded beast than the Maestro.

Both Jovan and Savanah sneezed in unison when they entered the musty barn. “Here’s the mixture. Who’s it for?” Savanah dabbed her nose with a tissue, searching. “Oh my, I don’t miss this place.”

Recognition of one angelic voice had Ethan crank his large head in the direction of freedom, the sliding stable door.

Taken aback seeing Ethan, she approached him with caution. “We meet again. No mistaking those green eyes. You got all dolled up for me? Nice coat! I must say you have a definite angle at getting to know people.”

“Yeah, you’ll never forget this, will you?” Ethan sat on his haunches and bat his puppy eyes at her.

“I don’t think I’ll let you forget it either.” She smirked.

“Savanah! I know your name!”

“Well, Ethan, I’m not Rapunzel. And I sure as hell won’t let my hair down for you.”

Ethan’s nose twitched as he watched Savanah hand her father a glass flask with a bluish concoction gurgling without the need for flames. Steam rose, and sweetened the air with a mixture of juniper, peppermint oil, rue, violets and raspberries.

Savanah passed another flask under Ethan’s nose to which he grimaced. The second flask contained a burnt amber gel. “And yes, it is what you’re thinking. It is my very own sweet and sour sauce.” She didn’t need to read his mind. The look on his face said everything. She ran her fingertips across his blond fur, then rubbed behind his ears.

“Lower, sweets—the itch is much lower,” Ethan countered.

Savanah picked up a horsewhip, and cracked it. “Still itch?”

“Woman, I love the way you think.” Ethan growled at her through the muzzle.

Picking up one the syringes her uncle had laid out, she aimed it at his back leg, daring him, without words.

In his sternest tone, André shouted, “Savanah!” She jumped and the syringe went sailing like a dart just missing Ethan.

“That was close.” Savanah bent over and got in his face. “Next time I won’t miss.”

“Ha ha ha!” Ethan added sarcasm laced.

“What have I told you about becoming infatuated with creatures we have to put down?”

“Papa!” Her free hand atop her hip, she huffed a giant curl from her view. “Why can’t I keep him? You always kill off the cute ones.
Always
!” Savanah turned away from Ethan wearing a smile her orthodontist would have appreciated. “I never freakin’ get to have any fun.”

Although teasing him wasn’t a bad way to spend the night, for a brief moment Savanah’s fantasies stole her and the wolf far away from her family where it would be just the two of them, her as Red Riding Hood and Ethan, the big bad wolf chasing her, catching her, and devouring her in a completely sensual, erotic frenzy—tongue, teeth, fingers, penis…The whole nine yards—ah…make that inches and yes, it was bigger than her pinky!

Happy dance time was moments away.

She wanted to make love to him, show him feelings she had no words for, only deep seeded desires. She wanted him to leave her breathless, exhausted under him. She needed his warm flesh against hers hard and fast. Savanah looked at Ethan and for a minute panicked he’d been able to read her mind. She broke out in a cool mist.
Crap, I inhaled my own freaking concoction.

Ethan stared at Savanah, tongue flopped over the side of his mouth, with lethal picturesque choppers showing through.

“You’re drooling, Mr. Kitt.” Savanah pointed to his lips. “Quite the set of dents you’ve got there.” The second the words rolled from her lips, she knew somehow he’d take full advantage of the opportunity.

“All the better to eat you with, my dear.” His tail wagged in the dirt leaving him in a smutty cloud.

Rancor saturated Jovan’s voice. “Why is that thing still breathing?”

Smothered by her mother’s tenor, Savanah’s saucy dream ended up watered down. Her mother was piping hot.

André answered, “We were waiting for you, Cherié.”

“Hold up a second.” Ethan barked. “Are you really going to kill me?”

Everyone answered a collective, “Yes.”

“If I talk?”

“Yes.” Jovan hissed.

“Probably.” Julian weighed his hands like a balanced scale.

“If I give you names and places?”

“We’ll see.” André.

“What do you want?”

You, once you lose the mangy fur.
Savanah eyed Ethan as if he were a one hundred-eighty pound chunk of eye-candy made to order just for her.
Oh! I’m in trouble
.

Yes, you are!
Ethan’s gaze began with her feet and worked his way very slowly up every delicious, lip-smacking inch of her body, as he took in everything the woman had to offer him. When his eyes rested on hers he smiled, still in the form of a wolf, but he smiled all teeth and tongue.
Yeah baby, I’m the big bad wolf, all right.
And I am going to eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dessert, however, is on me.

Savanah’s eyes went wide. She stumbled and covered her ears. Ethan did a double take hoping it was coincidence and that the woman couldn’t read his thoughts even as he read hers without conscientiously realizing it.

“The truth, Ethan.”

Julian’s stern voice nearly gave Ethan whiplash as he spun his head toward the man. “The man that sent me after the baby is Xier, or the Maestro known by others. His son said some unstable chic, Raven, had his grandson two days ago, and he wants it. Xanti Sinclair claims he and his brother Xavier had a child.” With the mention of that name Ethan watched this family unravel. Purposefully, he said, “
S-i-n-c-l-a-i-r
,” again, slowly, spelling it just to see if the same reaction happened.

Jovan choked. André held his arm up on one of the stables doors to steady himself and Julian, Mr. Rock of Gibraltar, landed squarely on his righteous rump.

Savanah ran to her mother’s side. “Uncle Lucian beheaded that bastard. There was no way the guy had a kid. One century ago the science and technology wasn’t born.”

“Seems I’ve hit a nerve or two.” Ethan bucked up.

Getting back on his feet, Julian asked, “What makes Xanti think Raven had a baby?”

“I’m just the messenger. I don’t even know what she looks like. Xanti told me to look for Sleeping Beauty. Lot of help there.”

“Then turn around and feast your eyes, Mister.” Raven strut into the stables wearing dark sunglasses, skintight leather pants showing off long lean legs and three-inch heeled black boots. Her hair was done in a French braid. She avoided all the eyes except Ethan’s. One glance at him, her jaw dropped. Raven faced Jovan, pushed her glasses atop of her head, her eyes wide.
Jovan the painting—werewolf or not, there was no mistaking the face behind the fur.

About to say something, Jovan opted for a silencing finger to her lips and whispered, “Not now, Ray.”

Having that nasty sensation of eyes burning a hole in him, Ethan glanced between Raven and Jovan. “Why does everyone always get that B-rated Zombie look each time one of you sees me?”

“Because you’re a walking dead man.” Raven ran her fingers down the front side of her body. “As you can see I’ve no baby. So you work for the Sinclair’s? Who in Hell did you piss off to get that job?” Raven’s voice couldn’t have held more sarcasm if
she
were made of spandex.

“Well I’m not surprised I was given the wrong info yet again. I apologize. So—if you’ll all just untie me and get this tarnished silver off me, I’ll be moving on. No harm done. Seriously, do I look like I have an idea what to do with a baby?” Ethan scoured the room, waiting, hoping to find an ally in any one of them. Not even his tall, dark beauty budged. The look she gave him reminded him of a lover scorned. Yeah, he’d seen it more than once. Just tonight as a matter of fact, from that buoyant little trickster.

Behind Savanah, a cyclone of black dust caught Ethan’s eye as it gelled into a figure. The air pressure seemed to expand then shrink. His ears popped. Woodchips and sawdust filled the air. All the horses became restless; grunting and shuffling in their stalls. Out of the dust storm, a tall man with a deep olive completion and bristle-short, black hair emerged.

Ethan sat back on his haunches.
I knew I shouldn’t have asked if this night could get any crazier!
Ethan held a paw to Savanah. “You might want to turn around.”

The stranger brushed past Savanah to Ethan, and dug his long thin fingers into his fur. “Ethan, dude, you’ve looked better. I knew you were into bondage, but this is different even for you. I didn’t know you were into putting on shows for crowds.”

Ethan noticed Savanah’s posture stiffen and if looks could kill, he thought he really might die tonight.
Little possessive there, Pippy?

Savanah’s snow-white complexion went green as a little thing called jealousy chewed through her epithelial cells. She didn’t like the idea of Ethan being bonded with anyone, man or woman if it wasn’t her. Visions of him handcuffed in silk restraints and being used as a sex toy bombarded her brain. Sometimes her imagination was her worst enemy. She couldn’t help the hurtful look she shot him. And to add insult to injury her conscience began giving her grief. Part of her wanted the lying, would-be kidnapper with ties to the one family they never wanted to see again gone. But her hormone’s conscience?
Is there such a thing?
She wondered. Each and every little wanton cell wanted the blond wolf/man to stimulate them. Just thinking of Ethan left a burning, licentious, desire scorching a path directly between her thighs. She attempted to reason with herself the damned man came here to kidnap a child her aunt supposedly birthed. What if Raven had the baby and he’d succeeded? Confusion reigned control between her head and her heart. Every instinct said this man would be the end to one-hundred-thirteen year drought, also known as her loveless life.
God, I know how to pick them.

“Pip, you all right? You’re looking a bit off color.” Ethan asked his voice calm and soothing, sincere.

Oh, I wish he’d stop calling me that
. Savanah crossed her arms, confused.
Could he be genuine with his interest? Or is this just a new angle?

Ethan glanced upward. “Sorry, Pip, but the name suits you. Really, you okay?”

An epiphany hit them. Both gasped in unison as they locked eyes, realizing privacy just became a thing of the past. Savanah’s hand flew to her mouth but, “Oh shit,” flew out regardless.

“Mouth, Savanah,” André warned.

“Sorry, Papa.” Her eyebrows pinched at Ethan she answered, “I’ll be fine, thanks. Anyone remember that Mel Gibson flick where he wore tin foil around his head to block people’s thoughts? I need some. Now!”

“Oh Jesus!” Jovan mumbled.

Ethan howled with laughter. “I was thinking the—”

“I know. This can’t be—”

“But it is, Pip. Deal with it. Vonnie? Were you the other passenger on my flight? I never did check the second box I brought over.”

“No, Eth. Been in town a while on business,” the man answered, stalking Raven with his eyes.

“Donovan?” Raven barely got his name out. She turned to see if Jonah and Payton were near.

André rubbed his eyes. “Donovan, as in the old guard at our estate in England last century? We haven’t heard hide nor hair of you in a lifetime, literally.”

“Hello, Ray, André,” Donovan bowed before André showing an old respect for the man that came within minutes from being crowned King. “Jules, Jovan.” Donovan waved. “You two look the same. Savanah? Is that you? Wow! You grew up. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Savanah fought a scowl. Every bone in her body screamed foul play. All that was missing was the spooky music that usually played when the nemesis entered a movie scene. Her family had all their negativities focused on the wrong guy. Ethan couldn’t hurt a fly. This new guy looked like he sprinkled them on his morning cereal and ate them in place of granola.

“Hey—hold up. How come he can say you’re beautiful but if I say she is,” Ethan asked pointing a paw toward Savanah, “I get grief.”

“Because we like him.” Jovan bit back. “And stay the hell away from my daughter.”

Ethan glanced back toward Savanah.
Not on your life.

Savanah fanned her cheeks.

Chapter Four

“Always the charmer, Eth.” Donovan turned to face the crowd. “You’re a tough lot to track down. Your sister-in-law’s birthing experience made national news. Raven, I felt a biting need to see you again. That little run in we had over the Christmas season wasn’t enough to hold me over for another hundred years.”

Donovan laughed, but it lacked that warm friendly sonance. Savanah found nothing attractive about it or the man. Matter of fact, her sixth sense was trying to get the other five to listen. Without thinking twice she moved closer to Ethan.

Raven mumbled, “This is awkward.”

“Actually, Belle, I’d like to know why you never mentioned seeing him.” Jonah didn’t sound the least bit friendly as he, Payton and Molly entered the stables.