Hunting Her (The Keeping Her #6) (11 page)

He could
relate. As soon as he was fully seated, he stopped, wrapping himself around her
as she wrapped herself around him, and just wallowed in the moment and his
mate.  He would be forced to move eventually.  He could already feel the heat
building, the need for more; but for this moment, he met the eyes of his mate,
breathed in her scent, and just felt that first moment of connection.

She was
breathing as hard as he was.  Her eyes the same molten gold of her beast, and
he could see it there, the same feeling of coming home, and the need to revel
in the connection between them.  She was so fucking perfect for him.

They
didn't speak.  Each in their own way, they needed this moment.  So they took
it.  And when they couldn't hold off anymore, Logan started to move and Xena
followed, gasping out her soft breath against his lips.

Keeping
their eyes locked, he started slow, Logan working himself along her channel while
she rocked in counterpoint to his thrusts.  The heat, the friction, building
slowly as they clung to each other, skin to skin, and eye to eye.  When he saw
in her eyes that she was close, he moved.  Running his lips over her neck and
kissing her where her neck met her shoulder.  He waited one more thrust to feel
her gasp against his cheek, and then he bit down, hard, so that the blood
flowed, so that the bite would scar, marking her as his forever.  Xena screamed
her release and he snarled, wanting it to last, but knowing even as he thought
it, that he was coming.  Thrusting hard, pounding her into the mattress, he
claimed her in another way.

He felt
the mating click into place between them as the pleasure rolled over him.  He
was only dimly aware that Xena came again, screaming her own pleasure against
his neck.

His own
consumed him, and it was some time before he came to the realization that he
was boneless, and no doubt a heavy crush on his mate’s small body.  When he
went to roll away and allow her to breath, she surprised him by burrowing her
face further into his neck, and refusing to let him move.  He relaxed back into
the bed, and the deceptively fragile body of his mate.  If she wanted him
there, he was not about to fight her off.  There was no place he would rather
be.

Douglas
and Beatrice Bruce were funny.  Xena had not expected that when Logan described
the quality of the work they did in restoration.  All business and sticklers
were what Xena was expecting.  Not a jean and t-shirt duo of husband and wife
that seemed to think arguing was a form of foreplay.  .

"Really,
for a 106 year old farm house, it has been left intact remarkably well,"
the woman Beatrice said.  A small woman with a braid of fiery auburn hair down
her back and sharp blue eyes, she looked over the woodwork in the formal dining
room, or at least what would be the formal dining room again.

Chair
rails, peeling wallpaper, and scratched up and pitted wood floors.  Xena had to
wonder if the woman was seeing the same thing she was.

"Minor
water damage on this floor," the woman continued to speak, mostly to herself
Xena figured, since she did not seem to be waiting for a reaction. 
"That's to be expected in a home that was left vacant for as long as this
one has been."  Then she turned those sharp blue eyes on Xena.  "I
can send you some swatches and samples of paint colors and fabric choices, a
few wallpaper possibilities that are more modern but reflect this style."
She looked Xena up and down, not in an insulting way, more assessing. 
"Mr. McCord has not given an indication of how far he would like us to go
beyond the restoration.  But even if we are not also decorating the home, we
are finishing the walls, so no sense in you having to paint over white when we
can just as easily paint in the color you want to end up with.  And if we are
doing the design as well, Traditional farmhouse can go in many directions, and
mixing some modern with the traditional design will help with resale, if that
ever becomes an issue."

"I'm
not sure resale is a consideration in this case," Xena said thinking about
it.  "I get the feeling Logan wants to make a home to his own
specifications and not what some anonymous buyer would want."

"His
specifications and yours," Beatrice said with an amused spark in her
eyes.  "I get the feeling Mr. McCord would be fine with whatever we do to the
house, as long as you are in it when it’s finished.  So, what I'm asking is
what you would like in the finished product, and if you have an idea of colors
or theme, that I could send along for the two of you to choose or
approve."

Xena
raised a brow at the woman.  "It's Logan's house, not mine."

Now
Beatrice tilted her head and moved her full concentration from the wood panels,
to Xena.  She was silent for a moment, as if she was thinking of how much to
say, and then Xena watched her shrug and knew she was just going to say it and
damn the consequences. 

"I
know Mr. McCord bought this property more than two years ago," she started
mildly enough, though the information was a surprise to Xena.  "He called
us right away to see if we could recommend someone local to work on the
foundation until he was ready to deal with the rest.  He didn't want it falling
down before he was ready to get to it."  Beatrice shrugged again. 
"That was the last we heard of it, until he called a few months ago and
asked us if we would be available to do the work; again, when he was ready. 
After a while we just assumed he went with another contractor.  Mr. McCord does
not seem the type to put things like this off for any length of time." 

Xena had
to agree with that shrewd assessment.  Knowing how long he owned the property
and knowing it was not monetary concerns that held him back, she was also
surprised by the wait.  Beatrice Bruce was going on.  "Now here you are
with him, and he is suddenly, after two years, ready, and wants the work done
within the next three months."  She looked at Xena as if she had asked a
question, when they both knew she had made a point.

Seeing
the spark of curiosity in the woman's eyes Xena smirked.  "Could be he was
busy with other things until now."

"Maybe,"
Beatrice didn’t look like she believed that.  "I think he wanted a woman’s
hand in the design, his woman, and was waiting for that woman to be
present."

Xena
looked around the room and thought about what Beatrice was saying, and tried
not to panic when Beatrice spoke again.

"A
man doesn't buy a 6000 square foot house when he plans to live alone."

Xena
thought about the property and the house itself, and she thought about Logan,
running with him, eating with him, sleeping with him and had to admit the
thought of living here was not as scary as it should be.  Then she turned her
attention back to the other woman.  She had to concede that Beatrice could be
right, Logan could have been buying with the idea his future mate would live
here with him, but Xena also knew something Beatrice didn't.  Logan already had
a family, a pack of boisterous shifters who would love the wide-open wilds of
the country, and that would necessitate a big home.  She could not exactly
explain that to the human though.  "So you want to know what kind of
design I favor, so you can add it to Logan's ideas?"

Beatrice
snorted.  "Logan's ideas were along the lines of big and sturdy furniture
a man isn't afraid to break if he sits down on it."  She raised a brow at
Xena.  "I think you can safely add most any ideas of your own to that and
not have a conflict."

Xena
laughed.  "Since I like big comfortable furniture, I think we’re
good."  She thought about Lionsgate and then she thought about the home
where she grew up, and then the home she lived in once she shifted.  She knew
what she didn't want as well as what she did.  "Leather, some stone work,
natural woods and iron accents.  A lot of light, and no knickknacks or fake
fruit, balls, or crazy sculptures.  A farmhouse sink, a big island with a large
uninterrupted surface for baking.  Plenty of storage and the bathrooms should
be without theme and spa like.  Not so peculiar about colors, other than I want
some, but I know Logan likes horses, so some art like that would be nice. 
Please, no rope decor or anything that screams country for my sake."  When
she was done with the recitation Xena felt a flutter of what was either
excitement or panic in her belly.  Was she really decorating Logan's house so
she could live there with him?

Then she
took a deep breath.  "French doors wherever possible," she added when
she looked toward the kitchen; “and lots of windows." 
I guess I am
decorating Logan’s house like I plan to live here. Holy shit.

Beatrice
smiled at her.  "I can work with that."  She flicked her pen with her
thumb and looked at Xena expectantly.  "Do you have an e-mail I can send
some things to, for approval or ideas?"

Xena
gave it to her and then blew out a breath while the woman smiled at her.

"You
know, when I realized I was living with Douglas, I had a mini panic attack that
required ice cream and cheese puffs."

Xena
blinked.  "When you
realized
?"

Beatrice
shrugged.  "He sort of followed me home from a job and never left."

Xena
laughed, picturing the big, sturdy, very male, Douglas Bruce doing exactly
that.  A very alpha wolf way to stake a claim.  "Did that help?  The Ice
cream and cheese puffs?"

Beatrice
grinned slow and wicked.  "Not as much as the fantastic sex did, when he
got tired of my ranting and throwing puffs at him."

Xena
sputtered out another laugh.  Beatrice looked behind her and her eyes sparked
in appreciation.  "Have to say if I were you I would just start with
that."

Xena did
not have to turn to see that Logan and Douglas Bruce were closing in on them
from the kitchen door because she had heard them coming, but she did anyway
because the sight of the two hard-bodied men in denim should not be missed. 
And she had the thought, Beatrice was not wrong; though looking at the teasing
grin on Douglas Bruce's face, and the way he looked in a t-shirt, work boots
and jeans, she was not sure why Beatrice hadn’t started with that herself. 

The man
was smoking hot, even if he was a human, and he was looking at his wife like he
knew exactly what she looked like naked and was open to more of the sight. 
Seriously, the man was hot.  Even so, her own eyes were drawn unerringly to the
heated hazel of her mate, and his alpha walk.  If that man was any sexier he
would be on fire, or she would.

She also
knew, from the gleam in his eyes, that he had heard at least part of their
conversation.
 Smug bastard.  He wouldn’t look so pleased if I had Beatrice
do our bedroom in lace and pink toile.
 

"How's
the roof look?"  Beatrice asked her husband, drawing Xena's eyes from the
smirking Logan.

"Not
nearly as bad as I expected.  Which might explain why there is so little water
damage to the rest of the house.  Some newer animal damage which tells me the
house has not been empty as long as it looks from the outside."

Xena
looked surprised.  "The roof looks like it’s going to slide off any
minute."

Douglas
laughed, and it was a sexy warm chuckle that had her feeling all kinds of happy
for Beatrice, who she already knew she liked.  "That's only because the
support structure was damaged when the foundation sagged, but we can fix that. 
The good news is we don't have to build a new structure, just lift the roof
into place, replace the foundation beams, rip off the old shingles, re do the
water tight membrane and re-shingle."

"Oh,
is that all?"  Xena said trying not to laugh.  "Well, glad it's
nothing serious."  She gave big eyes to Logan who chuckled, and man was
that a good sound.

Just
that quickly, she wanted the Bruce's gone and Logan all to herself again. 
After two days of nearly constant love making, running the property lines
together as mates, and eating, she had taken the news that company was coming
as a welcome relief.  At least she had told herself it was a relief.  Her
Coyote had snarled and refused to cooperate when Xena attempted to put her back
in her box.  So she rode just beneath the surface of Xena's skin, and wanted to
growl whenever her mate went too far away. Which appeared to be about two steps
in any direction.  Which had convinced Xena, as nothing else could have, that
she needed a little space.

If she
had a watch on she would have looked at it, but she would bet it had not been
three hours since they left Logan's big comfy iron bed.  Already she wanted to
go back?  Her coyote rumbled in agreement.  Xena sighed.  Who was she kidding? 
Hell yes, she wanted to go back, and the second they were alone she was going
to jump his ass and drag him back to bed. No matter how needy that made her
appear.  She cleared her throat and turned back to Beatrice.

"Logan
said he met you at a job?"  Xena smiled, ignoring Logan's eyes heating her
skin everywhere they touched.  "He didn't go into detail, but he mentioned
that was how he had seen your work."  She hurried to add the last, in case
they got the idea that Logan had a big mouth, which he did not. His mouth was
perfect and not prone to blather.  Xena fought the need to look at that perfect
mouth and kept her eyes on the other woman.

"Yes,"
Beatrice said her eyes going from her to Logan and back again.  Her eyes
twinkled, and Xena could see she was fighting a smile.  "It had to do with
an inheritance and some vandalism to keep us busy and in ignorance until it was
too late.  Logan figured it out before things got too ugly."

"Then
you got your inheritance?"

Douglas
Bruce snorted.  "Nope." He didn't say anything more but he didn't
look bothered by the news either.  "Mean old bastard left his millions to
my fuckwad cousin, with the full knowledge he was a fuckwad."  He shrugged
those massive shoulders and moved his eyes to his wife.  They warmed considerably.

Xena
blinked at the word millions, and then tilted her head and studied the man,
Douglas Bruce realizing what she saw on his face.  "And that doesn't
bother you at all does it?" she asked surprised.

He
shrugged again and smiled at his wife, "It didn't do my fuckwad cousin any
good, some evidence came to light from his past illegal dealings and he ended
up in jail for extortion and tax evasion.  Most of the money went to the
families of the people he had cheated years ago.  The rest probably paid for
his defense."  Then the Bruces’ were both looking at Logan with sharp
eyes.  “Beatrice has a theory that you had a hand in that McCord."

Xena
felt her eyes widen, and she looked quickly to Logan, only to find his brow up
and his eyes shuttered and on Douglas.

"Course,
I then asked her what possible motive you had for doing something so over the
top like that.  You had already done more than enough in the situation."
Douglas went on, and Xena realized that there was a quick mind behind that slow
talk.  "She said some shit about a chick movie that made no sense."

That
last was a dig at his wife, Xena knew, even before Beatrice hit him on the arm
and glared at him.  "White Christmas is not a chick movie.  It's an Irving
Berlin Christmas classic, and I was referring to the saying from it. 
"Let's just say we're doing it for an old pal in the army," which you
know, since I already explained it to you once."

Douglas
turned and gave Logan a look that clearly spoke volumes.  "See what I
mean?"