Operation Saving Daniel (Entangled Covet) (19 page)

“Or I can let my second fight in my stead—Joe’s my second.” He tugged her so she turned to face him. “Or my mate can fight for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your mate?”

“That would be you. I hope.” He held himself still as he waited for her answer.

Lissa, stroked a hand down over his hair, then stood up on tiptoes and kissed him quickly. “I’ll be your mate. If you’ll be my husband.”

“I will,” he said, and inside his wolf howled in agreement.

Epilogue

So what did you get a billionaire werewolf for his thirtieth birthday?

Melissa tightened her black, slinky robe and tweaked the big red bow at her throat. For a minute, she hesitated at the door, then took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Across the room, Daniel lay awake, his silver eyes gleaming in the dim light. He came up on his elbows. “Have you bought me my present?”

“Oh yeah.” From behind her back, she whipped out a big juicy bone, tied with a ribbon.

“Ha-ha.”

She grinned. “You don’t like my present? I got it fresh from the butcher’s. No? How about this instead?”

After untying the belt, she let the robe slip to the floor to reveal the black lace underwear beneath and heard the hiss of his indrawn breath. She glided toward him, tripped over her heels, and swore.

“Some things never change,” he murmured.

Lissa kicked off the shoes, ran the last few feet to the bed, hurled herself on top of him, and smothered his face with kisses. He didn’t fight back, and she snuggled into the curve of his shoulder. After a minute, she raised herself up to look at him.

“Your sisters are worried about you.”

His eyes widened. “Why?” Lissa could hear the instinctive fear in the words, feel the stiffening of his muscles.

Hah—she’d known that would get a reaction. “Probably because you’re a werewolf. But don’t worry, you have me to protect you now.”

He relaxed against her. “Don’t do that.”

Ten days had passed since he’d killed Ethan and taken over the pack. Most of the wolves had accepted his leadership, though apparently a few had disappeared. According to Daniel, Ethan’s leadership had left a lot of scores to be settled. But the time had been busy, and when Daniel wasn’t dealing with pack problems, he disappeared into his lab. Lissa didn’t care—he was happy, even if he wasn’t perfect. And the nights were hers, as well as the next two weeks.

They were getting married in the morning; neither of them wanted to wait. Jason was giving her away. Julia was pulling herself out of her preoccupation with her incipient furriness to act as her bridesmaid, complete with a pink dress. And the whole pack was going to be present. It was like some huge family, which made her feel all warm and fuzzy.

Afterward they were going on honeymoon, two whole weeks alone, returning in time for the next full moon, so Daniel could help his sister through her first change. Lissa prayed it would go well. For Julia, but also for herself.

Daniel was urging her to let him change her as well, so she would be safe from harm and from illness and she wouldn’t age. But there was something she wanted first. Werewolves couldn’t carry babies to full term; they shifted at full moon and invariably miscarried. And Lissa wanted babies. So they were trying their hardest, which was fun.

Daniel rolled her over so she was beneath him, cupping her face in his palms. “So now do you believe in fairy tales?” he asked.

“It would be hard not to, but I still think I make a lousy princess.”

“You’re a perfect princess. You’re my princess.” He tugged her toward him. “So what happens next?”

She leaned up and kissed his mouth. “And then they lived happily ever after, of course.”

Acknowledgements

Once again to my fabulous editors at Entangled Publishing, Liz Pelletier, and Robin Haseltine, for all their wonderful comments and edits. To all the great women at Passionate Critters for reading my stories and letting me know what they really think. And finally, to Rob, who puts up with me, and encourages me, and doesn’t get too fed up with me being in my imaginary worlds and filling the house with vampires and werewolves.

About the Author

Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of nine-to-five work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.

Nina writes all types of romance, often mixed with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.

Visit her here:
www.ninacroft.com

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More from Nina Croft...

The Descartes Legacy

Chapter One

Darkness had fallen by the time Luke arrived at the outskirts of the village, fifty miles north of London. He drove slowly through the quiet streets until he spotted the black SUV parked in the shadows between streetlights on the edge of the road.

Pulling up behind, he got out of his own vehicle and slipped into the passenger seat of the car ahead.

Callum tapped his earpiece to show he was listening to someone and glanced up. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Truth was—he felt like shit. He rubbed his eyes, gritty from lack of sleep. “Tell me what we have.”

“Our friend Carson has surfaced at last. He’s been tailing someone, but I’ve got to say, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Who’s the subject?”

“A Dr. David Griffiths?”

“Never heard of him.” Luke thought for a moment. “A doctor? Could he be a scientist? Maybe they need him for something.”

“Unlikely. He’s a medical doctor—a GP. I’ve had Stefan do a quick background check, and there’s nothing to suggest any involvement. The guy’s a nobody.”

Luke rested his head against the seat and stared out into the night. “No. There
has
to be a connection. We’re just not seeing it.” Frustration clawed at his guts. Every instinct told him he was on to something, but things weren’t adding up. “Where are they now?”

“In there. It’s the doctor’s office.” Callum nodded toward a building opposite. It stood back from the road with a parking area in front containing a single vehicle. Lights shone from the front windows. “Carson’s questioning him. So far it’s been softly-softly, but I have an idea Carson’s about to up the game.”

“What’s he asking?”

“Apparently, the doctor has been doing some searches on things he shouldn’t be.”

“Such as?”

Callum turned to him with a grin. “Descartes? Does that cheer you up?”

Oh yeah
. The muscles in his belly clenched tight. Maybe they were on to something, after all. “Do you have a comm unit for me?”

Callum handed him one, and Luke placed it in his ear. A man’s voice.

“Sit down.”

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you leave before I call the police.”

The sounds of a scuffle came down the earpiece.

“Now, tell me about Descartes.”

“I told you—I don’t know anything about any Descartes.”

A dull thud followed and the doctor’s next words were panicked.

“It’s a place…on the moon… I don’t know what else it means.”

There was a moment’s silence and then a shrill scream.

“Shit.” Luke reached for the door handle, but Callum halted him with a hand on his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To stop this.”

“Luke, think. This doctor is one man. We’re trying to stop an attack that could kill thousands, maybe more, and he’s our only lead.”

Now available from Entangled Publishing:
http://www.entangledpublishing.com/the-descartes-legacy/

…

Break Out

A Blood Hunter Novel: Book One

Rico hurled himself behind the huge trunk of a tree and stood, back pressed against the rough bark as the missiles whizzed past.

An arrow thwacked into the wood behind him, and every muscle in his body tensed. He reached gingerly around and snapped it off. In the dim light, he held the shaft to his face and cursed loudly—wooden arrows. It was almost as though they were expecting him.

“Goddamn heathen peasants.” He might as well be back in the Dark Ages.

In the distance, a pack of hounds bayed for blood. His blood. But they weren’t getting it.

He braced himself and peered around the trunk through the thick stand of trees, and spotted the crimson glow of a hundred torches not too far in the distance. Breathing in, he caught the oily scent of burning pitch.

A triumphant roar filled the air. The hounds must have picked up his scent.

Rico cursed and darted off again, weaving through the dense forest with blurring speed. He could outrun the mob and the hounds, but it was a damn poor way to end an evening.

When the sound of voices faded behind him, he slowed down and finally came to a halt. Time to get the hell out of there. Leaning against a tree, he switched on his comm unit.

“What is it?” Tannis sounded irritated, and Rico frowned.

“I need picking up.”

“It will have to be later—I’m busy.”

He cocked his head to one side, listening for the sound of the mob, judging its distance. His pursuers would be on him soon. Tannis had better get unbusy and fast.

“Tannis, stop whatever it is you’re doing, bring my goddamn spaceship, and pick me up.”

She was silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”

The line went dead. He stared at the comm receiver on his wrist. She’d cut him off. Gritting his teeth, he imagined the pleasure of tossing her mutant body out of the ship’s airlock. Only first, he had to get back to the ship. He pressed his finger down until he heard the line open.

“What?” she snapped.

“Tannis, are you aware that I’ve rigged
The Cazador
to blow if I don’t input a unique numerical code every twenty-four hours? Come and get me or the whole ship goes up.”

“Good try, but I don’t believe you. You don’t think that far ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that time last year?”

“What time?”

“The time I saved your worthless life. At great personal risk to myself.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So bloody well reciprocate.”

A shaft of burning pain shot through his leg and he jumped, then stared down in disbelief at the arrow sticking out of his calf, an inch below the knee. “I’ve been shot,” he said.

“Shot? By what?”

“By a big fucking arrow. Get down here. Now.”

He yanked the arrow from his leg and flung it to the forest floor. “Or you’re fired,” he added and shut off the connection.

His pursuers were close now, so close he could hear the fierce crackle of flames mixed with the rise and fall of excited voices. He ignored the pain in his leg and took off through the trees again. A few minutes later, he skidded to a halt.

Straight in front of him, the land fell away abruptly. He peered over the edge. A long way below, water roared. A lot of water. A lot of
cold
water. He hated cold water. He searched the sky for any sign of Tannis, but a thick layer of cloud obscured the moons and he saw only darkness. He jammed his finger onto the comm unit. “You here yet?”

“Have a little patience. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Great, just great. The problem is,
I
might not be here in five minutes.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. Just hold on.”

He stared over the edge into the dark, turbulent water. “Hold on to what?”

A low snarl sounded behind him. With a sigh of resignation, he turned to face his pursuers. They emerged from the shadowy tree line, torches held in front of them, before fanning out to form a semi-circle around him.

One of the hounds crept toward him, belly close to the ground, growling softly. It reminded Rico a little of the dogs back on Earth, probably even had some real dog DNA in there somewhere. Rico growled back, baring his fangs. The animal got the message, turned tail, and ran.

Now available from Entangled Publishing:

http://www.entangledpublishing.com/break-out/

…

Deadly Pursuit

A Blood Hunter Novel: Book Two

A pair of sickle moons hung low in the sky, casting a sullen, blood-red glow insufficient to light the path. High Priest Hezrai Fischer swore under his breath as he tripped over a tree root and only just prevented himself from sprawling on the ground in an undignified heap.

“How much farther?” he snapped.

“Not far now, my Lord,” the guide murmured soothingly. He’d been saying the same words for the last hour.

The procession wound its way up a steep track cut into the side of a mountain, on what had to be the most godforsaken planet in the known universe. Sweat soaked his robes, and every muscle ached from the unusual exercise. “Why here?” he asked the world in general. “Why couldn’t she have been born on some nice, civilized planet?”

“God works in mysterious ways,” Sister Martha said softly from beside him.

Sanctimonious bitch.

He gritted his teeth as the words hovered on his lips. Personally, he would have preferred a little less mystery and a little more common sense from God. Biting back the blasphemous thought, he peered sideways at his companion. She had no trouble maneuvering up the track, seeming to glide in her long, black robes. Her face was serene; only the subdued glow in her eyes hinted at her excitement.

Left to him, he would have chosen a different companion. Sister Martha always set his teeth on edge, but as the head of the Order of the Sisters of Everlasting Life, it would be her duty to take charge of the new priestess. He hadn’t been able to think of a reasonable excuse to leave her behind.

The old High Priestess had died a month ago. They had immediately sent out seekers to all the inhabited planets to search for the new vessel; a baby girl born at the exact moment of the old priestess’s death into whom the holy spark would have been transferred.

“We’re here, my Lord.”

“Here” appeared to be a tiny hovel. Dull orange light flickered from the single window. He smoothed his robes, raised his fist, and banged on the wooden door.

It was opened seconds later by one of the brothers. “My Lord.”

Hezrai nodded brusquely. “They know we are coming? Have they agreed?”

“Yes, my Lord. For one thousand credits, they will hand over the child.”

“They should hand her over for the glory of the Church,” he snarled.

“They are not members, my Lord, but they are poor.”

Hezrai detected a slight censure in the words; he’d ignore it for now, but made a mental note of the man’s name. “Let’s get this over with.”

He followed the brother into the house, though “house” was an ambitious word for the single, dingy space he found himself in. The air held a sharp, sour smell, and he wrinkled his nose.

At the far side of the room, a man and a woman huddled together. The man held a baby in his arms.

“At last,” Hezrai muttered. Perhaps now they could finish this and get back to civilization. He stepped closer and peered down at the baby. He didn’t know much about babies, and wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but some sense of holiness at the very least.

“Are we sure?” It was an ugly little thing with a squashed up face, strange gray eyes rimmed with black, and a shock of dark red hair. Hezrai frowned. “Has there ever been a red-haired priestess?”

“Not that I remember.” Sister Martha sounded dubious. “Can we see the sign?”

The father parted the robes. A purple birthmark showed clearly on her right thigh in the perfect shape of a cross.

Hezrai nodded. It was enough for him. “Make the transfer.”

He waited, tapping his foot on the rough wood floor, trying to ignore the stench of the place. Finally, the transaction was complete. “Right then...Get the girl and let’s go.”

The parents hadn’t said a word, but now the mother stepped forward. “Please, I don’t—”

Her husband halted her with a hand on her arm. “Shut up, Lisa. There’ll be other babies.”

“But—”

“We discussed this. What sort of life will she have here? With the Church, she’ll have a chance—a future.”

Hezrai rolled his eyes. Yeah right, they were doing this for the infant, nothing to do with the thousand credits. He really hoped the woman wasn’t going to be difficult. Before she could say another word, the man edged closer to Hezrai and shoved the baby into his arms.

Hezrai almost dropped it.

Now he knew where the disgusting smell was coming from. Staring down into its red face, he tried to feel some religious awe. This was the High Priestess returned to them. She blinked at him from intense gray eyes, screwed up her features, and screamed, nearly bursting his eardrums.

“Quiet, child.” He made an effort to keep his voice even. If he gave in to his natural inclination and screamed back, he suspected it would do more harm than good.

She shrieked louder.

“Give her to me.” Sister Martha held out her arms.

A second ago, he would have gladly handed her over; now that the sister had asked, he tightened his grip and gritted his teeth. “The child belongs to God now. She must learn obedience.”

The baby quieted, her lips curving into a sweet smile.

“There, you see, she just needs discipline.”

She opened her mouth and regurgitated vile smelling, half-digested milk down his pristine black robe.

That was the moment Hezrai Fischer began to hate the brand new High Priestess of the Church of Everlasting Life.

Now available from Entangled Publishing:
http://www.entangledpublishing.com/deadly-pursuit-2

…

Bittersweet Blood

Chapter One

Rule Number One: Never question the past.

Tara took a single step into the alleyway and stopped.

Up ahead, something shifted in the shadows and a waft of warm air carried the stench of dirty smoke and rotten eggs to her nostrils. A prickle of unease shivered across her skin.

No way was she ending up dead in a dark alley before she had a chance to break Rule Number One. Wrinkling her nose against the smell, she held her breath and backed out into the bright lights of the main street.