Poisonous Desires (13 page)

The door to her suite opened. Poppy breezed into the room with shopping bags in her hands, bruises on her face, and a bandage over her nose. Nothing new, as far as Caroline was concerned. “
Boy, that
was close. Urban, you know, the brother of
Torger
,
was looking into Stan’s death. I nipped that in the bud. They won’t find anything. I brought some wine and a sedative for you. You need to relax and get some sleep. The police will be coming by tomorrow. I spoke to a detective on the scene and told him you were a mess and couldn’t see anyone.”

Caroline didn’t mention that someone had spoken to her already. Poppy opened a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass; she handed one to Caro, who put down her phone and accepted it. She decided to call Urban later.

“I’ll go run you a bath in that divine Jacuzzi tub.” Poppy left the room.

As Caro drank her wine, she wondered if she was being paranoid. Poppy had never hurt her or anyone else in their little band of alpha bitches, though she hadn’t heard from
Zelly
or Danielle since they’d left. Caro didn’t feel that any of them were in danger. They were in this together.

“Bath is ready; I’ll bring you another glass of wine and then leave you alone, hmm?” Poppy pulled her up off the bed. Caro went willingly; the world was now a warm bubble due to the wine, and a bath would be a good idea.

Despite all the spa treatments, she was exhausted. Caro hadn’t really thought of how Stan’s death affected her in the least. He hadn’t been an asshole to her, but he wasn’t exactly the best of husbands, certainly not like
Torger
, who’d been the picture of a gentleman the last time they’d met. As she undressed, she wondered if he and that dragon-shifter woman were serious. She was supposed to be a widow. Caroline pushed away any thoughts of finding a new mate, stepped into the tub, and sank down until she was fully immersed. Poppy entered the room, smile on her face, glass of white wine in her hand.

“Here you go; this will make you feel much better. I’ll talk to you later. Remember, I’m right next door if you need anything.” Poppy
left,
and Caroline melted into the jets and the heat of the water. Her eyelids grew heavy and her heart rate
slowed,
her body turning into a puddle of warmth. Caro let out a yawn.
Yes, I feel better already
, she thought as she fell asleep. She didn’t realize she would never wake up again.

* * * *

Poppy placed a computer printout signed by Caroline on the nightstand. Her face throbbed from Michael’s punches from earlier. She left Caroline’s room and headed back home to Michael. He hadn’t approved of her staying at the Ritz overnight, or for the rest of the week, for that matter. It killed her to have to get rid of Caroline, but she’d seen the panic in her eyes and hadn’t missed the phone in her hand. They were so close to their goal of one million, and business at the bake sale had been going like gangbusters. If Urban and his feline companion hadn’t shown up, they’d have made more money. All she had to do was switch out the bake sale goods that the woman had bought, and they would be safe. Poppy didn’t trust either of them, and she’d heard that Stan’s soup hadn’t been finished and there had been some left over. At least now the blame would go to Caroline.

* * * *

Urban checked his phone for the tenth time.
Still no word from Nadia.
With a growl, he stood up and marched out of the house.
Torger
was working late.
Isy
was on a deadline. He was all alone. Tension knotted in his stomach. His argument with Nadia hung in his mind, and he didn’t like the way they’d left things. She may not have been perceptive to his viewpoint, but that didn’t mean she had to jump out of the car. With a growl he grabbed his laptop, intent on doing more research on the Werewolf Summit. Words on the screen blurred together before he slammed down the lid in frustration. It was no use; his brain was stuck on Nadia and their fight. He picked up his phone and dialed
Isy’s
number. She and Nadia were friends; she would know something about her.

“Can’t talk, busy, deadline,”
Isy
said in way of a greeting.

“I need to know where Nadia would be staying while she’s in town. She’s helping me on the Summit,” Urban replied, hoping
Isy’s
reporter radar wouldn’t pick up anything in his tone or get too curious.

“Weird, but whatever; she’d be at her condo.
Thirty-two Rue de Leopard, in the
Chatte
district.
Gotta
go, bye.”
Isy
hung up before Urban could respond.

She had a condo? Here in town? Nadia lived here?
Urban gritted his teeth and stomped into his bedroom; he grabbed an overnight bag and threw in some clothes and a few toys, then headed out to his SUV.
Enough of this running around the issue, bullshit, no more hiding personal details; she’s going to tell me everything now,
he thought to himself as he slid behind the wheel and headed toward the feline district. He knew that she would resist, but he was intent on getting more from her. Urban wanted to make her see that not only was he sympathetic to her viewpoint, but he had something to say on the subject too. No more being stubborn; he’d rip down her defense if he had to, but she was his, and he refused to let her hurt alone anymore. He’d be there to comfort her, hold her after the nightmares, and make love to her when she needed human contact.

Chapter Six

Nadia placed an order for the Carnivore Special pizza from the Howling Moon Pizzeria. She wasn’t hungry but needed to eat something, otherwise she’d crash, and her leopard would have to pull them both out of the lurch. She shuffled around her condo, shoulders feeling heavy,
muscles
tight with tension. Ever since she got home, she’d been unable to unclench her jaw.
Urban’s
words echoed around her brain like a looping record. Anger sparked throughout her body, but at the same time she could see her point. Despite her father’s actions, the
pard
hadn’t taken much action, except to hide them when it had gotten really bad. They were all terrified of
Ephram’s
wrath, especially when he was drunk. That wasn’t the way of most
pards
or packs of other feline-shifter groups. But the groups had strict rules, things had changed, they’d modernized, women had a prominent role in making decisions and being in leadership positions. With a sigh, she tried to distract herself by taking in her now spotless condo.

The cleaning crew had been in while she’d been out and had done a marvelous job. It was the middle of the afternoon, but all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn’t want to call Urban to tell him she’d arrived home safe and sound. Another shower or taking a bath didn’t sound appealing in the least. Depression pressed upon her psyche at a time when she couldn’t afford it to. Nadia thought about doing a quick shift and hunt, but the leopard didn’t want to come out and play.

“Great; neither one of us is great company right now.” Her phone rang, and she sighed. She knew who it was without looking at the caller ID.
Zerik
would want an update. She answered without thinking.

“
Zerik
, I know
the who
, but not the why. I’ll have more
later
.”
Short and sweet.

“Good. Call me when you have anything else.”
Zerik
hung up.

Nadia considered drying and pressing her hair but pushed that idea away. It wasn’t like she had anyone to meet, and besides, she could wash, dry, and straighten tomorrow. Her heart felt heavy. Too many emotions weighed her down. She was exhausted, her body ached, and her head felt full of crap. Nadia wanted to run, to work it out of her system, but she’d eventually have to return home and deal with her issues. Maybe call
Milena
and see how she was doing with her new life outside of Armpit, USA. It was almost the anniversary of their mother’s death; maybe she’d finally go home and face her demons. Nadia snorted at that thought.
No way in hell.

The doorbell rang, and with a tired gait she grabbed some money out of her petty cash cookie jar and went to the door. She threw it open as her stomach growled. “Now you’re hungry,” she muttered to herself.

“I’m hungry, but not for pizza. You owe me twenty bucks.” Urban brushed past her, pie in hand and a bag in his other hand, and walked into her condo. His emotions crackled around him like a halo of anger, annoyance, frustration, and sexual desire.

Nadia ignored his feelings and slammed the door shut. She wasn’t surprised he’d found her or that he was here. Urban was a spook, but he wouldn’t have invaded her privacy. So that left one way:
Isy
. She made a mental note to make
Isy
suffer horribly for this. “What’s with the other bag?” she asked as she followed him into the kitchen, rather than address all the other things that she could’ve started with. Nadia didn’t want to get into another argument or admit he was right.

Without asking, he rifled through her cabinets and drawers until he found plates, napkins, and glasses. Urban put together two dishes of pizza and filled both their cups with a merlot she’d been saving for some sort of occasion when wine was needed.
I guess now’s as good a time as any.

“You’ll find out later. For now, we get to eat dinner like civilized people out on a date.” He carried both plates into the dining room area and put them in front of seats next to each other. Urban went back to the kitchen, picked up the glasses, and gestured for her to follow him.

“We’re not out on a date,” she pointed out. Nadia fought back against the smile that tugged at her lips.

“Semantics.
But this is a date; now sit down,” he said with a growl.

Heat flashed through her body as her clit pulsed with awareness. Her nipples tightened, and her womb contracted. Unable to resist him, she did as he ordered. As much as she hated it, she couldn’t deny him.

“Damn you,” she muttered. He may not have meant it sexually, but when he growled out like that, her body responded. It was as if her body was hardwired for him, so long as her emotions didn’t get too hot.

“Curse me all you want, but you’re going to tell me what I want to know and after that, we’ll see where it goes, but this is a date.” Urban used that buttery soft baritone that made her toes curl, and a spark of heat burst in her stomach.

Damn him again.
She shifted in her seat. His body temperature pressed against her right side. He didn’t make it easy on her by shuffling his chair closer until their arms touched. Her awareness sharpened down to only him. She could smell the Irish Spring soap he’d used and his wolf musk. All those months of being away from him made her greedy for his presence. She wanted to cuddle up to him, feel his arms wrapped around her, sense the solidity of his body against hers. Her lips tingled wanting his kiss, wanting to taste him. Nadia took in a gulp of air and blew it out through her nose, trying to steady her heart’s erratic beating. She picked up her slice of pizza and began to eat, barely tasting the meat, spices, sauce, or cheese.

Urban was too close for comfort. Her skin felt too tight and prickled with awareness. Her ears burned, and
goosebumps
broke out over her bare arms and legs. She took a sip of wine. The burn of the alcohol added to the growing fire in the pit of her stomach. He was in
her
space,
her
home, and yet
he
felt totally comfortable there as if it was truly
his
realm, not hers. She wasn’t sure how to take that information in and process it. He moved in his seat and his arm brushed against hers, sending shivers up her side. Yearning tugged low in her stomach as the arousal continued to build.

“So, how long have you lived here?” he asked, tone light.

His question drew her out of her sensations, bringing her back into what was supposed to be normal. She licked her lips and tried to move away from him in her chair, but he only moved with her. Nadia gritted her teeth. There was no escaping him. If she told him to fuck off, he’d only come back, and besides that, he could give her access to the Summit. She turned in her chair and pushed him away. He chuckled and shifted his chair over; with reluctance she moved back to her place setting, missing his body heat, even if he was only a few inches away. “I’ve lived here for at least five years, give or take, on and off,” she replied and took another sip of wine, waiting for him to explode.

He’d been in and out of town, and she had seen him at times. Never did she initiate contact with him. Part of her had always been too afraid that something like this would happen, that Urban would come barreling into her home, invading her space, and learning more about her to the point where he’d never want to leave. Then he’d discover the shadows of her past and leave her before she could be the one to push him away. That was her biggest fear, that Urban would leave, and she’d lose out on someone who could help heal her, help stabilize her, and could truly be her
soulmate
. She’d never voiced those concerns or spoke about them out loud. Her inner cynic didn’t believe in all that bullshit of
soulmates
or mates in general.

Zerik
kept insisting that she needed more therapy to help her with her issues, but she refused to do it. Telling another stranger her personal history didn’t sit well with her but now, she felt the urge to unburden herself to someone to help her deal with being so close to Urban. Not
Isy
, though; she was too close to
Torger
. Urban was close to his brother, but did he tell him everything? She wasn’t sure she wanted so much of her history and info out there, where she couldn’t control what was said or what kind of light it was shown in. Did she really want to trust Urban that much? Nadia nibbled her bottom lip as her brain turned over the possibilities.

Urban touched her arm, bringing her out of her thoughts and sending a shock of electricity up her arm. She sucked in a breath; her nipples tightened further, and her pussy slickened.

“Where did you go? Honey, please, you need to open up to me,” he said, his voice soft and lulling.

Need?
She gritted her teeth and drew up her walls, as tattered as they were. “I don’t
need
to do anything. And no, I don’t need to open up to you. We fuck; that’s it.”

Urban didn’t move back; instead, he moved closer until his body pressed against her side. “Fine; you
will
open up to me.”

“No.” She put as much acid as she could into that single word.

“Damn it, Nadia, don’t do this. Don’t make me force you to submit to me. We’ve never done that.” His voice was rough, edged in anger.

She returned her focus to eating her pizza and drinking her wine. Nadia felt the laser focus of
Urban’s
stare. He wasn’t wavering in his gaze, not even as it went into five minutes of nothing but looking at her. She gritted her teeth.
“
Stop
.”

“No, I’m not going to
stop
. I’m not going to halt in pursuing you.” His breath fanned her neck as his lips whispered against her ear.

The delicate skin tingled and burned. She swallowed as sweat beaded on her brow, and her hands began to shake so badly she couldn’t pick up her pizza or her glass.

“You’re mine, Nadia.
Mine
.” He nipped at her lobe. The sting traveled from her ear down to her clit. She sucked in a breath and waited to hear what he’d say next. His lips traveled down to the hollow under her ear. “Every inch of you belongs to me and only me.”

She pressed her lips together as a whimper formed in her throat.

He continued to whisper. “No one else does it for me, makes me hard like you do. I can’t breathe without thinking about your perfume, the taste of your skin, your cream. I close my eyes and hear your moans, your whimpers, your…
pleas.
”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt his hand press against her thigh.

“Your body is mine to fuck, mine to caress, and mine to do with as I please. But I don’t just want every luscious curve of you; I want your mind and your heart. I want all of you, and I won’t settle for anything…” He flicked his tongue over her pulse point and slid his hand up to the juncture of her legs, pressing his finger against her groin. “…less.”

The pressure on her clit wasn’t enough. She wanted to move but was frozen under his spell, waiting to hear what he’d say next. Nadia was on the edge of a great chasm waiting to fall over. Only
Urban’s
voice and touch tethered her to reality.

“But I want you to give in to me willingly. I’m not going to initiate sex, only to have you use that as cover. If we make love, you’ll have to earn it.” He pulled back and returned to eating his pizza as if nothing had happened.

Damn him
. She gritted her teeth and tried to regain control of her overheated body. Nadia felt like she was on a knife’s edge, ready, primed for sex and waiting for the signal. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Her nerve endings were misfiring as if waiting for his touch to incinerate her. As the shroud around her brain cleared, two words drifted out of the fog:
make love.
He’d never used that phrase before. Hearing him say those two words together made her feel unsure of how to proceed. To make love means you’re emotionally invested; at least to her, it did. He also wanted her to earn that right. She was confused at the turn the situation had taken. How can she earn his touch? How can she earn sex? He always guided her with his commands and orders. She felt adrift in unfamiliar territory.

“You say I have to earn it, but what about you? Now you’re saying we make love? What we do is scratch an itch,” she said. To her, the words were harsh. Nadia didn’t cringe; instead, she drained her glass and refilled it, hoping this line of conversation would drive him away so she could be in peace and calm her riotous emotions. She really didn’t want to get her heart and hopes up.