The Mating Rite (Big, Beautiful Werewolf) (Werewolves of Montana) (12 page)

“Brian is Wylding, a shifter just like us, only he’s a snake.”

“He’s not a snake, he’s a great guy…”

“Snake
shifter
,” he repeated. “My guess is a particularly strong one, not venomous. Anaconda. Squeezes prey to death instead of biting.”

Sam went pale and set down her glass. “He can’t be a shifter. He looks so…”

“Normal? Geeky? Typical for Wyldings like him. They like to wear Skin suits that disguise their true nature so they can draw close to their prey and then pounce.” Darius slid a palm over her hand, worried at the cold, clammy feel of her skin. “I’m guessing his contracts with clients have very restrictive terms.”

“Like if you leave your job before the year is out, he’ll strangle you?” She rubbed her forehead. “I feel stupid. Why would a shifter want to work in the city?”

Darius gave her a level look. “Perhaps for the same reason you did. To run away from his true nature by hiding in Skin.”

Sam sputtered and averted her gaze. “I’m not running from anything.”

She pushed away from the table, stood on shaky legs and told him, “I don’t feel good.”

Alarmed, he sprang out of his seat and caught her elbow.

“I’m fine.”

Slurred words. Pupils dilated, but the lighting was low. Darius gently clasped her wrist, feeling her pulse. Fast and thready.

Shit. Shit.

“Fine,” she repeated, and then her eyes rolled backward.

He caught her in his arms as she collapsed against him.

Chapter 5

Some hangovers just were so not worth it.

Samantha struggled to sit up, her head thumping. She pressed two fingers to her aching temples and moaned, her gluey eyelids finally opening.

Hookay. She was not in her matchbox-sized apartment. She was in a hotel room, a very nice hotel room…

Darius’ room!

Panic tightened her throat. She glanced down and the alarm turned to panic. Bra and… She lifted the covers. Mint green panties.

She’d spent the night with Darius in her underwear.

Gripping the covers, she scanned the room. Sounds of a running shower came from the bathroom. Samantha touched her ears and realized he’d removed the earplugs. Her dress and panty hose had somehow vanished; she didn’t see them anywhere. Red suffused her face. He’d removed her clothing, had seen exactly how chubby she was, as chubby as Todd claimed.

But bigger problems existed. Like finding her clothing and getting the hell out of here.

Had they had sex? Sam pressed a palm to her pounding forehead. If only she could remember!

But except for the pounding headache, the rest of her felt okay. No sore muscles and no soreness between her legs. And knowing what a wicked wolf Darius was, he wouldn’t have left her in her underwear, but ripped it off her.

So she had passed out. Samantha groaned. Great.

Scanning the room for her clothing, she saw deep gouges on the wall by the chair. Odd. They looked like claw marks.

Flipping onto her stomach, she buried her face into the pillow. And then caught the delicious smell of male, spices and pine. Darius. Samantha grabbed the pillow next to her and inhaled, moaning.

Oh gods, he smelled so damn good! Her limbs went boneless, and she ground her hips against the mattress. Beneath the bra’s lace, her nipples peaked.

She’d spent the entire night in Darius’ bed and they hadn’t had sex. Samantha squeezed her fists, her wolf rising to the surface. She had to fight this, because sex with Darius would lead to other things…

She remembered the amber flashing in his eyes, the savage look of the wolf. Not civilized. Not safe.

Lupines were dangerous. She remembered the lust in his father’s eyes. The alpha would do anything to hunt her down and punish her.

Samantha touched her neck, remembering Darius’ mating mark. What a silly fool she was! She hadn’t even considered the consequences. The mark protected her from all males. Including his father…

The shower stopped. A loud humming sounded from inside the bathroom. Then the door pulled open and Darius strolled out wearing only a white towel slung low around his lean hips, his black hair damp. Her jaw dropped open.

She bit back a moan. He was gorgeous. Long, strong limbs, dusted with black hair, torso rippling with muscle and sinew, his shoulders broad and hard. Droplets shimmered in his mop of black curls.

He saw her staring and smiled knowingly. Then he ducked into the room across the hallway. When he emerged, he wore jeans and a black T-shirt. The magnificent view had vanished.

Disappointed, Sam pulled up the covers, then scolded herself for feeling disappointed.

Then again, she was female and what female with a heartbeat wouldn’t find Darius devastating?

“Good. You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like an eighteen-wheeler ran over my head and backed up again,” she admitted.

He sat down beside her and felt her forehead. The gesture was soothing against her chilled skin. “No fever. The drugs didn’t make you sick.”

She pressed a finger against her throbbing temple. “What happened? We didn’t…”

Another blush heated her face. Darius gave a crooked smile. “No, darling. When we make love, I want you fully conscious and when you wake up in my bed after, you won’t have a stitch of clothing on. I didn’t tempt fate. Slept on the chair. When I slept. Damn hard to do with your scent in my nostrils, making my wolf come out.”

Glancing at the chair, and the claw marks on the wall, she suddenly understood. “Rough night?”

His jaw went tight. “Very rough. Good thing I have an account here. The hotel manager will let me stay again as long as I pay for damages.”

She frowned and pressed two fingers against her right temple. “I passed out?”

“At the club. I brought you back here and put you in bed.” Anger darkened his face. “It’s as if someone spiked your drink.”

Fresh fear curled through her. “Who would do that?”

“Usually men do it to women they want to fuck without the woman’s consent.”

The vulgarity and his harsh expression sent another chill racing down her spine. “But I didn’t even take a sip of water at Jones. Did I?”

Two lines formed between his dark, silky brows. “No. But the drink Todd tossed in your face had something in it. I could smell it.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know. I called in a favor and sent the handkerchief you used to a friend’s lab for testing. When did you start feeling bad?”

“A short while after we left the restaurant. I felt woozy, but thought it was all the drama.”

Darius frowned. “The liquor was drugged with something, and it got into your system. He probably intended to use it on the woman he was talking with, and ended up throwing it at you. Stay here a minute. I need to warn his alpha. If this asshole is trying to molest Skin females, Simon will put a stop to it.”

Taking his cell phone off the nightstand, he went into the dressing room. When he returned, pocketing the cell, concern showed on his expression. “You’re very pale. I can order breakfast, but you might not tolerate it well.”

She put a shaky hand to her forehead. “Oh, I can tolerate a lot of things, it seems. I get a drink tossed into my face by a rude wolf, dance with a sly snake and pass out in your arms in public. And I wake up in your bed in my underwear and I’m still as celibate as a nun.”

She bit her lip and felt the color flood her face. A gleam lit his eyes. “Darling, when you’re feeling better, I’ll help you change that last part.”

A pleasant throbbing started between her legs. Sex with Darius would probably feel incredible. Regular human, vanilla sex in the missionary position where he gazed into her eyes.

And it would break her heart to look at him and see in his eyes that she was the same as any other woman he’d bedded. She needed passion and fire, but tenderness and something deeper and richer. Too much had happened to risk her heart.

Changing the subject, she asked him for her clothing.

“In a minute.” He gave her a searching look that could coax state secrets from a CIA spy. “Tell me how long it’s been since you shifted.”

Samantha bit her lip, knowing the question wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. “A while.”

“How long?”

Avoiding his gaze, she shrugged. “A year.”

“One year?!”

“Or five. Six, maybe seven years.”

Silence fell. She stole a glance at him, saw a muscle in his firm jaw jump. “No wonder all your senses have shut down. You’ve penned up your wolf.”

“It wasn’t exactly as if she howled to get out,” she said dryly. “And I saw no need to jump at the full moon and streak down the street in a fur coat. Living in the city has kept me away from Lupines and OtherWorlders.”

“No, it hasn’t. They’ve been around you; you just couldn’t detect them.”

Samantha bristled at the criticism. “So what if I couldn’t? I like living and working in Skin.” And here in the city, she could hide from his father’s wrath.

“And living in Skin has made you susceptible to hidden dangers.” He calmed his voice. “Tell me more about this Todd. Had you ever met before the blind date?”

“Never. He was supposed to meet me at the restaurant.” Samantha swallowed her pride. “I was at the table when he came inside, saw me and insulted me. He called me fat.”

Embarrassed, she shut up. She’d endured enough humiliation.

Darius touched her cheek, his expression softening. “You’re not fat, Sam. You’re a perfect Lupine female. It was something else.”

“Maybe he didn’t like my dress,” she joked.

His eyes widened. “If you wore that ugly black rag you wore to Jones, yeah. But not the polka-dotted dress you wore to the restaurant. It shows a lot of your legs. You have very, very nice legs.”

His smile, oh, it was incandescent, and sent a tingle from her head to her toes. The wolf was irresistible to women. Suddenly she remembered the videotapes the detective had filmed. Darius had not been discreet in his sex life. He’d been in an outdoor hot tub at a resort known for hedonism and the Lupine lived up to the establishment’s reputation. A hot flush surged through her body as she recalled his muscled shoulders flexing, his lean hips pumping hard as he pushed into his partner, his face taut with strain, his hair damp and curling, the woman moaning as she gripped his back.

Darius was beautiful when he made love. Other women knew the pleasure of stroking those sleek muscles, of tangling their fingers through his ebony curls, or feeling the delicious, erotic intensity of his mouth as he’d kissed their naked bodies.

She’d stared at those tapes a long time, a hot razor slicing her heart, the longing to be that blonde woman on the tape so piercing she hadn’t cried.

Samantha had screamed.

This was quite dangerous, being in bed, no, being in
his
bed, finally in the one place she’d dreamed of all these years. But it was all wrong. The pain of losing him had become a permanent mark on her heart. Samantha valued herself too much to become another woman he screwed, and she wasn’t certain he really wanted
her
, or just wanted sex. Not just vanilla sex, either, but the savage sex he’d require during a mating rite.

Starting to slide out of bed, she stopped, remembering her near nudity. At her fierce blush, he went to the closet and returned with the hotel’s courtesy bathrobe. Samantha shrugged into it, wanting to moan at the toasty warmth and the woodsy scent of Darius enveloping her, cedar and freshly fallen rain and a unique, very male musk that made her ache.

Her wolf wagged her tail.
Yummy, yummy, let’s play.

An equally fierce light ignited his gaze. “I like you in my robe. You look good. You’d look even better out of it, though.”

She licked her lips and watched his hungry gaze track each flick of her tongue. Heat spiraled through her, flames of need she wanted to extinguish, now.

“Water?”

Instantly he became all business, fetching her a glass of water.

When she finished and set the glass on the nightstand, Darius kneaded the tension from her shoulders, his hands warm and his touch light but expert.

“I’m sorry that bastard Todd insulted you, but I’m glad he didn’t follow through on the date. You were meant to be mine, Sam.”

Troubled by the growing feelings of heat as he massaged, she pushed away his hands with a smile to soften the action. “I’m fine. Really. Dealing with Todd types who call me fat is part of the price I pay for being a single girl in the city.”

“I should have killed that son of a bitch.” He fisted his hands.

“Slow down.” She put a hand on his fist, stroked his knuckles just like the old days when Darius’ temper soared after a fight with his father, and he felt the urge to shift into wolf. Darius stared at her hand, and she felt his pulse slow. He gently clasped her fingers. Closing his eyes, he rested her palm against his flushed cheek and took a deep breath.

They used to do this in the forest. All those times when they’d been there for each other, each being the other’s calming influence and anchor. The connection they shared that ran so deep, she couldn’t ever imagine being without him. It hurt to remember, so much that pain tightened her chest, making it difficult to breathe.