Guardian (Wolf Shifter Romance): Reckless Desires (Alpha Protectors Book 1) (11 page)

“
A
re you awake
?” Cole’s voice tugged me from dreamland.

I rolled over, dragging the pillow out from under my head and shoved it over my eyes. “No.”

“Tasha—”

“What?”

“I need you.”

His words had me bolting upright in bed, though I tried to mask my reaction by stretching my arms high above my head.
He needed me?

He stood in the doorway, his large frame highlighted by the soft glow from the corridor, his face cast in shadows. He didn’t speak, and didn’t move. Images of him striding across the room and pulling me into his arms fizzled and died.

“What time is it?” I eventually asked.

“Late.” His voice sounded strangled, forced.

“What’s the matter?” I whispered, sliding out of the bed. My bare feet hit the floor with a soft thud.

A loud
crack
sounded from over where he stood.

I padded toward him, straining to see his face. “Cole?” I flicked the light on.

Cole’s shoved his hand behind his back, a guilty expression on his face. A large hole gaped in the doorframe right where his hand had been. Lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes were fixed firmly above my head.

“Cole?” I repeated.

“Could you put some clothes on?” he said, his voice clipped.

I glanced down at myself, not remembering what I had dragged on before falling into bed.
Huh?
No wonder he was acting all strange. I was clad in my bra and panties and nothing else. My stomach sunk as my throat tightened.
He was asking me to get dressed, not ripping the rest of my clothes off…

“Tasha?”

I folded my arms over my chest. If he didn’t like the view then he could get the hell out. This was
my
bedroom, for the duration of my stay anyway. “What do you want, Cole?”

His gaze snapped to mine, and what I saw there took my breath away like a sucker punch to the gut. Need blazed in his eyes, burning heat, liquid, and churning in the green depths. “Okay, I give up,” he whispered, his eyes flicking heavenward.

Within seconds I was pinned against the wall, his mouth hot and wet and hard against mine. One hand cradled my head, the other snaked around my waist to hug my hip, pulling me hard against him.

“
…mate…
” His low growl was muffled, the word pressed to my lips.

I could feel his cock pressed between us, thick and ready, rubbing against the heat flaring in my core. My hips jutted out, urging him forward, wanting him to possess me, wanting everything he offered.

He groaned against my mouth, sharp teeth biting and tugging on my bottom lip. “Tasha—”

“Yes?” My reply was a breathy moan, my hands grasping and tugging at his shirt. His scent surrounded me, earthy and rich and male. His sheer size overwhelmed me. He was everywhere, blocking out the world.

He hesitated, his next groan sounding suspiciously like one of defeat.

I swallowed his groan, mashing our lips together in a clash of teeth and tongue, lashing and seeking, silencing whatever he felt the need to say. I didn’t want to know—didn’t
need
to know. Couldn’t he see? Life could be amazing if we didn’t judge every single action, analyze every little reaction.

Let me believe in happy ever after, just for a short while,
I pleaded silently with him, using my body to convey my words, my wants, my desires.

“Tasha…” he murmured my name as he pulled away, his eyes cloudy with desire.

I had already decided I was leaving. There was no point putting off the inevitable. Why couldn’t he give me this one night of perfection, and then maybe, just
maybe
, I could walk away. “No,” I whispered, trying to tug his head back down.

It was like pushing a boulder up a hill. Immovable.

Bracing his hands on the wall on either side of me, he took a deep breath. Then another.

For good luck?
I silenced the snarky voice inside my head with a swift kick. There’d be time for that later.

“I came to ask you to come to the control room with me.”

“Control room?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to cross my arms and shield my half-nakedness.

His eyes flickered from my face, darting down my body in a long, languid glide. “
Fuck,
Tasha. You take my breath away.” He sounded shell-shocked, like he couldn’t believe it.

My nipples stiffened, the lace of my bra scratchy and uncomfortable against my heated skin. “Don’t look at me like that,” I whispered.

“Like what?” His voice was a low rumble.

“Like you want me.”

“Believe me when I say I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in the world.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. “Then why? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“Give me another chance to prove it to you. I know I’ve fucked things up, I know I’ve acted like an asshole, but give me just a little more time.” His eyes pleaded with me, the words coming out of his mouth everything I’d been waiting and hoping for. He stroked a finger down my cheek, the corner of his lip quirking. “We could be good together, you and me.”

“Cole—”

“Don’t answer now. Just think about it. I’m not going anywhere, and if I have to, I’ll follow you to your job, and the one after. Natasha Silk’s own personal bodyguard. I like it.” He let out a wry chuckle.

His words were the wakeup call I’d needed, smothering the hope that had sparked. The declaration now meant nothing. Would he want me without the fame? Not Natasha Silk, but just plain, old, boring Natasha Sands. A part of me yearned to take that leap of faith, to trust him not to hurt me—
again
—but the cynical part of me demanded that I protect myself. I had been betrayed by so many people whispering empty promises, using me then discarding me when they had what they wanted.
Like Cole had when he’d walked away.

“Tasha?” He sounded unsure of himself, completely unlike his usual cocky self.

“How can I believe you? After everything we’ve been through, how you’ve acted, you expect me to just accept it all?”

He jerked as though my words were a physical slap. “I know it seems like that, but I had—”

“I don’t care what your reasons were. You screwed me then walked away. What can you possibly say to me that would excuse your behavior? Are you dying? Sick?” I shook my head, more to convince myself than him.
I was doing the right thing, protecting myself.

“No. But—”

“But I should forgive you?”

“I thought...
Shit.
If you’d just listen.” He splayed his hands out, beseeching me.

“Go on then.”

His phone chimed, signaling a message. He snarled at the small screen, frustration pouring off him. “We don’t have time, not now. I’ll tell you everything after, and then you can decide. Will you hear me out after?”

After would be too late. I would be gone.
But I nodded, pushing through his arms to grab a pair of pants off the chair. Tugging them on, I shrugged into a sweatshirt, zipping it up. “After what, exactly?”

Cole’s face had softened with relief. “You’ll see. Come on, you won’t want to miss this.”

T
asha had acted normally
, well, as normally as could be expected given the circumstances. And she’d agreed to my request. On the surface, it all appeared good, but I was trained in this. Sniffing out lies and emotions—it was what I did. And I had the bond feeding me information. Tasha was lying to me.

I shoved the knowledge to the back of my mind. We were going to talk later, and I’d get to the bottom of whatever it was that was holding her back. We were true mates, and we could get through this, whatever
this
was. If we didn’t… then I would have to come to terms with the fact that I had destroyed my only chance at happiness.

I took a deep breath, filtering the simmering emotions and locking them away.

“In here,” I murmured, pushing open a door.

Tasha slipped past me, her continued silence since leaving the room unsettling me more than I’d like to admit.

Focus!

Following her inside the room, I clicked the door shut, sealing us in.

“What is this place?” she said, turning around slowly, taking it all in. The room was an armory, among other things, filled to the brim with every piece of equipment an operative could want. Tactical equipment, firearms, high-tech gadgets—it was a motherfucking playground enforced in triple-strength steel. It was a perfect lockbox that just happened to be the size of a large garage.

Greg swung around in his chair, his face glowing with barely constrained enthusiasm. “Welcome to the control center. This is where the magic happens.” He indicated the large spread of monitors on the desk.

“Is that—?”

Greg pointed at the monitor she’d indicated, double tapping the screen. “Abel, yes. And Vin’s out there too.”

“Why?”

“Ask your man. He’s the one orchestrating all of this.” Angel spoke up for the first time. He was sprawled on a couch in the far corner of the room, giving every indication of a man at ease. That was, if you didn’t know him. From here I could see that he was at about an eight out of ten on the scale of pissed off.

Scar leaned over and thumped him on the arm, flicking a grin at her sister in solidarity. “He can’t help being an ass. It’s written into his Alpha-hole genes.”

“What’s going on?” Tasha directed her question at me this time.

“Take a look at monitor two,” I murmured.

She leaned over Greg’s shoulder, her hair swinging loose in waves. “What am I looking for?”

I stifled an inappropriate groan at the sight of her denim-clad ass swaying right in front of my eyes. “Keep watching…”

Seconds passed, a frown creasing her forehead as she stared at the screen. Then she blinked, astonishment deepening the furrows. “Is that—?”

I nodded. “Hello, Jorge,” I murmured. “Welcome back.”

* * *

I
watched
with mounting fascination as my co-star crept out of the bush clad head to toe in black, soft moonlight playing on his face and highlighting his look of grim determination. He exited off the screen and appeared on the next one.

“What’s he doing?” I watched him creep up the steps to the house, his shoulders hunched as he reached for the door.

Then he was inside.

Cole reached around me and tapped a screen, indicating where Jorge was now. He was crossing the dimly lit hall. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, his face tilting as he glanced upward.

“Don’t even think about it. You haven’t got the guts, bottom-feeding maggot,” Cole growled behind me.

“Of course he won’t,” Angel scoffed, crowding around the desk. “Look, he’s on the move.”

“Will someone please explain what’s happening?” I asked again, my tone sharp with confusion.

“Jorge fell for the bait. He’s here to see Mr. No-Name Assassin.”

I glanced at Cole, then back at the screen. Jorge was heading straight for the basement door, his path not deviating.

“Why—?” My question died on my lips as reality stared me in the face. “No…” The denial came out as a whisper, lacking substance. Because I knew he was right. It had been Jorge. Everything from the threatening letters, to the poison and explosion, to the assassin trying to kill me, Jorge had set it up. “Why did he do it?”

An arm slid around my waist, hugging me against a firm, unyielding chest. “Don’t cry, Tasha. He’s not worth it.”

I looked up at Cole, soaking in his warmth. I felt cold, so damn cold. “I’m not crying...” His features swam before my eyes. “Dammit!” I swiped at my tears, brushing them away. “I don’t understand. Why would he do it? Before this job we’d never even met! Why would he hate me enough to have me killed?”

“I’m pretty sure I know why, but I’m hoping we can get it on tape for the police.” Cole’s voice was grim as he turned his attention back to the monitors.

Jorge had reached the prisoner’s cell and had paused, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

“Poor chap looks like he’s about to have a heart attack,” Vin spoke from behind us, his British accent sounding even more clipped than usual.

“You’re meant to be outside.” Cole didn’t even bother to turn around, his gaze riveted on the screen.

“Abel’s got it under control. You know how he gets. I thought I’d shift back and wait in the hallway, give our uninvited guest a little surprise if he decides to run for it.”

“Okay.”

At Cole’s affirmative, I heard Vin turn to leave. “Vin—” I broke off, heat flooding my cheeks when I found myself face-to-face with a very naked Vin. I gulped, not knowing where to look, finally settling on his nose.

“Wise choice,” Cole whispered in my ear, sending shivers racing down my spine.

“Thank you,” I eventually blurted out. It had been a while since I’d lived with a pack and I’d forgotten about their blasé attitude toward nudity.

Vin winked at me. “Don’t mention it,” he called over his shoulder as he left the room.

A loud sigh sounded from Scar’s corner of the room. “It would be a waste,” she murmured.

I considered her. “Okay, I’ll bite. What would be a waste?”

She turned in her chair to face me, her face all seriousness. “To not appreciate such a fine ass! That ass needs worshiping. I wouldn’t mind a bite…or two.”

Greg coughed, the sound suspiciously like a strangled growl.

Scar’s eye’s widened, her lips parting in what looked like shock. Then the corner of her mouth tilted up in a pleased smirk.

“He’s in.” Angel’s words tugged me back to the screen.

“Flick the sound on, Greg,” Cole ordered.

I realized belatedly that his arms were still locked loosely around my waist, and that he hadn’t let go.

And that I didn’t want him to.

Greg jabbed a switch and Jorge’s voice filled the room.

“You let yourself get caught. What kind of assassin are you?”
he sneered, pacing back and forth in front of the prisoner.

The hunched-over man slowly lifted his head, one pale blue eye squinting in the shadowy light. The other eye was sealed shut, a bloody, puffy mess. Blood coated his cheeks, and his lips were swollen and cracked. He leaned forward, his shoulder straining against the ropes that bound him to the chair.

“You shouldn’t have come here,”
he hissed, spitting bloody phlegm onto the floor.

“I had to come here, to fix the mess that you’ve gotten us into. I can’t have you—”

“I haven’t talked, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m a professional,”
the man snapped back.

Jorge stopped in front of the other man, his face hardening into a mask of self-pity.
“I’ve got to protect myself. I’ve got too much to lose. If they offered you enough, you’d break, and God knows that bitch has enough money.”
He paused, seemingly lost in thought.
“I have a plan.”

“They know you’re here…”

“Be quiet, I’m thinking. They don’t know anything. They’re idiots, the whole lot of them. Just a bunch of thugs that probably don’t have more than one brain cell between them.”

“You’re underestimating them—”

“Muscle-bound idiots, all of them! You included! I was going to free you and let you finish the job, but on second thought, maybe that’s not a good idea…”
He narrowed his eyes, his hand reaching inside his jacket to pull out a large knife.

The blade glinted in the glare of the flickering light. He turned it in his hand, face drawn in thought.

The other man leaned forward as far as his bindings allowed.
“Free me then. I’ll finish what you paid me for.”

“No.”
Jorge had barely uttered the word before he drove the knife into the man’s stomach. Pulling it out, he stabbed again.

A sickening wet sound filled the room. I flinched from the screen, burying my face against Cole’s chest. A hand stroked my back, moving in soothing circles.

“He’s on the move,” Greg snapped out.

“That wasn’t what I expected,” Cole murmured. He sounded concerned.

I tilted my head back. “What did you expect?”

“For him to try and free the assassin. I didn’t think he had it in him to do the dirty work himself.”

I pulled my shoulders back, pushing my squeamishness away. “So, what now?”

“He’s heading upstairs,” Greg reported.

I felt Cole tense against me.

I grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “What do you need me to do?”
No way was I letting Jorge get away with this.

“He needs you to be bait,” Scar eventually said, breaking the silence.

“He’s checking every room on the first floor,” Greg’s voice was filled with tension.

“I can do that.”
At least, I think I can.

“We need his confession. He hasn’t mentioned your name yet. Without it, a lawyer might be able to get him off. On your charges, at least,” Greg said, glancing away from the monitor.

“No! I can get a confession out of him,” Cole ground out, his tone final.

“And how will that look to a jury?” I whispered. “Why do you want this to go to court anyway? I thought shifters dealt their own form of justice, an eye for an eye?”

“We do, most of the time. But Cole thought you’d prefer it this way.” Angel didn’t sound impressed.

“Making allowances for human squeamishness?” I mused.

Cole looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny. “Say the word and I’ll take him out. Put an end to this,” he murmured, his eyes glowing vivid green, a tic working in his jaw.

I searched my heart for guidance, for what was right. Jorge had tried to kill me, and had nearly succeeded. Cole had been hurt more than once. I wanted him to suffer, to pay for what he had done. Did I want him dead?
Maybe,
a little voice whispered in my ear.

“Tasha, what do you want me to do?” Cole asked again, his voice strained, his arms tightening around my waist.

“I’m thinking, give me a second. And, wait a second, you have a
camera
in my bedroom?” Heat flooded my face.

“He’s nearly finished with the first floor,” Greg warned. “Only two more rooms to go and then he’ll be moving up to the third floor. And don’t worry, it hasn’t been switched on since you arrived,” he added as an afterthought.

Thank God for that!
I banished memories of naked skin and Cole rising above me to the back of my mind.

Dragging my mind back on task, I considered my options. I wanted Jorge to suffer, and if I let Cole kill him, it would be over too quickly. But dragging him through a big public trial would mean more publicity, something I had planned to avoid. Was Jorge’s humiliation and shame worth it?

“Tasha, we need an answer…”

I shrugged off Angel’s gentle prod.

He would be ruined, never able to work again. We had him on murder, but was it enough? I wanted him to pay for what he had done to
me
.
If he hadn’t tried to kill you, you’d never have met Cole…
Okay, I wanted answers then. Strange as it might seem, someone wanting to kill me for no reason grated on me.

“I’ll do it. I want him to go to prison for a long time. He deserves to rot in jail.” The words had barely left my mouth before Cole was dragging me out of the room.

“We have minutes until he reaches the third floor. We can talk once we’re in your room,” he growled.

Something tipped me off to the fact that he wasn’t completely happy with my decision. Maybe it was the fact that his face was set in a grim scowl, his muscles strained and bunching under his shirt?

We dashed down the corridor. Pushing open the door to my bedroom, we slid inside.

Cole tapped his ear, then turned to me. “He’s five doors away. We need a plan.”