Guardian (Wolf Shifter Romance): Reckless Desires (Alpha Protectors Book 1) (6 page)

“
C
ut
!” The director’s voice boomed out over the set.

Rolling my shoulders back, I cut across the grass to where makeup had set up a tent. Snagging a bottle of water off a passing crew member, I swallowed, long and greedy, the cold liquid easing the scratch in my throat brought on by hours of constant shooting.

“Natasha!”

I quashed the flinch, rearranging my face into one of cool neutrality. “Jorge, how are you? I haven’t seen you on set today.” Not that I’d been looking.

A well-muscled man appeared at my side, shortening his stride to fall into step with me. “I’ve been shooting a scene downtown. Did you miss me?” His words were smooth and practiced. He was a man who expected to be missed. He was, after all, Jorge McNeil, famous Hollywood superstar.

I slid him a sidelong glance, noting how he wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were scanning the crowd.
Looking for his next fan lucky enough to join him in his trailer, no doubt.
No change there. “Of course I missed you, Jorge.” My reply was rote, expected. I had played this game for many years now; I didn’t even have to think about it. “Our scene together is next, right?” I flicked through the call sheet in my hands, finding the right page.

Peering around me, his hands came to rest on my shoulders as he cocked his blond head, nodding in exaggerated agreement.

Posing for the cameras and fans.

“It should be fun, don’t you think?” He leered at me, his overly-whitened teeth flashing in the late afternoon sun.

He resented me, I knew that. I also knew the reason why. Not only did I command more money for this job, something the crew hadn’t been able to keep to themselves for more than two minutes, I’d also refused to go to bed with him. What I didn’t know was which annoyed him the most. The fact that I was a mere model or the dent to his ego?

I made a noncommittal sound, a cross between a murmur and a clearing of my throat while nodding vaguely.

A large shadow fell over us, blocking out the lingering warmth.

Jorge looked up, then up some more. The poor man liked working with me for many reasons, the first being my coloring. He liked to say my darkness was a perfect foil for his blondness. The other reason? I was short. And so was he.

“Jorge, this is my security.” I didn’t look at Cole. Why should I? He hadn’t looked me in the eye since he’d walked out last night. No, he preferred to stare at a spot right above my head.

Jorge ignored him, which didn’t surprise me. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and leaned in even closer. “Should we practice our lines?”

His breath was hot on my cheek, with wafts of stale garlic saturating the air. Resisting the urge to shrug him off, or worse yet, give him a shove, I smiled sweetly. “I don’t think we need to practice. I’ll see you on set.” Sliding out from under his arm, I strode off to the tent, leaving both men staring after me. I knew Cole wouldn’t be far behind. After all, I was his job.

Only
his job.

I ignored the tightening in my chest and slid into a chair, closing my eyes for a touch-up.

* * *

I
’d been following
her around all day, forced to watch her for hours. I kept telling myself if was the job, that I wasn’t indulging temptation.
Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.

The guys were stationed at the outer perimeter, with Greg coordinating the surveillance on his super computer. The man was a super geek, in love with his high-tech gadgets. He was the best at what he did, just like we all were.

My eyes flicked back to the tent in which she had disappeared in a flounce of fabric. This morning, the Natasha I’d brought to the set had been
my
Natasha. Or
Tasha
as I’d started to call her in the privacy of my mind. Then she had morphed into Natasha Silk before my eyes, emerging from the tent with smoky-black eyes and tumbling hair, her curves crammed into the fabric of her costume. But it hadn’t just been her appearance. Her mannerisms had changed: the way she tilted her head, the flick of her fingers, the guarded look in her eyes and her practiced smile. Hence the
Tasha
versus
Natasha
argument.

But, man, could she act. She’d just finished an action sequence, though why the hell there needed to be an action sequence to advertise perfume, I didn’t have a fucking clue, but there had been no body double for her. She had thrown every kick, taken every fake punch, and dodged every fake bullet herself. All while wearing silk.

Torn silk by the end of the scene.

I had nearly stormed onto the set when a man had grabbed her shoulder, ripping her dress.

I had wanted to rip his head off.

And then the director had called cut.
Lucky guy.

And now I was waiting outside the tent again. I tapped my ear, activating the earpiece. “Check in.”

“Clear.”
Abel.

“All quiet.”
Vin.

“Secure.”
Greg.

“Wow, there are some smoking hot—”

I cut him off, grinding my teeth together. “Professional, Angel.”

“Sorry, boss. Everything A-Okay here.” I could hear his smirk loud and clear.

Tapping out, I forced myself to relax. Which was kind of hard with the attention I was attracting—
had
been attracting all day. Cameras snapped in my direction, whispers and giggles ringing in my ears. An ache started in a rear molar, probably from the amount of grinding I’d been doing all day.
Which idiot decided on an open set?
Though, given the location, there wasn’t much they could do about fans hanging around. We were shooting outside, and though part of the park was closed off for filming, there were plenty of people happy to hang around and enjoy the sunny day.

A gasp rolled through the crowd, snagging my attention.
What—?
My jaw nearly hit the ground as Natasha sashayed past me. And this was definitely
Natasha,
her eyes blank as she ignored the catcalls from the crowd.

I blocked her with an arm, spinning her around to shield her body from the crowd. “You can’t go out like that!” I didn’t know where to look. I couldn’t touch her without my hand grazing heated skin. Her ample curves were precariously covered by the tiniest black swimsuit I’d ever seen. Hell, it wasn’t even a swimsuit. It had more bits cut out than sewn together. Grabbing the robe that hung off her shoulders, I tugged it together, tying it in a knot.

She stood still, letting me manhandle her. Then she murmured, her words barely audible, “Have you finished?”

I gave the knot one last tug, making sure it was secure, and nodded, adding a grunt when her eyebrow shot up. Her eyes darkened, swirling with an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint. Didn’t
want
to figure out. She sashayed away without a backward glance.

Mutters of disappointment rose from the crowd, as well as more than a few disparaging remarks thrown in my direction.

Whatever.
My blood was still boiling, the image of her seared into my retinas.

“Are you actually going to follow her, or should one of us take over?” Greg’s voice sounded in my ear, a little too eager for my liking.

“I’ve got it,” I snapped, his responding laugh nearly deafening me.

“Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say.”

I bit back the snarl welling in my throat as I marched over to the lake, tracking Natasha’s white robe easily.

I halted at the perimeter. The director called for silence on the set. With deft fingers, Natasha untied the robe, passing it to a crew member. I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my chest. Then I swallowed again, trying to force the saliva back into my mouth.

She walked into the lake, her fingers trailing ripples on the smooth surface, the water lapping at her thighs and her ass.

“Right there, Natasha,” the director called. She paused to face him, then crouched down, submerging herself.

“Action!”

She rose up from the water, beads cascading off tanned, smooth skin, pooling in the valley between her breasts. Her nipples beaded beneath the thin, black fabric as her hands rung water from dripping-wet hair. Her lashes were downcast, her brow drawn in a small frown, her lips parted slightly in a pout.

She visibly jolted, her eyes widening at the sight of a man striding toward her, his jeans ripped and torn, his bare chest coated with blood and dirt. “I thought you had left?”

“I’m never leaving you,” Jorge called out, in my opinion clearly enjoying his part a little too much judging from the heat in his eyes.

Directed at my mate…

He waded into the water, not stopping until he reached her.

No. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.

He crushed Natasha to his chest, his mouth coming down to claim hers.

She gasped, her arms winding around his neck as—

“Cut!”

Eyes flew to me.

“What? Who?” The director spluttered, his face deepening into a startling shade of red.

Fuck.
Only one thing for it. “She’s finished for the day,” I growled, fixing my eyes on the smaller man.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her wade toward me. The water was still rolling off her, beads still gathering...

I had to turn my head to physically rip my eyes away. My eyes landed on Jorge. The man’s eyes were burning into her, his gaze undressing her as I watched. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips.

I took a step forward. A hand landed on my chest. I looked down, my lips peeling back from my teeth. The hand started to shake, but didn’t move.

Jorge was moving, catching up with Natasha. His hand reached out, snagging her around the waist.

I grabbed the hand restraining me, twisting it back and around. A deep cry echoed in my ears.

“Shit! What are you doing, Cole?” Angel hissed in my ear.

My vision narrowed until only Natasha and Jorge existed. “Take your hand off her.” The voice didn’t sound like mine. My wolf was shifting my vocal chords.

“Cole?” She blinked at me once, then looked down at the hand on her waist. “Jorge, you might want to take a step back,” she muttered under her breath.

“We need to finish filming. Fire your security. He’s out of line. Who does he think he is?” Jorge sneered, his gaze raking over me with a look that obviously found me lacking.

Her mate
, my wolf snarled deep inside of me, his claws raking at my skin. “I’ll give you one last chance to take your hand off her…”

“Or what? You’ll
make
me? You can’t touch me!”

I lurched forward.

“Cole, stand down!” Greg snapped out. “Guys, we have a problem.”

“You think I can’t see that?” Angel snapped back, his breath thundering in my ear.

“Almost there,” Vin added.

“Cole!” Natasha’s voice cut through the white noise. Grabbing my arm as I reached her, she twisted away from Jorge, plastering herself to my chest. “Look at me,” she demanded, her voice low.

My wolf flashed into my eyes and I averted them quickly. My chest strained with every sucked in breath, my skin tingling from her touch. Water soaked into my boots, creeping up my legs, plastering denim to skin.

“Cole, Look at me.”

I couldn’t, not with my wolf so close to the surface. What would she think?

A small hand cupped my jaw firmly, nails scraping across stubble.

A shudder ran down my spine at my mate’s touch.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this.” She wasn’t talking to me. Her words were directed over my shoulder.

What the fuck had I done?
I’d lost it in front of everyone. “I... Tasha…” I couldn’t explain. She wouldn’t understand.

“We need to talk.”

She was right, we did. Leaning down, I scooped her up into my arms, her damp skin cold against my chest. Not meeting anyone’s eyes, I started to run.

“Stand down, guys.” Greg’s words echoed in my ears as I ripped the earpiece off and tossed it to the ground.

F
aces blurred together
as we ran, or rather as Cole ran, his face drawn in rigid lines and arms cradling me tight. We reached the edge of the park and he didn’t stop, his long legs scaling the small hill then shooting into the woodlands that created a boundary between the park and the city edge.

“Cole?”

He didn’t look at me, or acknowledge me at all.

But he did slow down.

“Cole, stop.”
Why wouldn’t he look at me?
I tilted back, trying to see his eyes.

“Stop wriggling,” he grunted, one large hand moving to palm my ass and sending heat thrumming through my core.

Did he know what he did to me?

He sucked in a deep breath, grinding to a sudden halt.

Emerald green eyes flashed at me, glowing bright in the shadows of the trees. He made a strangled noise, my only warning before his mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue thrusting between my lips.

Seconds later, I was flat on the ground, the weight of him resting heavy in the cradle of my hips, his hands smoothing over my face as he savaged my mouth.

Twining my leg around his hip, I arched into him, heat crashing through me, my fingers digging into his back.

“Cole!” I gasped out as he nipped at my neck, his tongue swirling lazy circles down to my chest.

Twigs dug into my bare back, scraping against my skin as I rocked against him, his cock thick and hard through his jeans, pressing and promising.

His teeth found my nipple through the thin fabric, grazing and tracing the delicate skin.

I hooked my fingers into his waistband, tugging at the infuriating obstruction.

He groaned, lifting away, then the sound of a zipper sliding free reached my ears.

Yes!
I reached down, but he grabbed my hand, pinning it above my head. His mouth moved to my other breast as his knees pushed my legs wide.

He wasn’t looking at me.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging him up.
I needed him to look at me.

He resisted, sucking an aching nub into his mouth, his hand burrowing between my legs and sliding underneath the damp fabric to find my pussy. A thick finger speared me, sliding deep inside.

Pleasure coiled inside of me as he stroked me higher, the world fading into obscurity, my soft moans deafening in the silence.

But he’s still not looking at you
, the small voice inside my head nagged, getting louder with each thrust of his hand, each tug of his mouth.
When would he look at me? After?

The building heat spluttered, fading as a chill settled over me, chasing away the passion.

Giving his head a final tug, I forced his eyes up.

* * *

M
y mate
… Her scent surrounded me, burying me. Her body caressed me, holding me. I was lost. In
her
.

I can’t stop!
A voice screamed at me, trying to tell me something.
What?
I should stop. I shouldn’t be doing this.

Why?
It felt good. Right. So why should I stop? We were meant to be together. Fate had decided. Who was I to refuse?

That tugging again, her fingers ripping at my scalp.
I can’t look at her. I can’t let her see the wolf.

Why? She needs to know,
my wolf offered.

But she won’t understand.

He growled inside my head, urging me on.
Maybe she will?

I let her draw me up until I met her gaze. Dark lashes framed eyes blurry with lust, cheeks flushed with passion, and lips swollen and well-loved.

My wolf howled inside of me, his approval loud and clear. It didn’t matter to him that she didn’t have a wolf. She was ours, just as we were hers.

No!

I slammed on the brakes, hard. I couldn’t do this. I had promised myself.

I scrambled to my feet, backing away.

Her eyes fell to my groin, and I tucked myself away, gritting my teeth against the pain.

“Tasha…” I didn’t know what to say. The way she was looking at me... confused and hopeful. Scared. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

Her quiet acknowledgment rocked me back. “You do?”

Sitting up, she nodded. Smoothing her hair back, she pulled a twig free, then another, not saying a word. She was waiting for an explanation.

“I couldn’t stand his hands on you.” Just thinking about it brought the fury roaring back. My hands clenched into fists as my claws shot out and pierced my palms.

“I can see that.” She nodded at my hands, her lips twisting in a smirk.

One I’d like to kiss right off those lips.
I took another step back, putting more space between us.

Hurt flitted through her eyes, but was quickly masked. “So, what now? I have a job to do. We’re due to finish shooting in less than two weeks.”

There is was again—two weeks. I ignored her question, refusing to think about her returning to the set.
To him.
“And what happens in two weeks?”

Rolling a twig between her fingers, her lips pressed together to form a thin line. Then she shrugged, the action looking forced. “Life goes on. I move on.”

“You’ll go back home?”
Where is home?
I wanted to ask, but didn’t.

“Maybe?” She didn’t sound sure. “I don’t have a home, not really. I go where I’m told.”

I had an unusual talent, one that made me very good at my job. I could
smell
lies. And her scent had changed, souring slightly. And she wasn’t looking at me. “Natasha—”

“I liked it when you called me
Tasha
.” Her voice was wistful, her gaze still riveted on the twig twirling in her hand.

So did I. Too much.
“Tasha, what are you planning?”

Brown eyes clashed with mine. “Nothing.” She jumped to her feet, brushing herself off. “We should get back. People will be wondering where we’ve got to.”

“Tasha…” I tried again, catching her arm as she brushed past me.

She paused, her throat moving as she swallowed hard. “I can’t just disappear into the woods with a man for hours. People will talk.”

“Let them talk,” I muttered.

“That would be fine,
if
there was something for them to talk about.” Her chin jutted out in silent challenge as she stared at me. Daring me.

My turn to swallow. “I... I can’t.”

“I know,” she whispered, pulling free of my hold and walking away.

And, hating myself, I let her go.