Driving Force (4 page)

“Don’t discount Viking berserkers,” said Ian. “Before they flew off into that blind rage, they could be cunning as all hell.”

Kurt looked around at the group. “That’s why I called you all here. I figured you should know what was happening. I have no idea how much trouble he can cause, but I want you to be careful, look out for each other. Look out for the humans as well. We don’t know what his intentions are and I don’t want anybody getting hurt. He’s a lion and that makes him Lowe responsibility. We’ll try to bring him in where we can talk, maybe get him to see the way things are. The rest of you keep your heads down and stay out of it.”

“And hope that the Gate doesn’t open again anytime soon,” muttered Abel as the meeting started to break up, some of them leaving and some sticking around to socialize.

Ian was thinking that maybe Arrhan was the lion who had sent Sierra off the road. Fresh out of the Gate, he wouldn’t have known about cars or how fast they could move.

“You doing anything the rest of the night?” Nick purred at Maud.

She grinned at him. “You…up for something, tiger? I’ve gotta bodyguard Kurt home, but then I’m all yours if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested.”

“Damn,” muttered Simon to Ian. “I had hopes in that direction.”

“Try tomorrow.” Ian shrugged. “Maud’s favored us before. She will again.”

“Don’t forget the cheetahs are having a ‘come one, come all’ tonight in that field behind Twyla’s place,” said Abel softly behind them. “All-nighter and it’s not even midnight yet.”

“Lead on, MacDuff!” Simon grinned, misquoting happily.

Ian went too. The cheetahs knew how to party and were the second largest clan after the lions. Their several unaffiliated females harbored a distinct preference for the Raeder boys that all three brothers had capitalized on in the past. Ian wasn’t interested in that right now, but the music, dancing and booze would provide a very pleasant distraction for the night.

The Gevlin property was several miles out of town, which was a good thing since the blare of the music and the roar of so many voices would certainly have drawn complaints if there had been any neighbors. The property itself covered over a thousand acres, since cheetahs liked to run, but the house was set close to the highway and the party was being held just behind it in the open ground that stretched to the forest. They parked at the end of the slew of cars sprawled along the shoulder of the highway, then headed around the side of the house.

“Humans here,” muttered a cheetah male as they passed him.

That meant, “Don’t shift while they’re around.” No problem there. Cheetahs tended to throw a party whenever they felt like it and hadn’t cared that it wasn’t the weekend and tomorrow was a working day. The humans would leave or be encouraged to leave by two or three in the morning, then whatever Shifters remained—those who didn’t have to work the next day—could let the fur fly.

The place was jammed with gyrating bodies and the Shifter DJ had turned both the bass and the volume up to the max so that the ground beneath their feet throbbed with the beat. From the looks of things, Ian estimated there must be over a hundred people there.

Two cheetah females turned up in front of them and lifted their brows at Abel. “You here to make trouble, cop?”

“Off duty,” Abel protested. “Swear!”

They smiled and attached themselves to him, one on either side. “We’ll make sure of that.”

Simon and Ian laughed as they watched him being led off, a huge grin on his face.

“He’s set for the night, the lucky bastard,” said Simon. “Threesomes are fun. Where’s the bar?”

“North by northeast.”

Simon had barely enough time to grab a beer before being snatched into the middle of a bevy of energetic Shifter females. Ian shook his head at the hands reaching out to him and moved to lean on the end of the bar instead, sipping at his drink. He always preferred to case out his surroundings first.

Then he saw her. Sierra.

Dancing to the music, the black silk of her hair whipping around her shoulders and her lithe body gyrating to the beat. She was dressed in black leather leggings that could have been painted on and a silky pink top that was nothing but a bib with spaghetti straps crossing her otherwise naked back.

The beer bottle in his hand splintered under the sudden tightening of his grip. He dropped the pieces behind the bar and wiped his hand off on the rag the bartender tossed him.

High school Sierra would never have worn something like that. High school Sierra would never have come to a party as wild as this, or laughed and flirted like this, or moved like this, sexy and sensual.

Looked as though she’d learned a lot in Arizona. And he wanted to kill whatever creep had taught it to her. Also the guys, both human and Shifter, who were surrounding her now with predatory looks on their faces.

He felt the points of his fangs suddenly prick the sides of his lower lip. He yanked them back in with an effort. None of his business who had taught her or even whom she had come with tonight.

“Hey, baby.” Twyla Gevlin wound an arm around his neck. “Having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Who you looking at? Found your target for the night?” She followed his gaze. “Oh, no, no, no, Ian. Lay off. Just for one night. I want this to be a nice, friendly party, not a cat fight. And that’s what it turns into whenever you and Sierra Wallace are anywhere near each other. The whole town knows that.”

“Not gonna do nothing. Who’d she come with?”

“Cassie.”

Well, that made sense and made him feel a little better. Cassie ran the art gallery that sold Sierra’s work. But Cassie was a Shifter.

“Does she know…?”

“Nah. Not a clue that Cassie’s a cheetah. But they get along, so Cassie brought her.”

Someone grabbed Twyla’s hand and pulled her away into the throng. She went, laughing and already moving to the beat.

“Remember, Ian!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Play nice!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t watch Sierra. So he did, leaning against the bar. Then people got in the way and he lost sight of her. Which was when he found himself stalking her through the crowd. Found himself getting closer and closer, unable to keep away. Ended up right behind her, a millimeter from her back.

That top didn’t allow for a bra. Looking down at her, he could see the points of her nipples through the silky material and the way her breasts moved as she danced. He wanted to feel them moving against him, wanted to feel them crushed against his chest.

Her hair flew outward, brushing like caressing fingers across his face, and his dick went as hard as a rock.

Chapter Two

“Well, look at you,” said an all-too-familiar voice behind her and Sierra spun.

When Cassie had suggested she come along to the party, she hadn’t even thought that Ian Raeder might be here. And of course she should have. He was a party animal, wasn’t he? She felt like kicking herself.

“There goes my night,” she muttered.

“That’s one hell of an outfit, Mouse.”

His face was alight with that vivid mocking laughter that she hated because it always meant he was in the mood for what
he
called playing and
she
called cutting her up.

“Thanks,” she said defiantly. “So glad you approve.”

“Pink. I like pink on you.”

“I’ll have to remember never to wear it again.”

The pointed corners of his lips indented in amusement. “And here I’m trying to be friendly.”

“Friendly. Yeah, right.”

“I was trying to pay you a compliment, Mouse. No hidden agenda. Is that so hard to believe? Nothing to come back and bite you in the ass later. Well, except me,” he added and grinned, long creases slashing down the flat planes of his cheeks. “Just saying I like the way you look.”

And she liked the way he looked in his usual black tee and black jeans, which contrasted so effectively with his pale gold hair. So sexy, dammit. And she wasn’t going to think about that anymore.

“Well, thanks,” she said stiffly.

He was too close and the crush surrounding them kept her from stepping away. She could feel the warmth of his body, smell his clean scent, see the pulse beating in the hollow of his throat and a muscle ticking oddly at the corner of his jaw.

“Arizona taught you a lot. How to dress, how to dance…” His voice dropped into a lazy, raspy purr that she felt right down in her womb. “How to be a woman.”

Her insides melted. God! Was she easy or what? Instinctively she recoiled, her walls coming up.

“How not to be the geek that I was,” she snapped. “Yeah, I’ve changed. Pity I can’t say the same about you.”

“No, I don’t change. But you haven’t changed either, Mouse. Not really. You’ve just let what was already there inside come out.”

She frowned at him, bewildered. “What?”

“The outside matches the inside now, Mouse. You were hot at eighteen, didn’t you know? I saw it when you went to your prom. But then you pulled back and never let it come out again.”

Had she done that? She had felt beautiful on the night of the prom. But she had never really believed it was for more than just that one night and so, yes, she had pulled back. Peter had preferred it that way. Peter had wanted an adoring disciple, not an equal, not a competitor who might outshine him.

She had learned to be herself in Arizona, had spread her wings. And now here was Ian Raeder saying…

Wait. Was he saying he found her hot?

She caught her breath. But this was Ian Raeder and she didn’t trust him an inch.

He was looking down at her, his eyes dark and smoldering. It sent shivers down her spine, made her acutely uneasy, that intense, focused stare.

“I’m sorry for what I said in the car.”

She flushed, remembering what he had said. “Sure you are.”

“I had no call to say it.”

“When has that ever stopped you?” she snapped and turned to push her way free of the crowd. Then she was jerked up short as he hooked a finger through the waistband of her leggings and pulled her back.

“Sierra, wait.”

She struck out behind her at his hand. “Let go!”

He released her hastily. “Look, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“No, you’re not. You’re just setting me up for something.”

“No! Stop. Just stop, okay?”

Sierra found herself hesitating. She scowled at him. “Why?”

“I know things have been lousy between us and it’s mostly my fault. Can’t we start over? Start fresh?”

The worst thing was that she wanted to. Wanted it desperately. But she couldn’t trust him not to pull the rug out from under her.

“Dance with me,” he said.

Oh, no, no. They were playing a slow dance. It was far too much of a risk. God, she had always wondered what it would feel like, that damn sexy, gorgeous bod against hers. The trouble was, she was sure to become addicted to it, because the man was addictive, went to her head like a drug. She stared at him stonily in silent negation.

He shrugged ruefully. “Then let me buy you a drink.”

“No.”

“We could talk. Get to know each other. Baby steps.”

Get to know him? But she didn’t want to know him. He was way too dangerous to know.

“Can’t we be friends?” he said quietly.

Friends? Yeah. But it wouldn’t stay that way. She’d want more. And, knowing the man’s rep, he’d be quite happy to give her more. For a while. Oh, he knew how to play the game. He was a real pro at it. But she wasn’t, for all that she’d learned to stand on her own two feet. She was nowhere near his league.

And then what would happen? She’d get dumped, that’s what. She had thought being dumped by Peter was bad. But it would be worse with Ian, because she wanted him a lot more than she had ever wanted Peter. She realized that now.

“I don’t think it’s possible for us to be friends.”

“Why not?”

Because she was safe when they were fighting. When they were insulting each other and she could be angry at him.

“You’re going to be staying in Wade County,” he continued. “That means we’ll be running into each other. Isn’t it better if we have a truce?”

No, it wasn’t. A truce sounded so reasonable, but it would be disastrous for her. She didn’t dare to soften toward him. Not the least little bit.

She shook her head decisively. “I don’t think so. Being friends is not an option. We make better enemies. I think it should stay that way.”

“Listen…”

“And we don’t have to keep running into each other.”

“It’s a small town, Sierra. It’s inevitable.”

“Nuh-uh. It won’t be. Because the minute I see you, I’m going to head in the opposite direction as fast as I can.” She gave him a cool, tight smile. “If you do the same, things will work out just fine.”

* * * * *

Ian watched her walk away, her back very straight and her head high. Not even a truce. She
really
hated his guts.

Well, what did you expect, Raeder? You made your bed. Now lie in it.

Or get plastered. Yeah, that was a pleasant thought. Definitely had its appeal. So he went and got wasted.

The next day was not so pleasant. Even Shifters were not immune to hangovers and Ian had the
mother
of all hangovers.

Annie made a couple of caustic remarks about his condition, but left him a pot of coffee strong enough to strip the paint off the walls. Ian drank it thankfully, his eyes closed against the sunlight filling the house and stabbing into his brain. If someone would do him the kindness of cutting off his head, he’d be truly grateful. That might stop it from throbbing so agonizingly.

He had gotten to the point where he might possibly be able to stand up without hurling when the long, lanky form of Taylor Weekes, the ranch foreman and Annie’s husband, came into the den. Ian squinted painfully at him. Taylor had on that kind of carefully expressionless face that meant that he was trying not to grin.

“You do remember you’re supposed to pick up that barbed wire today? We need it if you want us to finish off the fencing on the north range.”

Ian sighed. He could, of course, ask Taylor or one of the hands to fetch it, but he had never shirked his responsibilities and damned if he was going to now.

“I’ll go get it.”

He found the heaviest pair of shades he owned, but even though they were supposed to be wraparounds, sunlight still sneaked in around the edges. His eyes slitted nearly shut, he made it to town and got the pickup loaded, then decided to get another cup of coffee before making the trip home. Hair of the dog would have been better, but something warned him not to resort to that right now. Alcohol was a depressant and he still had too much of it in his system, the hangover making the whole world look stale and pointless.

I’m tired
, he thought, slumping into a seat at the coffee house. It was a bone-deep tiredness that was not physical, a depression that had been growing for a long time. He had stopped fighting that feeling now, simply accepted the fact that this emptiness was not likely to change or get better in the future, just had to be endured.

“Thanks, Millie,” he said to the elderly waitress who brought him an extra-large mug of coffee without being asked. They knew him here, just as they knew all the hands in the area.

“Some guy’s been asking around about you,” Millie said under her breath, and he glanced up at her, surprised.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

“Stranger.”

He didn’t have to ask to know that no one had said anything. The whole town, not just the Shifters, automatically closed ranks against outsiders.

“What did he look like?”

“Black hair, yellowish eyes, big, acted kinda weird. I’d have said he was a Lowe ’cause he looks like them, ’cept no one’s ever seen him before.”

Millie was full-human, so wouldn’t know about Arrhan. But that was who it must have been.

“Was he asking about just me or my brothers as well?”

“All of you.”

That didn’t sound good. He wondered what the guy was up to.

“Point him out if you see him, Millie.”

“Will do.” Millie nodded and bustled away.

He pushed his shades higher, wincing as the person at the next table got up to leave and the sunlight she had been blocking stabbed the side of his eye. Then he glanced over and realized it was Sierra, looking unfairly fresh and clear-eyed. But then she had left the party early and unlike him hadn’t spent the whole night wishing she could take back the last decade.

She flicked a cutting glance at him without saying a word. But her silence was eloquent.

“Oh, spit it out, whatever it is,” he snarled. “Don’t hold back.”

“Hung over again, huh? At three in the afternoon. I wonder how the hands take to a boss who’s useless through most of the day.”

“The hands and I understand each other.” Ian shrugged. Nocturnal though the Raeders naturally were, they had made a point of adjusting to a diurnal pattern. The occasional day like today happened, but since each of the Raeders consistently did three times the work of any of the other hands, no one resented it.

“But then Simon’s the responsible one, isn’t he?” she said scornfully. “The one who does the real work.”

“That he is,” he agreed, amused. He was so accustomed to being misunderstood by her that her disdain had no power to sting anymore. He just wished things were different, that was all.

She bit her lip, clearly irritated that she hadn’t gotten to him. Then she shrugged with elaborate carelessness and bent to scoop up the shopping bags at her feet.

“What? No comeback?” he mocked.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Running away already? We’ve barely even started. You’re losing your resilience, Mouse.”

“
I
don’t have time to waste, even if you do,” she snapped and stalked off.

“Pity,” he called after her. “It’s so much fun getting your goat.”

Because anything from her, even hatred, was welcome.

“Way to go, Ian,” said Millie dryly as she topped up his coffee mug. “Why don’t you ever try to charm her the way you do every other gal?”

Yeah, right. The time for that was ten years ago.

“Wouldn’t be quite as entertaining. I like playing games.”

“Games, is it? Seems more like a defensive reaction to me.”

Ian’s hand jerked to a stop in the middle of raising the mug to his lips. Hot coffee slopped over the rim and he cursed, grabbing at a paper napkin.

“Nothing of the sort!”

“Nobody’s noticed but me,” said Millie soothingly.

He gave her an appalled glance, then gulped the rest of his coffee. “Gotta go.”

Shit, shit, shit! If Millie had noticed, maybe other people had too. The day was just getting worse and worse as it went on.

He got back to the ranch and was nearly run over by Simon when he opened the front door. Simon had a suitcase in his hand and city clothes on.

“What the hell?”

“No time to talk,” said Simon hurriedly. “Gotta catch a flight to Wyoming. Mara was in a car crash. Don’t know how bad.”

Ian didn’t like Mara, who had kept Simon dangling on a string for too long. But their own parents had died in a car crash a couple of years back and he knew the fear that must be racking Simon now.

“Right. Go.”

“I haven’t got the accounting for the week done. I’ll do it when I get back.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He gripped Simon’s shoulder reassuringly. “She’s gonna be all right. Stay as long as you like. There’s nothing here we can’t handle. Anything she needs, you get her, whatever her clan says.”