HannasHaven (3 page)

The thought of someone abusing Hanna made him murderous.

“No.” She let out a humorless laugh. “That would make me
damaged goods.”

“What do you mean?”

Instantly, she shut down, her face blanking. She attempted
to rise, but he held her easily.

“I need to finish dusting, Marcus,” she complained.

“There isn’t a speck of dust in this place. I’ve let you
avoid this for weeks, Hanna. Time’s up. You are going to tell me everything.
Now. And if not me, then it’s going to be Rye asking these questions and
believe me, he won’t be doing it so gently.”

Rye was out of patience and Marcus had little left himself.
He’d promised to get the answers they both wanted. Although he’d choose what
exactly to tell Rye and what he’d keep to himself.

Hanna stiffened, her fear an offensive smell he immediately
wanted to extinguish. But he needed her to talk to him. And protecting her from
Rye’s questions was not going to get her to open up.

Hanna’s fingers drummed against her thigh. He didn’t grab
for her hand. She had a right to her nerves.

She stared at the far wall. “They wouldn’t mark me because
they wanted to use me. My Alpha wanted me to mate with someone of their
choosing. He wanted to create a stronger bond with our closest pack. We needed
new blood in the pack, we’d interbred too much and no one was having pups. The
pack was dying. There were only a handful of pups born in the last twenty
years.”

He ran his hand up and down her arms, trying to calm her.

“Were they doing the same with the other unmated members of
your pack?” He couldn’t believe they were forcing people to mate with
strangers.

“No, it was only me. At least to begin with. Females in the
pack had no say in anything. They had to obey their closest male relative. I’m
guessing that my father is the only one who would agree. I’m sure they bribed
him with alcohol. He’d have sold his soul for a bottle of whiskey.”

“So they wanted you to mate with someone from this other
pack?”

“Yes. The werewolf they chose was Reginald.” She shuddered,
her fear morphing to near terror. “He’s horrible, awful. I know he wanted to
hurt me. He told me,” she shuddered and it tore his insides, “he told me that
when I was his he was going to enjoy tying me up and making me bleed.”

Marcus drew her closer.

“You don’t have to mate him now,” he assured her, willing to
promise anything to take away her fear. Her fingers increased the speed of
their tapping. She was fast moving from agitation to hysteria.

“Cooper might make me go back.”

Marcus turned her chin, staring down into her face. “He said
he wouldn’t. Besides, I would never let that happen.”

“He’s your Alpha. You have no say.” But she’d calmed somewhat
at his words. She might not be willing to admit it, but she trusted him.

“Cooper isn’t like your Alpha. He won’t make you do
something that terrifies you and he definitely won’t force you back into an
abusive situation.”

“I wasn’t abused.”

“Weren’t you?” Could he push her further? Marcus pulled her
close and rocked. Shudders racked her slight body. “Shh, baby,” he crooned.
“You don’t ever have to see your father or any of his pack again.”

Hanna turned, burying her head against his neck.

His wolf damn near howled in satisfaction.

Hanna couldn’t believe she was buried against Marcus’ chest,
held tightly in his arms. It amazed her how far she’d come in a few weeks.
Considering that she could barely talk to him for the first week, sitting on
his lap, opening up to him as she had amazed her.

I should move.

But not yet.

“What am I going to do?” She immediately wished she could
take the question back. Her future wasn’t Marcus’ problem. “Sorry, forget I
asked that,” she said quickly. “I didn’t—”

He placed a finger over her mouth. Tingles of arousal raced
up her spine. What would he do if she opened her mouth, licked him, sucked him?

A shiver skittered over her skin, raising goose bumps on her
arms.

“Hanna?” His voice was a deep growl, his eyes burning amber.

“What?”

He shook his head as though to clear it. Suddenly he placed
her on her feet and stood.

“Cooper and Rye are coming back tomorrow,” he spoke
abruptly, his whole body tense. “Listen to what Cooper has to say before you
start worrying.”

Start worrying? If only I could stop.

“I’m going for a run.” He turned away suddenly. She gaped
after him. “Stay in the house.”

With that, he was gone.

What had she said to annoy him? She picked up her duster.
She felt the loss of his touch keenly. Held tightly on his lap, she’d been
secure, warm. Now she felt decidedly cold and alone.

Well, best get used to it.
Soon they’d go their
separate ways.

Sadness enveloped her stomach, making her feel sick. But she
sucked it up and threw herself into her cleaning.

* * * * *

Hours later, after a long run and a shower, Marcus lay on
his bed staring at the ceiling. The smell of roast beef drifted toward him. His
stomach growled.

What the hell am I doing? Lying here, hiding like a
coward from a woman less than half my size.

And what for? Because he couldn’t control his raging desire
to pin her against the nearest wall and fuck her?

With a groan of disgust he rose and left the room, padding
toward the kitchen. Hanna turned from the stove where something bubbled away.
She stared at him, a mix of surprise and relief filling her eyes.

I’m an asshole.

While he’d been busy sulking over his inability to control
his need for her, she’d probably been stressing over what she’d done to make
him act like a snappy bastard.

He sat at the table. “Smells good, Tink.”

Her eyebrows rose haughtily. “Tink?”

His lips twitched. “Tinker Bell is quite a mouthful.”

“I am not a fairy.”

“You remind me of one. I think it’s the way you flit about
all over the place.”

“I do not flit around,” she said, clearly affronted.

There, that’s better.
That lost look, the same one
she’d had when she first arrived, had disappeared from her face.

He never wanted to see her looking that way again.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Roast beef, mashed potatoes and corn. You must be hungry
after your run. You didn’t come in for a snack.”

He heard the question in her voice. He always grabbed
something to replenish his energy stores after changing. “I needed a shower.”

She checked her bubbling pot. “Well, it’s almost ready.”

Picking up the large pot of potatoes, she carried them over
to the sink to drain them. Marcus quickly rose, grabbing the pot from her.

“Let me do that.”

“It’s okay—”

“Hanna,” he warned. “Accept help when it’s offered.” He
drained off the potatoes. “Want me to mash them?”

With an abrupt nod, she handed him the masher and grabbed
the plates to set the table. They worked together in silence, sitting when the
food was laid out.

Marcus forked up some beef, nearly moaning as he ate. “This
is delicious, Hanna.”

She blushed. Damn, she was cute.

“Thanks. Figured you’d be hungry so I made extra.”

She picked at small bits of meat, her plate of food not even
half as big as his. He frowned, realizing something.

“When’s the last time you changed?”

Hanna dropped her fork but promptly picked it up again. She
shrugged.

“You haven’t come running with me since you’ve been here.”

Holding back from changing for too long could be dangerous
to a werewolf’s health. If Marcus went more than a week without changing into
his wolf form, he grew irritable, short-tempered. Even more so than usual.

“You haven’t asked me.”

“Hmm, well next time I’ll be sure to do that, Hanna,” he
drawled. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

“You’re incredibly bossy.”

He grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Grabbing her fork, he dug into her potatoes, dangling it in
front of her mouth. “Want me to make choo-choo noises?”

Hanna burst into laughter and took the fork. “Now that I’d
pay to see.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you know the cost.”

“I don’t have any money, remember?” she teased.

“I’m sure we can work out some sort of payment plan.”

Hanna’s breath caught in her throat at the desire in his
eyes. She dropped her gaze. A few hours ago, he’d grown so annoyed with her
that he’d left the house in a huff. Then he’d hidden in his room.

Now he seemed to be flirting with her. Was he? She didn’t
really have enough experience to know.

Best not to think that way.
Dreaming like that could
lead only to heartbreak. Why would he want her, after all? She had nothing to
offer.

Marcus sat back with a groan. All hint of arousal had faded
from his face. Maybe she’d imagined it.

“That was fantastic, Hanna. What’s for dessert?”

“What makes you think I made dessert?”

He gave her a mock scowl. “No dessert? Woman, I’m a growing
man. I need my dessert.”

“Growing?” She raised a brow. “The only growing you’ll be
doing is outwards if you keep eating dessert.”

He slapped her butt as she rose to grab the plates. The slap
throbbed all the way through her blood. She looked at him in surprise, but he
merely scowled back at her.

“Dessert. Now. And then I want to play some poker.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah. Let’s see whether you’re any good, Tinker Bell.”

* * * * *

“Damn.” Marcus threw down his cards in disgust. Hanna eyed
him carefully, wondering if he was going to blow up at losing for the third
time in a row. Men were funny like that. They’d be surprised when she won the
first hand, admiring when she won the second. After that, they could go one of two
ways. Get angry or sulk.

“Sorry,” she told him. She should have let him win that last
hand.

“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, Hanna. You beat me fair and square.
Damn, you’re good.”

She flushed at the respect in his voice. “You want to play
another hand?”

Marcus leaned back, closing his eyes. “No thanks. I’m beat.”

Hanna took a moment to study him. She hadn’t had many
chances to simply stare at him to her heart’s content. He was always on his
guard, always aware.

He was so masculine, at times it took her breath away. He
didn’t have Cooper’s charisma. He wasn’t darkly handsome the way Rye was. But
his hard, chiseled face held character and strength. Although not as tall as
his brother or his Alpha, he easily outmuscled them, his biceps so thick, she’d
bet she couldn’t even get her hands around them.

As he relaxed in the sofa cushions, she noticed the smaller
details. A few lines around his eyes and mouth, the small scar by his ear, a
freckle on his collarbone.

His pierced ear, shaved head and perpetual five o’clock
shadow only added to his appeal. Sure, he could be scary as hell. When he used
that voice on her, the one that said he meant to be obeyed, she wanted to cave
and give him everything.

Yet there was a heart beneath all that gruffness. And it
could be wishful thinking, but she was pretty sure he liked her.

Suddenly, those piercing green eyes struck her. She blinked.

“Ready for bed?”

“S-sure,” she stuttered, standing. She swayed, feeling off balance.

Marcus frowned. “You okay?”

“Umm, yeah, just stood up too quick.”

Marcus held back his chuckle until she’d fled. His wolf
preened under her attention. The entire time she was studying him, he’d fought
the urge to grab her, roll her under him and show her exactly what happened to little
girls who ate him up with their eyes.

Praising himself for his restraint, Marcus pulled himself
off the sofa. Damn, he was tired. He was too old for this much broken sleep.

Hanna had to be even more exhausted.

She didn’t sleep well, often waking with nightmares and
getting up to clean. As soon as she moved around, he’d awaken. And he was never
able to sleep until she was safely back in bed. She needed her sleep. He didn’t
like the large, black circles under her eyes and she’d lost weight even though he’d
swear she didn’t have fat left on her bones to lose.

But she’d slept last night with him in the room. All night
long, he’d had to resist the urge to jump into bed beside her, and he’d gotten
no sleep with the scent of her permeating the room, her soft breathing tickling
his ears and her arousal stirring his own to an impossible state.

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower,
knowing he’d need some release before entering her bedroom.

Stepping into the shower, he squirted body wash into his
hands and grasped his hard dick. Pumping furiously, he closed his eyes. Hanna’s
face, lit with a smile, floated through his mind.

His balls burned. Tingles raced up his legs, pooling in his stomach.

Seed shot from his jerking cock. He groaned, his legs weakening
with the force of his orgasm. Breathing heavily, he leaned back against the
shower wall.

Eventually he found the energy to turn off the water and,
stepping out, dried himself. In his room, he grabbed a pair of cotton pajama
pants. He hardly ever wore the damn things. The only reason he even owned a
pair was because Laney had bought them for him last Christmas.

The light was off in Hanna’s bedroom. He didn’t bother to
knock.

A shaft of light from the hallway fell across Hanna, who was
pulling a nightgown over her body. Her half-naked body. A pair of cotton
panties covered her pussy but her breasts were on display. Small but perfect,
topped with peach-colored nipples.

Delicious.

“Marcus!” she squeaked as she pulled down her nightgown. Her
face flushed with surprise. “What are you doing?”