Haze of Heat (12 page)

“You think this is funny?” His thick grumble was all indignant male, and it made her laugh until tears streamed from her eyes.

She was shaking her head, choking out words past the maniacal giggles and fell onto the chair in front of the desk. “No. Want. To. I. Cling. Type.”

His brows beetled as he tried to make sense of her rambling. “You didn’t want me to think you were the clinging type?”

Gasping for air, Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

“That’s why you were leaving?”

She nodded, managed to say, “You left me...last night.”

“I thought it better to leave,” he said in a reasonable tone, “than you caught in a private and compromising situation with me.”

Breathing through her mouth, she settled her eyes on him. “So you weren’t embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Of course not!” His sigh was long and low and he moved to crouch in front of her, taking her hand in his and laying them, joined, on her knees. “I like you, Rachel. A lot. I even came back early because I missed seeing you, and no,” he added at her look of disbelief, “those aren’t just pretty words. It’s the truth. Being with you is a privilege, not an embarrassment. Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

Her heart tumbled, falling just a little in love at that moment. “Put it down to misjudgment.” She tried a hesitant smile.

He kissed her, soft and sweet. “No more misjudgments, okay?” At her nod he added, “And this is when you tell me you like me too. So much. In fact, you’re fascinated with me. Adore me. Can’t stand to be away—”

She shoved her forehead against his. “Idiot.”

His grin was as bright as the sun and as wide as the endless sky. “Hopeful idiot.”

When the phone rang behind her, she jolted upright.

Porter groaned. “Now what?” He reached for and checked the readout. “What’s up?”

Rachel could hear Melinda’s anxious voice over the line. “Is Rachel with you?”

His eyes shot to Rachel’s questioning ones. “Yes.”

A slight pause, then, “Good. Both of you need to come to my office. There’s a package here for her.”

“Why do you sound worried, Mom?”

The whoosh of heavy air. “It’s addressed to Evangeline Sterling.”

Chapter Thirteen

When Rachel and Porter stepped into the open office door, her eyes landed on an oblong cardboard container on top of the desk. She didn’t have to be near it to know who it was from. Not if it was addressed to her fictional heroine.

“It came via UPS about thirty minutes ago along with some other packages for the house,” Melinda explained, displeasure hardening her mouth into a firm line.

“Did you recognize the delivery guy?” Porter asked, glowering at the package.

“It was George,” Melinda confirmed. “When Annie saw whom it was addressed to, she immediately contacted me.”

Rome entered the office at that moment, shutting the door behind him. As he strode past Rachel and Porter, he paused, his dark eyes about as warm as an iceberg. He inhaled slowly, switching his flat gaze from Porter to Rachel and back again.

Rachel couldn’t even drum up a silent curse, realizing instantly that the older shifter was scenting sex on the air. Then again, it wasn’t any of his business if she and Porter wanted to wrestle around naked all day long. They were both single adults, and right now there was something more important to worry about.

Porter evidently thought the same because he deliberately placed himself in front of Rachel, blocking her from Rome’s sight. “Problem?”

It was a gritty snarl straight from the throat of his beast. Rather than be irritated at the overt display of protection, Rachel felt a warm glow in her belly. Laying her hands on his back, she went to her tiptoes and peered over Porter’s shoulder.

“Nope.” Rome inclined his head slightly at his younger brother before fixing his eyes on Rachel. “It was shipped directly from a UPS Store in New York.” His tone was that of a leader, solid and commanding. “A quick, cash transaction. Cops are going to check video surveillance, but I doubt that will help. If this guy wore a plumber’s outfit to get into your apartment, chances are he disguised or hid his features from the store cameras.”

A dead end. Moving to Porter’s side, she stared once again at the innocuous box. “How did he find me?” She looked first at Melinda, then Rome, then Porter. “I haven’t paid for anything and you said all my belongings were clean.”

A muscle ticked in Porter’s jaw. “I don’t know, but when I find him I’m going to rip him apart.”

Which did nothing to make her feel safe and cozy at the moment.

“You going to open it?” Unlike Porter, Rome was all cool control.

Rachel shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body. So cold now from the inside out, she shivered. “No.”

“Then you won’t mind if I do.” Instead of reaching for a pair of scissors, Rome raised his right hand, and a single claw popped free.

Rachel jolted in surprise, and Porter was immediately at her back, his hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”

She didn’t know what she was. Dumbstruck, maybe? “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do what? Partially shift?” His thumbs rubbed long, massaging strokes into taut muscles.

“Grandpa can’t.” Her eyes were glued to the way Rome meticulously sliced through the packing tape with that sharp talon. “Of course he’s the only one I’ve seen in his feline form, and that was a long time ago.”

The soothing motion stopped. “What?”

“You forget, I’m not part of a pack, Porter,” she reminded him. “I don’t see this kind of thing on a regular basis.”

His lips pressed against her temple. “I would have thought with your feline curiosity, you would have sought out more of your kind.” A soft brush of his nose along the shell of her ear.

A logical assumption, but not one she’d embarked on until she’d needed help, and been rebuffed. “I did. Only to be given an ultimatum from the pack that exiled my aunt as a traitor to her kind.”

Fingers dug into her shoulders, making her wince. “Sorry.” The pressure eased into a kneading caress. “That alpha’s another asshole pissing me off. I hope you know neither he nor his pack represent the species. Cats might be dangerous and territorial, but we’re also protective. And very, very affectionate.” A gentle roll of his hips set his elongating affection over her bottom. Heat swirled in long, languid pulls, chasing the chill from her blood.

“Strange.” Rome’s comment yanked her back from a slowly rising sexual haze and to the awareness that two other people were still in the room.

Focus
, she chided her wanton half, frowning at how easily Porter could quicken her libido. Shoving all naughty thoughts into a small compartment, she looked at the secondary sealed box Rome pulled from the packing peanuts.

“Not really,” Melinda offered, her hands resting on the back of a visitor chair. Though she appeared relaxed, her fingers dug into the leather. “Extra protection to guard against leakage.”

Sadness covered Rachel’s heart. She hated this. Hated that some creep could affect so many. And just as she did at the hotel when he’d found her there, she’d do again. She’d leave.

To take her mind off that depressing decision, she asked Porter, “Can you do that?”
That
being the way Rome opened the second box in the same manner as the first.

In answer, Porter draped his arms over her shoulders and opened his hands, palms down. Claws shot out from the tip of each finger. “It’s all about control, baby.” The rough edge of his voice smoothed into a thickly suggestive drawl. His heat and scent surrounded her, a sensual cushion that had her sex tingling in desire.

So much for the strength of that compartmental box. It had nothing on Porter’s ability to make her body dance to his tune. Added to that, her body knew his now, and it wanted to reach out and embrace him, and never let go.

“Or in your case,” Melinda chimed in, “it’s all about showing off.”

At that moment, Rome set a clear vase on top of the desk, drawing everyone’s attention. It held three roses; one red, one yellow, and one white. The sight made her want to scream in frustration. As if sensing her distress, Porter’s claws retreated and he soothed his hands down her arms.

“You or me?” She jerked her gaze from the flowers to the plain white envelope dangling by the corner from Rome’s fingertips. As she had no desire to touch with a ten-foot pole anything sent by a fanatical loon, she indicated Rome should go ahead.

From his back pocket he pulled out a pair of light-blue latex gloves, snapped them on, and flipped open the flap. Out came a nondescript card he opened.

“My love, my life, my everything,” Rome read. “Our journey has been long, our trials fierce, but we have overcome the obstacles keeping us apart and soon, so very soon, my darling Evangeline, we will be together again. Forever.”

Bile rose and Rachel thought she might throw up. “I’ll leave tonight.”

“Fuck that,” Porter swore, anger honing his voice into a razor. One muscled arm circled her waist, the other crossed her upper chest, chaining her in place. His mouth came down on her shoulder and nipped sharply at the exposed flesh. “You’ll stay right here.”

His actions were indisputably dominant, possessive. Unyielding. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Sick of men trying to steer her life—first Larry the stalker, then Rand the asshole alpha, and now Porter—Rachel’s temper erupted and spewed free before she could put a cap on it.

“Knock it off.” Red glazed her vision. She punctuated the order by kicking his shin with the heel of her shoe.

He didn’t as much as flinch. “Never.”

Close to seething, she batted at the arms holding her prisoner. “This alpha crap doesn’t work with me.” She warned. “I’ve already told you. You’re not my alpha, my father, or my mate. You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Raw power lashed out, an implacable electric charge that had goose bumps rising on her flesh. An explicit reminder that what stood behind her was no mere man, but one of the most lethal predators to walk the earth. She knew Porter wouldn’t harm her physically, but that didn’t prevent every fiber of her being from going suddenly and absolutely still in heightened caution. Then his teeth closed around her earlobe, making her shiver with acute awareness. “So sure of that?”

The only thing she was sure of, now that she was no longer wiggling to get away, was that there was no malice radiating from him. Anger? Yes. Throwing his power in her face to intimidate her and keep her from defying him? Most definitely, the arrogant swine. But then again, he was a jaguar shifter. An alpha, and she was so much weaker. If they’d been in the wild, she would have flopped on her back, exposing her vulnerable belly in supplication.

Willful feminine humanity rebuked that thought and ached to pound him into dust. But she refrained, knowing that would only escalate matters. What he needed was calming down, not riling up. Not unless she wanted him to go all furry, and now was not the time. So she reined in her temper and stopped fighting his hold.

“Porter,” Melinda began in a sensible tone, easing onto one of the leather chairs with a wave of her hand. “Quit being a Neanderthal. Of course Rachel isn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m not?” Rachel frowned at Melinda.

“Of course not,” Rome said, replacing the card back in the envelope and stripping off the gloves. “This is the best place for you to be.”

“But…” Rachel scrambled to gather her thoughts. “You could all be in danger.”

Back to front as they were, she felt Porter’s harsh, short laugh vibrate from a chest rock-solid with muscles. “Like that’s anything new.”

Though his hold hadn’t loosened, she gave in to need and unclenched her fists, placing them palm down over the arms keeping her immobile. A shuddering breath passed through his frame at the light touch. His muscles relaxed and the raw edges of his possessiveness and power trickled away.

Sensing the danger had passed, Rachel raised her head and found Rome staring at her. “What?”

“Did you tell anyone where you are?” A flat question laced with the clear authority of one used to being obeyed.

Seriously? Did she have stupid written on her forehead or something? “No. I’ve only told my parents I’m safe and will be away for a few weeks in the hopes this will all blow over. The police don’t even know where I am.”

“They do now. Rome’s been in contact.” Still wrapped in Porter’s embrace, Rachel felt the muscles roping his arms tighten once again. “And it looks as if this guy has just blown himself straight to us.” Though she couldn’t see his face, the prowling darkness that lay just below his words caused the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to rise. While she certainly wanted her stalker caught and punished, she didn’t want it to turn bloody.

Across the room, hands on his hips, Rome continued to watch her with a stare as predatory and unflinching as the jaguar that lurked beneath his skin.

Perfect. Sandwiched between the hot fury of one alpha shifter and the cold calculation of another. Though Rachel truly appreciated their willingness to keep her secure and look out for her welfare, she could only submit so much before everything that made her intrinsically female threatened to snap and dismember the dominant males and their controlling attitudes.

“What now?” If some of that irritation slipped out via a snarling lip, who could blame her?

“No slips on any e-mails, blogs, social media?”

Figuring it would take either a blunt object or an act of God to make them listen to her, Rachel nipped her own tongue in warning to watch what she said before saying it. “Absolutely not. The only people who know I’m here are you, so unless...” She halted mid-sentence, her eyes flying wide open as her brain flushed out another possibility. “Oh, shit. Sorry.” The last she muttered at Melinda.

“I raised four unruly boys. I’ve heard that word quite often.” Melinda smiled with catlike precision, the sassy twinkle in her eyes the first sign of her innate humor, which for some reason, made Rachel think of Porter.

“And used it yourself more than a handful of times,” Porter commented dryly as he removed the arm from across her chest to stroke her hair in a measured rhythm. “What did you forget,
amada
?”

“I’m not sure if this qualifies as a possible leak,” she hedged, feeling her own muscles ease under his touch.

Petting her. He was petting her.

“Go on,” Porter gently prompted.

“Well. Last night I ran into Connie and Kay at the pool.” Her thigh muscles twitched, recalling in incredibly fast detail all that happened just before the unexpected and unwanted encounter. Porter’s scent grew stronger at her pause, the musk and amber twining through her senses. An indication he too was remembering their late night pleasures.

Rome coughed loudly, a not-so-subtle attempt to get her attention where it should be. “And?”

Cheeks red, Rachel’s eyes flitted between Rome’s dancing depths to Melinda’s knowing ones. Now she could feel the heat of mortification reach the tips of her ears.

Again Porter touches me and I lose all common sense. Had he lied about the mating heat?

Doggedly, she pushed on. “Long story short, they recognized me as Ellen Patrick from a picture taken at a writers’ convention in February. Kay posted on her Facebook account that I was vacationing here, but,” she stressed as everyone in the room began to fret, “she said she would take it off immediately.”

“When did she put it up?” Rome settled into the desk chair and began tapping on the keyboard.

Melinda rose from her seat to move behind Rome. Of course Porter and Rachel had to go see what was happening as well. Grasping her hand, Porter led Rachel over and they all crowded together to stare at the glowing computer screen.

“Um…” Rachel was having a hard time thinking with Porter’s large hands on her hips, his fingers just inches away from a very sensitive part of her body. She scrubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes, trying to shake free from the need that would not stay banked. “Their first night here, so Wednesday.”

“What’s Kay’s last name?” Already logged onto the company’s Facebook account, he lifted his fingers, waiting.

“Miles,” Melinda responded. “Not unusual so she might be difficult to find.”

“What state is she from?” Rome snapped with all the finesse of a drill sargent.

It was a measure of Melinda’s love for her son that she didn’t knock him upside the head. “Arkansas.”

“You won’t be able to see anything on her page unless you plan on hacking it,” Rachel pointed out.

“Depends on how tight her restrictions are.” Rome clicked on a likely candidate and that quickly, everything Kay Miles ever put on her account flashed on the screen.

“Hell. She’s open to everyone.” An angry observation from the jaguar at her back. “Anybody could have seen that post.”

Rome’s mouth flattened. “It’s not here now,” he said, scrolling through the myriad of information, “but yeah, Porter’s right. Anyone doing a search for Ellen Patrick could have seen it.”

“Do a search now for Ellen Patrick,” Porter ordered.

As Rome complied, Rachel was compelled to ask, “Why?”

Porter set his lips on her hair in an absentminded gesture of affection, his eyes transfixed to the words and sites that popped up on the monitor. “You said Kay recognized you from a picture at a writers’ convention. I want to see if that picture’s on the net.”

“Even if it is, it still doesn’t link me to my real name.”

“Check for Rachel—” Porter began.

“Already on it,” Rome muttered, opening another window and typing Rachel’s real name.

“See,” Rachel said with renewed calm as the various hits were opened and discarded. “No pictures of me under my real name and no correlation between the two.”

Rome’s fingers tapped on the desktop. “It has to be someone you know, then.”

“But who?” Rachel threw her hands in the air. “And what everyone keeps forgetting is that the letters were sent to me via my publisher, before the convention, and bore a New York postmark. I live in North Carolina.”

Silence, other than the beeping boxes lining the white countertop under the row of flat screens, filled the room for a time.