Savage Alpha (Alpha 8) (2 page)

Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you? And don’t say Jonas Grayfeather again, because that tells me absolutely nothing about you.”

“It’s my name.”

“A name that means nothing to me. Nor does the fact that an Apache Indian—
half
Apache Indian,” she corrected as Jonas arched one dark eyebrow, “is running around London sneaking into my dressing room.”

“I don’t run, and I don’t sneak either. I was waiting in your dressing room because I had assumed Gabriel would have told you about me,” he added.

Her mouth twisted. “If you know my brother at all, then you’ll know Gabriel isn’t big on explaining himself to anyone, least of all me.”

Jonas didn’t give a flying fuck what Gabriel was “big on.” Considering this woman had a stalker, this situation could have turned very nasty in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t appreciate Gabriel’s lack of information about his sister either. He’d expected a fearless Amazon, and instead he’d got a bantam hen ready to scratch his damned eyes out.

A very beautiful bantam hen ready to scratch his eyes out…

Not that he could blame her for trying to fight him off, after the blood-dripping-from-rose-petals incident.

Lily Knight had the same dark hair as her brothers, but when she moved her head, Jonas could also see streaks of auburn in the shoulder-length curls. Her eyes were the green-blue of a clear mountain lake and surrounded by the longest, thickest dark lashes he’d ever seen. She was wearing heavy stage makeup but there was no hiding her defined cheekbones either side of her pert nose, with a perfect bow of a mouth above a small and stubbornly pointed chin.

She was wearing some sort of overlarge blue T-shirt over skintight black jeans, but even so, it was possible to see that her figure was voluptuous rather than the skinny encouraged by fashion models who forced themselves not to eat so they could strut their stuff in ridiculous outfits on a catwalk.

Jonas preferred voluptuous over skinny any day—

No way was he going there!

Lily Knight was a client in need of protection, and
not
a woman he could allow himself to be attracted to. That sort of distraction could have dire consequences.

His jaw tightened. “Call Gabriel, and then we’ll talk about the anonymous letters you’ve been receiving.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m here to protect you, that’s why.”

Lily felt the warmth that heated her cheeks. She baulked at having someone protect her, as much as she didn’t want to talk to Jonas Grayfeather about those increasingly explicit letters she’d been receiving on a daily basis for the past month. She hadn’t even let Gabriel read the last few letters, they were so sexually graphic. The white roses dripping with blood were pure evil. “You really are an Apache Indian?”

“I believe it’s more politically correct to say Native American nowadays,” he drawled.

It wasn’t that difficult to believe he was speaking the truth. There was that burnished skin, for one thing, the blue-back hair, and the harsh features that looked as if they had been carved from red granite.

All of which made Lily curious to know what an Apache Indian—correction, Native American, was doing working in London.

Those unemotional blue eyes told her Jonas wasn’t about to answer her questions any time soon. If ever. “Okay, I’ll call Gabriel.” She took the cell phone to turn away and punch in her brother’s number, all the time knowing Gabriel was more than arrogant enough to have arranged for someone to protect her without bothering to tell her.

Something her eldest brother did within seconds of answering her call. Along with the statement Jonas was staying put until they had caught whoever was stalking her, so live with it!

Part of her wanted to tell Gabriel what he could do with his bodyguard, that she didn’t need one. Common sense told her she would be stupid to do that. At six and a half feet tall and weighing well over two hundred pounds, most, if not all of it hard and defined muscle, Jonas Grayfeather’s presence was imposing enough to deter even the most determined of stalkers. And her stalker was becoming increasingly more determined.

She’d started to receive fan mail a couple of days after the play opened, flattering and appreciative cards and notes from people who had enjoyed the play and her acting.

Those first few letters from the stalker hadn’t seemed any different from the others, except they were printed rather than handwritten. Lily had just assumed the author of them had bad handwriting. But then the tone of the letters had begun to change, becoming more personal, written as if the man knew her, as if the two of them were friends, lovers.

The bloodied roses left in her dressing room four days ago had completely freaked her out. Enough so that she’d finally gone to Gabriel and showed him the less explicit letters. She had only wanted him to know about them, but made it clear she didn’t want Gabriel, or any of her brothers, hanging around in her life, being unbearable to anyone who came near her.

It appeared Jonas Grayfeather was Gabriel’s compromise.

She handed Jonas back his cell phone. “Gabriel vouched for you.”

“Kind of him.”

Lily’s lips twitched with humor at his sarcasm. It was unusual to find anyone strong enough to stand up to her arrogant eldest brother, but she had a feeling Jonas Grayfeather was the exception. “He says I can trust you.”

“Yes.”

She sighed deeply. “So what happens now?”

“You show me the rest of the letters. The ones you didn’t show to Gabriel.”

Her humor faded, and she felt the color leech from her cheeks. “How did you know…?”

He shrugged those broad shoulders. “Educated guess.”

“Educated?”

“This isn’t the first stalker I’ve dealt with. This one jumped too quickly from ‘adoring the ground your beautiful feet walk on’ to blood dripping off rose petals.” His mouth twisted with distaste. “Besides which, none of the letters you gave Gabriel were still in their envelopes, so no postmarks either to tell me the date they were sent. Gabriel’s emotional investment will have prevented him from picking up on that.”

Lily swallowed down the nausea. Not only had this man memorized some of the wording of those letters, but he was also astute enough to have realized they hadn’t stopped where she’d led her brothers to believe they had.

“I couldn’t let Gabriel read the most recent letters.” If she had, her brother could have torn London apart looking for the man who sent them. Then he would have torn the man apart. Which meant the letters and roses would stop, but Gabriel would be charged with murder. If, of course, anyone ever found the body…

“I imagine not.”

Jonas Grayfeather really did understand, Lily realized. He might rival Gabriel for being a man of few words, but he nevertheless filled Lily with a sense of…safety. As if nothing bad would happen to her—could happen to her, when she was with him.

Maybe she would forgive Gabriel for his interference this time…

“Hmm.” Jonas put down the last of the letters, none of his inner disquiet—and disgust—visible in his expression. “I’m not even sure some of those things are anatomically possible.”

“No,” Lily answered quietly.

Jonas had driven her back to her apartment, after standing outside in the hallway while she changed out of her costume into her own clothes. Which were pretty similar to her stage costume: an overlarge green sweater and figure-hugging jeans, the heels on her boots adding another three inches to her height. She’d also taken off the heavy stage makeup and done something with her hair, pulled it back and up and secured it on her crown in a cluster of untidy curls.

She looked fucking amazing.

With an emphasis on the
fucking
.

Her bone structure was incredible, her skin flawless. As for her mouth—

“I understand why you didn’t show those to Gabriel.” Jonas ignored the stirring of his body in response to Lily, in favor of concentrating on the last six letters she’d received from her stalker. Letters that had become increasingly sick in content and sexual language, somehow seeming even more so because they were impersonally printed rather than written. The author of them was a serious fuckhead.

“No doubt you believe I should have done, regardless of how I felt.” Lily glared at him, her eyes glowing that beautiful blue-green. “That it was irresponsible not to do—” Her words came to a faltering halt, eyes widening, as Jonas stood up to his full and towering height.

“Let’s get one thing clear.” Jonas was deliberately intimidating her with his size and height. If this was going to work, then he didn’t intend having to fight Lily every step of the way. “Firstly, I don’t need anyone second-guessing what I’m going to say, because I learned to speak for myself at two years old—”

“Humph.” She eyed him scathingly. “You’re just like my brothers. All chest thumping and ‘I’m the man, and I know what’s best for you.’ What’s so funny?” she challenged as Jonas began to smile.

“You are.” He held up a hand to silence her when she would have spoken again. “Secondly, I never ‘thump my chest.’ Nor do I think, because I’m a man, I know what’s best for you. As a man, I know what I’d like to do
with
you, but that’s another matter…” He frowned at the fact he had spoken more in the last two minutes than he had in the past two days. “It’s also completely inappropriate, given the circumstances.”

Jonas had insisted on searching Lily Knight’s apartment when they arrived, to make sure there was no one else in there but the two of them. There wasn’t.

He did discover she lived alone and the apartment reflected her, classy and elegant, the décor in warm green and yellow tones. Except for the bedroom. The throw on the four-poster bed was royal blue, with an assortment of colored cushions on top, ranging from that deep red to a pale pink. Floaty cream drapes were secured back at each corner of the bed, and matching floor-to-ceiling ones at the two windows. There were also tapestries on the walls of maidens and knights and unicorns and other mythical creatures.

Jonas had found it hard to tear his gaze away from that four-poster bed. From stopping his mind wandering to thoughts of the two of them there together, completely naked, their bodies glowing with the sweat created by their lovemaking, Lily’s skin a pale gold against the much darker hue of his.

That was before he’d read those letters from her stalker, of course. The sick things written in them were guaranteed to disgust rather than arouse. It made Jonas wonder if the man desired Lily or hated her. Maybe a little of both, as could happen so easily with a stalker.

Lily gazed up at Jonas warily. She’d never met anyone like him before. His size was totally overwhelming, but he was also so—so
different
from anyone else she’d ever met. All that blue-black hair and burnished skin, his face hewn out of rock, and his physique… Well, muscular didn’t even begin to describe how he looked in a black T-shirt stretched tautly across his chest, and faded jeans that hung low on his hips and outlined the strength of his long legs. The black leather coat that reached all the way down to the tops of his black biker boots was intimidating, to say the least.

Bad boy didn’t even begin to describe this man.

She had to wonder at Gabriel, suave, sophisticated, and the typical overprotective older brother, for knowing a man like Jonas Grayfeather, let alone hiring him to protect her. “Gabriel trusts you implicitly.” She realized that had to be the only explanation for this man being here.

“With good reason.”

“What did you want to do to me?”

“Sorry?” He frowned his irritation.

Lily’s training as an actress, and understanding of body language, enabled her to interpret the tapping of Jonas’s right index finger against his thigh. To know he was aware of exactly what she was asking. “A few minutes ago.” She took a step toward him. Two could play at the intimidation game. “You said you knew what you wanted to do with me.” Lily was standing close enough now to run a fingertip lightly over the hard muscles of his chest as she gazed up into his face. “What was it?”

She felt the muscles in his chest tense. “Don’t play games with me, little girl.” A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll lose.”

Her expression became deliberately sultry. “But maybe by losing, I’ll also win?”

He scowled darkly. “I don’t play word games.”

“You don’t skulk, you don’t run, you don’t sneak, and you don’t play word games.” She took another step closer. So close she could feel the warmth of Jonas’s body and breathe in the clean male smell of him completely unadorned by such frivolity as cologne or aftershave. Not that he needed it. He smelled divine, of fresh air and forests and a heady musk that was all his own. “What
do
you do, Jonas?”

His chest was barely rising and falling beneath her fingertip, blue eyes a dark navy. “I put naughty little girls over my knee and spank them when they deserve it.”

Was she supposed to feel this shiver of arousal down the length of her spine, only from thinking of this man putting her over his knee and spanking her bottom with one of those large, capable hands?

Probably not, given the—

Given the circumstances.