Tempted (7 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Zanetti

BOOK: Tempted
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His gaze devoured hers. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She did, and he plunged deeper. She locked her feet at the small of his back, holding on to his hands. Harder, more powerful, his thrusts rocked the bed, overwhelming her. Giving so much pleasure, yet taking far more than she’d intended to give—part of herself—a piece she wasn’t sure she’d ever get back.
Torment filled his eyes. His fangs dropped low and sharp.
Need whipped through her sex. Unbidden, she turned to expose her neck, offering.
A half growl, half groan ripped from his chest. Capturing her wrists in one hand over her head, he grabbed her ass, lifting her. His knees bent and he yanked her into him, pounding as if he couldn’t stop.
Oh God.
So close. She was so close. “Max.”
He angled the base of his shaft over her clit. Fire exploded from inside her, ripping along every nerve. She cried out, arching against him, sensations consuming her. With a growl, he ground into her, his entire body tightening as he came. Holding her tight, he filled her with so much more than the physical. He dropped his head onto her neck, giving her a soft kiss.
He released her wrists and settled against her. She lowered her arms and held him tight. So tight. How could she ever let him go?
Chapter 7
 
M
orning rain pattered peacefully against the window as Max ran a gentle hand down Sarah’s soft arm. The woman slept soundly.
He’d been too rough with her. He should probably feel guilty instead of profoundly pleased.
His mate
. No question now, if there had been one earlier. Keeping his fangs in his mouth and not in her neck had taken every ounce of self-control he’d honed through the centuries. Even now, sated after an entire night of truly excellent sex, his canines ached, creating a pulsing demand to take ... to claim.
She felt the bond, too. When she’d turned and exposed her neck, she’d sealed her fate. He’d take what she’d offered as soon as the virus was cured. Now that he’d found her, his entire existence narrowed to keeping her safe. It would be much easier to do if he could put her and Janie in the same place.
But first, he had a job to do.
Quietly, he slipped from the bed and yanked on cargo pants. Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, he shut the door behind him and padded barefoot through the penthouse to open the door. Conn sat in a chair in the hallway with both doorways in sight.
Max rubbed his whiskers. “Thought you’d be gone.” Though he hadn’t, not really. He knew his friend would be watching the door.
Conn shrugged. “Had a feeling you might be preoccupied.”
“She’s mine.”
“I know.” Conn’s smile failed to reach his eyes. “It’s different. With your mate, I mean.”
“Yeah.” Max had never figured to find a mate. The idea of staying away from her now, well, seemed truly impossible.
His respect for Conn grew—what self-restraint the soldier must’ve had to stay away from his mate. His friend had mated an Irish witch a hundred years ago, a young witch who needed time to train. Conn had given her a century. “Go to Ireland, Conn.”
“I’m planning on it. As soon as I get you all settled.”
A sense of belonging settled hard on Max’s shoulders. The Kayrs brothers treated him like one of them. “I can settle myself, Connlan.”
“You’re family, Max. Always have been.” Conn drew a knife out of a pocket, flipping and catching it.
“You’ve never questioned that.” Two hundred years ago, when Dage had rescued Max from hell and took him to their home, the brothers had banded around him. He’d never understood why.
“There’s nothing to question.” Conn raised an eyebrow, continuing his game with the knife, yet focusing on Max.
“You’re going to stab yourself.”
But he wouldn’t. The ultimate soldier, Conn would get bored long before losing control of the knife.
Max shook his head. “You didn’t know me. In fact, what you did know, well, wasn’t good.”
“I knew your father was an asshole who beat the hell out of you—which wasn’t your fault.” Conn tucked the blade into his left boot, keeping eye contact. “You’re one of us, Max. It’s time to stop being grateful, time to stop wondering how to make yourself valuable. I’m not the wise one around here, but that much I know. Your place is here, regardless.”
Hope unfurled inside Max. Something even more tenuous let loose—trust. From the second he’d been asked to protect Janie, he’d felt at home with the Kayrs family. Dage would only trust family with her safety. Dage had probably put them together as much for Max as for Janie. Max had been frozen and unemotional before meeting the little girl, and now he was ready to take a chance with a mate. Maybe he really did belong. “Thanks, Conn.”
“Don’t get mushy on me, Max.” Conn cleared his throat.
Yeah. Neither one of them was good with the emotional shit.
Max rolled his shoulders. “If I mate Sarah, she’ll be in danger.” Damn. How the hell did that slip out? Now he was sharing his feelings? Not a subject he’d intended to broach.
“Yeah.” Conn stood and stretched his neck. “She’s fragile as a human, though.” He grimaced. “Tough choice to make.”
For the first time, Max almost envied Conn for the surprise mating a century ago. A quick roll in the hay had changed his friend’s life forever. “Would probably be easier having things in place, like you.”
Conn’s laugh lacked humor. “That’s what you think. The second I step foot on Ireland, that woman is going to try and light me on fire. While I’d like to court her ... in order to survive, I’m going to have to tame her.”
Tame a witch? Especially a powerful one like Moira? “You’re screwed.”
“No question about that.” Conn glanced at the closed door. “Will Sarah hold up all right today?
“Yes. The woman has brains and guts. She’ll be fine in court.” Though, what if an evil criminal had sat in the witness chair before her? Max scrubbed his gritty eyes. Having a mate took a lot of thought. “Is there any way we can scrub down the chair first?” Would that even help? He needed to find out more about that gift of hers in order to protect her.
“Maybe. I wish there was another way to get the company stock. Dage wants us under the radar for this one ... too many humans are already working in our labs.”
“They don’t know about us or even what they’re working on. Dage is covered.” Max would immediately take out anyone who threatened his king.
Conn shrugged. “Maybe. But you know our world. Rumors can be as bad as true fact in the Realm. Personally, I’d rather let Sarah’s brother get the stock and torture him until he sells to us. But then we’ll have to kill him. So Dage wanted to go the legal route.”
Torturing the man who’d put Sarah in the insane asylum held certain appeal for Max. The killing didn’t bother him much, either ... though it might upset her. “I don’t like the legal route.”
“Me either. Probably why we’re not king.” Conn stilled, and then tapped his ear communicator. “Okay. Send them up.”
Max lifted an eyebrow.
“Clothes for court today.” Conn stood, casually taking a gun from his waist.
“Who was on the other end of that conversation?” Max aligned himself against the penthouse doorway, between Sarah and any danger.
“Reinforcements. I called them the second I sensed Sarah was a potential mate.” Conn took aim at the closed elevator doors. “When it became apparent she was yours, I doubled the number.”
Max straightened, his gaze on the man who was as close as a brother to him. Warmth and belonging settled hard, somewhere in his solar plexus. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The door slid open to reveal a soldier they both knew well carrying bags of clothing. “Delivery,” he muttered.
“Thanks, Chalton.” Max smiled and grabbed several bags from the soldier. “I’ll go awaken ... my mate.”
 
Sarah smoothed down the silk skirt, shifting uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair. The compact courtroom held a judge’s bench with a witness chair facing two tables separated by a narrow aisle. A jury box sat empty to her right and three rows of benches lined the room behind her. Max loomed on the first one near the aisle, Jase sat at one table with her, and Conn leaned against the wall by the door as they waited for the judge to show.
While no vibrations came from the skirt, a nervous accountant on trial for fraud had last sat in the chair—nervous and guilty as hell.
She took a peek at her brother and his beautiful attorney seated at the other table. Andrew was wearing Armani. The attorney was a blond hottie in a light gray suit and three-inch red Jimmy Choos. Great shoes.
Jase tapped an elegant pen on a legal pad. “Take a deep breath, Sarah. You’ll be fine.”
She forced a grin. “You look the part, Jase, but you didn’t have to cut your hair.”
He’d shaved his scruffy beard and lopped off his long brown hair, though the ends still curled over his collar. The pinstriped gray Caraceni suit he wore fit him perfectly.
He shrugged. “I was ready to cut it. We’ve been training like crazy, and Conn keeps grabbing me by the hair to throw across the field.”
They were brothers, right? “How old are you, anyway?” Probably early twenties.
“Three hundred and ten years.” Jase eyed the opposing attorney, giving her a slight lift of the chin. Color slid under the blonde’s smooth skin.
Sarah coughed. “You’re kidding me.” She pivoted to face Max, who met her gaze with a nod of encouragement.
Showered and dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt, he was a bit irritated he couldn’t bring weapons into the courthouse. Darn metal detectors.
“How old is Max?” she whispered.
“Two hundred next month,” Jase said, grinning. “We try to throw him a party every decade, and it irritates as much as confuses him. He didn’t have that as a kid.”
Sadness filtered through Sarah. She was so sorry for the child Max must’ve been. “Yeah, he told me.”
“Really?” Jase started. “Interesting. Perhaps you’ll be at the next party. Janie has been planning it to include a puppy. I think
she
wants the puppy.”
Sarah frowned, her gaze on Max’s enduring face. They hadn’t had a chance to talk earlier—they’d hurried to make it to court on time. Would he stay in touch? Did he want a relationship? Sure hadn’t felt like a one-night stand.
Max frowned back.
She lifted one eyebrow in what she hoped appeared indifference, pivoting to face the front. “What if we lose, Jase?”
He lost his grin, looking decades older. “We can’t lose. This is the only way we get our hands on the altered protein. If the Kurjans get it first, they’ll use the protein before we can invent countermeasures. We’ll lose mates, including my pregnant sister-in-law and my queen.”
“I still think the minority stockholders will have something to say about lab results being made available to stock owners.”
Jase shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You own the majority of the stock—you can do what you want, include selling to us. Then we’ll have access, whether the minority stockholders like it or not. Nothing they can do about it.”
A breeze threw pinecones against a high row of windows as sunlight cascaded through. Jase cut a glance at Conn.
“What?” Sarah asked.
“I’m happy the sun is out. No Kurjans today.” Jase scratched his head. “Remember to answer the questions the way we rehearsed on the ride over.”
“I’ll try.” She wouldn’t lie under oath unless she absolutely had to. The idea made her squirm in her pale blue suit. “Thanks again for the clothes.” The spiked heel of the soft pink Manolo Blahniks gave her a sense of strength. Odd, but true. Of course, having tough-assed vampires in the room ready to defend her, well now, that wasn’t bad, either.
A throat cleared, and Andrew stood in front of her table. “Sarah. How are you feeling?”
Surprise pressed her back in the chair, and she plastered on the fakest smile she could create. “Damn pissed at you. We both know what happened, Andrew.”
He tilted his perfectly coiffed head. Cool blue eyes narrowed and he sighed. “Yes, we do. Apparently you’re still confused.”
So. He’d lie to the end. Sorrow at what could’ve been, at the relationship she might’ve had with him, slid through her. She was done feeling sorry for him. He’d chosen evil and was responsible for the decision. “I don’t remember our mother much, but something tells me you’re just like her.”
The insult sent a dark red spiraling across his tanned face. “No matter what is decided here today, you’ll never teach again. Nobody will allow a possible psychopath near their kids.”
He’d pitched a direct hit, and a damn good one. The time in the psychiatric hospital might be used against her in the future. Andrew had always known how to hurt her.
His gaze moved behind her, and he took a step back.
She didn’t turn. A creak of the wood promised Max had stood to his full height. She’d bet his expression was anything but kind.
“Return to your seat, Drew. We’re done.” Sarah used the nickname he’d always hated.
Andrew swallowed loudly. “You’ve made your bed.” He turned on his heel and stomped back to the blonde.
The wooden bench creaked in protest behind her. Max had sat back down.
Jase eyed her. “Your brother’s an asshole.”
Sarah forced a smile. “Half brother, and yeah, he is.”
Teaching fulfilled a need in her, and she was good at it. She loved her students and loved the glee they showed when learning something new. Fury heated her stomach at the thought that she’d never teach again.
A side door opened and a uniformed bailiff stalked inside. “All rise.”
Everyone stood, and a judge dressed in the customary black robe strode inside and took his seat. “Sit. Everyone sit.”
Steel-gray hair was slicked back from a weathered face sporting deep laugh lines near his mouth. He wore wire-rimmed glasses on his narrow nose. Intelligence shone in his faded blue eyes as he scanned the room. “So. Family fight here, huh?”

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