To Trap A Temptress (Southern Sanctuary - Book 2) (3 page)

“What?” 
He rasped the word, the bass notes sending another quiver across her flesh.

“There
was something…”  She tried to break his hold but failed.  “Something
brushed along my lower back.”  Between his arm and her waist.

Those
bottomless black eyes ringed by ridiculously long dark eyelashes studied her
closely, as if he were memorising and cataloguing all her features… perhaps all
her weak spots.  Yeah Nell way to go, choose the serial killer first time
you step out of your safe little world.

“My
snake likes you.”

She
blinked replaying his words over in her head.  Finally she laughed, she
couldn’t help herself.  “I’m sorry is that some sort of euphemism for
what’s in your pants?”

The
corner of his mouth twitched up.  “No.  I have a tattoo… of a
snake.  He likes you.” 

He
let go of her waist for a split second, reaching between them to tug open the
two top buttons of his shirt.  Great just what she needed, more of that
gorgeous flesh to study.  Without thinking she exhaled deeply letting her
warm breath play across the bare skin of his upper chest.  Under her gaze
his muscles spasmed and then just like that there was black snake staring at
her.  She jerked in surprise, wanting to get away but the behemoth’s grip
was too tight.

“What
the…”  She studied the tattoo just as it quite clearly studied her
back. 

Its
black intent eyes identical to those of its owner/canvas.  Without pausing
to consider how forward it might seem she pulled her hand from his grip,
reaching between them to trace a finger down the wonderful silvery black
scales.  Under her touch the snake writhed while she could clearly hear
her partner’s harsh panting gasp of surprise.

“Sorry.” 
She whipped her hand away, letting him recapture it.  “Does it hurt?”

Again
the quirk at the corner of his mouth, she was beginning to believe that was his
way of showing humour. 

“No.”

“Does
it always move around like that?”

“No”

She
gave a frustrated sigh at his monosyllabic answers, once more sending warm air
across the exposed flesh just below his throat, the snake languidly moving
across his skin as if basking under the touch of her breath.

“You
gotta stop doing that.”  Drum instructed, arching his head slightly to the
left to relieve some tension.

“I’d
be happy to but you’ll need to loosen your hold on me.”

He
continued to stare down at her and then shrugged those massive shoulders. 
“No I’m good.”  He moved her abruptly to the left to avoid a collision
with another couple.  “So, why me?” 

“Why
you what?”

“Why
pick me to dance with?”

She
wanted to look away but there was an intensity in those dark depths that had
her locked in stare mode.  He was like the snake, mesmerising her into
staying still as he poised to strike.  You didn’t lie to this man. 
When this man asked you a question you started talking until he told you to
stop or silenced you for good.  Swallowing hard she fought to come up with
an acceptable half-truth but none came to mind.

“I
had a plan.”

The
skin around his eyes tightened almost imperceptibly.  “Let me guess you
need me to hurt someone, maybe kill them?”

“What!
No!  I’m a Doctor for Goddess sake I don’t… what a ridiculous thing to
suggest.”

Again
that corner of his mouth twitched upwards, either the man was secretly laughing
at her or he had a tic. 

“Well
Doc I think you might be surprised by the kind of people from all walks of life
who take one look at me and think I might provide a permanent solution for
their problems.”

“Well
people are stupid.”  She huffed.  “Besides if I wanted someone dead
I’d just ask Hadleigh or one of the other enforcers.”  She blinked slowly
as a sudden thought made her bite down on her bottom lip.

The
sight of her chewing on that soft pillowy lower lip made him harder still.
“What?”  His voice came out even raspier than before causing another
shiver of awareness to race down her spine.

“I
was just thinking if I wanted someone dead that much I’d do it myself, off the
top of my head I can think of at least eight undetectable poisons.”

Again
the side of his mouth twitched and if possible those black eyes of his turned
even blacker.  “Just when I thought you couldn’t turn me on any more than
I already am you up the stakes.”

Nell
damned the high colour of embarrassment that flooded her cheeks, men… let alone
men that looked like this warrior never said teasing sexy things to nice girls
like her… unless.  Her temper snapped back into force, unless he was
trying to scare her off. 

“It’s
not going to work you know.”

“What
isn’t going to work Doc?”

“You’re
trying to scare me off.  Well glare and snarl all you want I’m not some
weak kneed Miss.  I’ve dealt with sick toddlers scarier than you and had
them eating out of my hand in no time.”

He
didn’t doubt that for a second.  “You’re just fanning the flames higher
Darling.  Before I combust and take you with me why don’t you elaborate on
this plan of yours, the one I’m guessing you need my help with.”

Nell
chewed on her bottom lip in trepidation; she was supposed to be batting her
eyelashes at the man and with a husky whisper issue a sexy invitation. 
Once he succumbed to her advances anyone watching them would know from the
sheer look of lust on his face as they left for her place what their intentions
were.  Badda bing, badda boom, one nice girl reputation dead and
buried. 

Except
the seduction wasn’t happening according to plan.
 
She hadn’t batted her eyelashes once and just
how did one issue a sexy invitation without sounding like a bad porn
star?  Even if he did agree to leave the party with her then what was she
supposed to do with him back at her place?  Could she really get between
the sheets with a man she’d only just met? 

That
was the problem with being little miss vanilla; she had absolutely no
experience with one night stands.  How did other women do it?  Well
now that she came to think of it there was one way she could still achieve her
goal.  Alcohol... she could numb all of her inhibitions in one foul
swoop.  “I could really use a drink, how about you?”

Again
with that corner twitch of the mouth.  “If you were thinking of making a
run for it forget it.  I have your scent now Doc, I’d find you.”

“Honestly.” 
Nell rolled her eyes.  “Enough with the intimidation tactics, let’s get a
drink.”

 His
grip on her didn’t lessen one iota, Goddess his sheer size meant he literally
held all the cards. 

Sending
him a scowl of reproval she re-issued her demand.  “Alcohol.  Now!”

“Maat
you’re cute when you’re ordering me around.”  Slowly he withdrew his arm
from around her waist. 

Nell’s
scowl deepened as she sent him a look of disgust before turning on her high
heels and making a beeline for the bar.  “Don’t call me cute.”  She
instructed back over her shoulder at the looming figure invading her personal
space like a missile locked and loaded on its target.

“What’s
wrong with cute?”

Nell
brushed past several more couples before coming to an abrupt halt by the bar.
Surveying what was on offer she grabbed a glass of champagne, downing half its
contents in one go before returning her full attention to her escort.  Why
was he staring at her mouth like that?  And why did that look in his eyes
cause her nipples to harden and butterflies of anticipation to begin dancing in
her stomach?

“Well? 
What’s wrong with cute?”

Nell
tossed back the remainder of her glass hoping to drown the butterflies and find
the courage she was going to need.  “Cute is for kittens, babies and small
helpless… harmless things.  It ranks right up there with being called
nice.”

Drum
observed her closely as she slammed her empty glass on the bar and swooped up a
full replacement.  “Okay noted.  So let’s get back to this grand plan
of yours.  So why the dutch courage if you don’t want me to maim or kill
anyone?”

Nell
blinked slowly, whoa when was the last time she’d eaten anything? 
“Because I discovered that seducing someone is way harder in real life than in
the movies.”

“You
plan on having your wicked way with me Doc?”

“Wicked?” 
Nell smiled and then laughed.  “Wicked… that sounds fun doesn’t it?” 
She didn’t protest as he plucked the now almost empty second glass from her
hand. 

“Not
much of a drinker are you Doc?”

“Not
on an empty stomach I’m not.”

“Don’t
get me wrong here, I’m loving the sound of this elaborate plan of yours but
what’s the end game?”

“End
game? Isn’t that a sport thingy?”

The
corner of his mouth twitched upwards and she had an insane urge to reach over
and press her fingers over the spot. 

“What
would seducing me achieve Doc?”

“The
complete and utter annihilation of my all too tiresome good girl image.” 
She grabbed the edge of the bar as her knees began to wobble.  She should
probably find something to eat or… she found herself studying the behemoth’s
gorgeous lips… hmm, dare she?

“What’s
wrong with being known as a good girl?”

She
took a bold step closer to him, letting go of the bar and grabbing hold of one
of his massive forearms for balance, his skin warm and surprisingly soft under
her touch. “Everyone thinks I’m boring… predictable…”    She
pressed closer still, feeling the heat of his body through the thin silk of her
blouse.  “A push over… vanilla in a world full of flavours… sweet but
bland.”  She pressed up on the balls of her feet to gain some height
bringing her closer still to that alluring mouth of his. 

Drum
watched her inch her way closer to him, intrigued, turned on and amused by her
antics so far.  His baser instincts and the snake tattoo were clamouring
at him to sweep the gorgeous Doctor off her feet and find some quiet out of the
way place to bring her plan to fruition.  Yet something was holding him
back.  “Why me?”

“What?” 
She blinked slowly, her eyes flicking up from her focus on his lips to meet his
gaze.

“Why
pick me for your plan?”

“Because….” 
She dropped back to rest on her heels, still pressed in close but no longer
trying to get closer still.   She blinked slowly again.  “Are
you always this hard to seduce?”

“I
have to admit Doc you’re not the type of girl who usually hits on me so I don’t
think I have anything to compare.”

“What
type of women usually hit on you?”  Nell was insanely curious.

“The
type that look like they could hold their own in a bar fight for one.”

“You
don’t think I could hold my own in a bar fight?”  She squeezed his arm
more tightly as her head swum a little.  “You’re forgetting I’m a
Doctor.  Eyes, balls and adam’s apple are the best targets… although if I
had something sharp like a knife I might consider the tendons behind the
knees.”

“Ah
Doc, seriously, you’re killing me here.  Now stop avoiding the question
and tell me why out of all the guys here you picked on me?”

“Because.”
She looked away momentarily as colour flooded her cheeks, Goddess this was
embarrassing.  “Because when I saw you I realised you were the complete
antithesis of the kind of man everybody here would expect to be interested in
me.  You look like walking death for Goddess sake.”

“So
you did pick me because I look like a killer for hire.”  Drum couldn’t
help the edge of disappointment that tinged his words.

“No
that wasn’t the only reason.”  Nell was surprised to find she still had
her hand wrapped around his forearm and gave it a squeeze.  “I…”  She
stumbled to a halt, alcohol and embarrassment locking her throat closed. 

The
behemoth flexed his forearm forcing her to let go as he took a step back from
her.  His expression shuttered and foreboding, his eyes blacker than the
darkest night and colder still.  “You haven’t even asked me my name...
it’s Drum by the way.”  Sighing he shook his head.  “Thanks for the
dance Nell.” 

Giving
her one last inscrutable look he pivoted on his heels and disappeared into the
crowd, leaving Nell behind, clinging to the bar for support.  Her gut was
churning and there was a sour taste left in her mouth and she didn’t think she
could blame the alcohol.

Chapter
Three

He’d
known her name!

The
realisation hit her two hours later as she snapped shut her suitcase. 
After she’d revealed she was a Doctor he’d commenced calling her Doc in that
teasing gruff tone of his but all along he’d known her name.  Why? 
How?  They’d never met before. 

And
why would he be upset that she’d chosen him because he looked like the baddest
of the bad?  It was okay for women who could hold their own in a bar fight
to try and pick him up because he looked like a cross between the grim reaper
and a superhero, but not for her? 

And
really how ridiculous was his statement, yes he might look like the promise of
death but anyone with half a brain could see through that thin veneer to the
integrity and strength of will beneath all that muscle.  The man was a
white hat in wolf’s clothing if she ever saw one. 

Damn
it. If she hadn’t been tongue tied and tipsy that’s what she could have told
him.  She probably owed the warrior... Drum, an apology.  After the
reunion she would find him… no maybe better if she phoned him, it was the
cowardly option but at least her intentions were good. 

She
huffed a defeated sigh, her intentions were always good.  Maybe she should
just embrace reality.  No doubt Great Aunt Alma’s timid accountant with
mother issues and a nervous stutter would turn out to be a perfect match for
her. 

Why
then did her thoughts keep turning back to a seven foot tall warrior with a
surprisingly kissable looking mouth and heated black eyes that looked at her as
if she were the last piece of chocolate in the world and he had a
craving?  Ugh she was being ridiculous, maybe she’d better chug another bottle
of water before she headed to the reunion.

*         
           
*         
            *

Drum
glared at the running machine controls, was this as fast as it could go? 
He jabbed a few more buttons mentally telling his legs to man up as the incline
increased to a punishing level.  Outside the Atlanta skyline was encased
in darkness so instead of a view he only had his own sorry ass reflection to
stare at.  He couldn’t believe he’d acted like such a chump and cut and
run on Nell Montgomery.  They’d danced, they’d talked, he couldn’t
remember the last time he’d had such an intelligent amusing conversation with a
woman.  Maat was she gorgeous, smart and obviously way out of his
league. 

So
she’d taken one look at him and classed him as the dumb thug muscle who could
help teach her family and friends not to pigeon hole her as the good
girl.  He should have just nodded, smiled and gone along with her crazy
scheme.  If he had he might be in bed with her right now proving to her
that she shouldn’t in turn pigeon hole him.  After they came up for air he
could have suggested they have breakfast, then lunch and then maybe spend the
rest of their lives together.  But no like some adolescent schoolboy he’d
stormed off in a snit because she’d hurt his feelings.  She hadn’t seen
him and been immediately attracted, she’d seen him as a means to an end. 
Maat why hadn’t he turned her whole plan around and used it to further his own
agenda?

“You
look troubled Crumpet.”

Thankfully
he was used to the Goddess Maat just appearing out of thin air before him;
otherwise he might have stumbled, hit the treadmill and ricocheted across the
room.  Instinctively he killed the incline and slowed the machine down to
jogging speed.  If he had to endure one of Maat’s ‘little chats’ then he
wanted to be able to focus.

“I’m
good.”

“You
sure that treadmill hasn’t done something to upset you Muffintop?”

“Like
I said, I’m good.”

“Well
maybe you should stop trying to kill the poor inanimate thing then.”  Maat
did something mysterious and the treadmill ground to halt. 

Fuck,
this wasn’t just one of her ‘little chats’ then, this was going to hurt. 
Grabbing his towel he rubbed down his face and throat before stepping off to
lean casually back against the machine, folding his arms across his sweat
soaked t-shirt.  “Do you have news on Serena’s whereabouts?”  Maybe
he could distract her.

“Oh
I’m still in party mode, let’s not talk work.”  The Goddess was dressed in
a flowing gold caftan, her long black hair pulled back in its usual
plait.  Only her eyes, the colour of shifting sands gave any hint of her
otherworldliness.  “Wasn’t it a wonderful ceremony?  My Vaughn melded
to the gorgeous Hadleigh.  Such a lovely couple, so well suited… complimentary
even.”

“Yes
Vaughn’s one lucky… dog.”

“Mmmm
and the sparks that fly when they’re together.  Almost contagious. 
But you know Buttercup just because two people have an attraction doesn’t
necessarily mean that they would be a good match… take you and the lovely
Doctor for instance.”

Ahhh
here it is, Drum fought hard and won the battle to keep his expression neutral.

“Such
a... nice girl… sweet.”

Yeah
because nice sweet girls always go around ordering dangerous men around,
planning to seduce them… not.  Nell wasn’t anywhere near as nice and sweet
as everyone including herself appeared to believe.  Why was he the only
one who could see that?  She talked about undetectable poisons matter of
factly and had no trouble facing off with him.  He’d witnessed grown men
grovel on their knees for forgiveness after he’d done nothing more than frown
in their direction.

“Smart…
classy.”  Maat was still listing Nell’s attributes, not that he was blind
to them for fuck sake, just what was his Goddess up to here?  “I saw you
dancing with her, pity she’s not taller.”

“Or
I’m not shorter.”  He couldn’t help but point out.

“Oh
no, I made you Sugarplum and you are in a word perfect.”  Maat’s eyes
shifted to the blinding white of a pristine tropical beach.  “But
unfortunately the sweet Doctor is not perfect for you.”

Drum
sent a mental command to his snake tattoo as it arched up under his sweat
soaked t-shirt as if to strike through the material to attack Maat. 
Neither he nor the tattoo had liked Maat’s statement but to attack or even
argue with his Goddess that would just be asking for a smack down. 

“How
so?”

“Well
your careers for one thing.  She’s a healer dealing in life.  You’re
a warrior dealing in death.  And there’s the physical problem, what if you
lost control?  With all that delicate creamy skin she looks like she’d
bruise easily.  And once you got past the physical attraction what would
you talk about?  I mean I look at her so elegant and sweet tempered and
then I look at you all snarls and retribution, ten minutes away from killing a
piece of exercise equipment because you need to take your frustrations out on
something and I just have to say no... this, whatever it is between you and the
Doctor, it’s not going to happen.”

“You’re
forbidding it?”  If he clenched his jaw any tighter he would turn his
teeth into diamonds.

Maat
issued a careless laugh.  “Forbid no!  You know me Jellybean I’m all
about the free will.  Just think of this as some friendly advice, after a
hundred years trust me when I say I know you inside and out.  I do believe
the perfect woman is out there waiting for you.  You just need to hunt her
down, be tenacious but charming… you can be when you try you know.  Don’t
take no for an answer and try not to let your own hang ups get in the
way.”  Maat gave him a warm smile.  “Now leave that poor treadmill
alone, check your phone and take my advice to stay away from the Doctor, she’s
way too nice a girl for you.”

*         
           
*         
            *

Nell
clamped her lips together hard to keep from blurting out that there had to be
some mistake.  Seriously, it was all well and good to be the nice girl but
sane people did not protest when they were upgraded to the honeymoon
suite. 

Closing
the door after the bell hop she kicked off her shoes and took a tour of the
cottage.  The downstairs area was all hardwood floors and huge floor to
ceiling glass doors flung open to let the warm island breeze in to caress her
skin.  The main living room had lots of low wide couches positioned so
they looked out to the private lush garden with its own pool and tinkling
waterfall.  Upstairs the open plan bedroom and bathroom were likewise airy
and luxurious but the view from the massive open windows was of the ocean and
beach beyond the private garden. 

Wow,
no wonder Uncle Van and Aunt Gwen had vacationed here at the exclusive five
star luxury Star-Crossed Palm resort on Vatulete Island, Fiji six months
ago.  Thanks went doubly to them as they had mapped a transport portal to
the supply closet just off the lobby of the reception area.  The only
trick to stepping out of the supply closet wheeling her luggage was to look and
act as if she had just stepped off a boat from the main island.  

Being
assigned the honeymoon suite was a genuine surprise but looking around her
surroundings she couldn’t help but release a happy sigh.  For once the
good girl was coming out ahead.  Feeling particularly naughty she did no
more than hang up the dress she intended to wear to tonight’s opening dinner of
the four day reunion before grabbing her swimsuit and heading outside to the
pool.  She would float all her troubles away.
 
No more trying to change who she was.
 
No more trying and failing to seduce
spectacularly inappropriate men. 

Maybe
there would be someone at the reunion.
 
Someone she had overlooked all these years, too busy to appreciate them
before because she’d been too concerned with her grades and studying her butt
off so she would be the best Doctor she could possibly be. She had to think
positive; perhaps there really would be a nice safe suitable man attending
tonight’s cocktail party.  Tamping down on the small niggling voice in her
head that whispered that such a perfect man as she described sounded kind of
boring when compared to a seven foot tall warrior with polished coffee coloured
skin and eyes full of dark mischief and wicked sinful promises. 

Goddess
she hoped the pool water was icy.

*        
           
*         
            *

Drum
headed for his apartment on the 84
^th
floor of Maat Towers, frowning down
at the text on his phone.  He should be feeling wrung out and exhausted
after his early morning gym session, instead he felt more wired than when he’d
started.  Lucky for Michael Preston, CEO of Maat enterprises, as Maat had
predicted Michael had just sent a text requesting Drum sit in on a video
conference with some UK clients.  It wasn’t an unusual request, sometimes
when Michael was dealing with particularly stubborn or nasty corporate entities
he’d invite Drum along to sit there and scowl the opposition into submission.

What
was unusual were the clothes laid out waiting for him in his bedroom.  For
a video conference, seriously?  Michael must have notified the company
housekeepers even before Drum had agreed to attend the meeting.  Talk
about being railroaded.  Oh well it wasn’t like there was any chance of
catching any shut eye.  Showering and shaving in the privacy of his own
bathroom he emerged ten minutes later rubbing his short thick hair dry with a
hand towel.  A suit!  The only saving grace, there was no jacket or
tie.  It took only moments to pull on the black light weight trousers and
matching black waistcoat, underneath which he wore a black silk shirt shot
through with silver thread.  Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror
Drum rolled his eyes, he looked like a cross between James Bond and a paid
assassin. 

Sighing
he looked around for his boots, might as well be comfortable, not like anyone
would notice his footwear over a video conference line.  Except
housekeeping must have cleaned up whilst they were in his apartment, where in
blazes had they put his shit kickers?  Obvious answer was his
closet.  Flinging open the door he surveyed the contents.
 
Nope no boots there either, maybe he could go
barefoot, who’d know?  He was just about to turn and leave when out the
corner of his eye he spied a pair of black brogues he didn’t remember
purchasing.  They’d do.  Stepping in he crouched low, rummaging for
his objective, snagging them just as the closet door behind him slammed shut
and everything went pitch black.