Fleeting Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 3 Read online

Page 3


  “I’m going to walk you to your bungalow.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her voice sounded dazed, and need pumped in his veins as her scent surrounded him, aroused him. The darkness of night had settled over the resort while they’d eaten, but he could see just as well in the dark as the light. Better, usually. When they mounted the steps to her porch, he spun her to press her back to the door and lifted her chin until she met his gaze.

  “I’m not going to fuck you, angel. You said we should get to know each other better. Let’s start here.” She needed to know he could maintain control. After what he suspected Trevor had done to her, she needed to know she could trust him never to hurt her. He had to keep himself in check. Last night’s slip was caused by too much alcohol, nothing more.

  He lifted his hand and sifted it through her golden hair. So soft and silky. His thumb stroked along her jaw. She swallowed and closed her eyes. He dipped forward to kiss her, his mouth settling over hers. His movements were a gentle caress, his tongue moving along her bottom lip before slipping inside to taste her. So good. She tasted as sweet as he remembered. She moaned, the sound filling his mouth. Heat flooded his veins, drove him wild. He cursed softly and started to step back when her fingers clenched on his lapels, pulling him back to her.

  “More, Adrian.” He watched the rise and fall of her breasts as she panted for breath. She arched, pressed herself firmly to him, and rubbed her stiff nipples over his chest. “Please.”

  Groaning, he complied. He swooped down to capture her mouth once more, his palm lifting to cup the weight of her breast. His cock ground against the soft juncture of her thighs.

  She whimpered and tried to climb him. A wildfire blazed in his blood, her hot, wet scent spurring him on. He gripped her rounded hips in his hands, pulled her up to brace her against the door. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she moved on him through their pants.

  Their mouths mated with each other in rough abandon, nipping, sucking. It felt so amazing. A few more minutes and he would come in his trousers. A few more minutes and he’d take her right here on the porch, breaking his promise to her.

  Damn it.

  “Stop, Cleo.” He tugged her legs down, and let her slide down his body. They both groaned. He made himself let go, but had to grip both sides of the doorframe to stop from reaching for her. “Go inside.”

  Confusion and lust spun together in her hooded amber eyes. She swayed toward him. “But—”

  “Go. I’m hanging on by a thread here, angel. I said I wasn’t going to fuck you, and I meant it.” She turned, fumbling with the latch until the door opened. He winced when it shut in his face. Still he didn’t move for long moments as the blood rushed through his veins. His hands fisted, and he ran his tongue down one of his protruding fangs. Lust tangled in a tight knot inside him, and he forced his feet to turn for his house. He stopped on the wide patio outside, not wanting to go in alone. Her scent would be there, on his bed, in his bathroom. Her clothes would still be dumped on his living room floor where she’d left them this morning.

  No. He stripped down, shifting into his leopard form as he did. He needed to go for a run before he could face a night in his bed without Cleo. One night he’d had with her, and already he didn’t want to sleep without her. Racing for the underbrush of the desert that surrounded the resort, he let his tan and black spotted paws stretch in front of him and ran without aim or purpose, just with the burning need to leave his troubles behind for a moment, clear his head so he could think.

  How the hell was he going to deal with this? It was unacceptable. How was she doing this to him? He barely knew her, and she laid him out. She was under his skin, and he needed to figure out what to do about that before he touched her again.

  Too much was up in the air. Too much uncertainty. He didn’t like it. As much as he wanted to possess her, this thing between them possessed him just as fiercely. He was skating dangerously close to losing control of himself.

  He forced himself to picture the ragged agony on Jason’s face when he’d been told his mate had died. Adrian didn’t want that. He never wanted to give so much of himself to a woman that he couldn’t function without her. Not even Cleo. Never.

  So close. Leaning her forehead against the closed door, Cleo gripped the doorknob so hard it shook. She’d almost had sex with him, and her body wept juices that showed how very ready it was for more of Adrian’s possession. If he hadn’t stopped them, they would have had sex.

  Damn him.

  But she knew sleeping with him would only make it worse for both of them when she had to run. Dread skittered over her nerves, stretched them tight. What would Adrian do when he found out exactly what kind of mess he’d mated himself to? She shuddered at the thought of his anger. She couldn’t blame him. She would be angry in his position.

  And what if Trevor tried to hurt Adrian? She knew from experience just how dangerous the werebear was when he was provoked. And even when he wasn’t. The thought of Adrian hurt sent horror spinning through her. No. She couldn’t let that happen. He was too important, too vital. She didn’t want to examine why, but she knew it was true.

  She had to leave before this went any further. She ignored the fact that they were already mated. That wouldn’t stop Trevor. It would probably make it worse for everyone.

  Oh, God. Calm down.

  She forced herself to pull in a deep breath and think clearly. What she smelled sent her panic spiraling into terror.

  Trevor. Here. In her house.

  But, no. Even he couldn’t have found her so fast, could he?

  She took another deep breath. There was no denying the sour, musky stench of werebear. One specific werebear. She’d know his stink anywhere.

  The last of the sweetness of being with Adrian tonight drained away.

  Trevor had found her. It didn’t matter how little time it had taken him. She had to run. There were no other options.

  She froze, waiting for the slightest noise to tell her if he was still here. His scent was fading as though he’d come and gone. But he could be outside waiting for her. It would be just like him to lay in wait and savor her panic.

  He was toying with her. Anger and fear flashed through her, but she shoved them back. This wasn’t the time. She had to think, had to get out of here before he caught her. Before Adrian got caught in the crossfire.

  Walking forward on shaking legs, she stepped on broken glass. It crunched under her shoes. Her eyes swept over the room. Even in the weak light coming from her kitchen she could see the place had been violated, ransacked. The furniture was shredded by bear claws, the mirrors and knickknacks that had come with the place crushed beyond recognition. She stepped into her bedroom. More destruction, this time including her clothes, make-up. Everything she owned.

  She fished her cell phone out of her purse and punched in a number she’d programmed into speed dial the day she’d arrived. “Hello. I’d like to order a cab, please.” She forced her voice into calm as she gave them her address. Forty minutes. More than enough time to do what she needed to do.

  The floorboard of the hall closet lifted. Inside was her stash of cash, a small backpack with clothes and toiletries, and a wig she’d put on after she left. Her heart pounded, and sweat slicked her palms, but she made herself sit and wait for the cab. Made herself not call Adrian.

  She would walk away clean, no excuses or explanations. There was nothing she could say that would make him understand. She didn’t see him as the kind of man who would let his woman leave him, no matter how short their acquaintance. And she didn’t see him as the kind of man to forgive. Once she left here, it was done. Finished. If she had any regrets on that score, she’d just have to tell herself that sacrificing Adrian meant he’d be safe.

  She’d already failed her child—she wouldn’t survive failing her mate too.

  Gravel crunched under wheels as headlights flashed in front of her windows. She peeked out the window to see if it was, indeed, the cab she’d called. She took a deep
breath and heaved a small sigh of relief when she didn’t smell Trevor anywhere nearby. Jerking the door open, she sprinted for the cab, slid in, and locked her door behind her. “The airport. Now.”

  A wizened old man glanced in the rearview at her as he sped away from her bungalow. “Yes, ma’am. You late for a flight?”

  “Something like that. Please hurry.” She twisted in her seat, watching as Refuge faded into the night. The darkness began to obscure her view, but she stayed that way, gazing out the back window until they turned onto the highway.

  Her heart stumbled in a painful, broken beat. Adrian. God, she hoped this kept him safe. Pinching her eyes closed, she prayed harder than she ever had in her life. She swallowed back tears. Please let him be safe.

  Chapter Four

  Two weeks had passed since she’d run from Trevor. From Refuge. From Adrian. Her soul cried out for him, twisting her on the sheets of cheap motels night after night. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest. When she did, she dreamed of him, wanted him. She’d bounced all over the southwest on buses and planes, wherever her cash could take her. Santa Fe, Phoenix, and now Las Vegas.

  And Trevor had found her. Again. She knew he would. She’d made herself easy to track this time, hoping to lure him away from Refuge. It worked. And now that she knew he’d followed, she needed to shake him loose. She just hoped she could. No more hiding among the werekind. She’d have to make her way with humans. Only then might she have a chance.

  He was waiting for her outside her hotel. She could smell him. Her heart hammered in her chest, and sweat dampened the back of her shirt. She pulled her pack over her back and tightened the straps. Creeping down the back stairs, she slipped into the kitchen. Smiling at the staff, she walked fast enough that no one bothered to question her. After she opened the backdoor, she peeked out to look both ways to see if Trevor was out there. With the constant traffic on The Strip, she’d go farther, faster on foot.

  Darting out of the door, she jogged down to the end of the alley. Rain—so unusual for Las Vegas—fell in a steady downpour and had for hours. She was soaked within a few minutes. She peered around the corner…and she saw Trevor. He stood at the back entrance of the hotel, waiting for her. And he’d seen her. Spinning around, she sprinted down the alley to the front of the hotel and out onto the sidewalk.

  The deep roar of an angry bear split the loud sounds of city. It spurred her to new speed. She desperately wished she could shift into lion form, go faster. Faster. She needed to run faster. Her heartbeat jack-hammered. Sweat slid down her face with raindrops to sting her eyes. She didn’t bother to wipe it away, just ran. Glancing back, she caught a glimpse of Trevor’s face, mottled red with fury. Her feet slapped down harder on the wet pavement as she sprinted.

  She turned a corner and slammed into a broad chest. A familiar broad chest. Adrian. Tears welled in her eyes—she was so relieved to see him. But, oh holy Jesus, Trevor was right behind her. “We have to get out of—”

  Her words trailed off when she actually looked at him. Oh, shit. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. His jaw flexed as he gazed down at her, silent rage darkening his face. He glanced over her shoulder, then back down at her. A hard hand closed over her upper arm. She jerked back, and his grip tightened. “Get in the car, Cleo.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Get. In. The. Car. Cleo.”

  She swallowed, turned, and climbed into the passenger seat of a sleek black BMW. Her door locked, and she had a feeling if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to get out. He wasn’t letting her escape.

  Bastard. But her panic had receded. As angry as he was, she didn’t think he was angry enough to hurt her. Not like Trevor would if he caught her. Of the two, she’d rather deal with Adrian.

  He loped around the car, popped his door open, and slid behind the wheel. The car purred to life, spinning away from the curb. She craned her neck to see behind them, searching for Trevor through the rain-blurred windows. “Where are we going?”

  He ignored the question. “You’re not very good at running, Cleo.”

  “Well, I went to college, not spy school.” Asshole. Her fists clenched in her lap, but she kept that sentiment to herself. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere safe. Don’t worry.”

  “The hell you say. I’m worried. That man—” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “That man will kill me without blinking. He’s spent weeks hunting me down, and he’s not going to give up. And since he got past the world-renowned security of your resort, you’ll forgive me if I have to question your definition of safe.” Her chest heaved as the words rushed out.

  He snorted. “Are you done?”

  “Fuck. You.” Rage exploded in her veins, and she felt her fangs slide out before she hissed at him.

  His fingers stroked down the wheel, and he didn’t even bother to look at her. “I believe that’s what got me into this mess.”

  Hurt slammed into her, hitting her like a hard slap across the face. She gasped at the harshness of his words. They were true—she knew they were. But coming from her mate, they clawed at her soul. Her mouth snapped shut, and all the fight drained out of her. She looked out the passenger side window as the Las Vegas Strip sped past in a blur of neon lights.

  “I’m sorry. I would never have dragged anyone into this on purpose. I hope you believe that, if nothing else.”

  He cleared his throat. She could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to look. What more could she say? She had no excuses. Alcohol soaked bad judgment wasn’t good enough for putting someone’s life in danger. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the glass. All the weeks—years, if she were honest with herself—of fear and tension caught up with her, rolling over her in a wave of exhaustion. It was hopeless. She’d never escape Trevor. She was a failure at hiding.

  A warm, strong hand wrapped around hers, tugging it from her lap. She twisted in her seat to look at Adrian. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers. “Forgive me, angel. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  She blinked at him, surprise darting through her. He didn’t seem the kind of man who even knew what an apology was, let alone how to offer one gracefully.

  “I’ll keep you safe, Cleo. No matter what, we’re in this together.” He slanted her a quick glance out of those icy green eyes before focusing on the road.

  “You shouldn’t have to be stuck with me. No one should. You can still walk away.”

  He arched a brow that clearly meant to question her sanity. “We’re mated. I can’t walk away from you.”

  She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  “What?”

  He heaved a sigh and ignored her question again. “We’re going to a house out by Lake Mead my family owns. It’s where we used to go during summers when I was growing up to escape and have some down time.”

  “A retreat from everyone else’s retreat?” She lifted her eyebrows.

  “Yeah. The resort is our business—one of many—but not our vacation.”

  “I understand.” She let herself smile. “I love it there, though. Refuge.”

  “Good, because you’ll be spending the rest of your life there. Except when we’re on vacation.”

  “Adrian . . .” Wariness slid over her. She wasn’t even sure enough to plan for the next day, let alone the rest of her life. She just wanted to survive long enough to die of old age. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? “I don’t—”

  “I do. We’re mated, we’re going to get through this, and then we’ll figure the rest out.” He slid his thumb in soothing circles over her palm, and she relaxed into the soft leather seat, while the car’s heater wrapped her in warmth.

  She blinked slowly. When was the last time she’d slept? She shook her head, trying to force herself back to wakefulness.

  “I’ll keep you safe, Cleo. I swear it.”

  She shouldn’t beli
eve him. She barely knew him. Maybe it was the mating that made her want to trust implicitly, no questions or doubts. But she felt safe for the first time in forever, her fingers cradled in his strong hand, his big body radiating assurance. She was desperate for that, for some small chance at hope. She couldn’t do this alone anymore. She was always alone. A wave of self-pity washed over her, and she couldn’t seem to push it back as she usually did. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying.

  He continued to rub his thumb across her hand. “Just relax now. Nothing will happen to you while I’m here. Try to sleep.”

  It didn’t seem she had a choice. She obeyed the soft command. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to matter to someone besides the obsessed Trevor. She wanted to be safe. Just for a little while, she assured herself. For a little while she’d take advantage of what he offered before she ran once more. It was selfish and stupid, but she needed him. Adrian.

  “Sleep,” he said again. Her body relaxed bonelessly into the heated seats and within moments the world had faded to nothing but the soothing swish of windshield wipers and the rocking of the car. Safe, protected, cherished.

  Fury pumped through Adrian’s veins as he watched Cleo curl up in obvious exhaustion. Dark shadows smudged her eyes. What had she been through these past weeks? His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to shake her for running from Refuge. It was done now, and he had her back. His younger brothers were meeting them at the lake house, and he suspected Trevor wouldn’t be far behind. A nasty smile curved his lips. Nico took his job as the family’s security expert seriously, and he was damn good at his work. And severely pissed at the slip that had allowed Trevor to get in—Nico angry was enough to chill the blood.

  Adrian took a circuitous route to the lake, just complicated enough that it should take Trevor a day or more to track them, but not too difficult that he wouldn’t be able to find them. And then he could face whatever Nico had planned for him. Adrian didn’t trust himself to deal with the man, and he had enough to handle with his runaway mate.