Firefighter Unicorn (Fire & Rescue Shifters 6)

“Well, I told you mine, so now you have to tell me yours.” She lifted her eyebrows at him expectantly. “So come on. Why do you hate your father so much?”

He blew out his breath. “You may have noticed that my mother doesn’t give me a headache.”

Now that she thought about it, it was a bit weird how casually he’d accepted his mother’s embrace. She’d seen enough of him by now to know that he was nearly as jumpy about touching people as she was.

“I’m assuming you weren’t a miraculous virgin birth,” she said. “So I’m guessing that just means that your mother, uh, isn’t that into certain activities at her time of life.”

“She hasn’t given me a headache since I was a very small child.” The corner of his mouth twisted. “Being in the same room as my father, on the other hand, gives me a splitting migraine.”

She blinked at him for a second, not getting it. Then the penny dropped.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

“Precisely.” His mouth tightened into a tense line, an old anger shadowing his eyes. “She’s chaste. He isn’t.”

“Ouch. They aren’t true mates then.”

“One can only assume not. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love him, though God only knows why.” His lip curled. “I suppose I should be grateful that he at least has the decency to be discreet about his infidelities. If it wasn’t for my sensitivities, I doubt I’d know about them. My parents have always led mostly separate existences. Mother and me up here in the main house, Father off on the other side of the estate in the Dowager House. His absence spared me from constant headache…but not my mother from constant heartache. I will never forgive him for that. Never.”

The ragged catch in his voice tugged at her own heart. More than anything, she wanted to go over to him, hold him tight and kiss away the pain of the past. But she didn’t dare. She was all too aware that they were alone together in a bedroom, just one temptation away from disaster.

From the heat kindling in Hugh’s eyes as his gaze swept over her, he was having much the same realization. He adjusted his position, abruptly stiff and awkward.

“Anyway.” His practiced, ironic smile flashed like a knife, killing the intimacy trembling between them. “That’s why I avoid my father. At least the feeling is mutual. He can’t stand to look at me either. But don’t worry. He’ll love you.”

She couldn’t tell from his bitter tone whether he was being sarcastic or not. “That would be a first. Why?”

“Because you’re his big chance. This is the man who took me to a brothel the day I turned eighteen, Ivy. He’s tried a thousand ways to pressure me into losing my unicorn. He claims that it’s a matter of necessity, that it’s my duty to sire an heir to ensure that the family line will continued unbroken. But I think he’s just jealous.”

“Because you’re a unicorn shifter?”

“I have what he lost, and it must eat him alive that I won’t give it up.” He grimaced. “To be honest, there have been times in my life when I only clung onto my unicorn out of sheer spite. I wanted to keep on hurting him, the way that he keeps on hurting my mother.”

“Hugh, this is bad,” she said, real fear gripping her stomach. She knew how to face down criminals and lowlifes, but an Earl? Under his own roof? “He’s going to work out what we are to each other eventually. What am I supposed to do if he starts pressuring me?”

“I won’t let him do that,” he said with fierce intensity, all his black, barbed humor dropping away. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

In a single swift movement, he crossed the room. His hands cradled her face, and her half-formed words fell away, burned into ash by the heat of his touch.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said again. “I can handle my father. He won’t bother you.”

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. She had to close her eyes, fisting her hands in the coverlet to stop herself from reaching out to him.

He released her again, though she could feel the effort it cost him. “Trust me, you won’t even have to meet him. It’s perfectly possible to avoid someone for years in this place.” His tone was light, but his eyes were still dark with desire. “It’s rather a big house.”

She let out a shaky laugh, sliding off the bed. “That’s the understatement of the century. Come on. Your mother will think we got lost.”

“Don’t joke. It’s a genuine hazard.” Hugh held the door open for her. “Once when I was seven, I took a wrong turn in the attic and went missing for two days. They eventually found me trying to make a fire out of an eighteenth century escritoire and a vintage Chanel ballgown. My mother was livid about the ballgown.”

She hesitated as she passed, looking up into his face. Despite his light-hearted manner, a cold sense of unease still lurked in the pit of her own stomach. Her wyvern arched its barbed tail, ready to strike.

Defend, her beast snarled. Protect our own. Kill any threat.

“It’s all right, Ivy,” Hugh said softly. Leaning down, he brushed the lightest, gentlest of kisses on her forehead. “You’re safe here. I promise.”

Far away in Brighton, a dot blinked on a satellite map, marking a location deep in the Wye Valley. Gaze leaned back in his office chair, regarding his laptop thoughtfully.