Desire the Night

“Nothing much. I went down to the casino for a little while, but it wasn’t any fun without you.”

“Do you think that was wise?”

She shrugged. “No one knows we’re here. And I can’t just sit around and watch TV all day, you know. I had to do something to pass the time waiting for you to wake up.”

“Impatient are you, Wolfie?”

“Of course not!” she replied, as if that were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “I was just bored.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all it is, I’m sure I can think of something to arouse your interest for the next ten or twelve hours.”

“Really?” She slipped one hand from his and trailed her fingertips over his chest. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, a little of this …” Leaning down, he kissed her, his tongue teasing hers. “A little of that.” He nuzzled the valley between her br**sts, then moved to the soft sweet spot beneath her ear.

Writhing beneath him, she murmured, “I’d like a little more of that.”

Chuckling, he ran his tongue along the side of her neck, then grazed her skin with his fangs.

“More.” She cupped the back of his head in her hands, holding him in place as she turned her head to the side. “Do it,” she urged. “Bite me.”

There was no way to resist, not when he could hear the way her heartbeat accelerated, the whisper of her life’s blood flowing hot and sweet through her veins.

She moaned softly as his bite coincided with the joining of his body to hers. Her hands moved restlessly up and down his back as pleasure upon pleasure swept through her.

There was a dull roaring in her ears that gradually morphed into the sound of someone pounding on the door. Confused, she looked at Gideon.

His expression brought her quickly back to reality. Springing from the bed, he hissed, “Your father is here. And he’s not alone. Victor and his father are with him.”

Jackknifing into a sitting position, Kay grabbed the bedspread and wrapped it around her, toga-style. “How did they find us?”

“Verah.” He swore under his breath.

“Why would she tell them … ? Oh.”

Gideon nodded. Verah wanted his blood. Victor wanted Kay.

There was another knock on the door, louder this time. “What’ll we do?” Kay asked, her gaze darting around the room.

“Get the hell out here.”

He reached for her hand as the door burst open. Russell, and Victor and Diego Rinaldi, rushed into the room.

With a savage howl, Russell grabbed hold of Kay’s arm and wrenched her away from Gideon.

Victor brandished a stake, his lips pulled back in a feral grin. His father, looking wary, held a bottle of what Gideon assumed was holy water.

Gideon glared at the three men. He had never run from a fight. He could have killed them all, but how could he destroy Kay’s father with her standing there, watching?

“Gideon, get out of here!” Kay hollered, tugging against her father’s hold. “Go! Now.”

He stared at her for stretched seconds; then, muttering a sharp oath, he dissolved into mist and vanished from sight.

Victor took a step toward her, his face mottled with rage. “You little whore… .”

“Shut up, Victor! That’s my daughter you’re talking to.”

Victor closed his mouth with an audible snap, but he continued to glare at Kay, his eyes filled with contempt.

Russell glanced around the room, noting Gideon’s clothes folded over the chair, his daughter’s clothing scattered on the floor, the bed rumpled, the sheets smelling of sex. “What have you done?”

Kay lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I’d think the answer should be obvious.”

Without warning, her father slapped her, a single, stinging blow.

She reeled backward, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes watering from the pain. But it was the disdain in her father’s eyes, the fact that he had actually struck her, that hurt the most.

“Victor, Diego, wait in the other room. Kiya, get dressed.”

She held her ground, waiting for her father to leave.

Russell shook his head, then moved to stand in front of the window, his back toward her. “You’ve defied me for the last time, daughter,” he said, his voice cold and without affection. “Get dressed.”

Kay’s hands were shaking as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Never in all her life had she been so humiliated, or seen her father so angry. Sitting on the bed to put on her shoes, she wondered how far Gideon had gone. And when, if ever, she would see him again.

Gideon hovered outside the Shadow Pack’s compound, invisible to human—and werewolf—eyes. He had dissolved into mist on leaving Kay, had followed her and the werewolves when they left the hotel. A taxi had awaited the four of them at the curb. It had been easy to stow away in the trunk.

The cab had stopped a short time later at a local airport, where Kay’s father had ushered her and the others into a private plane. Victor and his father, both silent on the ride to the airport, remained subdued as Kay’s father took the controls and taxied down the runway.

It had been an odd experience, taking to the air in a plane when he wasn’t in corporeal form. The flight from Vegas to a small landing strip outside the Pack’s compound had taken little more than an hour. He had stowed away in the trunk of the waiting car, only to be jerked out of it when the car passed through the gate in the fence. Someone—Kay’s father, no doubt—had rescinded Gideon’s invitation, rendering it impossible for him to cross the fence line.

A minor setback. He had more pressing needs at the moment; namely, to obtain something to wear. And something to eat. Not necessarily in that order.

When he returned, he would open the mind link between himself and Kay and let her know he was nearby.

And God help Russell Alissano if the man laid so much as a finger on Kay again.

Kay felt like a condemned felon as her father escorted her to one of the tiny rooms in the basement. They were little more than cells, really, a place where he confined new wolves who were having difficulty making the transition, or wolves who wantonly disobeyed pack rules. She supposed she fit the latter category.

Sitting on the narrow cot, with her knees drawn up to her chin, she stared at the wall. She had been locked up three times in a remarkably short period—first by Verah, then by Victor, and now by her father—and she was getting mighty damn sick of it. She was on her honeymoon, for crying out loud. She should be with Gideon, not locked up like a common criminal.