In a post-orgasmic haze, she watched him take off the rest of his clothes. The sight of his body—incredibly broad shoulders, massive chest sprinkled with red-gold hair, and a very proud and free erection—made her womb contract in anticipation.
No doubt about it, Quentin enriched her life. Despite her vow to live in the moment, her thoughts strayed to the agony of giving him up when she had to choose between duty and happiness.
Then he joined her on the bed, and she forgot all about duty as he rose over her and buried that impressive c*ck deep.
“I like this bed.” Holding himself still within her, he leaned down and brushed a kiss over her mouth.
“Why?”
He gazed into her eyes, his own bright with happiness. “It has you in it.”
As he began to move, his rhythm sure and steady, she realized that she was rather fond of this bed, herself. It was the only one she’d ever shared with him, perhaps the only one they ever would share.
Wrapping him tightly in her arms, she held on as he made slow, sweet love to her. His expression remained tender and his motions controlled as he watched her eyes, waiting . . . At the moment her cli**x teased her nerve endings, he knew.
Bearing down, he thrust hard and fast, taking her right where they both wanted to go. He urged her on, his gaze intense, his breath ragged. As she arched upward, her world splintering into facets of rainbow-hued joy, he drove into her once more and bellowed with satisfaction.
The air pulsed around them as they lay together and their breathing gradually slowed. Perfection didn’t exist. She knew that, and yet . . .
“Perfect,” she murmured.
He pressed his mouth against the curve of her shoulder. “Yes.”
They hadn’t bothered to turn out the lights before drifting off to sleep, so Quentin wasn’t sure if it was night or day when he awoke to the sound of the bedroom door being unlocked. Instinctively he pulled the covers over Nadia as he sat up.
She stirred. He laid a warning hand on her shoulder, keeping her down. He’d taken the side of the bed nearest the door on purpose. Yes, he’d locked it, but anyone could have a key.
The door had been unlocked by someone in human form, but when it swung open, a rangy, gaunt wolf with scraggly black fur stood in the doorway. Dark eyes focused intently on the bed. Quentin knew without question that Theo had arrived.
But Nadia’s brother wasn’t alone. Other wolves, no doubt his gang of rebels, crowded around the doorway, although they seemed to be holding back, waiting for some signal from their leader. Quentin counted five of them.
At last Quentin understood his role in this struggle. Although he had no time to shift into wolf form, he had to buy precious time for Nadia to do so. As a human female, she stood little chance against Theo, and during her shift, she was vulnerable to attack.
He swung his legs to the floor and stood, his gaze locked with Theo’s. Behind him, sheets rustled as Nadia began her shift.
With a growl, Theo lowered his head and advanced into the room.
“Stop right there.” Quentin flexed his fingers and widened his stance. As a human, nak*d and unarmed, he couldn’t overpower the werewolf, but he could delay him.
Theo feinted to the right, as if hoping to throw Quentin off balance and get around him. But Quentin was agile, accustomed to walking beams and climbing ladders. He easily moved to block the Were.
Snarling, Theo crouched, as if ready to spring.
No doubt the move was supposed to intimidate Quentin into stepping aside. Theo wouldn’t want to waste energy fighting Quentin, who was of no consequence.
Quentin had appointed himself as the distraction, so he baited the Were. “Bring it, punk. I’d love to get my hands around your scrawny neck.”
Eyes burning with fury, Theo lunged, knocking Quentin backward onto the bed as his front claws raked Quentin’s chest. Quentin wrapped his fingers around the Were’s neck and held on with everything he had. Even so, the powerful jaws strained ever closer to his throat.
Quentin gritted his teeth and squeezed, but he had no hope of choking the Were to death before Theo struggled free and ripped out Quentin’s throat. The fight would only last a few seconds more.
As he felt his fingers start to give way, he thought briefly that this was a stupid way for a werewolf to die. But he’d make the same choice all over again to protect Nadia.
Saliva dripped from Theo’s mouth onto Quentin’s bare skin as the Were sensed victory. Quentin anticipated the blinding pain and hoped it would be over fast.
It was. One second he was convinced he would die. The next, a large black wolf leaped over his head and rammed into Theo, sending the Were sprawling backward onto the carpet.
Gasping, Quentin pushed himself to a sitting position and gazed in wonder at Nadia’s transformation. Over the years he’d seen her many times in human form but somehow had missed seeing her like this.
She was magnificent, her black coat glossy and full, her movements graceful. But there was a look in her gray eyes he’d never seen before, a gleam of controlled fury that sent a shiver down his spine.
She wasn’t as big as Theo, but what she lacked in size, she made up for in agility. Although Theo had immediately scrambled to his feet to face his sister, his aggression toward her was wild and unfocused. He leaped and she dodged out of the way. He crashed head-first into a dressing table that splintered on impact.
Nadia waited, muscles coiled, as he staggered to his feet and shook his head. Then she circled him with deliberate intent.
He growled and hurled himself at her again, going for her throat. In a lightning-fast move, she ducked out of the way. Then she turned and clamped his hind leg in her jaws.
Quentin held his breath. If she bit down, she could cripple him, perhaps forever. Theo yelped in pain and then went very still except for his heaving sides and his rapid panting.
The communication between brother and sister was impossible for Quentin to hear in human form, but he knew it was taking place. As Weres, they lost human speech but gained mental telepathy. Even without being able to tune in, Quentin could see from their body language that Nadia had demanded Theo’s surrender.
The seconds ticked by, and finally Theo let his head droop between his shoulders. Nadia slowly released her grip on his leg. Theo turned and lowered himself to his belly in acknowledgment of his sister’s dominance. She had won.
Catching a movement by the door, Quentin glanced over as Theo’s five companions crept into the room and also lowered themselves to the floor. Nadia stood before them, head high, gaze steady, every inch the alpha female.
Then she turned to gaze at Quentin. Although telepathy wasn’t possible for him in this form, he saw the gratitude in her gray eyes, and something more . . . an invitation?
With a low whine she tossed her head toward the door. Then she padded quietly out of the room. The newly loyal members of her pack, including her subdued brother, rose and followed at a respectful distance.
Quentin couldn’t be absolutely sure, but he thought she’d invited him to follow her, too. Maybe she realized their time was running out. He’d done what he’d come here to do, and he’d vowed to disappear from her life once she no longer needed him.
He’d leave in the morning, but a glance at the clock told him that was several hours away. Dropping to all fours, he began his shift.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nadia made sure Theo retreated to his room at the opposite end of the house. Then she instructed his former companions to take turns guarding his door to make sure he didn’t sneak away or attempt to cause trouble.
She didn’t expect him to. She could see that his manic phase had ended. He would be docile and semi-repentant for days, possibly even for weeks.
Depression was the new danger, but fortunately Theo had never shown suicidal tendencies. In the morning she’d seek out a Were physician to evaluate her brother. She expected Theo would need medication, and she would make sure he took it.
She’d also consult with Aidan about a system that would electronically track Theo at all times. In many ways it was a relief to finally be able to do what must be done.
Also in the morning, Nadia planned to meet with her father and assure him he still had a valued role as her advisor. He’d mentioned recently that he was tired of his alpha responsibilities, but couldn’t quite make up his mind to step down. Now that the decision had been made for him, he might be relieved, as well, once his bruised ego had healed.
But those were tasks for tomorrow. The rest of the night was hers to do as she pleased, with whomever she pleased. Quentin had risked his life in order to make her victory possible, and she desperately wanted to be with him. She hoped he’d understood her signal.
She sat and waited for him at the foot of the majestic marble staircase. Like all Were mansions, Henderson House had wolf-friendly exits and entrances.
Although many benefits derived from shifting to Were form, a few human abilities were lost. Managing locked doors was one of those. Nadia would have to show Quentin the way out so they could slip into the concealing darkness together.
As she gazed upward, wondering if she’d have to go back and get him, she heard his voice in her head.
Where are you?
A surge of excitement made her tremble. He had understood and shifted. She’d never seen him in wolf form, and anticipation made her giddy. She rose to her feet. I’m at the foot of the stairs.