23
The wolf is upon me in no time, but it doesn’t pounce the way… Jesus. Was that Sam who attacked me outside the mansion? This one is definitely Jackson. I can tell by the ice-blue eyes. He nudges my hand with his nose.
“Get. The fuck. Away from me.”
He lowers to his haunches and whines. He’s enormous. Twice the size of a normal wolf with a thick, silver coat. A beautiful wolf, but definitely deadly.
I blink, and he’s a man, again, crouching beside me. Naked. “Hey. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that!” My strangled voice sounds slightly hysterical. I’m generally someone who prides herself on keeping it together, but this situation has thrown me for a total loop.
I run up the hill. In my periphery, the wolf appears, trotting by my side, like he’s decided to become my pet. “Go home,” I command. If only he were a simple dog I could send running home.
Of course, he keeps trotting along beside me.
I glare at him. “So, you’re a werewolf? That’s your big secret? And what? You have to bite someone on the full moon? Something like that?”
Jackson-or rather, the wolf-whines again.
“What do you want with me?” I sob.
He licks my moving calf.
“No!” I shout. “Don’t touch me. Stop following me. Go. Home.” A rock twists under my foot, and I go down on my knee, hard. Pain shoots through my entire leg. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore it.
When I open them, Jackson’s in human form again. Naked. He scoops me into his arms.
“No,” I protest. “Put me down.”
He walks stone-faced down the hill. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m not going back inside that house with you.” My stubborn side has risen up, immune to logic. If he’s a dangerous werewolf, waiting to turn me, he’s not going to care where I want to go.
But Jackson stops. His shoulders sag. “Okay, fine.” He starts running up the hill at incredible speed.
I clutch his shoulders. “Where are you taking me?” I gasp.
“I have a cabin up on the mountain.”
Great. He’s taking me somewhere even more remote so he can turn me. Except, I’m no longer afraid. Now that the initial horror has worn off, my brain is starting to get back online.
“Jackson, what happens when you bite someone?”
“A serum coats my teeth. It leaves my scent in your skin.”
“And turns me into a werewolf?”
“No.” He keeps moving at dizzying speed, his bare feet and long strides eating up the mountain. I can’t imagine how his feet don’t get torn up. “We don’t change people,” he says stiffly, and I realize, with a bubble of amusement, that I may have offended him.
“But I am in danger? What does the serum do?”
He stops running and closes his eyes in resignation. “When a wolf picks his mate, he marks her with his teeth. A mating serum coats his fangs and permanently leaves his scent on her, so other wolves know she’s been claimed.”
I gape at him. Illogically, a hot pulse starts up between my legs.
“Did… do you want to mark me?”
“I can’t,” he grits, once more ascending the mountain. “A human couldn’t withstand such a bite. Shifters heal quickly, but a human would lose blood, maybe even die. Shifters don’t mate with humans.”
A cloud seems to roll over us. “Ah. That’s why Sam said you couldn’t be with me.”
“Right.” He clenches his jaw so hard I swear it will shatter.
A small log cabin comes into view. He retrieves a key from the top of the doorframe and opens the door. Inside is a beautifully appointed mountain cabin, simple but comfortable. He carries me to the leather couch and arranges me on it, with my back against the armrest and legs elevated on the cushions. My ankle has doubled in size from the swelling, and my knee is cut and bruised as well.
“I’ll get some ice.” Jackson disappears around the corner. When he returns, he’s pulled on a pair of jeans and carries a dishcloth wrapped around a cold pack. He crouches by my feet and applies the pack.
“I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”
He gives an impatient shake of his head. “No, I’m glad you did. I would’ve bitten you.”
I stare at my throbbing ankle, unable to look at Jackson. “Well, I’m flattered, I guess.”
He lets out a harsh laugh that doesn’t sound amused at all. When he stands, he stabs his fingers through his hair like he did last night.
“Now, you understand. I’m dangerous to you, Kylie.”
I study him through narrowed eyes. “I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf.”
His eyes look haunted. “Learn to be. Listen, I need to get to the office. I have the feds to deal with.” He walks to an old-fashioned desk and pushes the lid up. Inside, the comforting lights of a wireless router flash. He pulls out a laptop and brings it to me. “You can work from here. Or I’ll go back and get the car and drive you down the mountain.”
“Here is fine,” I say quickly. For some reason, I’m not ready to go back to his mansion.
“There’s food in the cabinets. I’ll bring you things so you don’t have to get up.”
He leaves and returns with a loaf of bread and peanut butter and jelly, along with a can of oysters. “I wish I had a painkiller to offer you, but shifters don’t use them.”
Shifters. It’s still setting in, but now that it has, it makes him all the more fascinating and attractive. No wonder I’d had a teen crush on Jackson King. He is superhuman.
“I’m really sorry about freaking out. I’m embarrassed. I wish we could have a do-over, and I’ll be uber cool about it. Can we try?”
A reluctant smile tugs at Jackson’s lips. “How would it go?”
“I’d be like, oh, you’re a werewolf. That’s cool. Don’t forget the condom.”Original from NôvelDrama.Org.
A shadow descends over his face, perhaps at the reminder of the condom mishap. “I’m bad for you,” he says tightly. “This… can’t work.”
Something tightens in my solar plexus. I want to grab him and tell him I’m not afraid, but he snatches me first, stamps his lips over mine, twisting over my mouth with an intensity I find dizzying.
I sense the desperation in the kiss.
The goodbye.
“Don’t message me. I don’t want anyone to trace you through me. I’ll be back tonight. As soon as I can. Do you want me to send Sam up to check on you?”
I shake my head, swallowing down my disappointment. “No, I’m solid. I will keep working on the malware. Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Why haven’t they contacted me if my grandmother’s still alive?”
He frowns. “Maybe they’re hanging onto her in case they need more leverage on you?”
I shake my head. “No, they leaked my history to the press. This was definitely a frame.”
He touches my shoulder , and I swear I feel his strength transferring into me, warming me. “I don’t know, but my gut says she’s alive, too.”
He kisses me again and shucks the jeans. His cock is still hard, mouth-wateringly impressive.
I watch this time as he transforms. There’s a shimmer in the air and then he drops to all fours, a huge, beautiful wolf. I dare to stretch a hand out to touch his fur, and he licks it then licks the wound on my knee clean. It tingles. I remember a doctor in Mexico recommending I get a dog to lick a cut on my hand to make it heal faster. My dad and I had laughed at Third World medicine, but, of course, I’d researched it later, and there is something to it. I wonder if a werewolf’s saliva is even better?
I stroke his silky ears. I want to bury my hands in his fur, but he spins and trots toward the kitchen. I hear the swing of what must be a dog door and he’s gone.
So. Jackson King is a werewolf.
Now I know.
I’m surprised at how protective I feel over his secret. I will work even harder to straighten everything out at SeCure now that I know the company’s brilliant CEO is as vulnerable to being exposed as I was.