Chapter 9
Brock was the last to arrive at the warehouse on the night of the full moon. “More reporters?” Remy said.
“Tomorrow, I’m painting the damn windows black,” he said. “Sorry to keep you all waiting.”
Phillipe, the large man with hair almost as golden as his eyes, shrugged. “Better late than trailing cameras.”
Remy nodded. “Let’s begin. The moon’s call will soon be too strong to ignore.”
The six members of the clan stripped. They had all seen each other naked before and would many times again. Because of the nature of the change, a certain familiarity had to exist between members of a clan, but that familiarity didn’t mean they casually undressed around each other on any other occasion. Because of the forced familiarity brought on by the change, they were extremely concerned with and respectful of each other’s privacy the rest of the time.
“We are gathered here tonight to answer the moon’s eternal call. We, her children, answer and offer our beasts to her glory.”
The words Remy spoke were old. Brock remembered being a boy, preparing for his first change at eleven, and his father explaining the words of tradition to him.
“Our change is almost impossible to resist under the light of the full moon. No one knows why this is, but our ancestors believed the moon was a goddess, the mother of the shifters.”
Young Brock had stared at his father with wide-eyed amazement as the older man spun tales of ancient days and the ancient religious rituals that went with them.
“Most shifters don’t believe the moon is a goddess anymore, but traditions are important, so the clan leader says the words every month when we meet under the full moon. Because it is important for us to remember where we came from. Especially now as our numbers dwindle.”
In the present, the clan said “for her glory eternal,” in one voice, and then they gave in to the change.
As always, Brock’s hands and feet changed first. He had to be careful to have his clothes off before the change started because once it started his thumbs disappeared. Jules went nose to tail. Each in turn changed in their own way, quick or slow, motley or smooth, different to each one but the same every time.
Soon six bears stood in the circle. Phillipe was the only bear with brown fur, and Jane was the smallest. Jules was black with a brown muzzle, and Remy was black with a white crescent on his chest. For a long moment, they eyed each other warily as the confusion of the change faded and man and beast joined together in the minds of the bears.
Then they were off in search of food. In preparation for the full moon, the barrels had been stuffed with food and stuck in hard to reach places. The bears climbed and bashed and pulled and pushed and rolled the barrels around until they finally worked the tops off with their great paws. They ate and argued and wrestled and played.
Somewhere near dawn they began to yawn, and slowly, one by one, they returned to their human forms.
“I hate when this is in the middle of the week,” Jane said. “I’m going to be exhausted at work tomorrow.”
“Couldn’t book the day off?” Phillipe asked. He worked nights as a bouncer for a fancy club and was going home to sleep for twelve hours.
“No. At least if I’m tired my bear won’t want to rip the faces off my obnoxious co-workers.”
They all chuckled at that.
“What about you?”
Brock looked at them. “Budget meeting. Again. Thank God Gia knows what’s going on. She’ll keep me awake and on point.”
“You’re not sleeping with her, are you?” Phillipe said.
All eyes turned to Brock. “No, I’m not. I’ve known her less than two weeks and I work with her. I can’t have the papers running stories about sex scandals in City Hall.”
“But you want to.”
Brock glared at Philippe. Brock didn’t work out enough to take the other man in a fair fight, but right now he wanted to punch him, clan rules be damned. “No, I don’t.”
It was a lie and he knew it even as he said it. But he put the force of his temper behind the words and hoped that was enough to hide the lie from his clan.
If they sensed it, they didn’t call him on it.
“At least she’s trustworthy,” Remy said. “Took good care of him after the shooting. We shouldn’t have to worry about her turning on us.”
No one said Stephanie’s name. No one mentioned Jules’ father either.
“It’s late,” Remy went on. “Or early, depending on how you look at it. I’m ordering you all to go home.”
“You won’t get any argument from me,” Jane muttered, grabbing her purse from the chair.
The guys chuckled. Jane could be argumentative at the best of times. Feeling relaxed and in good spirits, they headed for their cars.
Brock got home with two hours to sleep, shower, change, and eat before he’d have to leave for work. No being late today—not with the budget meeting scheduled for first thing. He’d be in that conference room all morning juggling numbers and priorities. Not for the first time, he considered himself lucky to have an assistant with a background in business. Gia understood numbers and budgets and accounting, and she was organized.
Maybe when Marsha comes back I can entice Gia into working for my company for a while. And not as someone’s assistant either. I’d offer her a client account to manage.
He was in his room stripping down with the intent of catching an hour’s sleep. Maybe he could push it to an hour and a half if he rushed through the shower and had coffee for breakfast. Sleep was winning out over food. Sleep had been winning out over everything, and thoughts of schedules and budget meetings were boring enough to keep it that way. But thinking about Gia changed things.
He crawled into bed thinking about her. It started out innocent enough. He pictured her face, slender and smooth. Her skin was soft, her lips full and warm. He remembered kissing her. It had been one hell of a kiss, enough to wake his arousal. He’d managed to calm himself and stay calm while they got her through the hospital and then back to City Hall to pick up her car, but he’d been aching by the time he got home.
He was feeling pretty hot again now. Her face haunted him. Whenever he closed his eyes, she was there, smiling. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to see where the kiss would lead. She’d responded to him with hunger. There was nothing timid about the way she fisted her hand in his hair and pressed her lips against his. He didn’t like timid women.
The heat was concentrating in his groin, and he knew he was getting hard just thinking about her. He’d held her close, knew there was strength in her, but he longed for what he hadn’t been able to feel. He longed to know how smooth and soft the skin of her arms and stomach were. He wanted to trace every curve and dimple, explore the rise and fall of her body with his hands, and with his mouth. He wanted to taste more than her lips.
He wanted to feel her, skin to skin, pressed against his body. He wanted to sleep like that, wrapped around her, the heat of her melting into him.
He reached down and took his erection in hand. He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, for her to touch him. He had lied to his clan, but there was no lying to himself, not when he was so hard it was almost painful. He gave up on sleep and self-control and let himself imagine what it would be like to be with her while he touched himself.
When he was done, he headed for the shower, kissing the idea of sleep goodbye.
Chapter 10
Budget meetings were boring, but this one kept Gia on her toes. Brock had come in with the start of dark circles beneath his eyes. It was the morning after the full moon, so of course he’d been at the warehouse all night. She had suggested moving the meeting to another day, or at least until the afternoon, but he’d been insistent.
“With this Human Order business going on, we’re already late presenting the budget to City Council and to the public. I have a job to do. I can’t let people think that I’m putting my personal life ahead of my job.”
“What about your well-being?” she said. “And what about the fact that you’re more likely to make a mistake if you’re tired?”
“Maybe in a few months, when things have settled down a little. Right now, I have to focus on my job.”
And they had been focusing on work. Between the City Council meetings, planning meetings for various infrastructure projects, budget meetings, meetings with the police about the Human Order, his clan obligations, and meetings about City Hall security in the wake of the attack, they had been booked solid for the last week—and for the next five weeks. Multiple meetings every day, short lunches, long hours; it was going to take a toll on both of them.
It was already taking a toll on her. The long hours together had made it impossible to put the kiss out of her mind. She’d tried to think up some excuse to explain why she had let her control slip like that. She’d worked out how she’d apologize to him when it came up in conversation. She was trying to forget the electric ‘zing’ that had gone through her body when he had touched her like that, kissed her like he wanted her, but it was hard when she worked so close to him that she could smell his cologne.
She wasn’t sure what it meant that he hadn’t brought it up yet. Maybe he’s waiting for me to bring it up. Maybe he’s as overwhelmed with all this work as I am. She put it out of her mind and smiled at him.
“Good morning. There’s coffee in my office,” she had said as he came in.
He smiled. “Thank you. My cup didn’t last the drive here.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“A nap,” he lied.
She watched the red creep up his cheeks and wondered why he’d be blushing. “Are you ready for this meeting?”
He had said yes, but now as they neared hour two of the meeting it was obvious that she would have to be on the ball for him. She handed him the appropriate reports, pointing out the section that this councilor or the other was talking about. She took notes and she wrote him notes reminding him of ideas they’d come up with or something he’d been planning to talk about.
She was pretty sure no one else in the room noticed.
After the meeting, she herded him back to his office and then steered him toward the couch. “I can’t work from here with my computer over there,” he said.
“I am going to sort emails and return phone calls,” she said. “You are going to take a nap. We’ll review anything important that comes up over lunch, and then we have a meeting about roads this afternoon.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said.
“Work yourself in to an early grave, probably,” she said. “And that would make my father extremely happy.”
“I didn’t think Mr. Carosa wished me ill.”
“He doesn’t. But he’s been eyeing a few of your subsidiary companies for years now.”
“Ah, an opportunist then. Are you sure you’re not working for him?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be insisting that you nap. Go. If something urgent pops up, I’ll wake you.” On her way out she set his phone to forward all calls automatically to her office.
Gia was packing her bag after the roads meeting and humming to herself. There was a knock at the door between the two offices, and she turned to see Brock leaning against the door frame. “I think you probably saved my job today,” he said.
She laughed. “Hardly. Try to catch up on your sleep this weekend, okay?”
“I was wondering if I could treat you to dinner sometime this weekend.”
She focused on the files she was packing, deliberately keeping her back to him. “I’m going out with friends this weekend.”
“All weekend?”
“No.” The word came out long and drawn out.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened this week.”
He had moved closer, she could sense it, the way you could feel when someone was staring at the back of your head for too long. “I could go a lifetime without talking about the shooting,” she said. “Everyone wants to talk about it and I’d rather just put the whole thing behind me.”
“I didn’t mean the shooting.”
“Then talk.”
“Do you think here is a good place for this conversation?”
She sighed. “No, you’re right. I’m just not sure what to say. I … Let me check in with my friend. She wasn’t sure if she was free tonight or tomorrow night. Once I know what’s going on with her …”
“Sunday,” he said. “Then I have to have you home on time—and me too. Just the mayor and his assistant meeting for dinner on a Sunday evening to discuss some upcoming business. No one has any right to get up in arms about it. Besides, it’s not a huge scandal if we’re friends.”
“No, I guess not. We’ll see about Sunday. My mom is feeling very protective lately and might want a family dinner that night.”
“You have my number. Let me know what works for you and where I’m taking you.”
“You know, my dad told me that if you ever offered I was to ask to go to Restaurant August and get the yellowtail cru with wine.”
It was Brock’s turn to laugh. “One of the most expensive dishes at one of New Orleans’ most expensive restaurants. Your father is a sly man. Does he eat lunch in his office?”
“Usually, why?”
“I’m tempted to order it for him on Monday, minus the wine, and have them deliver it to his desk.”
She turned to face him. “Would they deliver?”
“Not likely, and it would take a lot of sweet talking and a very big tip to get the food to go. I could have someone from my office pick it up and deliver it, courtesy of Brock Tandell.”
Her smile widened until her whole face lit up. “You should do it. You do that and we can go to my favorite little sushi place this weekend. I promise, the meals are under fifty bucks.”
He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her cheek and shoved his hand in his pocket instead. “Deal. Call me about the time.”
She went with Carol to a little club on the lake Friday night. There was a seafood grill on the patio overlooking the water and a Cajun band with a cute fiddle player, and Gia let loose and danced until her feet hurt. She took a taxi home and slept until two the next afternoon.
She spent a few hours looking over files for work in a comfortable but ratty bathrobe and then showered and dressed for her dinner with Brock. She hesitated to call it a date, though date didn’t always have a romantic connotation. Still, with Brock, it was too easy to forget that they were colleagues, professionals who worked closely together but had to maintain that professional distance.
He did say we could be friends, and I think I would like that.
The sushi place wasn’t fancy, so she tossed on an airy summer dress, left her hair down, and grabbed a pair of low strappy sandals. She was down the stairs and halfway to the front door when her phone dinged in her purse. She pulled it out without stopping to find a text waiting from Brock.
“I’m out front.”
She breezed out the door, down the short walk, and up to the waiting car.
“That was fast,” he said as she slid in.
“I was on my way out,” she said. “And there you were. You know where you’re going?”
He reached up, hit the On-Star button, and told it where he wanted to go. The slightly digitized female voice gave him a set of directions and he smiled at her.
“Show off,” she muttered, but she was smiling.
The roads were busy, especially downtown where the restaurants and clubs were coming alive for the evening.
The sushi place wasn’t too small and had a corner location giving it lots of windows. There were paneled in semi-private dining rooms along one wall, each with a traditional low table. Out in the main dining area the tables were the same as one would expect in any dining establishment with comfortable chairs. The décor was classy with traditional Asian elements, and the lighting was low, giving it a cozy yet upscale atmosphere.
“I like it,” he said, nodding. “For two,” he said to the hostess, smiling.
Gia felt a tremor go through her at the sight of that smile. She was starting to adore the way he smiled.
Once they were seated, he glanced at the menu and said, “What do you recommend?”
“Have you had sushi before?”
“Surprisingly, I’m more of a steak and potatoes kind of guy.”
“Actually, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Really? Every other member of my clan is a huge fish eater. Growing up in New Orleans, with the Creole dishes, the water so close, and of course, bears eat a lot of fish.” His voice dropped for the last part. “My mother was a fantastic cook, made a lot of traditional Creole, Cajun style dishes. My father loved fish.”
“You still look like a steak and potatoes kind of guy to me. Are you willing to eat raw fish?”
“I’d be willing to give it a try.”
They spent a few minutes discussing the menu, and then they ordered and sat back to wait for their food.
“How was your night out yesterday?” he asked.
“Wonderful. We had so much fun. I used to go for lunch with her all the time because we worked across the hall from each other. I miss that.”
“I guess eating with me in the office every day isn’t quite the same thing.”
She felt her cheeks warm and she hoped the room was dim enough that he wouldn’t notice. “No, not quite.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She remembered doing the same thing, running her fingers through his thick black hair while he rested his head on her lap.
“Gia, I wanted to talk to you about what happened at the warehouse before it made things awkward between us.”
“It’s okay, I understand completely. It was a stressful day. We sort of bonded over what happened. We were close, and you were…” She stopped, took a deep breath, and kept going. “I understand if it was a mistake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he said. “But we work together.”
“I know,” she said. “We don’t want people talking.”
“Exactly. Maybe later, when Marsha comes back …”
“No, it’s okay. I’m not expecting anything because of it.”
Brock reached across the table and touched the back of her hand. “Gia, if I had met you under different circumstances I wouldn’t hesitate to sweep you off your feet and seduce you with every trick I know.”
“I don’t want to quit my job,” she said.
“I’m not asking you to. But we must remain professional. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Thanks again for covering for me this afternoon. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Isn’t the compliment the other way?” she said.
When he gave her a puzzled look she laughed, but she waited for the waitress to set all the plates on the table before continuing.
“It’s ‘thank you for the great night, I was exhausted all day.’”
He grinned. “I would have had time for a nap before work, but I got distracted.”
“By the maid?”
“Thinking about you.”
This time when she blushed, she knew there was no hiding it, but she didn’t look away. “And I didn’t get any fun out of your sleepless night. I should have picked a more expensive restaurant.”
“That’s one way to make me pay, sure.”
“I can think of other ways,” she shot back. She looked him over and licked her lips.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Dinner is on me?”
“That’s one way to put it.” She picked up a sushi roll with her chop sticks and popped it in her mouth.
“Now that’s talent.”
“I have lots of talents.”
“Any more that involve your mouth?”
“Yeah, bailing exhausted mayors out of trouble at long winded meetings by answering questions for them.”
“Touché. Point for the young lady.”
“Ooh, I like keeping score. What’s my prize if I win?”
“Dinner at a fancier restaurant.”
“Does it come with a fancier date?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Ouch. Two points. I don’t think I’ll catch up. And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
It wasn’t a suit, and she hadn’t been sure he owned anything else. The jeans looked good on him, made the button-down shirt that he had on, sleeves rolled to his elbows, look casual—even though it probably cost him more than her entire outfit. He had a pair of sunglasses folded, one arm tucked in his breast pocket.
“There is nothing wrong with the way you look,” she said. “And if you were fishing for compliments, you get the point.”
He grinned. “Good. I need all the help I can get.”
“Don’t I know it.”
The banter continued through the meal, which they finished quickly. He paid and they wandered outside. “Drinks?” he asked. “Or a stroll? It’s a lovely night.”
“I really think I should get my boss home at a decent hour. He’s been really tired at work lately.”
“You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Oh, just wait until I make you pay for the ‘dreaded temp’ comment.”
“In all fairness, I only said that before I met you. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“Why don’t you come up for a glass of wine. I was looking over some files, and I found something that might interest you.”
“We’re talking business now, right?”
“Oh, there are lots of things at my place I could show you that would be of great interest to you, but I’m only showing you the ones that pertain to work.”
“Witty and a tease,” he said. “I’m doomed.”
She let them in to the lobby and hit the button for the elevator. Normally she just took the stairs, but the idea of him following behind her, a few steps down, while she was wearing a flirty skirt and had just spent the entire evening flirting with him, didn’t seem wise. The doors slid shut closing them in together, and she began to doubt the wisdom of this decision.
“Are you going to focus?” she said. “Or do you need another nap on the couch?”
“No, I don’t need to sleep right now.”
They made it to her apartment and she went to the fridge for a bottle of wine. She turned around to find he was standing right behind her. Her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest.
He took the bottle from her. “Where are the glasses?”
She pointed to a cupboard.
“I got this. You find what you wanted to show me.” He poured the wine and joined her in the living room where she had papers strewn across the coffee table.
“This one,” she said, pointing.
He sat down to read over the paper. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, this could work. I can’t believe I didn’t see this. Gia you’re …”
She wasn’t listening. She was leaned in beside him, reading the paper over his shoulder, or at least she was supposed to be reading. She could smell his cologne, feel the heat of his body, and it was distracting her.
He turned to look up at her, still talking, and she cut him off with a kiss. It was stupid, she knew that, and she expected him to pull back, to scold her and remind her that they had agreed to stay professional, but he didn’t. He grabbed the back of her neck and pressed his lips against hers. She moved around the chair, still kissing him, and he pulled her in close.
It was a big chair, but not big enough for them to both sit in it, which is how she ended up straddling his lap, her skirt riding up her thighs and her hair falling over his face.
They didn’t stop at eager but raced headlong into passionate. He nipped her lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth, and she purred with pleasure. She kissed along his jaw and down his neck. He ran his hands up and down her back, over her legs, and then cupped her ass before grabbing her hips and pulling her down against him.
Her body was on fire with need, and she was breathing hard between kisses. He kissed her jaw and she arched her back, offering him her throat. He kissed her there too, and worked his way lower, following the collar of her dress.
The kissing was good, but she wanted to feel him again, and she brought her body down on his lap once more. He was hard—she could feel it through the jeans and the thin fabric of her panties. The denim was rough, but she rubbed up against him anyway. He pushed his hands along her thighs, pushing her dress up higher and higher.
There was a knock at the door and she swore.
“Someone has keys?” he whispered in her ear. His voice was strained with desire and panic.
“My dad,” she hissed and called, “hold on.” She scrambled off his lap. “Do I look mussed?”
“Run your hand through your hair, you’ll be fine.”
She hurried to the door and opened it with a smile. “Dad! I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“Business meeting,” she said. “I think you already know Brock.”
Brock had grabbed a stack of papers and had them on his lap as though he were reading them. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Only by reputation. We’ve never actually met. I’m not staying. I would have just called, but I was driving by so I thought I’d tell you in person. Your mother must cancel for tomorrow. Is next weekend okay?”
“Should be fine.”
“Great. I’ll let her know.” He waved and Brock raised a hand in return. Then he was gone.
Gia leaned against the door, the strength going out of her knees. When she heard the familiar ding of the elevator down the hall, she said, “Well shit, that was close.”
Brock was coming toward her.
If he kisses me I’m done for.
“I should go. We’ll finish this at the office on Monday.”
“This?” she squeaked.
“The paperwork.”
“Right.” She exhaled heavily. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Gia, when Marsha comes back, you’re mine. So, don’t even think about running.”
She just nodded and stepped away from the door. When he was gone, she said to no one in particular, “That was so stupid.”