Chapter Seven
“Hey, Lover.” The woman’s voice was low and all kinds of sexy.
Sweat clung to Marcus’s skin, muscles still quivered. He smiled at the beautiful woman who was lying in his arms. She was gorgeous, perfect. Expensively styled sleek blonde hair cut in a bob. Dark brown sparkling eyes. High cheekbones. Full lips. With streamlined toned curves plastered against him. “Hello back.”
The blonde tossed her head, releasing a familiar throaty chuckle, it was a delightfully wicked sound, if a little too practised. “I’m very, very grateful you asked me to stay, but all things as they say must come to an end. Unless you’re up for round two?”
Was he? Shockingly, no. Even with this gorgeous woman lying naked in his arms his cock could have been less than interested. That was kind of worrying.
The blonde… By The Sun, what was the woman’s name? Damn, this was embarrassing. Round one had been great… hadn’t it? Shit, he couldn’t seem to call up specifics and worse, he couldn’t recall his playmate’s name. Weirder still how he was fighting the urge to push her away. Something was wrong. “Um…” Marcus glanced around the room. Recognising the grey walls, the sleigh bed, all familiar, except for the blonde.
Blonde? Admittedly she was gorgeous, and yet his cock couldn’t be convinced. What the hell was wrong with him?
“So…?” The blonde smiled at Marcus expectantly. Waiting for a move or some kind of response.
He couldn’t kick her out of bed, though that was his first instinct. Instead, Marcus hugged her gently, running fingers lightly along the pale skin of her collarbone. Hmm, the skin tone was wrong as well, it should have been a warmer colour. Crap, he was a bastard. He had obviously invited this woman home, and based on looks along and the swish designer suit and expensive lingerie strewn across his floor she was his normal, go to, type of woman. So he’d better get with the program and at least be polite. “When can we meet up again?”
“I have back to back meetings for the rest of the week. A quick trip to Chicago on Friday to sign a contract and then a charity function in the Hamptons on Saturday. How does Sunday work for you?”
Just how Marcus liked his women, focused and intense. Yet… something was holding him back. Her… what was her name again? Talk about impolite. “Sunday would be great.” Marcus answered automatically.
“And what do you have planned for the week?” The blonde idly traced a circle on his chest with a sharp fingernail.
“Same old, same old.” Marcus shifted slightly, hair falling into his eyes, impatiently he reached up to push it away, only to find that his hair was suddenly short and nowhere near his eyes. What the hell was going on?
“What about those rubies you were talking about?”
He’d told her about the rubies? He couldn’t even remember her name and he was spilling major secrets? Something was off here. Marcus tried to get up but suddenly the woman was straddling him, pushing him back down on the bed, a playful smile on her lips. “Not so fast, Lover.”
Damn, she was strong. “What the....” Marcus grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her off. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. But especially this woman was wrong. The curves should have been more rounded. The mouth more cupid bow shaped and the hair… it should have been darker, a lot darker.
“Honestly, it doesn’t have to be like this. Just tell me where the rubies are and I’ll be on my way.”
Marcus tried to struggle, buck the blonde off. But she was too strong, pinning him to the bed effortlessly. “Who the hell are you?”
Dark brown eyes blinked. “Men, even you don’t know what you want in life. I did my research. I’m your perfect woman. You should be a puddle at my feet, willing to do anything to keep me happy.” The blonde sighed. “This contract has been nothing but trouble from the get go. First, you won’t fall asleep. And when you do, you keep fighting me off. Well, not this time. I’ve got you right where I want you and I’m not letting you go until you tell me where those bloody rubies are.”
Marcus bucked and strained, desperately trying to dislodge the woman, creature, what ever she was pinning him to the bed. “No.” He pushed upwards, muscles straining, determined to break free.
Dark eyes flashed with worry as Marcus began to make some headway. “No.” The woman desperately pushed back.
Marcus strained harder still. Suddenly there was a loud crack, his head snapped to the side and he was free. With a speed born from anger and instinct, Marcus wrapped a hand around the woman’s throat, the next moment they were off the bed and he had her pinned against the nearest wall. “I’ll tell you nothing, understand?” He shook her hard. “Nothing.”
“Marcus?” His name was a strangled whisper, the eyes staring at him weren’t dark brown but hazel green.
“Shit.” He released his hold, just managing to catch hold of Riya before she hit the ground. “Riya! Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Marcus carried her back to the bed, sitting her carefully on the edge.
Riya reached up and rubbed her throat, swallowing with difficulty. She stared down at a kneeling Marcus, his assessing gaze lit with concern and warring guilt. “Ow.” Her voice just above a husky whisper.
“How badly did I hurt you? Do you need me to call Nell?”
Riya shook her head, slowly, carefully. “You… play rough, Charming.”
“I was… dreaming.”
Riya shook her head, wincing as her neck muscles protested. “No, it was… more than just a dream. I couldn’t wake you.”
Marcus released his hold on her, when Riya showed no signs of collapsing he turned quickly and headed into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. “Here.”
Riya gratefully took it, pressing the cool material against her throat. “Tell me about the dream?”
Marcus frowned, the details were already growing fuzzy, but there was something critical he needed to remember. “There was a woman, a blonde. Beautiful. We were… chatting.” And what? Come on, think. “She asked me about the rubies, where they were hidden.” He snapped his fingers. “She mentioned a contract.”
Riya swallowed, this time it was easier. Dragons, even half-dragons, were thankfully pretty darn sturdy. “Sounds like you’re being specifically targeted.”
A hired contractor trying to find the rubies. Damn, he should have considered that Sek and Mot would go that route. They’d proven in the past they were happy to pay for hired help to get the job done rather than risk their own hides.
But to be able to enter his dreams? How did he fight off a creature like that? “Shit, there goes the idea of me getting any sleep in the near future.”
“You can’t be serious? Everyone needs to sleep. You’ll be next to useless in another forty-eight hours.”
“I did break free of her hold. I suppose I can do it again.” Marcus rubbed his jaw absently, when was the last time he’d shaved?
“Yeah, about that.” Riya found it hard to meet his gaze. “I might have helped you along with the wake up process.”
Marcus pressed his jaw harder, feeling a faint bruise, recalling a crack, pain. “You hit me?”
Riya nodded. “You bet I did. As hard as I could. You were rolling around. Moaning. Thrashing. Yelling.”
“I suppose a thank you is in order.” He offered grudgingly.
“My pleasure.” Riya shot Marcus a grin, standing up. “Any time.”
“Now I know you’re feeling better, if you’re up to taking digs at me.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Marcus ran fingers through his short hair. “Hit the database, talk to Daniel. As our resident monster specialist he’ll probably have an idea of what kind of creature can enter other people’s dreams, and hopefully know a way to defeat them.”
“In the meantime if you do sleep, I suggest you have a spotter.”
Dark blue depths flared with heat. “You volunteering?”
Riya was suddenly very conscious that she was standing in Marcus’s bedroom, and his very large bed was only a few feet away. Stomach suddenly fluttering with excitement, her heart began to race. Snap out of it, remember, you are fighting Fate here. Not going to happen. Her and Marcus? Never. Ever. Nope. “I suggest you ask one of your fellow Warriors to step up and be your new bunk buddy, after all, with their strength they’ll be able to hit you extra hard and knock you out of dreamland with no trouble.” With that, Riya twirled and made a hasty exit.
Marcus’s gut clenched, hating the sight of Riya leaving. Damn, he’d been a little surly there… again. Riya had watched over him while he was concussed. Cut his hair. Made him lunch. The woman was a born nurturer. A mother. So not his type at all.
Except, then Riya had gone on to trick him, drug him and even haul his sorry ass to bed. So he could add stealthy, high handed, and determined to her list of attributes. And, Marcus reached up to rub his jaw, she also had a hell of a healthy right hook. So he added one more descriptive to the list… intriguing.
* * *
Riya rapped her knuckles on the door to the multi-media room.
“What?” Ah, the surly dulcet tones of her cousin could just be heard over the screams of someone dying horribly.
“It’s Riya. Let me in.”
There was a pointed twenty second delay before silence fell and the electronic lock clicked. Riya used her shoulder to push open the door. Blinking in the dim light, it took her eyes a moment to adjust. “Well, hello.” Riya dumped the garment bag she’d been carrying across an empty armchair, moving forward to plant a kiss on her cousin’s cheek. Wiping her mouth, Riya straightened and smiled. “You taste like cheese doodles.”
“Don’t tell Vaughn. He’ll cut off my supply and then he’ll have to die.”
“My lips are sealed.” Riya perched on the arm of the nearest chair. “Other than the smear of cheese on your cheek, you look good.”
Hadleigh rubbed absently at her cheek. “I look like a whale waiting for a bunch of do-gooders to come along and roll me back into the ocean.”
Riya fought the urge to roll her eyes. Hadleigh’s pregnancy bump was not all that large. Certainly it seemed petite when compared to their cousin Gaia’s mountainous belly. “How are you feeling?”
“The baby is fine.” Hadleigh huffed out sullenly.
“Not what I asked. How are you feeling?”
“Fat. Useless. Annoyed.”
“You add cranky, bitchy, petulant and sulky and we can re-invent the dwarves for the post-feminist age.”
“Not funny.” Hadleigh threw a cheese doodle at Riya’s head.
“Oh, and I think you forgot humourless.”
“What do I have to be happy about? Do you see me? It takes me five minutes just to get out of this chair. I can’t fight. I can’t even train. I’m so sick of being pregnant.” Hadleigh issued a low frustrated growl. “Enough about me. How did it go with the spoilt heiress, did you tame the diva beast?”
“That’s still an on-going thing. I’ll be hanging around for a while yet.”
“I bet the guys are worshipping at your feet in gratitude.”
Riya shifted slightly, suddenly uncomfortably warm as she pictured Marcus kneeling before her, expressing his gratitude… worshipping her. Stupid, fanciful imagination. “Some are more grateful than others.”
“If Drum is being too dark cloud ominous, just sick Nell on him.”
“Drum? No, he’s being a sweetheart.”
“Right, a sweetheart. Having eleven brothers has apparently screwed with your working definition of sweetness. So, who’s giving you grief?”
Damn Hadleigh, those Warrior instincts she had for trouble brewing were too finely honed.
“If you must know, Marcus has been a tad surly and resistant to my methods.”
“Marcus? What’s his problem?” Hadleigh couldn’t imagine Marcus looking up from his computer screen long enough to bother her cousin. Except to assess and catalogue her magic and analyse if he had an immediate use for it.
Riya did not want to talk about her recent run ins with Charming, and his lack of respect for her or her magic. Let alone the fact that she’d just spent an amazingly restful two-hour period napping in his arms not that long ago. Before she had to punch him awake, that was. All of which was kind of difficult to explain and not why she was here.
“Oh, I think the bill I gave him for the wardrobe I made for Dimity might have irritated his frugal soul slightly, nothing more.” Riya smiled, remembering the delightfully sour expression on Marcus’s face when he’d seen the amount. Definitely past time she changed the subject. “You know Vaughn would be here in a split second to help you out of that chair.”
“Vaughn. Vaughn.” Hadleigh hissed her meld mate’s name from between clenched teeth. “That man. I’m in here hiding out trying to save his life. But does he appreciate it? No, of course not. He keeps tapping at the door, leaving me healthy low-fat, low-salt, no sugar, tasteless trays of food. And texting me questions about my heart rate, and asking me when was the last time I pooped.”
Riya winced. “You can’t condemn him for caring about you.”
An arc of lightning flashed through the depths of Hadleigh’s clear grey eyes. “It’s too much. All he does is talk about the baby. Loud noises are bad for the baby. Long walks are good for the baby. How I should be listening to classical music all the time because it will make the baby happy.”
“I’ve heard that one too.” Riya volunteered.
“Do not be on his side.” Hadleigh levelled a killing glare in Riya’s direction.
Yikes. “I’m not, I’m on your side. I swear.”
“And if it’s not music, then we should be reading to the baby. Talking to the baby. I swear, he hasn’t made direct eye contact with me for the past two weeks. Every question is addressed to my navel. I… grrr…” Hadleigh held out a hand, a sharp deadly k-bar knife magically appearing and then disappearing just as quickly.
“He’s just concerned, that’s all.”
“Everyone keeps saying that, how concerned Vaughn is… but he’s smothering me. He’s acting…”
“Scared?” Riya offered.
Hadleigh’s eyes widened in surprise. “Vaughn, scared? I don’t think so.”
“Scared. Terrified. Take your pick. I’m guessing he’s feeling incredibly helpless when it comes to you having this baby. It’s a first. And he can’t do anything about the outcome but stand on the side lines and make sure you eat well, poop regularly and that the baby is content and happy.”
Hadleigh shook her head, tucking a dark red short curl behind one ear. “But it’s Vaughn.” A golden god of a man. With burnished gold eyes, and skin that shimmered with hints of the sun. Seven-foot-three-inches of chiselled muscle and sculpted lines.
“Who is totally, beyond in love with you and is completely terrified that something might go wrong. That’s why he’s hovering constantly. And probably treating you like fragile china.”
“Well, he has to stop. It’s pissing me off.” Hadleigh growled again.
“And how is you hiding away in here, shovelling cheese doodles into your mouth and playing video games all day going to get him to stop?”
“If I go out there he’ll just rub my belly, force a glass of milk on me and insist I take a nap. Do you know, I can’t even remember the last time he kissed me on the lips. Oh, sure, he’s happy to kiss, croon and sing to Lump, but he and I haven’t had an adult – non baby-centric – conversation in almost a month. How in the hell do I get Vaughn to chill and start treating me like his wife again and not some fragile baby incubator?”
Riya grinned. “I can’t believe you sometimes. You are so freaking dense.”
“Lovely, insult the heavily pregnant woman.”
“Oh, woe is me. So you haven’t beheaded anything in a few months and you’ve had to cut back on your training. You have a gorgeous, highly over-protective meld mate and a baby on the way. Suck it up and go out there and seduce your man.”
“Sex?” Hadleigh shook her head. “I wish. Vaughn won’t even let me take the stairs, let alone give me a tumble between the sheets. And who could blame him, have you seen the size of me?”
Riya suppressed a smile. For all her cousin’s prowess on the battlefield she still had self-esteem issues when it came to her looks. Clear grey eyes, a cascade of fire-lit dark red short curls, wide mouth and major curve appeal. Hadleigh was without doubt beautiful, unfortunately, she appeared to be the only one who didn’t know it.
“Okay, enough.” Riya hopped up and swept up the garment bag, undoing the zip she pulled out the dress she knew Fate had played a major role in creating. “I’m providing you with the ammunition. It’s up to you to go out there and get your man.”
Hadleigh stared at the dress. “But what if…”
“Nope.” Riya held her hand out, palm up. “I don’t want to hear it. Suck it up. Wear the dress. Don’t wear the dress. I’m leaving it up to you. I have enough Divas on my plate to manage at the moment.”
“I am not being a Diva.” Hadleigh muttered from between clenched teeth.
Riya started backing out of the room. “Hmm, on the scale of Diva to Warrior? Guess which direction you are currently tipping the scales in, Cheese-breath.”
“You…” Hadleigh’s eyes narrowed.
Riya turned and grabbed the door. “Oh, colour me scared. At least I know I have a five-minute head start. Good luck with getting out of that chair.”
Hadleigh gave up the struggle, collapsing back onto the cushions, staring at the closed door through which her cousin had just bolted. Vaughn, scared?
Could that really be what was behind all his over-solicitous hovering? And she was supposed to seduce her own husband to reassure him? Hadleigh’s gaze flicked to the dress that Riya had left behind. Dare she?
Sighing, Hadleigh placed a hand on her belly as Lump moved slightly, elbowing one of her major organs out the way to make more room. Hmmm, just because she was having a baby it didn’t have to define her. Just like she wasn’t purely a Warrior, but a wife, daughter, sister and friend.
Her gaze slid back to the dress. So really, the only question was, how did one go about seducing one’s own husband? Especially when she was lousy at girlie stuff. Beyond bad.
Hadleigh couldn’t simper to save her life. And her attempts at flirtation were beyond atrocious and bordering on being against the terms of the Geneva convention when it came to applications of torture.
Her come hither smile had been known to make lesser men turn pale and run away at depressingly fast speeds. Except… Vaughn never ran. He thought her come hither smile was sexy as hell. And that her sad little attempts at flirting with him were the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Glancing down, Hadleigh frowned at her protruding belly, well, Vaughn had thought those things… before Lump turned her middle section into a Hobbit home.
Releasing another frustrated sigh, Hadleigh picked up the controller and hit the play button, swinging her sword upwards and gutting her virtual enemy effortlessly. Damn, why couldn’t male - female interactions be that easy. Her gaze flicked to the dress once more. How would she approach this if it was a battle? Tactics. Well, at least she had the ammunition. The dress really was stunning.
Now all she needed to do was come up with a plan to seduce her man. Grrr, she watched as her avatar sunk to the snow, bleeding and dying. That’s what she got for getting distracted. Hitting the re-start button Hadleigh’s mind began churning. She needed a plan. A plan to seduce Vaughn.
Damn, he was the one good at seduction. Hmmm… maybe what she needed to do was put herself in his shoes. Hadleigh recalled their early interactions, and the dating rules Vaughn had made up. Okay, why re-invent the wheel?
All it would take is a little planning. A little subterfuge. A lot of luck. And if things grew very dire, if she failed miserably, she’d put her husband in a headlock and beat the caring out of him.
Okay, that didn’t sound quite right. But Hadleigh was determined, if nothing else, the two of them would talk this out.
If Vaughn had fears, she wanted to hear them. Share them. That’s what meld couples were supposed to do. Sweet Lady, somewhere in all this pregnancy hoopla they had forgotten to communicate. Hiding their fears and insecurities from one another. In a bid to protect each other they’d only succeeded driving a wedge in, pushing them further apart.
It had to be the Warrior training. Sure, you could vent your emotions on the battlefield easily enough. Decapitate. Gut. Destroy. Annihilate. But Hadleigh had never been taught how to express when she was afraid. Glaring at her belly, Hadleigh pondered the very real possibility that this might be potentially the biggest mistake ever. Her, a mother? It was bound to go wrong in so many ways.
Though it went without saying that Vaughn was going to be an amazing dad.
Hadleigh released another deep sigh, Vaughn, she missed him. Missed talking to him. Laughing. Holding his hand. Looking into his eyes and seeing banked heat and desire. So what did she value more, wallowing in her own misery and dread, or Vaughn?
And the answer was incredibly simple, Vaughn. Okay, so the plan was set. She would step outside her comfort zone and seduce her man. She could do this… she would do this. There was no other option. Yes, it was time to woo a Warrior.