Midnight Touch Read online

Page 2


  “I … yes, thank you,” she replied.

  He unfolded his arms and waved a hand toward the door. “After you.”

  Cassie peeled herself away from the wall, took a step forward and then stopped.

  “Could you … I mean … if you wouldn’t mind, that is, would you put a t-shirt on?”

  Shaun studied the woman perched on the stool beside the breakfast bar from where he leaned against the refrigerator. He could still smell the scent of her in his nostrils, feel her curves, all soft lushness where he was hard muscle, from when he’d trapped her against the wall in his bedroom. He ran his tongue across his teeth and wondered whether she would taste as good as she smelled.

  She looked how he imagined a librarian would dress. Blouse buttoned to her throat, beige pants, and flat no-nonsense pumps. All she needed was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses propped on the end of her nose – cute, turned-up at the tip – and a stern expression and his school-days librarian fantasy would be complete … well, it would if she sank to her knees, anyway. He felt himself growing hard at the thought, stopped the smile threatening to spread across his face, and forced himself not to react.

  What he didn’t see when he looked at her? A Hunter or another Shifter.

  He thought back over what she had said up in his bedroom. Her claim that her parents used to own The Lodge was plausible – and wasn’t that a stupid name for the house, anyway? He hadn’t handled the sale personally. His pack and his Alpha had people to do things like that for them. But that still didn’t mean she hadn’t purposely been sent to find him. Especially if her parents had a history with Shifters or Hunters and had discovered who had bought the house from them. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d come out of the shower and found a woman in his room, or even his bed, in a bid to distract him from a Hunter’s true intentions.

  Yeah, let’s not think about that, Shaun, he told himself.

  He forced his attention back to the present, to the woman sitting in his kitchen, and the scent of her invading his senses. He couldn’t sense any hint of lies or deceit. And the way she was dressed? That whole librarian vibe she was rocking. That made Shaun think her story held far more truth to it than lie.

  “Why were you running through my forest?” He broke the silence and watched as her eyes jerked up to meet his. Shaun directed his attention toward her feet, and her eyes followed his down. “I’m gonna guess it wasn’t a pre-planned hike.”

  She shook her head but didn’t answer his question. Instead, she twisted the lid from the bottle of water he’d given her and took a sip. Shaun pushed himself away from the refrigerator and crossed the room. Her eyes were glued to him as he prowled closer. When he reached her, he pulled out another stool and sat down beside her. She remained silent.

  Shaun stretched an arm out along the breakfast bar, and her gaze immediately dropped to look at the patterns snaking around his forearm. She had done the same thing upstairs, he noted to himself. Was she trying to read his pack markings, find out which one he was born to? He could track down to the second when she’d stopping looking at his markings and started noticing he was naked. A grin threatened to spill over at the thought and he stifled it ruthlessly. His fingers beat a steady rhythm against the counter-top.

  “I locked the door before I took a shower. How did you get in? Our lawyer requested all the keys.”

  “My dad kept a key hidden under a false stone on the rockery outside.” There was a distracted note to her voice, and Shaun was sure she was focused on his arm.

  “You like my mar- tattoos?” Yeah, that’s right, Shaun. Call them markings – that’d be a bright move!

  A blush spread across her cheeks and he inhaled silently, examining her scent. She was embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologised immediately.

  She had apologised upstairs as well, he thought. He was used to lower-ranking wolves using apologies to appease a higher-ranking pack member. He wondered if she realised she was subconsciously submitting to his more dominant rank. It was a reaction that intrigued him. Most humans were unaware of the balance of power unless there were signs of obvious aggression. The subtleties of hierarchy were mostly lost on them. And yet her downward gaze, body slightly turned away, and the hand hugging her own stomach spoke of an instinctive reaction to his rank.

  Interesting.

  “I’ve never seen anything like them before,” she was saying. “The design is beautiful, and so unique.”

  She didn’t know the half of it.

  He looked down at his arm. A year ago, they had been from elbow to shoulder. After his breakdown, he’d added tattoos, masking his pack markings, making them more difficult to recognise. And now the pattern started just below his knuckles and weaved all around his arm, covered his shoulder and travelled down over the right side of his chest and back. They looked like they had no particular pattern but seemed designed in such a way to keep the eye moving, following the ebb and flow of the design. Something he’d done purposely, to distract attention from the true markings hidden within the design. Markings which were unique to each pack and pack member – not that he could tell her that. He flipped his arm over so she could see it covered all the skin and saw the fingers of her hand twitch.

  Does she want to touch me? He wondered.

  He cocked his head and studied her. He didn’t sense any kind of desire or seduction coming from her, but there was a definite hint of fascination. Her attention appeared to be completely welded to his arm. Either the girl had a tattoo fetish or … or what? Shaun couldn’t think of anything else it could be.

  “Are they the same on both arms?” she asked, and her curiosity drove her to twist around and face him, so she could look at where his other arm rested against his thigh.

  He obliged her interest and lifted his arm. “Not exactly. Same principle, though.”

  As conversations go, he thought, this one is ranking up there as one of the strangest. And he’d had some odd ones in his time.

  She reached out a finger and traced it across the pattern on his forearm. Shaun hissed, an unexpected spark of electricity shooting up his arm. She pulled her hand away sharply.

  “I’m … sorry, that was rude of me.”

  And there was that apology again, he thought. The scent of her embarrassment swirled stronger and he forced himself to smile, while his wolf growled inside his head, curious about the female in front of him.

  “It’s okay. Static shock,” he shrugged. “Are you ready to go back to town?”

  If he hadn’t been watching for her reaction, he would have missed her flinch at his question. But even had he missed that, there was no way he could miss the way her scent turned anxious.

  That’s a no.

  Shaun dropped his hand back into his lap and raised his eyes to meet hers. “Come on, Goldilocks, spill. Why are you out wandering in my forest?”

  He saw her lips move slightly at his reference to the fairy tale and she tipped her head back to look him full in the face. The wolf inside his head growled louder – demanding submission. Ignoring it, he focused on her eyes – they were blue, he noted, like the cornflowers he’d spotted at the back of the property, where the lawn met the forest’s edge.

  “I can walk back,” she told him, ignoring both his questions.

  Shaun frowned. “Yeah, not okay with that. I’ve got enough shit to be doing without risking a murder charge when they find your body in the morning.” He rose to his feet as he spoke. “Let’s go. I have to grab some supplies, anyway. I’ll drop you off on my way.”

  His car, a Grand Cherokee, was parked at the far side of The Lodge, out of view from the front of the property, and it looked like it had received a paint job from the same place as Cassie’s reluctant host. Instead of a single plain colour, it sported similar patterns and colours to the ones covering his arms – making it stand out. Bold, brash, and every bit as eye-catching as the man who owned it.

  He stopped by the passenger door and pulled it open, then
stepped back and waited for Cassie to climb in.

  “There’s really no need.” She tried once more to convince him to let her walk back to town.

  “Don’t bother,” he grinned, slammed the door on her protests and strode to the driver’s side. “Why don’t you want to go back?” he asked as he settled into his seat and fired the engine. “You might as well tell me. I’ll find out eventually, anyway.”

  “Who’s going to tell you?” Cassie couldn’t help but snap. “You’re a stranger here.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her tone and smirked. “Yeah, but it’s a small town, and everyone knows they’re the worst for spreading gossip.” The cocky grin fell away as he concentrated on turning the huge SUV around. “It’s always better if the rumours people hear are the ones you can control,” he added, absently.

  Cassie thought she detected an odd note to his voice, almost like he was speaking from experience and, for a second, she was tempted to ask him. Manners drilled into her from a young age kicked in, however, before she spoke, and the moment passed. He didn’t speak either, and they spent the next few minutes in silence as he manoeuvred the beast of a car down the narrow wanna-be road.

  A movement caught Cassie’s attention and her gaze dropped to where his hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping to a tune only he could hear, and she felt her lips curl up into a smile. She remembered how her father used to do something similar when a song was stuck in his head.

  “What song is it?”

  “Huh?” His eyes cut to hers briefly, before returning to the road.

  “What song has your fingers dancing?”

  His brows pulled together into a confused frown, and he glanced down, then grinned. “Ahhh right. You wouldn’t know it.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “Because I’m a small-town girl?”

  “No, because you’re …” His eyes crinkled at the corners, sparkling with laughter as he raised a hand from the steering wheel to wave it vaguely in her direction. “Well, you look like a librarian, Goldilocks.”

  “And librarians don’t like music? Is that what you’re implying?” she questioned.

  Shaun barked a laugh. “No, sweetheart, but librarians probably listen to Mozart, Beethoven, and shit like that.”

  “Wow! You’re stereotyping.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You so are! Also, I’m not a librarian.”

  “No, you’re a home intruder.” He smirked at her. “You probably listen to mood music.”

  “Mood music? I don’t even know what that is!” she laughed.

  “You know … the music you put on to get you in the mood for whatever nefarious plan you’re thinking about.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face.

  “I haven’t made any plans, nefarious or otherwise,” Cassie replied.

  “Ah-hah!” He waggled a finger at her. “So you admit it! You do listen to mood music.”

  “No!”

  “No?” He threw her a thoughtful glance. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who screams after boy bands?” He pressed the palm of his hand against his chest. “I don’t think my heart could take that kind of blow.”

  Cassie laughed again, feeling her mood lighten with his teasing.

  “You got it!” she declared.

  “You also dance around the kitchen, don’t you?” he accused. “Pretending the broom is a microphone.”

  “You betcha!” She lifted her head and belted out the chorus from one of the current pop songs, purposely hitting the wrong notes.

  He didn’t even try to hide his wince. “I should have gone with my gut and called the police,” he muttered.

  “For what?”

  “Crimes against music.”

  Cassie sang louder, then spluttered into laughter when he physically cringed away at a screeched high note. She could see him watching her out of the corner of his eye, which made her giggle harder, the song forgotten. When her giggles finally subsided, he spoke again.

  “The song is called My Drug of Choice.”

  Cassie considered the title, trying to place it within her memory, but couldn’t … and she knew he knew it.

  “Well?” he challenged.

  “Sure! It’s by that band … you know …” she bluffed.

  He snorted. “You have no idea.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  His lips twitched. “I kinda do.” He flicked the turn signal and Cassie realised they were within the town limits. “Where do you want dropping?”

  “I’ll get out wherever you park. I can walk from there.” The tension had returned to her voice.

  Shaun nodded, and silence returned to the car. He drove down Main Street and, a short time later, pulled up outside the only grocery store in town.

  As bad luck would have it, Sam was coming out of the bank opposite as the car rolled to a stop. Cassie groaned, and her companion’s eyes flicked from her to Sam and back again.

  “He the guy who sent you running to my house?” He picked up on the situation immediately, and Cassie knew it wasn’t even worth trying to make up a lie.

  “Yeah,” she replied softly. “He’s my ex as of,” she looked at the clock on the dashboard, “four hours ago.”

  “What did he do?”

  “My roommate.” The words burned like acid as they fell from her mouth.

  “You catch him?” He didn’t miss a beat, and Cassie nodded.

  “I walked in on them earlier today. I finished work earlier than usual and was supposed to meet him for dinner. I went home to shower and change. They were at it on the kitchen table when I walked through the door.”

  Shaun turned his head to watch Sam cross the road. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Cassie shrugged, struggling to keep her voice from wobbling, and turned her face away so he didn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.

  “I don’t know. I just had to get away, so I ran to The Lodge. I didn’t even think about the fact my mom had sold it.”

  Shaun unclipped his belt and twisted in his seat to face her. “Well, Goldilocks, you have two choices. You either let him get away with it, or you burn the fucker to the ground.”

  “You don’t think it’s my roommate’s fault … or mine?” Even as the words left her lips, Cassie realised a part of her wondered if something she had done had driven Sam to turn to someone other than her.

  Shaun shook his head. “What did he do? Slip and land with his dick buried inside her? It takes two to screw up, sweetheart. If she came on to him and he didn’t want her, you wouldn’t have found him balls-deep, would you?”

  Cassie felt her cheeks burn at his crudeness. “Maybe it was something I did … or didn’t do.”

  He didn’t reply straight away, and she glanced over at him to find him staring at her with narrowed eyes. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” he questioned.

  “I … maybe?”

  “Well, that tells me everything I need to know about him.” His tone made it clear that wasn’t a good thing. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  His question made Cassie pause as she reached for her own seatbelt. “What do you mean?”

  “Like I said earlier, you want to be in control of any rumours being whispered about you. Do you want him to have control of it or you?”

  “Sam comes from an influential family,” she whispered. “People will believe whatever they say.”

  “Change the script.”

  Cassie stared at him. “It’s not that simple.”

  “The most important things rarely are.”

  “I don’t know how,” she whispered.

  Shaun didn’t respond immediately. He could have given her a hundred ways to change how her story played out, but he knew at least fifty of them would be illegal, and forty-nine would probably result in her hitting him. Instead he smiled and turned to watch Sam cross the street and head toward the car. He figured they had less than two minutes before the other man
reached them.

  “Break it down one step at a time,” he suggested, finally. “Are you going to stay at your own place with your cheating roommate, or do you have somewhere else to go?”

  “I can stay at my sister’s,” Cassie replied. She was also watching Sam’s rapid approach. “I need to go up to my apartment and pack some clothes first, though.”

  “How far from here do you live?”

  “It’s right there.” She pointed to a row of windows above the grocery store. “I live above the shop.”

  Shaun nodded as he mentally considered different options. His instinct, born out of pack structure and how he was raised, was to protect anyone weaker than him – and, without putting too fine a point on it, all humans – male and female – were weaker. The fact that she amused him and reacted to his wolf’s dominance in a way that interested him may have also had something to do with his decision when he spoke.

  “I’ll come up with you while you pack and take you to your sister’s.” He allowed a small amount of wolf dominance into his voice to ensure her agreement. “What do you want to do about him?” He nodded toward Sam, who had almost reached the rear of the car.

  “I’m going to ignore him.”

  The determination in her voice made Shaun chuckle as he opened the door and hopped out. In a few quick strides, he reappeared beside the passenger door, and had it open before she finished untangling herself from her own belt. Without a word, he reached across and pushed the button to unclip it, and then held out his hand, offering to help her out. She looked at him, a clear question in her eyes, and he smiled.

  “It’s all about changing the narrative, remember?”

  Her look changed to match the earlier determination in her voice, and she grasped his hand and exited the car.

  “Cassie!” Sam called from behind them, and Shaun masked a triumphant smile.

  He knew her name now.

  Cassie ignored Sam and continued on a steady path toward the door just to the left of the grocery store’s entrance. Shaun positioned himself between Cassie and Sam, angling his stance so that when she paused to unlock the door, Sam couldn’t reach her. They slipped inside, and Shaun kicked the door shut behind him.