“No. I am going to turn on the television and see if I can find a sporting match to watch.”
It’s almost like he knows.
He couldn’t possibly. He’s just being kind.
She wanted to ask a hundred questions, but there wasn’t even one of them that wouldn’t totally blow her secret side. Tamara walked across the room, her back very straight. She went into the bedroom and shut the door, taking care to engage the lock.
•●•
Lars wanted to whoop and dance around the room, but he forced himself to turn on the television and flip through channels. Garen’s intel had been right on. Tamara must be a shifter. If she summoned her animal form, she’d heal quickly. He pumped his fist in the air, and then jammed it over his mouth to stifle a triumphant laugh. Her hearing would be acute in her animal form; he turned up the television’s volume.
This development would make the shifter conversation much easier, but there was no reason to have it just yet. Tamara must be on sensory overload after everything she’d been through in just a few short hours. No point in making things any worse, or more difficult, for her. He wondered what she was. Wolves, bears, and mountain cats were most common, but he’d known coyote, bird, and even deer and elk shifters.
Deep in his computer bag, his cell phone jangled. Lars dove for it, but by the time he located it, it had quit ringing. He brought up his call log, but it simply said private, just like the last call to his phone. He punched one of the speed dial numbers, the one that would connect him to Garen.
“I just tried to reach you,” Garen said.
“What? No hello, how are you, old friend?”
Garen snorted laughter. “My, you’re sounding chipper, particularly since I just heard there was an attempt on your life, or the girl’s anyway. It came in on my satellite feed.”
“Our uninvited visitor, a woman by the way, was an amateur. The problem went away.”
“A woman, eh?” Garen sounded interested.
“Ja. A Russian national from what I could tell, but her English was excellent.”
“Hmph. How’s everything else?”
“Better than good, my friend. Tamara was shot, but she is closeted in the bedroom healing herself.”
“Aha! Not that we have a corner on the magic market, but I was probably right about her being one of us. It makes things much easier. Did you talk with her about working for The Company?”
Lars blew out a breath. “I broached the topic, but she has lived through a great deal in a short time. Things like this, well, they—”
“I’ll have Miranda work on her when the two of you get here. It isn’t as if we’d be sending her out on the front lines anytime soon.”
An almost savage protectiveness surged, surprising Lars with its ferocity. “She has worked as a journalist. Surely we could use a decent PR person.”
Garen laughed so hard, Lars held the phone away from his ear. Irritation tensed his jaw. A straight-shooter, Garen could be incredibly insensitive. When he could talk again, Garen said, “What we do doesn’t generally require public relations. Aren’t we usually flying beneath the radar?”
Lars chuckled, and his annoyance crumbled like over-baked bread. “It is only that I wish her to feel comfortable, safe.”
“This is sounding serious, old friend. Is she that good in the sack?”
“I have not yet found out, but I am working on it.”
“Maybe I should hang up. You can mosey on in there, shift, make a grab for her hot animal form—”
“No. Once we have coupled in both forms, we will be linked forever. You made that mistake with Miranda—before you discussed the ramifications. I wish to be more aboveboard.”
“Aw, come on. I was more sloppy than shady.”
“Whatever. I am fond of the fair fraulein. If we do make love, it will first be in our human forms. She does not know what I am, and I did not question her when she went into the bedroom alone.”
“Playing it close to the cuff, eh?”
“Christ, Garen! In less than twenty-four hours, she has killed for the first time, been shot at, taken a bullet through her shoulder, and understands she is running for her life.”
“You’re probably right to ease into things.” The teasing tone had left Garen’s voice. “You always did have excellent instincts. See you soon.”
“Ja. Looking forward to it.” Lars disconnected. Though his gaze settled on two nameless teams bouncing a basketball around a court, his mind was elsewhere. All he could see was Tamara, with her sea-blue eyes, shiny black hair, and pert smile. His cock jumped to attention. Lars rearranged himself and let his fingers linger over his engorged shaft. He was imagining how her breasts would feel in his hands when the door to the bedroom creaked open. Lars grabbed an occasional pillow and dragged it into his lap to cover his obvious erection. Embarrassment swamped him, but he tried for a nonchalant expression as Tamara, radiant and breath-stealing, stepped out of the bedroom.
Chapter Seven
Senses still heightened from spending time in her cat form, Tamara scented Lars’ arousal as soon as she cracked the bedroom door. It arrowed right into her crotch, which flooded with desire. Her face heated and she knew she was blushing furiously. He gazed at her, gray eyes smoky with something she didn’t have a name for, looking like a human version of a big cat on the prowl.
“I heard the phone.” Tamara ignored her suddenly heavy, aching breasts and the second heart beating between her legs.
“It was nothing.” He shifted position on the sofa and she noticed the pillow dead center in his lap. Had she interrupted him masturbating?
Her face got even hotter at the thought of his well-formed fingers stroking his shaft. Somehow she just knew his cock would be as amazing as the rest of him. She wanted to walk to the sofa, wrap her arms around him, and taste his lips again, but he wasn’t exactly asking her to join him.
“Are you well, fraulein? Do you need me to find a physician after all?”
“Sure and I am mostly better. I worried the phone call might mean we had to leave, so I hurried things up a bit.” She pressed her thighs together, not remembering if she’d ever been anywhere near this hot before.
“It was just Garen. His intel connections are excellent. He knew about the woman who tried to kill you and wished to assure himself we were all right.”
“If that was all… I-I’ll be bathing.” She tried to take a deep breath; it wasn’t easy. At least in the bathroom, she’d escape the embarrassment of having walked in on him—and she could take care of her own needs. All she could think about was fucking Lars, feeling his hands moving over her body and his cock buried inside her. Before she tossed caution to the winds and threw her overheated body into his arms, she hustled into the bathroom. The second she shut the door, she crammed a hand between her legs and pushed her swollen labia against her fingers. Her other hand settled on a pebbled nipple. A muted yelp escaped and she bit her lower lip to stifle further sounds.
A tap vibrated against the bathroom door. She froze. Had she flipped the lock? Tamara straightened. Another tap. “Yes?” Her voice rang hollowly. She dragged her hands away from her breast and pussy and stood straight.
“Open the door.” Lars’ voice was harsh, raspy with the same need raging in her nether regions.
Tamara snaked a hand out and turned the knob. He surged into the small space, crushed her against him, and slashed his mouth down on hers. She opened herself to him, desperate for the feel of him, the taste of him. His scent eddied about them; she inhaled hungrily, and the musk of his heat stoked her own inner fire. He sank his tongue inside her mouth. She sparred with it, nibbling, licking, sucking, biting. He ran his hands down her back and cupped the curves of her ass, drawing her against him. His cock pressed against her belly; he groaned and thrust against her.