Carnal Secrets (7 page)

“Of course it doesn’t. As long as it’s only headaches we’re talking about. If the memory lapses, muscle tremors, or periods of mental disorientation come back, you can’t ignore it.”

“I won’t.” But he refused to let fear keep him away from Shaya ever again. So unless the other symptoms returned, he wouldn’t allow himself to even speculate if the headaches were anything to be worried about. Unlocking the door to his motor home, Nick said, “I need painkillers and sleep.
You
need to go home. Once again, I’m firing you.”

Derren gave him a curt nod. “If that’s what you want.”

What Nick wanted was Shaya. But he fully understood that the process of winning her trust would be gradual. She was upset, confused, and angry—and justifiably so. He knew he was going to need to be patient, understanding, and sensitive. Patient he could do—he was more patient than most. Understanding and sensitive…He wasn’t much good at that stuff, never had been, so this would be new territory.

He’d have to resist kissing her again. He wouldn’t stop touching her altogether—he needed her comfortable with and used to his touch. But if he laid another heavy kiss on her, she might think he was trying to use their attraction against her to persuade her. Being that they were mates and the urges were so strong, it probably wouldn’t be hard to seduce her. But he didn’t want that to be why she came to him. He wanted it to be about more than the physical side of things. Unfortunately, resisting her was going to be hard as all shit since he was literally hardwired—body, mind, heart, and soul—to want her.

Groveling wouldn’t do him any good—not that he knew how to grovel anyway—because the last thing Shaya would ever be attracted to or respect was someone worthy of pity. His and his wolf’s pride would balk at it anyway. There was apologizing, and there was acting like a desperate, creepy asshole. He’d done the whole apologizing thing, and now he needed to show her that it hadn’t been an empty apology.

To achieve that, what he needed right now was a solid plan of action. Nick had always been good with plans. He’d have to insert himself in her life, show her he was there to stay. Words would never be enough, particularly since she didn’t trust him. He would need to be persistent, but not push her, not seem as though he was putting pressure on her as that would only worsen the situation.

God, he was going to have to do the gift thing too, wasn’t he? He was bad at that. He knew that Shaya wouldn’t want clichés. No, she was the type to appreciate personal gestures. But what were personal gestures? Shit, this was going to be hard as hell. Nick didn’t
do
romance, never had.

Another thing he would be sure not to do was expect anything in return. He would take things at her pace…but he wouldn’t let her make him give up. He couldn’t. He truly hadn’t known it was possible for him to feel pain on this scale, hadn’t realized it was possible to feel so torn up inside. He’d known different types of pain in his life, but none of it equaled this—not what had happened to make his wolf surface, not what had happened that got him sent to juvie, and not even finding out that his cognitive functions were degenerating. None of it equaled the pain of being without his mate. He knew without a doubt that nothing could.

She was going to be late for work again. Groan. On the upside, it was the earliest that she’d ever been late. In pretty much a daze after a crappy night’s sleep, Shaya left the house and began walking briskly down her driveway. And came to an abrupt halt at the sight of something parked at the end of it. It looked like a humungous bus. Coming close, she tried to peer through the blackened windows, but they were too high up.

Seeing movement in her peripheral vision, she swerved to see a Mercedes convertible pulling up behind the bus. Then the bane of her existence was waltzing toward her, carrying Starbucks takeout. Again he looked dangerous and indomitable. Again he emanated an unflappable confidence. Again he had her traitorous body heating and tingling, readying itself for him—so not good.

Why couldn’t he look like Sloth from
The Goonies
or something? She scowled. “You’re still here?” At his presence and scent, her wolf stirred and stretched out inside her, her dark mood lifting.

Nick arched a brow at her tone. “Good morning to you too, baby. And yes, my head healed nicely, thanks.” His wolf liked her sassiness, was even amused by it—and it took a hell of a lot to amuse his wolf. “Coffee?”

She barely refrained from shivering at the sound of that masterful voice that she was sure had been designed to taunt, intimidate, and arouse. Determined to ignore the effect he had on her, Shaya moved her attention to the cup he was holding out to her and wondered if he’d known she was a sucker for Starbucks coffee. “What flavor is it?”

“Caramel macchiato, of course.”

Yep, he’d known. And he thought buying her a cup of coffee would help even things out?
Pfft.
Still, it would be a shame to let the coffee go to waste. It would certainly be unreasonable to refuse to drink it based on the buyer. So she snatched it.

“You’re welcome.”

Feeling something lick her free hand, she jolted. Glancing down, she found a panting, playful-looking, tail-wagging Labrador. She’d been so transfixed by Nick that she hadn’t even sensed the dog…a dog that was now being happily stroked by Nick. She shot him a questioning look.

“Shaya, this is Bruce. Bruce, Shaya.”

“Bruce? He’s yours?”

He scratched the dog between his ears. “He was
supposed
to be my brother’s dog, but for some odd reason, he’s always followed me around. I’m better with animals than I am with people.” And he preferred animals to people, actually.

Frowning, she watched as Bruce scratched at the door of the large bus. Taking out a set of keys from his pocket, Nick unlocked it and the dog trotted inside.

“He’s a lazy shit. Likes to lie in front of the TV all day.”

“Wait, this bus is yours?”

“It’s a Winnebago,” he corrected, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. He wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but Shaya’s skin called to him. Seemingly of its own accord, his gaze flicked to her sensual lips. God, what a mouth. He wanted to taste it again. Thoroughly and commandingly. Then he would bite that bottom lip, mark it.

“A Winne-what?”

“A Winnebago.”

“Like the one in
Meet the Fockers
? Hang on, how can you drive this
and
the Mercedes?”

“It has a garage for the car. Whenever I want to stop off somewhere for a while, I park the motor home and then use my car to get around. Want a ride to work?”

Every hormone she had yelled, “Yes!” Lord, he was so gorgeous and masculine and alluring she could cry. But she couldn’t allow that to shake her resolve. “What I
want
is for you to leave. I made that pretty clear last night.”

“Did you really think I would?”

“No. I wouldn’t dare expect you to take my feelings into account.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re playing this little game.”

He pinned her gaze with his. “This isn’t a game to me, Shay. You said that you don’t trust me not to leave you again. As much as I hate that, I can understand. So it strikes me that I need to make sure you know I’m serious. I need to prove to you that I’m not leaving you. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

The words were so final, left no room for negotiation. Although she’d half expected him to pester her for a little while since dominant males didn’t drop matters easily, she hadn’t expected him to be so committed. Her wolf, who was becoming a real pain in the ass, liked that he had come to her and had every intention of claiming her. As such, she wasn’t particularly happy with Shaya for resisting him. Yeah, well, Shaya wasn’t particularly happy with Nick. “I don’t want you here.”

“A part of you does, Shay.” He’d sensed it, and he was so damn grateful for it. “It might be small, but it’s there. Beneath all your anger, there’s still a desire to make this work.”

He was right, the asshole. If he was just any guy, she might have been easily able to forget about him—after all, there were plenty more out there. But she only had one mate, and this was him; a part of her wanted him near and wanted to believe him. But hell would freeze over before she admitted it. “I have to get to work.” Before he could again offer to take her, she raised a hand. “I like to walk.”

“Suit yourself. Although I should point out that it looks like it’s going to start raining any second now.” He leaned back against the motor home and took a long sip of his coffee, ignoring the tap-tap-tapping of her foot.

When he made no move to drive off in his Winne-whatever-it-was-called, she counted to ten in her head, praying for patience. “Well…are you going to move this…thing?”

“Nope.”

Patience all gone. “Nick, seriously, you need to—”

“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t hurry.”

She glanced at her watch and cursed. “This and
you
had better be gone by the time I get home.” Nick simply shot her a lopsided smile. The guy was a menace. How the hell did you get through to someone who had selective hearing? No, actually, it wasn’t selective hearing. He heard and understood every single word; he just didn’t give a crap.

Sharply she turned and began striding down the street. No more than a minute later, the rain started. Great. The sound of an engine made her turn her head. Nick had parked his Mercedes at the side of the road with the convertible top now up and was opening the passenger door in invitation. She wrestled with herself for all of five seconds before jogging over to the car and jumping inside. “Letting you give me a ride to work doesn’t mean anything.”

Nick gave her a reassuring “of course not” look, but inside he was smiling. He wasn’t dumb enough to let it surface—he knew he was on shaky ground.

When he started the engine, she turned to him. “The salon where I work is—”

“It’s okay, I know where it is,” he told her as he began driving. His wolf let loose a growl of satisfaction—he liked having her in his space, liked having her scent surrounding him.

“How?”

“You’re my mate. I’m naturally going to want to know everything about you.” He shrugged; it was simple. “That includes your address, where you work, and your cell number—just thought you should know so you won’t be surprised if a text message from me arrives.”

She gaped, both offended and shocked. “You can’t just pry into people’s lives like that and find out all their personal details. And
how
did you find them out anyway?”

He shrugged again. “I have contacts in the right places.”

“So, what, you’re a stalker now?”

“I prefer the term ‘intense investigator.’” Before she could give him any more grief, he gestured to the vehicle. “Like it?”

“It’s all right, I guess.”

His mouth curved at the sound of her reluctant appreciation. “I’m more into all-terrain vehicles, but I couldn’t have fit one in the motor home.”

She frowned. “Then why not just use an SUV or something instead of that big hulking thing?”

“Because an SUV wouldn’t have been much good as somewhere to live over the past six months.”

“You’ve been living in the Winne-thing?” she asked, shocked. He nodded. “So when you said you’d spent six months looking for me, you meant it literally?”

He gave her an odd look. “Of course I meant it.” Realization quickly dawned on him. “You thought I meant I’d had other people tracking you for me.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “You’re an Alpha; you have shit to do.”

“Not anymore, remember. I gave it up the day I found out you’d left. I’ve been searching for you ever since.” Casting a glance at her, he saw her skeptical look. “You don’t believe I gave up the position?”

“I believe you’ll go back.” She wasn’t sure about the rest, but she was pretty certain about that. “Living without your pack and your land is hard.”

“Living without you is harder.”

Instead of sounding soppy or pathetic, it had instead come out sounding cutely possessive and protective.

“Besides, if you want the truth, I don’t much like company.”

That had her double-blinking in surprise. “You don’t like company?” she echoed disbelievingly. “You’re a shifter.”

“People annoy me. I like being alone.” Yeah, he knew that was odd for a shifter—they craved contact and thrived on it. But he’d never felt the same satisfaction from social contact that the rest of his kind did. Then, after spending five years of his life in juvie where there were no such things as space, privacy, or quiet, he’d eventually come to crave those things as opposed to social contact. And he wasn’t good at bonding anyway.

Shaya was about to question how the hell someone who liked solitude could have acted as an Alpha when she caught sight of something in the side mirror. “Is that Derren in the SUV behind us?”

Nick sighed tiredly. “Yes.” He’d noticed his “bodyguard” minutes earlier.

Turning in her seat, she regarded him through accusatory eyes. “Aha. You said you’d left the pack.”

“I have.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t still have a bodyguard,” she pointed out impatiently. “Which means you’ve only been telling me all this to fool me into mating with you.”

“Sorry, Nancy Drew, but you’re wrong on that one. I’ve been trying to get rid of Derren for years.”

“Why would he stick around to protect you if you’re not Alpha?”

“It was never anything to do with me being Alpha. It’s a personal thing.”

“Really?” she drawled, skeptical. “And what is this personal thing?”

He’d rather not say, would rather not tell her about that period of his life in case it scared her off. “You know, you didn’t answer me last night when I asked you if there was a guy in your life.”

Thrown off-balance by the complete change of subject, she was silent for a moment. Instead of answering, she hit his question with one of her own. “Is there a female in your life?”

Nick would have insisted on hearing her answer first, but it killed him to see the distrust in her eyes. “There hasn’t been anyone since I first saw you.”