Cole’s Redemption (22 page)

Damien’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

“You should be.” Harsh, but true.

“I did what I thought best at the time. I can see now that I should’ve handled things
differently.”

“It’s done now. I didn’t ask you here to make you grovel to Dad or me.”

“Why
did
you invite us?” Tag asked, studying Zan with open dislike.

“Healing.” She took a deep breath. “I want us all to be a family.”

“That’s going to depend on Nick,” her uncle said.

“I’m so glad I get a say in things.”

Selene’s heart stuttered. She turned to see her father standing just behind her and
Zan, his body tense and still. Eyes shuttered. He watched Damien like the lethal predator
he was, ready to spring at the slightest provocation. Stepping from Zan’s protective
presence, she went to Nick and drew him forward.

“I invited them here because there are things that need saying between you two. You
need closure, and unless I’m way off base, you need your brother.”

Smoldering anger crept into his face as he glared at Damien. “I needed my brother
twenty years ago, when I was grieving for the mate I lost. I needed him when my heart
was broken, and he turned his back on me.”

Damien took a step closer. “I’m standing right here, Nick. I only did what I thought—”

Not waiting to hear another word, Nick closed the remaining distance and delivered
a powerful punch to Damien’s jaw that sent the other man reeling backward to land
on his ass on the asphalt.

“Fuck what you thought!” Nick roared, every muscle in his neck standing out as he
loomed over his brother. “Fuck your uptight rules and the clan! Fuck you for kicking
me when I was down.
Fuck you!
”

Oh, God! She hadn’t even realized she was moving to get between them until she felt
her mate’s arms around her, holding her back.

“Let them sort this out,” her mate whispered in her ear. “It’ll be all right.”

“Nick—” Damien began.

“I made a mistake and I
paid
for it.” His voice cracked, filled with anguish. “But you had to punish me more.
Did it occur to you to reach out to me and Selene, to help us get past our grief as
a
family
, to be there for us? Instead, you took my baby! You took her from me and I had nothing
left. Nothing.”

That last word was spoken as a hoarse whisper, and Nick’s rage suddenly deflated.
He looked . . . defeated. Older. More silver had crept into his black hair since the
ordeal with Darrow, and he appeared haunted all the time. The hopeless expression
on his face, his entire demeanor, scared her.

This was why she’d called Damien. Her dad needed help.

Damien must’ve seen the same thing in him, because he met Selene’s gaze briefly. Nodded.
Then he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring Tag’s outstretched hand, and stepped
up to Nick again. Took a chance.

“I can’t erase the years I took from you and Selene,” he said, his tone laced with
sincere regret. “But I can offer a new beginning. I’d like to see us all put the past
behind us, start over, and find our way as a family. Would you be willing to try?
Can you accept me back into your life?”

Selene held her breath. Long moments ticked by as they waited for another explosion.

But it didn’t come. Instead, Nick met Damien’s gaze, his eyes moist. “It won’t be
easy.”

“But you’d like to try?” The hope there was almost painful to see.

“Yes.”

Just that one word. But it was enough.

Taking a big chance, Damien wrapped his brother in a strong embrace—and slowly, Nick’s
arms came around him. Tears rolled down Selene’s face as she watched him take that
first tenuous step to reconciliation. No, it wouldn’t be easy for them, but it was
a start.

As they drew back, Selene cleared her throat. “Well, since it seems there won’t be
bloodshed, I’d like to introduce someone. Uncle Damien, Taggart, this is my mate,
Zander Cole. Zan, my uncle and my friend Tag.”

Zan shook hands with both men and offered them a smile. Tag’s answering greeting wasn’t
quite as enthusiastic, but he appeared to accept Zan’s place in Selene’s life as he
shot her a glance of resignation and then took Zan’s hand.

“Good to meet you both,” Zan said. “Hey, I smell some burgers cooking. Anybody hungry?”

There was a general consensus that eating sounded good, and Zan skillfully led Damien
and Tag toward the party.
Talk to your father
, he encouraged through their bond.
We’ll be fine.

Thank you, love.

He winked and disappeared around the corner. Heart aching with love, she went to Nick.
Touched his arm. There were only two things she needed to say, and her father needed
to hear them.

“I forgive you, Daddy,” she said quietly. “And I love you.”

For a few seconds, he hung his head. And then he pulled her into his arms with a choked
sob and held on as though he’d never let go. She relished being in her dad’s strong
embrace, let his love surround and fill her. Until this moment, there had been a piece
of her soul missing.

Now it had been returned.

“I love you too, baby girl. So damned much.” They clung together for a few more moments,
until he kissed her on top of the head and set her back from him, giving her a watery
smile.

“Are you going to be all right? Really?”

“I will.” He touched her hair. “I’ve got you and the Pack in the meantime to get me
through. I’ll be okay.”

“And Damien, too. You’ve got him.”

“We’ll see.”

It was as much as he’d admit for the time being, and that was fine with her. He’d
opened the door and that would have to be enough.

“Come on.” She took his arm. “Let’s go find the party.”

“Sounds good.”

•   •   •

Zan led Damien and the glowering Tag to the area where the burgers and hot dogs were
being served and introduced them around. The intros were met with open curiosity,
but he was glad the Pack and their mates were welcoming. He got a plate for himself
and assembled a towering burger, trying not to smirk as Tag spoke.

“Selene has been my friend since we were pups. If you hurt her, I’ll become your worst
nightmare.”

Unconcerned, Zan took a huge bite of his burger, chewed and swallowed. Then he said,
“I think you wanted to be more than friends. Am I right?”

“That doesn’t matter now.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” He let some steel creep into his tone. “I’ll take good
care of my mate—don’t you worry. You want to remain friends with Selene, and that’s
fine. But if you cross the line, I’ll teach you what the word ‘nightmare’ really means.”

“Fair enough.” The big man smiled, and Zan had the feeling he’d somehow won the guy
over.

Born shifters were weird.

It was a relief to see his mate rounding the corner with Nick. The pair was arm in
arm, and the stress around Nick’s mouth seemed less. He looked more at peace than
he had in days.

Nick kissed his daughter, then made for the burger station. Spotting Zan, she made
a beeline for him, lips curved in a soft smile.

“How’s Nick?” he asked when she walked up.

“Better, I hope. I’m so worried about him, though.”

“I know you are, baby. Why don’t you get some food and let’s go back to our blanket.”

He waited as she made a plate for herself, and then they walked together back to their
spot. He held her plate as she sat, then placed them on the blanket before taking
a seat beside her. He tucked her into his side. That felt good. He and his wolf approved.

For a time they simply enjoyed each other’s company and finished their food, watching
the party in progress. Across the way, Damien approached Nick and made an attempt
at conversation, though Zan could tell from here it was tense at best.

“They’ll make it,” he said to his mate. “Wait and see.”

“I hope so. I love them both.” She turned to him, vivid blue eyes sparkling. “Almost
as much as I love you.”

“Oh, my mate wants something,” he teased. “What could it be?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She pretended to think. “You, sprawled out naked on our bed?”

His cock stirred to life, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. “That,
my beautiful mate, can be arranged.”

“Now?”

“Oh, yes. Right now.”

Wasting no time, Zan pulled her to her feet and led her back inside to their quarters.
Then he undressed her slowly, kissing and licking, savoring every gorgeous inch of
her creamy skin as each part was exposed. Shoulders, breasts, tummy. And lower.

When he had her panting for more, he shed his clothes and made her scenario a reality,
spreading himself on the bed, cock resting hard against his thigh. Crawling over his
body, she returned the favor, nibbling, laving, and stroking his cock and balls until
he thought he’d explode.

Then she straddled his lap and took him inside her slick heat, and he did just that.
As she moved on top of him, he couldn’t stop the orgasm from erupting, and he emptied
his seed deep inside his mate with a cry of completion that rocked his soul.

“I love you,” he said as they floated down together.

“And I love you too. So much.”

Rolling them, he tucked her back into his front, spoons in a drawer. Just breathed
her sweet scent and counted himself a very, very lucky wolf.

He was immortal and mated to the woman of his dreams. Yes, there were challenging
times ahead for him, for his mate, and for their Pack. For her father and Damien.

But they would make it, he was certain. They had love.

And he was living proof that sometimes love truly could conquer all.

•   •   •

I forgive you, Daddy. And I love you.

The words Nick had been desperate to hear for so long. Selene was the light of his
life, his only source of happiness. She wanted them to be a family—all of them, including
Damien. At one time, he would have sold his soul to make that happen. And now?

Would it be enough to save him?

Rounding the corner of the building, he rejoined the party, but kept to the fringes.
His men and their mates gave him space, sensing he wanted to be left alone. Under
a tree, he leaned one shoulder against the rough bark.

And that’s when he saw Calla.

She’d arrived late, apparently, and was greeted by Tarron. Brother and sister were
all smiles as he hugged her warmly and began introducing her to Nick’s friends and
colleagues. Watching her as he’d done that day in the forest, but with much less privacy,
his heart began to pound. His palms began to sweat.

Calla was beauty personified, wrapped in an ethereal package of sexy vampire.

Vampire. His heart pounded harder, for a different reason now, and his skin grew cold.
Carter Darrow had been a vampire, too. His nightmare, his secret shame.

You’re mine now,
Darrow had murmured against his skin.
Say it.

I’m yours.

What do you want, wolf?

Drink from me. Take it all.

Patience. I’ll do as you wish. After we’ve enjoyed this fully.

He had enjoyed it. He’d begged Darrow to do it and had craved more.

God help him, he craved more even now.

Suddenly, Nick realized that Tarron and Calla were headed his way. As they approached,
the pair gave him a friendly smile, and it was obvious that introductions were about
to take place. Nick pasted on a smile and steeled himself, ready to brave out a few
moments for the sake of politeness.

“Nick, I don’t believe you two have had the opportunity to meet,” Tarron said, gesturing
to the vision at his side. “This is my sister, Princess Calla Shaw. Calla, Nick Westfall,
commander of the Alpha Pack.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Princess,” he said.

She smiled, showing the tips of her fangs. “Just Calla, please.”

Nick took her hand—and a shock traveled up his arm, taking his breath. Her wonderful,
tantalizing scent reached him first. Then the vision hit him so suddenly, there was
no time to prepare.

Calla, wearing white. Sobbing on her wedding altar.

Alone.

Tears were streaming down her lovely face, and she was devastated. Heart shattered.
She’d gambled on love and lost.

He came back to himself and found his guests staring at him in alarm. “It’s all right,”
he said hoarsely. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, but will you both excuse me for a few moments?”

“Wait,” Calla called out.

But he kept moving. Strode inside the building and made for the safety of his office,
where he could think. Reaching his space, he closed and locked the door and then dropped
into the chair behind his desk.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “It can’t be.”

His body flashed hot and cold. Grew clammy with fear. Lowering his hands, he reached
for his desk drawer. Slid it open.

And stared for a long time at the gleaming pistol inside.

His hand shook. After a time, he closed the drawer, leaving the weapon untouched.
But it was tempting. It would be too easy to end the pain of submitting to Darrow.
The nightmares.

The dreams of what could never be.

Against all odds, fate had given him another chance at love—with a woman he could
never touch.

A woman he couldn’t allow to touch
him
. To feed from him.

The very idea of another pair of fangs sliding into his skin, lips sucking, pulling
at his life’s blood, the compulsion making him beg . . . He couldn’t do it. And so,
fate had screwed him one last time.

Because Princess Calla Shaw, vampire, was his Bondmate.

Read on for an exciting preview of

the first in the Torn Between Two Lovers

e-book trilogy by Jo Davis,

RAW

Available from InterMix.

A
nna Claire sipped her dirty martini and observed the restaurant from her soothing
darkened corner. From back here, nobody could see her slip off her Pradas under the
table and stretch her aching feet.

This place was her domain, her baby. Every stick of furniture, every glass, every
fork, knife, and spoon belonged to her. The staff moved as efficiently as a well-oiled
machine under her ownership and also the direction of her brilliant head chef, Ethan
Collingsworth. They respected her and were quite terrified of Ethan’s wrath, an arrangement
that suited her just fine.

She didn’t need to be bosom buddies with her employees to be a success. Quite the
opposite had proven true in her previous business experience. She merely needed intelligence,
persistence, and lots of money.

Anna had plenty of all three.

Which didn’t explain why she was sitting alone in a corner booth of her own high-end
New York establishment, feeling sort of down, when by all rights she should be basking
in the glow of two years of hard work come to fruition, from conception to success.

Soft laughter and a tinkling of glasses drew her attention toward a table on the far
side of the main dining room. A group of four was having some sort of celebratory
gathering, and they looked happy as they toasted with champagne. At ease and on top
of the world. A promotion perhaps or the landing of a big account. An engagement or
a pregnancy. Whatever the occasion, Anna couldn’t help but feel proud that they’d
chosen her restaurant for their celebration. On the way to her own table, Anna had
welcomed them and told them so.

But as she watched, a sense of melancholy stole over her. Nobody had ever really celebrated
Anna’s
accomplishments. Even her own mother didn’t “get” her, didn’t understand what drove
Anna to succeed, especially in the restaurant business. Margaret Claire was set in
her ways and her thinking and never minced words. Like many parents, she had the power
to make Anna bleed from hundreds of tiny invisible cuts, even if she didn’t realize
it.

Her mother stared at her incredulously. “Let me get this straight—you worked hard
to make that little café of yours a success, and now you’re
going to just throw it away . . . spend a ton of money to open a fancy restaurant
in New York City.” The older woman sighed. “Honey, you were doing well as a manager,
and then you went out on a limb with the café and did all right. But this? I don’t
understand why you need to take a risk this big.”

Anna’s heart froze. Was she kidding? “This restaurant has been my goal for as long
as I can remember! You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said!”

So unbending, her mother. Such a product of her own upbringing as the daughter of
a steelworker and a teacher. The Claires were good, salt-of-the-earth people who worked
hard and loved harder. But the fact remained that they were also narrow-minded in
their view of what equaled success—and that typically involved punching a clock nine
to five and earning a retirement after forty years or so of working for someone else.

She tried again. “Mom, did it ever occur to you that employees have to work for somebody?
Someone intelligent who knows their business? And that the boss might as well be me?”

Margaret Claire just stared at her daughter as though she’d spoken in tongues and
sacrificed a chicken in the front yard.

“Miss Claire?”

Anna snapped to the present and blinked at the man standing in front of her table.
She’d expected to see one of her waiters but instead was greeted by a tall man dressed
in kitchen whites. In the dim lighting, it took her a moment to focus on his features.

He was a big man, fit and broad-shouldered, and she could only guess at the muscles
hiding under the drab required uniform. His short golden brown hair was mussed in
that sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed look that turned her on when a man knew how to pull
it off—and this one did. His full lips quirked upward, and she found herself wondering,
not for the first time, how he would taste. Brows that were a bit darker than his
hair arched over expressive blue eyes, which conveyed a very male interest he couldn’t
quite hide, or hadn’t bothered to, from day one.

The last idea intrigued her in spite of herself—what kind of man would hit on his
boss? One who was either very stupid or very confident.

Anna had always found confident men to be extremely sexy.

“Mr. James? What can I do for you?” She made it a point to know the name of every
single employee, so his came effortlessly—and the question emerged more flirty than
she’d intended.

Grayson James, the new prep chef, was one rung on the ladder above the janitor of
this building. At age thirty-three, he was a bit long in the tooth if he hoped to
make head chef one day, but he’d come highly recommended from Le Cordon Bleu, one
of the most prestigious cooking schools around. That, and his letters of recommendation
from the senior partners at his former law firm, had been enough for Anna. She’d hired
him on the spot, despite a few reservations Ethan had voiced.

Who was she to hold back someone determined to follow his dream?

“Chef sent me to see if you wanted anything special for your dinner,” he said in a
smooth, deep voice.

A “radio voice,” her mother would say if she were here. Anna toyed with her martini
glass, trying to ignore the warmth that pooled in her middle at the sound and traveled
south. The man was an employee and she had no business drooling over him, much less
playing this flirtatious cat-and-mouse game with him for the past few weeks. But she
supposed what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She cocked her head, lips curving upward. “I highly doubt Ethan did any such thing.”

He made a face. “Busted. But how else was I supposed to get away to talk to the most
beautiful woman in the whole place?”

Pleasure curled through her insides. “You’ve got a big, steely pair, Mr. James. I
like that.”

Something hungry, predatory, flared in his eyes and he leaned over slightly. His voice
was husky as he parried her thrust. “Do you? That’s good, because I happen to like
a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to grab it.”

“I’m afraid of very little,” she said, eyeing him in appreciation and not bothering
to hide it.

“And yet I sense you holding back with me.”

“I’m careful in every aspect of my life. A little common sense is a good thing.”

“Not when it interferes with the fun of living, I think. I guess I’ll have to make
it my mission to loosen you up, boss lady.” Her brows shot up, but he didn’t wait
for a response. “Would you like to order something?”

You. Naked on a platter with an apple in your mouth.
“What’s Ethan’s special tonight?”

“The duck over a bed of sautéed greens, with a mushroom wine sauce drizzled on top.”

“Sounds fantastic. I’ll have that.”

“Wise choice.” The man actually winked at her and grinned. “Ethan does get testy when
the patrons don’t follow his recommendations.”

Damn the man for having the most alluring dimple on the left side of his mouth.

“Everything he creates is beyond compare. Our diners can’t go wrong, no matter what
they order.”

“True. I’ll let him know your choice.” He waved a hand at her glass. “Another?”

She debated, then nodded. “I think I will.”

He laughed. “So long as you’re able to walk at the end of the evening, that’s fine.”

She barely managed to keep her mouth from falling open at his forwardness. If any
other employee had made that remark, she would’ve reprimanded him. When it came to
Gray, however, she couldn’t be upset when his playfulness was edged with genuine concern.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I won’t be behind the wheel and I only live five blocks
away.”

“But you could stagger in front of a tour bus,” he said innocently. “Then who would
sign my paychecks?”

As she opened her mouth to retort that he wouldn’t have to worry about that if he
was no longer working here, she was shocked when he turned his back and simply walked
away. The arrogant bastard just left her sitting there, his carriage and attitude
screaming that he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her position as owner. Any of
the others, save Ethan, would bow, scrape, and stammer in her presence. But not this
man.

That damned confidence she couldn’t resist. Somehow, in the space of a couple of weeks,
the prep chef had honed in on her weakness and filleted it like a sea bass in Ethan’s
kitchen.

The second drink and her duck were delivered with a flourish, but with no further
sign of Mr. James. It surprised her to realize she was disappointed. That small exchange
had left her feeling more charged than she had in a while. Almost like she’d been
awakened from a deep sleep.

Her meal had never tasted better, and she wondered whether a certain sexy prep chef
had anything to do with that. Thoughts of him replayed in her head as she ate, and
by the time she was ready to leave, she found her eyes straying toward the doors to
the kitchen. Was she really so eager to get another glimpse of the man?
You’re the boss. Just go in there and check on things. You don’t need an excuse.

When she was finished, she did just that. But only because she needed to close her
office and retrieve her purse, she told herself. Mr. James was hard at work chopping
vegetables when she walked through, and he barely acknowledged her with a nod. There
was no cocky grin this time, no heat in his gaze. No familiarity. But then she caught
Ethan observing him and not bothering to hide it, so that made sense. The chef was
his boss as well and was much more stern and scary than Anna. No way would anyone
in his right mind invite a tongue-lashing from Ethan.

Grayson James, on the other hand, could give me a tongue-lashing of a different sort.
A very welcome one.

Good God! Annoyed with herself, she went through some paperwork and studied some orders
for fresh meat and vegetables. Then she left twenty minutes later, locking her office
and passing through the kitchen without letting her attention stray to the object
of her fantasies, and took the elevator down to the lobby.

Fatigue dragged at her as she pushed through the revolving door, and she suddenly
wished she’d called a cab. But that was ridiculous for a mere five-block walk, even
this late at night. At least the city never really slept, and there were cops on almost
every corner this close to Times Square.

That’s what she told herself, anyway, as the bright lights of her restaurant’s block
gave way to the lengthening shadows of a residential area with fewer people about.
Though she was tired, her senses were on alert for any movement. Any person who didn’t
belong.

So she was jolted with terror when a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her into an alley
between two apartment buildings. “Hey!” she yelled. “Stop!”

Another shriek was abruptly cut off by a palm clapped over her mouth as she was pulled
backward, farther into the darkness. The hand was covered by a ragged glove with the
fingers cut out, because they were digging into her cheek.

Every horror story she’d ever heard about women being abducted and assaulted flashed
through her mind, and she exploded in movement, fighting him like a wildcat. Twisting
and bucking, she managed to make him lose his grip for a moment—just long enough to
sink her teeth into the side of his hand as hard as she could through the glove’s
material.

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Jerking his hand away, he shoved her back into the side of the nearest
building, then spun her around and pushed her face-first into the bricks before she
could glimpse his features or clothing. “Scream or bite me again and I’ll snap your
pretty neck! Got it?”

She nodded, heart slamming against her rib cage. “Wh-what do you want? Money? It’s
in my purse.”

“And where’s your purse?”

She jerked her head as much as she could in the direction they’d come. “Over there.
I dropped it.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll go back for that,” he said in a low voice. “But I’m thinking the
real prize is right here in my hands. Begging for a piece of this.” As emphasis, he
ground his groin into her ass.

“Y-you don’t want to do this,” she said, breathless with fear. “Someone will come
and you’ll be caught. Just take the money and go.”

“Nobody’s coming. Why can’t I have both?”

“People live here. You don’t want to risk jail.”

“As if guys like me care about getting sent to Club Fed. Three squares a day, exercise,
reading, and TV. Hell, I could even study for a trade, which is more than I get on
the street.”

“Please,” she begged as his hand began to creep under the hem of her blouse. “Don’t—”

Just then, the man’s weight vanished from her back. Before she could register why,
she heard a vicious curse and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Spinning around,
she spotted two men bounce off the wall and into some garbage cans, sending the receptacles
flying and causing a loud clatter. In the dim light, she could barely make out a large
man punching a slightly smaller man. The more slightly built one was dressed in a
hoodie, the bigger one in jeans and a T-shirt.

She had to do something. Get help before her rescuer got hurt.

Just as she was about to turn and run, the attacker shoved the bigger man away from
him and fled. He was fast, booking it down the alley and skidding around the corner.
Gone, just like that. The bigger man stood under a sliver of moonlight, chest heaving,
his tense stance suggesting that he was tempted to give chase. Instead, he faced her
and took a couple of tentative steps.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

His voice was so familiar, but she was badly shaken. She could hardly think straight
as she replied, “I feel sick.”

“Here, let me help you.” Taking her gently by the hand, he led her out of the alley,
stooping to grab her purse on the way and hand it to her.