Crave the Night: A Midnight Breed Novel (5 page)

A growl vibrated in Chase’s chest now. “I’ll forbid her to leave.”

Tavia sighed. “You can’t and you know it. Trying to force her will only make her dig her heels in harder. Carys is a headstrong young woman—not that either of her parents should be surprised by that.”

“No,” Chase replied, his eyes gentle on his mate, even if his tone remained firm. “But if she’s leaving because she’s got a head full of steam over something, or if she’s in some kind of trouble—”

Tavia shook her head. “If she’s upset or in any trouble, you know she’ll only try to shield us from worrying about her. Nathan, what do you think? Are we being too protective if we try to make her stay?”

Fuck
. How he’d found himself in the role of family mediator, Nathan had no bloody idea.

But it was difficult not to be moved by Chase and Tavia’s obvious love and concern for their child, even if Carys was a full-grown woman, twenty years old. She was stronger than most later-generation Breed males, and more than capable of taking care of herself.

“You raised her to be independent—Aric too. If Carys feels she’s ready to live on her own, she’s going to do it. No matter what anyone says or thinks. But if you’ll sleep better knowing my team and I will keep a close eye on her, consider it done.”

“Thank you, Nathan,” Tavia said, exhaling her relief while Chase gathered his mate close and gave Nathan a brief nod of appreciation for his offer. The three of them exited the conference room to the corridor outside. They paused there, and Tavia lifted her head from where it rested against Chase’s shoulder. “I still think it can’t hurt to talk to her one more time, see if I can persuade her to change her mind.”

Chase grinned. “Your powers of persuasion may work flawlessly on me, love, but good luck dealing with your daughter. And you’d better work fast. She’s upstairs now, packing up her things with Jordana.”

Nathan stood there as the couple excused themselves and strolled away hand in hand.

Jordana Gates was there right now, upstairs in the estate. Helping Carys collect her belongings, a task that would likely keep Jordana under the same roof as Nathan for the next couple of hours at least.

Christ
.

He pivoted abruptly and stalked down the corridor in the opposite direction of Chase and Tavia, toward the passage that would lead him to the weapons room.

It was about as far away from the living quarters of the mansion as he could get. A few hours of physical training was just what he needed. Hell, the way his blood was churning through his veins now, he might not come up for air until the night’s patrol was ready to head out.

With any luck, by the time he surfaced, Carys and her new roommate would be long gone.

JORDANA BLEW OUT A SIGH AS SHE CAME TO A STOP IN A LONG, empty corridor—one of many confusing arteries in the Chases’ sprawling estate.

Had Carys said to turn
left-left-right-left
once she was in the Order’s command center wing of the mansion, or
left-right-left-left?

Shit
.

A simple quest to fetch more packing tape for her friend had now delivered Jordana deep into the warriors’ domain. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to be there. Not when the odds of encountering Nathan in that part of the mansion seemed a bit too likely for her peace of mind.

But Carys had been insistent. She’d made it seem like no big thing at all: “Just run down to the central supply room and grab another roll of tape for me, will you? Take you not even ten minutes round trip, and I’ll have this box of shoes ready to go by the time you get back.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jordana was still wandering the corridors, becoming more turned around with each step she took.

She was sure she’d followed Carys’s directions correctly …

Whether she did or not, she was definitely in the wrong place now. Ahead of her at the far end of the passageway was a set of steel double doors with a security access panel mounted to the right of them on the wall. Above the doors, the dark, unblinking eye of a surveillance camera stared down at her.

“Dammit, Carys,” she whispered. “Next time you have a fool’s errand to run, you’re doing it yourself.”

Jordana edged backward a few steps, hoping she didn’t look as uncomfortable or idiotic as she felt to whoever might be monitoring the corridor. Then again, it was probably too late to worry about that. She just needed to get out of there, before she wandered any farther afield.

Spinning on her heel, she hurried back the way she came. She was jogging at a good clip by the time she reached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner—

Only to run full tilt into a wall of unmovable, warm flesh and bone.

Nathan.

Oh, God
.

He caught her by her upper arms, muttering a curse that didn’t sound happy to see her either. “I might’ve guessed,” he growled, more to himself than her. “Never did have much faith in luck.”

Jordana struggled to find her voice for a second. “Excuse me?”

Caught in his grasp with only inches between them, she stood there immobile, her hands splayed on his broad chest. Though he was wearing a T-shirt, her palms burned with the heat rolling off the firm planes and bulges of his body beneath the soft black cotton that covered him.

His eyes bored into her, and she realized she never knew what color they were until now. Deep, greenish blue, they looked like the sky just before the arrival of a brutal storm.

That same dark, arresting stare had held her across the room of the museum last night.

Demanding.

Possessive.

Even now, she found it hard to tear herself away from Nathan’s unnerving gaze. “I, um … I was looking for packing tape for Carys,” she blurted. “She gave me directions for the supply room, but I must be lost.”

He grunted, one black brow lifting almost imperceptibly.

Jordana rushed on, hating how he unsettled her. “Usually when I’m here at the mansion, I keep to the residential areas.”

“As you should,” he said. “You don’t belong down here.”

The words were rough gravel, a deep rumble that vibrated through her spread fingers, which were still pressed against his chest.

The low thunder of his voice traveled into her limbs. Into the suddenly quivering center of her body.

Jordana yanked her hands away from him, cradling her crossed fists to her breast. “I’m just … I’m going to go now, then.”

God help her, but he kept on staring at her, watching her dangle on the strings of her own unease around him. His harsh, handsome face was so unreadable, she wondered if he was actually looking at her or through her.

The way he studied her, Jordana felt … exposed. She felt stripped and vulnerable under his penetrating eyes. Completely at his mercy.

His dark eyes drifted to her mouth and she was instantly reminded of the kiss they shared. Well, not shared exactly, considering she was the one who’d done all the kissing.

Nathan had stood there much the way he was now, rock solid, unshakable.

Maddeningly cool and in control.

Jordana wondered how he did it—how he could seem so unaffected yet hold her in a gaze that made her instincts come alive with an anticipation bordering on the profane. Ever fiber in her body was tuned to him, even though her head was telling her to run away. Telling her to avoid this dangerous man and the dark temptations that lurked in his stormy eyes.

What did her senses know about Nathan that her mind had not yet grasped?

Maybe if she kissed him again, she could figure out what it was about this Breed male that had her so flustered and confused.

A low snarl gathered at the back of his throat now. “Come with me.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command, and even though she wanted desperately to refuse, her feet were already moving beneath her, following his gruff order.

Jordana assumed he was bringing her back to the residential wing of the estate. Instead, she soon found herself trailing him down another snaking corridor, heading for a closed door near the end of the passageway.

Nathan opened the door, then turned to her. “Inside.”

She glanced past him to the unlit room on the other side of the threshold.

And apparently her body still trusted him more than her head, because she walked into the inky gloom without so much as a word of doubt.

He followed her in, so close she could feel his body heat searing the length of her back.

It was impossible not to acknowledge the danger of walking into a
dark room in a long, empty corridor with the most lethal man she would probably ever know.

And yet her pulse was kicking in her veins. Her skin felt tight, too warm. Not with fear, even though it should be.

Expectation was a taut coil, twisting in her stomach … and lower still.

When would he touch her?

It wasn’t a question of
if;
she knew that in the same way she knew that when he did finally put his hands on her, she would let him.

Jordana waited to feel his fingers against her skin, his breath in her hair. She craved it, wanting it so badly in that moment, she could hardly breathe.

Nathan shifted behind her. He moved even closer now, and Jordana closed her eyes, lungs frozen.

A light flicked on overhead.

After the engulfing darkness of a moment ago, it blared jarringly bright, illuminating the small, enclosed surroundings.

“The supply room,” Jordana whispered, trying to convince herself she was relieved.

Nathan stepped past her and prowled over to a tower of sturdy metal shelves. He grabbed a thick roll of clear tape from among a variety of stacked office products and tech equipment.

He returned, tape in hand, but drew it back when Jordana reached to take it from him.

“Carys is moving out today.” When Jordana nodded, he narrowed his eyes on her. “Because of what happened last night between her and Aric?”

Jordana shook her head. “No. Because it’s time. She wants to live her life.”

Nathan made a dubious noise in the back of his throat. “What kind of a life do you expect she’ll have with a male like Rune?”

“It’s not my place to judge,” Jordana replied. “Besides, she’s moving in with me, not him. What happens between Carys and Rune is their business.”

“Until he hurts her. Or worse,” Nathan warned.

“Rune would never hurt Carys. He loves her—”

Nathan scoffed. “That what he’s telling her?”

Jordana frowned. “He’s told her as much, yes. But I see it when they’re together too. Carys and Rune are deeply in love.”

“And you’re some kind of expert in that emotion, I suppose.” Something dark glimmered in his unwavering gaze. “You can tell what’s in a man’s heart just by looking at him?”

Jordana had to work to keep from squirming in his presence. He wasn’t talking about Rune and Carys now. She knew that, but imagining he might be talking about himself was a path she didn’t dare tread.

Not here.

Not when she had nowhere to escape, even if she wanted to.

“Carys is a grown woman,” Jordana said, hoping to put the focus back where it belonged. “If she decides to be with Rune—even if she takes him as her blood-bonded mate someday—that’s entirely up to her. No matter what you or her family thinks would be best for her.”

“If you really believed that, I doubt you’d be with someone like Elliott Bentley-Squire.”

Jordana couldn’t even try to hide the fact that she was totally taken aback. “You know Elliott?”

He lifted his shoulder in a negligent shrug. “I know everything I need to know about him. I don’t find him all that interesting. Which makes me wonder why you do.” It was an impolite question, but Nathan didn’t seem to care. “You and Elliott Bentley-Squire have been a foregone conclusion for the past year, give or take.”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Long time,” Nathan said. “And yet no blood bond.”

Jordana frowned, feeling a need to defend herself. Elliott too. “He and I have known each other forever. Elliott has been a family friend since I was a child.” When Nathan’s face remained impassive, she said, “We’ll make things official when we’re ready. We’re in no hurry.”

“Apparently,” he agreed, but his tone was anything but light. “From what I’ve seen of the man’s professional résumé, it doesn’t indicate an inability to close a deal. So I’m guessing the problem must lie with you.”

“There is no problem,” she insisted, surprised at how desperately she wanted to convince him of that. Right now, standing just a foot away from Nathan in the seclusion of the supply room, she needed to convince herself that she belonged to Elliott Bentley-Squire. Jordana lifted her chin. “You seem to think you know a lot about Elliott and me. Do you make a practice of invading civilians’ privacy?”

“No. Only women who make it a practice of kissing me, then insisting to their presumptive mates that they have no idea who I am.”

Oh, God
. Before he left the museum, Nathan must have heard her
deny knowing him to Elliott. Jordana winced, remorseful now. She gave a mild shake of her head. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “If you have to lie to Bentley-Squire to keep him happy, it’s none of my concern.”