Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf Hunter\Possessed by a Wolf (32 page)

Leo stopped and gave Lexie a slight, gentlemanly bow. “I trust you are recovered after the frights of last night.”

Both Lexie and Faran returned his bow with respectful nods. “I am, my lord,” she said.

“I am delighted to hear it.” Ignoring Faran, he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Lexie thanked her personal angels that she'd taken off the ring and put it in her pocket.

“I am an admirer of your work,” said the prince, doing a reasonable smolder with his dark eyes. “I would like you to take my portrait while I'm here for the wedding.”

Lexie tugged at her hand, wanting to keep things professional. “That's very kind of you. I'd be honored.”

A look of satisfaction crossed the prince's features. “Perhaps we could combine dinner with our session, make an evening of it. There is no harm in matching a little pleasure with business.”

Leo was still holding her hand. She drew it away. He reached for it again.

Faran cleared his throat.

Prince Leo looked at him coolly. “And you are?”

“Faran Kenyon, Your Royal Highness.” He bowed slightly, but with grace. It showed the required level of respect, but not one bit more.

Lexie slipped her contested hand around Faran's arm. “My husband,” she said brightly. She felt Faran's muscles tense as if he braced for a blow, but he didn't deny it.

Leo's expression puckered, as if he'd swallowed a bug. “I had no idea.”

Neither had Lexie until that moment, but Chloe's fiction suddenly seemed ideal. Faran drew himself up to his full six and a half feet. He did loom marvelously well.

Prince Leo's mouth curved into the facsimile of a smile. “Well then,” he said. “We'll be in touch.”

“I'll be happy to set up a shoot,” Faran said pleasantly, although his tone spoke more of semiautomatics than shutter speeds.

Giving Faran a murderous look, Leo walked back to his friends and picked a ball from one of their sports bags. He tossed it in the air, catching it. “Good to know who's qualified to handle the delicate equipment.”

Lexie flinched at the double meaning.

“Now, I think I need to go take a shower.” Leo gave a wicked grin and sent the ball speeding toward Faran. “Ball's in your court.”

Quicker than Lexie could see, Faran snatched it out of the air just as it was about to smash into Jack's portrait. A low rumble came from Faran's throat, but by then the tennis players were too far away to hear.

But Lexie heard, and it spooked her. She stepped away from Faran, suddenly wanting distance between them again.

“Are you going to take Leo up on his job offer?” Faran asked with deceptive smoothness.

“I don't know,” she said. “But don't worry, I'm used to keeping clients in line.”

His eyes glittered. The color didn't change from their startling blue, but she could glimpse the wolf just beneath the surface. The look said she was his territory to guard. “He's slime. The dinner date is out of the question.”

His tone suffocated her, pushing every button. She wasn't putting up with orders, not even from a wolf. “Now you sound like a husband.”

“Heaven forbid.” Faran stuffed his hands in his pockets and began striding away.

Lexie cursed under her breath, remembering the proposal that never was. She had no idea where Faran was going, except that it was away from her. “Get over it. Leo was just playing games.”

He kept walking.

She folded her arms. “And calm down. We've been pretending to be husband and wife for five minutes, and already we need counseling.”

Faran spun to face her. Lexie's stomach dropped, but this time it wasn't out of fear. He was yards away, but she could see emotion in every line of his body. There wasn't just possession there, but feral desire. He'd wanted her before—lustily, heartily—but now she realized that he'd been showing only a tenth of what he felt. That knowledge rang through her like a tolling bell.

She felt the tug of his need deep in her belly, and heat pooled inside her. He'd walked away from her last night. He'd tried just now. It couldn't happen again.
But wanting him back doesn't change what he is
.

The wolf terrified her, but the intensity she saw in the man before her was even more formidable. She was most comfortable dancing on the surface of life, hopping a plane before she had the chance to set down roots. That was her nature—restless, yearning, never knowing what it was that drove her like a leaf in the wind. Faran demanded more from her, and she'd never known how to give it.

Wolves mate for life
.

That scared her every bit as much as the fangs.

Chapter 8

L
exie looked shell-shocked. Faran knew the expression—he'd seen it plenty of times from plenty of people when he'd let the wolf peek out. That was why Faran tried to keep the world at a distance with an easygoing smile and quick wit. The only one who'd never flinched away had been Jack, but he was gone. Lexie was right there, looking as if she'd just encountered a nightmare.
Way to go, wolf boy.

Mercifully, their summons to Princess Amelie's quarters came before the situation spiraled any closer to the drain. The princess's apartments turned out to be spacious, decorated in gold and burgundy. Glass doors opened onto a balcony with a view of the sea.

Private was a relative term when it came to the court, but Amelie had dismissed everyone but herself and Prince Kyle. He and Lexie were alone with two members of the royalty. All at once Faran's role as lifeline to the exiled Company felt real.

“What happened to you two?” asked Princess Amelie. “You look like you've been rolling in the dirt.” The princess looked tired, as if last night's debacle had sapped her energy. She was seated at one end of a dainty sofa, her attention on Prince Kyle, who paced near the balcony doors.

“My apologies for our appearance, Your Royal Highness,” said Faran. “We felt it was most important to come here directly. I trust you'll understand once you've heard what we have to say.”

“Which is what?” Kyle asked. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. “I've been hearing odd reports from Captain Valois. A car chase. Gunshots. A wreck found in the woods. It seems your rental car appeared at a local garage, Ms. Haven, rather the worse for wear.”

Lexie colored. “It's been an eventful day, my lord.”

“I think you'd better tell us the whole story from the beginning.”

Lexie did, starting with her interview with Valois and finishing with the crash and how she'd found the ring. Faran added a word here and there, but Lexie's account was thorough. Before she got to the fight with Gillon, however, she searched in her pocket and pulled out the wedding band. The princess took it with a cry of surprise.

Kyle drew near, a crease between the dark line of his brows. “I feared we would never see the rubies of Vidon again. You say you found this on the dead man?”

“I did, Your Highness. This is his face.” She took out her cell phone and showed him the picture.

Kyle looked at the image, and frowned harder. “What happened to his body? None was found at the scene of the wreck.”

Faran and Lexie exchanged a look. Faran licked his lips. “He melted.”

Kyle blinked. “He what?”

“It was like...” Faran groped for a comparison. “Do you ever watch late-night horror movies, my lord?”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Not since I was thirteen.”

“I do,” replied Amelie.

“You do?” Kyle asked in surprise.

The princess gave a delicate shrug. “My bodyguards are vampires. They like mocking the dialogue.”

“Um.” Kyle rubbed his forehead and returned his attention to Faran. “Explain exactly what happened with this melting man.”

Faran did his best. “I fully confess that I shot him, Your Highness. Lexie had no part in that.”

“I just clubbed him with a tire iron,” she said helpfully.

“Very well.” Clearly agitated, Kyle returned to his post by the balcony doors. “You defended yourselves and you retrieved the stolen ring. I would ask no less of any agents I hired in my name, or in that of my betrothed. You need not fear reprisals for what you have done today.”

Faran exhaled silently, but with heartfelt relief. Although the Company operated with considerable latitude, he was taking nothing for granted.

“But who is this Gillon?” Amelie asked. “What was he doing with the ring and why was he following you?”

“He was one of the men who chased me last night,” Faran replied. “Though why he had the ring, I don't know.”

“He was a Knight of Vidon?” Amelie asked, her voice tense. “A slayer?”

“It seems so,” Faran agreed.

“I don't know what to make of that,” said Kyle. “The Knights are loyal to the old ways and often I disagree with them. But they would hardly hire a—whatever he was. They object to all things supernatural.”

“My lord, in the past the Knights of Vidon have dabbled in strange scientific experiments,” Faran put in. “I've seen the results.”

“That element was purged from their ranks,” Kyle said firmly. “In all likelihood, Gillon, or whoever hired him, stole the ring because of its value, or to create complications that might upset our wedding plans. Not everyone wants peace between our nations.”

“Couldn't it also have been a crime of opportunity?” Amelie added. “The ring was unattended for a moment, so he took it.”

Kyle gave her a grim smile, but his eyes were soft when he regarded her. “Perhaps, although you must admit the miscommunication about the Company's withdrawal from the palace caused a perfect distraction. That smacks of planning to me.”

“But who is behind this?” Amelie asked, her voice cracking. “Too much is going on that I don't understand. The ring is just the start of it. Why has the Company been sent away? Why was this Gillon following you? And what manner of creature was he?”

They all fell silent for a moment. The princess had neatly summed up their questions. The two people who might have had real answers—the kings of Marcari and Vidon—had been conspicuously absent for days. Kyle sat beside his betrothed and gently took her hand. His look, the language of his gesture said everything about how deeply he cared for her. “I don't know, either, but we'll get to the bottom of it.”

“That's my job,” Faran said. “If I am the Company's man on the inside, I have to figure this out.”

“Agreed,” said Amelie, “I will tell Valois that you have found and returned the ring and that Ms. Haven's name is cleared. That is a good start.”

Faran stole a glance at Lexie, who sat with her long, thin fingers laced together in her lap. Her wrists were so slender, they looked like the bones of a songbird. The thought of someone threatening her brought a harsh ache to his chest. “Until we know what is going on, Lexie should leave Marcari.”

Lexie turned, her hazel eyes sharp. “Not so fast. I think I'd like to stay.”

Faran shook his head. “You're in the clear. There's nothing more you need to do here.”

Amelie shot him a quelling look. “A lady speaks for herself.”

He nearly choked on the need to object, but his job with the Company demanded obedience. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Amelie lifted her chin. “Where are your rooms, Ms. Haven?”

“They are in the adjoining wing, my lady.”

“And, of course, you are staying there also, as you are her husband,” Amelie said to Faran. Her eyebrows arched, as if daring him to argue. “I've heard about your virtual marriage of convenience. Chloe filled me in. I think it is quite a brilliant strategy.”

Lexie shot Faran a glance filled with alarm. The words
husband
and
marriage
sliced through Faran, like a blade so sharp one barely saw the cut. He cleared his throat. “I have rooms at the Company Headquarters.”

“Outside the city? That is too far, if you are here to keep watch over us,” Amelie said with a wave of her hand. “You must stay in the palace. I expect it, and Captain Valois expects you to be with your wife.”

Sleeping in the same suite of rooms as Lexie without sleeping
with
Lexie—that would be torture. “My lady, you're going to tell him she's innocent,” Faran reminded the princess.

But Amelie had her mind made up. “He is an old bloodhound and will have lingering doubts. Let us keep him calm and quiet. And this way, you will be there to watch over my prized wedding photographer. Use that protective instinct of yours. Whatever else is happening, I am still getting married, and I need her in one piece.”

The princess unhooked her necklace, strung her wedding ring over the chain and fastened it once more around her slim neck. “And doubling up is just as well, as every last room already has a guest. The palace is packed to overflowing.”

“Your Highness...” Lexie began in a reasonable tone.

Kyle cast a cautious look Lexie's way, and then to Faran. “You are, of course, free to refuse such an imposition. We will honor your choice without question.”

Which was nonsense, at least for Faran. He worked for the Company, and the Company worked for Amelie's father. He would have to have a monumental reason to do anything but comply. That was just business.

It was all up to Lexie, who was biting her lip in a most distracting fashion. He wanted to kiss her, but he wasn't sure he could stop with just a taste of her mouth. He was even less sure what he wanted her answer to be.

Some dangers had nothing to do with magic or bullets.

* * *

“Why did we agree to this again?” Lexie asked unhappily. She looked around in search of stray bras and other items too personal for comfort, and then snatched up a thong from the floor where one of Valois's men had scattered it during that morning's search.

They were standing in the front room of her tiny suite. It was little bigger than a hotel room, with a small sitting area, a bedroom and a cramped bathroom. A sash window overlooked the south side of the palace grounds. The decor looked like a royal rummage sale—old, substantial and mismatched. The photographic equipment she'd rescued from Valois's clutches was everywhere.

“We agreed because Amelie is a princess. She has that royal way of making everything she says sound utterly reasonable,” Faran answered, his voice flat with stress. He looked stranded in the middle of the floor, clearly unsure about settling in. “I'll leave if you change your mind.”

Lexie almost jumped on that, but squashed the impulse. They had a mystery to solve, and their best chance was to work together. Back in the princess's apartments, this seemed like the perfect solution. Now she wasn't so sure.

With a sigh, he sank onto the edge of the sofa. “I'll think of something to tell her. Do my best to stay out of the dungeon. Do you suppose they have an actual iron maiden?”

Lexie folded her arms, needing something to shield her vulnerable parts. “Somewhere in all that are you saying you don't mind sleeping here?”

He gave her a lopsided smile that looked as tired as she felt. “I don't know. Do you? What
are
we doing here? Am I the gentleman or the scoundrel in this script?” An awkward silence followed. Faran regarded her with a long-suffering air.

“We're solving a case,” Lexie said at last. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. “We need rules.”

“Oh?”

“I get the bedroom. You get this room. There's a door in between.”

Eyes unreadable, he waved an arm at the mess that stretched over the coffee table, couch and half the floor. “What room do your cameras get?”

She shrugged. “You're the photography assistant. Don't you want to get to know them up close and personal?”

His expression drew a line in the sand. “I think the tripods and I will get along just fine without sleeping together on the couch.”

“Right.”

He rose. “I need to get some clothes. I'll be back in a while. Lock the door.”

“I'll, um, clean up some of my stuff and make room.” She palmed her face. “I can't believe we're doing this.”

Faran smiled a little sadly. “This will be okay. Neither of us is an impulsive kid anymore.”

Lexie didn't buy that. In that moment, she might have been twelve, unsure and awkward. What did it matter if she photographed fashion models and princesses and slept in a palace? She was still faced with a werewolf sleeping on her sofa. One who looked impossibly gorgeous.

She wanted to kiss him—for starters. She had to be honest, at least with herself. When she'd agreed to Amelie's plan, her motives had been utterly fuddled.

Dusk was falling, and the room was unlit. Everything had soft edges, like a photo that had bleached with age. She never understood why twilight made everything seem quiet. Light had nothing to do with sound, and yet a hush fell over the room.

She could feel the warmth from Faran's body, a balm of heat against her weariness. “You realize that today I've been arrested, interrogated, in a car chase, had a royal audience and been unofficially married to my old boyfriend?”

“I love chasing cars,” Faran said mildly. “That part was fun.”

She looked down, chuckling even as she ached with exhaustion. “How did we end up here?”

He put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. He kissed her forehead gently, the lightest brush of his lips against her skin. “Like I said, we'll be okay. And now I have to go get my stuff.”

Okay wasn't good enough. The warmth, his gentleness, was too tempting and familiar. Lexie leaned forward, catching his mouth with hers. He flinched with surprise, but she clutched his lapels, not letting him back away.

He tasted just like she remembered, male and spicy and unique. She'd been starving for him ever since she'd seen him sitting on the garden wall. She ran her hands through his hair, feeling the rough thickness of it between her fingers, drawing him down for more.

His hands went to her waist, holding her as tenderly as if she was a bird. His mouth moved against hers, kissing her back, but it was guarded. The Faran she'd known had thrown himself into lovemaking the way other men jumped out of a plane—with a kind of determined recklessness. This wasn't the same.

She drew away, grateful and chagrined at once. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize,” he said. “I enjoyed that. But I don't know where it falls in with the rules.”

There was no rancor in his voice, just a caution that matched her own. “Consider it a time-out.”