Authors: Christy Gissendaner
Tags: #paranormal romance, #paranormal erotic romance, #erotic romance
She tossed her hair over one shoulder and glared at him. Despite her beauty, she was fierce in her annoyance, a warrior who fought for what she wanted. “Poor Micah, always so willing to play the victim.”
Her taunt made him see crimson. He jerked a handful of her lace corset and thrust his face next to hers. “You played the victim card better than I ever could. Poor Celeste. Losing the man you love to a non-shifter. It stings, doesn’t it? Knowing you weren’t good enough for him?”
The expensive foundation and powder she wore were no match for the flush of shame tinting her cheeks. “Fuck you, Micah Randolph.”
He grinned, but it lacked humor. “Been there, done that.”
She lifted her hand, but he caught her wrist before she landed the stinging slap on his cheek. As a warning, he tightened his grip just enough to feel the bones in her wrist. “Careful. You might hurt yourself.”
She tugged at her arm and cursed when she was unable to break free of his grasp. “You made your point. Let me go.”
God, it hurt to look at her and know he could never be good enough, too much of a fuckup to have perfection. He let go of her wrist and shoved away from her. “Time for you to leave.”
She stayed where she was, her legs spread as if Micah still stood between her thighs. The provocative position reminded him of tangled sheets and sex so hot it burned in his soul.
“Micah.” Her tone dropped an octave and turned seductive. “I need your help.”
Damn it all. Even her voice made him think of tangled sheets and sweaty limbs. “Find someone else.”
She stood. The six-inch stiletto heels she wore put them on eye level despite him being several inches over six feet. “You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“I don’t need to.” He pulled off his sweaty T-shirt and dug in his duffel bag for a clean one. “I’m not your man.”
Her gaze dropped to his chest. He would have to be blind to miss the spark of interest there, and he’d never missed any of Celeste’s expressions. She’d haunted his dreams since puberty. Too many nights he’d spent jacking off to the picture of her as a cheerleader in their high school yearbook. Too many afternoons seeing her flirt with his brother and knowing she’d never be his.
Celeste never backed down from a fight. She ignored his disinterest and forged ahead. “With Drake out of the picture, I’ve had to reevaluate my position within the Society.”
Micah shoved his arms through the sleeves of a faded black T-shirt and jerked it on. He pulled the hem down and waited for her to say more.
For the first time, she showed hesitation. Unable, or unwilling, to meet his eyes, she looked anywhere but at him. “I’m the last of my family. The pressure has been on me for years to marry well. I thought I’d found the perfect match with Drake, but I can’t ignore it anymore. I need to find a mate.”
The words ripped into him, flaying him with dreams of what could never be. He stuffed the old shirt into his bag and slipped the strap over one shoulder. “Congratulations to you and the lucky bastard, whoever he may be.”
She jerked her chin in his direction. Heat singed him from the flames in her expression. “Don’t be an ass. I need your help.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “If you think for one second, I’m going to play matchmaker for you, you’re…”
“I want you to be my mate.”
Her words forced him to a complete halt. “Come again?”
Her voice changed in pitch, low and consoling, wooing him with its seductive quality. “Think about it. We’re from the two most powerful families in the Society. It’s a perfect match.”
“Perfect for whom?” Irritation strengthened his tone. “Because I’m damn sure not sold on the idea.”
Celeste placed her hands on her slim hips and cocked one hip forward. “Max is an option, of course. He’s always had a soft spot for me. Maybe he’ll—”
He was in her face before the words left her mouth. “You’re not fucking mating with Max.”
“But—”
He held up a hand. “I refuse to let your ambition ruin my brother’s life. It’s not going to happen.”
She smiled as if she’d already suspected his reaction. “Then it has to be you.”
“If you think for one second that I’ll step in and be your replacement for Drake, you’re out of your mind.”
She flinched and took a step back. “I know how it looks.”
“Two months ago, you were dead set on marrying my brother. It wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew it. Hell, even Drake was almost convinced he’d marry you. But I’m not my brother, Celeste. I’m not going to mate with you simply because the Society deems it so.”
“The Society doesn’t know my plan.”
He bared his teeth and growled at her. “Good. It’s a stupid idea. So what? You come here dressed like a slut in the hopes I’d agree to your plan? Is that it, Celeste? Tits and ass are nice but not enough to sign my life away for.”
Celeste stepped toe to toe with him. Her elongated canines gleamed when she pulled her lips back to give an answering growl. “My tits and ass were enough to get you in bed once.”
“Things change.” He felt the shift coming over him. He reined in the impulse. There was too much risk to shift into wolf form. Too many witnesses. “People change.”
Celeste’s struggle to retain control was clear. Her enlarged pupils diminished as her canines slid back into her gums. “I’m twenty-eight years old, Micah. I wasted years on Drake. Years I can’t get back. I want a family.”
He wanted to be angry with her, but her honesty touched him. He shared her problem, wanting something he couldn’t have. “You can have a family. Doesn’t have to be with me.”
She lifted her head and pinned him with a hard look. “I’ve had the best of everything all my life. The Proctor name is known throughout the publishing world. My father created an empire from a single magazine. I need a partner, someone strong enough to handle the stress of being married to me.”
The business she’d inherited meant everything to Celeste. Since graduating college, she’d dedicated her life to making Proctor Publications the best it could be.
“I don’t know anything about managing assets like yours,” he admitted. He’d never needed to know. His brother had controlled his family’s interests after their parents’ deaths.
“I don’t require you to run the business. I just need a strong man at my side, a wolf that’ll protect me and my children. You can be that man, Micah. I know you can.”
He ruffled his hair with one hand and sighed. “You want children. With me?”
She held his gaze and nodded. “In the long run.”
“Do you even know what you’re asking?” He tossed his bag on the ground. The conversation was far from finished. “You want to marry me? A man you can’t stand?”
She bit her lip and eyed him. “The animosity wasn’t my fault.”
True enough. He’d been a stupid teenager when he’d realized that Celeste was only interested in Drake. The pain he’d felt had made him do and say stupid things, things he hadn’t meant. He’d been a dick to her and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt that she’d chosen another. His goddamned brother.
Of course it hurt. It still did. “So what you’re telling me is you want to marry a Randolph. You don’t care which one.”
She took a deep breath, and her breasts nearly spilled over the top of her corset. “I want to continue my family’s legacy. Proctors and Randolphs were the founding members of the Society. Think how powerful our children could be if we join our lines.”
And there it was. The reason he couldn’t be with her. “You may be OK with being a brood mare, Celeste, but I’m not a stud for hire. What do you think will happen? We’ll make the next alpha?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s a possibility. Who knows what sort of children Drake and Emma will have. No wolf has mated with the descendant of a mermaid before. What if there are no viable offspring? You and your children would be next in line.”
Micah trembled with the force of his anger. He held up a finger. “First off, I have no plans to steal the alpha title from my nieces or nephews. Secondly, even if there are no children, a fate I don’t want to consider, then I’m damned sure not pimping myself or my kids out for it. I’m not like you and Drake. The world doesn’t begin and end with the Society. If something happens to Drake before he has children, God forbid, I will do my duty, but you and I both know the Society would be far better off without me.”
She reached out a hand as if to touch him but pulled it back at the last second. “You’ve been in his shadow your entire life. It’s natural to shun the spotlight, but you’re the alpha’s brother, Micah. It may not mean much to you, but it means a hell of a lot to me.”
“Apparently so,” he said with a snort. “Enough to make you want to marry me. Tell me the real reason you’re here. Why did you show up unannounced in my dressing room, dressed like you are, and feed me this bullshit?”
“I already told you why I’m here.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not buying it. You came all the way to Atlanta when I was at the beach house a few weeks ago for July the Fourth. Why didn’t you ask me then?”
She nibbled her bottom lip again. “I hadn’t decided to ask yet.”
“Bullshit.” He pointed his finger at her. “There’s a reason for your timing. I want to know what pushed you into it. You owe me the truth.”
She shook her head. Her glorious hair slipped over her shoulders. “I owe you nothing. You’ve given your answer, so there’s really no need for me to tell you more, is there?”
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm before she took more than one step. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of that door before you answer me.”
She whipped her head around, and the heat in her gaze singed him. “Release me.”
Despite it all, he enjoyed sparring with her. No matter how heated their arguments became, she gave him joy he’d never experienced with another person. It was a living hell tinged with tiny spots of heaven. “Not going to happen.”
He expected her to fight back but not dirty. With a grunt, she lifted her foot and kicked him in the shin with her pointed shoe before stabbing the sharp heel into his toe.
“Holy shit, Celeste!” He didn’t let go of her even though his leg and foot ached. “Your idea of a proposal is seriously fucked up.”
“Micah Randolph, let go of me right this instant.”
He tugged her into his arms and clamped her elbows to her sides. “Not until you tell me.”
She grimaced. “It’s none of your business.”
“You come here. Lay down your moronic idea of us marrying. The hell it ain’t my business.”
Her scent went straight to his head. Her curves pressed to him, so damned right, it should be a sin.
Why couldn’t it be someone else?
His entire life he’d focused on this woman, the one person he could never have. Drake marrying Emma hadn’t changed a damned thing. Celeste was off-limits, at least for him. She was high maintenance, way too obsessed with her standing within the Society, and a raging workaholic.
They were worlds apart, and it was never more apparent than when he had her in his arms. He could smell her expensive shampoo, feel the fine leather of the pants she wore. Even in slutty attire, it was easy to see her outfit cost more than most people made in a month. He didn’t even want to know what she’d paid for her shoes. Her addiction to shopping was well documented in the gossip rags.
The fight left Celeste, and she put her head on his shoulder. “I just need help. Can’t that be enough for now?”
Damn him, but her dejected tone filled him with guilt. He loosened his grip and rubbed his hands up and down her back. “Why the clothes? Cheapening yourself for me isn’t a point in your favor.”
Her voice came out garbled against his shirt. “I wanted to fit in. I’ve seen your fans. No one comes to a Micah and Max show in a business suit.”
“You watched the concert?” Would it have mattered if he knew she was in the audience? Would it have changed how he acted?
“Most of it. I got in a little bit late.” She lifted her head and pinned him with a solemn look. “The show was awesome. You did great. Max too. But when you’re on stage, you light up. It was hard to take my eyes off you.”
It was the closest she’d ever come to giving him a compliment. “Not quite the loser you always imagined me to be, huh?”
Her expression tensed. “I never thought you were a loser.”
“A kid who ditched school more often than not and got wasted behind the gymnasium? Yeah, you thought I was a loser.”
“Not a loser.” Her gaze held his. “Just lost.”
No doubt about it, he’d been a troublemaker in high school and his first couple years of college, but that had been before his parents’ deaths. He hadn’t become a model citizen, but he’d cleaned up his act, mostly to keep Drake’s stress level at a minimum. His brother had stepped into the role of a substitute parent despite only being two years older. The least Micah had been able to do was stop getting in trouble constantly.
Celeste lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped out a slow rhythm on his shirt. “I know Drake and Emma are in town. Go to dinner. Think about what I’ve said. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She stepped out of his arms, but he stopped her. “Wait.” He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. “Have you eaten?”
She frowned and shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Come to dinner with us.”
She gave him a reluctant smile. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Emma is still getting used to me being in Drake’s life.”
“Come to dinner. As my guest.”
He could tell she was tempted. Despite what had happened with Drake, Celeste was close to their family. Drake’s beta, as a matter of fact. It had been awkward for all of them when Drake had chosen Emma, but there was no need to shut Celeste out.
She plucked at the corset’s hem. “I really shouldn’t. I’m not dressed.”
Oh, she was dressed all right. Had it been anyone but Celeste wearing that getup in his dressing room, he’d be a happy man. “We’re just grabbing a bite at the café inside the hotel. You look fine.”
Fine was an understatement. She looked sexy as hell, a complete one-eighty from her normal attire. She’d surprised him, something few people ever managed to do.