Undone (The Amoveo Legend) (8 page)

“In your dreams,” she said turning back to the fire, pretending not to be ridiculously turned on by the sight of him.

“Actually, wouldn’t the correct term be in
our
dreams?”

Marianna stilled, but didn’t look at him. As the door to the bathroom clicked shut, she knew he was right. They hadn’t uttered a word about it, but it was clear they knew they were mates and succumbing was only a matter of time.

***

After both of them had napped—Pete on the couch, and Marianna in the bedroom—it was midafternoon by the time they headed into town. He turned the dilapidated, blue pickup truck onto Main Street, and Marianna thought they’d stepped back in time. The quaint village street was lined with an array of shops and restaurants, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think they’d time traveled back to 1965. She’d never been to a small town like this and didn’t believe that hamlets like this one existed.

Smiling, she hopped from the pickup and zipped her jacket closed against the bitter wind. She glanced up to find Pete standing on the sidewalk staring at her.

“What are you grinning at?” she asked as she pulled the knit cap over her ears.

“You.” He slipped the keys into the pocket of his jacket. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“I do not.” Marianna tried not to smile again. Jeez. Why could he get her to smile at the drop of a hat?

“Whatever you say,” he said, placating her as he looked at the gray, cloudy sky. “We better hurry up. There’s another storm coming, and it would definitely be better if we’re settled at the cabin before it hits.”

Marianna joined him on the sidewalk. “I thought the old girl,” she said as she nodded toward the banged up truck, “could handle anything.”

“Oh
she
can.” Pete flicked his pale blue eyes to her. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Oh really?” Marianna closed the few feet between them and leveled a challenging gaze at him.

Pete raised his hands in defeat. “I’m just saying that you are not exactly an outdoor gal, and I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Trudging through a snowstorm in the Adirondacks is an experience you can live without.” His features darkened, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Trust me.”

Marianna narrowed her eyes and studied him carefully. She may not have been able to read his energy signature, but it was clear that he’d had a less than pleasant experience. She was about to pepper him with questions when he brushed past her.

“Come on.” He started down the sidewalk. “We’ll hit the General Store first for groceries, and then I have to swing into the Towne Store for a few supplies.”

As Marianna stepped into the General Store, her senses were assaulted by the stomach-rumbling aroma of freshly baked brownies. She hadn’t eaten anything since that bagel, and a brownie could hit the spot. The little bell over the door jingled happily, announcing their presence, causing the woman behind the counter to look up from her magazine and smile politely, but when she saw Pete her smile widened.

The cashier twirled her pale blond hair around one finger, and her face flushed, as she looked sideways at Pete. Marianna didn’t miss it, but Pete seemed oblivious, and even though she couldn’t blame the woman for staring, that didn’t keep part of her from feeling territorial. Pete was gorgeous, and she knew women would desire him, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Hi Mindy.” Pete gave her a friendly wave, grabbed two baskets, and handed one to her. “Get whatever you want. I have a house account here, so have at it.”

He didn’t let go of the handle as one strong finger brushed over the top of her hand. That whisper of a touch whooshed down to her toes, and her furry boots felt nailed to the worn wood floor.

He lowered his voice. “We’ll probably be here for a few weeks, so stock up. There’s a bigger storm coming in a couple days, after the one tonight, and if it’s as they say, we could be cabin-bound for quite a while.”

Marianna said nothing. She simply nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. All she could think about was being in that tiny cabin with Pete… alone.

He walked down one of the narrow, overstuffed aisles, and she caught sight of that fine backside. How is it that a well-fitting pair of Levi’s can make a man’s ass look perfect? Her mind went to the sight of him this morning when he emerged from the bedroom without a shirt. Drool.

“Can I help you find something?” the woman at the counter snipped.

“No,” she replied too quickly. Marianna’s face heated with embarrassment because she knew she just got caught ogling his ass. Pete smirked and disappeared around the end of the aisle. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“It’s okay.” The cashier waved her over to the counter with a conspiratorial whisper. “Everyone gives him the once-over. Hell, the girls down at Flannagan’s bar are gonna bust something when they hear he’s back in town. He’s the finest lookin’ man that has ever set foot through that door.” She stuck her hand out and gave Marianna a friendly smile. “I’m Mindy.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Marianna… Pete’s… friend.”

She felt like an idiot fumbling around for the right word, but what was she supposed to say? I’m his kidnapping victim? I’m his mate? Not likely. Friend would have to do for now.

“Friend?” She popped a stick of gum in her mouth with sparkle-painted fingernails and kept her voice down. “Honey, if I were you, I’d be a lot more than his friend. If I weren’t already married, of course,” Mindy added quickly. “A gorgeous thing like you looks like the right match for that handsome man. Brittany—she waits tables at Flannagan’s bar—she’s been trying to land him ever since they were kids.”

Mindy sighed and peered past Marianna to make sure Pete wasn’t within earshot; although the store wasn’t that big, so it wouldn’t surprise her if he was listening to the conversation.

“I see.” Marianna looked at the jars of jam on the counter, pretending not to be interested, but making a mental note to keep an eye out for this Brittany.

“Oh yeah.” She cracked her gum and whispered, “He used to come here every summer with his grandparents and his mama.”

“What about his father?” Marianna hit the jackpot with Mindy, who as fate would have it, seemed to be the town crier, and she had no qualms about divulging personal information in the middle of the store.

“Nobody ever met him.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “From what I hear, his old man split when he was just a baby. Just heartbreaking.”

“That’s too bad.” Marianna meant it too.

Heartbreak could mend, but it left a nasty scar.

“What’s too bad?” Pete’s voice cut into their conversation.

“This jam,” Marianna blurted out.

“The jam is bad?” He looked at her like she’d lost her marbles.

“No.” She glanced at Mindy, who was doing her best not to laugh. “It’s too bad that they don’t sell this jam in the city. The packaging is adorable, and I bet it would sell like hotcakes in one of those little gourmet shops.” Great. Now she was babbling about jam.

“Well, stock up then.” He winked at Mindy and placed two baskets of food on the counter. “I’m going to make one more pass around the store, and then we’ll head to the Towne Store for fishing tackle.”

“Fishing?” Marianna replied incredulously as he walked away and scooped up another basket. “It’s the dead of winter. I’m not going fishing.”

“Yes, you are,” he shouted from the back of the store.

“Honey.” Mindy gave her arm a friendly pat. “Go fishing. If you’re lucky, you’ll catch more than fish.”

***

They made quick work of their shopping and filled the truck with their purchases. Unfortunately, Pete wasn’t kidding about the fishing gear, but he was crazy if he thought she was going fishing in the frigid cold. She’d heard humans complain about the cold and always thought they were a bunch of whiners—not so much now. Every time they went outside, she felt the cold in her bones, and it was not a sensation she wanted to stay familiar with.

She stared at the passing scenery as the truck bounced along the country road. Marianna wiped absently at the fogged up window as her thoughts went to Dante and her mother. She couldn’t recall ever going one day without touching her mind to theirs, and she caught herself trying to do it again—but still nothing. It had been barely a full day since the powder had taken effect, but it felt more like years.

“How do you do it?” she mused quietly.

“Do what?” Pete gave her a questioning glance and turned into the driveway as snow started falling again.

She was quiet for a few moments, trying to choose the right words. “Live in such… isolation?”

“You mean here in the mountains?” He pulled up in front of the cabin, threw the truck into park, and leaned back in the well-worn bench seat. “I don’t live here year-round. It’s a getaway spot.”

“No.” She shook her head and captured his gaze. “Not the cabin. I don’t mean physically isolated.” Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper, and she closed her eyes, struggling to explain how she was feeling. “I’m talking about the emotional and mental isolation of being human, the inability to connect with another person’s mind, to read their energy and to know exactly how they’re feeling.”

“Marianna?” Pete’s warm hand cradled her cheek and brushed away one tear with his thumb, creating breathtaking friction. “Look at me please.”

She sucked in a deep breath and opened her teary eyes to find that the tenderness in his touch was matched by the look on his face.

“I’m sorry.” He gently wiped away another tear. “Do you really need your Amoveo abilities to know how much it’s killing me to see you hurting? And because of something I did?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “But it’s nothing compared to how I’d feel if those Purist assholes got their hands on you. They won’t touch you, Marianna. You have to trust me.”

His eyes searched hers for something. Trust? Forgiveness? Love? The truth was that she simply didn’t know. She couldn’t sense his energy, but she could most definitely feel his touch, and it was enthralling.

Pete’s fingertips brushed the side of her neck as he held her face in his hand. She slipped her glove off and placed her hand over his, pressing it against her cheek, needing to connect with him—to feel another person—to feel
something
.

The sound of their breathing and the hum of the engine surrounded them in the cab of the old truck. As the snow fell silently outside, the rest of the world fell away, and it seemed that it was just them… alone… in the quiet of the falling snow.

Her gaze wandered over the sharp angles of his face, the high cheekbones and square jaw that looked like they’d been made by the gods. His most striking feature, those piercing blue eyes, reminded her of ice. Cool. Sharp. Steal-your-breath intense. And right now, they were locked on her.

His mouth was on hers in a whisper or a curse—she wasn’t sure which—she didn’t care. She groaned and opened, welcoming him. He tasted like sin and sex. Marianna broke the kiss, pushed him back with both hands, and straddled him in one swift move. She fit perfectly between Pete and the wheel.

His look of surprise shifted to that deliciously cocky grin as she settled on his lap and kissed him again. His hands slipped beneath her jacket and sweater, and she sighed against his lips as flesh met flesh. She’d never appreciated or needed the touch of a man more than she did at this moment—especially this man.

She held his head and kissed him as her greedy hands found their way inside his jacket and under his shirt. Marianna groaned as she ran her fingers along the washboard abs and reveled in the smooth, warm skin beneath her fingertips.

She couldn’t get close enough or connect enough—she needed more.

Pete’s hands rested on her waist, and his fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her against his growing erection. She licked and nibbled at his lips as she writhed seductively in his lap, seeking relief from the storm of lust building inside.

One strong hand wrapped around the side of her neck, and Marianna tilted her head, giving those talented lips access to the sensitive skin along her throat. She arched back further, and when her eyes fluttered open, she caught sight of sudden movement outside.

Marianna let out a shriek of surprise as a dog barked and launched itself against the driver’s side window. Pete cursed, and in one smooth, cop-ninja move, had her off his lap and shoved protectively into the passenger seat behind him.

Breathing heavily, Marianna stared openmouthed at the goofy dog bouncing up and down at the door like it had found a bag of milk bones.

With Pete’s taste fresh on her tongue, Marianna clutched her jacket closed and looked from the dog to Pete, who gave her a sheepish grin.

He shut off the engine and shook his head. “Jesus, Tramp.” Pete laughed and leaned on the headrest. “You have some shitty timing.”

Pete squatted next to the truck and gave the overzealous dog a good scratch behind the ears as the animal licked his face with exuberance.

“Where the hell did that dog come from?” Marianna asked as she got out of the truck. She walked around and eyed the animal warily. “He appeared out of nowhere.”

“He’s a stray, I think,” Pete said as he stood. “Marianna, I’d like you to meet Tramp.” The blue-eyed husky sat at Pete’s feet and stared at Marianna, but didn’t make a move to go near her. “At least that’s what I call him. He showed up a few summers ago and comes by every time I’m here.”

“Hi, Tramp.” Marianna reached out tentatively, and to Pete’s delight, the dog yipped and went right to her.

Smiling, she knelt in the snow and gave the husky scratches behind his gray and white ears. Her smile might have been the best sight Pete had ever laid eyes on. It lit up her face when she laughed as Tramp licked her. He grinned at the sound because he hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time.

“He’s adorable and looks well cared for, especially for a stray.” She stroked his large body. “Are you sure he doesn’t have a home around here?”

“Not that I know of. Although he could, I guess. The next closest cabin is a ways off. My cabin sits on about twenty acres.” Pete gathered packages from the car. “Tramp shows up and hangs out for a few days and then leaves when he’s had enough.” Pete shrugged one shoulder. “It reminds me of that dog from the Disney movie,
Lady
and
the
Tramp
. Hence the name.”

***

The sun set as Pete put the last of his fishing tackle in the shed out back, but the snow continued to fall. He took stock of his gun and ammunition supply as well. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, but knowing it was there made him feel better.

Tramp bounded happily through the snow as they headed back to the cabin, and when they got to the back porch, the dog shook off the snow as Pete kicked off his boots. His grandmother always hated it when they tracked mud or snow into the cabin, and even though she wasn’t here to give him an earful, he made sure to follow her rules.

Pete grabbed an old towel from the trunk on the porch and wiped Tramp’s paws off. The dog stood still and let him clean his feet, which always surprised Pete. Maybe Marianna was right. Maybe old Tramp had a family somewhere on the mountain and used the cabin as a vacation spot as much as Pete did.

When he opened the back door to the cabin, he was hit with the unexpected aroma of something delicious cooking. The only thing more surprising was seeing Marianna standing at the stove stirring food in the cast-iron skillet he’d almost cracked his head open with earlier. Her long wavy hair was tied in a ponytail, and even wearing a simple sweater and jeans, she was the sexiest creature he’d ever seen in his life.

Even more striking to Pete was how right it felt to have her here at the cabin. He’d never brought a woman here until today because he’d never met anyone who’d meant enough. He’d dated and slept with plenty of women, but never for more than a few months. Eventually, the when-are-we-taking-this-to-the-next-level conversation would come up, and that’s when things would end.

Pete always made it clear that he wasn’t interested in anything serious, and until now, he meant it. He watched as she moved around the small space with odd familiarity. It was as though she’d done it a thousand times, and that was unsettling. She fit. She fit with him, this cabin… his life.

When did it happen? When did she slip seamlessly into his life and his heart?

“You’re letting the cold air in,” she said without turning around.

“Oh, sorry.” Pete shook his head and shut the door. How long had he been standing there staring? “I didn’t think I was outside that long.” He leaned on the small island and took a deep breath. “It smells great in here.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I was famished, and based on your comment about your cooking skills, I figured that we might starve to death if you tried to cook.”

“A solid assumption.” Tramp trotted into the kitchen and lay at Marianna’s feet. “Looks like you have a fan.”

“It’s not me he’s a fan of.” She tossed Tramp a piece of chicken. “It’s the food.” Marianna smiled and glanced down at Tramp. “But I’m a fan of his either way.”

“Oh yeah?” Pete grabbed a beer out of the fridge, closed the door, and leaned against it while he continued to watch her. “Why is that?”

“I like dogs,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe having an animal in the house makes me feel at home?” She shut off the burner, turned to face him, and leaned one hip against the counter. “Does that sound kind of nuts?”

“No,” Pete replied. “It sounds kind of right.”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and her brown eyes widened as his skin brushed over hers. Her breathing quickened, and she nibbled nervously on her lower lip as he trailed the back of his fingers along her cheek. She seemed vulnerable and unsure of herself, but for the life of him, Pete couldn’t figure out why.

She may not have her Amoveo abilities, but she was still beautiful, smart, and sexy. He wanted to kiss her again—hell, he wanted to do a lot more than kiss her—but Tramp barked and jumped between them before he had a chance. Pete dropped his hand and laughed as Tramp nuzzled Marianna.

Cockblocked by the dog.

Pete smirked and shook his head. “You really need to work on your timing, buddy.”

“Don’t be mad at poor Tramp. He’s hungry.” Marianna gave Pete a scolding look and scratched the dog’s ears lovingly. “We should eat before it gets cold.” Marianna gently pushed Tramp down and grabbed some dishes from the cabinet.

“Right,” Pete said as he took the plates and place mats from her. “Wouldn’t want the food to get cold, would we, Tramp?” Pete gave the dog a look of disapproval when Marianna’s back was turned, but he could swear that animal was laughing. Tramp barked in total agreement.

Marianna offered a bowl of rice and cooked chicken to Tramp before joining Pete at the table. They ate mostly in silence, and he knew it was because neither knew where to begin. How do you start the I-guess-we’re-mates conversation anyway? He still wasn’t sure whether she sympathized with the Purists. What if she did? What if she couldn’t really love him?

Since he had no damned idea, he let the conversations about the weather, Tramp, and the food dominate. The tough conversation would come eventually for better or for worse, and at the moment he was simply enjoying her.

***

Pete couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal that good, but it had to have been cooked by his grandmother. He threw his napkin on the table and sat back in his chair as he resisted the urge to unbutton his jeans.

“Enjoyed it?” Marianna laughed and took a sip of her beer as she looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re dying to unbutton your jeans, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Pete rubbed his belly and laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

“I have a brother, remember?” She rested her chin on folded hands and kept those big brown eyes locked on him as the smile vanished. “And, no, you aren’t transparent at all. But I guess you never really were, were you? Even when I had my Amoveo abilities and could read energy signatures, you managed to keep things from me until just before the infamous binding powder incident.”

“I think it’s time for that conversation we’ve been avoiding.” Pete’s jaw clenched, and he saw the tension settle in her shoulders.

Weariness crept over her features, and Pete scolded himself for being so dense. The woman had been through the ringer, and even after everything that had transpired, she had made him dinner. What a dope. The least he could do is let her take a breather before he started a difficult conversation.

“But first,” he said, pushing himself away from the table. “I’m going to clean up, and you’re going to take a shower and relax.”

A smile crept back to her lips. “You’re going to clean up?”

“Yes,” Pete said as he started gathering the dirty dishes. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She leaned back and watched him through serious eyes. “My father wasn’t big for helping around the house and was always happy to let my mother do it. Dante’s like you though. I watch how solicitous he is with Kerry, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how he got that way.” She let out a harsh laugh. “He sure didn’t learn it from our father.”

“Maybe he gets it from your mom?” Pete washed the dishes in the sink and set them in the drying rack.

“Probably.” She smiled faintly as she spoke of her mother. “My mother is thoughtful, kind, and generous. I often wondered how and why the universe paired the two of them up. I loved my father, but he was a difficult man, and it was his way or the highway. Daddy was a big fan of everyone fitting into their proper role.”

“What roles?” Pete shut off the water and wiped the counters while hanging on every word she uttered.

“Mother is the caretaker. Dante is the good son—well, at least until he found Kerry—I assume that Dante told you my father was a Purist?”

“Yes.” Pete dried the pots off with a towel. “Dante mentioned it, but he’s never discussed it with me at length. That seems like a bit of a sore subject.”

“Oh, it’s sore as hell. My father tried to kill Samantha—Malcolm’s mate, who is also a hybrid—so you can imagine how absolutely irate he would’ve been to find out his own son was mating with one. And me?” Bitterness edged her words. “Well, I was the sweet little daughter who thought the sun rose and set on her father and that he could do no wrong. My job was to look pretty, find my Amoveo mate, and make him pure-blood grandchildren. Like Daddy always said, we all have a role to play. Imagine how disheartened he’d be with the latest developments.”

Silence hung heavily in the air as he waited for her to continue. Her sadness at disappointing her father stabbed at Pete like a knife. Even though they hadn’t said it, they both knew that she didn’t have an Amoveo mate, and there wouldn’t be any pure-blood Amoveo coming from her… or him.

He glanced over his shoulder, and his throat tightened at the look of sadness on her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she responded without looking at him. Marianna got up and went toward the bedroom with Tramp at her heels. “I’m going to take your advice and grab a shower, but then I’m going to bed. I know we have to talk, but I’m just too tired tonight.” She turned to face him, and that stone-cold resolute look he saw last night was back. “We never did discuss the sleeping arrangements.”

“I’ll take the couch… for tonight,” he said with a wink.

“Yes. You will.” Her dark eyes glittered with determination, and it was clear that the battle of wills was back. “We can talk about this mate business tomorrow. You didn’t sign up for this mess, and I don’t expect you to get wrapped up any further than you already have.”

Before he could respond, Marianna disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door. Wrapped up any further? Hell, he was already gone.

***

“Let’s go, Marianna,” Pete said impatiently. “Tramp and I were up this morning long before you were, and we’re ready to get out there and do some ice fishing. It’s noon already.”

She’d taken her sweet time getting up and dressed. He knew it was one enormous stall tactic to keep from going fishing, but there was no way he was letting her get out of this. He really wasn’t doing it to bust her chops, but because he wanted to share it. He doubted that the Amoveo spent a lot of time ice fishing, and he figured it was a human experience that he could show her.

“I can’t believe you’re making me go fishing in the freezing cold,” Marianna grumbled as she pulled on a second sweater, coat, hat, and gloves. “We have a perfectly nice cabin to stay warm and toasty in.”

“Maybe.” He tugged her knit hat over her ears. “But it’ll feel even warmer after we come in from our little excursion.”

Marianna and Tramp followed him down to the lake through the layer of fresh snow, but something caught the dog’s eye, and he raced into the woods to chase it.

“Where’s he going?” Marianna wondered.

“Beats the hell out of me.” Pete shrugged and handed her one of the fishing poles. “Like I said, he comes and goes as he pleases.”

When they reached the edge of the lake, Marianna stopped dead in her tracks and watched Pete warily as he walked onto the ice.

“Where the hell are you going?” She looked at the ice-covered lake with trepidation and tried to keep her teeth from chattering. “You can’t walk on that. You’re going to fall in.”

“No, I’m not.” Pete walked over and extended his hand. “And neither are you. Come on. The area we’re walking on is totally safe. This ice is several inches thick and has been frozen like this for weeks already.”

Marianna took his hand and gingerly stepped onto the ice. She kept a death grip on him all the way to the tent situated twenty yards from the edge. Pete unzipped the black tent door and let Marianna in first.

He zipped it closed behind them and smiled as he watched her survey the small space. Shivering, she sat on one of the stools and glanced at the hole in the ice. “I don’t see any fish.”

“Well, they don’t exactly jump up and into the tent.” Pete sat on the other stool and made quick work of baiting the hook on her pole. “Here you go. That’s a jigger pole, so what you do is drop the line and yank from time to time—you jigger it.” He took it and demonstrated. “See, it’s easy.”

Marianna took the fishing rod while he baited the hook on his. He dropped his line into the hole in front of his seat and jiggered in silence.

“This is quite the setup out here,” she said, while she popped the line up and down a few more times. “Did you put this all up this morning?”

“Nope. A local guy sets it up, maintains it, and breaks it down every year.” Pete reached over, unzipped one of the tent windows, and peered outside. “I just had to come out and break the ice in the fishing wells.”

“It’s actually kind of warm in here, and I’ve stopped shivering incessantly.” She yanked the pole and made a face that made Pete want to bust out laughing, but he didn’t. Somehow, he figured that would get him a fishing rod to the face. “Maybe it’s just the absence of the biting wind.”