Dawn Endeavor 3: Julian's Jeopardy (12 page)

Not sure what she hoped to accomplish, Jules didn't plan to let her go before he knew the truth. He shoved his hand down her front, past the soft plane of her belly, to the vee between her legs.

Her denial turned into a moan. “God, what are you doing to me?” she rasped while unconsciously arching into his touch.

He slid his hand beneath her panties and shoved a finger inside her, wanting nothing more than to rip their clothes away and fuck her where she stood. She was so damned wet. Instead, he withdrew his finger and brought it slowly to his mouth.

“Wh-what are you—”

Her glazed eyes blinked, and her nostrils flared with heat—with arousal—as he sucked her juices from his finger.

Sheridan. No doubt about it now. He knew that scent, and his beast knew that taste better than he knew his own name. She'd come to find him, finally. But why had she waited so long? Hell, why help him in the first place? It hadn't escaped his suspicion that Montaña might have staged his whole rescue for some perverted purpose. To get closer to the rest of the team, perhaps. But Sheridan seemed so innocent underneath the sexy veneer.

Jules wished he could trust his instincts, but his beast was so drugged on the woman's taste he wanted nothing more than to roll over and show her his belly.

Talk about taming the beast.

His reaction to her made everything suspect. She was sexy as hell, beautiful, kind—from what he remembered—and apparently she healed with a touch. Too damned good to be true.
But she’s ours
, his beast whined when Jules took a shaky step back. Not sure what to believe, he forced himself to rein in his desire before he forgot everything and fucked her until he sated this unreasonable lust.

The woman was dangerous, a piece of the puzzle from his time spent with Montaña—the enemy. He couldn't trust her or himself when around her.

She drew in a deep breath and shuddered.

He silently cursed. She smelled so damned good.

“Wh-why did you do that?”

“Why are you so wet?”

The bright flush on her face only made her look that much more attractive.

“I'm not.” She paused before continuing so bald-faced a lie. “I don't know. It's probably you,” she said in a nasty voice that delighted him. She'd seemed so shy before. “I'm no doubt allergic to being pawed.” He grinned, feeling happy for no reason at all. His beast wanted to sniff her, to mark her. “Why are you here, Sheridan?”

“I…I wanted to see you again. To see if you were all right.” She glanced away, and the guilt on her face stole some of his joy.

“Really?”

“Um, well, yes. When you left, you weren't well.”

“I don't remember much.” He watched for her reaction. The pain on her face wasn't feigned.

“I know. You were so brave.” Her eyes looked glassy. Shit, she wasn't going to cry, was she? Sudden discomfort disturbed him. He hated female tears, and hers were making him feel terrible. His beast roared at the thought of wounding his mate.

Mate? I don’t even know this woman
! Panicked at the thought of having what he'd wanted for so long, only to find she wasn't who she said she was, Jules took another step back. Time for a hasty break, to figure out what the hell to do about this woman who tied him in knots.

She frowned at him and reached out a hand. “Jules?” Her fingers grazed his chest, and he swore he felt a bolt of heat where they made contact. Apparently she felt it as well, for she blushed and pulled her hand away as if burned.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” She blinked and bit her lower lip.

He stifled a groan, wanting nothing more than to lick the sting away. Fuck, he had to get out of here. The woman was hell on his control when he needed it most.

Especially with his beast clawing at him to take what he knew to be his.

“We'll talk more tomorrow. I have a lot of questions.”

“All right.” Her soft answer sounded too submissive for his peace of mind.

Images of holding her down as he took her, of demanding she swallow all of him, made him ache like a son of a bitch.

He turned and left before he could put his hands or, God forbid, his mouth on her again. He argued with himself as he left the mansion and went outside into the night, where he
changed
and ran to dull his frustration, anger, and confusion.
She’s
mine. Ours. Go back
. His beast clamored to take complete charge, but Jules couldn't afford that. Not if Sheridan was a threat to his team. He needed time to figure out what her presence here really meant. A heaven-sent boon to soothe the lonely ache deep inside himself? Or a clever plot to ensnare his team in more danger?

He ran as if the hounds of hell nipped at his heels. But his beast kept forcing him to glance back, to keep some part of the house in sight. Where
she
waited…

Sheridan leaned back against the door and tried to calm her racing heart.

She'd been so close to losing it. So close to latching on to the man and never letting go. What was wrong with her? She'd promised herself she'd seek the truth, not the man's tonsils!

Oh, who was she kidding? With a man like Jules, the only way to keep him at arm's length would be avoidance. God knew she had no willpower when it came to him. For some odd reason, their energies meshed really, really well. “I am
so
out of my league.” A round little plain Jane compared to an Adonis with muscles on top of muscles. Yet he remembered her. She thrilled to know she'd made such an impression, even if it might eventually threaten her safety. Because if Raul had the right of it, nothing would stop Jules from doing whatever he wanted to her.

But could she really reconcile that image with the wary male who'd kissed the breath out of her? Heck, if he'd wanted, Jules could have taken her right then, but instead he'd walked away. Not exactly the move of a ruthless playboy and killing machine.

No, the more she thought about Raul, the more she came to distrust what he'd said. Jules was a warrior, but a killer? A ruthless gun for hire? She couldn't believe it.
No, I don’t want to believe it, not of the man who did everything he could to save
me and nearly died in the process. Not the man who touched me with such possessive
tenderness
. Perhaps her fascination with Jules had to do with his being Circ. The scientist within her relied on logic when all else fell short, and she compared him, once again, to the only other Circs she'd known.

She'd spent the last two months with Grayson and Raul. She'd seen them interact with each other, had seen their beasts. But they didn't make her want. All the Circs here at the Circ compound had an unusual beauty. The women were gorgeous, the men sexy, and all of them were wild, earthy. Yet only Jules made her so wet, she could barely think past the need to hold him inside her once more.

Her clit ached, needing to be stroked. Sheridan had never been an overly sexual creature. Two seconds in his presence, and she wanted to drop everything, spread her legs wide, and surrender.

Tired, cranky, and out of sorts, she double-checked the lock on her door. She then moved toward the bathroom, intent on a shower, when a loud bang on the door scared the crap out of her.

“Yo, Sheridan. I have your stuff.” Tersch called from the hallway.

“Oh, sorry. Hold on.” She took a few deep, cleansing breaths and straightened her appearance, hoping she looked calm and not like a woman who'd nearly climaxed from a kiss and a touch. In control again, she unlocked and opened the door. She stepped aside for Tersch to enter.

He had a brawn one couldn't help but notice, and she wondered how much was from the gym and how much from his Circ genetics. The shoulder-length blond hair did nothing to make him girlie and only enhanced the masculine strength abundant in his frame. He had the high cheekbones and coloring of Nordic ancestors, and those piercing blue eyes of his seemed to miss nothing.

He placed her lone suitcase on the floor, and she stood back, expecting him to leave.

Instead, he stepped closer, leaned down, and sniffed.

She froze.

“Nice perfume you're wearing. Smells like vanilla.” He straightened and watched her with interest.

Vanilla.
Jules
. Aware of the flush that heated her cheeks, she stammered, “I-I'm not wearing perfume. Must be my, um, soap.” Tersch smiled. “Smells good.” He paused. “Seen Jules?” He glanced beyond her to the door that led to her bathroom.

Embarrassed he thought Jules might be in a locked room with her, she said in a rush, “He left before you came. I don't know where he went.” Tersch's smile faded as he considered her. “Okay. You need anything, you can dial zero-two on the phone to get Ava, but I wouldn't recommend calling her unless you have a cup of coffee in hand to tame the little witch.” Tersch paused, and in his eyes she saw the hint of his beast looking out at her. Seeing his animal scared her more than she wanted to admit, because she sensed an out-of-control wildness to him that the others didn't possess.

Tersch's face cleared of all expression, and he took several steps back. “Let Ava know if you need anything,” he muttered and left in a rush.

Sheridan shut and locked the door. Too tired to think about anything else, she stripped out of her clothes and shoes. As she bypassed the mirror in the bathroom, she paused at what she saw. She'd lost a bit of weight while hiding in the jungle from Ricardo and his men. But for all the stress she'd been under, she was still round.

Olivia had height and a slenderness Sheridan wished she'd been born with.

Ava looked like any man's idea of the perfect woman. And Sheridan, what did she have? Big boobs, a tiny waist—her only saving grace—a round butt, and nothing firm about her but her thighs, and that came about from a lot of jogging, which she'd found helped alleviate her stress. Sheridan, unfortunately, had been born athletic but without the benefit of an athlete's body.

Jules had seemed to like her well enough when she was softer, less toned, a scientist too busy to exercise daily. But had he been attracted to her because she was available, the only woman around? She frowned. Not if his reaction to her today was anything to go by. Then again, maybe he was a lot more intelligent than she'd given him credit for. He knew she responded to him. Perhaps by showing interest, he hoped to stir her into a false sense of trust.

According to Raul, Jules had his share of conquests. He thought nothing of using and discarding women the way he did fast cars, expensive toys, and illegal arms. A sudden thought made her frown. Grayson had never agreed with Raul. Nor had he disagreed. He'd simply looked at Sheridan as if urging her to make up her own mind.

Though the two Circs had stayed by her side those first few weeks in the jungle, hiding her from Ricardo's men while she healed them from the odd mutations in their blood, they hadn't seemed very friendly with each another.

Between the two, she definitely favored Grayson. Raul made her uncomfortable.

The way he'd looked at her and talked to her… She'd wondered what he might have done to her had Grayson not been present.

She shivered as a cool breeze teased her spine and realized that though the roman blinds had been pulled, the window had been left open a crack. At least the wind distracted her from her thoughts, and she focused on the thought of getting clean.

Needing to recharge, Sheridan dug through her suitcase. After removing a few things, she took a much-needed shower.

After washing, rinsing, and drying off, she wandered back into the bedroom, dressed in a thin nightgown, and slid between the sheets. She fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

Dressed in a conservative pair of slacks, a silk T-shirt, and sandals, Sheridan felt less than professional as she joined Mrs. Sharpe for breakfast in the kitchen the next morning. They sat at an expansive oak table, just the two of them, while Melissa worked at one of the counters.

None of the other Circs had arrived, for which Sheridan was profoundly grateful. Luck shone down on her, finally. Now she just had to get her head together and figure out what to believe. Jules as a good guy, or Jules as the enemy?

Sheridan worked to keep her smile in place as Mrs. Sharpe tried to make her feel welcome.

“I can't tell you how nice it is to finally have a medical expert on staff.” Alicia sighed. “We've been without for months. Doc, the resident Circ expert, comes down when he can, but he has his hands full with the team up North. Now that they're having babies left and right, it's imperative he stay close.”

“Makes sense.”
Circ babies
? A fascinating prospect she wouldn't have minded studying if she didn't have more pressing matters to attend. And wasn't Mrs.

Sharpe quite the chatterbox? So trusting, when they'd only just met. Then again, she gave Sheridan the same vibe Olivia had. Everyone around this place felt a bit

“more” than normal, though Sheridan had no idea what any of them could do. She could only hope no one read minds, because the thoughts she'd been having about Jules were embarrassing enough to turn her face perpetually red.

“You've met the team. Names can get confusing, since the men call each other by last name, well, except for Jules. But don't worry. They answer to just about anything.”

Mrs. Sharpe paused, and Sheridan realized she was supposed to say something. She dug through her memories of last night. “Kisho was the soft-spoken man next to Morgan, the one with green eyes, his partner.”

“And mate.”

“Mate, right.”
Not just partner. That’s a human concept, apparently
. “Gunnar is the tall blond with the chip on his shoulder who brought my suitcase to my room.

Jesse is the Circ who married Olivia. They did marry, right? I saw matching rings.” Mrs. Sharpe nodded.

“Ava is your assistant. I won't forget her, because she's the first person around here, besides you, who's vertically challenged.” Mrs. Sharpe grinned.

“And Jules…”
Jules is the god on two legs who makes my heart race and my
body liquefy. A man who worms his way into my every thought and renders my
willpower useless with a kiss. Man, I have it bad. If this guy’s not on the level, I am
in real trouble.