Ellida (31 page)

WHILE DRIVING us back to Red Cliffs, Ingmar
phoned Jack, who’d just arrived from one of his short trips, to
tattle on us about our trip.

“I told you he’d go ballistic,” he mouthed,
laughing and holding the phone away from his ear. I could hear a
long stream of loud, angry rants about my recklessness, and then
Jack asked Ingmar to ask me please why I hadn’t at least told Ahmed
where I was going.

“Because he wouldn’t let me go, that’s why,”
I snapped, as Jack continued cursing, swearing and threatening to
lock up both Peyton and me. He mentioned the ankle monitor
and—because that was too good for me—handcuffs.

I couldn’t resist the challenge. “Oh, I like
that part, Jack. Check the bottom drawer, on your side of the bed,
honey. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said in a smoky
whisper.

He said something unintelligible and then I
heard, “I have a better idea,” before he disconnected. Peyton
opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Not a word.
Any of you.”

They burst into laughter instead.

Ingmar dropped me off first and then drove
Peyton home, leaving Jack’s truck in her garage, still invisible to
accidental spectators.

JACK OPENED the door and stepped aside to
let me in.

“Upstairs.”

I sprinted the stairs, giggling, thrill
spreading inside me like fire. I could hear Jack behind me.

My red dress and black net-stockings lay
spread across the bed. A pair of black pumps with crisscross straps
was neatly placed on the floor.

The nightstand next to his bedside sported a
pair of shiny handcuffs, which we didn’t keep in the house at all,
I was quite sure about it.

I turned around and looked at my gorgeous
man. He leaned against the doorframe, his long legs crossed at the
ankles. His eyes, dark and slanted, moved lazily over my body. I
could hear the strong and fast thumping of his heart and smell his
musky arousal. My eyes wandered around his tight, worn out T-shirt,
deliciously stretched over his muscled chest, before they traveled
south. I licked my lips.

“Where did you get the handcuffs?” My husky
voice sounded so sexy it didn’t sound like mine at all.

The deep, throaty growl that came out of
Jack’s chest sounded more familiar.

“I’m a sort of sheriff here, am I not? From
the police station, where else? I was there when Ingmar
phoned.”

“Why did you go to the police station? Any
problems?”

“No problems at all.”

I raised my eyebrows. “If you’re the sheriff,
you have the uniform, then, do you? Do you wear it sometimes?”

His nostril flared, and the corner of his
mouth twitched. “Nice try, but I’m still angry, baby. And you are
not allowed to talk, unless I ask you something. You’re reckless,
stubborn and disobeying, and it’s time to teach you a lesson.”

Uh-oh. Something bad was about to happen, and
I could hardly wait. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Don’t talk, I said. It’s simple, in fact.
You have to do whatever I tell you. Understand?”

Oh, it was getting better and better every
second. I nodded.

“Now, put that dress on.”

I grabbed the dress, stocking and shoes and
made a step toward the bathroom.

“Here, Astrid. Put the dress on here. I’m
taking you out for dinner.”

If that was going to be the punishment for
wandering around, tomorrow I was going to visit Maggie in Austin.
All by myself and on foot.

I unbuttoned my shirt, taking my time,
revealing with each button a little bit more of my skin and
smoky-grey satin-and-lace bra. My wardrobe was a happy mixture of
elegant and casual but mostly inexpensive clothes, but when it came
to lingerie, I was sort of obsessed. My chest of drawers was full
of the finest pieces of various undergarments. And the most
beautiful nightgowns, which I now didn’t wear as a part of an old
deal between Jack and me.

I slowly slipped the shirt off my shoulders
when Jack stopped me. “Leave it there. First your bra.”

I unclasped it, holding it over my breasts
with my hand, and then slowly took it off. The thin, silky fabric
of my turquoise shirt brushed over my breasts, already swollen with
arousal.

Jack let out another deep growl, but didn’t
move. Two hungry eyes feasted on my exposed skin.

All right, then. He wanted to play, so play
we would.

Keeping my head low I caught my bottom lip
between my teeth, casting occasional glances at Jack through my
lashes, hot and suggestive.

The sweet ache between my legs was so intense
that my knees buckled.

Where did I learn to undress like a stripper?
I wondered as a rush of blood soared through my body.

I removed my matching miniature panties, and
stood completely naked, save for the necklace with the wolf pendant
that nested above the soft valley between my breasts, and my pink
diamond engagement ring.

Jack finally moved from the door, took a few
steps toward me, and then stopped. He held on to the last threads
of self-control, a hairbreadth away from hurling us both into
bed.

He swallowed hard. “Stockings first, then
shoes, then dress. Hurry up,” he commanded in a husky whisper with
a wolfish smile on his lips.

When I was done, he moved aside and let me
out, walking a few steps behind me. He murmured something about my
posterior and my dress that should come with a hazard label instead
of the designer’s. “Skull and crossbones, lethal danger, that
should be there,” I heard him grumbling as he opened the
passenger’s door of my car and let me in.

I WAS wondering where we were going.

Einhamir and all, I knew Jack would never
parade me around Red Cliffs dressed like that. My dress and my
nakedness under it, not to mention Jack’s physical reaction, were
too intimate for letting anybody else have even an involuntary
glimpse.

I sank into the seat. The cold, sleek leather
met my hot skin, sending shivers through my body. Jack drove fast,
in total silence. I was so aroused that I had to keep my fist
clenched, my legs tight and my body rigid so that Jack could safely
take us wherever he’d planned to.

At some point we left the main road, turning
off onto gravel. The car stopped. We were parked on a patch of
grass at the beginning of the forest.

The moon probably shone nicely through the
thick and tall ancient trees, and the forest probably bathed in its
silvery light. I knew I should have noticed things like that, but I
couldn’t have cared less about the beauty of the night that
surrounded us.

Our little game of submission and dominance
was over. Jack jerked me from my seat and crushed me against his
chest. His mouth met mine in a ferocious, deep kiss. His tongue was
rough and demanding, and I responded with the same force.

He pulled my dress up, cupped my bare butt
and sat me on the warm metal of the car hood. For a moment I
struggled with Jack’s buckle, and then, cursing aloud, cast a
little spell that dealt with it beyond repair.

Time seemed to slow down. Jack’s strong hands
wedged my knees apart. I heard him tear a wrapper and smelled the
rubbery scent of a condom mixed with a hint of strawberry. And then
there was only the hot length and width of his shaft pressing into
my body and filling me completely. The swelling of the knot, hard
thrusts, swirling stars and dancing dots behind my closed eyelids…
the hot lava that erupted inside my womb, Jack’s climax seconds
after mine… And then silence, disturbed only by two sets of
heartbeats mingled into one, the night, the moon and its silver
light that gilded the forest, and us with it.

My arms were still clenched around Jack’s
neck, and my legs wrapped around his waist. He rested his weight on
me, still locked inside my womb.

I’d never felt safer and more powerful, more
loved and cherished.

We didn’t talk. He nuzzled my neck and
earlobe, then moved to my mouth, planting fluttery kissed on the
corners of my lips. He lingered there for a while before his head
dipped down, found my nipple, still erect, still sensitive, and
sucked it gently. I moved my hips, and felt him moving inside me in
response. Before the knot released, he was rock-hard again. We just
continued loving each other on the shiny metal surface of my red
car, gently, tenderly, as if making up for the rough coupling we’d
shared less than ten minutes ago.

AFTEWARDS WE sat down on the quilt that Jack
had spread on the grass. From the trunk, he took out a food basket
with sandwiches, cheese, fruit and a bottle of chilled Chardonnay.
It told me the whole evening, handcuffs included, had been planned
before Jack had heard about my trip to Silverbell Ranch.

I slipped on my rumpled dress and, hungry as
a hunter, methodically went through the food on my plate.

“I’m sorry I upset you today,” I said a
little later, sprawled across Jack’s outstretched body. The night
air was crisp, but I felt warm and protected.

“You pissed me off royally, baby. I was about
to call you when Ingmar phoned me.” He turned over and braced
himself on an elbow, tucking me under him. “Astrid, I don’t want
you to feel like a prisoner here. And I don’t think you put
yourself in much danger today with your little adventure. This is
our land, you should be protected here. I only wish you’d told
somebody about it. Ahmed, mom, James, anybody. Why didn’t you phone
me?”

“To do what?” I said defensively. “To ask you
for permission to go for a short drive with my friend? Jack, I’ve
been under surveillance of one sort or another for almost my entire
life. I’m tired of babysitters, escorts and bodyguards. I thought,
once here, I’d be free within these—how many, five, six
hundred—square miles. Why am I going through all this training if I
still can’t be left on my own?”

Jack let out a deep sigh and ran his hand
through his hair. “I was afraid it’d come to that. I knew if we
pressed you too much, you’d try to break free,” he said quietly, as
if he was talking to himself. He sounded sad and worried.

Gee, the whole thing had been blown out of
all proportion. It had nothing to do with my trip today, it was
Jack’s own monster in the closet peeking out. I had to put things
back on track. I framed his face with my hands and looked into his
eyes, shadowed with concern.

“Jack, I’m not going anywhere. This is my
home, this is my life. I’m happy. I love you. I don’t want to be
anywhere else. And I’m going to Silverbell again, maybe even
tomorrow. I promise, though, I’ll call you before I go, or Ahmed,
or somebody. Happy now?”

I caught a spark in his warm, honey-gold eyes
and realized Jack was not above a little emotional blackmailing. He
wasn’t concerned about my staying, restricted movement and
pressure. He knew me better than that. He knew I was happy here in
Red Cliffs. He’d just wanted to make me consider my own safety as
my priority. And he was right. My protection was the whole town’s
prerogative, and it was only fair that I also took it
seriously.

I laughed and kissed him senseless. “That was
a dirty trick, Jack Canagan. I should have seen through it. But
you’re right. I should be more cooperative.”

“Well, you know what they say, the end
justifies the means,” he laughed back, catching a breath.

“Okay, Machiavelli, you scored a point but
the game’s not over. We’re just half-through the negotiations.”

BEFORE WE went home, Jack had promised to
send Peyton on a fake business trip so that she could stay with
Ingmar and do her training. I got permission to visit them as long
as somebody went with me. Simple announcement of my travel plans
was suddenly off the table. I also got a weekend at The Watchman’s.
Here Jack had tallied another big one, first because he had already
promised me that long ago, so I didn’t get anything new, and
second, he’d made me reciprocate with a whole list of quirky stuff,
starting with the shiny pair of handcuffs forgotten on the
nightstand beside the bed.

To seal the deal, I got back one night per
week to wear a nightgown of Jack’s choice, and he’d promised to
bring home his police uniform. For dry-cleaning.

THE FIRST days of spring brought three Red
Cliffs women—two werewolves and one human—to Astrid’s office for
prenatal checkups.

After trying to get pregnant for years, all
three of them had conceived during the month of March.

Werewolf pregnancy was almost the same as
human. A werewolf fetus was as vulnerable as its human counterpart
and required similar prenatal care. Astrid did the routine tests to
establish the blood rhesus type and went through a basic
questionnaire to set up an accurate medical history.

THE GENETIC material of humanoid races was
99.5 percent identical, which allowed them to interbreed. The
remaining half percent accounted for their differences, including
in the blood.

Werewolves, like their human and wizard
cousins, could be rhesus negative or positive blood types. Unlike
humans, the rest had only one blood group. It was highly compatible
with the blood of other races, which made mating between them
possible, if not frequent.

Only Tel-Urughs stood apart. Procreation
among them was rare, although it seemed it happened more often when
they had other partners, notably humans. The rarest of all were
children from pure-blood Tel-Urugh parents.

A low birth rate among Langaer was one way
nature controlled the size of the races of long living individuals.
Given their tendency to meddle in humans’ bloody affairs, and a
long history of internal conflicts between the clans, werewolves
did die; especially at a young age when they were more like humans
and therefore vulnerable. Betty had told Astrid that so many of
their kind had died in the two World Wars that even now, decades
after, the population was still far below their optimal
numbers.