Fate Forgotten (9 page)

His mouth watered. His cock swelled painfully. A growl escaped his lips.

That shirt. A man’s shirt. Was that why Nathan had come? Had he had her?

His blood heated, his demon begged.

The reason why he
had
to control his rage forgotten.

His eyes narrowed. “Whose shirt is that?”

Startled, she jumped. “What?”

“Whose shirt is that?” He pointed at the shirt.

“Umm…” She glanced down at herself, readjusted the shirt, and mumbled, “I-I’m not s-sure.”

Fuck.

Contemplating whether to kill every male within a fifty mile radius, he fisted his palms and took a deliberate step in her direction.

She mirrored him, taking a step away.

“Have you had so many men?” Even as mad as he was, as jealous, he regretted it instantly. Watching her face pale, his stomach soured.

Nathan materialized inches from him, blocking her from view. “Jesus, Jacob! How could…” His voice trailed off.

Nathan defending
his
mate, protecting her? It was
his
job! His temper flared again, his demon on the cusp.

His jaw clamp down. “
I
suggest you leave.”

“Valerie, go change. I’ll wait for you,” Nathan said, his gaze stayed on him.

She couldn’t get away fast enough. Rushing out of the room, she nearly crashed into the couch.

“Have you forgotten you are under
my
command? I told you to leave, warrior. You should follow orders before I do something you’ll regret,” he threatened. “Demons have done worse under similar suspicions.”

“The shirt
isn’t
mine. I’m
not
sleeping with her,” he whispered.

The relief he felt didn’t penetrate before Nathan said, “What type of man would I be if I left now? She’s terrified of you, and you practically called her a whore.”

He flinched. “Why are you here?”

“The shirt is mine.”

Turning, he spotted Clyde striding toward them. “What?”

Clyde shook his head. “The shirt is mine. The night we brought her here, she had nothing. Everything was lost in the fire. Ashley took one of my shirts and dressed her.”

“The fire?”

“Caused by explosions.”

All his fated’s belongings burned in explosive fires? She could’ve died! Had she been hurt? And he’d called her a whore?

“Close.”

Fuck, he made a mess of everything, given her more reason to fear him, given her a reason to hate him. What had he been thinking saying something so cruel to his fated? His jealousy and temper were his demise. How would she ever forgive him?

“Uncle Jake?” His attention snapped to Annie standing at the mouth of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Are you mad at Val? I heard you yell at her.” She approached them.

His stomach turned. Kneeling in front of her, he cupped her cheek. “No, pupa, I’m mad at myself.”

“You hurt her feelings. She’s crying.”

His chest tightened. “Shit,” he whispered, then stilled. “I didn’t say that.”

Annie nodded. “Yes, you did. I heard it, but I won’t repeat it. I promise.” She looked behind him, then met his stare again. “You should say you’re sorry and buy her a present.”

He must’ve heard her wrong. “Huh?”

“When Mommy got mad at Daddy, he would say sorry, then buy her a present to make it better. You should get her flowers.”

Flowers? There weren’t enough flowers in the world to show her how sorry he was.

“We’ll be in our apartment,” Clyde said. “Come, Annie.”

He watched them walk away, strode down the hallway, and stopped in front of the only room with a closed door, Valerie’s. He knocked.

“Nathan?”

His temper flared again. He bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming. “No,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s Jacob.”

Through the door with his superior hearing, he heard a sharp inhale of breath. “I’m not feeling well—”

Open or I’ll break down the door
. He thought better of it and said, “I’ll just stay out here and wait until you feel better.”

“Please don’t. Please leave.”

He leaned his forehead against the door, realizing he had no choice but to apologize with a door standing between them. “Valerie, I’m sorry. I was angry, and I said something I’ll never forgive myself for, but please forgive me.”

She didn’t speak, so he took the chance and went on.

“I didn’t mean what I said. I was jealous—”

“Jealous? Of what?”

He swallowed. “I didn’t want anyone seeing you…” Naked. No, she hadn’t been. Half naked?
He settled for “…in your state—”

“In my state? What state is that?” Her voice rose, throwing sass, not sounding afraid of him one bit now.

It pleased him. What didn’t please him—she needed a door between them to speak her mind.

“You were practically naked. I could see…” He closed his eyes. The image of her wearing the white oversized shirt flooded him. Her beautiful face, her sleek body, those flawless legs…

His mind ran wild, imagining her face inches from his, her body tucked against his, and those legs wrapped around him. “You could see—”

The door swung open, and the words died on his lips. He lost his balance and fell to the ground.

He cursed under his breath.

She laughed. His head snapped up, gaze on her, and his heart stilled in his chest. A sparkle lit her warm, honey eyes, her smiling face illuminating the room, blinding him. Breathtaking, more beautiful than he thought possible.

She tensed. Her smile faded. Fear mingled with her earlier amusement.

“Laugh.” He smiled. “It’s funny, and I deserve worse.”

She relaxed and smiled. He allowed his gaze to trail down her body, covered with a long robe.

Just a few feet from her, he rose to his knees. “I am sorry, Valerie. I was a jerk.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s fine.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hurt you. Made you cry.”

She turned her head to the side. “Yeah, but I electrocuted you yesterday, and you forgave me so…”

“It’s not the same.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but…”

“Would you forgive me if you electrocute me again?”

Her eyes widened. “What?” Her voice rose slightly. “Do you think I’d get pleasure from hurting you? How will that solve anything?”

“Revenge?”

“The idea of revenge is always better than the feeling afterward.”

“That depends on the reason for revenge.”

“No, it doesn’t. Haven’t you ever heard ‘revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice’?”

His jaw dropped. When he recovered, he found himself saying, “Beautiful and wise.”

She flushed, then immediately shook her head. “I forgive you. You don’t have to waste your time flattering me.”

“I’m being honest.”

She took a step away from him. “Stop that right now, Jake.” She tensed. “I mean Jacob.”

He smiled, loving the way his name sounded on her lips. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“Yeah? How about ‘angry demon’?” she retorted, sardonically.

He nodded. “I suppose I deserve that, and it’s true. If you want, you can call me that, but just so you know, you’re the only one who can.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“I deserve it.”

Valerie exhaled noisily. “Get up, off your knees, and get dressed…please.” She turned away from him.

“Not until you forgive me.”

Turning back around, she snapped, “You’re infuriating. I already told you I forgive you.”

“But will you hold it against me, against Annie?”

Her eyes narrowed, flaring to life. “How horrible a person do you think I am?” Her arm shot out. “First, you insinuate I sleep around, then you ask me to hurt you as some sort of payback, and now, you think I’d hold a grudge against an innocent child for something her uncle did?” She spun away in a huff and stormed off.

How did he keep messing this up?

He stood, then rushed to her. “No, I swear I wasn’t trying to offend—”

She faced him, stopping him in mid-sentence.

He barely had time to stop before he knocked her over.

“You are…” She looked around, then finally said, “Trouble.”

Shit.
That wasn’t good. “Trouble?”

Turning away, she rushed into the bathroom. He stuck his hand in the doorway expecting her to slam it in his face. Still turned away from him, she flicked her wrist. The door slammed against his hand. Bones snapped.

He groaned in pain.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry! Why did you have to make me angry?”

Next thing he knew, she stood close. “I deserved it.”

She blew her hair out of her face, then snapped, “Stop being so damned condescending.”

His beautiful witch reached for him. Well, for his hand, but still. The moment her hands touched his, a jolt of pleasure ran through him. The single touch comforted him more than anything or anyone in his entire existence, with the exception of Annie. Annie comforted him, a lot, but in a different way.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not anymore,” he said, honestly.

“God, I’m so sorry. Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to make a witch mad?”

He chuckled. “No, can’t say anyone ever has.”

Her gaze pierced his, and she took a step away. Despite the pain, he tightened his hand around hers preventing her from releasing him.

“I’ve given you plenty of reasons to hate me, but don’t. I said things I didn’t mean and without considering how they’d sound to you. I don’t know you at all, but I want to. Annie likes you.” He shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t avoid me. You have every reason to, but please don’t.”

Her face softened. She nodded. “Okay, Jake.”

“I still feel horrible about it. Can I make it up to you? Maybe make you lunch or dinner or take you out to eat or perhaps a movie?” He hadn’t meant to ask her at that moment, but he was glad he did. The perfect excuse to spend time with her. He’d messed up and needed to befriend her before anything else happened between them.

Her cheeks tinted pink. “You don’t need to do that. I forgive you.”

“It’s the least I can do. I’ll make you lunch while you teach Annie that fishy braid…I mean the fishtail.”

She bit the side of her lip and smiled. “Fine, but only because you’ve exasperated me with your apologies.”

“Works for me.” Reluctantly, he released her hand and turned, took two steps before he faced her again. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

She nodded.

Chapter 13

The bedroom door closed behind him. Valerie slumped against the bathroom counter. The male hadn’t ceased to surprise her: angry one minute, sweet the next, then apologetic.

Have you had so many men?
She cringed.

By far the meanest thing anyone had ever said to her. It hurt, but she couldn’t understand why. She never cared what people thought of her. And he couldn’t be farther from the truth. At twenty-four, she was still a virgin, the reason why her sisters often teased her and encouraged her to date.

Despite what he said and how he acted, she couldn’t hate him. He instantly recognized his mistake and attempted to correct it. There was honor in that.

What stunned her the most wasn’t him rushing to her for help, how he’d acted when Nathan showed up, or how he’d insulted her. Nope.

He claimed to be jealous. Why would he care who saw her in that long white shirt? It revealed nothing. If it had, she would’ve changed. After all, she lacked the confidence to parade around half naked in anyone’s company. She barely wore dresses, for God’s sake.

The shirt was a man’s, but she hadn’t lied when she said she didn’t know who it belonged to, and it hadn’t concerned her. The night her life changed, she’d awoken at the demon compound wearing it. She assumed Ashley had changed her, but never bothered to ask about the shirt’s owner. She continued to wear it because it was large and comfortable to sleep in, and she always preferred long shirts instead of fancy nighties.

Jealous? She balked, shaking her head. He lied. He had no reason. It implied he cared about her more than…No, he couldn’t. He didn’t. He just wanted to soften her, persuade her to forgive him, and he thought flattery the best way. He even complimented her several times afterward…on his knees.

An unsettling sight: an angry, bitter warrior wearing nothing but a towel begging her to forgive him? His eyes so dark, so expressive, showing her just how sorry he was…

The man was trouble. Her gift warned her, and now she knew despite what she believed last night, it hadn’t failed her. He had the uncanny ability to frighten, insult, and infuriate her. Worst, her attraction to him. The way he wore that towel around his waist, his chest bare and chiseled, muscles bulging, and that six pack that made her want to trace her fingers over the ridges.

God,
she
was in trouble…and late for breakfast if she didn’t hurry.

Dressing in a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved, baggy navy blouse, and a pair of comfortable flats, she headed into the elevator and waited to arrive on the dining room floor. When the doors parted just a sliver, Nathan took one look and headed for her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Sorry, I left—”

“Don’t worry. He apologized, repeatedly. It’s fine.”

He adverted eye contact, then met hers again. “You know he didn’t mean it, right?”

She studied him, wondering why he would defend Jake after the way Jake acted, not just to her but to him. She’d pegged Nathan for the type that stood for what he believed in and one thing for sure: he believed in respecting women. She learned that the day she met him. A true gentleman: well-mannered and well-spoken, courteous, opening doors,
insisting
she needed protection, yet making sure he gave her space, too.

“He’s quick to lose his temper, and say things he doesn’t mean, but…”

Lifting a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. “But?”

“Most men do.”

It left her more confused. Nathan didn’t seem to have that problem. In fact, she never met a man who
chose
to live basking in anger. Jake did.

She meant to ask, but the elevator doors parted and in walked Jake and Annie, who took one look at the mass of people and turned away, burying her head against his leg, tightening her arm around one of his thighs. Turning, Jake bent down. Placing his hands under her armpits, he lifted her in one swift movement, cradling her against his chest. He then scanned the room. Those dark eyes of his halted when he spotted them and hardened. She had no idea why, after he’d just apologized profusely, he was angry again, but she ignored it. Her attention shot away from him to Annie, who glanced at her and smiled weakly. She returned the smile. It didn’t go unnoticed that Jake relaxed, his eyes and manner softening.