Hunter's Prey, A (7 page)

“She's going to want more,” Dominic pointed out, knowing her better than Damian's other brothers from their interactions during the meetings.

“I know. Which is why I intend to keep
myself
away from her.”

Hands crossed against his chest, Damian pursed his lips.

“So... are you in with me, or am I doing this alone?”

***

She had to move quickly if she was going to get the information she needed. All Hunters were out somewhere – she'd taken the painstaking time to ensure she was virtually alone in the mansion. One of the best things about HUNTER security was that it was tight as hell on the outside, so that it could be looser on the inside. She'd learned that during the informative meeting that had changed her life and had welcomed her among HUNTER club members.

Quickly sorting through his drawers, she concluded there was nothing there but underwear and socks. Next was the dressing room – a huge one with clothes to dress an army. A couple of times she paused to imagine him in several outfits, but swiftly reminded herself she was gathering data.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm looking through his things to learn about him. This is not the beginning of a healthy relationship.

Pausing, a gasp escaped her at an old photo she found, a copy of an old painting that depicted Damian, but it seemed...

Not of this century.

He looked dignified, dressed in some kind of military clothing, similar to Napoleon's depiction in paintings, if she was to compare. Unlike many of the pot-bellied, white-wigged, long-nosed captains and generals she'd seen in old paintings, he was as fiercely masculine in the painting as in reality. She wondered how old it was, but decided she would learn that somehow.

Quickly, she wrapped the tiny picture in half and tucked it in her pocket, continuing to search his bedroom for more clues. There were a few notebooks she found, but they contained no other information than different formulas – chemicals and drugs he was researching, she guessed. Why a military man would want to dabble in chemistry was a mystery for her, but she discovered she liked mysteries, as long as they were solvable.

When she couldn't find anything else, Zoe picked up her bag and left the estate, no questions asked. Besides, security had no orders to question anyone for motives of departure.

***

“Yes, give him to me,” Damian growled into the phone, getting dressed on the way to the front door of the huge mansion.

After his meeting with his brothers, he'd felt he'd needed a dip in the small lake, lingering under the waterfall, trying to both soothe his nerves and his arousal. It was unearthly how Zoe affected him, but the fact that she was certainly his mate explained everything.

However, he hadn't taken into account her wit. Now he had no choice but to run after her like a lovesick puppy, cursing her for her recklessness. They had explained the dangers of being part of the HUNTER Club to her, and she had still left the estate without notifying anyone. She had also stolen a private thing of his, an old depiction of him – one that had probably raised quite a few questions in her stubborn head. He could already envision the way she was going to grill him. Of course, the moment she had stepped out of safe ground, a whole team of security had started tailing her, but it was a level four, not nearly enough for his sanity.

You are being paranoid.

Still, if anyone got word of the fact that she was his mate, or that he'd fucked
her,
MedFuture's CEO, she was going to swiftly become leverage.

Or if they smell me on her, in her. Fuck. Did she even bother to take a shower?

He realized he almost didn't want to know. Groaning as he pushed a leg into dark jeans, Damian growled into the receiver.

“Jackson, I don't care what you do, but I want you to be behind Miss Jameson's car right now.”

“Sir, don't be unreasonable. I am a shifter, not a space warper, or how you call it. Not able to teleport just yet.”

“We're working on that, damnit. Shit,” he cursed, missing the arm of his blouse. “Listen, get your best men and put them at her disposal, stat. I want no excuses, and I want full security for her.”

“May I ask what is the suspicion, sir?”

“There's no suspicion.”

“Then why do you sound so desperate?”

“I'm not desperate, damnit, just do what I said.”

“Shit, all right, don't kill me when you see me.” His head of security sounded reasonably put off by his temper, as he should, because this time he
wasn't fucking kidding.

“If she's properly shadowed, I'm happy, which means you're happy. Trust me, Jackson. You want me fucking happy.”

“I know, sir,” the man said, before checking out.

Damian barely breathed at the beautiful sight that awaited him as soon as he left the house, jumping from the top of the front stairs and transforming into a sublime wolf midair, sturdy paws hitting ground and taking off at a crazy pace. Unlike most of the time when he took in the beauty of the nature that surrounded him, this time he was focused. He jumped the high fortress-like walls surrounding the estate, the security system recognizing his biology and not zapping him full of electrical shocks, as it was designed to do with any organism alien to its database.

In roughly five hours of relenting running he was back to MedFuture headquarters, waiting for her, praying this would be the first place she would come to. He'd taken a shortcut, one sh had no way of knowing, but he would have to settle a few things with her before completely ignoring her. She couldn't continue being so reckless with her life. Not now that she held his sanity in her dainty hands.

Jeez, can you be any more of a selfish prick?

Silencing his meddling conscience, Damian tried to immerse himself in his work, as always, finding it wasn't happening this time. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of bourbon and heading to her office, finding that her lingering scent soothed him. He'd ignored her PA's shocked gaze at finding him charging into her boss's office, but she hadn't dared comment. He'd also heard the call she'd made, informing her boss of his arrival. He didn't give a shit. In fact, he wanted her to know beforehand.

Shit, he wanted
her.

***

Zoe tried to pretend it wasn't getting to her, but it was no use. Marissa's warning that Damian Hunter was expecting her in her office with a bottle of something strong had had her blood pressure rising dangerously, and she was still recovering, three hours later. Images of office sex came unbidden, dirtying her mind unnecessarily, not that she needed it clear and spotless.

This was the night. She was meeting Newman.

He'd had his PA call Marissa and set up a meeting. Zoe had made it back in the US just in time for it, leaving the estate early in the morning to be able to arrive punctually.

As expected, Luke Newman had proved both flexible and unrelenting. He'd agreed to The Forest and her request of joining her for a relaxing meal, but he'd requested it be dinner instead, and that very same day. Marissa had said yes. Now Zoe was dressed for an elegant dinner, ditching her masculine business outfits for a stylish plum dress that said
I'm-sexy-and-confident-but-I'm-not-showing-you-anything-unless-you-work-for-it.
It was the dress to wear when you met your arch-nemesis, the shallow V-neck showing just the tiniest hint of cleavage, while the hem kissed the skin above her knees. She felt empowered, safe. The fact that her security had been updated was a bonus. The Hunters had informed her she had been tailed all this time – she'd had no idea – and that as a CEO and a HUNTER Club member she needed much more protection, which they would provide. Maybe their security teams had been the ones giving her the feeling she was being tailed that she hadn't been able to shake in quite a while.

Entering the lavish restaurant she knew so well for conducting business meetings there, she wondered at the imposing sight of Luke Newman. For a man in his forties he looked positively lively and dangerous. Stray white hairs brushed his temples, hinting at stresses unimaginable. He had a lean face, but a robust body, as undeniably male as any of the Hunters. A beautiful woman was sitting at his side – an expensive accessory, Zoe was sure. They looked in love, speaking to each other avidly and holding each other's attention in a way she wished Damian and herself would one day be able to. As she walked toward them from behind, she noticed they looked to have been sitting there for quite a while.

Just before she reached them, his head cocked to the side just slightly and he turned his head toward her in an eerie fashion that reminded her too much of the Hunter brothers' reflexes. She wondered if Luke Newman was human, and if she would ever trust anyone to be who they said they were again.

For a moment, she let her mind get distracted with the speed at which Damian had gotten back. He'd reached the US before her and he had arrived at the estate some time after her departure. Reason suggested he had used an aircraft of some sort, but then she remembered that
reason
was no longer needed when she thought of the Hunter brothers, who apparently weren't even brothers to begin with.

He's not human,
her mind supplied, then became curious.
What else can he do?

Shaking her thoughts away she rounded the table and pasted a radiant smile on her face, assuming her best business casual persona. She needed to be imposing, confident, business smart. She needed to impress him and put him in his place if he thought he could intimidate her.

Well, he can.

“Miss Jameson,” he greeted, a menacing smile stretching his thin lips. Both he and his girlfriend had gotten to their feet – or was that his wife?

“Mr. Newman,” she nodded, shaking his hand with vigor and strength, knowing that first impressions were everything. Then she looked at the woman, her eyebrows lifting slightly. “Miss?”

“Carla Giacomo,” she provided, extending her hand to shake Zoe's outstretched one. The woman was gorgeous – one of the most exotically beautiful women Zoe had ever encountered, and she found herself longing for the olive skin and healthy, full hair Carla had, complete with Mediterranean looks and a curvaceous body. And if anyone ever missed her name screaming
I-am-Italian
, her slight accent betrayed her origins. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said and Zoe answered, “Likewise.”

“
Excuse us for a second, Miss Jameson – Carla was leaving.”

“Oh? That's fine, take your time. I'll take mine to think about what to order.” She made a point of not touching the menu laid before her, indicating she knew it by heart.

“Vi lascio, amore. Ci vediamo stasera,” she told him, giving him a chaste kiss on the mouth before grabbing her purse, greeting Zoe politely and walking away from them, defined calves showing with every step she took, making Zoe envious of the woman's shameless charm.

Focusing on the meeting at hand, she looked Newman in the eyes as the waiter took her order after pouring her a delicious complimentary Shiraz she got every time she went there.

“I have to say, I'm quite surprised you asked to meet with me, Mr. Newman.”

“Why should you be, Miss Jameson?” he asked, a brazen smirk on his face. “It's not every day that the Hunters choose a woman for a CEO. It's a first actually, I felt I must congratulate you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it quite fully.”

“And I must admit,” he continued as though uninterrupted. “I was
intrigued
. To say the least. I know how...
particular
the Hunters are.”

“Oh?” she asked, eyebrows lifting as the waiter came to bring something else to the table in preparation for her meal.

“Yes, and I venture to assume you might know what I am referring to.”