She's No Faerie Princess (6 page)

As they stepped into the other room, she looked from theenormous invitingly rumpled bed to the Lupine's grimexpression and made a face. It didn't look like she shouldget her hopes up here, but she couldn't stifle thedisappointed sigh when he grabbed her by the shouldersand positioned her squarely in the center of the room,well away from any and all accommodatingly flatsurfaces.

"Don't move."

Obediently, she stood still and watched him rummagethrough a chest of drawers. He pulled out a pair of jeansfirst and tugged them on roughly. With his back turned,he missed the wistful expression that crossed her face asthe heavy cloth slid over and concealed his trulymouthwatering behind. She consoled herself by admiringthe way the fabric cupped and molded to him, right upuntil a veil of blue-striped cotton landed on her head,cutting off her vision. She reached up to yank it away andheard the thud of another garment landing at her feet.

"Get dressed," he growled, and stalked past her out of

the room without another glance.

Sighing, Fiona picked up the sweatpants he'd left her anddropped them on the end of the bed while she slippedinto the soft cotton shirt and went to work on the buttons.

Sometimes, she really wished her instincts were a littleless reliable. Because then maybe she wouldn't be quiteso convinced that sleeping with Tobias Walker would bethe most exhilarating experience of her life so far, or thatthe man would rather chew glass than give in to theirmutual attraction.

This vacation was turning out to be a lot less fun than shehad planned.

CHAPTER 5

It was tough to do any strategic planning while sportingan erection that would have scared most lifelong sexworkers.

Walker realized this during the few minutes he spentpacing his living room and trying to decide what to dowith the hundred pounds of trouble in the next room. Lupines tended to be a superstitious lot—maybe becauseof the primitive instincts that lurked so closely beneaththeir more civilized surfaces and maybe just becausethey
 
knew
 
some things could only be explained by magic —but Walker had never thought himself to be particularlyprone to those kinds of thoughts. He'd certainly neverbefore suspected he might be cursed. Now, he had torethink that position. What other reason could there be forthe sudden appearance of the niece of the Queen of Faerie who had dropped into his lap at a time when he

already felt like a juggler keeping half a dozen

Volkswagens spinning above his head?

"I could fit me and a friend in this outfit. Know anyone

who might want to come over and join me?"

Walker whirled on Fiona with a snarl before he realizedhow stupid that was. If he wanted to ignore the sparksthat flared between them, he probably shouldn't bereacting possessively at the image of another malegetting into the princess's pants.

Dragging his gaze away from said pants—a pair of hissoft, gray sweats that bagged adorably between thetightly winched drawstring at their waist and the thickcuffs where Fiona had been forced to roll up the hems tokeep from tripping over them—he found her eyes smilingat him, clearly amused and unconvinced by hisdetermination to keep his distance. Probably because itwas pretty clear he hadn't managed to convince himselfyet.

Hell.

He shoved a hand through his hair and tried to adopt aless lust-glazed expression. "I need to figure out what todo with you."

"I could make a suggestion—" She broke off when he

made a choking sound, as if he'd just swallowed his own

tongue, and her grin turned wicked. "Actually, I could

make several, but you seemed to indicate a desire for me

to keep my hands to myself. So I was thinking more

along the lines of you bidding me a fond farewell and

letting me get back to my vacation."

"Like hell."

He must have looked as dismissive as he sounded,because she gave him a petulant little glare. "What? Haven't you ever needed a few days off?"

"Lady, you've got no idea. But what part of being a Faerie

princess has proved so fricking taxing for you?"

"Don't ever call me that!"

Her vehemence took Walker by surprise. He raised aneyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Youobject to the truth?"

"I object to you making assumptions when you know nothing more about me than the name of one aunt."

She glared at him with an expression that could havemelted steel, and he tried to tell himself that was betterthan the expression that said she wanted to lick him upand down like an ice-cream cone. His self snorted.

"Whoa," he said, holding up a hand. "You're the one with the magic powers and the pointy ears, which make you Fae, and you're also the one who told me you're Queen Mab's niece, which makes you a princess. So how am I a jerk for calling you what you are?"

Her lip curled. "I don't know. You're the son of a bitch, sowhy don't you tell me why word choice makes adifference?"

Walker sucked in a breath and fought the instinct to snarl. She'd made her point, though she was the first womanhe'd ever met who objected to being called a princess. "Fine. You don't want me to curtsy? Works for me. But I

still need to figure out what the hell happens next."

"You don't need to figure out anything about me." Her tone couldn't exactly be called polite, but at least she'd stopped breathing fire at him. "I can take care of myself. So, thanks for your help with the demon. I appreciate that. It's been nice meeting you. Hope you have a nice life. See ya later."

She took a step toward the stairs, and his hand shot outto clamp around her wrist. "Hold it. Where do you thinkyou're going?"

"Like I told you, this is my vacation. I think it's time I went

and saw some sights."

"Right. Because I'm definitely letting Mab's niece wander —unauthorized, unescorted, and out of magic—around Manhattan. That's gonna happen any minute now."

She pursed her lips and twisted her wrist in his grasp, buthe held firm. "Can I assume you've sunk to sarcasmnow?"

"Sweetheart, let's not even get into sinking right now,

okay?"

"Then how about you stop insulting me by telling me I need to use the buddy system like the average five-yearold? I can take care of myself. I wasn't born last week. In fact, I wasn't born last century. I'm not some defenseless babe."

Walker blinked at that age statement. He knew the Faecould live for thousands of years, but he hadn'tconnected that abstract fact with the woman in front ofhim who looked about twenty-five.

"I never called you a defenseless babe." Though he couldn't deny the term "babe" had crossed his mind a time or two. "But you are a defenseless Fae right now. You told me that yourself, so when it comes down to it, that's not a whole hell of a lot different."

Her violet eyes narrowed. "If I'm that defenseless, thenwhy am I the one who distracted the demon long enoughfor us to get away?"

Walker chose to ignore that. She sure as hell didn't needhis encouragement in risking her pretty little neck. "Youare not leaving here and going wandering around my cityalone. If that was your plan, you can forget it right now."

"What makes you think you can stop me?"

He just looked down at her, letting her see the fierce glowof his eyes and the fierce clenching of the muscles thatwanted to grab her and shake her senseless.

Her chin rose another notch, along with her obviousdetermination. "Fine. You can stop me. But you have tosleep sometime."

The threat hung in the air between them for a longmoment before Walker swore. He wouldn't put it past her. The minute he turned his back, she'd probably be out thedamned door. And the worst part was that she was rightabout the sleep, too. His eyes felt like they'd beencovered in sandpaper and then set on fire. If he didn't getsome rest soon, his body was going to take the decisionout of his hands and crumble into a heap on the firstavailable flat surface it came to. Hell, at this point, hecouldn't even be sure about the flat part. And he'd bet asmall fortune that when he woke up, there would be a

neat trail of little Fae footprints running right down the

middle of his spine.

"I don't suppose you'd consider cooperating."

She smiled so sweetly, Walker felt his stomach turn over. In fear. "Why don't we try it and see? I'll even tuck youin."

His stomach took a turn south even as his inner wolf satup and begged. He muttered, "Down, boy."

"What did you say?"

He turned away and reached for the phone. "You'd bettersit down. I need to make a phone call."

Fiona looked less than thrilled by the suggestion. "Myaunt screens her calls, you know."

Walker snorted. "Even if Ma Bell had laid fiber-opticcables from Faerie to Timbuktu and back, I wouldn't dialthat number on a bet. Tell Mab her baby niece wound upnaked on my sofa half-eaten by a demon? I'm not thatflavor of stupid."

He dialed quickly and kept one eye on her while helistened to the phone ring. She didn't sit. In fact, shestood glaring at him while one foot tapped impatiently onthe floor, but at least she was staying put. For themoment.

"Do you have any goddamned idea what time it is?"

Walker ignored the threat in the growl on the other end ofthe line and barked out a question of his own. "How sooncan you get over to my place?"

The growl shifted abruptly into a whimper, and theaggravated male voice in his ear turned decidedly whiny. "Aw, come on, Uncle Tobe. I just got to bed like fourhours ago, and I have an exam in the morning. I'm agrowing wolf. I need my sleep."

"Give it up, Jake. A hundred-year coma wouldn't be enough beauty sleep to make you prettier. Get your butt over here. You've got fifteen minutes."

Hanging up the phone, Walker settled himself onto thesofa and propped his heels on the edge of the coffeetable. He could feel Fiona's eyes on him but let his owneyelids drop and rested his head on the cushions behindhim. God, he needed some sleep. He also needed to feelthe princess spread hot and naked beneath him, but likehe'd already said, he wasn't that stupid.

She watched him for a couple of minutes; he could feel itas clearly as if she'd been touching him, and he grittedhis teeth against the sensation. Then she heaved adisgruntled sigh and flopped herself down on the otherend of the sofa. "Well, at least I know now that you're justthis charming with everyone, so I won't take it personally. But I can't believe no one ever taught you bettermanners."

He didn't even twitch an eyelash. "Remember,sweetheart, I was raised by wolves."

CHAPTER 6

Fiona glared across the cushions at Walker's completelyrelaxed form and stifled the urge to scream. She'd knownthe man for less than an hour, and she'd already had torestrain herself from tearing his clothes off or wringing hisbloody neck. That had to be some kind of record.

With her teeth clenched together hard enough to alter theatmospheric pressure in her skull, Fiona watched theeasy rise and fall of the werewolf's chest and plottedsome very creative forms of revenge. As bonelessly ashe'd sprawled over the end of the sofa, she knew betterthan to assume he'd fallen asleep. She had no doubt thatif she so much as moved a muscle, she'd find herself flaton her back before she even realized she'd lost herbalance. Now, that wasn't something she'd have mindedif she had thought he intended to do anything abouthaving her in that position. Other than yell at her, anyway. But somehow this seemed like a particularly bad momentto tug this wolf's tail.

She really didn't get this whole resistance thing of his. In Faerie, and especially amid the decadence at court,resisting a mutual sexual attraction was unheard of. Bordering on mind-boggling. In fact, Fiona couldn't call tomind a single instance in which she'd ever seen any Fae
not
 
indulge in the kind of chemistry that existed betweenher and her stubborn werewolf. It just wasn't done.

Despite the fact that her people had left the human worldfor their own several millennia ago, they still possessed afew characteristics best described as "earthy." Foremostamong them was the tendency to screw like bunnyrabbits. The Fae just liked sex. They considered it a

natural, healthy, and pleasant way to pass the time, so the fact that Walker was refusing to pass some time with Fiona when she had been able to feel how much he

wanted to just didn't make sense to her. Maybe it was

one of those weird things humans got hung up on and

Walker had been corrupted after living among them for so

long.

She took advantage of his closed eyes to watch hisexpressions. She wasn't sure what she was looking for,only that she liked looking. Relaxation didn't make himlook any softer. His jaw stayed just as firm, hischeekbones just as sharp, and she could still see a littleecho of the furrow she'd already noticed creasing hisbrow just between his eyes. It was a hell of a trick,managing to look just as much of a conquering warriorwhile sprawled limply on a sofa as while trying to tear thethroat out of a rampaging demon. She'd ask him how hedid it, if she thought she'd be sticking around.

Making a face, Fiona tucked her feet up under her andpulled her knees to her chest. She needed to keep thatpoint in mind. This was supposed to be a quick vacation,a little pleasure jaunt undertaken for the purpose ofeating pizza and those "hot-dog" things, taking in a fewpunk concerts, adding to her aunt-shocking wardrobe,and basically distracting her mind from the situation athome. The last thing she needed was a case ofunrequited lust for a werewolf with an attitude. In contrastto the rest of her family, Fiona wasn't the fuck-and-fleetype. She liked to be able to remember the names of themen she slept with, and she liked it better if she spentmore than a few minutes of non-naked time with thembefore and after. Since that wasn't possible here,