The Alpha's Mate (30 page)

He had an embarrassing point. “Well, n-no,”
she stuttered, thrown off the argument she was ready to make. “I
just wanted to tell you…”

“Then you might want to wait until I do,” he
cut her off. “Don’t know how it works where you come from, but
around here, a man usually does the askin’ before the woman begins
the tellin’.”

“But Charles said an Alpha could overwhelm an
Alpha’s Mate with his will,” she said quickly, “And I just…”

Marshall did that thing that he did where he
made himself seem so much larger than he really was. He loomed over
the bed.

“Have I ever imposed my will on you?” he
asked quietly.

He must have. He gave her time to think about
it and she finally shook her head. No, he had never done what
Charles had; maneuvered her into awkward positions. He’d always
gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable and yes, in
control.

“That’s right.” He nodded toward the door
behind him. “On the stairs of this very house, after you snuggled
up to me and purred like a kitten, after you kissed me and let me
taste and feel what heaven would be like, I stopped when you said
no. If I’d imposed my will, you wouldn’t have been able to say
no.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. He had
never pushed her.

“Have I ever encouraged you to do anything
you didn’t want to do?” he went on. He sounded so calm and
reasonable, yet she could feel his underlying anger and worse, she
knew she deserved it.

“No,” she said weakly and blushed when the
word came out as a squeak.

He lost the anger and his smile was smug. “As
I recollect it, Lizzie Reynolds, the first time I met you, you
wiggled that pretty little cotton clad ass at me and licked my
chest.”

Elizabeth slunk down in the bed and pulled
the covers up over her head.

“I,” he continued, and she could hear the
laughter in his voice, “I was a perfect gentleman.”

She felt him move to the bed, felt him grip
the covers and tug. She hung on for dear life, knowing she was no
match for his strength. He didn’t bother with the tug of war. He
touched her hand.

A surge of sexual energy and need flowed
through her that was beyond anything she’d felt before. Her breasts
swelled and her nipples hardened to stiff, almost painful, peaks. A
gush of liquid heat formed between her legs and her hips thrust
upward of their own accord. She moaned. Her rational mind suspended
thought, overwhelmed with a primal demand for pleasure and this
unfulfilled need.

It wasn’t Marshall who pulled the covers
down. She did it herself. She wanted him more than she’d ever
wanted anything. She tried to rise up to throw her arms around his
neck and kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She wanted her hands and
mouth on his body. She needed his hands and mouth on her. She
wanted to do things with him that made their night of lovemaking
pale in comparison.

Marshall’s strong hand held her to the bed.
He leaned down and whispered against her pleading lips.

“This is what my will feels like. This is
what I feel for you.” He kissed her lightly and stepped away,
withdrawing his hand. The feelings immediately subsided. “It’s more
than genetics. Much more. And I would never impose it on you…
unless you wanted it, too.”

He walked away and left her panting on the
bed, still burning for his touch. At the door he paused and turned
back.

“And I still think those little roses are the
sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Or maybe…” He winked. “…it’s the
woman wearing them.”

He’d been gone for several minutes before the
words even registered. Did Marshall really think she was sexy? She
certainly felt sexy and that was odd since he hadn’t done any more
than touch her hand and chastely kiss her lips.

Elizabeth tried to analyze what just took
place, but it was several minutes before her brain was functioning
much beyond the basic “WOW!” It was several more minutes before her
eyes stopped rolling back into her head every time she recalled any
of the many ‘suggestions’ Marshall had sent into her mind. Who knew
such a straight laced guy could be such a creative lover? And why
was she grinning like a fool and getting hotter by the moment just
thinking about things that normally would send her into shock?

Her face fell and her skin turned to
goosebumps as if someone had doused her with cold water. Some of
those thoughts, feelings, images, she didn’t know what to call
them, were the same as the impressions she’d felt from Creepy Eyes.
Why was she suddenly thrilled and excited by things that two days
ago revolted her?

It was more than genetics. That’s what
Marshall said. Maybe it had just as much to do with the type of
Alpha who wielded the genetics. What was it Charles said? An
Alpha’s Mate was a receptacle for the Alpha’s lust. What if he was
wrong? He wouldn’t be the first person to think in terms of lust
rather than power. It was a misconception many people still
harbored concerning rapists. They thought it was a crime of lust
when in reality it was a crime of violence, of the brutal exercise
of power. Therein lay the difference between Creepy Eyes and
Marshall.

With Creepy Eyes, those acts would be
perverted applications of his power. His pleasure would come from
forcing her to comply and his enjoyment would increase in direct
proportion to her revulsion.

She was thrilled and excited by Marshall
because it would be part of a roller coaster ride of sexual
adventure, an exploration of each other’s needs and fantasies. She
would trust him to take her on such a ride because of his honesty
and integrity. But was that enough?

She curled onto the pillow and pulled the
covers back over her. Was she doing to Marshall what others had
done to her; making assumptions without searching for the
truth?

Because it wasn’t all smoke and mirrors. Not
on her part anyway. There was more to what she felt for Marshall
than just a horny itch that needed to be scratched. Yes, she was
physically drawn to him from the first moment he touched her, but
if she removed sex from the equation and just looked at the man,
she liked what she saw.

She hadn’t lied when she told Charles that
his brother was a good man. He loved these people and the land they
lived on. It was to his credit that he tried to preserve their way
of life while incorporating it into the modern world.

He believed what he said about small
sacrifices, but he never talked about the big sacrifices he’d made
and she suspected it was because he didn’t see them as such. He was
a man she could respect and admire and… love.

It was as clear to her now as it was before
she knew she was an Alpha’s Mate. Maybe clearer. Sure, she was
flattered by the attentions of two handsome men and yes, she’d felt
those sexy urges with them both, but now that she knew what she
was, she could see beyond it.

She’d never been comfortable with Charles.
She’d always resorted to the fictional Cassandra because… well…
because he didn’t come with a list of How To Act In The Presence Of
Charles. That night on the porch, she’d held herself away from him
not only because she found those urges frightening, but because to
do anything less would have been a betrayal of what she felt for
Marshall.

She’d met Marshall, covered in mud, wearing
an ugly cotton bra and granny pants. He’d seen her at her very
worst and if what she felt from him was real, it didn’t matter.
With him, she’d never needed a list of things to say or how to act
and any time she’d tried to be anything but what she was, she’d
failed miserably.

How strange that she’d come to Rabbit Creek
in a search of just that; who and what she really was. Marshall saw
it before she did. He saw it on the night they met. Wet and muddy
and wrapped in a scratchy blanket from the back of his car, she
hadn’t recognized it then. Literally stripped of the clothes and
hair and makeup that proclaimed her status, lacking any of the
social props and lists on which she’d always relied, she became
Lizzie. And Elizabeth realized, with a silly grin that was becoming
all too common on her face, that she liked Lizzie.

Lizzie could stand up for herself without
regard for what other people thought. Lizzie was no quitter. Lizzie
wouldn’t run. Lizzie would find Marshall and make him tell her what
was real. And whatever that turned out to be, Lizzie would handle
it.

Chapter 32

Elizabeth dressed quickly, a woman on a
mission. The jeans were hers, the ones she’d been wearing the night
Marshall was injured. They were clean now as were the green silk
bikinis she wore beneath. The shirt, however, was a donation from
someone much larger than herself and her bra was missing. Like her
tee, it was probably a victim of blood stains no amount of washing
could remove. Her shoes were missing as well, though she had no
idea if she was wearing them when Charles dropped her off like a
sack of potatoes.

Downstairs was eerily silent after the crowd
the other night. Elizabeth heard a quiet murmur from the kitchen
and after listening for a minute, she determined that Maggie and
Roy were alone and enjoying a cup of coffee. While she believed
Maggie would help her leave if that was her final decision, she
also knew the old woman and her husband were loyal to Marshall and
the pack. If they’d been ordered to keep her confined to the house,
they would do it. She couldn’t fault them for it, but she wasn’t
about to hang around to find out.

She quietly let herself out the front door
and said a silent thanks. Whoever fixed the screen door had also
oiled the squeaky hinges. She didn’t want to explain to Maggie who
she was looking for or why she was looking for him. This was
private.

Marshall’s police Explorer was parked out
front so he had to be around somewhere and the barn was the logical
choice. There was a light in the window and the door was ajar, so
wincing at the stones digging into her bare feet, Elizabeth made
her way across the yard.

Max was peering over the stall door checking
out the mare and her foal. She turned as soon as Elizabeth entered.
It was too late to retreat.

“Oh. I was looking for Marshall,” Elizabeth
said awkwardly. “I saw the door open and I thought…”

“Oh, um, Marshall went up the mountain. About
an hour ago.” Max sounded just as awkward. She started to speak,
hesitated, and then said in a rush, “Miz Elizabeth, please don’t
stay mad at me. We did what we thought we needed to do. We never
meant to hurt you. Maybe we should have told you that very first
night when you saw the wolvers, but we were afraid you’d run right
back down the mountain…”

“I probably would have,” Elizabeth admitted.
She tried to smile, but knew it was more of a grimace because she
was trying so hard to keep the tears from spurting from her eyes.
“I’m not angry with you,” she said, remembering Maggie’s words.
“Well, I was, but I was just as angry with myself for not seeing
what was right in front of me, for not knowing if you liked
me…”

“But we did, Miz Elizabeth, we do!” Max
cried. She took a few steps forward. “Why Mr. Begley put you in the
Home Place, I’ll never know and I’ll admit, when we came by to fix
it up, it wasn’t because we liked you. Hell, we didn’t even know
you. We half expected you to stand around in your fancy clothes
giving us orders.”

Elizabeth laughed. “If I recall, I was still
wearing your clothes.”

Max laughed, too. “Okay, but you know what I
mean. And you didn’t stand around. You got down on your hands and
knees and scrubbed with the rest of us.”

“I’d never scrubbed a floor in my life.”

“You see? You even killed your own mice.” She
laughed again. “I know, I know. I mocked you some in the telling of
it, but I wanted folks to know you weren’t looking down at the way
we live. You were willing to learn. And you didn’t mind the funnin’
and the teasing. You laughed at yourself. Oh, Miz Elizabeth, we
liked you right off.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Max, are you my
friend?”

“I’d surely like to be.”

“I’d surely like to be yours, too, but if
we’re going to be friends, you have to drop the Miz.”

“I can do that.” Max grinned widely and then
frowned. “Not sure how Marshall might take it, though. He’d want us
to show respect for the Mate.” She suddenly looked worried. “You
are going to be his mate, aren’t you?”

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “Alpha
or not, Marshall has no say in what my friends call me. As to being
his mate? I don’t know.” She smiled. “He hasn’t asked. And I don’t
know yet what I’m going to say if he does ask. That’s part of the
reason I have to talk to him. There are things I need to tell him
and there are thing I need to know.”

Max looked at the door as if someone might be
listening in. “We’re supposed to keep you here where you’re safe.”
She raised her hand to forestall Elizabeth’s interruption. “Maggie
said that if you was to ask about Marshall, I should tell you that
you need to wait here until he comes back from the spring, because
that second narrow path to the left is a hard climb and it could
take most of an hour to get there. So I’m figuring you wouldn’t
dream of going against the Alpha’s orders and when you leave here,
you’re going right back to the house to wait.” She looked at
Elizabeth’s bare feet and grinned. “And as you don’t seem to have
the sense God gave a goose, running around with no shoes when you
ain’t used to it, I’m giving you my sneakers so’s you don’t stub
your toes. They’re a might big, but they’ll get you where you need
to go, seeing that’s just across the yard and back to the
house.”

Elizabeth gave her a quick hug. “Thank you,
Max. I’ll be careful walking back to the house.”

“You do that.” Max was trying not to laugh.
“If you happen to see GW, you tell him I said hey. He and some of
the boys are with Henry scouting about. Course, Henry told ‘em he
was more concerned with who was coming in than who was going out.
Oh! I almost forgot. Henry said to tell you that you and Marshall,
both, need to change your ways. That make sense to you?”