The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) (16 page)

Time seemed to stop. He gave a sudden, strangled intake of breath, and when the air came back out it was in a low, throaty growl. It rattled off the window panes, as powerful as the thunder but much, much lower, so low she felt it throughout her entire body. There was something unearthly about that sound—something about hearing it coming from a human mouth. It wasn’t a human noise.

Deep inside her body, all her steely resolve and carefully-honed confidence melted to icy liquid and sluiced away, leaving her bare and exposed.
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit—

She’d made an awful mistake. He hadn’t been scared of her; he’d been scared of himself.

His eyes changed and, this time, there was no doubt. They shone like two gold coins as he grabbed her upper arms and twisted her, ramming her back against the bureau so that the hard edge of it dug into her ass. His mouth was on hers, those full, sensual lips finding her softer ones, his tongue plunging between them, demanding and possessive.

She gasped with the shock of it but she felt her eyes close, her lips flower softly open…and then she was kissing him back, mouth as open and hungry as his. He was pressed against her from shoulder to groin, his muscles like iron, and against her thigh she could feel the hot hardness of him.

There was pain on her bare upper arms, but it only deepened the intensity of the kiss. Their bodies writhed together, her breasts pressing against his chest, until suddenly—

He tore away from her, whirling to hide his face, and staggered halfway across the room. She gasped and panted, her legs suddenly weak. She had to blink to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw: thick, black and gray fur on his exposed neck. Her upper arms stung. When she looked down at them, there were thin red scratches where he’d gripped her. She looked back to Alex and caught a glimpse of his hands. Shining black claws extended beyond his fingers.

He seemed to feel her eyes on her, because he snatched his hands in front of his body to hide them. He hunched his shoulders, flipping the collar of the robe up to hide his neck, and stood there for a second, breathing slowly. She thought to look down at his feet, but they were normal. When her eyes made it back up to his neck, he’d relaxed his shoulders and his neck was just tan, perfect skin again. A second later, his hands dropped to his sides and they, too, were normal.

Had she imagined the whole thing?

She looked at the red lines on her arms. No. No way. “What
are
you?” she asked, her heart hammering in her chest.

He staggered over to the far side of the room and leaned against the door. He seemed almost drunk and shook his head as if to clear it. When he spoke, she could hear the anger and self disgust in his voice.
“I warned you!”

He’s between me and the door,
she thought.
Her heart was pounding, an animal, instinctual fear still flooding her veins. And yet now, looking at him standing there so normal, so
human…
the whole thing seemed insane. There was something else, too, something irresistible to any reporter: the feeling that she’d caught a glimpse into a world that was normally off-limits.

And, alongside everything, the frightening intensity of the attraction. However scared she was, a big part of her wanted those lips back on hers,
now.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” And she believed him.

“This is what happened with the woman from the village, isn’t it?” she asked slowly. “She came here to seduce you, and you…changed.”

He gave her a long look…and then nodded.

“Jesus.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. The wind was rising again outside, howling past the windows.

“I’m okay,” he said, “as long as I stay away from you.” He shook his head. “It shouldn’t be like this. It didn’t used to be. I used to be able to control it, years ago, but….” He sighed.

She picked up the glass of Scotch and drained about half of it in one swallow. It helped.

“You’re a….” She couldn’t say it. It sounded too ridiculous. “You—I mean, you change into—”

He gave her another long look. “Do you want to go?” he asked. “I can move away from the door. I want you to know that you can go.” And he backed off into the other corner of the room.

She looked at the door, and the normal, sane world that lay beyond. Part of her wanted to run back to it as fast as she possibly could.

The other part of her was remembering the feel of his lips on hers. She shook her head.

“Then swap places,” he told her. “I need a drink.”

They edged around the room. Halfway there, when they were at the closest point, he shook his head and gave a gasp, and she saw his hands bunch into fists as he fought it.

“What is it?” she asked, panicked. “I’m not even touching you!”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to. It’s everything about you. Your hair. Your eyes. Your body.” He said it in such a stark way, and yet that Scottish burr turned everything to poetry—somehow, the raw honesty of it made it even more intense. “If I close my eyes, I can still smell your scent.”

He moved around to the bureau, and she circled around to the door so that they were at opposite ends of the room again. He poured himself a Scotch, and the ritual of it seemed to calm him. “With the other woman that came here…it was different. She sneaked in while I was reading, put her arms around me. She was kissing me before I knew what was happening. She had to put her damn hand down my pants before I lost control. With you…I could feel it starting to happen even when you were still outside.” He suddenly met her eyes. “She was just a woman. You’re a woman I
want.”

It sank in that she was against the door. She could open it and run into the night.

If she wanted to.

Hot desire was throbbing out from her core and snaking up and down her limbs. Hearing him describe how much he wanted her, how she affected him, was the most deeply erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

“It’s okay,” she said slowly. “I mean, I was scared. I’m still scared, a little. But it’s okay.”

He gave her a long look, as if judging whether she meant it, and then nodded gratefully and relaxed a little.

“Have you always…been like this?” she asked.

“It happens at a certain age. I was nineteen.” He took a deep breath. “When I was younger, it seemed easier. I only changed occasionally, a few times a month. I could control it better. Then the woman came here—” He shook his head, remembering. “I scared her so much.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Rachel said slowly.

“She nearly drowned!” He sighed. “After that, it was easier to just…withdraw. I stay here, out of sight. I have groceries sent over by boat and left outside the door. No contact with anyone.”

It made her mind spin. To be isolated like this, locked away in a castle.... “Can’t you—I mean, if people knew, maybe someone would be able to help you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “
Help
me?” he said. “What makes you think I want to stop it happening?” He looked bitterly out of the window, the flashes of lightning lighting up his face. “The problem isn’t what I am. It’s how people would react. They’d lock me up in some damn lab.”

Rachel thought about some of the stories she’d covered. Kids with abnormalities. People with problems. He’d get the worst of both worlds—it would be a media circus and then the authorities would get involved.
Some damn lab
was probably right.

“What’s it like?” she asked in a small voice.

He looked at her strangely, as if no one had ever asked him that before. “Wonderful,” he said. “You have no idea how good it feels, to run through the forest fully changed. I run for hours through the trees and then come back here to sleep.”

She looked around the room—at the roaring fire and the cushions in front of it. In some ways, it didn’t seem such a bad life—apart from the heart-breaking loneliness.

She realized she’d stopped thinking about leaving. “It happens when you get…
emotional,
right?”

He nodded. “Angry. Or….”

“Or…
worked up.”

They stared at one another for a moment. And then he seemed to shake himself, as if casting off a foolish daydream. “There’s no way off the island tonight. We’ll have to get you ashore tomorrow—can we do the interview then?” He looked down at his robe. “When I’m more appropriately dressed?”

She nodded. If she shot a video and sent it by lunchtime, she’d still make her deadline—assuming she could find a decent internet connection.

“There are plenty of bedrooms. Pick any one.” He nodded her towards a doorway—beyond it, she saw an ornate wooden staircase.

He’s sending me to bed…alone.
A part of her was disappointed.
Of course he is! Are you nuts? You only just met him and he’s a—a—
God, had she really been thinking about…she blushed. “Thank you, Lord McKillington,” she managed, and headed toward the stairs.

She thought he wasn’t going to reply. She was almost past him when he suddenly said, “Alex.”

She turned and blinked at him.

“Alex. You can call me Alex. I mean, you can call me Alex if you want to.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I had to make small talk with a beautiful woman and I wasn’t great at it to start with.”

Rachel had to just nod, because all of a sudden her chest felt tight.
Did he just call me beautiful?

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