Wolf Mate (7 page)

Dax stepped into the shower
and braced his hands against the wall as the water sluiced down his
back. He replayed last night's events in his head, and his lawyer
mind began to sieve out the facts from the emotions. Levi Madden
didn't kill that man. Rebecca Rose was still in danger. And Melynda
was still...not his.

He closed his eyes, and
against his will, the image of her naked body pulsed on the back of
his eyelids. She was against the wall, staring up at him as he
pinned her hands up on either side of her head. God, he could lose
himself completely in her eyes and her body. He was already
drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, falling harder and faster....

He saw her, on her bed, on her
back, her legs spread for him, her pussy pink and wet and aching for
him.

She was...beautiful. In the
moonlight, she looked like a goddess, so lush and ripe. Her auburn
hair fanned out around her face as she panted and arched her back,
presenting her hard, glistening nipples to his mouth.

He could taste her still on
his tongue. So sweet and addictive. Dax fisted his erection, but
the ache in his loins was unbearable. He was going to explode,
violently and messily. The water pounded his broad shoulders as he
slammed one hand against the tiles and gripped his cock in his other
hand. His thoughts were solely on Melynda as his fist tightened and
his hand began to move with an urgent, crazed intensity. She was
tight, so fucking wet and tight. Being inside her had felt so damn
good. He remembered pushing deep into her slick heat, and pounding
into her. She had clenched at his cock, pulling it greedily into
her. And she had come, over and over for him. He longed to hear her
screams of ecstasy again, if only in his mind. Dax jerked, thrusting
hard into his fist. Once, twice, and his seed shot from his body.
His thick, white semen hit the tiles and spiraled with the water at
his feet. He roared her name as he ejaculated, wishing he was
shooting his seed into her hot, shuddering body.

“
Melynda!”

Finally spent, Dax pressed his
forehead against the cool tiles, listening to the echo of his roar
and his deep, heavy breathing. The muscles on his back were still
tightly bunched, his need still roiling within his loins.

He raised his face to welcome
the harsh, pelting water droplets. He could see her so vividly in
his mind, taste her on his tongue, even feel her against his skin.
She was a dream.

A dream.

That was what it was.

It wasn't real.

It was just a fantasy.

His mind and his body were
conspiring to torture him, to drive him completely mad.

Dax snapped off the water and
shaved and dressed quickly. His movements were sharp, tensed, fueled
by frustration.

This was no time to lose his
head. There was urgent work to be done.

He had to be in the office,
right now.

Adjusting his cufflinks and
his tie, he grabbed his jacket and car keys, and exited his
apartment. There were only twelve units in this exclusive,
prestigious development by GC Inc., the real estate firm founded by
Glenn Constantine.

Dax liked the exclusivity, the
quiet and the privacy. With the long hours he kept in the office, he
seldom saw his neighbors, and he liked it that way. He never brought
any women home. They belonged in a hotel room, not in his home, and
definitely not in his bedroom.

Dax pulled his Jaguar out of
the underground parking lot and turned out into the highway. Traffic
was still light, and he would definitely make it to the office before
nine.

Keeping his eyes on the road,
Dax recalled his conversations with Levi. He knew that Levi was
telling the truth. He had dealt with enough untruthful and dodgy
clients, and Levi was definitely not one of them. Levi was a
powerful bear shifter, yet he was wary of Phin Lester, Rebecca's ex.
He viewed the human as a serious threat, and he believed with every
fiber of his being that Phin would harm Rebecca.

Dax frowned. What kind of a
man was Phin Lester?

Turning his car around, Dax
sped toward the city hospital. Slotting his car into an empty lot in
the hospital car park, he walked briskly to the reception counter and
asked for Rebecca Rose's ward number.

“
Are you her attorney?”
The receptionist checked the records and eyed Dax warily.

“
Yes.”

“
I'm afraid Miss Rose
is...still in a coma. She won't be able to talk to you.”

“
She's allowed
visitors?” he asked grimly.

“
Yes. But you'd have to
get past the police officer stationed outside her room. She's the
victim of a shifter attack, so the police aren't taking any chances.”

Dax nodded, and thanked her.
Returning to his car, he swore under his breath as he drove to the
office. Rebecca Rose was in a coma. She wouldn't be able to give
her statement to the police, and tell them what really happened. She
wouldn't be able to testify at Levi's trial. She was the only
witness to what really happened that night.

With a deep frown on his face
and a lot on his mind, Dax parked his car in his reserved lot and
entered an empty lift. The law office of Ferro, Wells and Robertson
was on the twenty-third floor, and it afforded him a perfect view of
the city.

The glass doors were already
unlocked, and Dax glanced at the tall figure pacing in the corner
office. Ian was muttering to himself, wearing down the carpet and
spinning a pen between his fingers. Dax rapped sharply on the opened
door of Ian's office. “You didn't go home last night.”

Ian jerked his head up and
scowled. “What? You sound like a wife, or a fiancee, or a
girlfriend.” He waved a hand in the air. “And that is
why I'm never getting married, or engaged, or...attached. In any
way.”

Dax laughed. His partner had
the ends of his rumpled shirt out, his top buttons undone and his
sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie and jacket were lying in a
puddle on the carpet. Ian was clearly “in the zone”, as
Matthew so aptly put it.

“
When Ian's on a case,
he's like a bloodhound. He'll sniff out every inconsistency, every
loophole, and he'll go for blood,” Matthew had quipped. “Ian
Robertson is one bloodthirsty bastard, and that makes him a fucking
good lawyer! Blood and law...hmm, I wonder why there aren't more
vampires in our firm?”

Dax had wondered the same
thing, but there just weren't many vampire lawyers around. It just
wasn't their thing. Lawyering, it seemed, was a human thing. Every
city was swarming with human lawyers.

Dax folded his arms and leaned
against the door frame. “That's what they all say. Those
confirmed bachelors who profess that they're never taking a wife all
end up shackled to their marital beds.”

Ian snorted. “And I've
dealt with enough divorce cases to know that these fools end up
writing alimony checks the size of New Moon City a few years later.”

“
You're much too young
to be so jaded,” Dax tut-tutted. “You're only
thirty-four!”

Ian wagged a finger at him.
“Just because you're three times my age doesn't give you the
right to lecture me.”

Dax held up his hands. “I'm
the last person to lecture you. What do I know about marriage? Mine
failed spectacularly.”

Ian stopped pacing and met his
eyes. “Yeah. I heard.” There was a note of sympathy in
his voice. He chewed the end of his pen, suddenly thoughtful. “Do
you think...”

“
...that I'll get on the
roundabout again?”

Ian nodded.

“
Well, I'm not one to
deny myself.” Dax winced at his own words.
Except when it
comes to her
.

“
Sex, shagging, booze
and boobs. We all know that's a different roundabout. It's easy to
get off that one.” Ian gave him a lopsided smile.

Dax sighed. “I know the
roundabout you're talking about. I will never get on that bloody
roundabout again. Because that was exactly how it was—bloody.
And it hadn't even been real. It was a bloody illusion.
Werewolves are supposed to mate for life. That turned out to be a
lie for me. So, no.”

Ian stared at him in silence.
Then narrowed his eyes. “Remind me to come talk to you, if
ever I am crazy enough to get on
that
roundabout.”

Dax barked out a laugh and
turned to go. “I don't think we'll be having that talk anytime
soon. I heard you're seeing a model though.”

“
Model?” Ian
looked genuinely confused. “What model? They're all models!”

Dax shook his head, leaving
his partner to continue his pacing and strategizing. Ian's skills
and tactics in the courtroom were formidable. As Matt said, Ian was
a brilliant lawyer. So was Matt, for that matter. Those two humans
played hard, but they worked harder.

Dax passed Melynda's desk on
his way into his office. He paused a beat as her scent invaded his
nostrils and his senses.

He swore under his breath, and
forced himself to step away. He couldn't let her affect him so. She
wasn't even physically here, and already her scent clung to him,
winding around his body and his brain.

He slammed his office door
shut behind him. Keeping her out of his sight might keep her out of
his mind, for a while. But he would know when she came into the
office and settled down behind her desk. He would hear her, smell
her, feel her.

Dax booted up his laptop and
started to type. He wanted to jot down the salient points of his
meeting with Levi Madden while the conversation was still fresh in
his mind. Levi had given him precise instructions to protect Rebecca
Rose. He would visit Rebecca later today, and—hope for a
miracle. If only Rebecca could tell him something, something that
could help Levi...and save her own life.

Dax stopped typing.

Levi had been so certain that
Rebecca was in grave danger. He was convinced that Phin would
attempt to attack her, and kill her, even while she was in the
hospital.

Dax frowned. He understood
the werebear's protective instincts. But what if Levi's fears
weren't unfounded? What if he wasn't just being paranoid and
possessive? What if he was right?

An innocent woman would be
killed.

Dax saved his notes in the PAC
folder, and scrolled through his emails. He had to finish up his
work quickly and get to the hospital. He'd made a promise to Levi,
and he would keep it.

There were queries and new
instructions from clients, and the usual office announcements. He
answered his more urgent emails and proceeded to work on the
agreements and contracts that were piled on his desk.

He knew exactly when Melynda
came into the office. He heard her soft footsteps and he heard the
scrape of her chair, and the familiar clicking of her keyboard. But
she didn't knock on his door and enter his office. Neither did he
buzz her in.

He had to concentrate.

Focus, damn it.

Finish up the work and keep an
appointment. A promise.

Dax put his head down and
worked feverishly. He went through stacks of documents, and his out
tray began to fill up. He should buzz his secretary in and get her
to send out the completed contracts and documents, but every time his
finger hovered over the buzzer on his phone, his hand shook and his
mind flashed with thoughts of her, thoughts he had been fighting the
whole morning.

Slamming the last of his files
into his out tray, Dax leaned back and forced a deep breath into his
lungs. Why was he obsessing over her? He had never felt like this,
never wanted a woman so much that his desire for her was a physical
ache, tearing and eating at him.

Dax gripped the sides of his
leather chair and growled, his eyes flying open.

No, that wasn't true.

He had felt like this. Once.
Just once.

It had been a witch.

His claws began to inch out
painfully as the memory sliced at his heart and his soul.

Melynda was a witch as well.

But she was not
that
witch. Not
that
kind of witch. Was she?

From what he knew of her
family, they were a coven of Elemental witches. Her elder sister,
Jasynta, Blake's mate, was a dedicated healer and an efficient and
competent Elemental witch. According to Blake, she picked plants and
herbs in the wild, and used the cleansing power of rain and water to
power her magick, taking the best of nature to work her spells and
potions. Their coven Elder, Lucinda Morgan, who was their
grandmother, was also a powerful Elemental witch. So was their
mother Anita. Anita's earth magick was manifest in their abundant,
overflowing garden. Dax had driven past their house more than a
couple of times and saw the garden crowded with golden and silver
rose bushes. Flowers of every hue and scent bloomed all over their
fence, waving their petals at him as he drove past.

He shouldn't be suspecting his
secretary of dark magick.