Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (95 page)

Jean-Paul had acquiesced.

This man hadn’t.

Grant didn’t even know his name.

Turmoil circled inside him and one insistent force drove him forward. Leigh. He just wanted to see her face. To see with his own eyes if she now feared or hated him. More than the wolf drove him this time, though it loved the idea of being near her again, too. No. This urgency pounded from his heart. He didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t know what he’d do. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had plenty of ideas about what to do. First, though, he had to get to her.

~~~

Chapter Fourteen

Grant knocked softly and continuously on the door. He knocked a little harder. Paused and listened. Beatrice was a light sleeper, and for all he knew Leigh could be a heavy one. If Beatrice answered, he’d reassure her and return to the infirmary. He’d hate leaving, but he would do it. He probably had about forty minutes, and he should take less. He’d won over that nurse, but only marginally. Her job would be worth more than a shirt and a smile.

If Leigh answered the door, it might take all his will to talk instead of touch. Thankfully, the wolf wanted Leigh in a very different, platonic way. It had a deep, possessive need to be at her side, watching, always wary of who might hurt her. Why would anyone want to hurt Leigh? Grant put his ear to the door. Footsteps? He tapped his knuckles on the wood. “It’s Grant,” he said at the seam of the door. “Hello?”

Long moments passed with no sound. The cold air nipped his naked chest. Thankfully, the very late hour kept the corridor quiet and his hopes high that no one would see him standing about shirtless. Not that it would be the first time. Amazing how shifting had diminished his sense of propriety. He imagined Leigh on the other side, listening. His nipples pinched in the chill. Maybe there hadn’t been footsteps at all. “Leigh?” he said at the door, hoping he had heard her. “Leigh, are you there? Please. Open the door.”

She might not want to see him. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him. In his fantasy, she answered the door, scolded him for making her worry, reached out and touched his face again. He must have been standing here for five minutes. Possibly ten. His unbidden feelings for this woman had gotten seriously out of hand. What was he thinking by coming here? They’d agreed to avoid each other. He let his head fall against the door. “I just needed to see you,” he admitted to the empty air.

The lock slid open. The door cracked ajar. Grant straightened. A sliver of her face peeked through, and then she opened the door all the way and took in his full visage. Uncertainty, worry, and finally, relief, shone in her emerald eyes. He walked into the room and quietly shut the door. Step by step, he slowly backed Leigh up.

“
Where is Bea?” he whispered.

She pointed at the bedroom door. “Where’s your shirt?” she whispered back.

His gaze flashed down to her bare calves. His mind noted that she’d skipped donning a robe. Did she want him to see her bare ankles? “Somebody needed it more than I did.”

“
What happened to you?” Leigh asked, folding her arms under her breasts. Her nipples pressed at the fabric. Her unbound hair fell in mussed, wheat-colored waves around her sleepy face. Fresh out of bed and delectable.

His hands itched to run through that hair. “I was arrested.” He stepped toward her. She didn’t back up. “I don’t have much time.”

“
I know you were arrested. Nick told us. I meant, are you okay?”

“
Head injury. I’ll be fine.”

She shook her head, her gaze skittering over his naked chest and arms. “I meant...I don’t know what I meant. I guess I was worried you—”

“
Killed a man?”

“
Yes. That.” Again, her eyes drank in his appearance. “What happened?”

The heat in her gaze stoked his own. His body hardened under her blushing glances. “Even if I could recall all of it, I’m not sure I’d tell you, Leigh. All I can say is the man deserved what he got.”

She swallowed. “But you don’t.”

“
You mean I don’t deserve this?” Her nipples kept snagging his attention. His crotch ached, the blood rushing to it.

“
Exactly. No man deserves this. I don’t know everything you go through, Grant. I only have guesses, but even those...You don’t deserve to live with such a...burden, er, responsibility.”

Oh, if she only knew what he did deserve, the wrongs he’d committed. She was his punishment. Wanting her and knowing he could never be the whole, honest, unbroken man she deserved. Her parted lips made his heart and body ache more. He stepped closer, telling himself he wouldn’t touch her. He just needed to feel the heat of her body near his. “What responsibility do you think I have?”

Her shuddering breath almost unraveled his resolve. “I...I don’t have the right words.”

“
It doesn’t matter. Leigh. I have so much to tell you and to ask you but I have no time. I just needed to see you to show you that I’m alive and, yes, in a bit of a mess.” To see that she wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster. Damn it, was that it? He’d come to see if she could forgive him for killing a man? He stared at her mouth, and watched her eyes. Yes. That was why he’d come. “I need to know you aren’t scared of me.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she shook her head. “No. Sure, you intimidated me a little at first, but now, I can’t imagine fearing you.”

Grant should have retreated. She’d told him what he needed to hear. He swore to her and to himself that he wouldn’t touch her again. His will dissolved under the power of one vulnerable look. He could lose himself in those emerald depths. “Leigh,” he breathed.

“
Grant?” she whispered.

“
I’ll never break another promise to you, Leigh, but right now, I’m powerless over what you do to me. I swore I’d stay away.” He blinked hard and pulled her by the waist to bend his head to hers, “But I can’t.”

She stroked his cheek. Leigh pressed the length of her body to his. Her breathing came in pants. She licked her lips, and her palms went to his chest. For a fleeting moment, he feared she would push him away. Instead, her hands roved over his pecs, his nipples grazed her palms. She squeezed. His deep groan broke the silence and made her eyes widen with wonder.

Her hands roved lower, lower. Curiosity shone in her gaze as it held to his. His body begged to feel her hand on his erection. Her mouth beckoned his with those full, dewy lips, but he didn’t want to break the spell. No. He didn’t want her hand to stop its downward travel.

She hesitated at his waist. She must be able to feel it there, hard against her belly, jerking as more blood rushed to it. A question showed in her eyes. Should she? God, yes. In answer, he let his hand travel up her rib cage and slowly cup one breast. He ran his thumb over the rigid nipple. She sucked a gulp of air in. Her pupils flashed. Another groan escaped him. His cock jerked, his balls tightened.

Her hand began to explore again. Lower, pausing at the waist of his pants. Would she dare go under rather than over? If she did, he might lose all control and seduce her to the end then and there. Time. The time! How much had passed. “Leigh,” he breathed, encouraging her with a press into her waist, massaging her breast.

Seeing the pleasure wash over her features was almost as erotic as the act itself. He pressed his thigh between both of hers. He pulled the tie at the top of her nightgown. The material gave way, just enough to show the creamy top of one globe. He dipped his hand inside. His groin ached. Leigh gasped, arching into his hand.

Her hand tugged the top of his pants open. Her eyes fluttered as her warm hand met his hot, aching flesh. Grant’s hips bucked. He couldn’t take much more. He couldn’t risk much more or stay much longer, but she felt like heaven. Her hand was so silky soft, and she touched him so gently. If he didn’t get his body under control, he might climax right there in her hand.

He pulled back and put a few inches of space between them.

“
Did I hurt you?”

“
No. God, no. The opposite. If I don’t stop you now, I won’t be able to stop at all.”

“
I don’t want you to.”

Again, he groaned. “I want you, Leigh. I want to see pleasure pour over you. I want to give you that pleasure. But, not here or now. Not like this.”

She wiped her face and ran both hands over her hair. “You’ve got me so flustered. I can barely think straight, Grant.”

He braced his hands on the nearby chair back. “I have to go back. Will you tell Beatrice not to worry? I don’t want her trying to have them turn me over to her or something like that. Whatever plans they have for me when we arrive, please help keep her out of it until it’s been decided.”

Decided sounded so final. So permanent. He had to remind himself and Leigh. “The charges are petty. It will be a hassle, but trust me, I’ve faced worse.”

“
Worse than murder?”

“
They don’t have evidence of murder. It won’t come to that.”

“
How can you be sure?”

“
No blood. I don’t know how, but there was no blood on me when they found me. Except my own.”

Leigh had a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. Her cheeks flushed. “The hair you shed was covered in blood.” Her eyes widened. “If they find the wolf hair....”

He shook his head. “They won’t. Even if they did, how could they link it to me?”

“
You joked with the officers.”

He had. Grant winced. Idiot. Why had he said that? Because he saw that the men were thinking that same thing. If he hadn’t joked, would they have pressed him harder for answers, or simply let the matter go? Where would the shed hair be? He could see Leigh’s fear escalating alongside his own. “I did joke with them. Not my most brilliant moment, clearly. But you have to trust that even if they found blood-covered hair, and even if they somehow linked it to me, in the few hours left until arrival, that the logical world most men live in will prevail.” He ran his fingers down her cheek. “You and I know that the real world is different. We’ve seen true evil. Most don’t.”

“
You’re right, of course.” She seemed preoccupied. “Worrying won’t help. I’ll make sure that Bea knows you’re safe. I think you should go.”

He didn’t know what to make of her strange expression or tone. Regardless, she was right. He should go. He didn’t know what else to say. He moved toward her, but she backed up and shook her head. Regrets that they’d let things happen again must be setting in. Grant swallowed against the lump in his throat and left without saying good-bye.

By the time he made it back to the infirmary, his guts were in knots over what he’d let happen, and how it would inevitably strain things further between him and Leigh. What had he been thinking? He’d stayed away from women, liquor, and every other habit of his days before Tristan’s disappearance. He’d controlled himself. Denied himself, no matter what. Yet this woman scattered his mind and his willpower.

He stepped through the infirmary door. The nurse stood up expectantly. Two men blocked her from view. The same two men had come to Beatrice’s suite to escort him and Nick out. The shorter of the two, the one who’d eyed Leigh’s excellent calves, held a sac aloft.

“
Mr. Connel, we’ve got some questions you’ll be answering. Now.”

***

“
Jacob, where have you been?” Leigh asked the shadow in the corner. It didn’t move. “Please, what’s wrong? I’ve been worried sick. Didn’t you feel me calling for you?”

She went to the corner and knelt. If only she could reach out and touch his shadowy form. Its transparency sent her alarm higher. No color at all. His energy was severely depleted—so much that he couldn’t communicate with her. How could she help? How did a person save or heal a ghost? She settled for talking, sitting close, and hoping he could somehow feed off of her, or feel that she loved him. “I think you’ve been guarding the wolf. Helping it.”

He was her childhood playmate, her confidant, her friend. He always kept her safe, and she’d taken him for granted. “I’ll be honest. I’m a little jealous. I never had to share you before. But if you need me to, I’ll learn how. If you can tell me anything at all, Jacob, please tell me what I can do to help.”

His shadowy form flickered a bit, solidified for a split second, then grew hazy again.

“
Bea’s friend, Eliza, joined us for brunch. One of her little girls has nightmares. It made me think of when I called for you that first time. Do you remember?” Nothing. Not even a flicker. She couldn’t even see his eyes. “I always wondered how Momma knew for me to ask for you. Maybe her mom told her? Or her dad? I wish I knew where dad was. He must be safe, wherever he is. I think you’d get a sense of him.” She tucked her knees up and set her chin atop one. She still hadn’t told Beatrice or Grant about her own nightmare featuring Tristan. It’d be easy to say she hadn’t found the right moment. Easy, but a lie. “I wonder what Momma is doing. I’m worried about her. It’s not that she doesn’t know how to take care of herself, and me included. I just hate being so worried for so long.”

The light of dawn crept into the room through the tiny curtained window. Their voyage ended soon, and within a week, perhaps ten days, she’d be facing her promise to Bea full force. Could she handle it? She’d mucked it all up nicely so far. She prayed she would find Tristan safe and whole and undamaged. Worrying might drain Jacob, though, so she pushed her dread and guilt down.