Blazing Bedtime Anthology Page 12

  If he did that, however, he couldn’t guarantee they’d end up at the castle. Because taking her by force was one step from claiming her altogether. His deepest impulses already screamed for him to carry her to his cabin, lock them both inside and have her until she acknowledged what he already knew.

  That she was his. Penny Mayfair, that beautiful, wild-haired, wild child, was the woman he wanted.

  He still couldn’t quite believe it, even though he’d always been told it would happen. That someday, he would meet a female he couldn’t do without. Like others of his kind, he would know her and would do anything to have her.

  It had nothing to do with love. It was simply the way he and those like him were made. Some believed every body contained only half a soul, that mates were simply the soul’s recognition of their other halves. Lucas had no idea whether that was true. He only knew he’d seen her, and he’d wanted her. Forever.

  It was that simple.

  There were a few sticky problems, however. He would be escorting her back to the homeland to be inspected for marriage. Oh, he knew Queen Verona would not allow Penny to wed her precious son. Lucas could deliver her, wait for the five minutes it took for the queen to faint in horror, then escort Penny out of the castle. Having completed the job he was hired to do, he would collect his payment—both gold and deed to some land the queen had offered to sweeten the deal—on his way out the door.

  Afterward? Anything. First, he’d take her on a trip throughout the land she’d been denied since childhood. Something told him she was going to like that world. Perhaps it was the rebelliousness she exhibited here, where she thought she was supposed to be, that told him she was unhappy. Or maybe it was simply a recognition of someone who, like him, was never entirely sure where she belonged. Part of one world, part of another.

  She might not stay.

  His mother hadn’t been able to stand being away from her old life. She’d chosen it over her Wolf husband. And Lucas.

  But Penny was different. She had been born over there. Elatyria was her home. Her birthright.

  What if she decides to claim the rest of her birthright?

  It was possible. She might decide to pursue her throne. The idea that a Wolf could end up with the Queen of Riverdale was almost as ridiculous as seeing Penny in the arms of that weak-kneed Ruprecht. But he’d deal with that when it happened.

  The churning thoughts filled the trip back to LeBeaux, and by the time Lucas reached Penny’s hometown, darkness had fully descended. Each hour had brought the full moon—that enormous full moon—higher in the sky. The night wasn’t entirely clear and the white-gold orb was occasionally blocked by swathes of misty clouds as long and silky as great sheets of black cloth. Whenever its light was extinguished, he felt the loss on every inch of his skin, each strand of his hair, right down to his core.

  Just as everything else was bigger over here, including time itself, the moon seemed double its usual size. It consumed half the heavens, quietly powerful and mysterious, a silent answer to his own body’s cry for recognition.

  Maybe this world wasn’t all bad.

  Though he knew the princess’s address, instead of heading to her house, which he’d located this morning, he swung by the diner. Smart move, as it turned out. A quick glance confirmed she was closing the empty restaurant for the night.

  “Long day, your majesty?” he murmured, watching from up the block as she and an older woman stood chatting outside. They were both softly silhouetted beneath a streetlight on the corner.

  All the other shops around them were closed and dark. That wasn’t surprising, given the hour. This area of town boasted mostly small, dusty businesses and a few residences. The two people in front of the diner were the only ones in sight.

  But they weren’t alone. Oh, no. A predator was in the vicinity.

  Lucas wasn’t referring to himself.

  He tensed, his heart pounding within his chest. Though his breaths remained even, they deepened, filling his lungs as if in preparation for some fierce exertion. Beneath his taut skin, his muscles tightened and flexed, instinctively readying for conflict. His fingers clenched tightly around the handlebars of his Harley, until the thick pads dug into his palms. He released them and curled his hands into two tight fists.

  Why? What is it? What’s wrong?

  He remained still, so still. His acute hearing picked up the soft murmur of the women’s voices. He heard nothing else.

  It didn’t matter. He sensed the presence. Hell, maybe he just smelled something dark, ugly and malevolent.

  He slowly stepped off the bike, moving silently into the shadow of a nearby shop. He walked lightly, not wanting even the sound of the heels of his boots hitting the sidewalk to betray his proximity. Then, tucked safely out of sight, he froze, remaining motionless. Waiting.

  Their conversation carried to his hypersensitive ears.

  “Goodnight, Penny. Thanks again for working a double shift. Sorry you couldn’t run off with that sexy guy this morning.”

  “Run off?” Penny said with a grunt. “You have no idea.”

  “Well, if you get the chance again, you go for it,” the other woman said, reaching out and touching Penny with what appeared to be a tender hand. “I know you haven’t been happy since you came back here. As much as I love having you around, please don’t feel like you need to stay because of me.”

  “Here’s as good as anywhere,” Penny replied, sounding wistful, resigned. Which merely cemented what he already suspected about her feelings for her homeland.

  You don’t belong.

  “Besides, you’re here.” Though it didn’t seem like something that came naturally to her, Penny put her arms around the other woman’s shoulders and hugged. She just as quickly stepped back. “And you need me. Who else is going to haul your butt out of the fire when Gina calls in sick?”

  “She’s going to have to grow up one of these days.”

  The princess smiled. She looked younger now, softer in the darkness without the sun spotlighting the thick, unnatural makeup. “Keep dreaming.”

  The women exchanged goodnights, then separated, heading in different directions. As she walked, Penny rubbed the back of her neck with one slim hand. The slump in her shoulders and the trudge of her feet told him she was exhausted. Not paying close enough attention to her surroundings.

  Obviously she didn’t notice him, though he felt sure his heated stare must be burning her from a block away.

  Knowing the danger was directed at Penny, not at her coworker, who’d walked off the other way, Lucas followed the princess. He remained on the opposite side of the street, hugging the buildings and the shadows and the silence. At one with the night.

  As she left the puddle of light from the streetlamp behind her, Penny was completely swallowed by darkness. The next streetlight wasn’t working.

  Coincidence? Possible. But he doubted it.

  The full moon played a game of hide-and-seek with the thick clouds that had followed him steadily from the west, so even it wasn’t able to provide much illumination. Yet he saw her, heard the soft scrape of her rubber-soled shoes on the sidewalk. If he stood still and concentrated all his attention on it, he thought he might even be able to hear the beating of her heart.

  He also smelled the light, flowery scent—feminine, and at odds with her tough-girl appearance—wafting from her skin. Just as he’d smelled the wanton need arising from her this morning.

  She lived a few streets away and apparently assumed this town was a safe one. She seemed fearless as she walked home, alone, late at night, without a care in the world beyond the pain in her tired feet and aching arms.

  You’re not safe. The words screamed in his head yet didn’t emerge from his vocal cords.

  A second later, he was proved right. He spotted a movement in the shadows ahead of her. Five, seven paces, no more.

  The danger. The presence he’d sensed stalking her waited directly in Penny’s path.

  Lucas didn’t think
, didn’t shout, didn’t do anything except run, silent, furious, afraid for her. His feet nearly flew over the street even as rage clouded his vision and grabbed him in its blind, ruthless grip.

  But he didn’t make it. Even at his fastest, he still wasn’t quick enough to stop Penny from being grabbed and violently hurled to the ground.

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN one long, miserable day. Nonstop customers and nonstop drama had led to a nonstop headache. By the time ten o’clock had rolled around, Penny had wanted nothing more than a steamy-hot shower and an icy-cold beer, both of which awaited her at her small house a few blocks away.

  The attack came out of nowhere. She had been oblivious to any threat. Entirely comfortable back here in LeBeaux, she hadn’t foreseen the dangers she would have routinely guarded against in New York or Chicago. She had simply meandered into the path of trouble. And between one step and the next, she found it.

  “No,” she cried as a dark shape hurtled from between two buildings, launching itself at her. Her assailant tackled her to the ground. She cried out as her shoulder hit the cement hard and his big form hit her even harder, covering her, pinning her.

  He grabbed a fistful of her short hair and twisted, slamming her head down. Pain rocketed through her, but she didn’t waste any breath trying to scream. Instead, she reacted instinctively. Operating purely on adrenaline, she fought back as if her life depended on it.

  Which it might.

  “Let me go!” Penny curved her fingers into talons and tried to rake her attacker’s face, which she couldn’t make out in the darkness. Drawing her knee up as quickly as she could, she aimed for his groin, knowing she’d hit home when he grunted in pain.

  “Bitch,” he said in a hoarse whisper, obviously trying to disguise his voice. But it didn’t matter. The reek of booze and the rank smell of his breath told her immediately who had attacked her. It was Frank, the grabby oilfield roughneck who’d come in with Eddie this morning. He obviously hadn’t gone back out into the field, instead lurking here, lying in wait to finish what he’d started this morning.

  “Let me go.” She tried to wriggle away, hoping she’d hurt him enough to gain a few seconds head start, but his fingers clenched painfully around her arms.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “No, but you are,” someone else snarled. Frank was lifted off her with abrupt, brute force. “You’re a dead man!”

  Penny rolled out of the way, looking up in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar profile.

  Lucas Wolf. The stranger who had so affected her this morning had come to her rescue, grabbing her attacker by the throat. He shook the man, holding onto the front of a flannel shirt and slamming his fist into the bastard’s face. Frank had been caught by surprise, but quickly regained himself. He tried to fight back, swinging wildly, something glittering in his hand.

  “Watch out, I think he has a knife,” she called.

  Another blow from Lucas’s fist and the glittering thing went flying to shatter against the ground. Broken glass.

  A car exited a nearby alley, briefly illuminating the scene in its harsh headlights. Just a flash, then it was gone, speeding away.

  But that quick glimpse was enough to stop Penny’s heart. Given what she saw in that flash of headlights, she had to remind herself to breathe, not believing what her eyes were telling her.

  It had to have been a reflection of the car’s hazard lights that made Lucas’s eyes glow red. Or else she’d taken a harder blow to the head than she’d thought.

  But there was one thing she wasn’t imagining. Lucas’s long, thick hair hung down around his face, which was grizzled and dark with a new-grown beard. And his lips were pulled back in a grimace, revealing sharp, white teeth as he audibly growled at the man with whom he fought. His expression defined fury.

  The encounter was over within another minute. Despite landing a punch on Lucas’s face, Frank soon realized he was far outmatched, dealing with an opponent who looked driven by pure bloodlust. After a blow sent Frank spinning several feet, he took advantage of the distance and took off at a dead run.

  Lucas took a step, hunched forward, his powerful body leaning as if he planned to run the other man down like a hunter after fleeing prey. Then he hesitated and looked back at her.

  Penny was still on the ground. A little dazed, a lot stunned. And she’d probably have one hell of a headache tomorrow. Not from the blow to the head, but because she intended to go home and have a few shots of tequila to wipe out the crazy thoughts that had been going through her mind for the past few minutes.

  Thoughts about those reddish eyes and that snarl on his face. The way Lucas Wolf had looked almost feral. The long, wild hair. But the strangest thought of all? That she wasn’t afraid. Not for herself, anyway.

  Lucas’s rage seemed to ease as he let the stranger go and hunched down beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, his tone gruff, yet laced with concern.

  Penny simply stared.

  “Princess?”

  “Jeez, would you lay off the Princess stuff? Call me Penny, okay?” Realizing she sounded like a flaming bitch, not exactly the appropriate reaction to someone who’d probably saved her from a serious assault, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m a little shaken up.”

  He didn’t give her a moment’s warning before he scooped her up into his arms, rising to his feet and cradling her against his chest. He acted as though she weighed no more than a baby.

  “Hey, what are you…”

  “The hospital or your house?”

  She stared up at that rugged face, but couldn’t see him well in the darkness. She wanted to glimpse the gold in those brown eyes, and a ghost of a smile on his sensual mouth. But the eyes shone black in the night and his mouth was compressed and hard. Despite the care he was taking of her, anger still enveloped the man.

  “Penny? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

  Finally realizing he was waiting for her to make a decision, she shook her head once.

  “What about your head?”

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled, lifting a hand to touch the small lump already rising behind her ear. Her fingers came away flecked with a small amount of moisture. Blood. Oh God.

  Her head started to spin. She hated the sight of blood. Hated the smell of it. The feel of it. Hated anything to do with it. It was her one weakness.

  And suddenly, like some vapid heroine in an old movie, her eyes drifted closed and she felt herself sag heavier in his arms. She came within a breath of fainting, but somehow, when he clutched her even tighter and she felt the strong, steady, reassuring beat of his heart, she didn’t do it.

  “Hospital,” he snapped.

  “No, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I’m not badly hurt. Just a little stunned.” The fact that she hadn’t eaten a thing today didn’t help.

  Nor did the thought that she’d seen this man’s eyes glowing red a few minutes ago.

  She swallowed. “The truth is, I get really woozy at the sight of blood.”

  “Then you’d better close your eyes again,” he muttered.

  But he didn’t say it soon enough. The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, and she suddenly got a better look at the man holding her so carefully in his massive arms. At the abrasions on one cheek. At the trail of blood dripping freely from the cheekbone down, likely nicked by broken glass.

  This time, there was no stopping it. Darkness clouded her vision and that sense of dizziness she’d been fighting washed over her completely. It took away thought and fear and reason.

  And consciousness.

  CHAPTER 4

  ONE OF THE FIRST things he was going to do once Princess Penelope regained consciousness was lecture her about her security. Even with her in his arms, his single kick had busted the flimsy lock on her front door. Prowling around the house—after he’d lain her on her bed—he’d found the window in the bathroom unlocked. Not that her window locks were of much use, anyway.
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  She didn’t have a single weapon, as far as he could tell. If she had to defend herself, the best she could do was to grab one of the dusty, unused frying pans from the kitchen.

  “Do you have any sense of self-preservation?” he asked her still form.

  Lucas glanced toward the bed, then back into her bathroom mirror as he scraped a flimsy plastic razor over his cheek. It wouldn’t do for long, given the full moon, but he didn’t want to scare the woman to death the minute she opened her eyes and noticed that his beard had grown a couple of inches from this morning. A half inch of that since he’d rescued her.

  Adrenaline, the chase, the fight…they sped things up.

  “If he had been smarter, the bastard could have been here, inside, waiting for you to get home.”

  The thought made that roiling surge of anger rise in him again, but he quickly shoved it away. He’d deal with the attacker later. Lucas had his scent. The man wouldn’t be able to hide from Lucas’s rage no matter which side of the border he was on.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Finally.” Dropping the razor, he approached the bed. As he stared down at her, he noted the color in her cheeks. When he’d wet a cloth to clean her cut, he’d also taken a minute to wash all the makeup—not to mention dirt and gravel—off her face.

  She was, as he’d expected, beyond beautiful.

  He wondered if she even realized it. If the clothes, the makeup, the attitude, were all because she didn’t care how she looked, or because she did care and didn’t want anyone else to realize how striking she truly was.

  He suspected the latter. She’d been hiding in plain sight.

  She blinked a few times. “How long have I been out?”

  “Minutes. Ten at most.”

  She shifted and slowly sat up, looking at him with frank disbelief. “And in ten minutes, you carried me three blocks home, broke into my house, put me to bed, then had time for a shave?”

  He answered with a shrug. Because, yes, that’s what had happened. Her slight weight hadn’t slowed him down.

  Penny continued to stare up at him. The confusion slowly left her face, and color entered it as her gaze grew more intimate. She parted her lips to breathe and the pulse in her throat, which he could see—and almost hear—fluttered.