Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6 Read online

  She quickly retracted the blade. Home? She couldn’t bear to admit she didn’t have one right now. “No. No thanks.”

  He eyed her curiously, then nodded. “Stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow, same time, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be here. ’Bye, Rob!” She put on a false smile, then forced her body to turn and walk down the street.

  The idea of half-sleeping in the bathroom at Walmart again twisted her gut into a queasy nasty mess. Every time the door opened, she’d jump and flush the toilet she’d been sleeping on. Sometimes she’d have to leave when the cleaning crew came, but so far, no one suspected that she was actually using the place as a slum. That wouldn’t last much longer. It didn’t help that she’d made barely a hundred bucks in the week she’d been working at Rob’s coffee shop.

  The storm loomed overhead still. Streaks of puffy clouds growled and rumbled. The scent of unfallen rain teased her nose. Before long, she’d be walking in the rain. She quickened her pace. She still had a good fifteen blocks to go to get to Walmart. At the next intersection, she stopped and waited to get her signal to cross when a black SUV pulled up in front of her. Panic flared fast. She pressed the button on her switchblade as every muscle in her body tightened, readied. I’ll be ready this time. The darkly tinted windows didn’t allow her to see inside. Even the pale yellow streetlight offered no help. The hairs on the back of her neck shot straight up, then the window lowered with a whirr of the mechanism working.

  Her muscles relaxed in an instant. A wobbly laugh escaped and she retracted the blade deftly before pocketing it again. “I guess you found me.” Why did she feel so happy at seeing Brayden? It had to be the idea of safety he gave her. Whether imagined, real or not, she felt it around him.

  “Of course, I did. I’m a great tracker. Or did you forget?” A bolt of lightning pierced the sky followed by a cracking explosion of thunder that made her jump. “Get in the car.”

  She was about to turn down the offer when the sky split open and wet fat droplets pelted down on her. “Yeah, okay.” She hopped into the big SUV and grimaced. It was the same one he’d dragged her into after she’d tried to run away from her Kategan cousins pack. She’d realized that no matter how much Vane wanted to help her, he was still going to turn her over to her father. So she’d tried to flee. Yeah, that hadn’t turned out quite as she’d planned. Dmetri and Brayden had been there as if they knew her plan in intimate detail. The bastards.

  He pulled away from the curb and took off down the rain-slicked street. “Where are you staying?”

  Yeah, she so wasn’t going there with him. “How’d you find me?” she countered.

  She watched him drive from the corner of her eye. He took the turns easily, pressing the accelerator and brakes smoothly when needed, never once jarring her in her seat. He kept both hands on the wheel in the perfect ten and two positions—textbook driving. Hell, everything about him was textbook. It was ingrained in everything he did—controlled, by the book. Or, rather, by the law with him.

  She wondered what it would take, what he would be like if she broke that control, snapped it like a piece of thread. A pulse throbbed deep inside her, a lick of heat. She stilled at the sensual feeling and looked away so he wouldn’t see the shock on her face. A tumultuous smile trembled on her lips and she fingered it idly. She hadn’t had a thought like that...a thought like she used to have in a long time. She wanted to laugh; wanted to throw her arms around someone and dance. For the first time since she left Joseph, she knew that she wasn’t broken.

  “You should know I’m a great tracker. Your scent is easy to find.”

  That got her attention. She smiled big but didn’t care, because it felt so good. “Oh, do you like it?” She hadn’t meant to ask it, but her happiness in the moment had swept her up, lowered her inhibitions.

  He hit the brakes at a red light and she went diving forward in her seat, only the seatbelt keeping her from hitting the dashboard face first. She glared at him, but he kept his face forward, head half hidden in the shadows of the car. “What are you doing in Chicago?”

  She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut as a sharp pain began throbbing in her temple and somewhere in the back of her eyes. “Working.”

  “At a coffee shop?” His obvious disbelief made her laugh. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was, how poignant.

  “Yes, at a coffee shop.” God, it felt so good to talk to someone she knew. Well, in this case, ‘knew’ was a relative term, but still. Someone who wouldn’t hurt her. Plus, he was easy on the eyes. Not every man was built like that, with an athletic grace that showed in the simplest movements, like walking. It gave a girl ideas.

  He pulled onto the highway and rain pelted the window like little firecrackers. “Vanessa, no one leaves their home, their state, to work at a college coffee shop in mid-Chicago. Tell me what’s really going on.”

  His words cut through her like a silken blade. “I can’t do that.” Her smile died.

  “If you don’t, then I’m calling Vane. I have a good feeling he doesn’t know you’re here.”

  She turned to him in her seat, her mouth threatening to drop open. “Excuse me? I’m not a kid anymore. He’s not my father and this doesn’t concern him. Hell, it doesn’t even concern you.”

  “It does now,” he said with such authority she clenched her hands into fists until her biceps started to burn with sweet pain.

  “You do not control me,” she said in a soft voice.

  The car slowed as they pulled onto a dirt path. He shot her a look, his lips pulled down into a frown. “I know that, and I’m not trying to. What’s going on?”

  Vanessa crossed her arms and stared at the dirt path sweeping by them, at the rows of trees encasing either side of the rode. She debated her options and still had no clue which choice was the right one. A thought struck her. “What do I get if I tell you?”

  A sound, almost like a laugh, escaped him. “How about a safe place to sleep?”

  She almost moaned at the thought of sleeping on a bed in a house. Safe, without any worries. She didn’t think on it long. “Deal.”

  He pulled off the main dirt road to a paved street that circled around. A large white house stood at the opposite end; the fancy circular driveway looked like it’d be easy to come and go. She didn’t know why his house surprised her, but it did. It wasn’t anything she’d ever contemplated before. But now, she couldn’t help but feel surprised. The house was two stories and very square and very white. Staring at it, the words simple and clean came to mind. That and windows were everywhere. Very tall, imposing windows that lined the front of the house and even up on the second floor. It looked like the kind of house that belonged on a beachfront property, not hidden back in the woods on the outskirts of Chicago.

  “Is this your place?”

  He pulled the SUV into a garage port on the right side of the house and cut the engine. “Yes.”

  The stream of rain pinged off the roof of the garage like rubber balls bouncing up and down. A skitter of awareness flashed through her. She was sitting next to a powerful, strong man in the dark. His eyes stayed forward, hers locked wide, alert on his face. She could see the deft angle of his chin, the hard line of his jaw which held the beginning growth of a beard. The hair on his chin and jaw held a reddish tint, or maybe it was just the moonlight reflecting off something in the garage that played games with her eyes. He looked the same from when she last saw him, yet now when she looked at him, she had different thoughts. Like how she wanted to crawl into his lap and press her lips against the hard line of his jaw.

  “I wouldn’t have pictured this.”

  “Really. What else did you have in mind?” he asked in a voice that teetered on bored.

  “A big, manly-type log cabin.” She couldn’t help but grin.

  He shook his head, sending her a contemptuous look. “Lykaens,” he muttered, then got out of the car.

  She heard the sound of pouring rain much louder outside. She tossed her satchel of
goods over her shoulder and tightened her fist around it. Rain was so innocent, yet every time it did rain, it became a battle not to let it touch you, not to let it win. While she was bouncing on her toes and tracing the nearest door to his house with her eyes, ready to make a sprint for it, he stood at the edge of the garage calmly.

  “Come on; we finish this inside.”

  Whether it was the rain that sprayed inside the garage splashing against the bare skin of her arms or the deep, almost wicked, tone to his voice, she shivered and followed him. She was drenched by time they made it inside. Not from the rain outside which one could hardly call a downpour or ‘torrential,’ but because he’d chosen to take his fine time getting to the front door. For such a stiff man, he didn’t mind getting his suit drenched. Inside the house, he flipped on the light switch and a variety of lights flickered on throughout the first floor. To the left was a living area with white couches and a glossy black table sitting between them. Around the room were plants in sleek black, bronze, and opal white vases. They even looked real. Vanessa couldn’t believe this place. This looked like the home of a sleek business tycoon...or a serial killer.

  She didn’t get a chance to check the rest of the place out because he cleared his throat which snapped her attention to him.

  “Hmm? Did you say something?” Her chest tightened at those striking eyes. It was almost unsettling; it gave her the urge to turn away and not stare for long, lest he learn every flaw and problem she had. He might be able to do that anyway, without the help of any possible psychic ability. He was smart, after all.

  “Come on. You can take a shower and then you’re going to tell me everything. And I do mean everything, Vanessa.” He stared at her, flat-lipped until she indulged him with a nod. Still, a shiver raced down her spine and not from her wet clothes. Appeased, he made his way up the stairs made of a yellowish wood that shone under the modern chandelier in the foyer. Their wet shoes squished and sloshed uncomfortably loudly in the quiet house. Even a small echo of it sounded from the top floor, which veered off left and right. He took her to a room at the far right and flipped on the light. The room looked like an unused spare bedroom. A normal bed with, not surprisingly, a white comforter on top matched the five-drawer white dresser with an oval mirror above it in a golden frame.

  “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done,” he said. The order sounding very much like a command.

  Chapter 4

  The door shut behind her and Vanessa could only stand there in the quiet, unfamiliar surroundings and try to orient herself. The room smelled clean, like Pine-Sol. The floors were wood and also shined like everything else in the house. She was leaning closer to serial killer now, than tycoon. She laughed, and it felt so good that she did it again just for the fun of it. She paused after, a silly smile on her face, but no one charged into the room. No asshole stood and loomed over her with fists ready to pummel.

  In the bathroom, she let out a low whistle. “Seriously, this is the guest bathroom?” Talk about nice.

  Tiled floor in a white stone material which also matched the walls. The double-wide sink sent her brows flying high. The bowl for it was clear like glass and rose up from the bureau. The handles were thin little squares that turned toward her to get hot or cold, and the water spilled out straight from a rectangular nozzle into the clear bowl before draining down. She whistled again.

  “Fancy schmancy.” The sink at Joseph’s had a chip in it and a line of rust around the drain. Not so pretty.

  A chill swept through her so she pulled off her wet clothes and let them drop into a wet pile on the floor. The shower was square and see-through with a door that opened. Inside was a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, even a disposable razor with the cap still covering it. Did he have women stay here? Was this room for his special ‘dates’? She laughed at the thought, but the sting, surprisingly of jealousy, stabbed her heart. She washed her hair and body and got out of the shower, trodding wetly across the floor to the bathroom cabinet for a towel.

  Maybe coming across Brayden was a good thing. Maybe he was just the person to help her. Her pride protested the idea of accepting help from someone, a man even, but things were more important now than her pride. She’d escaped from that asshole and she wasn’t going back, no matter what. She’d planned her escape for too long to let it go wrong now. She was going to do all the things she’d dreamt about—and there had been a lot of dreams—in the past two years. She planned to do every single one of those dreams. She pulled her brush through her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror.

  What did he see? He, the man who’d taunted her dreams at night—and even some during the day—ever since she’d met him. Maybe he’d thought of her, too. She combed her wet hair until it hung sleek and heavy around her shoulders to dry. A frown curled her mouth down as she checked her body out from the front, side and back. She hated her body. Okay, hate was too strong of a word. She’d always dreamt of having some kind of luscious goddess-like body that’d have men wiping drool off their faces when they saw her. Instead, she was near stick thin, with hips that didn’t want to curve out, but preferred their nearly straight up and down line. And the breasts? Too small for even a push up bra. And, Lord knows, she’d tried. The push up bras made her look desperate to show off her little A cups.

  Before her mother had left her father, back when she was almost ten, she remembered her mother’s words. Her words were some of the only things she could remember, that and little snippets of doing meaningless things with her mother, like cooking dinner together. Vanessa felt her eyes wetting and slammed them shut. She wasn’t angry at her mother anymore; okay, not that angry. She’d left because of dad and she got that. Totally. Though little her still jumped up and down screaming, “Why didn’t you take me!”

  She shoved her mother’s memory way far down in her psyche, into the dark place of shit she didn’t like to think about. It didn’t matter anyway. It was over. She hadn’t seen her since she left and she never wanted to. It’d bring up all those emotions she’d long buried. Besides, a part of her really did understand why she did it and why she had to leave her there. Without a proper divorce, which dad would never give her, she couldn’t legally take her away from him. He could’ve had her arrested for kidnapping and sent her to the Justicar’s jail. Not good.

  Still, she remembered a time when she was young, sitting on her mom’s toilet watching her get ready to go out. She had a nice dress on with a pair of black heels that looked womanly and grown up. She put her makeup on and fluffed her hair with the blow dryer, then she turned sideways and placed a hand to her stomach.

  “You know, it doesn’t matter. Women are just never happy with how they look.”

  “Why not? You’re beautiful, momma.”

  She’d turned and smiled. “Why, thank you, baby. I don’t know; it’s just the bane of women, I suppose. Maybe some women can just be happy with what they got, but I never can. It’s either too much this, or too little that. You know?”

  She didn’t know then, but now she did. Vanessa looked at her twenty-year old face in the mirror and saw tears swimming down her cheeks. She laughed softly and wiped them away with a towel.

  “You were right, Mom,” she said and killed the bathroom lights.

  Vanessa found a bunch of men’s plain clothing in the bureau, but decided to use her last of the spare clothes from her bag. All she had left was one clean pair of undies, socks, a T-shirt, and some jeans. At least, he’d have a washer and dryer here. She’d been using the coin machines downtown and the place always made her skin crawl with the yellowing linoleum floors and twitchy, dirty people that lingered around there reeking of alcohol and other things. Things like that didn’t use to bother her, even when she’d run away from home. While that was only two years ago, it felt more like ten. She’d done a lot of growing up under Joseph’s rule. God, she didn’t want to think about him or his pack. With a brisk shake of her head, she toed on her flat sneakers and made her way downstairs wearing
a clean pair of jeans with tears in the knees and a fitted tee.

  The smell of breakfast foods teased her nostrils: cooked buttery eggs and fried bacon. She practically ran into the kitchen. Her mouth opened and brows went high at the sight of the tall, freshly showered Brayden, cooking breakfast. The kitchen looked like something from a five-star chef’s house; all stainless steel appliances and even a double oven. Every piece of equipment, from the coffee maker to the digital touch buttons on the stove’s range, gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

  “Why do you have such a nice kitchen, when you don’t eat?” She forced herself to make normal conversation and not mention how absolutely yummy he looked.

  His head lifted to hers and her breath caught, her entire body tightening with alertness. His hair was still wet and lay atop his head in wet curls. He’d shaved, and while she almost missed the sight of the short stubbles, now his jaw was hard and smooth. She wanted to run her hand across it to feel just how soft, how smooth...or maybe use her lips.

  She’d once had a little fantasy that she’d replay over and over again. They’d be talking, well, fighting more like, and then she’d say something that’d make him snap. Sort of how their little fight happened in front of Vane’s place when she’d run away to there. Back then, he’d been mean and cruel, telling her to ‘learn her place’, and blah, blah, blah. She’d been young and it hurt her feelings. But later, after living under Joseph’s rule, a new fantasy had sprung. She’d fight with Brayden over something ridiculous—usually her being ridiculous—then he’d snap and crush her to him, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that made her belly pull tight and her breasts ache. He’d tell her all sorts of wicked things in that deep, deep voice of his. How beautiful she was, how much he wanted her. Sometimes, if she got to dream long enough, she’d get to the part where he finally put his hand down her pants.

  “It’d raise questions if I had a house built without a kitchen. Besides, though I find company rare, it does help to have a kitchen, in case. Take a seat.” She jerked from her naughty thoughts and felt a blush flood her cheeks.