Circle of Desire

Chapter Eleven

"The least you could do is get me a wet cloth to clean her face with." Ethan's tone was brusque, and seemed to be coming from a great distance.

"No one is doing anything until the sheriff gets here."

The second voice was harsh and low and filled with so much anger it quivered. But it was a voice Kat recognized. It was the home owner who'd tried to shoot her. The father of the little girl the soul sucker had taken.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to get her bearings. She was still lying on the floor, but she was no longer in the hall. Her head was cradled on muscular thighs, and warm fingers touched her cheek, gently caressing. There was so much pain in her head it felt like her brain was about to explode, and the same could be said for the air, which was sharp with anger and tension.

She tilted her head and met Ethan's gaze. "You're here."

She hadn't expected him to be. She'd thought he'd be chasing the soul sucker.

"I am." There was concern in his voice, but the fury she could feel in the air was visible in his nut-brown eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. What about the Mara?"

"Gone with the kid."

She struggled to rise. "We have to go after them — " Ethan put a hand on her shoulder, but it was the sound of a rifle being loaded that made her freeze.

"We're being held at gunpoint in the living room by the father and the oldest son," he explained, voice clipped.

"The sheriff has been called."

Her gaze met his again. "Have you told them you're a cop?"

"Yeah," he said dryly. "They aren't buying it."

"You showed them your badge?"

"They're not buying that, either. And they took my gun."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you let them?"

He hesitated. Something flashed in his eyes. "They had a gun to your head. I had no choice."

"Ah." She was tempted to ask why that had stopped him, but she knew the answer would be anything other than an admission of caring. "Is there a football hanging off the side of my head? It feels like it."

A smile touched his mouth and did strange things to her pulse. "It's more like a golf ball." His fingers moved from her cheek to her head, gently probing her scalp just above the temple. "Nasty looking, but there's no cut."

"Good." She'd had more than her fair share of cuts already on this case. She raised a hand, touching his stubble-lined cheek. "We'll find her. Before the three days are up, we'll find her."

Just for a moment, his anger and fear and torment surrounded her, strong enough to almost taste. Then it shut down, as he shut down emotionally, until all that was left was his cop face. "Don't promise." His voice, though soft, was harsh. "Because promises like that are almost never kept."

"Mine will be."

"Don't." The sound of sirens touched the air, and he asked, "You up to trying to track down the Mara's scent once the sheriff releases us?"

She nodded and couldn't help wincing in pain. "Don't suppose anyone would give me a pain killer?"

Silence greeted her request. If it wasn't for the heavy breathing, she might have thought Ethan and she were alone in the room. She certainly couldn't see anyone else from where she was lying.

The sheriff and his men arrived about five minutes later.

The big man's gaze swept the room, hesitated on them briefly, then moved on. "Jesus, Frank, put the gun down.

What in hell do you think you're doing?"

"Kathy's gone." The home owner's voice was defiant.

Shaky. "And these two know about it. They broke into my house — " "These two are part of a special task force trying to stop the kidnappings. Deputies, grab those damn rifles." The sheriff strode toward them. "You two okay?"

Kat nodded and sat up with Ethan's help. "Do you mind if we look around? There's still a chance we can find the kidnapper's trail."

"Sure. Just come back and give me a full report. I particularly want to know why you didn't call for help."

She nodded again and tried to ignore the pounding ache in her head. She needed pain killers and rest, and she wasn't likely to get either of those any time soon. Ethan helped her rise and kept hold of one hand as he led her past the white-faced trio near the hall door. His fingers felt good against hers, warm and strong.

He stopped near the little girl's bedroom. "Is this where you were knocked unconscious?"

She nodded, then took a deep breath and completely lowered her shields, seeking whatever emotions might lie in the hall. Death was a slither of darkness staining the air. She couldn't feel anything from the little girl, but then, she wouldn't. Not until Kathy was dying.

"This way," she said, untangling her fingers from his.

She followed the trail through the kitchen and out the back door. The dogs barked, but someone had chained them, and they were no longer a threat.

Rain began to fall, big fat drops that hit with the intensity of hail. Overhead, thunder rumbled. If the heavens opened up, she'd lose the scent completely. She hurried across the yard and leapt the fence. The storm hit as they entered the trees, and within minutes, the thread of evil had evaporated. She stopped, cursing long and loud.

"I'm gathering you've lost it," Ethan said, amusement momentarily warming the frustrated anger still evident in his voice.

She nodded and rubbed her arms as she studied the trees above them. "Where exactly was that cabin you found?"

"To the north."

He took off his coat and placed it over the top of hers.

Heat rushed through her, as if the warmth of his body had infused his coat and now transferred it to her. Or maybe it was just the scent of him lingering on the thick leather that warmed her senses.

"You think that's where they might be headed?" he continued, catching the ends of the coat and tugging her closer.

She was too aware of his nearness, too aware of the fingers brushing her stomach as he zipped up the coat, to do anything but nod.

"How safe is it to be investigating that cabin at night?"

His gaze met hers, and deep in the brown depths, hunger stirred.

It echoed through her. She might be angry at his continuing insistence that they could be nothing more than a moment, but right now, she was more than ready to enjoy one of those moments — pounding headache, aching cold and all.

She licked the rain from her lips, saw his gaze leap down.

"Not very. It's better to wait until dawn, when they're less active."

"Then we wait." He lowered his mouth to hers, his kiss a gentle explosion of heat that ended far too soon. "But for now, let's get out of this rain."

The promises in his eyes made her every nerve ending tingle, and for a moment, she found it difficult to even breathe. "The sheriff wants an explanation," she somehow said.

He touched a hand to her cheek. Desire slithered through her and pooled deep in her abdomen.

"The sheriff is going to get the shortest explanation in history." His voice was a smoky whisper that made her body thrum. "You need to get back to the cabin and tend to that headache."

She raised her eyebrows. "How do you know I've got a headache?"

"I can see it in your eyes." He kissed her forehead then twined his fingers in hers. The grin that touched his lips was sexy enough to curl her toes. "Of course, once we've tended to the headache and got you warm again, we just might be able to do something about that other ache."

"I hope so," she said. "I certainly hope so."

However much they might have wanted to provide the shortest explanation in history, the sheriff certainly wasn't about to let them get away with it. It was nearly an hour before they made their escape. Kat closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. They'd given her some pain killers, and her headache had eased to a muted thumping. Bearable, but still not pleasant.

She had a suspicion, however, that a decent cup of coffee, something to eat, and a good hour or so of loving might take away the rest of the ache.

The storm raged, making conversation almost impossible as they drove back to the cabin. Not that she minded.

There was a certain intimacy in sitting here, cocooned in warmth, the sound of rain pounding on the car's roof mingling with the swish of wipers. And Ethan caressing her thigh as he drove, warming her more thoroughly than any car heater ever could.

She was almost disappointed when the car slowed and he moved his hand to change gears. She opened her eyes to discover they were back at the cabins.

"If those lights are anything to go by, you're grandmother's still awake," he said. "You want to go in and give her an update?"

"We'd better." If they didn't, she'd just come in to see them. "Besides, she might have heard from Seline while we were out."

They got out of the car and raced for the door. Gwen opened it as they neared, and heat and warmth rushed out at them.

"Lit the fire in your cabin, too," she said. "Thought you might appreciate it."

"Thanks." Kat took off the two jackets and hung them over the chair to dry. "You heard anything from Seline yet?"

"They found some text that looks promising. She hopes to have it transcribed by morning." Gwen's gaze narrowed slightly. "I'm gathering the Mara got away again?"

Kat nodded and held out her hands to the fire. "With the kid, unfortunately. The farmer's son took me out before I had a chance to follow it."

Gwen looked at Ethan. "And you had no chance of following it?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't even smell it, let alone see it."

"So the Mara is invisible even when it's holding the kid?"

Kat turned and warmed her rear-end. "The kid was invisible, too. I didn't feel any sort of psychic shield, so it has to be some form of magic."

"Psychic shield?" Ethan asked as he stripped off his wet shirt.

Kat tried not to stare at all the lean muscle on show, then gave it up when she realized her grandmother was openly enjoying the view, and Ethan didn't seem to care.

"Many vampires have the ability to touch your mind and make you think they disappear into shadow," she said.

"But the reality is, your brain simply stops seeing them."

"So is this Mara some form of vampire, or a spirit?"

"It could be both." Gwen disappeared into the bathroom and came back with towels she tossed to both of them.

"So, we — or you — try to hunt down this thing in the morning."

Kat nodded. "We'll start with that cabin Ethan found. The zombies have to be guarding something."

"It could just be a trap," Ethan said.

"The only way to know if it's a trap is to spring it."

Gwen's voice was grim. "You two had better go get something to eat, then grab some sleep. I've got a feeling it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

But hopefully, in the end, a more successful one than today, Kat thought. "Have you eaten?"

"Yep. I'll stay here and work on zombie deterrents." She hesitated, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she added, "With the all the noise of the storm and such, I'm not going to be getting much sleep anyway, am I?"

"I guess not," Kat said blandly. She could feel Ethan's gaze on her. Feel his sudden amusement. "Just make sure you set the warding stones again."

"I have. Stop fussing and go get warm."

Kat walked into the other cabin and discovered two meals of steak and fries waiting for them in the fridge.

And the coffee machine on and ready. She zapped the meals in the microwave and poured two cups of coffee as Ethan squatted near the old record player.

"What do you prefer?" he said. "Elvis Presley or Frank Sinatra?"

"There isn't anything more modern?"

"It's them or jazz, and personally I'm not a big fan of jazz."

Neither was she, though Gwen was, so she'd certainly heard enough of it over the years. "What Elvis albums we got?"

"Compilations. Ballads, mainly."

"That'll do." Right now, Frank singing I did it my way was not what she needed. Especially since the man she was with had every intention of doing just that and to hell with what might be happening between them. The microwave beeped. She gathered the ketchup and cutlery and put everything on the table. "Dinner's ready."

"Nothing like soggy fries after midnight," he said, smiling ruefully as he sat down opposite her.

"I didn't think cops where overly fussy about when and what they ate." She picked up her coffee, savouring its bittersweet taste.

"We're not, which is why most of us develop ulcers later in life."

"I would think job stress would have something to do with that."

He shrugged. "It doesn't help."

She covered her fries in ketchup, picked up her knife and dug in. "Did you always want to be a cop?"

"Not especially."

"So why did you become one?"

"Had to do something once I left home."

She studied him for a minute, noting his closed expression, and said, "You don't want to speak about the past?"

His gaze met hers. Pain briefly lit the nut-brown depths.

"Not especially."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me." Because she needed to know, needed to understand, what was going on in his head, if not his heart.

"Then it shouldn't." His gaze hardened a little, became more wolf than man. "Don't look for what isn't there.

Don't expect me to give anything more than what I already have."

"I know, I know, it's just sex for you." And she didn't believe it any more now than she had originally. She pushed away her half finished steak. "So, what are you waiting for? Let's get down to it."

He studied her for a minute, then sighed and looked away. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" She rose and stripped, throwing her clothes in a pile beside the table. The warm air caressed her skin, but it was the hunger suddenly visible in his eyes that made her hot. "This is what you want, isn't it? A willing partner? Sex when you need it?"

His gaze skimmed her then leapt away. His need intensified, burning the air. "Don't push, Kat. Not like this."

Pushing him sexually was exactly what she had to do. He needed to see there was a difference between what he wanted and what they actually had. Even if he never admitted there was a difference, even if he still walked away when this case was over, she needed to do this.

"Why not?" She walked around the table and stood in front of him. "You want sex. I want sex. What's the problem?"

His mouth was a slash of anger, his body tense. But his eyes glowed, and the scent of his desire was so strong she could smell it. The wolf was very close to gaining control.

While she suspected that might not be pleasant, she trusted him not to hurt her.

Desperation glinted briefly in his eyes, only to drown in the hunger. "I will not — " She snagged him with kinetic energy and dragged him to his feet. Then she pressed herself close and kissed him.

With a growl deep in his throat, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and held her still and hard against him. He tasted her deeply, thoroughly, and she fought the need to return it in kind. If he wanted nothing but sex, she was going to make damn sure that was all he got.

His touch became demanding, almost forceful. She quivered, fighting the sensations coursing through her, fighting to remain passive. He clasped her rear, pressing her closer still, so that all she could feel was the hammering of his heart and the pulsing heat of his erection.

A heat she ached to feel deep inside.

He kicked aside the chair and pushed her back against the wall. Pinning her with his weight, he rubbed his hardness against her. It felt so good she had to bite back a groan.

She reached for kinetic energy and undid his zipper, thrusting his pants and boxers down to his ankles. There was very little gentleness in the way he entered her, his thrusts hard and deep and almost angry. But it didn't matter. Right now she wanted him any way she could get him.

Maybe there was wolf in her, as well. Given what her mother had been, it was certainly more than possible.

He made another sound deep in his throat then abruptly pushed away from her. His chest heaved as he sucked in air, and his eyes were wild with anger and passion combined.

"Not like that." His voice was little more than a growl.

"Never like that. Not with you."

Though she felt like dancing, all she did was raise her eyebrows. "But it's what you want, isn't it?"

"There's a difference — " "Yes," she cut in. "There is. And why do you think that is?"

He didn't answer. Maybe he never would. Maybe all this was for nothing, and she was nothing more than a fool to even be worried about it. Maybe she should do as her grandmother had suggested and just enjoy the time they had together.

Except that she wanted the chance to explore the promises he made with his touch and his body and his eyes. Even if, in the end, all it amounted to was nothing more than a semi-serious moment.

But such exploration required two willing participants, and right now, there was still only one.

She sighed and stepped past him. "I'm going for a shower." And a cold one at that.

He didn't reply and he didn't stop her, though his gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked away.

Ethan grabbed the door key and strode into the night. He needed to put distance between him and Kat. Needed to cool the thrumming desire to take what she had so readily offered. To finish in anger what she'd started in anger.

The rain lashing his skin was icy, but it did little to cool the ardour pounding through his blood. He'd come as close as he'd ever come to losing control tonight, and it was an experience he didn't want to complete. Not with Kat. Not with anyone. He'd spent most of his adult life fighting that part of him, keeping it fully leashed, and he had no intention of letting all that slip — especially now, when Janie's life was at stake.

He strode across the road and onto the beach. Waves pounded the shoreline, seething whitely in the storm-

swept darkness. He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and stopped on the edge of the foam-kissed sand.

He felt like those waves — tossed a hundred different ways and unable to do anything about it. The past couldn't be altered. Nor could the eeffect it had had on him.

Change was impossible. Because of what he was. Because of the curse that was his heritage.

Kat, with all her knowledge of the supernatural, should have been the one person in the world who could truly understand that.

So why didn't she? Why did she keep on insisting there was more to them than there ever could possibly be?

He raised his face to the sky, letting the stinging rain numb his skin. Wished it could do the same to his mind.

His blood. His need for Kat.

The moon had a lot to answer for, he thought grimly.

And yet, was it the moon's fault he hungered for her in a way he'd never hungered for a woman before? Or that he'd never felt anything as strong as this in his adult life?

Maybe it was just worry for Janie. Maybe it was the loneliness that had haunted him for the last few years.

Maybe it was just a growing distaste of seeking satisfaction from an endless line of faceless women.

Or maybe, as she'd suggested, there was something between them.

But if that were the case, it was a seed that was destined to wither and die. Because of the past. Because of Jacinta, who had stolen his heart and his dreams, only to destroy both.

Be honest with her, Gwen had advised. He could at least do that — offer Kat the truth, or as much of it as she needed to know. Because no matter how much he might hunger for her, there was nothing else left for him to give.

For the first time in many years, he viciously cursed the woman he'd once loved, then turned and headed back to the cabin.

Kat heard the cabin door open. She hitched the comforter closer to her nose and closed her eyes. Soft steps echoed in the living room, then the smell of rain and man entered the bedroom.

She tensed a little, not sure what to expect. Not sure what sort of mood he might be in. But he walked across to the fire not the bed, and the tension slithered away.

The soft rustle of material told her he was undressing.

She resisted the urge to look and tried to keep her breathing soft and even, though she had no doubt he knew she was awake.

When he made no further sound, she opened her eyes. He faced the fire, his hands on the mantle, knuckles white.

The glow of the flames caressed his bare body, making his skin appear almost golden. Tension knotted his shoulders, and his breathing was rapid. Because of the moon. Because of what she'd done. Because of what they hadn't finished.

Guilt slithered through her, but as she gripped the comforter to toss it aside, he said, "Don't move."

She hesitated, then obeyed. "Why?"

"Because there's something I need to tell you. Something I need to explain."

Though surprise rippled through her, she said, "You really don't have to."

"I do, because you're right. There's something between us, and I need to explain why it can be nothing more than what it already is."

No explanation could make her believe that. But as the swirl of his emotions began to invade her senses and fill her mind with the echo of his pain, she wasn't so sure.

He hesitated. "I was seventeen when I met Jacinta."

His voice was soft, but full of remembered wonder. And suddenly she didn't want to hear any more, because already it was obvious that despite her determination to believe otherwise, this woman still had what she never would. She briefly closed her eyes and fought the urge to scream at fate for putting this man in her path when it was far too late for them to build anything together.

"She was three years older than me and had come to my home town for a skiing vacation with several of her friends. She ended up staying long after they'd left."

She briefly closed her eyes. "You don't have to continue."

"I asked her to marry me," he said softly. "She accepted."

It hurt, though God knew it shouldn't have. Especially since he'd warned her going in — not that she'd ever been one to listen to warnings unless they truly suited her.

Her gaze slid to his hands, and she frowned. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring, and she had a suspicion he still would be if they'd actually married. Especially seeing a werewolf gave his heart for life. "So what happened?"

His hurt swam around her, deep enough to drown in.

"She didn't know I was a werewolf. I showed her that night."

"Oh."

"I wish that was all she'd said." Bitterness edged the anguish in his voice.

One piece of the puzzle fell into place. "So that's why you loathe your werewolf half?"

"It lost me the woman I loved. It lost me — " He stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath.

And she knew then there was far more to this story than what he was admitting now. "So she wasn't a werewolf herself?"

"No."

"She never got over the shock of it?"

"No."

And neither, obviously, had he. She rose from the bed and walked up behind him. He didn't move, didn't react, so she simply put her hands around him and pressed her cheek against his back. He was so tense, his muscles quivered.

"If she loved you, surely she would have eventually seen past that."

"She got a court order to prevent me going near her."

The woman was obviously a fool. A fool who didn't know what she had. "I'm sorry, Ethan." Sorry for him.

Sorry for them.

He took another shuddering breath, then turned and wrapped his arms around her. "So am I."

His breath stirred her hair, brushed warmth past her ear.

His body pressed against hers, filling her with radiant longing. It felt so good. So right.

So how come it could be so wrong?

She lifted her face and met his gaze. The sorrow evident in the brown depths tore at something deep inside her.

There wasn't much she could do about it, except love him in the only way he was willing to accept.

She kissed him. It was a slow and sensual exploration that left them both breathless. He brushed a thumb down her cheek and smiled his sexy smile.

"Shall we retire some place more comfortable?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You weren't comfortable here last night?"

His smile went up another notch and damn near smoked her insides. "I'm planning something a little slower than last night, and the bed is definitely more pleasant than a rug on the floor."

"I suppose if you insist — " "I do."

He swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed.

He placed her on it gently then stepped back, his gaze rolling languidly down the length of her body. It was a heated caress that sent a shiver of expectation through every part of her. Her nipples hardened, and the pooling heat between her legs became an ache that was almost unbearable. His gaze completed its erotic journey then met hers again, almost drowning her in longing.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lying down beside her.

From that moment on there was little room for talking.

As he'd promised, their lovemaking this time was a luscious and thorough exploration. Thought became desire, desire became need, and her whole world became this man who swore he couldn't love her.

His touch pushed her into a place where only sensation existed. The air was hot and thick and almost impossible to breathe. Every inch of her quivered beneath the relentless assault of his fingers and tongue. When he finally raised himself above her, she was slick with sweat, burning with pleasure, unable to think, unable to do anything more than feel.

For several seconds he held still, his arms trembling with the effort as their gazes met. Something twisted deep inside her. Ethan might not be able to love her, but he wasn't exactly immune to her, either. There was caring in his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he entered her, sliding so very deep, filling her with his rigid heat. The sheer bliss of it had her moaning. He held still again, his lips claiming hers, his kiss passionate and tender.

She wrapped her legs around him and pushed him deeper still. He began to rock, gently at first, touching places that had never been touched before. She could only groan in pleasure as his body drove into hers and the sweet pressure began to build.

He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, his movements becoming more urgent. The pressure built, curling through her body, until it became a tidal wave that would not be denied. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers trembling, her nails digging into his flesh.

"Oh… God." Her voice was little more than a fractured whisper. "Please…"

He answered her plea, his thrusts powerful and demanding. Her climax came in a rush that stole her breath, stole all thought, and swept her into a world of sheer, unadulterated bliss. A heartbeat later he went rigid against her, the power of his release tearing her name from his throat. He held her for one last thrust, then his lips sought hers, his kiss a lingering taste of heat.

Then he rolled to one side and gathered her into his arms, holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.

It was only later she realized they hadn't used a condom.