Mate Claimed

CHAPTER THREE

Eric gave her his stare, not smiling or saying hello, nothing a normal person would do. He showed up, sliding into her life again, and that was that.

His Collar glinted above the line of his T-shirt, proclaiming what he was—not human, a wild thing someone had tried to cage. His look said that, though humans might try for centuries, he’d never be tamed, though he might pretend he was for his own reasons.

He asked her, “Did Duncan Construction win the bid?”

No apologies, no embarrassment. Not even glee. Eric leaned against the desk and looked at her, and it was all Iona could do to not react. In any way.

“Yes,” she said.

Eric’s eyes softened the slightest bit. “Good girl.”

Why did that little morsel of praise warm her all over? “You couldn’t have called to ask me that? I know Shifters have phones. Or did you forget how to use yours? You push the numbers on the little buttons…”

“Cute.” Eric leaned toward her and brushed his fingertips over her chin.

She should jerk away, break the contact, but Iona couldn’t move. He was an alpha male, and she was…

She didn’t know. She’d avoided Shifters all her life, so Iona had no idea if she was dominant or submissive or what either of those really meant.

She knew only that when Eric looked at her, her thoughts shot back to the night they’d stood together behind the Forum Shops, and he’d fed her sweet chocolate with his fingers. She remembered every taste of that chocolate, every flavor passing her lips, and best of all, Eric’s mouth following it.

“I thought you wanted to protect me,” she said. “Coming openly to my office isn’t the way to do it.”

Eric straightened up, removing his mesmerizing touch. “No one’s here, and no one noticed me. I need to see the architect’s plans for the Shifter houses.”

That was the reason he’d come? Why did she feel disappointed? “I won’t have them for a while. It takes time to get blueprints, even on a rush job.”

“I need to see them as soon as you have them.”

Iona thought about what he’d said up in the cave when he talked about the houses—I need them constructed in a way that’s best for Shifters. She still didn’t know what that meant.

“Ask the Shifter council to show you a copy when they’re finished,” she said.

Eric leaned across the desk, right over her rewrapped sandwich. “Much more fun to come here and demand them from you.”

Why did she want to agree? “You might be the leader of Shiftertown, but this is my office, and here, I’m the boss.”

Something hot flickered in his eyes, and his lips twitched. “Never try to out-alpha an alpha, sweetheart. You’ll lose.”

His stance said, though, that he liked her sass. This man wasn’t one for timidity. To a Shifter, she’d heard, being timid meant being submissive, and the alpha would take full advantage. She couldn’t afford to be timid with Eric.

Eric brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth, where she realized that some honey mustard lingered. “What am I going to do with you, Iona?”

“Don’t buy me any more chocolate.”

She hadn’t been able to look at the chocolate box he’d bought her without remembering Eric’s fingers at her lips, his mouth on hers. She hadn’t been able to resist taking out a piece at a time, in the privacy of her bedroom, savoring it, and pretending Eric was there to feed it to her.

“You like the ones with the chiles the best,” Eric said softly. “I remember.”

His finger moved on her mouth, then he leaned forward and inhaled, his nose nearly touching her hair.

Eric thought he could drown in her scent. Cinnamon and spice, overlaid with her musk, a heady combination that filled his dreams. She was a woman in her prime calling out to a male, and Eric was losing control.

Iona’s blue eyes were close, her breath warm on his skin. “Why do you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Smell me like that?” Her voice was sultry, like a caress.

Because I could lie down and bathe in your warmth, and nothing else on this earth would matter.

“Scent is a powerful way to communicate. From scent alone I can tell you’ve been here awhile, working intently on something, and when I came in, I shook you out of that.”

“You can tell all that by sniffing me?”

“Plus I see notes all over your desk, computer files open, and you eating here instead of going out with your family.”

“Had something I wanted to get done.”

“What?” Eric drew blueprints out from under the remains of her sandwich. The careful lines and neat letters and numbers didn’t mean anything to him. “What is this?”

Iona’s slight relaxation told him she cared about this project but didn’t fear him knowing about it. “An extension to my sister’s house. My mom and I decided to put in a couple bedrooms and a rec room for her as a surprise while she and Tyler are on their honeymoon in Hawaii. We won’t finish by the time they get back, but everything will be well under way.”

“I like the way you think.” Eric did, because if Iona could plan a covert extension to her own sister’s house, she’d be able to keep quiet on the work Eric wanted done. He traced the dimension marks on the blueprints. “You understand what all these mean?”

“Of course I do. It’s kind of my job.”

Eric looked around the small but warm office. “Three females running a construction company.”

“Yes.” Iona’s eyes held a challenge. “What about it?”

Eric wanted to relax, to laugh with her, to casually sit down behind her desk and draw her onto his lap while they talked. Soon. “You know, I still have to smack some of my males around to get them to let their mates or daughters have jobs or go to college. McNeil’s Shifters are even more old-fashioned. When I bring you in, you’ll be a good influence on the others.”

Iona’s eyes glinted. “If you bring me in, you mean.”

“You know I have to.” He said it quietly, trying to keep the arrogance out, and the triumph. Eric wanted her in his fold, to be able to put his arm around her and tell all other Shifters, Back off. She’s mine.

“Then I can say good-bye to everything I’ve worked for,” Iona said. “My mom and sister can too. My dad—my stepdad, I mean—built this company from the ground up. I’m not about to do anything to let them lose it.”

Eric didn’t answer. She was right that here lay the problem. If Eric took Iona to Shiftertown—to keep her safe—her family would suffer repercussions for hiding her all this time. He had ideas on how to get around that, but he’d need Iona’s cooperation.

But Iona couldn’t deny her Shifter side all her life. The half human, half Shifters Eric had known who’d tried to shut out their Shifter side had died. They’d gone feral and had either been killed by other Shifters or human hunters, or they’d killed themselves.

Eric couldn’t let that happen to Iona, no matter what he had to do. No matter that he might have to put her in restraints and haul her in, keeping her sequestered in his house while she got used to the idea of being his captive.

And why did that thought beat excitement through him? Iona in bonds, glaring at him with her beautiful blue eyes…Being Shifter, she’d be able to get out of any mundane restraints, but it would be fun for a while.

Eric opened the wrapper on her desk and looked at the mess inside. “Is this what you’re eating?”

“I was.”

“What did you do, sit on it?”

Iona slammed the paper back over the sandwich. “Will you go before someone sees you?”

“Come with me. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Iona’s eyes flared hunger. That hunger touched Eric like a flame.

“Can’t. Too busy here, and we’d have to find someplace where no one knew me. Plus, you’re obviously a Shifter.”

Eric shrugged. “I go where I want.”

“No, you don’t. Plenty of places don’t allow Shifters.”

“You allow them.”

She made a noise of exasperation. “No, I don’t. One just keeps barging in.”

He held back his laugh. “Why don’t you throw me out, then? You could call your security guards or the police. Why haven’t you?”

He saw the catch in her breath, the tightening of her eyes. “I can handle you myself.”

“Sure about that?” Eric leaned to her again.

“Will you stop smelling me? It’s just weird.”

“Have you closed yourself off to using your scent-sense? That’s dangerous, love.”

“I had to. It was driving me crazy.”

Eric had some sympathy. Scent could be powerful, triggering emotions and sense memory, as well as physical hunger and mating need. The smell of burned matches took him back to the Second World War when he and his sister Cassidy had slunk through the night carrying explosives to sabotage the German army. The smell of strawberries transported him to the happy days when he’d first met Kirsten, his mate, passed long ago now. Iona, untrained and trying to deny her natural instincts, must be going insane.

“That roast beef smells good, even all squashed, doesn’t it?” Eric asked, glancing at the wrapped sandwich. “If you were in your panther form, you wouldn’t worry. You’d gulp it down and spit out the paper.”

Iona’s hunger came to him again. “That’s why I have to ignore scents when I’m in my human form. I’d make a complete idiot of myself.”

“Don’t ignore them. Control it.” Eric spread his hands on the desk. “Starting now. Use your nose on me and tell me what it tells you.”

Iona stared at him, her fear as palpable as her hunger. Then she swallowed, her slender throat moving, and she leaned to him.

Eric held himself still as her nose brushed the line of his hair. His impulse was to grab her, shove the sandwich remains and blueprints from the desk, and lay her across its top, spreading her and letting his body and hers do what both truly wanted. The coupling would be good. Intense. Memorable.

Instead, he made himself stand still as she roved his face to his neck, breasts lifting as she inhaled.

“You had eggs for breakfast,” she said. “You’ve been riding around on your motorcycle, farther than just between here and Shiftertown, and you’ve been very close to at least one other Shifter. You were also extremely angry this morning.” Iona lifted her head, puzzlement in her eyes. “Angry about what?”

“Not angry,” Eric said. “Frustrated. What kind of Shifter?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You’ll know. Come on. Give it your best shot.”

Iona leaned closer, her eyes closing as she drew in a long breath. Her hair brushed his cheek, and Eric’s body tightened.

“Felines,” Iona said, opening her eyes and drawing back. “And another kind, but I don’t recognize it. I’m only familiar with Felines.”

“Lupine,” Eric said. “The Felines were my sister and son at breakfast. I hugged them both before I left. The Lupine is Graham McNeil, the asshole who’s being shoved into my Shiftertown. Which is why we need the new houses.”

“Which you want constructed to your specifications.”

“Without mentioning it to anyone,” he said.

Iona drew back. “How am I supposed to have my crew build houses without them noticing what they’re building?”

“You’re having your sister’s house remodeled without telling her.”

“Only until she and her husband get back from their trip. I think she’ll notice the guys hammering and sawing and putting up walls then. It can’t be done.”

He liked the way she stood and glared at him, not bowing her head and meekly promising him whatever he wanted. She was strong, this lady. A survivor.

“Find a way,” he said. “I’ll keep my Shifters from you, and the humans from finding out about you, and you alter the plans to my specs without telling anyone. All right?”

“And if I refuse? You’ll expose me?”

“You think I’m threatening you?” Eric came out of his nonchalant, Eric-is-everyone’s-friend stance, and leaned over the desk to her again, not stopping the predator. Iona stood her ground, but her eyes widened, and her wild scent washed over him.

“I don’t need to make deals with you, Iona. You’re an unmated, unprotected female in my territory. I could make you mine right here in this office, carry you home, and sequester you, and you couldn’t do anything to stop me. Could you? You’d fight, but in the end I’d win.”

He leaned closer, the desk no barrier, and she stepped back, catching herself on the chair behind her. Her eyes flickered, and he smelled her fear, but she wouldn’t look away.

She wet her lips, which made them red and sultry. “Is this how you romance all the girls?”

The little bit of defiance kicked hot need through Eric’s body. Having her was going to be good, so good.

“Sweetheart, an unprotected female raises the capture instinct in all unmated males, and most aren’t strong enough to control it. McNeil’s Shifters are just this side of wild, and they’re not about to control anything. Females protected by a clan or family are safe, but someone like you…” Eric reached across the desk and touched her cheek. “When Shifters see you, alone and unmated, their beasts will come out. The wild things we once were just want.” His touch grew firmer. “And they take.”

She drew a quick breath. “But you control your beast?”

“Barely.” Eric brushed her skin with his fingertips, liking how her cheek flushed. “I can keep it together, but whenever I see you, it’s one hell of a struggle.”

“But you hold it in. Is that why you’re the alpha?”

“One of the reasons.”

Eric felt his eyes change to Shifter, and Iona’s flicked to Shifter in response. He smelled her desires, the wild frenzy in her fighting to take over. She tried to tamp it down, but Eric’s own frenzy was responding.

He could do it. He could pull her across the desk to him, strip her down, make her his in the most inescapable way. It wouldn’t take long.

Eric leaned closer and licked across her lips.

Iona jumped, but she didn’t back off. He felt her body shaking, sensed her rise in temperature, tasted the mustard from her sandwich that lingered at the corner of her mouth.

He licked her again, and this time, Iona’s tongue came out to meet his.

Eric slid his hand to the back of her neck and gripped her while he played, licked, and nipped, chasing her tongue, her hot breath tangling his. Iona licked the pad of his lip, then the tip of his tongue, their mouths meeting and parting, soft sounds in the quiet.

The thick, female scent of her made him growl. Need and frenzy, long buried, rushed to the surface. Iona would be his, and no other Shifter would touch her, ever. She was his.

Eric dragged her closer, the desk still between them. He felt her nipples tight behind her thin blouse and bra, heard the little noise she made in her throat. He remembered her naked up in the cave, firm breasts pale in the moonlight, dark tips beckoning his tongue. He wanted to rip open the blouse, sending buttons flying through the room, to bend her backward and fasten his mouth on her. He would do it, taste every inch of her, lick up every bit of goodness. She was made for tasting.

Iona seemed fascinated by the Collar. As they kissed, she glided her fingertips around it to the Celtic knot fused at his throat—the “eternal” knot, the Fae thinking to make Shifters slaves eternally. Fools. The eternal knot meant two hearts bound together forever, and that’s what would free the Shifters in the end. Their strength and love.

Eric would make Iona understand this, after he took her in every position known to humans and some they didn’t know.

Iona slid her fingers down to find the smooth line of his tatt. She swirled her touch around and around the tattoo, moving her tongue in his mouth in the same rhythm. She probably didn’t even know she was doing it, but Eric’s hard-on was about to dig through the desk.

He felt a sudden draft of air behind him, smelled the strong scent of human, then heard a gasp. “Iona?”

Iona jerked away, her face flushed, her eyes still her wildcat’s—blue, slit-pupilled, almost luminescent. She backed away from the desk, her arms coming up as though to hide herself.

“Mom,” she said breathlessly.