Draven's Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings Page 3

  His thoughts drifted to various subjects on the drive home, but all came back to Rose. He could see the form fitting tan suit with the ruffles at the hem of the jacket and sleeves, and the pencil skirt with the ruffles in the back that she wore this morning. The color complimented her smooth, mocha skin. She wore shiny, black patent shoes. The thin metallic heel had made his cock jump. The delicate straps drew attention to her ankles. He’d wanted to kiss his way up her leg, starting at her feet. The shoes had made him think prim and proper in public, but a wild woman in the bedroom.

  Her hair had been pulled back into a messy bun. Spirals trailed down the back of her neck to frame her oval face. Almond shaped dark brown eyes surrounded by long, thick sooty lashes, blinked back at him. Her small, pert nose had been cute, but it was her full, glossy lips that drew most of his attention. Her make-up had been simple; a bit of eye shadow, mascara and eyeliner, some blush and lip gloss. Nothing caked on. It all looked natural. One glance at her lips and his mind ran through a variety of filthy scenarios.

  He wanted her to reveal her most inner desires; tell him every tawdry, salacious thought and wet dream she’d ever had. For now, it was the getting to know her stage. Which tested his self control.

  Weaving his car through the town, a smile curled on his lips. Everything looked calm. Draven’s Crossing had one of the lowest crime rates in the state, with a constant rate of job growth. He was proud of his little niche and what he’d added to it. His mind turned to what he would be discussing with Rose. Other than sex, he wanted to turn Draven’s Crossing into a vacation spot. There were mortals willing to come work here and even live in town, but no one outside the current citizenry was willing to think of it as vacation material.

  Draven was hopeful that Rose’s ideas could be implemented. Even though he’d contested some of them, he’d liked that she could think on her feet and challenge him. “Hopefully over dinner, we can come up with a few workable ideas and advance this attraction we have for each other.”

  Pulling into the driveway, he smiled. Everyone knew where the mayor’s residence was. What no one knew was where Draven actually called home. There were perks at being the grandson of the founder of the town, like having a personal residence not open to the public.

  His home was right on the edge of town close to the border of an area of protected forest. Being so far away from his people and the office gave him a sense of privacy and normalcy he badly needed. And right now, he was grateful for it. He hit a button on his dashboard, and the garage door opened to reveal his Aston Martin DBS UB-2010. The shiny black paint glittered in the overhead light. He took his time pulling into the large space and driving past his Bentley Continental, Ducati SportClassic GT 1000 and his black 2010 Harley Sportster Forty-Eight. He grinned. His toys. Vehicles were one of the few pleasures he allowed himself.

  After pulling into the space for his Jaguar, he shut off the engine, took out his cell phone and hit speed dial.

  “Yes, it’s me. Inform her dinner should be ready shortly, which means I’ll expect her within the hour. I’m sure she’ll hate me even more.” Chuckling, he hung up and got out of the car. The door to his private entrance opened. Pale, golden light spilled out around Ross, his butler.

  “Draven, the alpha of the Torstan werewolf pack, is here. He said it couldn’t wait for morning.”

  Draven grumbled. “He’s in the parlor?”

  “Yes, I made sure he was comfortable and served him a beer.”

  Draven nodded. “Good, inform him that I’ll be with him soon. I just have to shower and change. Is the chef almost ready?”

  “Yes. She’s been working hard to ensure your dinner will be a good one.”

  “I’m sure she has.” He brushed past his butler and headed for a set of stairs near the entryway. On his way up, his mind rolled over the alpha’s visit. They had to have decided what to do about David and couldn’t wait to tell me. It never ends.

  Draven sighed in weariness. Once he entered his room, he tossed his briefcase on the bed and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he dressed in jeans and a button up shirt and went down to the parlor. He wanted the alpha gone before Rose arrived. It irritated him that the werewolf would come to his personal home and not book an appointment through his office. Not only had this alpha been brought in by the Torstan pack from outside of town, but the man had never introduced himself, as was proper.

  He didn’t even know the werewolf’s name. No one had told him, not even David. Now this? He shook his head and took a moment to compose himself before entering the parlor. Draven didn’t want to meet the alpha with tension or irritation. The wolf would smell it and react. Trying to seem relaxed and open, he took in a deep, cleansing breath and walked into one of his least favorite rooms. A fire burned in the hearth, and the man’s back was to him. Draven stopped short as he heard a familiar, soft, feminine voice floating toward him. Rose. Shit.

  Heat unfurled in his body as the desire manifested itself once again. His balls hardened, and his cock thickened in his pants leg. A bark of laughter drew Draven’s attention back to the mysterious new alpha. Trying not to scowl, Draven moved forward, unsure how to act in this environment. Part of him wanted to rip his security team a new one for bringing her earlier than expected; the other half wanted to study this situation and take his cues from Rose to see how he should act. One thing was for sure, he didn’t like this new part of the equation.

  “Rose, so good to see you here. Uh, hello? I was told you were here. I’m Draven, mayor of the town. I haven’t had the pleasure of welcoming you.” He strode forward with his hand held out, while sidling up to Rose and making sure a foot or so separated them.

  The voice was a deep, grumbled rasp. “Branson Torstan.” The werewolf took Draven’s hand. Branson had a firm grip, not too tight, but not too loose. Up close, the man had an ink black Mohawk with red streaks, the sides cleanly shaven to reveal a wolf tattoo on one side and a full moon over the tops of the evergreens on the other. When he smiled, he showed off white, straight teeth. His bottom lip was pierced in the center with a silver hoop.

  Draven winced, wondering how much that hurt. The myths weren’t lying when they said that werewolves had a silver allergy. Most couldn’t even look at silver without getting hives or becoming physically sick. The rest of Branson’s attire was a black leather jacket, button up shirt and jeans with dusty motorcycle boots. The most notable thing was a large, black medallion with a picture of a massive gray wolf, its mouth hanging open as if it was howling.

  “Sorry to come to your private residence. I know I should have introduced myself earlier, but the last alpha left such a shit pile that I’m just now sorting things out. ‘Scuse my language.” He nodded toward Rose, who shook her head.

  “It’s okay. I’ve heard worse.” For a moment, Draven was entranced by the sight of her. Rose wore another figure hugging outfit, this time a one-shoulder, dark green dress with an asymmetrical cut skirt. Golden braid work formed the strap holding the dress up. On her feet were gold strappy sandals. She looked stunning with simple, understated make-up. Her lips showed with color, a nude pink shimmery gloss that made her mouth look even more enticing than the red gloss from earlier. Draven stood there unable to move, much less breathe.

  “You looking stunning,” he murmured to her.

  She gave a small smile. “Thank you.”

  Branson cleared his throat, drawing Draven’s attention back to him. “Again, sorry to interrupt a date. I was just telling Rose here that David has been taken care of. The old alpha was his cousin, which is why the little rat bastard had managed to steal money from the pack. The advertising firm is owned partly by the pack. Eli is royally pissed, as expected. I’ll have a report for you by tomorrow morning. May I request a meeting about pack business and this charity ball you’re trying to organize? I’d like to formally back you on it, even do a donation on behalf of the pack.”

  Draven nodded with a grin. “Trying to curry favor are you? How’s nine
tomorrow? That work for you? I’d like to discuss the state of the werewolves’ packs. I’m concerned.”

  “As am I. I’d be happy to, and nine is fine. I get up earlier than most wolfies.” Branson smiled. “I’ll be leaving now. Thank you, and nice meeting you.” He nodded toward Rose and left the room.

  Rose’s tone was short and clipped. “You’re invading my personal space.”

  His muscles tensed in warning as an alarm went off in his head. He tried to act as if he didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Hmm? What?” Draven made a show of looking down. Sometime during the talk, he’d moved even closer to her.

  She took a large step away to her left. It felt as if a wall had slammed down between them, and he wasn’t sure what’d he done to deserve it.

  “This is a business dinner only.” She raised a glass to her lips and took a sip of white wine. He watched her mouth on the glass as she pursed her lips on its rim. Draven bit back a groan. The tip of her pink tongue came out to lick strays drops up. He closed his eyes and shoved his desire down.

  “Of course, dinner, business, yes.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Business.”

  Draven tried to ignore the emphasis on that particular word. She has no clue how this night will end. Rose will be mine. He decided to change his tactics. Instead of trying for a direct seduction, he would aim for destabilizing her by allowing her to see another side of him, show her that this wasn’t all sexual for him.

  “Dinner is ready, sir,” Ross announced.

  Draven held out his hand toward Rose. “Shall we go in?”

  She looked down at his palm and then back at him before gesturing toward the door. “Please lead the way.”

  “My hand is clean, I promise.” He waited, refusing to budge until she took it. Silence descended between them as she continued to gaze at his hand. “We can wait here all night if you want.”

  Emotions flitted across her face. Her lips thinned. She lifted her chin and gazed up at him. “This means nothing.”

  “It’s me being a gentleman.” He tried to sound innocent.

  She snorted in response. “Have you ever been a gentleman? Do you even know what that means?”

  “Of course I do.” He decided to keep his sentences short. Force her to do most of the talking and see what happened.

  “Yeah, probably in your youth. What’s for dinner?” Her hand flexed, and she still looked unsure. Her jaw tightened, and she lifted her palm then dropped it.

  “Scared?”

  She glared at him. “No, I’m just wondering what else I’ll be giving in to if I let you hold my hand.”

  He allowed his fangs to distend fully and grinned at her. Rose gasped and stepped back. Her fear tinged the air, but another softer, muskier perfume joined it a second later. Ahhh, she’s aroused as well. This pleased him. Draven resisted the urge to tease her about it. Instead, he remained silent, waiting for her reaction.

  She licked her lips and held his gaze. Fear flickered in her dark brown depths. “Having fun at my expense?”

  He gave her a nonchalant shrug. “One would think you weren’t use to being around vampires. Raising an eyebrow in question, he waited for her response. She shifted from one foot to the other.

  Rose ducked her head and looked away. “I’ve only been living here for a year and half, and I don’t go out much.”

  That one move constricted his heart. She looked vulnerable and sweet, yet sexy at the same time.

  “If you’d like—”

  She held up a hand. “No dates.”

  “I was going to suggest escorting me to some events, get to really know the locals. I think that’s what you’re missing. You’re suggestions for the campaign is how an outsider would see it, not a local.”

  Rose’s features scrunched up. She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side as if considering his words. Warmth spread through his chest as his heart yet again constricted.

  “So, they won’t be dates? Just meeting the public?” Her words were slow and careful. She was trying to establish that the appearances would be harmless.

  He nodded, not bothering to correct her. To him they would be dates.

  “You need to say they won’t be dates,” she pressed.

  Draven considered lying. He searched for words that would make it sound as if he was saying it wasn’t a date when it was. She placed both hands on her hips. “Say they won’t be dates, and I’ll go on them.”

  Exasperated, he shook his head. “Why is it so important to you that these not be dates?”

  “I told you on the phone, I don’t fuck clients. Technically, with me leaving the firm, you’re my boss now. I don’t need people getting the wrong idea about how I got this job.”

  He sighed. “You care that much about appearances? You’re attracted to me.”

  “And?” She gave him a look that clearly said that part wasn’t important.

  Draven was pleased she didn’t deny it. “To be honest, to me they’ll be dates. You can think of them however you please.”

  “Then I can’t go with you. They can’t be dates in any way.” She shook her head and moved away, much to his annoyance.

  “You are being so difficult.”

  “Says you. You’re not the employee here. You have the power.”

  “And yet you can slap me with a sexual harassment suit or go to the press and tell them all the tawdry details of our phone conversation.”

  “As you said, you don’t care, so how would that hurt you? You’ve also stated that your sex life isn’t any of their business and the public wouldn’t care,” she pushed back.

  He shrugged. “They won’t. Only you seem to be making a big deal out of this. You haven’t answered my sexual harassment claim.”

  “You’ve smelled my attraction to you and I just…I don’t know.”

  “Just because you’re attracted and allowed me to talk to you in a particular way doesn’t mean it doesn’t become unwanted,” he pointed out.

  She nodded. “True. It’s just—”

  “You wouldn’t feel you had a right after you’ve allowed me to talk to you in such a way,” he finished. “If I go too far, tell me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, nor will I tolerate people speaking about you and acting as if you didn’t earn this job.”

  “You want to fuck me.” Her hands dropped to her sides. She seemed to have calmed down.

  “I don’t deny that. I can’t deny that. But you did earn this job even if some of my motives weren’t entirely pure. You offered up better options than your former employer.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure a local agency would have done better.”

  “Don’t put yourself down. How about a deal?” As opposed as he was to the idea that had risen, he knew to be fair he’d have to say it.

  Her head cocked to the side. “I’m listening.” Her liquid, brown eyes filled with curiosity.

  “If you’d like me to, and this is totally up to you, I can meet with another agency and see what they’re ideas are.” He waited for her answer. Indecision showed on her face.

  “How about this,” she started. He held back a grin and allowed her to talk. “I go to these events, experience the town, and you hire another agency to make their own campaign. In a blind draw, you pick the one you like the best for the ball?”

  Draven admired her competitive spirit. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go for it. Does this mean you won’t be part of my P.R. department?”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t be.”

  He let out a long, suffering sigh. “Fine. But the security detail will remain. I don’t entirely trust that David is gone. Now, we’ve kept the chef waiting. Time for dinner, and if you protest I will take you over my knee.” Draven held out his hand. “Ready?”

  This time she took it, but didn’t smile.

  “I promise I won’t bite, unless you ask me to.”

  He watched her shudder. Goosebumps broke out over her skin, and she held ba
ck a smile.

  Chapter Three

  Rose tried not to squeeze her thighs together. The consistent pulse of need grew at the mention of Draven’s bite. There were legends that said the smallest scrap of a vampire’s fangs could bring unbelievable pleasure. Looking down at his hand again, she went over her options. I can either take the gesture or continue to be rude. With a sigh, she accepted his hand. His skin was warm and dry, with the rough edge of calluses on his fingertips. That slightest brush of roughness against the back of her hand sent a ripple of need up her arm and throughout her body.