Shifters Unbound: Mate Claimed Part 2

Eric didn't bother looking at him. "You aren't?"

Graham stopped. They were relatively alone, the upper floors of the parking garage spa.r.s.e at the human lunch hour. "What are you up to?"

"You know we have to alter the houses," Eric said. "Be good to know what kind of plans these architects are coming up with. Better still to have the plans changed to fit our needs."

Graham's wolf gray eyes narrowed, but he gave Eric a conceding nod. "I get that. But how would they make plans to our specs? Without us giving away anything?"

"Agree to let me take care of that. Your idea of liaising is intimidation and fear. There's an easier way."

"No, there isn't," Graham said. "Terrify the humans, and they do what you want. Works like a dream."

"In a place where s.h.i.+fters outnumber humans, sure. Look around you." Eric jerked his chin at the streets and buildings below them. "Humans everywhere. Trust me, subtlety works."

"Yeah, look where subtlety's got you. You didn't argue with them very much in there, and you tried to shut me down when I did."

"Because I don't need humans knowing our business." The more humans believed that the Collars controlled the s.h.i.+fters, the better.

"I'm not crawling and hiding from humans," Graham said.

"Keeping your hole shut about s.h.i.+fter secrets is not the same as crawling and hiding. There's too much at stake."

Graham's scowl would have sent most of the s.h.i.+fters in Eric's s.h.i.+ftertown running for cover, but Eric met him stare for stare. Graham was going to be hard to tame.

Graham finally shrugged. "All right-I'll keep my mouth shut around humans. Because I'm not talking to them anymore. You liaise, if that's what you like. When you fail, tell me, and I'll scare the s.h.i.+t out of them and get a few things done."

With a final glare, Graham turned his back and walked away. If they'd been in animal form, Graham might have sprayed behind him or done something equally disgusting to show Eric his contempt.

Eric turned away himself, so that if Graham glanced behind him to see how Eric had taken the insult, he'd see nothing but Eric walking uncaringly toward his motorcycle.

He knew Graham wouldn't look back, though. Eric unstrapped his helmet and heard Graham start up his own bike. Graham was dominant enough to know his gestures made the right implications, without having to double-check.

Eric waited until Graham had ridden out, watching the man drive through the streets toward Charleston and North Las Vegas, before he started his bike and departed the other direction, heading for Duncan Construction's office on the west side of town.

Iona dropped her sandwich and jumped to her feet when she sensed Eric outside the door to the office. It was a terrific sandwich from a little deli down the street, and now it was a mess of roast beef, honey mustard, lettuce, and fresh bread all over her desk.

Eric walked in, bringing with him a wave of November chill, but Iona broke into a sweat.

He wore a short-sleeved black T-s.h.i.+rt under his leather jacket, one that showed the tatt sliding down his arm when he took off the jacket. He removed his sungla.s.ses, giving her the full flash of his jade green eyes.

She'd tried to forget his tall, strong body over hers when he'd cornered her like prey in the canyons, or at least pretended to forget. Now with Eric in front of her, she s.h.i.+vered all the way down, the sensation of him stretched out on top of her as vivid as when it'd happened.

That had been in his territory. This was hers. Iona gathered up the mess of her sandwich, dropped it back on the paper it had come in, wrapped it up, and wiped her hands on paper napkins.

Eric let the door close behind him. Her office was a trailer on the site where they stored their equipment and supplies and sold building goods on the side. At least it was lunchtime-her mother and sister were off doing wedding shopping, the guys lunching wherever they liked to lunch.

Iona was relatively alone here, but...

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing, Eric?" she said, making her voice not shake. "How is a s.h.i.+fter coming openly to my office going to keep me safe?"

CHAPTER THREE.

Eric gave her his stare, not smiling or saying h.e.l.lo, 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-s.h.i.+rt, 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 embarra.s.sment. 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 s.h.i.+fters have phones. Or did you forget how to use yours? You push the numbers on the little b.u.t.tons..."

"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 s.h.i.+fters 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+fter 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 s.h.i.+fters. She still didn't know what that meant.

"Ask the s.h.i.+fter 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 s.h.i.+ftertown, 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 sa.s.s. This man wasn't one for timidity. To a s.h.i.+fter, 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 s.h.i.+fters are even more old-fas.h.i.+oned. 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 s.h.i.+fters, 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 s.h.i.+ftertown-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 s.h.i.+fter side all her life. The half human, half s.h.i.+fters Eric had known who'd tried to shut out their s.h.i.+fter side had died. They'd gone feral and had either been killed by other s.h.i.+fters 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 s.h.i.+fter, 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 s.h.i.+fter."

Eric shrugged. "I go where I want."

"No, you don't. Plenty of places don't allow s.h.i.+fters."

"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 Ca.s.sidy 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, pa.s.sed 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.