Read Unquenchable Desire Online

Authors: Lynde Lakes

Unquenchable Desire (5 page)

“But can I trust
you
? It’s pretty obvious you have hidden
secrets and agendas.”

But how could she fault him? Wasn’t
she holding a mirror up to herself as well? Her family’s secrets and the
mystery of the graves in the rear yard had always made her miserable. Would he
sense that? Although her nerves were taut, it seemed the extra tension increased
her desire for a man she should consider forbidden.

Brian’s laugh came out a
snort.
 
“You hit the problem between us
right on. From the shocking revelations we unwittingly exposed to each other,
it’s apparent we both have family histories, desires, and passions we want to
keep buried from the world.”

She couldn’t deny it. And now
one more person knew.
Part of it, anyway.
Could he guess
she feared her reckless side and hated when her inner wildness spilled out?

Up until last night she’d
buried her passions and desire in layers of relentless control. Even now, in
her fantasy, she imagined wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him
breathless. She would respond to his lips, the low murmurs between them and the
hard, hot climaxes. “Exactly what happened between us last night?” The day was
heating up and the incessantly hot July wind electrified her nerve-endings,
making her edgy and the air itself seemed alive, dangerous. “Well, are you
going to tell me?” Her patience was shredding.

“Sure. We were great
together, like our mating was destined to be.”

“Mating,” she screamed.
“Oh my God.”

Brian gathered her in his
arms. “I didn’t mean to
creep
you out.”

She pushed against his chest.
“You did.”

“It was all good. I could
show you a recap.”

She pushed harder against his
chest. “No!
Definitely no.”

He let her go and shrugged,
looking hurt. Sympathy coursed through her, and she reached up to trace his jaw
line. “Look, I didn’t intend to hurt you, but thoughts of mating and our sexual
gyrations isn’t something I can handle right now.
And
probably never.”

“Okay, I get it.” He gathered
her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

Their nude bodies connected
again and, in spite of her resolve to end this craziness, her body reacted. Desire
propelled her forward like a runaway semi. Its strength and an indefinable
something beyond and more powerful than basic need carried her along toward
insanity.

When Brian stroked her hair
and looked into her eyes, she entwined her arms around his neck and drew him
closer. His heat flowed into her like hot oil and she knew the hunger she felt
had been rekindled in him. She fixed her gaze on his lips. They parted slightly,
half lupine, half man.
 
She lifted her
head, offering what they both desperately wanted.

He didn't move. Brian's face
was a sculpture of strong angles and planes. He let out an agonized groan that
sounded more like a howl. Then he bent and captured her lips in a gentle taking.

The tip of Brian's tongue
traced her lower lip with maddening slowness, sending sensations racing through
her. She moaned, and he covered her mouth again. She tasted his feral, oddly sweet
flavor, like dew-fresh grass.

His body tensed. He kissed
her hard and hot. Brian's fire liquefied her limbs until she could only cling
to him. His hands caressed her back, catapulting her into a world of warm,
delicious madness. She wanted more, so much more.

Suddenly Brian’s shoulders
stiffened. He gently untangled her arms from his neck. “Look, I’m going against
my natural instincts here. But if we do this as scrambled beings, we may lose
the chance for the kind of normal life the discovery of your Dad’s serum will
provide." His voice was ragged.

Valerie’s breath caught. “You
know about the lab and the search for a cure? Is that what brought you here? Made
you hit on me? Was your seduction all part of your plan to find out the
research status and worm your way into getting one of the first doses?”

He frowned. “Are you deft? If
you remember, you approached me first and primed me with lemonade, turkey
sandwiches, and your inescapable flirtatious charm.”

“I thought you were a regular
guy.”

“And I thought you were a
regular girl. But to be honest, I did come here to get in on the cure, but my
attraction to you was separate and unplanned.”

She rolled her eyes.
“Right.
I want to go home.
Now!”

He stood in one fluid motion
and extended a hand to her. Valerie ignored his offer, rose under her own power,
and quickly stepped away from him.

“Come on, Valerie, don’t blow
our budding friendship. We need each other.”

“In
your dreams,
Wolfman
.”

He lowered his eyes and
looked desperately sad and rejected. Then he shrugged and reached for her arm. “At
least let me see you home safely.”

She shook her head. “I
thought you liked your job. If Dad’s sees us together nude, your work here is history.”

“I have a stash of clothes in
the cave. We’ll be fine.”

****

The only
thing that fit her was a long, red flannel shirt with tails. He put on his
regular work clothes—tight jeans—and draped a T-shirt over a beautifully tanned
shoulder. Somehow, being dressed made her feel less vulnerable and more
inclined to accept the friendship he’d offered. That is, if she ignored the
enticing feral scent wafting from the shirt he’d wrapped around her. “Okay, if
we’re going to be friends, what’s your story? Who put the curse on you?”

“I don’t know my history or why,
when the moon is full, I turn into a werewolf. I just know as an infant I was
abandoned in the wilds of the
California
desert near
Trona
to die.
 
I was a half-starved, shivering cub when
wolves took me into their lair. They raised me as one of them until Momma
Maggie caught me in her snare.”

Valerie frowned. “You’re kidding,
right?”

He raked his midnight-black hair
with taunt fingers. “That’s one reason why I’ve never told anyone. Who’d
believe me? Maggie did, only because when she caught me in her netted-trap, I
was half morphed—part boy, part wolf.”

In spite of herself, Valerie
started to believe him. If true, it would explain so much—like why he’d made
his home in a cave. “How old were you when she captured you?”

“She said I was probably about
seven. It’s close enough for me.”

“You seem bright and educated. Did
you go to school?”

He nodded. “She gave me her deceased
son’s name, Brian Jones, and enrolled me in school with a phony birth
certificate. Later, I used the library computer and went to
SBVC
junior college online.
Got my AA in animal husbandry.
I’d
like to be a vet someday.”

What he’d accomplished coming from
a background of desertion and poverty was phenomenal, and she felt a warm
outpouring of appreciation for who he was and who he’d become. “Do you ever
feel like hunting down the horrible people who abandoned you and tearing out
their throats?”

An amused half smile played on his
lips as though he’d just learned something unexpected about
her
. “No. Fear drives people to do
stupid things. Momma Maggie said forgiving is the best revenge because
lingering anger eats up the unforgiving soul.”

“You really loved Momma Maggie,
didn’t you?”

“As much as I’ve
ever loved anyone.”

What was that supposed to mean? Brian
puzzled her. She heard no violence or revenge in his words or tone, yet he had
a right to be angry. As they neared the mansion, she had to decide whether to
tell Dad the truth about Brian being a werewolf. If she did, it would force Dad
to take action. How sure was she that Reeves hadn’t morphed into Brian? She
looked up into Brian’s kind, earth–brown eyes and decided she was
very
sure.

As they rounded the curve, she
spied her dad, mom, and Uncle Hugh running toward them. “Let me do the
talking,” she whispered.

Mom’s eyes were red and
swollen,
Dad’s mouth was set in a grim line, and Uncle

Hugh had deep worry lines in his
face and a slew of new bandages. “I’m sorry I was out all night and worried
you, but I smelled wolves and took refuge in a cave. I was afraid to come out
until daylight.

Dad frowned and glared at Brian. “What’s
your
story?”

Before her wolf man could mess up
her fabrication, she said, “I met Brian on his daily jog and he gave me his
shirt and insisted upon seeing me home safely.”

Dad’s narrow-eyed expression
suggested he wasn’t totally buying her trumped-up story, but rather than press
her further, he said, “You can’t run loose anymore. A crazed, blood-thirsty
wolf attacked Hugh last night and the devil is still out there. Until he’s
caught, you’re grounded, even if I have to lock you in the lab.” She had an
urge to tell him he couldn’t ground a grown woman of twenty-one, but Uncle
Hugh’s injuries smacked of a subject too serious and dangerous to give her dad
a hassle. Besides, she suspected they were talking about Reaves, but with Brian
here, they didn’t want to spell out family secrets.

 

Chapter Five

 

Brian had mixed feelings about
Valerie’s dad locking her away somewhere. He wanted her out of harm’s way but
felt confident now that he knew she was cursed with lycanthropic impulses that
he could keep her safe. How could her dad get away with locking a grown woman
away?
Good God, how old is she?
Her
youthful looks told him she could be as young as eighteen, but her edgy quips
and intelligence suggested she was in her twenties.
 
Geez.
I might be in
deep doo
doo
for making love to her. Dear Lord, don’t
let her be a minor.

Why
am I getting so involved anyway?
Memo
to myself: Hang onto your slipping detachment and belief that emotions are
dangerous.
 
His stomach knotted. He
suspected things were out of balance in his spiritual warp. From experience, he
knew this jumbled, upside-down turmoil usually happened during a full moon like
the one last night.

He had to play things smart and
keep his mouth shut.

When he and the Lamont family rounded
the mansion to the front entrance, he spied a cool, primed Volkswagen Bug
parked in the driveway. A blond guy a little older than himself with a styled,
every-strand-in-place haircut was about to ring the doorbell.
Hmm.
Clearly a rich college
boy.
The guy had wrapped a jaunty red scarf around his neck and
tucked it into the neckline of his long-sleeved white shirt.
 
Even more suspicious on such a hot July
morning was his letterman sweater. Guess he wore the heavy knit to flaunt his
athletic achievements. The guy’s tailored gray trousers didn’t have a wrinkle. Did
Valerie like his type? Brian arched a brow as another interesting question
popped into his mind—why had Mr. Fastidious worn garments that covered every
inch of his body? What the dickens was Mr. F hiding on this sweltering morning
under all those hot clothes?
And why the
hell do I care?

Valerie introduced the guy as Rory Mansell.
Mansell’s eyes glinted with wary recognition. Brian touched the filigree cross
around his neck. He felt sure they’d never met before, yet there was something
about this Rory dude that prickled the hairs on the back of his neck.

Valerie’s family seemed to know
him.

Rory flashed a grin and shoved a
dozen roses toward Valerie. “I dropped by to see if you’d go to lunch with me.”

The grin didn’t reach his eyes and
his hard, unblinking stare suggested it wasn’t sincere.

Valerie’s dad frowned. “Valerie’s been
out all night and needs a nourishing breakfast and rest.”

Brian smiled. Although his new
employer sounded like a dictator, at the moment, he liked that about him. He
sure as hell didn’t want this college lothario sniffing around Valerie.

He frowned when Damon added, “But,
you’re welcome to stay and eat with us, if you like.”

Damon glanced at Brian, in what
looked like an after-thought. “You’re welcome to stay as well and thanks for
seeing Valerie home.” Damon raked a disapproving, icy gaze over Valerie’s near
nudity. “Why don’t you march upstairs and change into something more appropriate
for receiving guests?” His sharp tone sounded more like an order than a
request.

He turned away as though certain
she’d comply without argument. “Come with me, gentlemen.”

Damon pointed out where the guest
bathroom was in case he and Rory cared to use the facility. Next he led them to
a classy formal dining room the likes of which Brian had never seen before. He
wasn’t sure how to behave in such a swell place. It had high ceilings and the
swag drapes went clear to the dome top. It was nothing like the cave he’d lived
in or Maggie’s shack with cardboard in the windows to keep out the rain. The
rectangular table was beautifully set with sterling silver and classy gold-rimmed
china.

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