Chapter Nine

Lera was quiet when she returned to the room and entered cautiously, not knowing what she’d find. Her gaze landed upon the sprawled body of one Cormac MacLochlainne across the only bed in the room. He lay on his belly, head buried into her pillow.

She stared, waiting for him to sit up and look at her. He never moved. Slipping out of her jacket, which she’d unzipped before entering the room, she hung it over the back of a chair and turned her head back to where he lay as she removed her gloves.

Hotness personified. Biting her lower lip, she continued to watch him. For some reason, when she looked at him, she wasn’t scared; she didn’t want to curl up in a ball. She wanted him to touch her, to show her that there wasn’t anything wrong with her.

It was going to break her heart when he found his mate. There hadn’t been another person she’d ever been so open with before. Not even in her own family. But with him, it seemed so natural and the right thing to do.

And that kiss! Her body shivered when she remembered how it felt to have his arms around her and his lips upon hers. There was no mistaking his arousal, and it only increased her own. I wonder what he’d do if I walked up to him and kissed him. She laughed at herself and shook her head, sitting and pulling out the postcards she’d picked up.

As she wrote on them, her gaze continued to find its way back to the man on the bed. Finished with all except one card, her pulse so high, she pushed to her feet and walked to the bathroom, grabbing her bag along the way. Her hands shook as she turned on the shower and stepped inside. Eyes closed, Lera fought to find and hold onto the control she knew she had. The water hot as she could handle it, she dropped her head and let it sluice over her skin.

The image of Kori wouldn’t leave her mind. A wail rose up within her, and she barely managed to clamp it down behind her lips. Why do I want things I can’t ever have? Allowing herself a few moments of weakness, Lera cried until she managed to pull herself back together. She finished her shower and stepped out. Once dry, she began to dress and tugged her shirt down over her belly, hiding the scars. Facing herself in the mirror, she took stock of what she saw.

Black leather pants which would flare over her heeled boots once she got them on. A skintight dark green shirt with a spade royal flush spread across the front and the word “Lucky” beneath it.

“We can do this,” she said softly to give herself a much needed burst of confidence. “Rissa’s depending on us.” And she knew it was true. She would be willing to walk through hell in order to get her friend back.

Brushing her hair, she quickly drew it up into a high ponytail, only to take it back down seconds later. Lera made sure her necklace was tucked in. Another deep breath, and she grabbed her bag then headed back out into the room. Kori sat at the table, and she wanted to smirk at the heated look his eyes got when he stared at her.

“Have a nice nap?” she asked as calmly as she could manage.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice more graveled than normal. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Yes. It is a bar. I can dance in this, and I like it.”

He jerked to his feet and strode toward her, his face set grimly. Lera swallowed back her yelp. Kori stopped right before her and gazed at her.

“You want to dance, Lera, you dance with me. I will kill anyone—”

“Who tries to touch me. I know how we’re supposed to act, Kori. Don’t worry.”

She moved to the bed and sat to put on her boots. His eyes followed her, and Lera fought down the desire to shudder. The way he continued to stare at her made her feel like his next meal. Tossing her head, she looked at him while tugging down her pant leg. “Are you ready?”

She saw the flash of wolf in his gaze and refused to cower. Something was riding him hard, and he was close to losing his control. Lera didn’t fear for herself, but she didn’t want him battling his wolf.

“Ready,” he bit off.

Pushing to her feet, she walked toward him and stopped. “You seem edgier than usual, Kori. Are you okay? Do you need to let your wolf run? We can go in a bit; I don’t mind.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re very astute. I’m okay, mo anam.”

She wouldn’t argue with him on it. No one could know better than he could if he was fine or not. “I can’t figure it out; what language is that?” she asked, grabbing her jacket off the chair and slipping it on.

“Gaeilge.”

Lera smiled. “Gonna teach me to speak the language?”

“Would you like to learn?” he questioned from behind her.

“Yes.”

“One day, beag amháin, I’ll teach you.”

She sighed and faced him. There was a hungry look in his eyes again. Lera pulled her hair out from her jacket and zipped it. “Let’s go.”

“We’re taking—”

“Your Humvee,” she broke in. “I know.”

“This going to be a habit of yours, Lera? Finishing my sentences?”

“I don’t know. Gonna say something I may not expect?”

His gaze became molten as it raked over her. “Remember what I said about tempting the devil?”

“Yes, I remember. You’re a scary man, Kori, but believe it or not, I’m not scared of you. You wouldn’t lay a hand on me in anger. Come on. The sooner we find this Butch Caine, the closer I am to finding Rissa. And the closer we are to going our separate ways.” I may not be scared of you but I sure as hell am scared of how you make me feel.

He muttered something she didn’t catch but was right behind her, pulling on his black trench coat as they walked to his vehicle. Lera couldn’t meet his gaze when he held the door for her. She felt small sitting in the interior. And the interior shrank when his large body filled it.

“Nice Humvee,” she commented, looking over her shoulder into the back. That’s a lot of space back there. Imagine what he could do you with all that room. Lera slammed those thoughts to an abrupt stop and stared out the windshield as the powerful vehicle started.

The closer they got to the bar, the calmer she felt. Focusing on Rissa took pressure off sorting out the feelings that Kori created within her. Despite her anxiousness, Lera didn’t jump out the moment they stopped; she waited until the vehicle had been shut off and Kori walked around to open her door.

They walked to the door, side by side, but before they entered, he touched the sleeve of her jacket. “Be cautious of your surroundings, Lera.”

“I will. Besides, what can go wrong? I have you with me.” She smiled and pulled open the door. After pasting the mask of indifference upon her face, she stripped off her gloves before shoving them in her pocket, then entered.

Lera strode up to the bar and saw the same man there from yesterday. He looked up and raked his gaze over her before glancing past her to where she assumed Kori stood. She didn’t turn to look; there was no point. He was watching over her.

“Well, well, if it ain’t One-oh-eight,” he said.

Propping one foot up on the step, she arched a brow. “One-oh-eight?”

“Honey, we don’t get many in here who can down Fighting Cock like you did, so I’m callin’ you One-oh-eight.”

She smiled. “I’m guessing that’s the closest thing I’ll get to a compliment here, so thanks.”

“You’d get other ones, but guys are scared of your man.”

“It happens,” she said with a shrug. “Now, what about Butch Caine?”

The bartender bent down and slapped something on the scarred bar top before sliding it toward her. “This is where he hangs out. Otherwise, he’ll be in here after eleven tonight.”

Lera reached for the paper, and the man stepped back and raised his hands. She cocked a brow at him. The man didn’t say anything just glanced in a direction past her shoulder. Turning, she saw Kori leaning against a wall, women on either side of him, but his gaze was on the bartender, and it was cold and dangerous. Then, he placed his eyes upon her, and they softened. Shaking her head, she faced forward again, ignoring the feeling doing its best to grow in her belly.

“Thank you.” She slipped the paper in her pocket.

“You the one they call One-oh-eight?” a guy slurred from beside her.