Last Wolf Watching. Rhyannon Byrd

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СКАЧАТЬ Socialite made it clear she was available. His family loved her, and she had the pedigree and prestige they’d been looking for, while I was something he was ashamed of, like a secret from the carnival freak show. Ross is one of those whom I can’t read, but once I saw him for what he really was, I told him never to come near me again. He married little Miss Sunshine, but won’t give up on the fact that he can’t have her and me.”

      After delivering the embarrassing account of her colossal stupidity, she reached to open the door, but Brody grabbed hold of her arm, his fingers fever warm against her skin, reminding her that he was so much more than human. As a Lycan, his core body temperature ran much higher than normal, even hotter when it was closer to a full moon. “Where do you think you’re going?” he rasped, immediately releasing her arm, and as she held his stare, she noticed a warm glow beginning to seep through the deep, dark green of his eyes, as if backlit by the searing flames of a fire.

      She wet her bottom lip, wishing she could get a read on him, but as always, whenever she threw out the soft, diaphanous net of her power, she met the hard resistance of his will, catching nothing. Taking a deep breath, she explained, “I’m just going to tell Mr. Nobody that he needs to get lost.”

      He shook his head, that oddly lit gaze cutting from her back to Ross’s distant figure on her porch, and she was aware of his right hand clenching into a tight fist against his hard-muscled thigh. “I’ll tell him,” he said silkily. “You stay here.”

      Oh, no. Not in this lifetime. The last thing she was up to dealing with tonight was a fight between those two, and she knew from the hard cast of Brody’s expression that he was looking forward to it. For a fleeting moment, Michaela actually wondered if he was jealous, before reminding herself that he couldn’t care less about her personal life. No, he probably just needed to work off the frustration of getting stuck with her until Max’s training was complete and her life could get back to some kind of semblance of normalcy. Brody didn’t care anything about her personally. He was just a good guy who didn’t want to see another innocent person get hurt.

      But if that’s the case, then why did he sound so possessive at the clearing?

      To be honest, she didn’t know, and wasn’t even sure that she wanted to. After having her heart trampled, she didn’t think she was up for another round, no matter how incredible her hormones thought he was. At worst, he just felt sorry for her. At best, he probably figured they could have some fun between the sheets while he was stuck with her. Michaela knew better than to think that anything more than that could come from something between them—just as she knew she couldn’t risk it. No, something told her that the damage Brody could inflict on her would be devastating compared to the stupidity she felt at allowing herself to get used by Ross Holland.

      She now viewed her involvement with Ross as an attempt to grasp at something she was worried she’d been missing, but Brody…God, this strange, unsettling interest searing through her system felt more like a necessity. Something that pulled on her, drawing her in, and that made him more dangerous to her sanity than her ex could ever be.

      In the end, Ross had left her feeling used—but Brody Carter could leave her in pieces.

      â€œLook, Brody, I appreciate what you did tonight. I know you only did it because you’re friends with Torrance and Mason, and because you probably feel bad for me, after what happened to Max, and I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I don’t need you to worry about Ross. A sleazy lowlife like him I can deal with. If anyone comes at me with claws and fangs, howling at the moon, then by all means, they’re yours. I promise.”

      Despite the hot burn of frustration in his gut, Brody found himself biting the inside of his cheek as he fought the urge to grin at her words, thinking she was a lippy little package. She tried to hold his stare, until succumbing to an adorable yawn, ruining the “I can handle everything on my own” image she was going for. He admired her spunk, but there was no denying that he liked the fact she needed him.

      What he didn’t like was liking it.

      You’re not making any sense, you jackass. She’s screwing with your head.

      He wanted to deny it, but there was no point. Every part of him, every cell, every thought, had centered on her since he’d first seen her at the clearing earlier that night. And if he were honest, even before that.

      â€œCome on,” he murmured, reaching for the door handle. “You’re all but dead on your feet. Let’s get rid of pretty boy there so you can get some rest.”

      â€œThis isn’t what you signed up for,” she argued, her gaze narrowed on her ex through the windshield. “Really, Brody, I can deal with this.”

      It was on the tip of his tongue to point out the obvious fact that if that was true, the prick wouldn’t still be bothering her. But he kept quiet. She looked exhausted. So beautiful that it hurt a part of him deep inside to even look at her, but weary. Gray smudges darkened her big eyes, her mouth tight, skin pale. And the slow, melodic drawl of her accent had grown thicker, which, he’d noticed, happened when she was upset. She’d been to hell and back tonight, and he had no intention of letting some jackass give her a hard time. “My job is to keep you safe, so there’s no point in arguing about it. Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, opening his door.

      Reaching across the cab, she latched on to his forearm, the touch of her hands on his body sending a tremor of shock through his system. “Damn it, Brody. What do you think you’re doing?”

      â€œCalm down, Doucet. I’m not doing anything. Just gonna walk you to your door. You can tell him to get lost all on your own,” he told her, trying to sound relaxed while deep inside, in a part of him he’d thought he’d buried, he was burning with a cold, steady fury that he refused to look at too closely. But he couldn’t forget it was there, just as he couldn’t stop thinking of the many different ways he’d like to take Ross Holland apart, piece by piece.

      And the hell of it was that he couldn’t blame his anger simply on the fact that the creep wasn’t getting the hint about Michaela wanting to be left alone. No, he knew better. He hated him because the bastard had had her. Didn’t matter that Brody had no intention of letting himself fall victim to her considerable charms. He still hated every man who’d ever known the sweetness of her mouth, the softness of her skin. Who’d ever pressed his lips beneath the fragile edge of her jaw, drawing her delicate, milky-white flesh against his teeth, and marked her as he thrust himself into the slick, hot depths of her body.

      Something ugly and vile and vicious ripped at his insides with the thought, and he realized with a silent snarl of frustration that hate was too light a word for his reaction. No, what he felt was deeper than hate, deeper than jealousy. It was something primal, visceral. Something base and primeval, bleeding both from the possessive nature of the beast and the man.

      Irritated by the track of his thoughts, he ripped his gaze away from her soul-deep blue eyes and stared at the human. He stood just beyond the soft glow of the porch light, but Brody’s keen vision allowed him to see clearly. His gut twisted as he took in the guy’s appearance. He was tall and broad, on the lean side, not bulky. And he was…pretty, for God’s sake. Cover model handsome, with thick brown hair and crystal blue eyes, features as even and perfect as a Hollywood sex symbol.

      Brody wondered how a guy like that got down and dirty in the sack. Ross Holland looked like the stiff-lipped type who probably folded СКАЧАТЬ