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A Stroke of Enticement Page 6
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"Mrs. Kildaire."
Releasing his hand, Kimberly stepped back. "Do come in." She led them through the hallway and into the sunken living room off to the right.
There were far more people mingling below than Annie had expected. "I thought this was supposed to be a small dinner?"
Her mother's smile did nothing to warm the cool disapproval in her eyes. "I invited some university people. I thought your . . . friend would feel more comfortable if it wasn't just family."
It was a very subtle insult. Professor Markson was worthy of a family dinner. Zach wasn't. Temper spiked, not so much at the slight against Zach—he was tough enough to take care of himself—but because Annie couldn't believe her mother would try to sabotage her and Zach's relationship with such calculated rudeness.
But before she could say something she might not have been able to take back, Zach squeezed her hip lightly, and said, "I'm honored you went to so much trouble to put me at ease." His voice was smooth whiskey and effortless warmth. "I know how close Annie is to you, so I'm delighted by the welcome."
Annie saw her mother's expression falter for a second, but Kimberly Kildaire was nothing if not quick on her feet. "Of course. Come, I'll introduce you." She led them into the knot of curious people below.
Caroline was the first to come over. Though she told herself not to, Annie found herself tensing up as she waited to see Zach's reaction to her cousin. Caro was one of her favorite people in the world. She was also quite impossibly stunning. Annie had never before been jealous of the way her cousin drew men to her like moths to a flame—no man had ever mattered enough. But Zach did.
She saw him smile at Caroline's exuberant welcome . . . but it was the same kind of smile as he'd shared with his sisters. "Congratulations on your baby," he said, his voice gentle.
Caroline beamed. "Can you tell? I'm not showing yet. I can't wait to get big and Madonna-like! Oh, and I want the glow everyone talks about—I so want the glow!"
Zach's lips quirked. "I don't think you need to worry. You already glow."
Caroline laughed. "You're a charmer, aren't you?" She looked to Annie. "I like him, Annie. He'll give you beautiful babies."
"Caro!" Annie didn't know whether to blush or thank her cousin for breaking the ice so completely. Several people laughed, and Zach sent her a teasing smile, his eyes heating in a way they hadn't for Caro.
"How did you know?" her mother asked pointedly. "Caroline is right—she's barely showing. Even most women don't notice."
"Her scent, Mrs. Kildaire," Zach replied with open candor. "Changelings always know when a woman has a life within her."
"A breach of privacy, wouldn't you say?" Kimberly raised an eyebrow.
Zach shrugged. "It's simply another sense. Ours just happens to be keener in that area—no different from an M-Psy being able to see inside the body, or you yourself being able to tell her condition because you know the subtle physical signs."
Annie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from interfering. Caro took the chance to whisper, "Oh, he's good. Wherever did you find Mr. Scrumptious?"
Annie threw her a quelling look. "Where's Araan?"
"My darling husband is driving back from a meeting in Tahoe. He'll probably make it in time for dessert." She smiled. "I know what you're having for dessert."
Annie felt Zach's hand move on her waist. It was obvious he'd heard Caro's outrageous prediction, and that he liked the idea. However, when she looked up, it was to find his attention not on her, but on someone else—a stranger her mother had just waved over.
"This is Professor Jeremy Markson," she was saying. "This is Annie's . . . friend, Zach Quinn."
Given that her own temper was close to igniting, Annie figured Zach would blow this time—he'd been blunt in saying he didn't share. But, to her surprise, he remained completely relaxed.
"Markson." Zach inclined his head in masculine acknowledgment. "What's your field, professor?"
"Molecular physics," Markson said. "It's a fascinating subject. Do you know anything about it?"
Arrogant twerp, Annie thought. "No, I don't, Professor," she said before Zach could respond. "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me."
The professor blinked, as if he hadn't expected her to speak. "Well, I—"
"Tell them about your latest project," her mother encouraged, shooting daggers at Annie.
Markson nodded, and off he went. Annie's eyes began to glaze over after the first few minutes. "That's so interesting," she said, when he paused for breath. "Do you work with my father?"
"Yes." He beamed.
"Where is Dad?" Annie asked, deliberately changing the focus of the conversation.
Her mother waved a hand. "You know your father. He's probably lost in research." The words were light, but Annie heard the hurt Kimberly had never quite stopped feeling. "He promised he'd try to be here by the time dinner was served."
Which meant, Annie knew, that they'd be lucky if they saw him tonight. "What's on the menu?" she asked with a smile, hating that bruised pain in her mother's eyes.
Kimberly brightened. "I made your favorite vegetable dish fo an entree." Her words were sincere, her love open. "Don't start, Caro," she said, when Caroline opened her mouth. "I made your favorite pie, too."
"That's why you're my bestest aunt."
Thankfully, the conversation stayed light and easy from then on. They were about to move into the dining room when wonder of wonders, her father walked in. Erik Kildaire was dressed in the rumpled clothing of a man for whom looks mattered little, but he seemed to be with them today, rather than in his head.
Her mother's face lit up from within, and Annie smiled. "It's good to see you, Dad," she said, accepting her father's enthusiastic kiss on the cheek. Love swelled in her heart, but it was a love that had learned to be cautious. She'd never had the tangled relationship with her father that she had with her mother, but that was probably because he'd never been around to argue with her. A different kind of hurt altogether.
"And who's this?" he asked, looking Zach up and down while sliding one arm around her mother's waist.
Annie made the introductions, but her father's reaction was not what she'd expected.
"Zach Quinn," he muttered. "That's familiar. Zach Quinn. Zach—" The fog cleared. "The same Zachary Quinn who published a study on the wildcat population of Yosemite last year?"
Beside her, Zach nodded. "I'm surprised you recognized my name."
"Not my department," her father acknowledged, "but my good friend Ted—Professor Ingram, was very excited by it. Said it was the best doctoral thesis he'd seen his entire tenure."
Zach had a Ph.D.?
Annie could've kicked him for keeping that from her, especially when her mother shot her a look of accusation. Thankfully, her dad said something at that moment and drew her mom away, leaving Zach and Annie alone for the first time since their arrival. She raised an eyebrow. "Keeping secrets?"
He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "To be honest, I didn't think anyone would realize or even care. You told me they were math and physics people."
"My father knows everything about everyone. And a Ph.D. is a Ph.D.." She rapped a fist gently against his chest. "If you'd told me you had one, I wouldn't have worried so much about my mother's reaction—even she can't argue against a doctorate."
"Your mother's not the one whose opinion I care about. Does the Ph.D. matter to you, Annie?" The look in his eyes was guarded.
The hint of unfamiliar vulnerability caught her unawares. "Zach, if degrees mattered to me," she said honestly, "I'd have married the triple-Ph.D.'d physicist my mother picked out for me when I was twenty-two. Or the MD with more letters after his name than the alphabet. Or the multipublished grand pooh-bah who stared at nothing but my breasts for the entire meal."
His smile creased his cheeks. "The man had excellent taste."
"Stop making me blush." But she wasn't, not any longer—somehow, Zach Quinn had earned the trust of her vulnerable femini
ne heart.
It startled her, made her afraid.
But before the dark emotion could grow, Zach bent to brush his lips gently over hers, acting in the way of changelings, not caring that they had an audience. When he drew away, she leaned into him, fear—if not forgotten—then at least temporarily caged.
Chapter 8
Two and a half hours later, Zach found himself on the balcony sipping coffee while Annie stood inside, chatting with her cousin. God, but she was beautiful to him—all he wanted was to take her home, hold her safe, and keep her just for himself.
It was an unalterable part of him, this possessiveness, coming from the cat and man both. But no matter his primitive instincts, he wouldn't do that to Annie, wouldn't contain her that way. Still, he needed to mark her—to take her until his scent was embedded so deep into her skin, no one would dare question his right to her. An animal desire. Yet often, the animal's heart was far more pure, far more honest, than the thinking man's. "Mr. Quinn."
He glanced at Kimberly Kildaire. "Please call me Zach."
"Zach." A regal nod. "Let me get straight to the point—from the instant Angelica told me about you, I was prepared to dislike you."
"I guessed."
"I've changed my mind."
Zach raised an eyebrow. "The Ph.D.?"
"No. In certain departments, any monkey can get a Ph.D." It was a gauntlet.
He picked it up. "Good thing I'm a leopard, then."
Her lips threatened to smile. "I've always pushed Annie toward men who are more cerebral than physical."
Zach waited with a predator's quiet patience.
"It was a conscious choice," Kimberly said without apology, "my way of ensuring she would never again be put in harm's way. I even rejected a brilliant engineer as a possible match because he frequently goes off to work on projects in remote locations. His humanity mattered less than the danger he might've exposed Annie to."
Her eyes met his. "To be quite blunt, changelings take that possible danger to the nth degree. Your very nature is one filled with the violence of the wild."
He was floored by her candor. "You're very aware."
"I know others might say I'm intellectualizing away prejudice, but I'm no bigot." She held his gaze with a strength he suspected had been honed by surviving a lifetime of hurt. "I simply want my daughter safe. I saw her almost die once—it's not something I want to witness ever again."
His cat detected no lies in her. "I'll keep her safe."
"I have a feeling you will. It seems I made a critical error—in thinking about how you could lead her into danger, I forgot that predatory changelings are also known for their willingness to protect to the death." Her eyes—Annie's eyes—clashed with his. "But that's not why I've decided for you."
"Oh?"
"It's because of the way you look at her, Zach. As if she's your sunshine." Her voice caught. "I want that for my daughter. Don't you ever stop looking at her that way."
Zach reached out and touched her lightly on the arm, sensing how very brittle her composure was at that moment. "I give you my promise."
A sharp nod. "Excuse me, I should go mingle."
As she walked away, Zach blew out a slow breath. It was becoming clear to him that he'd have a far harder road to travel with Annie than he'd initially thought. She'd grown up watching her mother love a man who, quite bluntly, didn't love her the same way. After only one meeting, Zach knew that Erik Kildaire was devoted to his work, while Kimberly was devoted to him. The insouciance with which Erik had crushed his wife's heart an hour ago—bussing her on the cheek and telling her he had something important to do at the lab—had angered Zach enough that he'd had to fight the urge to say something.
Annie would never have to worry about that kind of hurt with him. Once the cat decided on a woman, it didn't flinch. Devotion was almost obsession with those of his kind, and he was at peace with that. But words wouldn't convince Annie—she'd have to be stroked into trusting him, into relying on him. Because not only was she wary of loving, she'd become almost mutinously independent in her desire to avoid opening herself up to pain.
I like living alone. I intend to keep it that way.
That, he thought, the cat rising to a hunting crouch, was just too damn bad. But even as the predator in him prepared for the hunt, a vicious vulnerability grew in his heart. Heneeded Annie's trust, needed the surety of knowing she'd come to him no matter what. If she didn't . . . No, he thought, jaw setting, that simply wasn't an option. Annie was his. End of story.
"What magic did you do with my mother?" Annie asked, letting them into her apartment.
"That's my secret." He closed the door and prowled along behind her.
Her heart went into hyperdrive.
She was going to go to bed with him, with this man she'd met only yesterday. But it felt as if they'd never been strangers, it was so very easy being with him.
Careful, Annie.
Fear rose up in an insidious wave, showing her image after image of Kimberly's face as she watched Erik walk away. Was that what awaited her? Did the question matter now that she'd decided to take the chance and weather the hurt when it came?
"Hey." Zach brought her to a halt, nuzzling at her neck from behind as his hands closed over her hips. "Stop thinking so hard."
"I can't help it," she whispered. "I'm not . . ." She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to say this without betraying how incredibly important he'd become to her in such a short time.
"You're not the kind to kiss and walk away as if it meant nothing," he said, running his lips lightly over her skin, inducing a shiver. "Neither am I. This is no one-night stand."
"Changelings live by different rules."
He licked at her, and she felt her purse slip from her hand to drop to the floor. "Zach." A whisper, perhaps a plea.
He hugged her tighter against him. "We might be more tactile than humans, but it's nothing casual. It's about friendship, about pleasure, about trust."
"It sounds wonderful."
"It is." Another kiss pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. "Trust me, Annie. I won't hurt you."
At that moment, she almost believed him. Closing her hands over his, she let her body melt into the hard masculine heat of his. "You make me feel beautiful."
"You're more than beautiful," he whispered, "you're sexier than sin."
"You're complaining?" She dropped her hands as he moved his to the side of her dress and tugged at the tie that held it up.
The tie came loose. "I didn't like the way Markson was undressing you with his eyes."
"He was not." Feeling the dress fall open at the front, she shifted so he could pull the tie out of the inner loop. He did . . . and the fabric dropped.
"Mmm." It was a murmur of utter pleasure as he began to pull the dress down over her arms. "I'm the only one allowed to undress you"—a kiss on her bare shoulder—"to pet you."
Pet.
The word reminded her that he wasn't human, wasn't anything tame. "You're very possessive." Air hit her back, her breasts. Then the dress was falling over her fingertips to pool on the floor.
Behind her, he made a sound strikingly close to a growl, one hand caressing the curve of her waist. "You already knew that, Annie."
Of course she had. A predatory-changeling male, no matter how playful, had possessiveness built into his soul. For as long as she kept his interest, he would demand everything from her. She knew she'd give him what he wanted . . . everything but her faith. That, she thought, she no longer had to give. Her parents' marriage had shattered her belief in forever a long time ago. Sadness might've beckoned, but then Zach slid his hand up to lie flat over her stomach, big, hot, and darkly possessive, and her thoughts fractured. "Zach?"
"Shh. I'm looking."
The husky statement made her body clench inside, her thighs tremble. She was wearing black lace . . . for him.
"Annie." He groaned and reached up to unhook her bra. "I want to see."
An inst
ant later, she found herself standing there in nothing but her panties and a pair of strappy sandals. She was in no way ready for the boldness with which he moved to cup her breast. "Oh!" She trembled at the touch, at the erotic sight of his hand on her. His skin was tanned, rawly masculine against her creamy flesh. When he squeezed, it was all she could do not to collapse.
"You're so pretty, Annie"—he spread the fingers of his other hand on her stomach—"I could lap you right up."
Completely in his thrall, she raised her hand to reach back and touch his face. He nipped at her with his teeth, chuckling when she jumped. "I want to be in bed. This is going to take some time."
Her brain turned to mush right then and there, and when he shifted to scoop her into his arms, she was so startled, she squeaked and grabbed on to his neck. "I'm too heavy, Zach. Put me down."
"Questioning my muscles?" A wicked smile. "Kiss me."
Unable to resist, she obeyed, not stopping until he laid her down on the bed and rose. His eyes glittered the green-gold of the cat, hunger in every stark line of his face. She watched, heart in her throat, as he stripped off his jacket, then removed his shirt. He was built sleek and powerful, a predator in human form.
She sighed in unashamed pleasure and saw his eyes gleam as he bent down to get rid of his shoes and socks. "Now yours," he said, moving to the bottom of the bed and tugging off her sandals one by one, following each removal with a long, slow look up her body.
By the time he finally got on the bed beside her, she was so aroused that she rose to claim a kiss of her own. When he nipped at her lips as he seemed to like doing, she nipped back. He raised his head, his hand closing possessively over her breast. "Do that again."
Eyes wide, she did. He purred into her mouth. She broke the kiss to stare at him. "What was that?"
A feline smile. "Nothing." He reclaimed her lips, and a second later she felt that vibration again, that sign that he was something other, changeling to her human. It made her shudder with the need to crush her breasts against him.
"You purr," she accused when they parted.
"So do you." Coming over her, he began to kiss his way down the line of her neck. He seemed to get distracted between the curves of her breasts, leaving her to clutch at the sheets in unadulterated pleasure as he sucked and kissed. When teeth became involved, she cried out, feeling her body tighten into a fist so tight, a single touch would send her over.