Saving Suki (Horse Mountain Shifters Book 4) Page 7

  Her keys jingled as she unlocked the door to the servant's entrance. The doc hadn't cared how she came into the house, but his executive assistant certainly had. Her ears still rung from the reaming out she'd gotten the one and only time she'd parked her car in the garage during a downpour. She hadn't seen the harm. The Doc had downsized to one vehicle so there was plenty of room, but Mr. Wormer had glared at her as if she were an insect. The pure hatred in his eyes still shook her to her core.

  As soon as she stepped over the threshold, the smell of dead animals being cooked assaulted her senses. "Ugh!" she gagged. At Mrs. Hammond's house, the scent had been tempered by other fragrances, but the air around her was difficult to breathe. She pulled the neck of her shirt up to cover her nose as she braved the distance between the mudroom and the area where the stench was most pungent. She coughed, choking back her revulsion all the way into the kitchen. She nearly dropped her purse as she stopped in her tracks, and her jaw fell toward the floor. Splatters of grease marred the black stovetop’s usual shine and a different pan filled with rendered animal fat occupied every burner. Some of what had been cooked remained, but she wasn't familiar enough with the cuts to recognize the type of meat. Her throat quivered as she pressed her lips together, willing her recent meal to stay down.

  "You want some mutton? There's plenty."

  She whipped around to confront the unfamiliar voice, and her gaze settled on Dash Hammond. "What are you doing here?"

  "Isn't it obvious? Mal and I are checking out the kitchen of his house. It’s been a few years since he lived here, but we found our way around the joint."

  "Oh...okay." Her eyes widened and her heart pounded as her mind ran through all the angry words and accusations her one and only love had hurled at her as they exited the lawyer's office after she had learned of her brand-new status as an heiress. She breathed through her mouth, forcing the tears on the brink of welling to disperse. Mal was just confused and he misunderstood. Once I set the record straight, he’ll apologize.

  "We're got spicy Italian sausage too, but I polished off all the bacon." He stepped toward the stove and fanned the aroma toward her. "Mmmm. Can't beat that." His eyes mocked her even as he smiled.

  Suki's stomach roiled and the taste of bile seeped up over her tongue. She covered her mouth with her hand. "Excuse me," she managed in a muffled tone as she rushed to the closest bathroom.

  After dropping her purse on the decorative marble floor, she locked the door and flipped on the fan. She sat on the toilet lid under the vent, but the scent was still overwhelming until she opened the window. Disgusting.

  Throughout all the years she'd been dreaming of Malcolm, she’d never considered he might be an omnivore. Is it a deal-breaker? She nibbled on her short nails as flickers of their first meeting morphed into thoughts of his strapping physique. Nope. Definitely not. She shook her head. Wait...what am I even fantasizing about? He thinks I'm a money-grubbing stalker now. This is what I get for trying to be all sexy-mysterious and force him to remember me. If I’d just introduced myself as his dad’s nurse, he wouldn’t think I’m a looney.

  Suki stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Okay, girl, this is an opportunity, not a setback. You can do this.

  She punctuated the self-pep-talk with a few deep breaths before reaching for her second-hand, designer bag. She retrieved her make-up pouch and touched up her face, adding a little extra blush and lip gloss. She searched her cosmetics stash until she found the tiny sample of expensive perfume, she'd gotten the last time she'd been to the mall. Yes! After popping off the colorful, plastic stopper, she dabbed the sweet fragrance just beneath her nostrils. That should do it!

  After inhaling deeply and releasing the long breath, she unlocked the door and headed towards the sounds of laughter. She found Dash and Mal hooting and hollering in the middle of the formal sitting area. Dirty plates were strewed all over the surfaces of the gorgeous, cherry-finished coffee table and matching side tables. She shuddered at the thought of even one drop of grease falling onto the luxurious, handwoven wool rug beneath them.

  As soon as they noticed her gaping at them from a few feet away, all the enthusiasm disappeared as if a giant vacuum had sucked the joy right out of the room. An awkward silence hung in the air between them as Malcolm's stare bore into her. She swallowed down the lump in her rapidly drying throat as she managed to take a few steps forward. "Good evening."

  He nodded. "Suki."

  Dash tilted his head back as he looked down his nose at her, sneering without intensity as if she wasn’t worth the effort. “You sure you don’t want to join us for some eats?” He rubbed his belly before picking up his plate. He held the dish below his nose as he sucked air through his nostrils.

  Ah, this whole thing was designed to upset me. Nice try, guys, but you’re amateurs—I’ve had bitches trap me in the women’s bathroom to tell me I should have been aborted. “No thank you, but I’m glad you’re enjoying the house. If you don’t mind, I’ll be going upstairs to study until I’m ready to go to bed.”

  Mal shrugged. “Of course. Mi casa es su casa, right?

  As soon as the words had spewed out of his mouth, Mal felt like shit. Why am I being so hateful about this? Maybe I should just talk to her. He glanced at Dash and was greeted by his friend's raised eyebrow and sideways smirk.

  "You're wavering, ya wuss." Dash shook his head. Why don't you go ahead and sign the deed over to her and put your balls in her purse while you're at it?

  Malcolm averted his gaze and slumped his shoulders. "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

  Dash chuckled. "Don't I? Right now, you're butthurt because you don't like acting like a dick."

  He blew out a gust of breath. "Well, sorry. I don't have your experience in the area." He tossed a shit-eating grin Dash's way and both men nearly burst into a roar of laughter.

  "Whatever. I'm gonna grab my bag and get ready for work."

  "Yeah, run off to silence innocents. I'll clean up this mess on my own." Mal started to carefully stack the dishes.

  "See what I mean? You should be leaving those there to stink the joint up until the maids come." He pointed his finger at his friend.

  Mal scrunched up his nose. "That's disgusting, not to mention inconsiderate."

  Dash pursed his lips together and batted his eyes in an exaggerated and mocking fashion. "Aww, you wouldn't want to make the pretty lady uncomfortable..." His brow furrowed and he frowned. "Except that was the plan, and most of my work is regular police duties.”

  The stallion shifter placed his palm on the back of his neck. "I meant it’d be rude toward the maids.” Dash opted not to reply and disappeared into another room while Mal looked around at the disaster they’d made of the place. His head spun as he sat stewing, being pissed at Suki for not being straight with him, wanting to smack Dash for being too much Dash, hating himself for being an ass, especially hating himself, but also despising his old man for finding a way to screw with him from beyond the grave. “You motherfucker,” he grumbled, nearly under his breath. Leave it to that asshole to pinpoint a woman who could fuck me up this bad and then set me against her.

  “Later, shit-bird,” Dash’s voice jerked him into reality as the wolf shifter popped back into the room.

  Mal ran his gaze up from his friend’s hiking boots, noting his old jeans and ragged sweatshirt. He lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You look like the shit-bird. Unless you’re going undercover as a homeless person, your ensemble is inappropriate. Since when did cops start dressing waaaay down?” He straightened his fingers so his hand was flat as he reached toward the floor and motioned as if he were pushing against some imaginary force

  “Man, shut up. There’s a missing girl. I’m going into those miles of woods out past Cole Creek to see if I can sniff her out with my super nose.”

  His ears pricked at the mention of the dense and foreboding area where a group of high school kids, all humans, looking for a place to party and engage
in some under-age drinking had ended up lost for a good sixty hours before a search party rounded them all up. Those damn brats managed to panic and run in different directions, every time one made a noise, the others were scared into hiding. Afterward, rumors of the area being haunted made the rounds, but Mal and the rest of the shifters understood how sound whooshed through the area. “You better wear a GPS tracker or something—don’t want the old wind-banshee to get you.”

  Dash rolled his eyes. “Joint mission with the game warden—that guy knows every tree and blade of grass; believe that!”

  Mal widened his eyes. “You told some random game warden you’re a wolf?”

  “Hell naw, he’s half wolf and half one of yours but presents as a horse. How long you think we’ve been populating this mountain? You don’t think we’ve infiltrated all the government offices?”

  Mal nodded, secretly a bit relieved his buddy would be in such good hands. “Alright then. Hope you find her.”

  Dash’s lips pursed into a grim line and his eyes darkened. “Me too. She’s a house-cat shifter—her half-sister or stepsister or something is marrying one of your matriarch’s grandsons so everyone’s up in arms. I don’t care about the political stuff though. I just hope she’s okay.”

  “Do you know her?” Mal ran a hand through his hair.

  “No. She’s several years older than us, but I know her sis—Maddy Mittens.”

  Mal put his hands about a foot in front of his chest. “You mean the cougar with the boom and the pow?” He stood, reaching behind him toward his rear as he spoke the last word.

  Dash nodded. “The very one. I hear she’s ready to tear half the mountain to bloody shreds, and her sis ain’t the only one. Some nineteen-year-old, human step-child of one of the wolves went missing too. I’d have taken off work to look after you, but…”

  “Nah, hell no. I’m a grown-ass man. You go find those women and kick the shit outta whoever took them. Good luck.” Mal looked away as unwanted thoughts of all the terrible things that could have happened to those ladies rushed through his mind. A pit gnawed at his belly and he swallowed back bile as the sound of Dash’s footsteps became fainter before disappearing entirely.

  He pushed the unpleasantness away by focusing on the mess he’d made. He collected the dirty plates and glasses before carrying them to the kitchen. Even as he cleared away all the garbage they’d left around, Suki’s sweet scent lingered in the room. He straightened his spine, determined not to fall for any pheromonally-induced love spells as he tossed the trash in the plastic bag he’d brought from the kitchen. After returning to the scene of the crime, he frowned, wishing he’d not been so sloppy while cooking.

  He grabbed a sponge as he attempted to wash away memories from the short time he and Suki had spent alone at Mama Carol’s place. He looked at the name brand embossed on the bottom of one frying pan—some company too expensive for a working stiff like him to have even heard of, but his dad would have wanted his meals cooked in the best. At least it’s easy to clean.

  He scoured the dishes and dried them with a kitchen towel before he stared at the filthy stovetop. The surface splatters wiped off without any problem, but the dark brown marks left beneath were more difficult. He ran the damp sponge back and forth over the area vigorously, but no matter how much he pulled up, some remained. Damn it, this is another reason why I don’t eat shit like this at home—too much trouble…ugh. He placed a hand over his bloated stomach. Why’d I even do all this shit? Am I a fucking child? He gritted his teeth as he rinsed out his sponge and then wrung out the excess water before returning to his task.

  Continuing his endeavor, he glanced around the large kitchen with its stainless-steel, restaurant-quality appliances. Yellow crystals glimmered through the muter brown tones of the granite countertops, coordinating with the backsplash tiles leading up to custom, white cabinets—not much had changed since he left home.

  A tiny smile curved his lips as he tapped his fingertips against the door to the pantry. Everything screamed luxury—his dad liked high-quality craftsmanship even though he likely never so much as fried an egg on his own stove. Mal ran his finger along the side of the sink’s craning faucet. The kitchen had been Mama Carol’s domain. He’d spent a lot of time sitting at the counter talking to her or doing homework while she prepared meals or cleaned. He had memories of hot cocoa on cold days and cold lemonade in the summer, Mama Carol’s smile as she watched her boys enjoying what she’d made, and more than a few finger-shaking scoldings. Somehow, he didn’t mind when she punished him, but his father’s rebukes had always filled him with rage—he remembered that much at least, her warmth and concern had stood in stark contrast to his dad’s coldness and hatred.

  As he dried one last pan with a dish towel, he drew a heavy breath. A recollection flashed in his mind: there was a liquor cabinet in dad’s study, sturdy oak with glass panels; I remember the colorful labels on all the different bottles and how often they changed—every day at least one new one. That smell too—the stench from the empty bottles in his trashcan. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away before the anger sleeping beneath the surface could rise. After putting away the pan, he found the broom. As he swept the floor, his mind wandered to the meeting at Mr. Pyke’s, particularly the expression of shock on Suki’s face when the country lawyer read the will. It didn’t seem fake. Is it possible she had no idea? Maybe I was too harsh. Still, she could have told me she worked for my dad, but I guess it wouldn’t have been a big deal if she hadn’t been in the will. Maybe I should apologize.

  He washed his hands before leaving the room and heading toward the room he and Dash suspected was Suki’s when they scoped out the house before she arrived. As he approached the stairway, a pungent but sweet fragrance greeted him. His heart pounded and sweat dampened his skin. He wiped his forehead with his arm, swallowing down the lump forming in his dry throat as he grabbed ahold of the stair rail to keep the dizzy head rush making him sway from knocking him backward. With each step, the smell intensified and its effects became more overwhelming. He tightened his abdominal muscles in a futile attempt to stop what felt like a weasel running around in his stomach. Pushing onward, his pulse raced and his pants became less comfortable as his dick stiffened.

  Suki buried her face in her pillow, wanting to scream but too embarrassed to allow the anger to flow. Tears burned her eyes as she punched the mattress. Her stomach churned from a mixture of sadness and disgust brought on by the stench of the meat. Mal’s masculine scent had layered overtop, combining the two into something both alluring and off-putting all at once. She sat upright, her senses swirling as if she were intoxicated. Perspiration misted her sweltering skin, dampening her clothing. The tingling and throbbing between her legs had her squeezing her thighs together to sate the aching desire, but the action only served to produce more scorching heat. She slipped her hand down the front of her pants and checked her underwear. Shit, I must be absolutely dripping. I need to change before I soak through my pants.

  She hopped off the bed and shed her pants and panties at break-neck speed before tossing them into her hamper. After retrieving a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, she stepped into them, yanking them up over her hips as fast as she could. She searched her dresser for a nightgown, but a loud knock on her bedroom door startled her and she jumped back on a gasp. Panicking, she grabbed the pants she’d been wearing out of the dirty clothes and hurriedly wiggled back into them. Another knock sent her scurrying to the mirror to wipe her tear-stained face with a tissue. She opened her dry-as-dust mouth to tell him to wait a minute, but her voice seemed stuck somewhere between her voice box and her uvula.

  “Suki, I’m coming in.” The words to make him halt lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t make a sound as her door flung open and the tall, broad-shouldered man she’d been dreaming of since she was a kid came rushing through the entrance. “Just what the hell are you doing up here?” His eyes were wide and darkened by his expanded pupils while a
rosy hue stained his cheeks. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  Her lips parted and she shook her head. Unintelligible noises filled the air between them but none that expressed her indignation at his question. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Me? I haven’t done anything but rest on my bed.”

  He eyed her, his tongue absently brushing across his bottom lip as he moved closer, circling her like prey. “You sure?” He sucked air in through his nose before heading straight to her hamper and placing his fingers on the lid. Her jaw dropped and she screamed as she rushed forward to stop him, reaching out and smacking the top. As gravity and momentum closed the hamper, Mal snatched his hand back, and to Suki’s utter horror, her arousal-drenched underwear had been hooked by his thumb.

  She snatched her undies out of his hand before he had a chance to examine them more closely. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He lifted his chin and looked down at her, a smirk playing on his lips as he shifted his weight and widened his stance, making his already considerable height and musculature take up more space. “Were you fantasizing?”

  The beating of her heart seemed to jump up into her throat as her cheeks burned. She shook her head adamantly. “As if? No way.”

  “Bullshit. Your skin is flushed.” His perfectly straight teeth showed as he grinned. “And those panties—” He lifted his fingers to his nose and sniffed. “Did you touch yourself?”

  The fluttering in her stomach and her trembling legs made her indignity harder to sell, but she tried, pointing at her door. “Get out!”

  He shrugged, taking a step backward. “You sure? I won’t force you.” He touched his chest before waving his hand toward her and back at himself. “This thing between us—in the air we breathe, muddling our thoughts and taking control of our bodies—it’s primal, thousands of years of survival instinct pushing us to pass on our genes.” He clenched his jaw, creases forming on his forehead. “I can’t fight it, and I won’t try. You want me to leave? Fine, but if I walk out the door, I’ll go straight to my car, leave Horse Mountain, and you will never see me again.”