Pick of the Litter Read online

  But the rest of her? She watched as her reflection shrugged just before she opened the door to go in. She wasn't what a man like Lukah could expect. She would face facts and thank him for all he'd done for her, return the necklace and return to her normal life, the life she'd had before she'd taken a wrong turn into disaster.

  "So ... I want details. The more sordid the better,” Terry said, breaking her out of her self-induced trance just as she reached the desk.

  "We had lunch,” Marissa said quietly. “It was nothing more and nothing less."

  "Oh don't give me that, Mar. I've been around enough to know when a man is hooked. That man had little hearts spinning around his head, he's so hooked. What happened?"

  "He probably realized that little Miss Red had nothing interesting to say to a man like him.” Shawna smiled patronizingly. “He needs someone more intelligent, someone who knows the ways of the world. He needs someone like..."

  "You?” Terry asked sarcastically.

  Shawna preened. “Well, yes, like me."

  Marissa sat down at the desk, dropping her purse in the drawer. “I don't want to talk about it.” She picked up her headset and started her afternoon, her heart warring with her mind.

  * * * *

  "Tony, where is the lady I came with?” Lukah asked as he waved the waiter over.

  "She left sir, asked me to let you know that she had to get back to work.” He took one look at the expression on Lukah's face and beat a hasty retreat back to his own work.

  Nashe was speaking to the people at another table, his white chef's coat drawing the attention of the diners. He dropped his hand down on the man's shoulder, smiling at the lady that was with him. Then he turned toward Lukah. “She probably didn't want to be late for work."

  "No, something's wrong,” he said under his breath.

  "Well, there's only one thing to do.” Nashe grinned, slapping his cousin on the back. “Go get her, Luke."

  Lukah smiled. “I plan to."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Four

  All afternoon Marissa jumped every time someone stepped up to the desk. Her heart leapt in her throat so many times, she felt as if it were permanently lodged there. Her nerves were shot. All she wanted to do was go home and take a hot bath, then slink off to bed to nurse her wounds, both physical and emotional.

  Life seemed so different since Saturday night, and it was only Monday. If only Terry hadn't given her the wrong address, if only she'd backed out like she had thought to before going. Then she'd never have fallen in love with a man so far out of her reach as to be impossible to touch.

  "A penny for them,” Terry said, her mouth close to Marissa's ear, making her jump.

  "Damn,” Marissa breathed, her hand going to her chest. “Don't do that."

  "I'm sorry, but you've seemed so far away this afternoon. You don't even seem excited about Mr. Studly. God, Marissa, if I had a guy like that coming after me the way he did you, I'd be constantly bouncing up and down in my chair."

  Marissa looked around, noting that Shawna was gone.

  "She's on lunch. It's quieted down around here. It's just you and me now. Spill. What's going on?” Terry asked determinedly.

  "Nothing.” Marissa sighed, her shoulders drooping. “Okay,” she said finally as Terry kept looking at her expectantly. “It wouldn't work out, so I decided to end it before it could even begin."

  "It won't work out? Have you even kissed the man yet?"

  "No, but trust me. I have my reasons, Terry.” Marissa stared around the lobby, wishing someone would come and ask questions, to stop this conversation.

  "Okay. So, was he an ass during lunch? Does he have bad breath and terrible table manners? Did he wipe his mouth with his tie or something?"

  Marissa couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Lukah using his tie as a napkin. “No, he has beautiful manners. It's just ... okay, truthfully? He owns Abstract and about a zillion other restaurants. The man is seriously rich. He just feels sorry for me because of what happened to me."

  "Sorry? That wasn't pity I saw in his eyes earlier, Mar. If there's one thing I do know about men, it's when one is interested in what you've got. He's more than interested."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not,” Marissa said defiantly, knowing deep in her heart that she was lying not only to her best friend, but to herself. She clicked the button on the ringing phone, glad that she could leave this conversation. But she knew Terry; when she got something in her head, the woman was like a bulldog with a bone .

  She managed to stay busy enough to keep Terry from bugging her the rest of the afternoon and quickly picked up her things to leave when her shift was over. Waving a quick good-bye to Terry, she hurried away from the desk, the cute little panther in her purse. She left the flowers at the desk, but slipped the note into her purse as well, tucking it next to the necklace that she hadn't had a chance to give back to him.

  Hurrying down the sidewalk, she kept glancing behind her. Every car that drove by slowly made her start. Every man that walked up next to her made her jump, despite the bustling throng of people on their way to the train. She didn't breathe an easy breath until she was in the train and it was moving.

  Getting home seemed to take forever. When she finally clicked open the last lock on her door and pushed inside, she sighed. There was a discontented sound to it.

  "Stop it,” she ordered herself sternly, dropping her purse and mail on the side table and turning to lock the door. “Stop thinking about him, stop wishing you could see him. Just stop."

  She stared around the room, noting the homey living area that flowed into the small dining area with the second hand table she'd refurbished. Mismatched chairs ringed it, painted different shades of white and cream. Her kitchen was really nothing more than an alcove with a stove, refrigerator and sink situated on two of the walls with a tiny amount of counter space.

  A short hallway led to the single bedroom and the bathroom. The bathroom was the saving grace of the apartment. It was a decent size, with a claw foot tub that was deep and comfortable. A small shower stall was on another wall with a sink and counter that was almost the same size as the one in the kitchen.

  Marissa pushed away from the door, walking toward her bedroom. With another sigh, she flipped open the buttons of her work jacket, pushing it off her shoulders with a wince. There was a large black bruise on her shoulder and a bite mark just below it on the upper curve of her breast. More bruises made themselves known as she finished stripping, carefully picking up her clothing and putting it away. Taking her bathrobe from behind the bedroom door, she headed towards the bathroom.

  Water flowed into the tub, mixing with the thick gel of her bubble bath and creating huge mounds of soft, luscious-smelling bubbles. Dropping her robe on the hook behind the door, she stepped carefully into the steaming water, hissing as it stung a cut on the inside of her thigh. It rose to her chin as she relaxed against the sloping back of the tub. A soft moan escaped her lips.

  Closing her eyes, she forced a deep breath slowly out of her mouth, ordering her body to relax, to let the water wash away the day. It began to work, her muscles relaxing, the pain of her bumps and bruises fading. She felt better.

  A knock upon her front door popped her eyes open. She sat up, sputtering as a wave of bubbles splashed over her face while she flailed in the water. She wiped her eyes, then grabbed the side of the tub.

  * * * *

  Lukah stood outside, nervously staring at the knob and waiting for it to turn. He couldn't help but wonder what she would think when she saw him standing there. Would she think him a stalker? Would he scare her more?

  "Ah,” he growled, closing his eyes tightly for a moment to gather his control. Living in a clan of panthers, control was a necessary thing and one that was taught to all litters from the very first day. The wildness of his kind flooded his veins, forcing him to ruthlessly gather his feelings and rein them in.

  A sound opened his eyes and he watched as the doo
r opened slowly, exposing the woman he was there to see. He inhaled sharply, surprised by her attire. The robe stuck to her wet body, a wisp of bubbles clinging to ankle and calf exposed by the short hem.

  "Hello,” he said softly, closing his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. “I hope I'm not intruding..."

  "What are you doing here, Lukah?” she asked softly.

  "I was worried. You left the restaurant so suddenly, you didn't even say good-bye. I wanted to know if you were okay.” He took a small step closer to her, his nose twitching as he caught her scent. There was the smell of gardenia-scented bubbles, but under it was her scent, one that had him longing to pull her in his arms, to breathe her in until he could smell nothing but her.

  "...fine. I just had to get back to work.” She sighed, seeming disgusted with herself. “That isn't the entire truth, Lukah."

  "May I come in?” he asked softly, her tone causing him to stiffen.

  Marissa glanced up and down the short hall as if just realizing they were standing in her doorway. “Yes, I guess you should.” She backed up and he stepped inside her small apartment, instantly taken by the homey charm of the place.

  "This is nice,” he said honestly, smiling at her.

  "It's no where near as nice as your home, Lukah. That's kind of what I need to talk to you about.” She took the few steps into her tiny living area, waving him to the couch while she curled up into the overstuffed chair that she'd scrimped and saved to buy.

  He sat, but scooted forward until he was perched on the edge of the cushion, his hands dangling between his thighs. “I'm listening."

  "This isn't easy,” she started.

  Luc had no intentions of making it easier on her. He sat even further forward, slowly closing the distance between them. She looked up, as if to judge his emotions while she searched for what to say. “You are beautiful,” he said. “Beautiful and smart, kind and sweet. I can't stop thinking about you."

  "Oh God,” Marissa breathed.

  He smiled, hearing her breath catch as he moved closer. “I don't know what happened today, sweet Rissa. But whatever it was, don't let it stop what is growing between us."

  "What is growing between us?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

  He raised his hand, letting just the tips of his fingers rest against her face, tracing the curve of her cheek and her ear until he brought her face up by running his fingers over the line of her jaw. Slowly, cautiously, he leaned even closer, his eyes watching her every expression. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting.

  "I'm going to taste you,” he whispered just seconds before his mouth closed gently over hers. It was a soft kiss, one that seemed to do just that, taste of her lips before he pulled back a bit. His eyes opened and he saw her watching him, many emotions seeming to tangle in her soft purple gray depths. Licking his lips, he groaned. “I knew you'd be sweet,” he whispered huskily. “I didn't know you'd be this delicious."

  "Lukah,” she whimpered. “What are you doing?"

  "I'm wooing you, Marissa,” he whispered, closing the short distance between them to find her lips again. This kiss was longer but just as gentle, his mouth moving against hers, rubbing her lips with infinite care. His breath hissed in his lungs, seeming to clog as her taste exploded through him once more. He could feel his panther wanting to be free, wanting to mate with her, to make her his in the way of the clan. He wanted to claim her with teeth and hands and his cock, which pulsed with a maddening throb, almost demanding that he take her.

  Only the thought of what she'd been through, of the bruises and bites and scrapes that he'd seen upon her body kept his kiss gentle, kept his hands fisted in his lap and his panther leashed. He had time for the wounds to heal, wounds created before he walked into that bar, drawn by the sound of her screams. He would make sure she was as wild for him as he was for her before he even thought of taking this further.

  He ended the kiss, holding his hand against her face as she opened her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her lashes fluttering and her breathing a bit ragged, making him smile. “I don't know what happened to spook you today, sweet one,” he said softly, his unusual accent giving the words even more impact, “but I do know that I don't pity you. I am not interested in you because you needed me. I'm interested in you because of what I sense inside you, inside here.” His hand slipped from her face, dropping to rest just below her collarbone.

  "But ... but you're rich. You could have anyone, be with any woman you wanted. Even Shawna..."

  "That one reminds me of Lucinda,” Luc interrupted. “Just blonde."

  Marissa laughed, her hand rising to her lips. “You're right, but then so is she. I wasn't raised with money, I wasn't raised with the things that you take for granted."

  He pressed his fingers against her soft lips, wishing inside that he'd used his mouth to quiet her. “One of these days I will tell you how I was raised. But for now, can we not just see where these feelings will take us? I care for you, Rissa."

  He could see her mind racing and knew she wanted to tell him no. Moving his fingers, he let his lips play over hers once more, hearing her sigh and feeling her response in the eager movement of her mouth beneath his. Carefully, he used his tongue, licking her lips gently and hearing her moan, her lips parting.

  Lukah reached over, easily lifting her in his arms, settling her on his lap and leaning back on the couch, his mouth and tongue playing willingly with hers. She felt soft in his arms, her damp body settling against his as if she were made for his arms alone. Her head tucked against his arm. He stroked his hand down her back, his touch soothing and exciting at the same time.

  "I don't want to hear no,” he growled when he lifted his head, knowing she could feel his hard cock against the softness of her hip. “I won't press for an answer tonight. Friday will be soon enough. Go back to your bath, Rissa, before I lose my head and take you as I long to.” He picked her up once more, putting her back in the chair and standing, unconsciously shifting the long bulge in the front of his pants. “See what you do? This is not pity. This is want; pure, simple desire. But I won't push, not yet, not until you're ready. You're safe with me."

  Bending, he took her mouth once more, pulling away with a growl. “I'll see myself out,” he said harshly, turning toward the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Don't forget to lock up behind me.” Then he was beyond the door, closing it quietly behind him. He stood in the hallway, waiting until he heard the sound of the locks being turned before he headed toward the elevator.

  * * * *

  The week seemed to take forever to go by, Marissa vacillating between wanting to be with Lukah and being afraid that she wasn't good enough for him. Friday arrived and she still wasn't sure what she wanted to do.

  The night he'd shown up at her apartment, she'd gone to bed dreaming of the way he had kissed her. But in her dreams it was even more. He'd picked her up in his strong arms, carrying her to her bed and laid her down in the center. Following her down, he'd opened her robe, gently tracing the marks and bruises caused by the attack, his lips following his hand until he found her nipple. Drawing the soft peak into his mouth, he'd wrung moan after moan from between her parted lips, her body writhing beneath him. His hands stroked her body, his lips doing things to her no other man had ever done.

  He'd spoken words of love. Of want and need, of devotion that was everlasting. He'd made love to her softly, healing her torn flesh with his love.

  She'd woken from the dream, her heart racing, her body in the midst of the most amazing spasms of pleasure. She'd barely been able to breathe, wanting more. Her hand reached out, feeling only mattress, even as she wished he was with her. She stared at the phone on the side of her bed, remembering the phone number he'd written on the card that was still in her purse. He'd come if she called, she knew he would.

  But she hadn't, instead turning away on her other side and closing her eyes, forcing herself to relax. Sleep had been elusive after that, as if that
fickle beast knew she longed to return to those dreams of him. She'd spent the rest of that night curled in a ball, waiting for the morning and work.

  Lukah had stayed away, but he'd continued to make his presence known, sending token little gifts every day. The gifts were nothing like what he'd sent the first day. Instead, it seemed he wanted to make her laugh and to woo her with his thoughtfulness. One day he sent daisies, a bouquet in a plain glass vase, not huge and overwhelming as the roses had been. Those she took home and sat on her table, her eyes drawn to them continuously.

  It was Friday, a day she'd been alternating between dreading and anticipating the entire week. She jumped when Terry sat down next to her, dropping her hand on Marissa's shoulder.

  "So, what are you going to do? Before you answer, I have to tell you that if you don't grab this guy up and spend the weekend trying to see who can have the most orgasms, I'm going to seriously lose faith in you, Mar."

  Marissa couldn't help but laugh, even though Terry's words brought to mind the dreams she'd been having every night. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Ter. I thought maybe I'd just wing it."

  "Phew,” Terry laughed. “I thought I was going to have to have you committed. You'd be insane to give up a man like that. If he kisses like he looks, honey ... mmm mmm mmm."

  "He does,” Marissa couldn't help but say, enjoying the surprise on Terry's face.

  "Wait a minute. When, where, why, how ... forget the how, I think I remember the how. But you've got to give on the rest, girl.” Terry sat, fanning her face with her hand, her fair skin turning rosy as her thoughts went to the more base side.

  "I don't kiss and tell,” Marissa teased.

  Terry sat and stared at her for a second, a smile blossoming slowly on her face. “Finally,” she said. “I thought you'd lost part of yourself in that attack, Mar. You've been so closed off and jumpy all week long I was thinking of calling my sister to see if she could fit you in her schedule."