Her father inclined his head. “This is acceptable.”
“We’ve heard rumors Lelandi may be with triplets,” her mother said, her voice hopeful.
“Mrs. Wildhaven, it’s too early to tell.”
“Please, call me Eleanor.”
“Certainly. But I wish to discuss another matter. We’ve lost our doctor and Lelandi has her heart set on Doc Weber of your pack joining us. Would this be agreeable?”
Hrothgar cleared his throat. “I, of course, would prefer he stay at Wildhaven with my pack.”
“But,” Eleanor said, “having triplets can be difficult for even lupus garous. Because Lelandi has a fondness for Doc Weber and he has for her…” She spread her hands, palms up.
Darien waited for Hrothgar’s approval as Wildhaven’s newest pack leader. Hrothgar gave a stiff nod.
Turning to Leidolf, Darien said. “I know you want to avenge Larissa’s death. I ask that you allow me the honor since it is my pack, she was my mate—no matter how wrongly that came about—and the villain is one of my pack.”
“As much as I’d love to tear the bastard from limb to limb, I acquiesce. Should you not succeed, I won’t wait for either of your brothers to jump into the fray.”
“Agreed.” Darien looked at Jake and Tom, both who reluctantly nodded. “Settled then.” He motioned to Tom, who opened the door and Mrs. Hastings and several other ladies hurried in with apple cider, shrimp, and cheese dips with crackers. “I’ll tell Lelandi you’re here.”
He had every intention of delaying the inevitable, feeling an insatiable urge to prove to her that she wanted to remain with him and not return to her family no matter how much he told himself the notion was too ridiculous to consider.
Chapter 25
BUSINESS AS USUAL THAT’S THE WAY EVERYONE PLAYED their roles as Sam organized the drinks in the dining room, Tom coordinated the side dishes, Jake managed the deliveries of the turkeys, while Lelandi, Carol, and Silva finished baking the pies. The aroma of roasted turkey and gravy filled the air, making Lelandi’s stomach rumble, although she didn’t think she’d be able to eat, she was so uptight.
Carol peered out the kitchen window where the table sat in an alcove. “Snow’s still falling. This will be the best ski season Silver Town’s had in five years.”
Silva cast a questioning look in Lelandi’s direction, but though she caught it, she didn’t acknowledge her concern. Everyone was wearing polite smiles, the conversations centering around the weather, a hunt, some whispered speculation about Sam and Silva, but nothing about the reason for the feast. Lelandi was sure the conversations about that had already been held behind closed doors.
Darien walked into the kitchen, stretched his arms above his head, and smiled at Lelandi.
Silva stammered some excuse and hurried out of the kitchen. Carol took longer before it sank in that the alpha leader needed a moment alone with his mate. Her face suddenly flushed and she quickly made her excuses and hurried after Silva, shutting the door behind her.
“Why didn’t you say something to me?” she scolded outside the kitchen.
Darien rested his hands on Lelandi’s shoulders. “You smell of cinnamon, apples, and brown sugar. Good enough to eat.” He kissed her ups, not waiting for her approval, slipping his tongue into her mouth. “Hmmm, taste like brown sugar, apples, and cinnamon, too.”
She melted like the dabs of butter she’d spread on top of the lattice-work pie crusts. * Have… have you seen anyone with bite marks?”
He groaned. “Lelandi...” He shook his head. “I’m afraid either Angelina didn’t bite her attacker hard enough or the scar has already healed. No matter. We’ve got him where we want him. I’ve felt the distance between us when we’ve made love the last two days. I know you feel hurt that I wouldn’t tell you who I most suspect. But I have to do this my way, knowing you the way I do.”
She lifted her gaze from his chest to his eyes. “I love you, Darien, but I don’t want to be kept in the dark.”
He kissed her lips again, his fingers pushing a couple of buttons through the buttonholes on her silk blouse. He slipped his hands inside her blouse and fondled her breasts through the lacy bra.
“Ahh, Darien, you taste of apple cider, the good stuff.” She tangled her tongue with his for another spicy taste.
Voices drew nearer the kitchen, but suddenly stopped and footfalls moved discretely away. Lelandi suspected Silva and Carol were warding everyone away in lieu of a “Don’t Disturb” sign.
Darien tackled Lelandi’s belt, but she stilled his hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m feeling testy.”
He captured her mouth with his, kissing her Into submission and moved her hands away from her belt, then unbuckled It. “We’ll enjoy the meal more after we relieve some of the tension between us.”
She suspected there was more to his need to make love to her than he was admitting. She recognized his craving to prove she was his and couldn’t understand what had triggered it again. Unless it was to confirm to his gathered pack that he had claimed her. No, it seemed to run deeper, like when he felt his pack members were hitting on her at the tavern, and he had to show she was his and only his.
He rubbed his hand between her legs, his fingers pressing the jeans and satin panties between her feminine folds, stealing her thoughts, eliciting a soft moan from her.
“Say you want to wait and we will,” he whispered into her ear, his voice husky with desire. He leaned his hardened erection against her and rubbed, “say you want me, Lelandi.”
She could no more resist him now than she could in her dreams. Seizing the buttons on his shirt, she nearly ripped them off in haste. She ran her hands over his bare chest, her fingernails flickering over his already pebbled nipples. With a groan, he yanked down her jeans and panties in one fell swoop. Leaning her against the kitchen table covered in flour, granules of brown sugar, and speckles of cinnamon, he shoved away mixing spoons and a sieve that clattered to the floor.
He dipped his hand in a bag of brown sugar, then sprinkled it on her bare breasts and stomach. Lelandi smiled. “You’re supposed to eat your meal, before you get dessert. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”
“I was more of a red meat kind of guy—although all of that’s changed.”
He shrugged out of his jeans and pushed her legs apart. But before he penetrated her woman’s core, he licked the sugar off her breasts and stomach, sending streaks of pleasure rifling through her. She needed this as much as he did. She wanted the closeness, the loving, the solidarity, before he had to fight. And if it gave him strength, all the better.
She combed her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the feel of the satiny strands and of his velvet tongue lapping at her skin. His fingers slipped down her stomach, tracing the slight swell in her belly, lower, to her short curly hairs, combing through them to discover the dewy opening between her thighs. Stroking her nub, he triggered flames of desire to sweep through her, a delicious torment, begging to be appeased.
She dug her fingers into his back, the toned muscles of the lupus garou tensing with her touch, and she prodded him to penetrate her. She listened to the soothing sound of the thunder of his heartbeat, his heavy lusty breath, and her heartbeat pounding beneath his.
Darien plunged deep inside of her, his stiff cock thrusting with feverish intent, his pelvis rubbing her mound until every nerve was ready to explode.
“I love you,” she mouthed against his lips, remembering the dreams when she couldn’t hear her words or his. For the first time since he’d made the announcement about having the feast, she felt one with him again. Then an earth-shattering release compelled her to cry out, her body trembling with satisfaction, but Darien muffled her voice with another erotic deep kiss, his tongue probing her mouth.