Their gazes locked in silent confrontation, each gauging the other’s intent and the strength behind it before Rule finally gave a slow nod.
“This time,” Rule stated softly. “This time, Lawe. But before I see another take what I know should be yours, I will step around you and claim her myself. One way or the other, no matter the enmity it may cause between us.”
Lawe clenched his fists at his side and forced himself to hold back the anger that pounded through his veins and kept his animal instincts on a sharply honed edge.
He hated that feeling. That feeling that there was another entity rising inside him and threatening to steal the control he’d honed over the years.
His gaze remained locked with his brother’s until the elevator doors slid closed and the small cubicle carrying Rule made its return journey to the lobby of the hotel. He stood, watching the numbers on the digital display count down the elevator’s progress until it reach the lobby.
He made himself stand there, watch, and wait as he fought the primal instincts tearing through him.
He’d managed to keep it at bay during the past months since he’d rescued Diane and realized she was his mate. He’d reined it in and assured himself that he could deny that savage impulse to claim her. Each time they’d come in contact, each time the battle became harder, but he’d still managed to walk away.
As he stalked to her door, that control he’d had most of his life was fading away. The animal part of him was clawing its way to the forefront of his senses, and its attention was locked on a single, subtle scent.
The scent of its mate.
The mate that even now the rational, logical part of his brain was screaming to deny. He couldn’t have her. He wouldn’t allow himself to risk her. But he could ensure, at least for a little while, that the scent he placed on her was strong enough to keep even Rule at bay.
For a little while.
Diane had finished dinner and cleaned up her mess when she suddenly paused just inside the kitchenette, her gaze slicing to the door at the sound of a keycard sliding through the lock.
The soft hiss was a sound most people would have never detected, but most people hadn’t been trained by her paranoid uncle.
Perhaps paranoid was the wrong word to use. Her very cautious uncle.
In that second, her weapon cleared the holster she wore at the small of her back. The small laser-powered personal defense handgun had the look of the old-style Glock the military once issued, but it contained all the power of the adjustable laser-powered rifles.
The bursts of fiery energy could knock a man off his feet or put a hole in him the size of a bowling ball.
“Put your weapon down, wildcat. It’s just me.”
Diane froze, the weapon still held at her thigh by both hands as the door swung open and he stepped in.
Just me. Just—there was no “just” where Lawe Justice was concerned. There was nothing so simple as that word implied.
Confident, powerful, a supreme male animal and as fucking alpha as he could get, he stepped into the suite as though it belonged to him.
He was complicated, powerful, mysterious and rakish, wicked and seductive, and her entire body seemed to flood with warmth at the sight of him.
Diane remained still, her jaw locked in a deliberate attempt to exert control over herself and her reaction to the sound of the dark, sexually intent tone that had her body wanting to melt.
There were nights when the thought of him, of the touch she ached for, tormented her to the point that she wondered if perhaps he didn’t own a part of her already. At the very least, he owned her fantasies, her erotically charged, sensually tormented fantasies since the first moment when she had opened her eyes to find him standing above her.
Tall, his shoulders broad, his body powerful, the thick, heavy length of his black hair was much longer than it had been the last time she had seen him. He looked as dangerous as she knew he was. As primal and as savagely intense as she sensed he was.
Denim encased long, powerful legs and rode low on his hips to be cinched by a leather belt at his muscular hips. A white cotton shirt, the arms folded to the elbow covered wide shoulders and an impressive chest. Heavy Western boots covered his feet, a silver chain riding low around the heel.
He looked good enough to take a bite of, and her mouth watered to do just that.
The dark overnight growth of a beard shadowed his lower face—most Breeds couldn’t grow a full beard, but that rakish, next-day growth was the norm for those who allowed that sexy to-die-for look. And that was exactly the look Lawe was going for tonight. The look that stripped her down to bare bones, hard-core sex and the need to ride him until they were both exhausted.
Not that it would take her long to reach exhaustion after the past three months and a search that had driven her bat-shit crazy. But what a way to go.
“What are you doing here?” First replacing the weapon, she then unclipped the holster before walking through the suite. Passing the small living area as Lawe stepped into the room, she moved to the bed where she laid the weapon on the bedside table before turning to face him.
“What I’m doing here should be rather obvious.” Midnight black brows formed a V between the intense ice-cold violet blue eyes that swept over her.
Cold, cold eyes. She could never see what he was thinking, and she sure as hell had no idea how he felt from one second to the next. But she wanted to. There had been times she would have given anything to see behind the ice in his gaze.
“If you say so,” she agreed with a hint of mockery. “I’ve arrived safe and sound, Lawe, so you can go back to your own room, your own place or wherever you’re sleeping now. I’ll give you my report when I give it to Jonas in the morning. I’m too tired for the third degree tonight.”
She often wondered where he slept. And with whom. Rumor was, Lawe spent very few nights alone and his sexuality sure as hell didn’t rest.
She knew the Bureau had several apartments in town, as well as a safe house, where he and other high-level Enforcers stayed while in D.C.
What the hell he was doing here this late simply made no sense. Lawe Justice rarely, if ever, stayed in hotels unless he had the Presidential Suite. And she knew the three Presidential Suites were in use by the Russian Wolf and Coyote Pack leaders, as well as the Russian Feline Pride leader.
“I would have worried about you if I hadn’t known you arrived safe.” He surprised her with his reply. “Damned good thing I did too. You’ve just arrived and I can see how little you’ve taken care of yourself. What good did it do me to rescue you from certain death if you’re just going to commit suicide slowly?”
Never let it be said that the Breeds didn’t protect their assets to the best of their ability. They did. Even to the point that he was here tonight to ensure she had arrived and was tucked safely in her room.
“You prefer I do it quicker? That eager to be rid of me, are you?”
He snorted. “Beats watching you waste away day by day.”
Why, how sweet, she thought with savage mockery.
Yeah, right, that was why he was here all right, to check up on her health.
Bullshit.
He was there for the same reason she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Because neither of them had the self-control or strength of will to stay away from the other. And that terrified her. In the ten months since he’d rescued her from a Middle Eastern hellhole, he’d consumed not just her fantasies but also her thoughts and her determination not to care for anyone but Rachel and Amber.
She didn’t need this. Not here, not now, not at a time when she was trying so very hard to make too many decisions where her life was concerned.