Jonas Wyatt stepped out of his office, coldly indignant to face the icy composure of his secretary's porcelain face and frozen ocean green eyes.
There was a heartbeat of time when his entire system froze, his control shattered and the animal that lurked just beneath the skin jumped free. A single moment out of time when every cell in his body clamored to claim his mate.
Just as quickly he reined the animal back, jerked at the ragged edges of his control and fought the hunger tearing through his system.
As always, the battle was nearly lost in the face of Rachel's perfect, mannequin-like composure. He had had more than one fantasy regarding breaking that composure.
Unfortunately, each time he thought about giving in to those fantasies he came smack up against the ripe appearance of motherhood. She was with child, but it didn't stop him from wanting her, needing her. It didn't stop him from doing everything he could do to make her life easier, to make her job easier, to give her the man he was inside--at least as much as possible.
He was gentle with her while he was harsh with others. He made a place for her in his life while he held others at bay. And still, she seemed as cool, as unemotional, as she had the day she began working with him.
"Actually, Senator Racert asked for the meeting," Rachel answered with icy disdain. "You've put him off for over six weeks now, and he does control the Bureau's governmental purse strings as well as carry significant weight in the Breed Appropriations Committee."
"Their governmental purse strings couldn't concern me less." He leaned against the doorframe as he crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to glare at her.
It was damned hard to glare at one's mate, especially when the child she sheltered so protectively was listening, and reacting so closely to every word he said.
He could sense that. The girl child she carried paused whenever she heard his voice, just as she would pause when she heard her mother's. No others. She flat out didn't give a damn if anyone else spoke. Hell, he couldn't even curse anymore. And that had been damned hard to do anything about. But he ensured that the child stayed calm. If the child was calm, then that meant the mother was calm. Keeping her settled during her pregnancy to ensure the child's continued good health and, therefore, the mother's happiness, was all that mattered to him.
"Senator Racert's voice is important to the Breed community as a whole." Rachel rose from her chair, still graceful and exquisitely beautiful as she moved across the room to the file cabinet.
He followed. He couldn't help himself. The damned file cabinet was taller than she was.
He reached it before she did, pulled the top drawer free, then plucked the file out of her fingers and inserted it in its proper place.
He was more than aware of the look of narrow-eyed suspicion she shot him as he pushed the drawer closed before following her back to her desk.
"Cancel the appointment with Racert," he demanded as she retook her seat.
There was an edge of suspicion in her gaze as she looked up at him.
"Stop hovering over me." Ice dripped from her voice, as though his presence did nothing to affect her.
He may have believed it if the child, a perfect barometer for the mother's feelings, didn't choose that moment to let out a silent whimper of distress. Her mother was clearly upset, off balance, perhaps even frightened. Because whatever emotion her mother was feeling, so then was the child feeling.
Jonas backed up with three deliberate steps, waiting tensely for the child to regain the calm he wanted the mother to feel.
It happened slowly. One step at a time. Rachel turned back to the computer and that impossible itinerary she was working on.
"Racert is double-crossing us," he finally told her, careful to keep his voice quiet. "He's after information."
"Which you give so rarely and with such perfect manners," she mocked him.
He grunted at the comment. He would tell her anything she wanted to know; she only had to ask. Racert, however, was another thing entirely.
"Cancel the meeting," he ordered her again.
"No." There was pure stubborn refusal in her voice.
His lips thinned.
"Fine, I'll leave the office." He stalked back to the doorway.
"Go ahead." He heard the shrug in her voice. "I'll handle the meeting myself. I believe the meeting involves the latest projected budget, which you haven't yet turned in. I'm certain I can handle that."
Jonas assured himself he wasn't paling at the very thought of Miss-Financial-Tight-Ass creating his budget.
A growl slipped free before he could hold it back.
Rachel's brow arched as disdain filled her expression. But from the child, he felt something far different, something he was certain he should at least protest.
Amusement. The baby was amused, which meant her mother was much more amused.
"Are you laughing at me?" He paced back to her desk, flattened his hands on the dark wood and leaned forward. Close enough that he could smell her unique scent. Close enough that the hunger ripping through his guts sharpened to a dagger's stroke. "Be careful, little girl," he warned her softly, holding her gaze, watching the wild green become darker, wilder. "Or you may well get far more than you're bargaining for."
The amusement drifted away and something far darker took its place.
Jonas eased back. He forced himself from the suddenly reckless anticipation that poured from the woman, despite the composed features, the iron will and stubborn determination. Slowly, he straightened, turned and forced himself back to his own office.
There was desire there, in the sweet scent of her, in the tension that tightened between them each time he went near her. There was hunger. The scent of it was like a soft summer rainfall. It was fresh, tinged with the scent of the earth itself, and a sweet moisture that he knew could become addictive as hell.
The woman was everything he could have wanted in a mate. She was the dream he'd never allowed himself to wish for. Because it was the greatest danger he could bring to his life, and the future of the Breeds.
This was a temptation he knew he could never allow himself to weaken to. It was a promise he had made to himself. It was a vow. And this small woman was shredding his determination one look, one word, one breath at a time.
His mate would never know mating heat.
CHAPTER 1
FOUR MONTHS LATER
For the first time in her life, Rachel Broen was terrified. It wasn't fear. It was soul-destroying, mind-numbing, silently screaming terror.