Bronx had been shocked to the depths of his soul when the wind shifted in the alley, and her scent wrapped around him. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there, but since he hadn’t heard a sound in all the time he’d been waiting, she must have been there when he arrived. Her sweet scent told him far more than she probably knew. His nose was particularly sensitive—every change in her emotions initiated a shift in her body chemistry.
When he’d first caught her, he’d sensed her hesitance, but there hadn’t been any hint of panic or genuine fear. She had to know he was watching for her, studying her movements and habits—the security upgrades alone would have been a dead giveaway. Learning she was homeless explained why she was using the showers and probably the computer time as well. What he didn’t know was where she’d been sleeping. Damn, the thought of his mate sleeping alone out on the street scared the hell out of him.
It would be more expedient to utilize one of the suites at Adler Oil, but taking her to his home felt right. It would also be more difficult for her to sneak away when the conversation became uncomfortable—and it would. Hell, one of the first questions he wanted to ask was why the damned pendant around his neck was vibrating. She remained quiet until he pulled onto the freeway.
“Wait. Where do you live? I don’t want to be too far from… well, from town. What happens if I have to leave? It will be too far to walk back.”
He had to give her credit—she was trying hard to cover her fear. It wasn’t working, but she was certainly giving faux bravado a valiant try.
“Nothing is going to happen that will make you want to leave, I promise. If, for some reason, you feel like you have to return to the street in the pouring rain, I will help you make alternative arrangements.” For the first time, he noticed the way she tilted her head whenever he spoke without looking directly at her. She was completely focused on his mouth—hell, she was reading his lips. Glancing at her ears, he caught the smallest glint of something resting on the top of her outer ear.
“What is your name?” Bronx deliberately whispered the word while looking to his left, and his suspicions were confirmed when she leaned closer and asked him to repeat what he’d said.
“I’m sorry I missed that. Could you repeat it, please?” It was clear to him she was dealing with a hearing impairment. He had several employees who dealt with similar challenges and understood some of the roadblocks it presented.
“I asked your name, Cheŕ.” He saw her eyes widen at the use of the endearment, a reaction he suspected she thought was hidden in the dimly lit car.
“Kenya Star. My name is Kenya Star.”
It took him a few seconds, but he finally realized why the name sounded familiar. His mother had a friend in college with the same last name. Since he didn’t believe in coincidences, he was going to wait until he could closely monitor her reactions before he asked if there was a connection.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kenya. I assume you already know who I am, but in the interest of keeping my sweet mama from grabbing onto a bolt of lightning from her celestial home and smacking me with it for being rude, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Bronx Adler, the owner of the businesses you’ve been breaking into the past several months.” He saw the flare of panic in her eyes and shook his head.
“You have nothing to fear from me or my family, Cheŕ. Hell, my sister, Brooklyn, is a fan. She spent years breaking into private and public buildings, retrieving stolen artifacts, and jewels for insurance companies. Once she learned you were able to skirt the new security measures, she made me promise to introduce you.”
Exiting the freeway, Bronx turned toward the lake. Pressing the button to activate the gate, he saw her eyes widen when the car slipped through the heavy steel panels with less than an inch to spare on either side. He’d misjudged the opening a few times when he’d first moved in—those mistakes had been damned expensive, but he’d risen to the challenge. The learning curve had been steep but remarkably short, a fact his accountant appreciated.
“Wow. How many people live here? Is this one of those packhouses I read about? Holy Humping Helen, is this a hotel?”
I drove around to the closest rear entrance activating the garage door, so we wouldn’t have to walk through the rain to get inside—not that it was possible for either of us to get any wetter than we already were.
“This is not a packhouse. As a matter of fact, our pack has never lived together the way some do. I’m anxious to hear about your magical background, Cheŕ. Your question suggests a certain level of knowledge about my kind, but first, I want to make certain you are safe.” She would always be safe with him, although he doubted she would believe him if he tried to reassure her. He didn’t know why she was homeless, but it stood to reason she wasn’t living on the street and breaking into his dealerships to shower because it was her life’s dream—that didn’t mean he wasn’t skeptical about why she’d targeted his businesses.
Bronx suspected Kenya wouldn’t willingly put herself in someone else’s hands until they’d gained her trust. She’d relaxed marginally until he’d pulled onto the freeway, then sat ramrod straight until he promised they weren’t going too far from downtown Austin. Her demeanor appeared calmer until they’d pulled into his garage. Turning to Kenya, Bronx placed his hand over the top of her forearm, stalling her when she would have reached for the door handle.
“No, Cheŕ, wait for me to open your door. There will be times when it’s a safety issue, and I want you to begin making it a habit to wait.” Moving quickly to the passenger side of the car, Bronx opened the door and nodded his approval when she placed her small hand in his, allowing him to help her from the soft leather seat.
Bronx deliberately left her bag in the trunk—no need to make it easy for her to escape. Moving through the door leading to the mudroom, Bronx saw Kenya shiver when the cool air from the air conditioning moved over her.
“Cheŕ, I want you to strip out of your wet clothes and leave them here.” Reaching for the robe he knew was folded in a nearby closet, he frowned when he turned back to where he’d left Kenya, but she’d disappeared. “Cheŕ?” If he hadn’t been looking closely, he’d have missed the slight distortion of the framed picture hanging on the wall near the door.
“I’ve wondered a thousand times how you were able to hide from the cameras, but you were there all along, weren’t you?” As she slowly reemerged from the camouflage, Bronx wondered what was more impressive, her magical skill or his first glimpse of her spectacular body. He was gobsmacked by how magnificent she was, despite what had to be the ugliest underwear he’d ever seen on a woman. She must have sensed his reaction because she started to fade once again. “Don’t. You are fucking spectacular, Kenya.” And mine. You don’t fully understand what that means yet, but it’s still true.
“Take off the rest, or this robe isn’t going to do you any good.” The deep red blush coloring her cheeks was a testament to her innocence. Chuckling silently, Bronx wondered when he’d last seen a woman blush. The utilitarian bra she wore slipped down her arms, revealing dusty rose nipples so tightly peaked, he knew they’d look spectacular in clamps. When she finally slid the tattered white cotton panties down, his breath caught. The neatly trimmed patch of dark curls shielding her pussy did nothing to deter his desire. He appreciated her attention to grooming but couldn’t wait to have her waxed smooth. Hell, just thinking about licking those pink folds sent a surge of blood to his cock. Wrapping her in the robe, he pulled her into his arms, marveling how perfectly she fit despite the considerable difference in their heights.
“Thank you for your trust, Cheŕ. It means more than I can tell you.” Taking her hand in his, Bronx lead Kenya to the master suite at the other end of the house. “Let me start the shower for you. It’s tricky.” Techy was probably a better term, but since she’d managed to bypass his best security system, he’d leave her to it if she wasn’t shivering and turning an eerie shade of blue.
Shifters weren’t intimidated by nudity, and he’d been pleased when she’d stripped without argument. He suspected her modesty would return if he gave her too much time to consider her situation. With the water running in the glass and marble enclosure, Bronx switched on the warming element of the towel rack. He doubted Kenya realized how rich in meaning her sigh had been as she’d looked longingly at the plush towels hanging over the rapidly heating rack.
“You won’t need to worry about turning anything off, everything is in on timers.” It would keep her from hiding out in the shower—a feature he’d happily override if they were showering together. Pushing his desire to the backburner, Bronx refocused his attention on his mate. Holding out his hand, he watched her eyes widen before her pupils dilated. He heard the hitch in her breath and smiled to himself as the sweet scent of her arousal assailed his senses.
“Give me the robe, Kenya. I’m going to make sure you get into the shower safely, then I’ll lay out something for you to wear. When you’re finished, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She slowly opened the robe, revealing… what the hell? How had he missed the pendant resting a few inches above her spectacular breasts? Because you zeroed in on her nipples and let your fantasy about clamps blind you to anything else. Reprimanding himself, he shook it off, deciding it was more important to get her into the shower than to begin asking questions.
The last thing he heard as he closed the door was her whispered, “Oh, I’ve died and gone to heaven.” He smiled, knowing the pulsing shower was hot enough to warm the chilled surface of her skin and powerful enough to massage the tension from her tight muscles. Setting out one of his Oxford shirts before grabbing clothing for himself, Bronx headed down the hall.
Damn, it felt right having her here and knowing Kenya would be walking into the kitchen in a few minutes, wearing nothing but his shirt made him wish he could enjoy the benefits of her scanty clothing. He could hardly wait until they finished talking. It was going to be difficult to resist slipping his fingers between her slick folds. Waiting to find his mate seriously tested his patience, and he had a feeling waiting to claim her wasn’t going to be any easier.