Bound By Desire (The Acadian Curse) Page 4

  “Grief can make you do terrible things.”

  “It just seems like too easy of an answer. I mean she was obviously talented and smart enough to find a way to curse your family far into the future. I can't imagine that she would have done it without thinking it through. She had to have some purpose in mind."

  Grant’s heavy brows pulled together as his eyes narrowed. “You obviously haven’t lost anyone dear to you.”

  Sarah shrugged. It was true. Her mother hadn’t died. She’d just left town. Her father had never really explained what happened. All he’d ever told her was that some people just weren’t cut out for raising a family. It wasn’t until Sarah was older that she started figure out what he’d meant. People’s reasons were rarely easily explained.

  Silence descended. It wasn't strained exactly, but neither was it entirely comfortable. There was simply too much that she wanted to ask him—a thousand questions that demanded answers in her clinical brain.

  She had the feeling that a big part of him wanted nothing more than to throw her in her truck and demand that she never come back. He was big enough to do it to. She could kick and scream all she wanted, but Sarah had a feeling that if Grant LaCroix really wanted her gone, he could make it happen.

  But he didn’t. Why?

  For better or worse, they had shared something far more intimate than the fumbling pleasure she had given him last night. The bond they now had went far deeper than that.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

  “You should be. If you understood what this thing inside of me is capable of, you’d be halfway home now.”

  “But he didn’t do anything,” she said.

  “He was chained up. And he was still able to talk you into….” He looked up. Concern shone bright in his eyes. He was trying to protect her, she realized. “You can’t trust him.”

  “But if what you said about the curse is correct, then this thing is just an amped up version of you. He’s your true nature.”

  “What makes you think I’m some kind of saint?” Grant’s brows rose as he fixed her with a hard stare.

  “I don’t know anyone who is,” she said.

  “And who said you could trust me?”

  No one. Maybe it was a result of spending too much time around animals, but Sarah didn’t put a lot of stock in people’s words. Actions were a much better indicator of character. Most people did not worry so much about someone they had met just a few hours earlier. They didn’t make them coffee and breakfast when they didn't have to. They didn't treat strangers as guests. The more she thought about it, the less convinced she was that Grant was the monster that he believed himself to be.

  “You’re not evil,” Sarah said.

  Grant shook his head. “You only say that because you haven’t seen what this thing is capable of. I have. I know because I watched what my father became. I was there when he...."

  Sarah waited but the he never finished what he was about to say, and, if the dark cloud that had taken root on his brow was any indication, he wasn't about to. Whatever it was, Sarah could believe it was terrible.

  "But that was your father," she said, reaching out and touching his sleeve.

  He didn't recoil, but his eyes fell where her hand touched him.

  "Why do you care?”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open. The answer was there, but she was going to have to push past a wall of fear to say it. But if he could do it, so could she.

  “Because I liked it.” Her voice was small, but she managed to get the words out.

  Grant’s head snapped up. His brows were heavy over his eyes. “What?”

  Sarah forced herself to meet his gaze. She could own this. She could. Her hands began to tremble. She balled them into fists so he couldn’t see.

  “I liked what happened between us last night,” she said. “I want it to happen again.”

  Grant shook his head, but his eyes stayed locked on hers. She saw emotions flash as fast as movie frames over his face. Disbelief. Relief. Hunger. Denial.

  “Under no circumstances,” he said. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Annoyance sparked inside her at his dismissal. “Yes, I do. I liked it, Grant. The way you talked to me—the command, the control—it woke something inside of me I never even knew was there.”

  “That wasn’t me. It’s a damned monster. You have no idea what it could have done to you if it had gotten loose.”

  Her stomach fluttered. She thought that she might like to have to opportunity to find out. The glower that hung heavy on Grant’s brow hinted that he wasn’t thinking along the same lines.

  “This is serious, Sarah.”

  He was getting aggravated, but he seemed more upset with himself than with her. He leaned forward on stiff arms. The line of his shoulders was tight, and every hard muscle flexed under his form-fitting T-shirt. But his temper held.

  “So you’ve said. But you talk about this thing as though it’s evil. I was there with it all night. I talked to it, touched it. And yes, it was dominating, but it wasn’t cruel.”

  “It was also chained to a wall.”

  Sarah pushed the stool back from the counter and stood, even though it meant that she was no longer eye level with him.

  “Are you always chained up when you change?” she asked, stepping around the island.

  He nodded, but didn’t turn toward her. His back was as straight and stiff as an iron bar. “Always.”

  “Then how do you have any idea what your capable of?”

  “Because I know what is inside me.” Grant swiveled around. Sarah stumbled back a step. “I know what thoughts went through my mind when I saw you step down out of your truck. Trust me, they weren’t any kind of chivalrous.”

  A blush heated her cheeks. Her tongue snaked out and wet her lips.

  Grant took a step forward. She took another step back. In this moment of frustration, it was easy to see the hints of the creature concealed within him.

  “I wanted you,” he said. The control was back in his voice. Sarah’s heart began to pound against her breastbone. She retreated until her back hit the kitchen wall. He propped one arm above her head and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. “And he took you.”

  “Nothing happened that I didn’t want.” Her voice trembled. Grant LaCroix was no less powerful in his regular state. His allure, it seemed, had nothing to do with the curse.

  “This time.”

  He bent his head down, and his lips brushed against hers. It was soft at first. Barely a touch. A shiver ran through her, raising goosebumps on her arms. His hand shifted to the back of her neck. His grip tightened, and he deepened the kiss.

  She closed her eyes as the tip of his tongue caressed her lips. She opened her mouth. All rational thoughts left her as he swept inside. She tried to lean forward and press her body against him, but he held her still. His mouth moved over hers, keeping a hypnotic rhythm, taking what he wanted from her.

  Sarah swallowed a cry when he wrenched his mouth away. He didn’t go far. His breath still fell warm and ragged across her cheek. She looked up into his passion-glazed eyes. Coffee and cream brown eyes. Her gaze caught on the glints of emerald green hiding inside his dark irises. This close she could just barely make them out. But they were there. They were always there.

  The creature was in him, just as he was always in the creature. They were one.

  “You’re a fool to want this,” he said.

  Maybe she was. But how many times in her life had she ever been foolish? She had always thought things through. She always went with the sane and rational choice. In school, in her career, in her personal life, she had let her head be her guide.

  But now something in deep within in her was demanding attention. It had nothing to do with logic or reason. It was far more primal than that. Her body responded to his call. It shouldn’t surprise her. She’d seen it over and over again in animals, the need to answer to their nature.

  That was how he ma
de her feel—like an animal keenly aware of the life flowing through her. She wanted to feel more.

  She slipped her hand underneath the soft cotton of his shirt and relished in the feel of his taut skin. She dipped her hand lower, her fingers teasing the waist of his jeans. He stiffened and drew in a sharp breath between clenched teeth.

  “Please,” she pleaded softly.

  His eyes narrowed, and his hold on her neck tightened. Sarah could see his conflict plainly in his face. If she was fool for wanting this, what was he for giving it to her?

  He leaned forward.

  A hard knock at the front door stopped him cold. He hissed in a harsh breath before straightening.

  “Be right back,” he said, before pushing away from her.

  His boots tapped out a steady tattoo against the hardwood floors. Sarah ran a hand down her hair as she tried to regain her composure. She pulled on her shirt and smoothed down her pants.

  “Good morning, Linda.” The low timbre of Grant’s voice rumbled down the long hallway as he greeted his visitor.

  “And good morning to you, Grant.” A familiar voice followed full of concern. “I was looking for Dr. McIntire. Your place was her last call. She hasn’t been answering her phone, and I noticed that her dad’s truck is still here.”

  Oh crap. Linda Reed.

  Sarah had known Linda for her whole life. She’d managed her father’s office since she was a little. She wasn’t exactly like a mother to her. More like a favorite aunt. The one who wore too much makeup and still knew how to raise a little hell.

  Sarah pushed away from the wall.

  “I’m here,” Sarah said, rushing down the hall. “I’m sorry, Linda. I guess I must have lost my phone.”

  Linda’s eyes widened a little as she caught sight of Sarah with her wet hair and crumpled clothes. There was no doubt where her mind went. She looked back in forth between Grant and Sarah.

  “I see,” Linda said, not bothering to hide her amused grin.

  Sarah made sure to stand a good foot away from Grant as she reached the doorway.

  “Did I miss any calls?” Sarah asked, mortified. She’d never disregarded her responsibilities before. Never.

  “No. Dr. Carter is at the office now, and it’s been a quiet morning. I was just worried about you, but it looks like you’re in good hands.”

  Grant shifted his weight back on his heels. Sarah stifled a groan. Subtlety was not Linda’s greatest talent.

  “I should probably go in and relieve Dr. Carter,” Sarah said, turning to Grant. “But I’d like to finish our conversation later, Mr. LaCroix.”

  Grant nodded curtly but didn’t say a word.

  Sarah thought she’d sounded nothing short of professional, but there was no fooling Linda. The woman’s gaze shot back and forth between them like she watching her favorite soap opera.

  Sarah nodded back and stepped through the door. She didn’t wait for Grant to close the door behind her before she started striding toward the Ford. Linda followed close behind. Sarah could tell she was dying to say something, but, thankfully, for once in her life, Linda chose tact.

  The sun was higher now and there were a few other trucks in the driveway. A few heads curious faces peeked out from the stables. What had she been thinking? This was a working ranch and it was time for the day to start.

  Sarah looked around but didn’t see Linda’s red Honda anywhere.

  “How did you get here?” she asked.

  “Dick drove me,” she said, pointing to her husband’s blue and tan GMC parked next to the stables.

  “Dick works here?”

  “Just a couple of days a week. It gets him out of the house and keeps him from driving me crazy.”

  Dick had been one of the best horsemen in Plumas County before he’d shattered his hip in a car accident a few years ago. Now he had so much difficulty getting around that he was more trouble than help when it came to being in a stable, but his pride was still as strong as ever.

  “So, you just knew that I’d be here to give you a ride back to the office,” Sarah said, opening the truck door.

  “I may have had that feeling.” Linda smiled slyly as she slid across the bench seat. “I don’t know of a woman in this town who would say no to spending the night at Grant LaCroix’s place if they got the chance. Heaven knows, almost all of them have tried, but so far as I know, you’re the first one to succeed.”

  Sarah turned the key in the ignition and gave a few pumps on the accelerator before she threw it into gear. She kept her eyes straight ahead as she pulled out into the dirt drive, but she could still fell Linda’s expectant gaze boring into her.

  “It’s not what you think,” Sarah said.

  “Oh, yeah? Because it sure looked like something from where I was standing.”

  Sarah fiddled with the knob on the radio, but Linda slapped her hand away and clicked it off. There was no way she was getting out of this without an explanation.

  “There were problems with the birth last night. I got stuck out there and spent the night. He let me use his shower this morning.” All of it was technically true. She’d jut left out the parts that Linda would never believe, and the parts she would be embarrassed to admit.

  “I saw the way you were looking at each other, like a pair of hungry bobcats.”

  “What am I supposed to say? Grant’s an attractive man.”

  “Yes. Grant is.”

  Sarah sighed. There was no stopping this now. She could only hope to stem the damage.

  “Listen, don’t go around telling every one about this. I’m sure it would upset my father.”

  “Are you kidding me,” Linda’s hearty laugh filled the cab. “You getting your hooks into the most eligible rancher in the county? Your father will be as pleased as puppy that’s gotten into the larder.”

  He should have never agreed to see her again. He should have said no. Absolutely not. Even a simple shake of his head would have sufficed.

  The thought tormented him all day. It was there as he looked into the amused expressions of the ranch hands that were not accustomed to seeing women leaving his house early in the morning. It was there later in the day as he drove into town for groceries. It grew stronger at as he caught the buzz of whispers as he walked down the aisles of the supermarket.

  Grant knew how it went. He’d lived in a town as small as Rutledge his whole life. Though they’d never admit it, these people lived for gossip, and Linda Reed had the biggest mouth around. It probably had only taken the story a couple of hours to spread through town. He’d expected nothing less. Their stares didn’t bother him.

  But they did keep bringing to mind the reason for all the attention. He couldn’t push away the memory of her. The feel of her skin, soft and warm under his palm. The taste of her lips. The fire it built in his blood.

  He fought against the tension that began to coil in his groin. The memories spiraled out of control inside him. The sight of her lips wrapped around his cock. The heat of her mouth. The hungry look in her eyes as she looked up at him from her knees. How was he expected to say no to her with those were thoughts buzzing in his head?

  Dear god, he had to get a handle on himself.

  It wasn’t as if he had gone months without a woman. He’d had plenty of hookups over the last couple of years. Usually he would drive out to Red Bluff or Chico during the middle of the moon’s cycle. He’d never had any trouble finding someone else whose itch was in need of scratching. Nothing that had lasted past a single night. Nothing that could come back to haunt him.

  He could have used a drink, but he would never risk it. The curse was always close on moon nights, barely contained beneath the surface. He took what precautions he could. He kept to a strict schedule and watched the clock like a hawk. There were no unplanned stops, no diversions, absolutely nothing that might let his guard slip.

  Sometimes it wasn’t enough. He could see through the creature’s eyes, feel through his skin. Colors were brighter, textures more intense. He
battled for control, but every so often his restraint would slip. Like it did this morning.

  He should have known better than to let her into his house. Hell, he did know better. He could feel the creature under his skin, all of his primal desire clawing its way to the surface as he listened to her shower. The image of her wet, naked body hung in his mind, taunting him. He’d curled his hands into the countertop, determined not give into the growing impulse to burst into his bathroom and have her right there against the tiled wall.

  Somehow he had been able to resist. But when she’d admitted her desires in the kitchen and insisted on touching him, the last of his resolve had shattered.

  He’d never been so happy in all his life to get an unexpected visit from Linda Reed. He couldn’t care less how much she gossiped about finding Dr. McIntire—Sarah—at his place. Tongues could wag until they cramped. He knew what had happened, and more importantly, what hadn’t happened between them. Sarah was still safe from him.

  For the moment.

  For always.

  He knew well enough what she’d meant when she’d talked about continuing their conversation later. She planned on coming back.

  Grant tightened his grip on the shopping cart and pretended not to notice the long stare old Mrs. Johansen gave him as he passed her in front of the butcher counter.

  Well, if Sarah showed up tonight—and he felt it right down to the depths of his soul that she would—he would just force her turn her father’s old truck around. He’d do it at the end of his shotgun if need be.

  That was that.

  So why the hell did he find himself reaching for a pack of two steaks when all he needed was one.

  Sarah expected trouble as she pulled into the circular driveway in front of the old Andersen place that evening.

  No, not the Anderson place. She didn’t care what that sign down by the highway said. It was Grant’s ranch now.

  She hit the brakes, popped the long gearshift free and set the emergency brake. She straightened her back as she waited for the dust cloud to crest over the car and dissipate. She could just make out the Grant’s tall form standing on the porch.