Chapter 5

Now my room had a fucking problem.

Every time I looked at the bed, I could still hear Roman’s ragged breathing, and the low groans he hadn’t been able to hold back. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt his mouth on mine, his tongue tangling with mine until I was soaking wet.

Around three, a helicopter thudded low over the roof and dropped somewhere beyond the east wing. It was sleek and black, smaller than the one that had brought me here. I watched it from the window for about two seconds before my thoughts drifted right back to Roman’s finger circling my nipple.

Fresh air, I told myself sternly. You need fresh air, Cathy, and you need to stop picturing every inch of a man you’ve slept with exactly once!

So I grabbed a soft cashmere wrap in case the girls sprang a leak, bundled Henry into his blanket, and went looking for the gardens behind the manor.

Last night, the dark had hidden how beautiful they were. In daylight, they were even more gorgeous. Pink roses spilled over the old stone walls, and a very fat bee was working through the lavender like it had a deadline.

Henry lasted until we reached the rose arbor at the far end of the garden. Then he started rooting at my shirt.

“Already?” I looked down at him. “You ate two hours ago.”

He answered by scrunching up his whole face and letting out a wail that sent the fat bee fleeing.

I glanced around. The garden was dead quiet.

So I sat down on a stone bench under the arbor and unbuttoned my shirt. Two weeks ago, I would have died before doing this outdoors. But these days my breasts ran on Henry’s schedule, and Henry’s schedule said lunch was now.

He latched on with a greedy little grunt, and the ache in my chest eased at once.

The sun was warm, and the fountain splashed somewhere behind the hedges. Before I knew it, I was humming. It was an old tune, one I’d made up at sixteen and hadn’t sung in years.

“Roman didn’t tell me he’d hired a siren.”

“Holy shit!” I jerked upright.

A man was leaning against the arbor post six feet away, watching me like he’d been there for a while. And thanks to my little jolt, my shirt had fallen wide open on both sides.

Both my breasts were bare to the open air. One was dripping milk.

I yanked the wrap off my shoulders and threw it over my chest. Then I slid a pinky into the corner of Henry’s mouth to break his latch, so I could get up and leave with some dignity.

Henry clearly had other plans.

He clamped down so hard I sucked in a breath. Then he went right back to work, louder than before, like someone had threatened to confiscate his lunch.

Every greedy gulp carried through the quiet garden, along with wet little smacks and the occasional contented grunt.

Worse, with Henry pulling hard on one side, the other side let down too. I felt the warm rush before I could stop it, and a dark, wet spot spread through the pale cashmere.

I clamped my arm over it. That only made the wrap slide off my shoulder. Henry, sensing an opportunity, flung out one little hand and dragged the edge down with him.

My face was on fire. I could feel the heat spreading down my neck and across my chest, and I was sure this uninvited jerk could see that too.

The man pushed off the post and strolled toward me, taking his sweet time. With Henry latched on like a barnacle, running was off the table.

Up close, he was even worse.

The first thing I noticed was his eyes. They were the same Griffin blue as Roman’s, only several shades lighter.

Then I took in the rest of him.

While Roman dressed like old money, this guy dressed like he was about to walk a runway in Milan. He wore a white designer silk shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his tanned chest. A diamond chain rested against his skin, probably worth ten times the apartment I was trying to buy back.

A smudge of red lipstick marked his collar. He clearly didn’t care who saw it.

Another wolf, I thought. A big one. Maybe stronger than Roman, maybe slightly weaker. I honestly can’t tell.

“Look at that. The Griffins found themselves another victim.” His gaze traveled down to my bare shoulder and back up to my face. “And I have to say, you’re hotter than the previous one.”

The previous one? He had to mean Henry’s mother. This man had the manners of a frat boy.

I let out a cold laugh. “Wow. Do you always open by rating dead women?”

For half a second, his grin slipped. Then it came back, wider than before.

“Oh, she has teeth.” He sounded delighted. Then, to my surprise, he dipped his head. “That was a cheap shot. I apologize.”

“I just hate it when one of us drags someone fragile into our world.” On the word fragile, he reached out and lifted a strand of hair the breeze had pulled loose from my ponytail. “Those stories always end the same way. Take that as a warning, sweetheart.”

His face was unreadable. He looked like he might kiss my forehead, or snap my neck, and either one seemed equally likely.

I turned my head away. “I’m not a victim. I walked in here on my own two feet,” I said. “For the paycheck. I’m Henry’s wet... I mean, his nanny. Think of it that way.”

I was still kicking myself for stammering like a teenager when his grin widened. “Fair enough.”

Right then, Henry let out a long, loud slurp under the wrap. The man glanced at the wriggling lump against my chest. “You’ve got the Griffin appetite, Henry.”

That did it. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Kellan.” His eyes finally came back up to mine. “Roman’s uncle.”

I stared at him, suspicious. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than Roman.

“Let me guess.” He tilted his head. “He sat you down in that gloomy study, poured you tea, and told you the wolves want peace and you’re free to leave anytime.”

I kept my mouth shut. He grinned like I’d confirmed it anyway.

“He’s been giving that speech since he was twelve. He used to practice it on the garden cats.” He sighed. “Three hundred years of Griffins, and somehow my nephew came out of the womb wearing a tie.”

Henry decided he’d had enough of this man. He popped off my breast and let out a scream so loud and furious that a flock of sparrows burst out of the hedge behind us.

Footsteps crunched fast on the gravel.

“Kellan?”

Roman came around the hedge at a fast stride, dust on his boots and his sleeves shoved to the elbows, like he’d come straight from wherever he’d been. His eyes went to Henry first, then to the very small space between his uncle and me.

Kellan turned around, unhurried, with a smile like he was greeting an old friend at a party. “Nephew. There you are. I was just chatting with the next human whose life you’re going to wreck.”

Roman ignored him. He crossed the last few steps and stopped at my side, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. He rested a hand on my arm, and his eyes met mine with a look that said I’ve got you.

Then he held out his arms for Henry, and the second I handed him over, the screaming dropped to an indignant hiccup.

Then Roman looked at Kellan, and his voice was very level.

“Cathy is off-limits, Kellan. Play your games somewhere else.”