All in the Chemistry [The Royal Wolves 4] (Siren Publishing Allure) (3 page)

She shrugged and waved at Max, her good-bye to him because she had to get out of there. She was losing her mind and she damn well knew it. “Your loss.” She winked at Kris simply because as Missy she wasn’t held to the same pattern of woman, she could be wild and free and not have to worry about her career while she danced and laughed with people. She was there for interaction with others, not a relationship. She was too uncertain about everything to be in one of those, that and the fact that if they met Missy and then Courtney she knew which one would be chosen every time, and Courtney couldn’t survive that.

She moved away from Kristof, her small purse still dangling at her hip, and began to dance her way into the center of the crowd. The music was taking her away, allowing her freedom even when she wanted to demand answers about what Kris meant. No, she danced. She danced until she was into the second song and that was when she made her move toward the door.

Watching her dance had him rethinking everything about well, everything. Finishing his bottle he set it aside even as he shifted to keep his eyes on her. “She’s about to bolt for the night,” Max predicted at his back. Kris nodded since he’d gotten the same sense from her. Hearing the other man as he moved down the bar, Kris let out a soft sigh, he’d said something to make her head for the hills. Oh well, if this was her hunting grounds for whatever gave her her thrills he’d just have to come around from time to time to see her. Shrugging he turned to face the bar and signalled Max for another beer. He’d have one more, head home for a couple hours of sleep, and then he’d go back to what he was good at.

She moved off for the doors and when the cold air once more kissed her face she turned her face into the breeze and breathed in and out before taking off for the small studio apartment that she kept for herself.

She didn’t catch a cab, not when she needed to walk. She needed to walk and clear her thoughts, her mind was rolling and she wondered just what he knew about her and the shit that had been happening lately at Aegis to her. It had been more than a little frustrating to find out that her clinicals had been pushed forward for trials before she was out of animal testing.

Courtney made it home and as was her routine pulled out a glass of iced milk and stripped in the light that was cast from the small overhead above the sink. Clothes folded neatly she stepped to the hamper and placed them inside before grabbing her milk and stalking across the wood floors to the open living area. In the center of a white drop cloth rested an easel with a canvas on it, a small table at the side held paints and now her milk.

Picking up a brush and squeezing some paint on a piece of cardboard, she once more began to do the one thing that made her relax, painting.

It was hours later when she finally pulled back and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, breathing in and out she eyed the newest addition to the canvas and shook her head. “And of course he would make it into my paintings.” Because Kristof was beautiful. She wanted to know more about him, but then again she wanted to kick him, too, so it was better she have him only in image and nothing else. Starting at the painting she groaned, she’d created a dreamlike feel to the entire piece.

He looked just like he had after kissing her fingers, a faint smile crooked on his lips, his eyes heavy lidded and his head tipped just slightly to the side. His dirty blond hair falling over his forehead just enough to make her fingers twitch to brush the locks back. His hazel eyes, more green than brown in her opinion, locked on her in a way that said he could see everything going on in her head. There was no defined background, just hazy possibilities with what some likely would assume would be gauzy drapes. In reality, she had no clue what the background was, but it didn’t really matter when Kristof was front and center.

Cleaning up her brushes, she forced herself to not look at the painting again. It wouldn’t do to want for something she’d never have. When she finally got to her bed, she simply fell back onto the comforter and was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

* * * *

Stretching his aching muscles as he stopped the treadmill, Kris wandered up from the basement to his bedroom on the main floor of the roomy and spacious house. Stripping, he climbed into the hot shower and sighed with a sense of pleasure as the heat and pounding spray worked at the remaining aches of his back and neck. He wasn’t sure how long he was in there, but he was pretty sure he’d dozed off, or the fact his head smacked the wall was evidence of that.

Turning off the water, he dried off as he padded into the bedroom. Setting his alarm for just after seven, before sliding into the massive, specially ordered king-size bed. Settling on his stomach he left the blankets off since it was nice and warm in the room. Tucking a pillow under his head, he let out a wide yawn and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Waking in the dream he turned around and found himself in a large room with a spotlight on him and another pointed to one side. Shading his eyes he frowned as he noticed that the floor was high-gloss wood. Turning around he also realized he was in a tux with some serious tails and, what the hell? A mask! Then the music started and, while he appreciated the throaty and soul-reaching beat of the tango, he seriously had to wonder just what he’d eaten to have brought this on.

She moved up to him, her dress was a long red dress with a trailing train. The sleeveless and low back, which criss-crossed up and tied like a corset, allowed freedom, but also for much of her “assets” to be displayed. Blonde hair with red highlights was piled high atop her head and only trails of curls cascaded down along the sides, the red facial mask was in place as her red gloved hand touched his back lightly, a lover’s touch, one of want and need.

Turning, he inhaled and found an unusual scent, not quite one but more a combination. Frowning he looked to her and forgot all about her scent as he took her hand in his. Pressing his other hand to the curve of her waist he pulled her close to him. Moving with the music he worked the floor, guiding her through the intricate steps as he tried to figure out just who she was. Well, he knew who she was, but he didn’t know who the woman was that was his mate.

Her body pressed close to him as she closed her eyes. Even with it being just a dream she couldn’t look up at him. The brilliant green a dead giveaway to who she truly was in reality and one she couldn’t let be seen even if it was all just a dream, her dream. No, some things she couldn’t break habit on, even for a fantasy. She didn’t speak, she let her body moving with the music do her talking, the curve of her breasts gleaming with glitter that had been dusted lightly there.

The beat of the song had him moving her around the room, their bodies pressing together and then sliding apart. Spinning her he bent her backward slightly before whipping her up so they were face-to-face. For some reason though she wouldn’t look at him, that bothered him. He needed a clue to who she was, why wouldn’t she look at him? Sliding his hand up her side, he brushed the side of her breast before spinning her out and moving around her in slow steps as he looked her up and down.

She refused to look at him, her leg kicked up and wrapped around his leg as they turned in a circle, bodies close to each other so much so that she could feel his breath. She knew now who she danced with, it was Kristof Farkas, why not? He had been on her mind for weeks, seeing him tonight at the Edge and then adding him to her painting, it was only natural she dance with him.

Her hand stroked down his arm, the cool silky fabric of his tux crisp and cool under her fingers and making her bite her lips in appreciation.

Catching her leg he held her to him as he moved slightly before letting her go. Catching her hips he pulled her tight against him and moved side to side before he caught at her hand and moved her across the floor in the closing movements of the dance. Dipping her back he pressed a kiss over her heart enjoying the press of her soft curves to his cheek before he slowly let her upright again. Seconds later the music changed to a slow and romantic waltz, smiling as he took her in his arms again, he looked at her. “What’s your name?” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and intimate, perfectly suiting the moment.

Her eyes closed as she shook her head but she nuzzled against him and the feel of his stubbly cheeks against hers made her heart pound in need. The dancers surrounding them were a blur, only he was in sharp focus. She couldn’t speak, her voice would give her away so she danced with him, allowing her body to touch and caress against his as much as possible. It was the most amazing dream she was having, to be held in his arms, dancing close and tightly as she was. She knew it was a dream, it would forever be a dream because one, he didn’t dance, two, he didn’t like her in the least and three, no one was ever attracted to her. Even as Missy, men weren’t attracted to her, sure she had them wanting to fuck and leave her but not the kind of attraction she was desperate for, the kind that would allow her to find a real and true love.

Frustrated by her silence Kristof kept them moving in the slow dance of the waltz around the floor, keeping her as tight against him as he could. He was trying to imprint her body to his, to remember her from the dreams and take the memory into real life. He’d find her, somehow he’d find her there. Dropping little kisses along her throat and over her cheeks, he teased the edge of her mask as he moved over her face. His eyes were closed, knowing full well that while they were in control of the dream they didn’t need to worry about running into anything or anyone. Finding her mouth he used his tongue along the seam, asking, begging for entrance. When she finally allowed him in, he took full advantage and stormed the gates so to speak. Moaning against her lips, the sound travelling from him to her, he teased and tasted her, desperate for something tangible to hold to.

She kissed him in sweet abandon, even in her dreams he was something else, something incredible and more than real life. Her hands moved to caress his hair, digging deep and holding onto him with all she had inside of her. The moan escaped her lips and poured into him, the sound of honey her voice was rich and deep with urgent need.

Growling softly at her rich taste, he drank her down as he pulled her even closer, his fingers biting into her waist for a moment before he slid a hand down to cup her ass, pressing her against him.

When she pulled back from him, she turned her head to the side, allowing him to touch and kiss her neck. With her head turned to the side, she opened her eyes and gazed around her and saw her paintings. The one she had just finished of him was on the dance floor, a spot light on it even as velvet ropes surrounded it. She had yet to sign it, but there it was.

Closing her eyes again she shook her head and in the smallest of whispers said, “Please don’t see it.” Her dream Kristof couldn’t see that she was painting him, she would be devastated to hear his ridicule.

Lifting his head at her voice, so soft and throaty, he frowned. “See what, little one?” he asked even as he turned his head to look where she was. Stunned at the painting he straightened, pulling her with him before walking to it slowly. Reaching out he stopped himself with his fingers hovering just over the painted representation of his face and blinked. “How?” he asked softly looking at her and was shocked to see the paleness of her face blanch even more. “It’s lovely, little one, but how?” he asked with confusion, it couldn’t be something she just conjured up, there was too much emotion coming from it and from her surrounding it.

Her face turned down, she couldn’t let him see her but she whispered softly, even over the music her voice carried. “Because I know you.” She stepped back from him, she had to wake up, this dream was becoming more than she could deal with. Her subconscious was forcing her to accept her attraction to Kristof and she wasn’t sure that she was really ready for it. “I have to wake up now, Kristof,” she whispered softly and raised a hand even as she heard her alarm blaring. For just a moment before she shimmered out of view, she turned her face up to look at him, the intense green eyes drinking him in for a moment before she woke.

Reaching for her as she began to turn to mist, Kristof cursed as his hand went through her. “Damn it,” he whispered as he just stared at the bright green of her eyes. Turning he looked around and found nothing but a fading light.

Rolling over she slapped her hand to the alarm. “Gods what a vivid dream.” She could still smell him against her skin, it was more than a little strange, to say the least. “I seriously need to see a shrink, who could have thought I would be attracted to him, a man that has never met me and hates my guts?” she was mumbling as she tripped her way to the shower.

Waking Kristof cursed a vivid and descriptive blue streak as he pushed his hands through his hair. Rolling over he sat up and stared blankly at the wall. “Who the hell are you?” he whispered to the silence of his home. Getting up he headed for the shower, he had to do something, anything to get his mind off of her, so he’d go to work.

She stood in her shower, the spray pelting down on her roughly and her eyes closed with head bent. “How can I smell like him?” she whispered once more, unable to believe that she had come out of her dream smelling like him, how was it possible? Grabbing the soap she got the cloth nice and sudsy before starting to move it over her body, scrubbing at the skin so that she could possibly lose the scent of him, the smell that even made her nipples pucker in the light of day.

Climbing into his shower Kris started it and breathed in sharply when a hint of her scent tickled his nose. It was that strange dual scent, a powerful one overlaying a secondary, softer scent. He’d swear that the top note was false, a camouflage hiding all of her. Pressing his hands to the shower as the steam began to rise, he slowly inhaled, his eyes drifting shut as he tried to sort through the scents pouring from his flesh.