Trevor stormed toward them, gave Chester the evil eye, then continued on past.


Chester raised his brows, his gaze following the deputy out of the tavern. He squeezed Lelandi’s hand.“Get me a beer, will you? I have a feeling I’ll be tossed out of here shortly for being an outsider talking to you. Although I imagine any of the guys in this place who attempt to speak with you would torque him off.”


Trusting her wolf instincts, she felt Chester McKinley might be able to solve the mystery of the killings. What was wrong with Darien to brush his offer of help aside?


As soon as she saw Darien, she would try to convince him to capitulate.


Her spirits lifted as she imagined that they might discover the murderer sooner with Chester looking into it. She returned to the bar and got him a beer. Before she could take it to his table, Silva seized it.


“Don’t need any more ‘incident’s.’ As soon as Trevor tells Darien that Chester McKinley was molesting you, there’ll be hell to pay.” Silva gave Lelandi a broad smile.


“You sure know how to do it, sugar. I haven’t managed to do anything with Sam to make Trevor jealous.”


“Maybe your heart isn’t in it?”


“No… no. Sam was totally agreeable. Said he’d do anything for a good cause, and I do want to give it a try. But…”


“You don’t want to make Trevor jealous. You’re afraid it may backfire.”


“I guess you’re right. Trevor’s got a hot temper. I guess I’m afraid he might take it out on Sam.”


“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Lelandi brought out some more glasses. She figured Trevor wouldn’t react because he wouldn’t care what Silva did, truth be told.


Silva took the beer to Chester’s table and handed it to him. He smiled and thanked her. Returning to the bar, Silva grabbed another tray of drinks. “Chester seems a likable sort. Hope Darien’s not too hard on him.”


“He wasn’t molesting me, by the way.”


“As an outsider, he was getting way too friendly.”


Silva took off with the tray of drinks.


“Another refill?” Carol asked Lelandi, lifting her empty wine glass. Her eyes glassy, she appeared as though she’d had enough, a drink or two ago.


Lelandi handed her a bottle of ice water. “Your head will thank me in the morning.” She hoisted another tray of drinks and headed for a table of humans when Ritka shoved Angelina’s shoulder.


That was all the cue Angelina needed, and she rose from her seat and rushed to get in Lelandi’s face this time.


“Getting all the guys hot and bothered now, eh? Not enough that you’ve got Darien panting for you? Even some damned outsider can’t keep his hands off you.


You’re just like your sister.”


If she hadn’t been holding a tray, Lelandi would have slapped the bitch in the face, but the place got awfully quiet. Instantly, Lelandi saw the reason. Darien, flanked by his two brothers, was on the warpath. God, he was gorgeous. Dressed in a coat with long tails and a gold paisley brocade vest, he outshone everyone else in the tavern. But his brown eyes turned even darker when he saw her, his measuring gaze taking in every inch of her bodice—way too exposed.


Now, if nothing else would, the cut of her gown would force him to return her promptly to his secure lair. Fine. She’d search his house for clues concerning her sister’s murder while everyone was enjoying the fair. And locate her gun. She wanted to read her sister’s letter to him also. If she’d thought of it earlier, she could have stayed home and done so already.


Jake targeted Chester, who was promptly asked to leave. Darien motioned to Ritka and the other woman and mouthed the word, “Out.”


Tom yanked Angelina out the door before she could utter a word. Darien took the tray of drinks from Lelandi, delivered them to the wrong table, then led her behind the bar.


Carol rested her chin on her hands. “How romantic. Why can’t I find a hero like you to rescue me? All I need is a job as a nurse at the hospital.” She waved her arm toward the door and nearly fell off the barstool. “Maybe I could replace that nurse who rammed a chair into Lelandi when she was trying to serve drinks.”


His brow furrowed, Darien looked from Carol to Lelandi. “Did she hurt you?”


“Ritka? No.”


He didn’t look like he believed her. “What did Chester McKinley say to you?”


“He wants to aid in the investigation. I said he could.”


Darien’s dark expression lightened, and he even managed a small smile. “What did he say to that?”


“I’d have to talk you into agreeing.”


“Damn right. And it isn’t happening. From now until you want to return home, you’re staying behind the bar.


Got it?”


She frowned back at him and lowered her voice when she spoke so Carol wouldn’t hear. “If he can help us locate Larissa’s killer, then we should hire him. I know pack leaders don’t like interference from lupus garous from other packs, but if he can aid us…” She gave Darien a look like she meant for him to agree or else.


He rubbed his hand over her bare arm, as though he was contemplating something. Taking her home? She thought so. But then his expression turned devious, his eyes darkening even more, a slight smile curving his lips. He took hold of her arm and led her into the room off the bar and closed the door. “Silva has the devil in her when she dresses you to entice me, but she doesn’t need to make the effort.”


“What do you think you’re going to do?”


“This.” He kissed Lelandi’s lips, hungry, demanding, his hands on her bare shoulders, caressing, and just as needy. He broke the kiss, his breathing and hers labored. “I haven’t told my people officially yet that you’re mine.” He growled under his breath. “Until I have done so, more than half those yahoos out there think you’re still available.”


Although she craved having him, she gave him her meanest glower, wanting the situation with Chester resolved. “I doubt it, Darien. But I still want Chester on the case.”


He growled again and tackled her mouth. “You’re too damned enticing for your own good.” He rubbed his fingers over the satin fabric covering her breasts, let out his breath in exasperation, then reached lower to lift her skirt.


“What are you doing?” she squealed, holding her gown down, startled, but loving how much he wanted her, his wolfish possessiveness, his urgent craving. “I want Chester on the case.”


For a minute, he stared at her, his expression stormy. “Lelandi, this is something I have to do as a leader, and I don’t want investigators from outside our pack. As for you…” He took a ragged breath. “You are mine. I will remind you of this. I don’t want any lupus hitting on you.” He looked down at the cage around her legs. “I have never done this before when a woman was wearing this metal contraption. How do I remove it?”


She seized his hands. “We have to discuss Chester.”


As focused as he was on wanting to ravish her, she realized after his hearing rumors that other lupus were “hitting” on her, he was giving into his more primitive wolf instincts. Compelled to show her he was hers and she was his, that no one else had any right to her, he seemed determined to satisfy this basic need.


She sighed. “We talk about Chester when we get home, or else.”


He gave a sharp nod, although his eyes were so smoky with desire, she wasn’t sure he was listening. But she meant what she said. Either they talked when they got home, or she took the case into her own hands.


He yanked off the lightweight steel crinoline, tossed it aside, then slipped her bodice down, exposing her breasts. Her body heating with the compulsion to mate, the frustration over his leader stubbornness melted. She cherished the sensation of his hands on her breasts, the way he massaged and lifted, bent his head over one and kissed the nipple, making it pucker and tingle. She slipped her fingers through his hair, felt a tinge of icy dampness. Snow.


He slid his hand down her waist and pulled the long skirt up again. He had a one-track mind. But her fingertips chased away the frown across his temple, and she kissed his mouth, stopping him momentarily.


A shudder shook him and he quickly pressed his hand between her legs, finding the opening in her crotchless drawers and gave her a lusty smile. “Hmm, Lelandi, you’re hot and wet for me.”


Always, whenever he observed her with that lascivious look in his eyes. He slipped his arms under her and laid her down on the wooden floor. “Just think, September 19th is Talk Like a Pirate Day. You’ll be my sea wench and I’ll plunder your treasures.”


She slid her hand down to his trousers and rubbed the bulge already hard and readied for her. “I’ll be the Pirate Captain, sir, not the treasure.”


He laughed.


“You laugh, but I’m serious. I could be the Viking pirate Princess Sela or Princess Rusla.”


His eyes sparkling, he kissed her again. “You’ve already stolen my heart, princess. Now I’ll steal yours.”


Lelandi tugged at his trousers. “Fine. Hurry, Darien.”


His fingers parted her feminine core as his tongue touched hers. “Heaven on earth, love. That’s what you are.”


“It’s not fair that my breasts are bare and my skirts are tugged up to my waist so you can have your fill of me while you’re dressed to the teeth.”


“Complaints, complaints, woman.” He moved her hand from his waist to the crotch of his pants. “Release me and end my pain.”


She unbuttoned his pants and reached inside and touched his rock-hard erection.


“It’s all yours, madam.”


“Then send me to the moon, sir. Make me climb the peak.” She stroked his member, long, hard, faster, soliciting a groan from deep within his throat, his eyes glazed over with lust.


“Enough, you vixen.”


He centered himself between her legs, then entered her, easing in at first, then thrusting hard.