There was no escaping the truth. Not when we were stuck in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere. As soon as I made contact with Valeria, he’d know anyway.

  “My daughter,” I answered. “Valeria Blackthorn is my daughter.”

  CHAPTER 4

  WILDER

  You could have knocked me down with a feather and proceeded to bash me around with it for a little while.

  His daughter?

  How the fuck didn’t I know that?

  Come to think of it, how was nobody aware of this information? And if they were, his circle was more tight-lipped than a monk at a mime convention. Impressive. It also said a lot about those in his confidence.

  Awareness pulsed inside me. Was I now in his confidence?

  My skin itched. I wasn’t sure how to process that possibility.

  “Shit, right….” I bobbed my head once before catching up with not only everything he’d said but his whole tone. “And you don’t want her involved, or you don’t want her here?”

  For the second time since we’d met, vulnerability etched across his features. Lucas sagged in his chair, appearing more human than I’d ever expected him to look. Uncertainty made my skin itch even more when I noticed the discomfort seeping into his gaze.

  Making eye contact, he shook his head, saying, “I haven’t seen her for eight years, not for lack of trying.”

  I held back my surprise. Lucas seemed like the kind of man to hold close to family, to those he cared about and loved.

  “She’s still working for the government in a capacity that I’m not a hundred percent sure about. Even if I was, I wouldn’t be able to discuss it.”

  “Is that why you haven’t seen her?” I prompted, curiosity to discover more about Lucas urging me on. Was he pissed at her, or was she pissed at him?

  “Partially. I’m not sure where she’s been based or what her role has been. But the last time we saw each other, I wasn’t her favourite person.”

  I frowned. I couldn’t imagine Lucas being the kind of man to take issue with his daughter’s identity.

  “And whatever you’re thinking,” he started, a frown appearing, “that’s not it. I love my daughter, fiercely and completely. She’s incredible and fantastic at her job and always has been.”

  While it was a relief to know Lucas wasn’t a prick, I was still nosey as hell. “So, what did you do to piss her off?”

  A humourless huff escaped him. “What didn’t I do?”

  I winced, a sympathetic smile forming. “That bad, huh?”

  “Only if you think interfering with an investigation and blowing your daughter’s cover after discovering an imminent threat to her and then going above her head to get her pulled is a bad thing.”

  “Ouch.” I scrunched my face. “You went above her head? Yeah, that’ll do it.”

  A shadow of guilt passed over his face. Interesting.

  “And what else?” No way was that the only thing. From his reaction alone, it was obvious there was more to the tale. Add in the “retirement” story, and I suspected I was right.

  “Just some shit I wish I could take back and had been honest about.” He shook his head and sat upright, turning his focus away from me and back to the screen.

  Disappointment weighed on my chest that he’d held back. Foolish of me for sure. We didn’t owe each other anything.

  “Okay, let’s work on this list.”

  Lucas effectively shut down the discussion with his instruction, and with no choice but to let it go, we worked side by side, at times relying on more ingenious ways to reach out to the contacts, especially those not contactable by more official channels.

  Not that anything we were doing was exactly “official” considering I wasn’t “officially” in the country and Lucas had a warrant out for questioning.

  We needed to stay under the radar.

  Based on what we’d discovered and Durrant’s plan, if word got out about the takedown we had planned, it would destroy any chance at shutting down Murdock’s corruption and work with Hornell. Hornell would be deeper in the wind before we got a breath away. The involvement of Jefferson, the other government official, still wasn’t clear. But considering what we’d learnt about Murdock, we were treating him as a key player in the conspiracy taking place.

  We’d since heard from Durrant, letting us know Jefferson had been taken into custody. Once again unofficially and to a covert ops site.

  By the time we’d reached the bottom of Durrant’s list, with me taking on the job to contact Agent Lucas’s daughter, grit scratched my eyes and my stomach rumbled.

  “That’s our cue to break.”

  I threw a surprised glance at Lucas, struggling to get a grip on this strange amity we now had. It was an unspoken truce of sorts. “I could eat,” I offered. The tension around his eyes held me back from lapsing into my usual sarcastic comeback. “Do you need food or a vial?”

  A moment’s hesitation preceded his “Both.”

  I bobbed my head, wondering what the final straw was that had pushed us to be civilised. I wasn’t sure how I felt, but I could admit that Lucas pressed my buttons. Perhaps that he wasn’t quite the rule follower I’d thought he was had something to do with it. That and he’d screwed up with the whole blood thing but hadn’t backtracked or shifted blame.

  I stood. “I’ll head up and make something.” The man needed to eat and keep up his energy. Six hours had passed since our talk with Durrant.

  “You don’t nee⁠—”

  “What I need is for you to finish up here and be upstairs in twenty-five.” I stared him down, expecting defiance. What I discovered made my heart trip over itself. Intensity filled his gaze while his shoulders loosened so minutely that I would have likely missed it if I hadn’t been aware of his every move since we’d been locked away in this cabin together.

  “After that, we need to take a ride.” The offer was out there before I’d truly formed the thought or the idea, but fuck if the memory of his loud, carefree laugh when on the back of the motorbike didn’t keep revisiting me. He needed that again. Needed a break. Hell, so did I, especially because, by this time tomorrow, shit would have hit the fan and there would be no resting at all.

  And since I’d told him his daughter would be at the rendezvous point in twelve hours, he needed a change of scenery even more.

  With my chin jutted in challenge, I waited a beat for him to argue. When he didn’t, I nodded and turned, working hard to contain the squirm of satisfaction wriggling in my gut. I liked that he was letting me do this for him a little too much.

  Closing the hatch behind me, I stepped into the kitchen area. Confident the basement was sealed and soundproof, I released a loud “Fuck!” I swiped a hand over my face.

  The hell was I playing at?

  Fire. It was the only answer.

  Less than a handful of days of knowing the uptight vampire and I was spiralling. I clasped the kitchen countertop and dropped my head with a snort.

  Nothing about the increasing urge to care for Lucas made sense. Sure, the desire to fuck him had been there from the moment I set eyes on him. He was sexy as hell. But looking after him… a man who, on the surface, seemed to have his shit together…? That there was the quandary.

  The leader, the man in charge of the ITU, was not completely who he said he was.

  Did he lie even to himself?

  I glanced at the sealed hatch in the floor, visualising the vampire focussed intently on his computer screen. Lucas definitely held a part of himself back. I wondered if that was from everyone, if he trusted anyone enough to show them all the parts of himself.

  Who are you really, Mathew Lucas?

  The question was dangerous, especially as the desire to unravel him and discover his truth was a force I couldn’t ignore.

  “Fuck it all to hell.” I rolled my eyes and set about making some food.

  Fate had a wicked sense of humour. I swore she was laughing her arse off at me… at the promises I’d made myself over the years.

  Criminal, vigilante, and a whole bunch of other descriptors assigned to me should have had me jumping on the first flight out of here days ago. Me joining forces with any government agent didn’t make a lick of sense. Hell, it went against the grain, the very fibre of my being.

  I tugged open the fridge door, eyeing the thawed steak I’d pulled out of the stocked underground freezer a few hours ago. There was something to be said about the intense heat in Australia. That would do nicely, and I suspected Lucas liked his rare too.

  I set about seasoning the steak and tried to contain my thoughts on the mission and what we needed to do before Durrant’s contacts gathered. They’d be in four different locations, and it would take some precision to navigate—not just because of the scope of the task, but because there were a lot of players in the mix.

  When working in the cyber unit back home years ago, dealing with in-house politics had been enough to drive me to distraction. It was working with external agencies, though, that always gave me a headache and pulled my temper to the surface.

  My patience for dealing with bullshit had been fried long ago, so just the thought of juggling egos brought a growl to the surface. The sizzle of the steak in the frying pan rose and drowned out my growl.

  Lucas could handle it, though. I nudged the cooking steak. While I’d only witnessed his efficiency and diplomacy on a small scale, I had little doubt he could handle any number of supes and agents that needed wrangling.

  A soft whoosh alerted me to the hatch opening.

  After flipping the steak, I angled a look over my shoulder. Lucas emerged, his handsome face and bright eyes hiding the tiredness I knew he tried to conceal. It didn’t matter that vampires didn’t require a great amount of sleep. The pressure of the mission combined with his thirty-six hours of shit decision-making had hit him hard.

  Despite the exhaustion ebbing off him, he remained distractingly sexy.

  “You want salad?” I asked, my voice gruff. It always was when I raked my gaze over Lucas for longer than I should.

  His gaze drifted to the frying pan, softening a moment before returning to meet mine. “I can put together one for you.”

  My lips hitched up. “Not much nutrition in salad for you, huh?”

  He stepped closer, his shoulders relaxed. “Not enough to make me eat it. A carrot’s great for my fangs, though.”

  My brows shot high, and a huff of laughter spilled from me. His mouth twitched, amusement outshining the slight shadows present on his face a moment ago.

  “The man’s got jokes. Fuck me and stop the press.”

  He flipped me off as he walked towards the fridge, and I turned back to the frying pan, hiding the huge grin refusing to leave me. It wasn’t like he was even that funny, but slowly breaking down the strait-laced exterior he’d drowned in starch was impacting my defences.

  “Are you a heathen who likes cucumber?”

  “It all depends if that’s a euphemism or not,” I shot back. It was too late to clamp my mouth shut.

  “Seriously…?” He dragged the word out. I side-eyed him, barely keeping my amusement in check when he shook his head, saying, “For a grumpy arsehole, you flirt like you’re getting paid by the hour.”

  “Hey, don’t underestimate the power of being ridiculously good at it,” I retorted, raising an eyebrow. “It’s an art form. Picasso had his blue period; I have my flirtation period.”

  He snorted, his scowl cracking just a bit. “Period? Is that what you were doing with Hart?” His brows shot high as soon as he asked.

  I was right there with him, surprised as hell he’d mentioned a brief exchange from over a week ago.

  A slow smile slid onto my lips as I switched off the burner and angled fully to face him. He stood there as if someone had hit Pause on the remote of life, his expression resembling that of a squirrel who just realised it forgot where it buried its nuts.

  “Hart and I go way back,” I started, feeling the urge to make my position clear. “It’s called keeping people on their toes, Lucas. I thrive on unpredictability.”

  “Or you just enjoy the attention,” he grumbled, breaking eye contact. A little too diligently, he worked on putting the salad together.

  No way was I not answering. A little push and I was sure I’d be able to see another blush. “Who doesn’t? Besides, your idea of flirting is what, asking if someone likes spreadsheets?”

  Lame.

  Admittedly it wasn’t my best comeback, but his huff of laughter was a win.

  “Hey, spreadsheets can be sexy.”

  Heat gathered low in my stomach. This conversation was beyond ridiculous and absolutely pointless. Regardless, he’d fired back, amusement blurring the edges of his words.

  “Sure, if you’re trying to woo an accountant. Which, knowing you, wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “And what’s wrong with accountants?”

  A sting of something uncomfortable flushed inside my chest. He was all jest, but the thought of him with anyone, let alone a boring fuck…. Yeah, no, I didn’t like it one bit. “Nothing, if you’re into balance sheets and… excitement that only happens at tax season.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

  I laid it on thick. “Impossibly charming, you mean.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

  “Believe it? Lucas, honey, I live it,” I declared. “Now, salad… I’d hate for HR to think we’re having too much fun.”

  He snorted and once again shook his head, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Hell, the last time I reported to HR was when you were a cub.” He arched his brow, and fuck if the way his gaze roamed my body didn’t make my dick take notice. “And if I did, like hell I’d be reporting anything that happened while we were here.”

  The implications almost had me swallowing my tongue. “Damn…,” I managed, “like a whole ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ scenario?” ’Cause, seriously, I could totally get on board with that. Pretend that all my issues and promises to not get up close and personal with Lucas didn’t exist just while we were here…? Fuck yes. My interested cock turned rigid.

  “That’s not what I⁠—”

  “It’s not?” I said as I took a step in his direction.

  His eyes widened, his head angling back as I took one step closer.

  He didn’t speak, but neither was he stepping away.

  “So, what did you mean?” Once we were practically chest to chest, I breathed him in. How the man smelled of cinnamon and rich earth, I had no clue. The combination should have been bizarre and unappealing.

  It wasn’t. Not when drifting off Lucas with his barely there breaths. While still slow compared to mine—a shifter’s—they were much faster than normal for a vampire.

  He dipped his chin, and I lost his gaze. I missed the defiance, the certainty I usually saw immediately.

  What I should have done was step away, let him go. We both knew this was beyond foolish. But my gravelly “Look at me” escaped anyway.

  The moment he lifted his gaze and we made eye contact, I was done for. That quiet, rare vulnerability I’d previously caught glimpses of lay on display. It was impossible not to eat it up, grab hold and take it, lap it up, and have ownership.

  “Give me your hands.”

  The hesitation lasted a split second before he held them out. I angled to give him room, then took hold of his cool palms. On contact, his gaze wavered. Lucas following orders was a beautiful thing.

  I manoeuvred his hands deliberately, slowly, and placed them around my neck. Wide-eyed, he stared at me. I suspected he was struggling to believe he was going along with this.

  Not wanting to lose him, especially not with the way his eyes glazed a little, I dropped my voice, instructing, “Hold on.”

  He did.

  My cock punched against my jeans.

  So fucking beautiful. Responsive.

  Cupping his backside, I lifted him as I ordered, “Kiss me,” while encouraging him to wrap his legs around my waist before I settled him on the small table.

  One beat. Two.

  “Now, Matt. Kiss me.”

  A fresh shine appeared in his eyes, a slight sag in his shoulders as he expelled a breath. His lips touched mine, ice to my fire, and fuck if the contact didn’t make my blood sizzle.

  Any moment of hesitation Lucas may have had dissipated as I deepened the kiss. He responded eagerly, his hands tightening around my neck, drawing me closer. I guided the kiss, my hunger driving me to capture every taste and the low moans drifting between us. I lapped at him, opened wider, encouraged him to delve deeper.

  Our kisses turned feverish, intense to the point of overwhelming.

  Desperation fuelled my actions, a primal need urging me on. With each kiss, each touch, I held him tighter, holding him still. Letting him continue to grind against me would have had me coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time. I’d need his cock down my throat and his cum in my belly as he begged for everything before I was willing to let go.

  His hands tightened on my neck, anchoring us. Me to him.

  “I need…,” he said with a gasp, pulling his lips from mine.

  “What? Tell me.”

  The flush I’d been waiting for painted his cheeks. My fingers squeezed his backside on reflex. What would he look like spread naked under me, his usually pale skin pink with desperation and desire?

  Fuck. I needed to know. Craved to lick every inch of him as he came apart with my fingers and tongue. Wanted him to bounce on my cock until he lost all sense of composure, every semblance of who he was.

  “You.” He gulped, his eyes shining with recklessness that I was determined to commit to memory.

  I waited him out, brows arched in question, sure there was more. Though him having me was already a done deal.

  “You,” he repeated, the pink deepening to a scorching red as he admitted, “taking the lead… control.”

  Fuck me dead.

  My mouth latched onto his with a fierceness that I knew he could handle. Our tongues tangled, the kiss turning possessive as I held his body, my dick pressing against his stomach. If he needed to give up control, wanted me to take over everything, I was here for it all.

 

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