Fated, Page 31

  now.

  His pleasant smile turned into a frown as he looked at all the untouched food piled high in front of her. “Maybe I should have made you lunch instead,” he mumbled to himself, confirming his decision with a firm nod as she reached out and grabbed his arm, damn near begging him not to cook another thing.

  The delicious scents were too much for her to take right now and if he added anything else to the mix, she was afraid that she was going to end up hugging the toilet for the next few months. “I’m not hungry,” she promised him, which only made his frown deepen.

  “But you slept for a whole week. You have to be starving,” he said, more to himself than to her, which wasn’t exactly comforting at the moment since all she wanted to do was to leave this room and all the scents battling for her attention behind, but the sick bastard was determined to take care of her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying not to grimace when the scent of bacon clashed with the scent of maple syrup and threatened to send her running for the kitchen wastebasket.

  “You have to eat something,” Drew said, looking adorably concerned as he gestured helplessly towards all the food that he’d made her. “I can call the kitchen and have them whip something up for you.”

  When that last offer actually earned him a gag, he quickly came up with another plan. “Okay, fine then we can order out. Anywhere in Boston. Just name the place and we’ll get the food,” he said with a relieved sigh as though he’d finally stumbled upon a plan that would fix everything when in reality-

  She just barely made it to the kitchen trash in time.

  “Shit!” Drew groaned with a long-suffering sigh as he walked over and joined her. He began rubbing her back. “Maybe I should have stuck with Jell-O or killed a deer and dragged it up here for you,” he suggested, sounding really thoughtful, which was sweet, but unfortunately for him, the visual that he’d just created gave her stomach the helping hand that it needed to finish the job.

  When she was finally done vomiting, and unfortunately that actually took some real time thanks to the remains of food in the kitchen basket and the fact that Drew kept thinking out loud on what would help her feel better, she sat back against the kitchen cabinets, closed her eyes and dropped her head against her knees, praying that she never so much as heard the word “food,” ever again.

  *-*-*-*

  “Give it to her!” Drew snapped at his Beta, but he wasn’t stupid enough to take his eyes off his mate, again.

  Call him crazy, but he usually learned his lesson the first time and since having his mate go for his balls over a box of Lucky Charms wasn’t likely something that he was going to forget, he now knew that during her “crazed” times that it was best to stay as far away from the psychotic woman as possible.

  “It’s my Snickers bar!” Ryan snapped back even as he continued to cower in the corner, hugging the food item in question against his chest as though that would somehow save him or that candy bar.

  “For the love of God, give her the fucking candy bar!” Drew snapped in absolutely no mood to train another Beta at this point in the game.

  “No!” Ryan, the dumb bastard that really didn’t understand women, said as he frantically tore open the candy bar, raised it to his lips and-

  Dropped the candy bar to the floor and kicked it as far away from him as he could, which considering that he was a shifter, wasn’t saying much at all. Kara for her part simply stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked down at the ruined candy bar that was now covered in germs, dirt and whatever else they’d managed to carry in on their feet.

  Drew swallowed hard as he tried to breathe through the panic, but once he saw her lower lip tremble, he knew that it was a lost cause. So, he forced himself to sit there and wait for it, knowing that it would most likely destroy him or send him into a killing rage, either was fine with him.

  She surprised him when she didn’t immediately break down into tears, something that he hated to admit that he’d been expecting for the last five minutes now. But once again, his mate, who he was ninety-nine percent sure had lost her fucking mind, simply wrapped her arms around herself and with a pathetic little nod, she left the kitchen, releasing one tiny little sob as she went and making him turn all of his rage on the Beta still cowering in the corner.

  “Not the face!”

  *-*-*-*

  Could a shifter die of boredom?

  She was afraid that she was going to find out soon if she didn’t get out of here. For two weeks straight she’d been stuck in Drew’s loft, laying on his bed, because the man was terrified that she’d lose the baby if she so much as lifted a finger. She wasn’t allowed to get out of the bed to use the bathroom without someone by her side and if she went past the three minutes that Drew decided was all she needed in the bathroom, he came barging in, fangs down and ready to kill someone.

  The first five times had scared the hell out of her.

  The sixth time had ended with a bottle of shampoo being thrown at his head and her screaming in pain for a good hour and a half because the stupid bottle had made contact with his big, fat head and her mate marking had taken exception to that sort of violence. It hadn’t hurt him, but that hadn’t mattered to the mark. All it cared about was that she was pissed when she threw the bottle and overjoyed when it made contact with his head and boom, instant karma.

  She had to give Drew credit, because the old Drew would have gloated and taken great joy in her pain, but the new Drew, the one that she liked a little too much, had sworn roundly when her mark flared up. She could tell that every second of her misery had been pure hell for him. He’d done his best to make her feel better, but nothing short of cutting off her arm would have helped.

  Once the pain had subsided and she could breathe without bringing tears to her eyes, she’d glared at Drew until he got the hint and brought her a plate of “Drew Specials,” and chocolate soymilk. She of course felt the need to glare at him the entire time she ate, deciding that the whole thing had been his fault for not ducking out of the way when he saw the bottle come flying at his face.

  He was a shifter and should have reacted accordingly.

  Sighing, she rolled over onto her side and stared blankly at the movie playing on the large flat screen television, having absolutely no idea what was playing and in no mood to waste the energy to reach for the remote so that she could find out. God, she was so bored. Maybe she should take another nap?

  No, even that sounded boring to her.

  The only thing that she felt like doing was going downstairs and help run the club, but Mr. Overprotective had banned her from so much as setting one single toe in his club. She was to keep her ass upstairs and away from the club where anything could happen to her. Overprotective, bossy bastard, she thought bitterly with a hint of a whine as she shifted once again to get comfortable.

  This was their first pregnancy, which was going to be difficult enough, but add the fact that she was also an impure with human blood running through her veins and there was no way to know what to expect from this pregnancy. The odds of her losing the baby were a lot higher thanks to her status and Drew refused to let her do anything that could bring harm to their child.

  So, he was keeping her locked up in his plush bedroom like a prisoner. A spoiled prisoner, she rectified a few seconds later when she looked around the room at all the things that she’d demanded and simply sighed, because none of them brought her joy.

  She was so damn bored and God knew that when she was bored that she did really stupid shit that would eventually catch up with her and get her ass in trouble and tonight would be no exception, she decided as she got up without yelling for help, which was one of Drew’s rules, and headed for the bathroom.

  Chapter 41

  “You have to do it,” Ryan said with a grave expression as Drew waved away a couple of bimbos interested in sharing his bed.

  When they tried to sit at his table and climb on his lap, he proudly pointed at the wedding band that he’d begun
wearing a week ago and basically gave them an expression that told them to fuck off. Like he’d want three fucking bimbos in his bed tonight when he had a mate that knew how to drive him out of his fucking mind.

  Wait, he wasn’t supposed to think about having sex with Kara right now. He’d made that decision only this morning after he’d watched a documentary on the Discovery channel about activities that could be dangerous during pregnancy.

  No matter how much he wanted to slide inside his mate, and God did he want to slide inside his mate, he wouldn’t do it. Not until after Kara had given birth and had fully healed. The baby and Kara were the two most important things in his life, so he would do whatever it took to keep them safe, even if that meant keeping his cock that loved Kara more than he did away from her.

  Self-enforced celibacy, he thought with a reluctant sigh, because he really never thought that he would see the day when he happily gave up sex. Not that he was actually happy about it, but if keeping his cock locked away in his pants meant keeping his mate and unborn child alive, then by God, he would never let the bastard have free reign again.

  “Why do you look like you’re about to have a psychotic breakdown and kill everyone here with your bare hands?” Ryan asked with a curious frown and a tilt of his head even as he discretely pushed his chair back a few inches out of Drew’s reach.

  Not that, that would have actually stopped him if he wanted to kill the little bastard, which he kind of had to admit that he did. It would give him something to do, he mused absently. Maybe it would help him work out a little bit of this extra tension that he was feeling.

  With a thoughtful expression on his face, Ryan moved his seat back another few inches. “So, umm, is there anything that you want to talk about?” Ryan asked, clearing his throat uncomfortably, probably guessing exactly how close Drew was to leaping over the table and messing up his Beta’s pretty boy face just for the hell of it.

  “No,” Drew said tightly, glaring at his Beta and contemplating the odds of wrapping his hands around his Beta’s neck before the bastard managed to jump out of the way and make a run for it.

  The odds were probably about fifty-fifty, not even worth getting off his ass, he decided with a bored sigh as he looked around the packed club, making note of who was here, who was missing and which one of his Pack members was spending a little too much time with members of other Packs, vampires, demons and even humans. He knew that most of his Pack was looking to get laid so they’d be seeking out different partners tonight, depending on what they were in the mood for, but Drew knew that there was probably a hell of a lot more going on here tonight than his pack trying to work off excess sexual energy.

  So, he watched and he waited for the smallest sign that would tell him who was trying to fuck with his life. He had a few suspicions, but until they made their move, he kept his thoughts to himself. Until they did something to confirm his suspicions or looked at his mate the wrong way, he was going to sit back and watch.

  “Uh oh,” Ryan grumbled, practically jumping out of his chair as he got to his feet and stumbled back and out of Drew’s reach.

  Drew would have asked what was wrong, but thanks to his mark and the irresistible scent that his mate gave off, he didn’t need to ask to know that his mate had just disobeyed him, putting her and their unborn baby at risk.

  As he pushed away from the table, he tried to decide between spanking her beautiful ass or chaining her to the bed. Both thoughts were not exactly helping him with his self-imposed celibacy decision. So, he settled for throttling her as he stood up, pushed past the bar bunnies hoping to share his bed tonight and went after her right about the time some asshole made his move.

  *-*-*-*

  “Remember me?” a silky smooth voice, too practiced to be natural said as a large hand landed on her hip and the scent of cheap cologne, industrial ink and body odor bombarded her senses, making it imperative that she find a bathroom, trash barrel or any receptacle at this point to help combat the reaction that she was having to his body odor.

  “No, sorry,” she said, barely giving the guy the time of day as she placed her hand over her stomach, turned around and decided that this really wasn’t something that she wanted to do in the middle of the club.

  As she headed for the back door that lead to the stairs to take her back to Drew’s loft, she told herself that this was not a retreat, but a strategic setback. She would go upstairs, and hopefully not lose her lunch, sip some ginger ale for an hour as she laid down in the fetal position, breathing through the nausea. Once she was sure that she could survive the trip back downstairs, tolerate the heavy music, heavy scents of sweat, sex, perfume, cologne, alcohol and body odor, then she would find a table far away from all the humans, order a chocolate soy milk, sit back and enjoy the music.

  Which, would probably only last for a few minutes, because just the idea of coming back down here for a second hit of body odor was giving her a headache and depressing her. It looked as though she was going to have to avoid coming down to the club while she was pregnant. With that really depressing thought in mind, she doubled her efforts to escape the stench of unwashed, over-perfumed bodies and accepted her fate of spending the next few months on the couch, watching horrible reality television.

  “Hey, wait!” the man who apparently wasn’t going to take rejection so easily said as he caught up to her and put his arm around her. “What’s the rush?”

  “Mother Nature,” she said, knowing that most guys would take that to mean the one thing that terrified them the most and back off, but this guy apparently wasn’t interested in letting her go.