Into the Pride (Nuuba Pride Shifters #1) by Michelle Monkou Page 2

  “For you to get dressed, please.” Her hands, used as a shield, hadn’t lowered.

  “And then?” He backed into the bedroom for his pants. No more turning his back on females.

  “I need your help. A matter of life and death.” She inched her way forward following him. “We really don’t have much time.” She slowly lowered her hands from her eyes and waited for his response.

  Chapter Two

  David studied the dark-haired beauty with the warm caramel complexion. Not since his life as a guard had he been sought for matters of life and death. Those days were long gone. As an archeologist and historical archivist, how could he possibly be important for a human’s mission?

  Other than triggering his memory with the familiar waft of spices, everything else about her held no connection. Now that pants covered his nakedness, she met his open assessment with equal directness.

  He regarded her with curiosity. From her, what he read in her analysis was doubt. The very idea that she perceived him as not up to par needled at his ego.

  Modesty wasn’t his vice. A few dings here and there, but overall he had the sleek, powerful design that nature intended, his cock included. At six-five, two hundred ten pounds, body fat at three percent, he was chiseled like a masterpiece. The perfect recruit for a royal bodyguard. And apparently the perfect recruit for a damsel in distress. Although the disdainful curl of her lips tempered his brag.

  “It’s after midnight. I don’t tend to get calls for help in the middle of the night.” He paused. “From spicy … sweet … women who smell heavenly.”

  From disdain to amusement, could it be that he’d managed to break through the icy exterior? A smile flittered on, then disappeared. Light from the nearby floor lamp cast a softened glow across her face, shimmering against her eyes. Hazel with hints of amber. Exotic.

  He grabbed a shirt and slid it on.

  “That’s a strange tattoo.” She stepped closer. Her hand paused in midair, where his shirt hung open, as if waiting for permission.

  He flinched, but stayed his ground. A touch was like a kiss—he wanted to make the first move. And his tat was definitely off limits. Permission wasn’t granted. Instead, his fingers quickly fastened the buttons.

  “Sorry.” She dropped her hand. Embarrassment flooded her face. “Didn’t mean to…” She blew out a breath and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets.

  Maybe one day, he’d let her stroke those long, delicate fingers against his skin. There was interest on his side. Solid good looks, in spite of a body effectively hidden under unflattering clothes. Personality—not the shy type, but still under assessment.

  From her perspective, he was sure that she had more than a smidgen of sexual interest in him. When it came to sex and carnal pleasures, he recognized awe. Rise in pulse. Flush to the skin. Restlessness from the moist desire stirring between the legs. Breasts thrust forward. Mouth dry. Nibbling on bottom lip. Pupils dilated. Now all she needed was to let go of inhibitions.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Starr.” Her chin lifted a smidgen.

  With every stroke of her hair, she flooded his room with the smell of her shampoo. A subtle mixture of wild orchids, violets and tangy mandarin. Every part of this woman smelled good. Did she work in a spice shop? He sucked in air through clenched teeth to taste the familiar scent that had followed him home almost every night. He closed the remaining distance between them for certainty sake.

  David circled her, inhaling, processing, and deducing his level of danger. A shining curtain of dark hair hung well below her shoulders, resting against the middle of her stiffened back. His admiration continued its path downward and over her beautiful heart-shaped ass, evident even in the unflattering pantsuit.

  “No last name?”

  Now facing her, his inspection covered the slender lines from her neck to her shoulders and full swell of breasts, perfectly matched to the curves of her hips. She was tall, but not enough to stand forehead to forehead.

  “Don’t feel that I need one.” She returned his scrutiny with a hard gaze that was stoic, reserved and proud—the pursed mouth and thrust of her chin spoke volumes. He detected no ill will. Nevertheless, his guard was still in place.

  David ushered her back into the sitting area and indicated the couch. He took the seat opposite her.

  “What exactly do you want, Starr?” Saying her name struck a discordant chord in his memory. He frowned, unable to sift quickly through the murky depths for an answer.

  “I need your help.” She had taken the seat. “I’m on a mission, of sorts.” She spoke with cultured elocution, as if English wasn’t her first language.

  “I don’t do missions.” Not too many knew of his past as a royal bodyguard. Even then, his assignments would come directly from the king. “I am contracted by the city to catalogue the remains of the Nuuba Kingdom. Many consider the old city gone after the earthquake, but I’m certain there is still much to learn and be shared with the people of Theos.” What he searched for would shift the balance of power, hopefully by peaceful means, but most likely by war.

  “I’m looking for a temple,” Starr continued as if he hadn’t objected.

  “I’m not a priest or a monk.” A temple? He hadn’t seen that coming. Avid history buffs and documentary producers frequently approached him with various quests and conspiracy theories about the Nuuba Dynasty and its influence. Some were harmless with their frenzied interest. Others, with sinister affiliations, bore further investigation when they triggered his alarm.

  “I know who you are. That’s why I know you can help.” She sat on the edge of the seat, her hands tightly clasped to match her earnest expression. “The head temple was commissioned by the queen and dedicated to the Sisters of Cassiopeia. It was part of the palace buildings that were destroyed by the earthquake.”

  “Its existence is a myth.” David sighed. Here was another zealous member of the Nuuba fandom. She probably belonged to a group who had monthly meetings and annual treks to discover artifacts. Many romanticized the ancient city’s history with exaggerations and downright inaccuracies. He’d hoped there was a real reason to have her around.

  She visibly bristled. “Are you one of those jackasses who can’t believe that there was an order of female priestesses?” She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

  “Look, let me drop a bit of history. There were always female cults in the kingdom. Some allegedly had magical powers, others professed to study medicine, and some were only a women’s club like other strange cults. These larger-than-life, girl-power stories draw in the tourists.” David’s irritation spiked. “Meanwhile, the real history of the Nuuba dynasty and the real details of its downfall remain in ruins below the city.”

  That was more than a mouthful. More than he’d readily shared with anyone. David cleared his throat. “My turn to apologize.”

  “No worries. We’re now even.” His determined visitor reached into a satchel and pulled out a worn manila file that barely contained its papers. She shoved it toward him. “The Sisters of Cassiopeia were not your regular ministry. There was a secret order of warrior priestesses.”

  David snorted. Now, he’d add delusional next to beautiful for her description.

  “They were a close-knit group created to guard the king.” Anger sharpened her tone.

  “The king died. The queen died. And the heir is gone. Their bodyguards were rounded up, imprisoned or executed brutally. I can still recall the bloody scenes, body parts. The smell…” His voice choked. “The stench of death doesn’t fade. The city burned for days.” His heart filled with hate for what had been done and self-loathing for what he’d failed to stop.

  “Our High Priestess answered to the queen. We were created to protect the royal family because of the sisterhood’s keen healing skills, but also because we were ferocious warriors. We had to train to protect ourselves from the constant threat of invasion and assaults.”

  David shook his head. The idea of this slender-framed woman, w
ith delicate features, and a phenomenal imagination, kicking anyone’s ass was laughable. “I’m sorry. You are a fascinating creature.”

  Did she just growl at him?

  “You’re wasting your time.” He really wanted to say his time. “There’s no such sisterhood or temple. The Royal bodyguards were the only ones trained and conscripted to protect the Nuuba Leader and his family. Ambassador Xavier betrayed the Pride to partner with the humans and their continued effort not only to take down the realm, but to eliminate it from existence.” He stood, marking the end to this unusual visit.

  She’d dredged up raw emotions. His lion paced, unsettled and irritated. Its essence stormed through his blood, looking for a way to release its anger.

  “Ambassador Xavier would not have betrayed the realm.” She shook her head, clearly frustrated. “Look at the file. Maybe then you’ll change your chauvinistic mindset. I know the temple existed.” Her chin jutted out. “Are you afraid to consider that not only the men of Nuuba held power?”

  David liked a feisty woman, except when said feistiness was used on him.

  She continued. “There may be tunnels. The temple was built behind the queen’s living quarters.”

  “I know every inch of the palace grounds. The queen’s side of the palace had no building for a temple.” He waved off her protest. “Let’s say that you aren’t delusional. And you find the temple. Then, what?” At least he had a real reason to find the kingdom.

  “I think you’re being deliberately offensive. Typical. The temple was constructed below the queen’s private quarters. The area continued underground with another entrance beyond the walled city.”

  No denying that there was a ring of truth to what she said. Didn’t mean that he had the time to help her. Maybe, after he was done with his project, they could date and go on a private dig.

  David was ready to close the curtain on this production. “Look, Starr, it’s been a long day. And an even longer night. I don’t have the time to help. I am intrigued, though, so please keep in touch. In the meantime, there is a museum on women’s history that may have whatever information you’re seeking. Tours are avail—”

  Needle-like prickles spread across his chest. David opened his mouth to scream. The sound stuck in his throat. His fingers pulled at his shirt wadding the material in his hand. He wanted the stinging pain to stop.

  Starr’s concerned face hovered. Her lips moved. Repeating something.

  His knees buckled and he hit the floor hard. Searing pain expanded onto the left side of his chest.

  Her hands cupped his face. Again, she spoke, but her words sounded distant and garbled as if he was submerged under water.

  What the hell was happening? His beast awoke from a slumber. Pacing. Low growls over his human distress. Yet, no shift occurred.

  The pain switched off.

  “Take a deep breath.” Starr’s face slid into his view. It took a few seconds to realize that she spoke to him.

  He obeyed.

  “Now exhale.”

  Again, he followed her soft, coaxing voice. His chest still suffered the afterburn of the searing heat over his skin. He pulled off his shirt to inspect the damage. “What the hell?” His skin was normal. Slightly red, but no bubbling of the top layer, no burns, no scorched smell. Nothing was different. Except the diamond embedded in his flesh glowed like a bright, white light, hot to the touch.

  “Looks like you had an episode.”

  He struggled out of her hold. The diagnosis, despite its non-specific nature, felt appropriate. Her touch, that he’d expected to be soothing, like her voice, ignited confusion. Clear thinking failed, along with calming his emotions.

  “I’ll see a doctor,” David lied. His attempt to stand was awkward and slow. A couple times, she instinctively reached out. But he jerked away.

  The stroke of her fingers against his cheek stirred his beast. It pawed, grunting, activated by her proximity. But it was his human spirit and body that was ready to take up the charge.

  “If you’re all right, I’ll leave.” Despite her statement, she didn’t move.

  He nodded. She’d wreaked havoc with his nerves. When she touched him, a longing sprang forward, too close to the surface. A longing to be with her. That wasn’t happening. He had no time for long-term relationships. And he certainly didn’t want an alliance with a so-called fighter-priestess, even one with a sweet ass. David coughed. His throat ached for cool liquid.

  Without saying a word, she headed into his kitchen. He heard the cabinet door open and close and then the faucet turn on and off. She returned with a glass and offered it to him.

  “Here. Drink.”

  He gratefully took it. The cool water soothed his parched throat. “Thanks.”

  She grinned. “From my perspective, I just saved your life. So, I’ve earned some credit for your help.”

  “With only a glass of water?” His gaze dropped to her mouth, which tended to pout when she formed her words.

  “Still counts. What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

  “That’s a good question—if you weren’t here.” He repeated the statement in his mind. The answer that popped up shifted suspicion to the only other person in his house. After all, she had stalked him. Clove, anise, and cinnamon. Then she’d shown up with her dogged determination to get his help. The curious mixture of pain and pleasure when she lay hands on him. The urge for her presence unsettled him—the man. Him—the lion. Should he push her away? Or should he pretend to hold her close until the end of his project?

  “I need you to help me find the temple.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. You find your temple and then…” His eyebrows rose for the punch line.

  “And then I can get to work.”

  “Newsflash. The royal family is no longer in need here—king, queen, and prince—they died. So what work could you possibly do?”

  “There is information that I’m seeking. People who could be of service to the Sisters.” She pinned him with those gorgeous hazel eyes.

  Why, oh why, did she have to be a priestess? “A recruitment drive? That’s it? You do know how to make an impression.”

  “Read the file and then I’m sure we’ll have a deal. Here’s my card where I can be reached.”

  His view traveled the full length of her body. Spending time together while he read that damn file of hers could prove interesting. Why the hell not?

  “See you in the morning.” She slipped the satchel over her shoulder.

  “Or, you can stay the night.” He looked at his watch. “It’s almost morning anyway.”

  She shook her head. A shy smile teased a dimple near the corner of her mouth.

  “It’s not like you haven’t seen the merchandise,” David taunted.

  “I’ll admit that your outer trappings are impressive.” She turned her back on him and headed for the front door. But then, with a decisive sniff, she said, “I prefer to celebrate the true essence of a man, his true inner nature that rules his heart and mind.”

  His beast stirred, sexually charged by her words. He pulled up short and pawed at the ground. David’s hand clutched his chest. His heart pumped hard under his palm. The diamond was still cool.

  “Are you okay?” She gestured at his hand, still clutching his shirt.

  “Would you care?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you should make sure I have whatever I need.”

  “I am. I’m making sure that you live.”

  He frowned. “What the hell does that mean?” He pushed himself up. Was she laying down a threat? London had barely left with her life. If Starr was about to kill him, he didn’t intend to be generous.

  “You may not understand, David. The temple is a life and death matter for me. I have searched long and hard to find you so that you can help me. Your well-being is, therefore, critical to my success. Call me.”

  “You make the whole thing sound … unsexy.” David watched her exit out the door. “And damn it, I re
ally want you,” he remarked to the now empty room.

  Chapter Three

  Starr hurried to her car, tumbled in and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Breathe. Every arterial point on her body throbbed as if on the verge of a volcanic eruption. After witnessing a terrified woman running out of his house, the start to her adventure had been a bit shaky. But she was glad she’d stuck to her task. Whether it was luck or fate, she’d finally connected with David Chastain. No doubt remained. She had found the Nuuba prince and, though he didn’t know his true identity, she’d make certain one day he’d be king.

  Once David read the file she’d left, there was no way that he could refuse to help her locate the temple. Besides, if the evidence didn’t sway him, then his overt sexual interest in her would be sufficient motivation. A shiver of excitement, for an entirely different reason, spiked her pulse. Either way, it was a win-win. Starr started the car and headed to her temporary home.

  She pulled up in front of the inn. Although the place was dark and quiet, she doubted the innkeeper had retired. With a wary glance at the shadows, Starr was grateful for the outdoor lamps that lit the path to the front door. Would the owner hear if something happened outside her own door?

  Starr reached for the doorknob, but the door swung open. A small, gray-haired woman, bundled under layers of colorful shawls, stood back from the doorway. A welcoming smile greeted her arrival.

  “Madame Voorhees, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  The woman beckoned her through the living area. “Dear, I couldn’t sleep without knowing if you were okay. This city isn’t quite what it used to be.” Despite her fragile state, she moved efficiently through the rooms.

  “I’m back, safe and sound. Sorry to keep you from your bed.” Starr was touched by Madame Voorhees’s kindness. The older woman had taken her under her wing, and treated her like a granddaughter. The concern and attention were needed after the hits and misses Starr had endured in finding Chastain. Danger lurked because of her pursuit and its impact. This haven provided the safety to think and recharge when her spirit felt low.