Lora Leigh - A Christmas Kiss

The sound of a slow ballad filled the huge room as Hawke led her to the dance floor. Instantly, heat, sizzling energy and a sense of warmth began to invade her. With her head against his chest, his hands settled low at her back, moving her against him, Jessica let the acceptance she had been given sink inside her.

She had found a home; she had found a family. She had people who had believed in her even when it had appeared she had betrayed them.

“I love you, Jessica Raines.”

She almost froze in his arms as Hawke whispered the words at her ear.

Jessica lifted her head and stared up at him, her lips parting, tears filling her eyes. “I’ve always loved you, Hawke Esteban,” she answered, her voice soft, trembling. “Since the moment I met you, I loved you.”

He was her future, he was her heart.

Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers, a sizzling caress that almost caused a moan to break from her throat. She could taste a hint of the spicy essence of his kiss. A taste of lust, need, desire and hunger. A taste that would only fuel her own.

“Soon,” he promised, turning his head until he could brush his lips against her ear. “Soon, mate.”

Soon. Tonight. When they stepped back into their home, when they stepped back into the heat waiting to flare between them.

Soon. Until then, she had this. His touch, this dance and the incredible realization that she did indeed have a future.

It was a night made for lovers. Even amid the party, Christmas cheer, exchange of gifts and laughter, there was an air of warmth and intimacy that bound her to Hawke.

Quiet smiles, the touch of his hand, the knowledge that the sexual need was building inside both of them. When her skin was prickling with awareness and sensitivity, he took her hand and drew her back to Wolfe and Hope where they made their farewells.

Anyone watching them would have known why they were leaving, what would be happening that night. Besides the fact that they were Breeds and they could smell the mating heat, Jessica knew that each touch, each look they stole at each other gave them away.

The drive back to their home was made in silence. The short distance was filled with magic though. The twinkling of lights, the heated warmth spearing between them. When they pulled into the driveway, Hawke stepped around the vehicle, opened the door and then lifted her into his arms.

She couldn’t speak. Her throat felt closed with emotion when he pushed the door open and, rather than moving upstairs, moved to the living room instead.

Where once the room had been empty, there was now a Christmas tree and a lush silk-covered mattress awaiting them.

The lights on the tree lit up as they stepped into the room. Blue and gold. The entire tree was lit with blue and gold. There were only lights, no ornaments, but at the base of a tree was a small, gaily wrapped box.

“What is this?” she whispered as he carried her to the mattress and eased her to the thick silk comforter that covered it.

“It’s our first Christmas.”

awke stared into Jessica’s shining eyes. There were tears there. She stared at the tree as though she had never seen one before, much as he had stared at the first Christmas tree Wolfe and Hope had decorated for Haven’s first Christmas several years before.

There, amid the colors he had chosen for their family—her blue eyes, his golden ones—he watched as she reached out, her fingers trembling, to touch the point of one tiny light. A golden one. His color.

“Hawke.” She whispered his name again, her voice throbbing, as she turned back to him, staring at him as though he had just given her the most precious gift in the world.

He swallowed tightly, his throat nearly closed with emotion. Hell, this was the hardest part to get used to, he thought. So much emotion, when before he had felt so very little. The labs had bred emotion out of the Breeds. The scientists and soldiers beat it out of them, froze it out of them, and in some cases, had killed to be rid of Breeds that couldn’t hide emotion.

Hawke had survived. He had hidden all emotion, often even from himself. He had cared for nothing but the survival of the Breeds as a whole, and once he escaped, he had made certain that the survival of their race was all that mattered to him.

Until Jessica.

Now, staring into the velvety depths of her eyes, he knew that he would die, kill, forsake even his race, for this one woman.

“This is my first present to you.” He lifted the small box from beneath the tree and handed it to her.

The brush of her fingers against his was like fire. He could feel the tremble just beneath her flesh, smell the arousal and the hint of need that filled her. He could also sense the love that poured from her. He had never smelled love before, not in relation to himself.

He could become addicted to it.

Hawke watched as she took the gift from him and slowly pulled at the bow he had tied around the small decorated box. It came loose easily, allowing her to lift the flap open.

Reaching in, she pulled free the angel that was inside. With red gold hair and blue eyes, the porcelain body was finely made. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, feet bare. Behind her back, delicate crystal wings were attached and a glistening halo circled her head.

At her feet sat a great gray wolf, its golden eyes staring up at her in adoration. Finding an artist to create what he had needed hadn’t been easy. The delicate tree ornament had only been finished for a matter of weeks.

“My God,” she whispered, her gaze lifting to his as she cradled the figurine in her palm. “Hawke, it’s beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He had to clear his throat before he could speak further. “It’s our first ornament, Jess. Our first Christmas together.”

Cupping her hand, he lifted free the gold tree ring in the back and helped her to her feet before guiding her hand to the tree.

There, in the center, he attached the ring to a branch and watched as the blue and gold lights gleamed around it.

Turning her to him, his hands on her shoulders, he lowered his lips, touched them to hers and whispered a prayer for their future.

A second later, everything went black.

Jessica heard Hawke’s muted groan. It wasn’t one of pleasure, nor of arousal. The sound was so odd, so animalistic, that her eyes jerked open, even as he pulled her to the mattress.

It was a free fall. It wasn’t a man taking a woman down to continue the pleasure that filled both their minds. It was a complete, boneless fall, his arms still wrapped around her as he somehow managed to drag her beneath him even as she felt unconsciousness overtake him.

“Hawke!” She screamed his name as she pushed at his much larger body, trying to get his weight off her, to figure out what was going on.

After struggling from beneath him, she rose to her knees, her hands gripping his shoulders when a sudden, fiery tug at her scalp jerked her back and threw her to the floor.

Bracing her fall with her hands, she lifted her head and tossed her hair from her face as she stared up at the dark, shadowed male form above her.

A tight sneer pulled at his lips as he glared back at her from eyes that were familiar, and had once been warm and filled with friendship. His husky body was tight, tense with anger, and she swore she could feel the need to kill as it emanated from him.

“Todd.” She whispered his name, her voice ragged with betrayal and pain.

Todd shook his head, the close cut of his dark blond hair gleaming in the Christmas lights. “I thought better of you, Jess,” he snapped. “I never thought you’d become a dog’s bitch.” She almost flinched at the contempt in his tone, then cried out in despair as he kicked Hawke. A swift, hard jab to the ribs that brought no response from her mate, not so much as a harsh, indrawn breath.

Jessica’s gaze moved from his eyes to the gun Todd held. The silenced Trigg Automatic Glacier was built on the old P-90 lines. Fully automatic, it used flesh-searing, armor-shredding ammunition. One bullet could take out an arm, a leg. A shot to the head, chest or back was fatal. It was so illegal that the United States had placed a ban on it more than ten years ago, and all previous sales of the weapon and ammunition were sought out and the owners reimbursed for the confiscation of the weapon.

“What are you doing, Todd?” With her peripheral vision she sought for her handbag. The little derringer she carried was no match for the weapon he was using, but if she could get just one shot off, one to the head or to the chest, then she might have a chance. Hawke might have a chance.

“You stupid bitch.” He sneered, his hazel eyes blazing with wrath as he kicked Hawke again before stalking around the edge of the mattress. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making certain you pay for betraying God and your country. You stupid whore.”

This time he kicked her.

Before Jessica could evade the toe of his steel-lined boot, it connected with her stomach, throwing her back to the edge of the tree as she felt the air whoosh from her body.

Gasping for oxygen, she tried to scramble out of the way of the next kick, crying out as he landed a blow against her hip.

“Are you insane?” she cried out, barely escaping another kick. “The Breeds will kill you for this, Todd.”

He had been her friend. They had worked together in the communications center; they had gone through basic training and Breed security together. He had always had a smile, always seemed loyal to the Breeds, always argued for their rights and their right to live with others.

“They’ll have to figure out who did it first,” he laughed back at her. “How do you think I snuck up on him, bitch? How do you think I managed to hide in the house he spent every waking minute building for you?”

She shook her hair from her eyes as she fought to find a way out of this. How had he managed to sneak up on Hawke? To disable him so easily?

Todd laughed again, the sound ugly, brutal. It echoed with menace and a hunger to inflict pain.

“Can’t figure it out, can you, Jessica?” He smirked. “I guess the Breeds didn’t tell you all about close proximity and association, did they?”

Actually, she did know about it. Close proximity and association was when a human became so much a part of a particular pack or family that his scent began to blend in with those of surrounding family or pack members. The human began to carry not just his own scent, but also the scent of the areas and the Breeds that he was in close proximity with.

“I made sure I stayed close here.” He stared around the living room. “I carried in lumber, I hung around and talked and laughed while it was being built. And afterward . . .” His smile became sly. “Afterward I came inside as much as possible, always certain to wear the same clothes, to make sure when they were cleaned they were washed with Breed uniforms.” He shook his head. “How easy it is sometimes to slip up on them. They tightened security on the rest of us after they suspected you betrayed them, but even then, it wasn’t enough. Because I knew how to fool them.”

He wouldn’t fool them for long. Close proximity and close association only made his scent familiar to the Breeds. Hawke might have missed his individual scent mixed with those of his own as well as those of the other Breeds that had been inside the house to set up the tree and lights, but that wouldn’t mean he was safe.

His scent now was mixed with that of the weapon, as well as the individual scent he carried that would be stronger because of the length of association with the room.

Her knowledge of the subject was limited, but the Breeds’ knowledge wasn’t. They knew how to track their enemies, whether or not they had been in close proximity and association.

“You won’t get away with it, Todd.” She shook her head, knowing she was running out of time. She could see in his expression, in the hardening of the flesh over his cheekbones and forehead, that he was preparing himself to make his next move.

She couldn’t get to the derringer.

“How did you manage to knock out Hawke?” She hadn’t sensed a blow to his head, and surely she would have.

Todd grinned again. It was a smile of smug satisfaction and triumph. “The champagne I handed him at the party. It was drugged. A special little mix of cocktails that carries no scent, no taste, and takes several hours to react on the Breed senses. I took my chances on it.” He shrugged. “Look how well it paid off.”