Page 9 of Blood and Magic (RBMC: Helena, MT #2)

Maeve

I drank well into the night and stumbled up to my bedroom much later than I had intended. I tried to get my bridesmaid dress off, but the zipper proved too complicated for my intoxicated state, so I collapsed face-first onto my mattress and passed out.

My skin would hate me in the morning, but who had time for a cleansing and moisturizing routine after a long night of consuming as much wine as possible and ignoring my childhood crush turned frenemy?

I dreamt that I ran through the forest behind my house.

The thrill of the cool summer air whipped through my hair, coating my skin in dew and light from the full moon overhead.

My bare feet hit the undergrowth, my toes digging into the soil before propelling me forward…

faster…harder. A howl echoed behind me, sending a chill down my spine.

I should be terrified. That sound meant wolves.

But I wasn’t. I threw my head back and let out a roar of my own, something deep and primal. A snapped branch had me sprinting, and I laughed as I took off toward Bastard territory.

“You think you can run from me, baby?” The growl came from right behind me, as if my chaser had leaned against my ear or whispered it inside my head.

“Only if you keep chasing me.” I extended my stride, carrying myself as far as I could.

Just as I was about to break through the tree line and crash into the river, a thick, heavy body slammed into me from the right, taking me down to the ground. I squealed, half in delight, half in terror.

“Got you,” the voice snarled, flipping me over onto my stomach. One hand held the back of my head down, burying my cheek in the dirt. The other grabbed my wrist, pinning it above my body. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should know better than to run from the big, bad wolf.”

My heart pounded against my ribs, the ache in my legs matched only by the shudder between my thighs.

The exhilaration of being hunted had turned me on, and when I arched my back into my attacker, rubbing my ass along the thick length trapped between us, he hissed in a breath and pressed it more firmly against me.

“You’re a naughty girl, Maeve Vanderbilt,” he said, trailing his nose down my neck to the space next to my shoulder blade. “What should I do with you?”

“Oh, no,” I teased. “I guess you’ll have to punish me.”

He snickered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I brushed my ass against him again, rolling my hips, seeking out the part of him that I’d longed to have since I knew what desire was.

“Please,” I said. “I’ve been so bad, and I need a strong, steady hand to put me in my place.”

A loud, blaring noise infiltrated the dream, drowning out the sound of his hoarse reply. I jolted to life in my bedroom. When I snapped my eyes open, sunlight beamed through my windows, blinding me, spearing through my forehead like a jousting lance.

“Aw, fuck.” I rolled onto my side and stuffed my face into the pillows.

My phone rang again, chirping the same annoying sound that had pulled me out of my dream. I glanced at the caller ID and sent it to voicemail.

Liam can fuck off.

A knock at the door startled me, and I lifted my head.

“Yes?” My throat felt like I’d swallowed an entire volcano.

“Miss,” said Ellen, one of our family’s staff who had worked for us since I was little. “Breakfast is ready. Shall I bring you a plate?”

“No.” I groaned and collapsed back on my pillows, debating whether I wanted to get up and eat at the table like a normal person or starve until the hangover passed.

Carbs would probably help soak up the drunk, so I got out of bed, changed into PJs, wrapped a robe around myself, and grimaced at the state of my reflection.

My hair stuck out at odd angles; I hadn’t bothered to remove the pins that held the top bits in place.

My mascara had smudged on one side, and big, heavy bags hung under my eyes like saddlebags.

Well, screw it.

My family was already gone. I had no one to impress.

Stuffing my feet into slippers, I opened the door and shuffled down the hallway toward the stairs, gripping the railing for dear life as I descended.

My head spun and throbbed in time with my heart, and my stomach rolled with each step, like I might vomit if I jostled it too much.

Ugh, I’m never drinking again.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I lumbered into the dining room…only to freeze at the sight of the person sitting opposite my normal spot.

Van…

Er … Mill…

He glanced up at my approach, freshly showered and dressed for the day.

He wore his leather cut, proudly announcing him as a member of the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club, which matched the black cowboy hat sitting next to his silverware.

Mill ran the length of me with his gaze, his features maintaining the same cold, stoic marble he’d had when I first saw him yesterday.

Great. Just freaking great.

This would be my luck to show up hungover, disheveled, looking like hell, and here he sat, as gorgeous as ever. Of course, his eyes held a sinister darkness, and his cheeks had sunken in, making him seem malicious, like a monster from a horror movie.

“Morning,” he said with a hint of a growl.

Gulping, I stepped forward and cleared my throat to reply. “Good morning.”

He sipped his coffee, and I zeroed in on his soft lips curled around the mug.

Stop that.

I quickly glanced away as Ellen entered the room to pour my coffee.

She set a plate in front of me, the smell of eggs and fried tomatoes making my stomach churn.

I lifted the creamer and poured a tiny bit into my coffee before using the spoon to stir it, purposely ignoring how Vermillion stared at me. The silence drifted on.

Typically, the ranch hands didn’t eat breakfast with us, and since Orion had started, he and Sol had moved out to the manager’s cabin near the bunks on the back property.

They rarely joined us for meals anymore.

Seeing Mill had startled me, and as the deafening quiet continued, I wondered why he was here.

By the time I set in on my eggs, I was anxious for someone to join us and break the tension.

I swallowed down the protein-rich food and sipped my caffeine.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I finally met his gaze and raised my eyebrows.

“What?” I asked.

“What?” He set his coffee down and leaned back in his chair.

“What are you doing here? Why are you staring at me?”

For a moment, he said nothing, just continued the glare that had me itching to squirm in my seat.

He cleared his throat and set his coffee mug down.

“I thought we should set a few things straight.”

“Okay?” I stabbed another piece of egg with my fork and brought it to my lips, forcing it down, willing my stomach not to heave up everything I was putting in it. My headache had only worsened with all this talking, so I sipped my coffee.

“Sol didn’t tell you?” He furrowed his brows, looking so damned confused and adorable, I nearly couldn’t help myself from reaching over to smooth out the wrinkles.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m replacing Orion for the next two months while he’s away,” he explained.

“Yeah, she mentioned that.” I rubbed my tired eyes, my mind struggling to keep up with the conversation and his frustratingly overwhelming presence. He took up every space he occupied. He sucked the air out of my lungs like he had a vacuum on my soul. “Why you?”

His eyes hardened, and the mahogany turned to a darker shade of brown, nearly matching his black coffee.

Realizing how mean that sounded, I shook my head and tried again. “No, I’m sorry. I mean…don’t you have better things to do than run a ranch for people you hate?”

“Hate’s a strong word.” He glanced at the table where he fiddled with the corner of a silk napkin. “I’d do anything for Orion. He’s family. So is Sol…after yesterday.”

“And Guin?” I couldn’t stop the words from tripping over my lips.

He met my gaze. “What about Guin?”

“Weren’t you two like…together or something?”

“What’s it matter to you?” His tone had dropped into a grumpy snarl, like he was annoyed at having to be around me and angry about the whole thing.

“It doesn’t,” I said.

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” I barked back.

Silence fell on us again, and heat bloomed across my cheeks at my outburst, spreading down my neck and into my chest. He continued to look at me, his stare burning holes through my skin like he could see all the way to my humiliation.

I didn’t care what it was between him and Guin, I really didn’t.

I’d seen them talking yesterday. She made him smile, and he made her laugh, and she’d touched his arm like she had a right to his entire body.

The way he’d held me surged back through my molecules, reminding me of the blazing electricity between us. I had wanted to devour every inch of him. I wanted him to do the same to me. In retrospect, that might have been the shot of whiskey going to my head.

I blinked back my shame and gulped my coffee, much too hot for my throat, burning down to my gut.

“I need you to look over the cattle rotation,” he said, placing a folder on the desk.

“And we’ve received a new stallion that needs to be broken.

Do you want me to continue training him or sell him?

” He explained a few other things that required my sign-off before pushing the paper stack across the table.

I grabbed it with too much force, and my fingertips brushed against his at the center.

That same zing of fireworks shot through my arm, into my chest, and settled at my heart. I gasped and yanked my hand back.

Mill didn’t react, just raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…static, I guess.” I shifted my hips and opened the folder, glancing over the documents.

I had only a passing understanding of what needed to be done on the ranch.

I’d spent most of my privileged life sheltered from the harsh realities of running one, always away at boarding schools or college.

Now an adult, I worked in an office. Putting on denims and a cowboy hat and shearing sheep had never been a part of my plan.

But I trusted Sol, and she trusted Orion, who ultimately trusted Mill. Perhaps, deep down, if I were honest with myself, I had once trusted him, too, and wanted to again.

“This all looks…acceptable.” I nodded and closed the folder again.

“Great,” he said, pushing to his feet. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

He grabbed his hat and put it on his head, heading toward the door to leave.

But the thought of being alone suddenly caught up to me.

Ava had left for Paris early this morning.

Guin had gone back to Bozeman last night.

Sol and Orion were long gone on their honeymoon.

Galahad had left early to return to school.

I was alone in this big old mansion.

“Mill,” I said, stopping him.

He turned to face me.

The urge to ask him to dine with me tomorrow and every day until my family returned perched on the tip of my tongue. But that would be stupid, certainly one of the most ridiculous notions I’d ever had. He likely had better things to do than waste his time with me.

What? I couldn’t suffer a few weeks of dining by myself? What would my father think? He didn’t raise us to be happy. He raised us to be strong.

“Thank you,” I said instead. “For doing this.”

He nodded. “I’ll see ya around, Maeve.”

His boots heel-toeing across the hardwood echoed through my body long after he closed the door and went outside.

Ugh, I was such a mess. I couldn’t even hold a civil conversation with the man. How in the world would I spend two months living in close proximity to him?

The nine-year-old girl inside me screamed in both mortification and delight as the twenty-six-year-old woman rubbed her hands over her bloated puffy face and internally screamed.