He had expected it.
He had known her uncle and her grandfather wouldn’t relent in turning over the genetic identifications of each of the registered human and Breed members of the Navajo Nation.
Genetic typing had begun when the Breeds had first made themselves known thirteen, nearly fourteen years before. When the Navajo Council had realized the number of their missing daughters who had been kidnapped to aid in the creation of the species, they had immediately set out to ensure they could identify which of the emerging Breeds were their own.
The Navajo weren’t the only Native Americans to have contributed, though. The members of the scattered tribes spread across the United States had sent in blood, genetic identification and all the details that went with it. Just in case. Just in case Breed blood could save a chief or a medicine man, a child or a warrior or a mother. Just in case a daughter returned and children born of her stolen eggs, or a child born of her body, came searching for her.
In case the daughter didn’t return, and the grandchildren did.
Isabelle knew that was her grandfather’s dream. That one day something of the daughter he had lost would return to the Nation seeking the blood ties the Martinez family and the Navajo Nation represented.
As Ashley had done, along with her sister, Emma.
They had come searching, and had found a family they hadn’t known existed for them. Small though they were, and as hidden as Ashley and Emma could keep them, still, the ties were there.
And Isabelle was finding a tie of her own, she thought as she returned to her room to change clothes.
Malachi.
He hadn’t been at the meeting, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been thinking about it.
He was all she could really think about.
Her ear still tingled with the memory of the nip and that tiny lick to the slight wound.
The rest of her body was heated, had been heated and refused to cool down.
Even the quick, cool shower she forced herself to have didn’t help. As she used the soft, suds-filled cloth between her thighs, she swore it was more frustrating than trying to masturbate.
Each time the silky suds and the soft pile of the cloth raked over her clitoris, it was like being pierced with a hunger so heated she could barely stand it. It made the shower quicker, though, for the fact that she didn’t attempt to masturbate.
Rinsing her hair and body quickly, she stepped from the shower and hurriedly prepared for the evening.
She dressed in a loose, silky maxi dress, the casual outfit falling to the floor at her sandals and giving her a feeling of intense, sensual femininity.
The brush of the cool, slick material against her hardened ni**les was almost an unbearable caress. The feel of her bra had chafed the tender points until removing it had been imperative.
The long length of her raven black hair fell below her shoulders in long, soft waves after she blow-dried it. Her blue eyes, almost a cobalt, looked brighter, more intense than she remembered them being before.
Her complexion looked clearer, her cheeks flushed, her lips looked almost kiss swollen. Leaning in closer to the mirror, Isabelle stared at her reflection with a slight frown. She didn’t even need makeup as she usually did. How strange was that?
This was what arousal did to a woman? Anticipation?
She could handle this. Her gaze fell to the small charm she had placed on a gold chain and put around her neck.
A curved fang, the symbol of the Coyote Breeds that he had left for her. Lifting her hand, she brushed her fingers against the fang as the need for his touch raced through her system.
Transferring a few necessary items to a small leather purse that matched her sandals, Isabelle found pulled the small note Malachi had pushed beneath her door that morning. The roses were in her bedroom next to the bed. A smile touched her lips at the thought of the Breed. She hadn’t expected him to find her so easy. Liza’s friend in registration had swore no one had asked for the room number, but Isabelle knew they would have other ways of finding that information.
Shivering at the thought of him being able to find her so easily, and wondering if he would find her again this evening, Isabelle left her room once again and headed for the elevators at the center of the hotel wing.
She had promised Chelsea and Liza she would meet them at the bar before dinner for a drink. The same bar she had met Malachi in the night before. The same one in which she feared Holden might be watching for her. The one she prayed Malachi would be waiting for her.
But if Holden were there, her sister and Liza would have called long before now.
She had no intentions of staying with them for long. She intended instead to find that damned sexy Coyote if he wasn’t waiting in the bar. If he didn’t take her soon, she just might go up in flames waiting for him.
She swore she was going to eat him up from head to toe and every point in between when he got his hands on her. Once he was naked, she would paint his body with her tongue and taste every inch of his flesh.