He found a curl of hair that trailed over her shoulder and caught it between his thumb and finger. Rubbing it, experiencing the softness of it, he stared up at the ceiling as he inhaled slowly.
“No, it won’t be easy.” The scent he caught assured him of that. There was very little time left. “We need to get dressed, baby.”
She levered up and stared down at him. He could smell the trepidation, the edge of nervousness rising inside her. “Why?”
“We’re about to have company.” Moving from the bed, Malachi gathered her clothing, handed it to her then collected his own.
Rule was leading the pack, so to speak. He could smell his commander’s anger, just as he could smell the anger of the men with him.
“What’s going on, Malachi?” Nervousness was edging into fear as she pulled her dress over her head and allowed the silken length to fall to her feet.
Hell, they hadn’t had enough time, not enough to combat what he sensed was coming, he feared.
“Commander Breaker, your father, uncle and grandfather are coming up the hall,” he told her. “The commander is trying to delay them. Breaker never moves that slow, which means they’re not heading to a meeting. They’re coming here.”
He glanced at the bed, and on the sheets he saw the proof of the innocence he had taken not long before.
“Great,” Isabelle muttered. “Just what I need. How did any of them even know where I was?”
Exactly. Neither Breaker nor Stygian would have informed the three men of Isabelle’s whereabouts, and her sister and friend wouldn’t have known. At least not for certain.
A hard knock at the door signaled the arrival of the group.
“How did you know they were coming?” she hissed as a startled flinch had her jerking toward the door.
“I could smell them,” he sighed. “The commander is pissed and your family more so.”
Striding to the door, he gripped the knob and opened it slowly, placing himself in the small opening he made.
“Can I help you, Commander?” he asked Rule, though his gaze met that of her father, Terran Martinez.
“The Martinez family is here to collect the girl,” Rule stated coldly. “Produce her, Malachi.”
The order grated on the independence and pride that Malachi knew he had a surfeit of. He pulled his gaze slowly from the father and met his commander’s. “They can see her, but no one is collecting her.”
“The hell we’re not.” Terran Martinez was clearly furious. “I’ll be taking my daughter home, Coyote, whether you like it or not.”
Hell, this wasn’t the footing he’d wanted to begin his life with Isabelle on.
He could feel her moving toward him.
“I feel I should inform you, Commander Breaker, Isabelle Martinez will not be leaving this room. To allow anyone to force her to leave will be breaking Breed law.”
He had no idea how much these men may or may not know about mating heat. There were times the people of the Nation knew more than anyone wanted them to know. He was informing his commander subtly that Isabelle was now his mate, and therefore under every Breed’s protection. Including Rule’s.
“Mr. Martinez,” Rule said softly. “As I told you, this meeting will be held with civility, and the only way Ms. Martinez will go anywhere is if it’s her wish.”
Isabelle stepped to her mate’s side. “Dad?” Confusion and hurt laced her voice as Malachi allowed her only a sliver of room to face the men confronting him from the hall. “What’s going on?”
“Get out here, Isabelle.” Stone-faced and furious, Terran Martinez spoke in a tone that had Malachi’s hackles immediately rising and a growl rumbling in his throat.
Isabelle laid her hand on his arm, a move that was immediately noticed by all five men as they stood in the hall.
“Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this in the room,” Rule suggested calmly, if mockingly. “You never know when or where a damned journalist is hiding.”
And he was right, Malachi knew he was right, but he was loath to have the fury of the Martinez family invading the scent of his mate’s pleasure that filled the room.
“Malachi,” Commander Breaker growled in a reminder that the walls didn’t just have ears, but could have eyes as well.