Mate Bond(13)

In the end, when the sun was rising and neither of them could move very much, Bowman had cupped Kenzie's face in his hands.

"You're my mate," he'd said in a voice broken by their long night.

"Yes, all right," Kenzie had growled, and that had been that.

They'd been mated in the ceremony under the sun that day, and then held  the moon ceremony at the next full moon. They'd said prayers to the  Goddess in firelight, and then Kenzie had moved in with Bowman.

Ryan had come along a few years later-a few years of almost constant  mating frenzy, Bowman determined to produce a son. Ryan had been born  robust and healthy, and beautiful. A gift from the Goddess.

Kenzie now watched her son and his friends running together, small and  far away, and her heart warmed. Her jealousy was winding down, as Bowman  had known it would. Damn him.

Her rage had eased, but the worry hadn't. In spite of their joining for  fifteen years, she and Bowman had never formed the mate bond. Shifters  had been proving, in the last years, that they could form it with  humans. So just because the vet in there was human didn't mean she  wasn't a threat to Kenzie, her happiness, and her sanity.

A pair of very strong arms came around her from behind. Kenzie stiffened  as a hard body pressed into her back and Bowman nuzzled the curve of  her neck.

"Come on inside . . ." Bowman's broken whisper trailed off. Kenzie bent  her head to one side and closed her eyes, letting Bowman's heat trickle  down her body. He slid open the button of her jeans and eased his hand  under her waistband.

He inhaled, then his hand froze, and his whisper turned to a growl. "And  who the hell have you been with?" he demanded. "His scent is all over  you."





CHAPTER EIGHT




Kenzie swung around to face her mate, who was wearing nothing but a  bathrobe, with a crutch under one arm, his leg back in the splint,  murder in his eyes.

"What are you doing out of bed?" she asked sharply. "You aren't supposed to put any weight on that for at least two days."

Bowman pinned her with the stare that had stopped her in her tracks  across the gym all those years ago. "Don't go all caregiver on me, and  tell me who you were with."

Rage had him standing straight, the crutch loose. His eyes were light  gray, as though he wanted to shift; but if he did that, he'd hurt  himself again.

"I wasn't with anyone," Kenzie said. "You have a suspicious mind."

"And you weren't looking the kill at Dr. Pat in there. Would not be good if you gutted her, Kenz."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sitting with a guy letting him stroke my leg,"  Kenzie returned. "I was talking to a cop, all right? One who stuffed me  into his patrol car and asked me about what happened last night. He's  smart. He already knew most of it."

Bowman's anger flared. "He stuffed you into his patrol car?"

Kenzie waved her hands. "I exaggerate. He invited me to sit in the front  seat with him. He was really polite while he interrogated me."

Bowman climbed down a little, but only a little. "What did you tell him?"

"He already knew almost everything, like I said. The humans who were at  the roadhouse last night have been talking. For now, the cops are just  trying to figure out what happened."

"Trying to figure out how to blame it on Shifters, you mean."                       
       
           



       

"Maybe. He didn't say." Kenzie tried to relax, but with Bowman standing a  step away, bare beneath the robe, she couldn't. She felt the warmth of  him through the fabric, smelled the comforting scent of male-of him. It  made her want to flow against him, put her arms around him, forget this  stupid conversation.

"What did he say?" Bowman demanded.

"He seemed like he wanted to help." Kenzie's foot moved to take her  closer to Bowman. "Smarter than most cops-more common sense. He wants to  work with us to figure this out."

Bowman had started to lean to her, closing the space between them, but  he snapped upright again. "What do you mean, work with us?"

"Pool information and skills. He thinks it's stupid for humans and Shifters to not be allowed to help one another."

Bowman's lip curled. "And you believed him?"

"Not all humans suck, Bowman. I liked him."

"I know you did. I scent it on you."

Kenzie took the last step to put her directly against him. "Oh, right.  And you hated that cute blond vet coming here to feel up your leg."

"She wasn't . . ." Bowman's brows slammed together. "Goddess, Kenzie, I  wasn't about to go all mating frenzy on her with my leg in a splint."

"If you're so hurt, why the hell are you up walking around?"

"I'm better," he said tightly.

They were face-to-face, Kenzie rising on her tiptoes so they'd be  nose-to-nose. If he'd thought, fifteen years ago, that Kenzie would run  to him like a meek little she-wolf, to sacrifice herself for the good of  all Shifters, he'd learned better since-starting on day one, when he'd  taken her home. He'd realized quickly that she wouldn't simply roll over  and expose her soft throat to him.

Although that sounded kind of fun right now. Kenzie's heart was pumping,  her fingers tingling, the scent of her mate filling her.

The only thing that kept her from leaping on him and sending them both to the ground was the fact that he was hurt.

Kenzie's anger softened. Bowman so rarely was injured. He had to be  feeling vulnerable and hating it. If a dominant Shifter challenged for  his position right now, Bowman wouldn't be able to fight him.

That's why he was outside, she realized. To show any watching Shifter  how quickly he was healing. And Kenzie had left him alone today, taking  his trackers with her.

"Who's been around?" she asked in sudden concern. "Uncle Cristian? If he's bothered you, I'll kick his ass."

"No one," Bowman said. "They're keeping their distance."

Kenzie glanced around. Trees shielded them from the house next door, and  she didn't scent any Shifter lurking in the woods around them. She  noted the cubs playing down the road, their happy shouting floating to  her.

The only incongruous scent was the cloying one of the vet-what had  Bowman called her? Dr. Pat. She no longer wore the perfume she had last  night, but the woman's scent was distinctive.

And all over Kenzie's mate.

"Did Dr. Pat go home?" Kenzie asked sharply.

Bowman came alert as he noted the change in her voice. "I sent her away, yes."

Of course. Dr. Pat wouldn't be allowed to just leave, not under the  jurisdiction of Bowman the überalpha. No one went until he decided.

He didn't get to decide everything.

Kenzie flattened herself against him. "You're still not healed."

"I know that." Bowman's breath was hot on her cheek. "I know that, Kenz."

A ripple of fire spread through her. Kenzie slid her hands inside  Bowman's loose robe, finding the tight warmth of his body, the vibrant  power of him.

She nuzzled his neck as she worked the robe open, taking a pinch of his  skin between her teeth. Bowman made an mmm sound in his throat. Kenzie  nipped him again, and licked where she'd bitten. She'd get rid of the  other woman's scent the most effective way she knew.

Kenzie slid down his body to her knees, the robe opening on her way  down. She paused at his large, bare cock, stiff and straight out, Bowman  not oblivious to her attentions.

Kenzie gave him a glance-more than a glance. Bowman hard was always  worth a long, long look. Then she made herself focus on his hurt leg,  stuck into the binding splint.

The splint was hard plastic, fastened with Velcro, positioned to hold  his limb as motionless as possible. The doctor at the local clinic was  familiar with how quickly Shifters healed, and knew how to patch them up  to not interfere with that healing. Bowman's leg would be knit by the  end of the day.                       
       
           



       

Kenzie loosened the splint's straps. Bowman leaned heavily on the  crutch, but he said nothing as she peeled back the bindings so she could  touch his bare skin.

The main part of the splint, molded to the back of his thigh and calf,  stayed in place. Kenzie skimmed her hands down the front of his leg,  tracing the muscles of his thigh, around his knee, down his lower leg.  Dark hair, silken yet wiry, curled around Kenzie's fingers.

The strength beneath the warm skin made her breath catch. She moved  gently to where his bone had broken and rested her palm there, almost  sensing the hurt beneath the muscle. Bowman tensed, his hand tightening  on the crutch.

His taut leg was tanned from bright North Carolina summers. The tan  petered out around his hip and groin-Bowman wore a bathing suit whenever  they went to the coast and the beaches. Shifters were happy being  naked, but Bowman was always conscious of not pissing off too many  humans.