Page 57 of An Uncertain Claim

“Turnabout is fair play,” I teased.

Peyton looked like she was trying to come up with an argument but failed and muttered, “Point to Nate.”

“Oh, were we keeping score? Who’s winning?” My wolf was enjoying the tone of our easy banter and he brushed his fur under my skin, coming close to the surface to be nearer to our mate.

“That’s not important,” Peyton said with a careless wave. “Can I go back to work now?”

“No. We are going to talk.”

Peyton opened her mouth, and I was about to kiss her to shut her up when my door opened and in walked the King and Prince of the French vampires with Poppy right on their heels.

“Poppy,” I growled.

“I didn’t even know they were there until they were opening your door,” she explained, wringing her hands.

I sighed and set Peyton on her feet. “It’s all right. Thank you, Poppy.”

She threw the brothers a wary glance before scurrying from the office.

“You couldn’t have called?”

Lucien, dressed casually in a white dress shirt, half-buttoned and untucked from his breeches, strolled to the couch and sat down, spreading his arms over the back and setting the foot of one of his tall riding boots on the opposite knee. His ice-blue eyes trailed over my mate, and he inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they had a reddish tint. “She smellsdélicieuse.”

I yanked Peyton against me and scowled. “Teeth and hands off, bloodsucker. Unless you really do want a war.” My wolf growled menacingly, the sound rumbling from my chest, making Peyton watch me warily. As if she was afraid that at any minute I would shift and kill them both.Not the worst idea.

Lucien smiled and Phillipé chuckled as he took a seat in one of the chairs, his position a little stiffer than the king. He was dressed in an expertly tailored grey suit with French cuffs—each sporting a diamond—and blood-red tie. Phillipé had always been slightly more formal than his brother.

“Relax,” Lucien drawled. “I can admire the flower in the garden without picking it.”

Peyton snorted a laugh and Lucien’s amused gaze turned back to her. “Something amuses you,chérie?”

A real laugh bubbled up from Peyton’s chest. “It’s just”—more laughter—“just referring to me as a”—another bout of giggles—“a flower. Like I’m sweet and delicate?” She laughed so hard she had to bend over and put her hands on her knees. Our eyes were all on her, but somehow, we didn’t even realize what she’d done until her panther was behind Phillipé, one paw on his chest, claws curled inward, the other around his neck with her claws pressing into his skin without drawing blood and holding it to the side. The position bared his throat to her very impressive fangs.

“Merde,” Lucien breathed. Shocking the king was nearly impossible to do and I couldn’t help smiling at the gorgeous, sleek, black, spotted jaguar. My mate was lethal, and her show of dominance was hot as fuck. It was tempting to tell the French royals to get the hell out so I could feel those claws digging into my back while I fucked Peyton long and hard.

But, despite their lazy attitudes and banter, they wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t serious. I walked to my wildcat and ran a hand over her silky, midnight fur. “Come away, sweet girl,” I murmured. She immediately released Phillipé and backed off.

“Bien fait,” Phillipé rasped as he sat forward and rubbed his chest.

“Wait here,” I told them. Then I walked with Peyton’s panther down to her office and urged her inside before shutting the door. I went around and lowered the blinds on her window, the glass walls to the reception area and her door. With that task complete, I headed to her desk and opened the bottom drawer on the left side.

“Bien fait?” Peyton asked as I gathered up her extra set of clothes. We kept them around for moments like this, when we shifted without disrobing, which shredded whatever we were wearing.

I stood and moved toward my now-human mate. “‘Well done,’” I translated as I handed her the garments. Once she’d taken them, I grabbed her chin firmly with my thumb and forefinger, tipping her head back so I could seal my mouth over hers. My tongue swept inside, dancing with hers and soaking up as much of her taste as I could. After a few minutes I knew I needed to stop because I was fast approaching the point where I wouldn’t be able to.

“You are the sexiest woman I have ever seen,” I rasped against her mouth, then nibbled the corners. I pulled back and grinned at the dazed, angry expression on her beautiful face. I hated to remove it, but I was at the end of my patience. I was starting to feel like the clingy girlfriend constantly asking, “Where are we going?” But in order to move forward, we needed to clear the air about what was really happening between us.

Peyton’s eyes cleared and she smiled seductively before setting her clothes on the desk and putting on her bra and panties.

“I have to deal with whatever the de la Coeurs are here about. Then I’m going to come back and we’re going to talk.” My tone was firm and commanding.

Peyton paused to look at me for a moment, then pulled a black sweater over her head. “But—”

“No buts, baby. No more avoiding. I’m tired of chasing you for answers. Don’t make me tie you up,” I threatened, not joking at all.

She didn’t say anything as she tugged on a pair of black leggings, then bent down to buckle her black sandals.

“Peyton,” I said. Her head rose and she met my gaze. “Is that clear?”

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