Merde.He’d almost slipped and said wolf. Pierre glared at him. His brother had caught his hesitation. Had she?
After a moment’s pause, she relaxed into his arms and let Pierre wipe her down, dragging the cloth over her pert little breasts, cleaning up the evidence of his release. With a refresh of the cloth, Pierre continued his thorough ministrations between her thighs. She lay there in his arms, limp and satiated, and it wasn’t long before she slipped into a deep and, he hoped, dreamless sleep.
Pierre tossed the cloth and returned to the bed, and they cocooned her between them. Nothing in this world was more precious. They would keep her safe. Louis would give his life for her without a second thought. Pierre, too. The question was—would she let them?
Pierre slipped on his sweats. Melinda still slept, wrapped in Louis’ arms, one leg hooked over his twin’s thigh. He wanted to stay with them, maybe go another round with their hot little mate, have her wake up with both of them beside her, but… Louis met his gaze, and his brother nodded. He understood. In the main cabin, unattended, was Melinda’s laptop.
It pained him to deceive her like this, but there was a lot at stake, and that laptop was the key. Finding Cordelia before Melinda did was the best outcome. For the pack and for their mate. He didn’t want that ruthless old witch anywhere near her. All he could hope was Melinda would see the end result justified the means. If it didn’t… There wasn’t enough cognac in the world to drown out that sorrow. Maxime could attest to that.
He’d need time to crack Melinda’s encryption. With any luck, she would sleep for a few hours. At least one of them would be with her when she woke up. He couldn’t bear her thinking it’d only been sex to them. A frightened woman in need of solace, an opportunity, and nothing more.
With his own laptop open in front of him, he booted up Melinda’s. This wouldn’t be easy. In the three months since Christmas, Melinda had proved herself to be a worthy adversary. It’d been no simple matter to track her down, despite having the neat piece of code he and Louis had created. A warmth settled in his chest. He liked that their mate was like them. A hacker. He liked it more that she used her skills to help those in need. But her apartment, while not high-end, didn’t come cheap, and righteous crusades didn’t pay well. That had left her exposed to people like Cordelia.
Melinda’s screen saver popped up. Time to get to work.
Chapter Thirteen
It took Melinda a moment to recognize where she was. On a private jet, bound for San Francisco. With two drop-dead gorgeous twins. One of whose bare chest she still had her face smooshed up against. Another moment to collect herself and remember what had happened, what she’d done—whatthey’ddone,all three of them—before she’d fallen asleep.
Oh hell. She’d pleaded for it. For sex. On her hands and knees, let Louis take her from behind, as she took Pierre…
She clamped her thighs at the memory.
“You’re awake,chouquette.”
She raised her head to a blur of dark hair and white teeth. “Louis? Pierre?”
She scrambled around, searching for her glasses. With gentle hands, he slid them on her face. Hazel eyes and a cheeky grin greeted her. Louis. Despite his smile, there was something mournful in his eyes, a dance of dark shadows within his irises. It made her long to reach out and touch him, comfort him. Stupid idea.
She pushed at his chest and he released her, and she rolled away from him, dragging the sheet with her to hide her nakedness. He let her take it without comment, but it left him lying there in all his bare glory. Heat rose up her neck and face. She should have kept her glasses off.
Melinda turned her back on Louis, snatched her clothes from the floor, left Louis sprawled on the bed and shut herself in the cramped toilet cubicle. Flipping the toilet lid down, she sat, herhead in hands, letting her clothes fall to the floor. Through the gap in her fingers, she spied her ruined knickers. She held them up. The waistband was torn in two places. Useless, except to remind her that in a moment of weakness, she’d sought comfort in their arms. They’d been happy to oblige. Two men in her bed.At the same time.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and wished she hadn’t. Staring back at her were her mother’s eyes. It reminded her of why she was here. Of the woman—the eighty-something-year-old woman—whose life was in danger. And while she couldn’t do a lot from forty-five-thousand feet in the air, she couldn’t afford to waste time dwelling on what was a one-time thing. The twins wouldn’t make a big deal of it. She suspected they’d been here before. Why should she react any differently?
Avoiding the mirror, she dressed minus her knickers, washed her face and combed her fingers through her hair. When she stepped out of the cubicle and into the main cabin, bright daylight streamed through the jet’s windows. She’d been too tired, too emotionally drained to take it all in last night, but now, in the clear light of the morning, what she’d begun to suspect was abundantly clear. Wolf Enterprises, the twins, had money. Serious money.
This wasn’t your standard private jet. This was top of the line, no expense spared luxury. From the leather armchairs to the black-accented paneling. The plush carpet beneath her shoes and the galley with crystal glassware and bottles of top-end liquor. That it had a private bedroom suite should have clued her in.
There was no sign of Louis, but Pierre sat at the front of the plane with his back to her, tapping away on a laptop. She ignored the little flutter in her stomach at the sight of his bare torso.
“Morning, Melinda.”
He didn’t lift his head from his work, and it gave her a brief reprieve. A moment to get her wayward libido under control.
“Morning,” she said, walking down the aisle toward him.
He looked up, concern in his eyes. “Did you sleep all right,chouquette?”
There was that word again. “Chouquette?”
“Mm. Louis’ choice.” A bemused smile played across his lips. “It is more common to saymon chou,but—”
“Chouquettesare my favorite pastry,” said Louis, striding out of the bedroom, black jeans slung low on his hips, his chest bare. “Small, but sweet and oh, so tasty. Like you.”
Melinda ducked her head. In the bright light of day, one half naked man was enough. Two, almost more than she could bear. It made her long for a repeat of last night.
Louis held out her overnight bag. “I thought you might like a fresh change of clothes.” He smirked. “And a new pair of panties.”
