Play of Passion (Page 72)

By the time the session was over, more than one student was close to crawling, yet Indigo’s own energy level remained high, her senses on alert for any hint of Drew’s presence. But he didn’t come to her. Which, she thought, ignoring the growling of her wolf, was exactly right. Maybe the rose had been nothing but a good-bye.

A chill slithered through her veins, and when she wrenched open her locker again, she was well on the way to hating roses. Stupid, she thought, she was being stupid, acting like one of those ninnies who didn’t know her own mind. The decision was made. End of stor—

Blooms tumbled out all over her. Soft and fragrant and exquisite.

“What the—” Staring, startled, she realized her locker was stuffed to the brim with roses.

Red, red roses.

Behind her, Sing-Liu whistled as she closed up her own locker. “Now that’s what I call an apology. Man’s got style.”

“You can have them.” Indigo scowled, scooping out the roses and putting them on the bench between the lockers. “Here.”

Sing-Liu took one perfect bloom and stuck it behind her ear, the color shockingly bright against the shimmering jet of her hair. “Hey, come on,” the soldier said with a small smile, “I know he was an ass, but he should get some credit for creativity. Most men just snarl and growl and try to sex their lovers into a good mood.” A sensual smile. “Not that I mind being sexed until my toes curl. You should try it.”

Indigo snarled at the soldier. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I guess I do.” Lips still curved in that provocative smile, the small, lean human woman who was more lethal than a large number of the wolves in the den, disappeared around the corner.

Locker cleared, Indigo shut the door and turned to leave.

Her feet hesitated.

She stared at the dark red spill of roses, felt the vulnerable heart of her soften. But she built fences around that softening as soon as it occurred. If she accepted this apology, if she allowed their relationship to progress again, then what she’d said would come to pass. Drew would attempt to dominate her wolf in unacceptable ways again, would force her to the point where her wolf would strike out. Over and over and over again.

Such a relationship would destroy them both, until the love that bound them was twisted and broken. Adria and Martin almost hated each other now. Not enough to separate, but any remaining love was tainted and pitted. Indigo didn’t know why they continued to stay together—they never laughed with each other, and there was so much dead air between them that Indigo’s wolf was hurt by the piercing silence.

She wouldn’t allow that to happen to her and Drew.

Her hand reached out, touched the petals of a rose. Snapping it back before the velvety softness could seduce her into dropping her guard, she stalked down the corridor. No one stopped her, though there were a few interested glances thrown her way. In no mood to gossip, she slammed into her room . . . and came to a complete halt.

The damn wolf had drowned the room in silver-foiled chocolate kisses.

Thousands of them.

She growled.

And then she opened the closet door.

The treats started showing up the next day. A bowl of decadent champagne-soaked berries on the desk of her small office, passion fruit cheesecake with white chocolate swirls mysteriously in her fridge, crystallized fruit in the pocket of her jacket. And always, always kisses. Chocolate kisses. Everywhere she turned.

By contrast, she never saw Drew, though she caught his scent every place she went. His shadowy presence served to ratchet up her frustration, even as it fed her ever-growing hunger for him. She’d thought distance would lessen the need. Instead, it only seemed to be making it stronger—until the ache was a constant pulse in her body, and she was starting to look for those damn chocolate kisses.

“I swear,” she muttered under her breath as another packmate grinned at her as she strode to a meeting with Hawke, “I’m going to wring his neck.” Because the demon had gotten the pack on his side now.

“He just lost his temper, Indigo,” Yuki had said to her a couple of nights ago. “Can happen to anyone.”

“If you don’t give him a chance,” Jem had offered, all the way from Los Angeles—knowing everything, thanks to the pack rumor mill—“how will he ever learn?”

“Mi amigo is hurting,” Tomás had said not much later, all long face and soulful dark eyes that she didn’t trust an inch. “How can you be so cruel to someone who adores you so much?”

“Cut him a break,” Lara had said only yesterday. “He looks so depressed it’s breaking my heart.”

“Depressed, my foot,” Indigo muttered. She knew him far too well. He was using that charm of his to fool everyo—“Damn.” Realizing she’d forgotten the little notepad on which she’d jotted down a few things she needed to discuss with Hawke, she turned on her heel and headed back to her room.

The grins should’ve warned her, but she just figured on another rose. And maybe her heart skipped a beat at the thought, but she was determined not to give in to this relentless pursuit. Andrew Liam Kincaid was not going to wear her down.

Then she came within sight of her door. And froze.

It was a soft toy. A wolf, to be precise. A wolf with lush silver fur and blue, blue eyes. It was carrying an envelope in its mouth.

Glancing around the suspiciously empty corridor—hah!—her packmates were likely stacked up five deep around the corner—she stared down at the furry thing. She should ignore it.

Opening her door, she walked inside and picked up the notepad, sticking it in a pocket. But as she went to walk back out, the wolf looked so adorably sweet that she couldn’t leave it abandoned in the corridor. Growling, she picked up the toy and brought it inside, shutting the door behind her.