Free Ecstasy Untamed by Pamela Palmer

well-furnished, if unadorned, bedchamber six times larger and a thousand times nicer than anywhere she’d lived in the past sixty or seventy years even if it was half the size of Kara’s.
    Maxim closed the door behind him, threw the dead bolt, then walked across the room to the window.
    “Hawke wants you.” The words were emotionless, a simple statement of fact.
    “He was just being friendly.” But she knew better, she knew that the attraction between them was real. She felt it every time he came near her. And his eyes told her he felt it, too.
    “He’s not getting you. You’re mine.”
    Faith stared at the back of his head, wanting to argue that it was her decision, not his. Not Hawke’s. But the pull of the slowly knitting mating bond between her and Maxim said otherwise.
    Maxim sighed and turned around, regret in his eyes. “I behaved badly, I’m afraid. The way he was looking at you . . .” He shook his head. “I wanted to hurt him. I hurt you instead.” He shrugged. “It was a foolish way to act. You’re a beautiful woman. They will look.” When he smiled, his expression turned almost charming. “Forgive me? I am not myself. Once I come into my animal, I will be the mate you deserve, Faith. I vow it.”
    Faith watched him, her instincts jumbled and confused. “I’ve spent a lifetime rescuing girls from men who would use them and abuse them. I won’t be one of them.”
    His mouth thinned, then relaxed. Slowly he nodded. “Fair enough.” But there was something about the rigidness of his shoulders and the way his right hand clenched and unclenched that told her this argument was far from over.
    She was perplexed at fate’s having chosen her for this man. They were so different. He was an aristocrat, and she hung with the street kids. If she were a gambler, she’d wager they’d never make it as a couple, regardless what fate decreed. She’d wager that in six weeks, she’d be back in Warsaw trying to coax Paulina into trusting her again. Back to living alone, sleeping alone, with Feral House and her warriors nothing but a bittersweet memory.
    “W ondered where you were.”
    Hawke looked up from his plate as Wulfe sauntered into the dining room, then returned to the thick, savory slices of roast beef Pink had brought out to him a short while before.
    Wulfe sat down beside him and poured himself a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table. “You missed a fun time at dinner.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s like he thinks he’s the new general sent to lead the troops. He’s pissing me off.”
    “Join the club.” At least his brothers felt the same. This would be so much worse if Maxim were genuinely a nice guy whom everyone else liked.
    Hawke glanced at Wulfe. “Faith?”
    Wulfe looked at him for a long moment, sympathy slowly deepening his gaze. “You’re smitten with her,” he said quietly. “I saw the way you were watching her during the reception.”
    Hawke turned away, digging his fork into another bite of meat. “No one uses the word smitten anymore.”
    “Doesn’t change the fact.”
    Hell. “I don’t know what I am. Yeah, actually I do. I’m a fucked-up mess.”
    Wulfe’s dinner-plate-sized hand landed lightly on Hawke’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wings. You’re too good a guy to be dealing with so much shit. If I could take some of it off your shoulders, I would.”
    Hawke met his friend’s gaze and nodded. “I know.”
    Lyon and Kara walked into the room a moment later. “There you are,” Kara said quietly.
    Hawke grunted. “The moment I don’t show up, everyone assumes I’ve flown the coop.”
    “I had a feeling you’d decided to avoid another confrontation.” Lyon held out a chair for Kara, then seated himself. “That was a wise move.”
    Hawke nodded and took another bite. Hell, wisdom had nothing to do with it. He still couldn’t shake the sight of that stunned look on Faith’s face when he’d gone feral. Or the crazed jealousy that