Читать книгу Awakening The Shifter - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Chapter 2

Sarange didn’t know what she was feeling. So many emotions were competing for dominance inside her she couldn’t begin to single out or categorize any individual one. Generally, her temperament was even. She didn’t have mood swings. Yet after one brief encounter with Khan, her senses were swaying like a barometer needle in changing weather.

It was a relief to reach her dressing room without encountering anyone who wanted to talk to her. As the concert had approached, the demands on her time had increased. In the past few weeks, she had barely had a minute to call her own. Tonight had been a whirlwind of questions, requests and suggestions, all of which appeared to require her personal intervention.

Sarange had endless patience. It was part of her makeup. Her birth parents, whoever they were, must have bequeathed it to her with their genes. But right now she didn’t want to cope with someone else’s problems. Even for the sake of Animals Alive, the organization that had been her life’s work for so long. The thought caused her a pang of guilt, and she managed to quell it. Just for once, she was going to put duty aside. She was going to spend a little time alone analyzing what had just happened to her.

How had she managed to let the most arrogant, infuriating man she had ever met get to her? And by “get to me” I mean turn me on so much I almost burst into flames. Just the thought of how Khan made her feel had her breath catching in her throat and a renewed thrill of desire pulsing through her body.

What is wrong with me? She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, releasing a long sigh. Despite his devastating looks, Khan was not her type. She didn’t like overtly dominant men. Sarange had no desire to settle down. Now and then, she speculated about the reason. Did she have abandonment issues linked to her strange past? By ensuring she was the stronger partner in any relationship, was she making sure she couldn’t be hurt? Although it made a strange kind of sense, she didn’t feel it was a valid explanation for her choices. Perhaps she was just cold-hearted? It wasn’t something that affected her strongly enough to probe deeply.

Now she thought about it, her brief relationships had all been with men who conformed to a certain category. Undemanding was the first word that came to mind. Did she deliberately choose partners who wouldn’t challenge her? It wasn’t a question she had considered until now, and she didn’t like it. Didn’t want to start psychoanalyzing herself just because Khan had strutted onto her horizon. So what if, up to now, I’ve chosen sweet, considerate guys? The sort any woman would have no problem taking home to meet Mom and Dad?

Not that Sarange had a mom and dad. She had an uncle and aunt who did the same job. She tried to picture taking Khan home to meet Bek and Gerel Tsedev. The thought made her choke back a laugh. It was never going to happen, but the image was amusing.

It wasn’t just his arrogance that triggered a warning about Khan. It was the way he stripped away her control, and did it with such relish. Wolf girl. That was what he had called her. What had he meant by it? One thing was for sure, it wasn’t a compliment. The tone of his voice had been scathing, while the look in his eyes had scalded her. She assumed he meant she liked to be in charge. He had judged her on first impressions, likening her to the leader of a pack. It was a curious analogy, but their encounter had hardly been conventional. If she hadn’t walked out when she did, heaven alone knew what would have happened next. She had a feeling it would have led to passion beyond her wildest imagination followed by a world of regret.

Hadn’t she been equally guilty of basing her opinion of Khan on sensational reporting and the antagonistic, thrilling clash from which she had just walked away? She pushed herself off from the door and made her way to the refrigerator. Snagging a bottle of water, she drained half its contents in a few quick gulps.

This violent attraction she felt toward Khan, this uncertainty and angst about her feelings, the burning restlessness that made her want to turn right back around and finish what they’d started...it was all new to her. New and frightening. She didn’t like feeling this way. Sarange’s life was neat and tidy. She liked it best when everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing and no one deviated from the script. This felt wild and unrehearsed. Khan had thrown her so far out of her routine she couldn’t see a way back. And the scary thing was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Her whole body was still trembling with a combination of excitement and outrage. Curiously, she felt as though the electricity coursing through her veins was there to stay. How could that be so? The answer was simple. It couldn’t. Put a little distance between her and Khan and she could forget him, get back to normal. It wasn’t as if he could have any sort of lasting effect on her life. Was it?

A knock on the door startled her into spilling water down the front of her dress. Instantly, she wondered if it was Khan, and her feelings went to war over the possibility. Excitement trilled through her at the thought of opening the door and seeing him again. At the same time, anger flooded through her. There could be only one reason why he would follow her. He must be confident she would fall into his arms again.

And won’t you? She hated this. Hated the way her body was pulling her in two different directions. Because she had no idea what she would do if she opened that door and Khan was standing on the other side of it. There was a strong possibility she would launch herself at him, but whether the outcome was a kiss or a punch remained to be seen.

With a hand that shook slightly, she turned the handle and opened the door. Her initial reaction told her everything she needed to know about her feelings. The man who stood there was most definitely not Khan. Shorter, slighter, with dark hair and sharp features, his smile oozing charm. It wasn’t his fault Sarange wanted to slam the door in his face because he wasn’t the person she longed to see. Her heart gave an uncomfortable downward lurch. She had a wretched feeling it was a signal. A warning that no one else would ever be good enough. From now on, the only person she would open a door to with a willing smile would be Khan.

This was straying into the realms of the absurd. This man, whoever he was, had begun to regard her with a slightly bemused expression. “Your manager said this would be okay. I’m Gurban Radin, owner of Real Planet Productions. We spoke on the phone last week.”

Forcing herself to concentrate, she dredged up a memory of the conversation. “Of course.” She held out her hand and he shook it enthusiastically. “Come in, Mr. Radin.”

“Just Radin, please.” He stepped into the dressing room. “I wanted to stop by and congratulate you on the success of tonight’s concert. After what I’ve just seen, I’m even more keen for us to work together on the project we discussed.”

Sarange nodded. “I’m looking forward to making the documentary with your company. Obviously, returning to my home country of Mongolia will be exciting for me. Even more important than that will be the focus on the plight of the blue wolves. They are one of the most endangered species on the planet.”

Radin paced the small room excitedly. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it...if you’ve had time to check yet?” He held up his cell phone. “But the response to your duet with Khan has been phenomenal. Social media is going wild. The electricity between the two of you was incredible.”

“We are performers. That’s what we do.” Sarange hoped her voice didn’t sound too cold, but at the same time, she wanted to dampen some of his enthusiasm. And maybe some of her own. She also had no idea what her performance with Khan had to do with the wildlife documentary she was supposed to be making.

“Exactly.” Radin’s eyes shone with zealous light. “We need to use that, and also capitalize on the public enthusiasm.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Sarange had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“By getting Khan to make the blue wolf documentary with you.”

* * *

Being a rock star meant living on his nerves. The life was high-energy, high-profile and high-stress. Khan was permanently in the public eye and on someone else’s agenda. He had known how it would be when Ged helped him escape from captivity. This was the life Ged had offered him, and he had embraced it with gratitude. Khan was good at it—the best—but it didn’t always suit his big-cat temperament. His inner tiger craved solitude and supremacy. Juggling the two sides of his persona wasn’t easy, and he had been looking forward to this time after Beast’s tour as a chance to unwind before they started work on their new album. It hadn’t happened.

It had been weeks since the Animals Alive concert, and the intervening time had taken the madness of his fame to a whole new level. The entire concert had fired the public imagination, but his duet with Sarange had been the highlight. The chemistry between them had been tangible to those watching. Rumors of a romance between the bad boy of rock and the world’s most glamorous singer had persisted ever since. They couldn’t look at each other that way and not be in love; that was the argument that pervaded every website, magazine and TV program.

Always the subject of paparazzi attention—the press was desperate to catch him out in bad behavior...and they often succeeded—Khan had been unable to move out of his New York apartment. Ged had advised him to lie low.

“Something else will come up in a day or two to attract their attention, and this will all be forgotten.”

It hadn’t happened. Kha-range—Khan wanted to put his foot through the TV screen the first time he heard that celebrity fusion name—had become a media obsession. Hotels and restaurants, keen to boost business, fanned the flames by hinting at sightings and bookings. Engagements, weddings, a secret baby, breakups...the whole range of stories had hit the headlines in the last few weeks.

And the job offers had rolled in. The moneymen, seeing the opportunities in a collaboration between Khan and Sarange, had come up with an eye-watering range of ideas. Films, TV specials, a record deal, interviews, photo shoots, advertising, even a book.

Khan had lost count of the number of times he had said no. Today was different. Today he would get to say the word to Sarange herself.

“No.” He tilted his chair back so he could rest his shoulders against the wall. At the same time, he placed his feet on the glossy glass surface of the meeting table. The gesture was calculated to annoy Sarange. From the way her light blue gaze grew even icier as it dropped to his scuffed biker boots, he guessed he’d succeeded.

“I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the concept.” Gurban Radin, the guy who was in charge of the production company, leaned forward earnestly, resting his clasped hands on the table. “What we’re proposing is unlike anything that’s ever been done before. Two major stars being filmed as they travel together to a remote region of Mongolia to see the blue wolves in their natural habitat—”

“What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand?” Khan had no problem being rude to this guy. He hadn’t asked for this meeting. He’d started out polite, but now they were taking up his valuable rehearsal time, and they still weren’t listening to him.

“The Animals Alive Foundation would benefit from your contribution.” Ged’s eyes held a play-nice warning. Khan saw that look on his manager’s face on a regular basis. Sometimes he felt a pang of pity for Ged. He worked so hard to keep Khan, his most famous client, out of trouble. He didn’t always succeed.

“I’ll write a check. Name your price.” Khan yawned. “The answer is still no.”

He could see Sarange fighting to keep her temper under control. He could read her emotions, even though he didn’t want to feel that connection to her. Part of the reason he had agreed to this meeting had been to test his resolve. The last few weeks had been torture. Every minute of every day, his body craved her. It wasn’t like going cold turkey on an addiction. It wasn’t getting easier as time went by. He didn’t have any periods when he didn’t hunger for his fix. If this was the rest of his life, he was screwed.

He really shouldn’t be here. Keeping away from her would have been the wisest move, but the rest of the world was conspiring against him. Even Ged was giving him some powerful reasons why he should consider this latest offer. In the end, Khan had taken a break from precious rehearsal time so he could look at Sarange and see how she was coping with the whole fated-mates, enforced separation situation. He hoped she was doing better than he was. And he wondered if she’d gotten a handle on her inner wolf yet. Because that whole denial thing was seriously weird.

Now that he was up close to her, he could see she was suffering. His gaze lingered on her face, drinking her in. Today her hair was drawn back in a thick braid that hung to her waist and she wore a crisp white shirt. Her jeans were tucked into soft leather boots. Even in casual clothing she managed to look like a Mongolian princess. Her face was heart-shaped, with flat high cheekbones tapering to a pointed chin. A broad, arrogant nose and full mouth added to the regal look. The only giveaway to her werewolf heritage was her eyes. Set under thick, soaring dark brows, they were twin chips of blue ice. Khan could see pain and confusion in their depths. Unlike him, he could tell Sarange still had no idea why she was hurting.

Life could be hard, and Khan knew from experience that went double for shifters. He experienced a brief, dangerous pang of sympathy for Sarange. Someone should sit her down and explain how these things worked. Not him. No way was Khan going there. But he wanted to take away that lost, hurt look in her eyes and replace it with the cynicism she would need to develop if she was going to survive as a werewolf in the human world. Maybe Ged could talk to her. The guy who had dedicated his life to rescuing damaged shifters had the experience and the skill.

“Are we done here?” Khan placed his hands on the table, indicating he intended to leave. Because he couldn’t put his body under this strain for much longer. There was only so much torment he could endure. And fighting the need to drag Sarange into his arms was just about the worst torture he had known. Coming from Khan, a weretiger who had endured capture, imprisonment and near death, that was quite an admission.

“Wait.” Sarange’s voice was quiet, almost pleading. When she raised her eyes to his, it was as though there was no one else in the room. “Just hear me out. Please?”

In spite of the voice in his head urging him to get right away from her and do it fast, Khan sank back into his seat. There was a tiny flare of gratitude in her eyes. And, in that instant, he was lost. He understood how medieval knights of old felt when they performed heroic deeds to prove their worth. Climbing beanstalks, defeating dragons—although the only dragon he knew was Torque, and he was generally harmless—and breaking magic spells. She wasn’t going to ask him to do any of those things. But he knew she was going to test his resolve.

“After to the red wolves, the blue wolves of Mongolia are the most endangered in the world. This pack has been gradually decreasing over the years so that now there are fewer than a hundred left.” Her voice was low, passionate. It was obvious how much this cause meant to her. “I agreed to travel to the region to make a documentary to raise awareness of their plight. Now the production company—” her eyes flickered to Radin “—have said they will withdraw the funding...unless you and I make the film together.”

“Why would they do that?” Even as Khan asked the question, he knew the answer.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sarange gave a bitter little laugh. “They’ll draw a huge audience because of the recent public interest in us.” She said the word “us” the way Khan thought it. Within bitter quotation marks. “It all comes down to money.”

Radin spoke up quickly. “We will, of course, be making a substantial contribution to the Animals Alive Foundation.”

Sarange ignored him. “Even if this film gets made, it may be too late for the blue wolves. The prediction is that they will be extinct within five years. But if we can raise awareness, begin a breeding program...who knows? There may just be a chance we can save them.”

“Why not make the film yourself using Animals Alive Foundation funds?”

“We couldn’t allow that.” Radin’s voice was smooth. “My company owns the rights to the documentary. How it is made is our decision.”

The sensation of being trapped was beginning to prickle along Khan’s spine. They thought they had him. Conscience, publicity, environmentalism, guilt...they thought they’d pressed all the right buttons and gotten him where they wanted him. Even Ged, his friend Ged, was expecting him to agree.

Well, to hell with this. Swinging up from his seat, Khan stalked out of the room without saying another word.