In The Cover of Night Page 2

  The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.

  Cyr picked up on the second ring. “Yeah.”

  “Are you missing someone?” Beau’s voice vibrated on the other end of the line. The truce he had with the wolf remained tenuous. Lines had been drawn to keep the peace. For the Alpha to call couldn’t mean anything good.

  “What do you mean, am I missing someone?”

  “Red never made it to Grandma’s house. She ended up in my yard and stands in my office, waiting to be rescued. “

  Great. Not only did his protégé get lost, but she was with Beau Leabauds. Nothing good could come of that.

  “Yeah, I’ve decided to mentor again.”

  “Shame, I was hoping you weren’t going to say that. She’s quite the piece, this westerner. It’s a sad day. Truly. Aren’t your males in season?”

  “I’ll handle my boys. You just worry about your own shit. I’ll send Alaric for her.” Cyr hung up the phone and cast his eyes to Alaric.

  “You get all that?”

  “Yeah, your student ended up on Beau’s property. I’ll go and fetch her. Be back.”

  Cyr didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his drink and tossed it back. On steady legs, he stood, making his way over to the kitchen where some of the crew prepped for the breakfast rush.

  “Listen up,” he yelled.

  Everyone stopped and gave him their attention.

  “I have a student I’m mentoring. I get that you guys—and most of you women—are in season. Let’s keep the play to a minimum. She’ll be staying here for three months. You all know the rules. Keep to the shadows, and keep your cool. No funny business.”

  “You got it, boss. No foul play here,” Toby, one of his cooks said.

  “Can I at least buy her a drink if she’s hot? Lick between her legs?” a prep chef asked. A waitress launched a pan at him.

  “You’re such a pig.”

  To that, the prep chef squealed. “I only plan to pork you, baby.”

  That had the kitchen laughing.

  “All right, enough playing around. Get ready for the breakfast rush.”

  Talking to the staff always lightened the mood, but as Cyr walked down the hall past his office and out the back door, he looked to his right and caught a glimpse of seashore mallows. His thoughts immediately went to his dead wife and son. She’d loved the damn weeds, would sit at the edge of the restaurant’s property and sing to them. I miss you every day, Una.

  Today was going to be one of the longest days. Irritation and anger fueled his battered mind and although unwarranted, his mood continued to fester at her tardiness. Cyr had decided to mentor said late student the same week he planned to drain a countless number of bourbon bottles to forget his loss—and drown out his pain. But the girl had been persistent, to the point of annoying. The sooner he trained her, the sooner he could get back to the bottom of his bottle.

  3

  FRESHLY SHOWERED, ONESSA waited for her ride. Although still bruised, she felt a hundred percent better and ready to start her mentorship. Chef Ravenueax sent someone to pick her up. Beau and the two creepers, Ed and Eddy, were polite enough as she’d quickly showered in a guest bathroom. Opting to dress comfortably, she tossed on a Dodger shirt and sweatpants. The only normal thing Ed and Eddy did was to retrieve her suitcase. Humidity mixed in with the intense morning sun made her sweat, but it fared much better than her jeans and tank top. You shouldn’t have to dress down for the idiots. She shouldn’t have to wear something she could easily move in, but being alone in a place where a man had pet wolves walking his property screamed danger. She wasn’t sure Beau and the rest of them were playing with a full deck either. Better to not drawn their attention. They’d all given her a look that said they wanted to get fresh with her. Nope not happening. Her parents raised her better than that. She wasn’t one to flaunt what she had to get what she wanted, and with Beau and his men it was a definite no-no. Her muddy clothes were stashed in a trash bag, and with her soggy purse in hand and her retrieved luggage by her side, she sat and waited for her ride.

  “You ever want to pop by for a visit, chèr, you do that. You’re always welcome here,” Beau said, rubbing his meaty hand against her back in soft, slow circles. He wasn’t bad to look at, but he gave off a slimy feel. With his big-ass smile and his teeth on display, Onessa got the feeling he wanted to eat her. She felt like a juicy steak who walked into a den of wolves, waiting to tear her into tiny pieces. Before she had time to acknowledge the awkwardness, a black SUV pulled up.

  “You the one supposed to be working with Cyr?” The driver called out.

  Onessa cleared her throat and stepped closer to the vehicle. Shielding the glare of the morning sun from her eyes, she said, “Cyr? Who’s that?”

  The male in the vehicle donned pair of aviator glasses and a LSU ball cap on his head. “Cyriaque Ravenueax, everyone calls him Cyr.”

  Now she got it. Clever. Cyrius Eats. The name of Chef Ravenueax’s restaurant. A play on his name.

  “Yes,” she rushed on to say. “I’m Onessa. Onessa Sol.”

  “I’m Alaric. Hop in. Boss is pretty pissed you’re late, but seeing as how you got lost, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  She sure hoped so. She’d had to fuss and fight for her mentorship. She’d all but bullied the man, and explained that only studying under the best would ensure her success as a chef. Cyriaque Ravenueax was the best. He’d always been elusive. Refusing to be in front of the cameras or available to the media. But he did take on mentees. That was until he suddenly stopped five years ago.

  The ride over to Cyrius Eats didn’t take long. As she sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she took in the sights she’d not been able to see under cover of darkness. It was still early, and as the car drove towards the destination, Onessa watched as life in the bayou crawled at a slow pace. Mist clung to the surface of the dark, murky water. A blanket of white hovered over the still depths. Darkened tree trunks rooted to the bottom of the swamp reached as high as their rotting limbs would allow as moss hung on for dear life. Her pulse sped up as she noticed something slicing its way just beneath the surface, displacing the white curtain floating just above. When two eyes appeared, she held in her grasp and turned to face front. The road was empty as they drove along in silence. She’d been going in the right direction, and if it hadn’t been for the wolves, she’d have made it. She’d start by apologizing for her tardiness and tell him she was ready to learn. When they pulled up to the restaurant, Alaric jumped out of the car and opened her door.

  “Go in through the door, and head back through the kitchen. The office is the second door on your right. I’ll grab your bags.”

  Onessa followed his instructions. When she reached the office, the door was open. There was someone already there. Someone obviously male. His back faced her, and the distinct smell of hard liquor scented the air. When he turned around, her breath left her. She’d been expecting a Gerard Depardieu-looking kind of mentor. Not the Incredible Hunk. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, if not taller. Broad shoulders were encased in a tight, black, button-up rolled at the arms, the cotton showcasing thick cords of muscle and sinew. He also sported spectacular ink, both arms fully sleeved. Thick, lustrous, and wavy chestnut hair with strands of gold and auburn hung past his shoulders. His face was outlined by scruff, complete with sexy, full lips. But it was his eyes that set her panties on fire, the flames quickly doused by the wetness between her legs. The orbs were gray, but in the middle, a luminous teal shone through. Holy hotcakes! His deep tan made his eyes pop more. Same color as the eyes of the panther on my tattoo. He was gorgeous. Inwardly groaning, Onessa cringed. She would not hook up with her mentor. He was off limits. Even if he weren’t, she was only here for three months to learn from him, and that was it. He could teach you so much more, the naughty voice in her head said. But she wasn’t going to get into all of that.

  “Hello, Mr. Ravenueax, I’m sorry I’m late. I got lost and had a bit of an acc
ident.”

  “I was told,” he grumbled.

  Ornery much?

  He was grumpy, and she could tell by the set of his jaw and the way his eyes regarded her, he was pissed. Why? She didn’t know. Kill him with kindness. Smiling, Onessa walked up to him to shake his hand. He didn’t reciprocate; instead, he watched her hand as if it were an entity in and of itself and sneered. “Alaric will show you to your room. Be ready to work early tomorrow morning. Pastries up first. We’ll get your rental car sorted out, too.”

  With those parting words, he left, leaving a cloud of fresh man scent mixed with alcohol, arrogance, and assholitis. What a giant dick. And...she wasn’t going to touch that last thought.

  “Follow me,” Alaric said.

  Onessa turned and followed him out of the office.

  “Caught that shit show, did you?”

  Alaric shrugged.

  “This is a bad week for him. Give him time. He’ll warm up.”

  “I doubt it. He acted like I was diseased.”

  To that, Alaric grinned. “Nah, you just smell like Beau. There’s a distinct odor that wafts off him. It’s unpleasant. But you should be back to smelling like your normal self by morning.”

  Smell? Odor?

  Alaric took her to a large house that was walking distance from the restaurant. It sat back from the main street and was a traditional two-story plantation home, complete with second-story balcony, and huge weeping willow trees that dotted the land, making it welcoming. Along the circular drive were bushes that outlined the path.

  Onessa gasped, shocked by the beauty of the place. “This is beautiful.”

  “You think so? You should see the grounds out back that butt up against the lake. It’s something to marvel at. This house has been in Cyr’s family for more than three generations, and his great-grandmother had Japanese cherry blossoms planted out back. The property sits on more than two-hundred acres. There are cabins and housing for family and such.”

  “Wow.”

  “This way.”

  Alaric walked her up to the main house. The huge double doors had sidelight windows that were clean, throwing Onessa’s reflection back at her. The inside of the home was just as amazing as the outside. Two large, polished black panthers guarded the entryway.

  “Wow, those are gorgeous.”

  “You like cats, do you?”

  “Yeah, and cherry blossoms. My mother’s family is from Kyoto, and both the blossoms and the panther are symbols of my home. The animals are said to be guardians, protecting families from evil, and the cherry blossom represents the cycle of life and death. Sakura.”

  “Interesting, I’ve not heard of Sakura.”

  “Well, mysticism runs deep in Japanese culture.”

  “Wouldn’t have pegged you for Asian. But I guess I can see it there in the slant of your eyes. Speaking of which, I’m sure you get stared at a lot, but your eyes are badass,” Alaric voiced.

  Sectoral heterochromia wasn’t that unusual, but a lot of people didn’t realize that. Her left eye was blue with an amber-orange starburst in the middle. Her right eye was amber with a blue ring around it. Doctors thought that was strange at first—that she had the anomaly in both eyes. It usually only affected one.

  “Thanks, I have sectoral heterochromia but in both eyes. My mother is Japanese, and my father is from the States, he was a SEAL, did a tour in Japan and fell in love. And, voila, I showed up nine months later.”

  Stop talking.

  “Shit, sorry, I tend to babble when I’m nervous.”

  Alaric grinned.

  “No problem, Nessa. But your eyes are badass, just saying.”

  She laughed.

  “Thanks. My Obasan calls me Nessa. I mean, my grandmother.”

  “No worries. I always shorten everyone’s name. Cyriaque, I call Cyr, but then so does everyone else. You have your own bathroom in this room. It overlooks the garden. You’ll get a full view of the blossoms. Feel free to walk around the grounds, but during the day only. At night, there’s a good chance you could find yourself cornered by a gator or worse.”

  “Got it, daytime good. Night bad.”

  “Perfect.”

  Alaric left her to get her things situated. First thing in the morning, she would wow Cyr with her cooking skills. Maybe then he wouldn’t be such an ass to her.

  4

  HE’D WARNED HIS STAFF to stay away from Onessa. But he was the one in fucking trouble. Shit. She was his mate. How the fuck was he going to explain that to his mother-in-law? And why did fate give him another chance? He didn’t deserve it. Una would be laughing at his situation if she were with him. No. He wouldn’t get mixed up with the female. He’d had his chance and failed. He hadn’t been there for his wife and unborn child when they needed him. He’d been too busy working at the restaurant. Pleasing patrons and taking on new students. Not to mention his quest to find the next great meal. Three months. He just needed to get through the next three months and keep his hands and paws to himself.

  Good luck with that.

  It was his dick talking. That didn’t come from him. No fucking way. Cyr couldn’t sleep, he’d tossed and turned most of the night, and when a run hadn’t helped calm his nerves, he’d turned stalker. He’d avoided her all day, but at night, running water meant shower, and fuck him, she was singing—and beautifully. Her voice called not only to him, but also to his inner cat. And what did he do then? He turned into a peeping Tom. He may have been in his cat form, but nonetheless, he knew exactly what he was doing. He found himself lounging on one of the larger tree limbs, watching her from the cover of darkness. The steam suffusing the windows blocked his view, but her voice travelled, and settled in the pit of his gut. Besides, he didn’t need to see her; her image was forever burned into his retinas.

  He’d never seen a woman with eyes like hers. Blue with amber and then amber with blue. Extraordinary is what she was. Her black hair, a thick, shiny mass of curls, and her body...curved in all the right places. She’d given him the fuck-me eyes, as well. It wasn’t all one-sided, but he wasn’t about to enter into any kind of negotiations, sexual or otherwise. She was his student. That was it.

  Her words were hauntingly beautiful, like a siren’s. She soothed his inner cat, and he found himself drifting off to sleep in the tree. Hours later, he awoke, feeling pissier than ever. She was not his mate. He was simply mourning, seeking the comfort of a beautiful woman.

  Cyr walked into the house, but not before Alaric stopped him.

  “Long night?”

  “You could say that.”

  “She’s into cats.”

  That got his attention. She was human.

  “How does she know?”

  “She doesn’t, but she’s half Japanese. To her people, black cats are guardians. Plus, the cherry blossoms in the back represent the cycle of life and death. I think it’s a sign, man,” Alaric offered.

  “A sign for what?”

  “To get back on the fucking horse. It’s been long enough, Cyr. I’m your friend, and I loved my sister just as much as you did. I mourn her loss and the loss of my nephew every day, but fate is offering you a second chance at happiness.”

  What the fuck did Alaric know? Nothing.

  “You fuck her then.”

  Alaric grinned before saying. “If she were my destined mate, I would have no problem pawing that, but she’s not for me, friend. She’s yours.”

  “Leave it alone, Alaric. I’m not going there.”

  “Your loss, man. You want to be alone for the rest of your life and be a grumpy ass. So be it.”

  “You’re with her in the kitchen this morning. I didn’t sleep well, I’ll stop in around lunch to check on the two of you.”

  “Ignore it all you want. But when destiny hands you a second chance, you don’t want to disregard it.”

  It wasn’t destiny or fate. It was bad fucking timing—and it always would be.

  5

  ONESSA WOKE UP WITH renewed energy. She was
ready to take on the day. Last night, she’d slept good. After she’d gotten out of the shower, she could have sworn a large panther was lounging outside her window. But she attributed the strange visions to her just being tired. She’d dreamt of lounging on the same limb with the cat’s large head resting in her lap as she stroked its thick fur and it purred in satisfaction. The cat’s eyes were the same color as Cyriaque’s, only more teal than gray. Just like the eyes of the cat on my back. She’d specifically chosen her tattoo based on a recurring dream. A dream she still had. It was always the same, she would be reading, and the cat would get jealous and climb the cherry tree until he rested his head on her lap, effectively gaining her attention.

  There was a knock at her door. The sun had barely started to rise, but Onessa wasn’t going to miss watching the sky light up. She desired to be out in the beautiful garden, she wanted to watch the sun set fire to the cherry blossoms. They were in full bloom, and her grandmother always said it was good luck to see the sun kiss the petals. It meant she was in for new beginnings. Her situation fit the bill. In less than an hour, she’d be in the kitchen with the Cyriaque Ravenueax. That alone would make her entire summer.

  She’d be cooking with a superstar. His food was legendary, people came from all over the world to eat at Cyrius Eats, and she was going to be under him for three months. A vision of her under him in a different way stole her attention, but the image was interrupted when the knock at the door came again.

  “One second.”

  Alaric stood on the other side of the door.

  “You have me today, Cyr isn’t feeling too well. He didn’t get enough sleep.”

  Onessa didn’t mean to show her disappointment, but she couldn’t help it. She’d come here to work with him. Not Alaric. Her shoulders slumped, and if she thought it wouldn’t make her look like a total tool, she’d have slammed the door in his face.