“You need your meat,” I repeat dubiously. I mean, I’m not vegetarian either, but this planet is being destroyed by human’s meat production. Do we really need meat with every meal? But whatever, he’s the boss.
Oh, God.
Rafe Lightfoot is now my boss.
What was I thinking?
Rafe
I follow Adele out of my office, admiring her slender form in her fitted dress. She moves with a feline-like grace. Actually she’s very cat-like, this female, which is probably why the two of us don’t mix well.
My wolf wants to dominate, and she’s ready to scratch my nose.
The truth is, I like the idea of the beautiful spitfire Adele Fabre working for me far too much. The feisty foodie is the farthest thing from my type of female. Not that I have a type. Or time for females. And civilians—aka, humans—are supposed to be off-limits, according to my own rules.
But that rule obviously didn’t stick with Deke or my young brother, who both just mated humans—friends of Adele.
After what happened with her business partner and her shop last month, I’ve been concerned about her. The murder of her partner hasn’t been resolved by the police, but it seems obvious it was a drug cartel Bing had mixed himself up in. Now that he’s dead, Adele should be safe, but I still don’t like it. I would like to tie up those loose ends for her.
I also saw the eviction notice posted on her door and the chains around the handles. I’ll bet that’s killing her, not that she’d ever let on.
The female is proud. Very proud. Which is why I didn’t offer her a loan or help. I basically manufactured the private chef job on the spot, trying to guess how much money she needed and how plausible I could make the position without her catching on. One thing I’m sure of—if she thought she was getting a hand-out, she’d flip me the bird and walk out in a heartbeat.
She marches through the Grille in front of me. The first thing I noticed about Adele—other than her gorgeous scent and her curves under her neat clothes—was that she’s a born leader. Among her friends, she takes charge, soothes feelings, acts like a mother hen. She does it so adroitly, they don’t even notice. But I do. Because it’s something I do naturally too, for my own pack. It's the alpha urge—to lead, to protect. To dominate everyone else.
That’s why two alphas in the same room is never a good idea. We’ll fight to figure out who’s in charge, and in the power struggle, people can get hurt. There are a few people I’ll follow—Colonel Johnson being one of them—but never a human.
Adele is human. She can’t win a fight with me, no matter how many times she tries.
As if sensing my presence behind her, she whirls, her hazel eyes flashing. “Are you following me?”
“You forgot your coat,” I say blandly, holding up the garment for her to step into it.
She extends her hand for it, and I tsk. A moment passes as our eyes lock in a power struggle.
Once again, I win. A blush splashes over her brown cheeks, but she turns and lets me help her into her coat. All manners, that’s me. Gotta pretend to be a polite human. The veneer of civilized behavior is the only thing keeping my wolf from scooping her up and carrying her back to my office, where I can strip her naked and bask in her scent.
Instead, I take my time straightening Adele’s collar and buttoning her coat for her. Her scent is at peak deliciousness, heated by her anger. It must be torture, taking orders from me.
It’s torture to stand in front of her and not be able to touch her soft skin. Her lashes are long and dark, fanning over her flushed cheeks. A brown curl has escaped her fancy updo. I brush it back, and she steps out of reach.
My wolf stirs, ready for the chase. Down boy.
“Thank you,” she bites out. Damn, she’s stunning when she’s mad.
“You’re welcome,” I say, as if I didn’t just force another display of my dominance over her. With a hand hovering at her back, I guide her through the restaurant. One of our bartender’s eyes snag on Adele’s passing form, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from leaping over the tables and bar to take him out. I settle for an alpha glare. The bartender catches my gaze and gulps, jerking his head down. Humans recognize a dominant predator, if only subconsciously.
I take a few quick strides to reach the door ahead of Adele and hold it open for her.
“What about you? You don’t have a coat,” she says as she steps past me.
“I like the cold.” Maybe the chill will give my dick the message.
I slow my steps and think of baseball but can only watch Adele dash down the steps in her brown boots, as if in a hurry to get away from me. Her irritation hovers around her in a steamy cloud of peppery scent. My dick is ready to punch out of my fatigues.
What have I done? I just hired Adele as a private chef. That means she’s going to be in my life, in my lodge, right in the heart of my territory. Her hands, preparing my food. Her scent getting fucking everywhere, driving me mad. And there’s nothing I can do because not only is she human—now she’s my employee.
Oh hell.
4
The Stranger
He wandered his vast fortress, admiring his endless treasures on display. A Vermeer painting. A priceless vase from the Ming Dynasty. An original copy of the Keats poem “Ode to a Grecian Urn”, nestled among a score of Grecian urns.
The castle was much grander than his former home, but he found himself missing his dwelling of old, where he’d stowed his treasure in haphazard piles and slept among the mountains of burnished gold. Like Ali Baba in the Cave of Wonders, only he was no thief among thieves. He was a king and honored as one.
He's always been solitary. Content in his ways, as long as he had treasures and an army at his beck and call. But now he found himself longing for something more. Not more gold or jewels. Something more priceless. Something more rare.
One thing he’d learned in his long, long life: wealth and power meant nothing without one to share it with. Without the one who would give his life meaning. A female. His female.
She was out there, somewhere. He had an array of sleuths searching for her. What did they call these modern age hunters? Computer Hackers? They all were searching for the female who woke the sleeping beast and made his heart beat again.
When he found her, the courtship rituals would begin. He would woo her in the manner of his people–with displays of wealth, power, and awesome majesty befitting one such as himself.
He would find her.
But until he did, he must find something to pass the time. A diversion.
A file waited on his desk, marked Rafe Lightfoot. The former Army Sergeant who’d been sniffing around his precious business dealings. In a world where he had no equal, Lightfoot was the closest thing to a challenge he could find. An enemy who had secrets to match his own.
It would be amusing to infiltrate Lightfoot’s world. Toy with his pack. Destroy his peace, for no other reason than Lightfoot was a worthy adversary.
It was not necessary, but it would do for a brief diversion. What do the kids say in this modern age? It would be …fun.
He paged through the file until he found a picture of Lightfoot with his pack. As he read the report, he idly scratched an X over the good Sargeant’s face. Congratulations, Alpha Wolf, you have my attention.