She was actually a good person. And she was clever – he had to admit, using those two old biddies to force his receptionist to go fetch him was a stroke of genius. And worse, he was attracted to her. In fact, he’d been shocked by the jolt of arousal that shot through him the second he walked through the door and laid eyes on her.
It had taken just about everything that he had not to openly gape at her like an infatuated teenager. Years of clawing his way to the top through ruthless business negotiations, and his other, secret training, had taught him to maintain a poker face, but he’d almost lost it when she walked in the room.
By God, she was just about perfect. From her plump red lips to her soft, generous curves, she was everything a bear could want. He wanted to bury himself in her yielding, sweet scented flesh. He wanted to crush her against his body, and –
No! This wasn’t just about him, unfortunately. If it was, he’d beg her forgiveness for dodging the interviews, and insist on flying her across the country for an exotic dinner and then take her back to his home in Seattle and ravish her all night long on silken sheets. And then the next day. And the next.
But there was much more at stake here than his raging testosterone and the uncomfortably hard erection which he prayed she hadn’t noticed. International security, the safety of his own family, and the oaths he’d sworn to uphold, were at risk.
Unfortunately, the beautiful wolf shifter wasn’t stupid. She’d started to ask probing questions, questions which alarmed him. She was right; if the main reason he was here was to help his family expand their business, he’d be eager for publicity.
He needed to head her off at the pass, give her the information she thought she wanted, and send her on her way. In fact, it couldn’t hurt to let her tour the construction site, check out the renovation, get pictures of it, and emphasize that the reason he was in town was to expand the operations of Sweet Stuff. No other reason. It was vital that she believe that.
If only he’d met her somewhere else, under some other circumstances, he thought regretfully. The things he wanted to do that sexy woman. He wanted to rip her clothing from her body and -
His phone rang, mercifully interrupting the pornographic thoughts which flooded through his brain, and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was his mother, calling from the main family house on their property a quarter mile away.
“Mom! How are you doing?”
“Well, just wonderful, dear. Are you still coming over for dinner?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“How are things going? Did you meet any nice girls yet?”
He silently cursed. Could the woman read his mind? Anyway, it didn’t matter if he met any nice girls, because he had important responsibilities which prevented him from settling down. He couldn’t tell his mother about his responsibilities, ever, so instead he endured her endless nagging about his single status.
“You know me, Mom, I’m married to my job.”
“Well, we’ll see about that. I’ll see you at six tonight, then.”
He felt alarm rumble through him. We’ll see about that? What did that mean? Was she going to fix him up with someone? He truly hoped not. He didn’t have the time or the patience to sit there and be polite while his mother tried to fix him up with some second cousin of one of her quilting bee buddies, or whatever she was planning on.
With a sigh, he headed out of the house to his car. He had work to do, which would take him the rest of the day. There had been sightings out in the area he and his team were watching, and he needed to get as close as he safely could to check it out. That meant shifting into bear form, of course, but he was fine with that. It was a beautiful day for a run in the woods, a raid on a beehive, and some recon.
He glanced at his family’s big white farmhouse down the road, and at the construction crew swarming over the property, and he relaxed a little bit. As long as that crew was there, his family was safe. They’d make sure of it.
Chapter Three
Coral was about to boil over with fury. She glanced at her watch. She glanced at it again. She glanced at the clock on the wall.
They both said the same thing: it was 8:15 a.m., and she’d been stood up. Flint McCoy was actually standing her up.
And she thought she’d been so clever the day before, showing up and forcing him to agree to meet with her. Well, if she’d had any doubt how little he wanted to do with her before, he’d made it perfectly clear now.
Okay, she thought, there’s no point in sitting around here stewing with rage. She could do that at work while she typed up the “About Town” column. She gulped down the rest of her coffee, her stomach growling. She hadn’t ordered breakfast because she’d been waiting for Flint.