Trina knew she was taller than the average women and preferred to carry a little cushion versus walking around covered in just skin and bones. She wondered exactly what Leo would measure them on.
She nibbled her lips as she suddenly realized that she'd have competition. There were only six positions available, as Leo had said, and she was sure this wasn't the first set of interviews. Aside from the short time she'd worked as a waitress at a small restaurant when she was in college, she didn't have that much concrete experience. What would she do now? Boast about her high SAT scores, stellar GPA, and marketing degree to win the job?
Trina sighed. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
A blue postcard tacked to a bulletin board above her head caught her attention. Her eyes zoned in on the HELP WANTED title. "Bachelor Looking For Temporary Wife," it read. "Marriage union will last six weeks and three days. Temporary wife will be compensated fairly. Money is negotiable and payable in installments. Marriage for convenience only. No other duties required."
A telephone number was written at the bottom, but there was no name.
What type of man would place an ad like that? Better yet, how desperate could one get to propose something like this?
She swallowed as her cognizance told her that seeking employment at an adult entertainment club was no better and maybe slightly worse than putting up an ad in search of a temporary wife. After all, her own desperation for money had led her here.
The door to the office opened and a slim, attractive woman stepped out. Trina plucked the card from the board and stuck it down into her jeans pocket.
"Ladies," the woman said, walking down the hallway assessing each one of them. "Thank you for being on time. I'm Brenda, Leo's assistant, and will be interviewing you first. There are two interviews. One with me, and if you pass that we will consider you for round two."
Trina's instinct told her that Brenda was a shifter. No ordinary human had eyes the color of brass. Sometimes you could recognize the shifters by sight, mannerisms, but sometimes you couldn't recognize them at all since they were so well adapted to human ways.
"I've worked at one of Leo's sister clubs," the redhead stated, smacking and blowing on her gum. "Do I still need to go through all this?"
Brenda pursed her lips and her eyes twitched as though she seemed disturbed about being interrupted. "If you want to get hired again, you go through the same steps." She returned the front of the line. "To the right, there is a dressing room with dozens of clean uniforms. Take your pick. Once you're dressed, meet me back here. Your first interview begins now…on the job."
Trina's mouth widened before she could stop herself. Was Brenda suggesting that they start the job as part of the interview process…like now?
No one—except for the redhead—moved in the direction of the dressing room.
"Um…now." Brenda placed her hands on her hips and stared at them. "What are we waiting for? Here's the first test: you have fifteen minutes to get ready. Now go."
Trina stared at the woman in disbelief. She had to bite her tongue to keep from protesting. After all, this wasn't all about her. She needed the money for her father's surgery.
Chapter 4
“I’m just saying,” Dane said, turning in his chair slightly to give his brother a warning look, "lay off the raids for a bit. When you attack blindly with no lead-ins—"
Brock met his stare, baring his canines. "What do you mean, blindly? We have humans in high positions of authority whose aim is to destroy us. They've hidden behind all these little guys too long."
"And it's the little guys that you've been attacking."
"Small steps will lead me to the big guys," Brock replied, dismissively.
"Both shifters and humans are talking to the cops about possible pack retaliation. I've warned our people and have been in contact with other Alphas from at least nine surrounding packs about watching their backs…especially those of our women and children. Just take caution, brother. Let's not get caught up in a mess before we can nail this creep."
Brock growled. "Or creeps."
A string of murders involving shifters from Dane's pack and other surrounding packs was what sparked their outrage. After evidence was either destroyed or swept under the rug by investigators, Alphas and commanders from all the surrounding packs began to take matters into their own hands.
It was disheartening to learn that someone wanted them out of the picture for good and would resort to killing them by cornering them like dogs and then shooting at point-blank range.
Dane's fingers gripped the arms of the chair as his blood grew hot just thinking about the travesty. He took several shallow breaths to try to calm his composure and looked out at the swarm of gyrating body's on the dance floor of LIVE nightclub.
The shifter woman standing behind him kneaded his shoulders firmly. The massage was relaxing, but every time he and his brother disagreed on an issue or brought up a rather touchy subject, the tension would return. It was no mystery why Brock had picked this place to meet up. The blaring rock music matched his brother's irritation and the call girls he'd ordered to keep them company while they talked served as a mild diversion to the situation.
Just as Dane opened his mouth again to speak, a waitress entered their section with a selection of cocktails on her tray. She wasn't the same waitress who'd been serving them all along. This was a different one. She was very human. Very innocent looking. Very…very attractive. When he caught her fresh floral scent, his mouth began to water for more than just the beverages.
Dane sat straight up in his chair as she came to pause in front of her table. There was a tightening in the center of his chest and pulsing in his groin that he couldn't stop. He'd had his share, so it wasn't likely to have such a reaction to one of the call girls walking around under the guise of a waitress. Something was different about this one…
The woman kept her eyes on the ground and he caught a whiff of anxiety from the tempting scent she was giving off. Right off the bat, he could tell that she was new. Leo liked to hire them fresh, with no experience. It kept the males coming back for more since the pickings were varied night after night.
Goddammit! He hadn't come here tonight to satisfy his lust. He came to talk business.
She had relatively long hair, deep brown, either pulled back or braided. He couldn't quite see from her angle. Tendrils hung against her face and some of it even stuck to her temples where she'd perspired a bit. The black mini dress she wore clung to her like a stocking and the wide belt cinched in her small waist. Her legs appeared incredibly long as she balanced her weight on what looked like four-inch heels. He couldn't see her eyes because thick black lashes hid them completely, and she had yet to look up at any of them.
"Miss, we don't do fruity drinks over here," Brock burst out.
To Dane's surprise, the woman looked up with striking hazel eyes and gave his brother a death stare. Fuck, she was beautiful…even when she seemed to take offense to Brock's outburst.
"Cut it out," Dane said under his breath, hoping his bold, can't-hold-his-tongue brother didn't cause a scene he'd regret later on.
"I take orders too." She smiled sweetly. "Would you like another round of what you have?"
"Scotch," Brock said. "Straight."
The woman licked her lips and her gaze flickered on Dane for only a second. "And you?"
"Your name?"
"Excuse me?" She looked up with a blank stare.
"Give me your name," he said, slowly this time.
Her nose wrinkled as though she'd misunderstood his request. There was something quite not right about her. Sure, she looked the part, but she damn sure didn't act the part of a call girl…and her next statement proved this.
"No," she said, flatly. "But can I get you a drink?"
Dane's head reeled back in shock and he ignored Brock's chuckle beside him. He swallowed. Although he hated accepting no for an answer, he decided that it was most appropriate in this case. "I'll take the cock
tail on the right."
He watched carefully as she slid the drink across the table to him. Her nails were cut short and painted a barely-there pink color. Her hands and wrists were small and dainty. Her full, lush breasts pushed against her top as she leaned in.
He slipped a Benjamin between her fingers. "Thank you." The pads of his digits glided along the inside of her wrist as he pulled back. Her skin was soft and he longed to hold her hand for a moment longer.
A heated blush reddened her face and neck. She averted her gaze once again. "I'll be back with the scotch."
"Leo seems to be hiring more and more human women these days," Brock said, as the waitress walked away. "I wonder why that is."
"Variety brings in more business," Dane said looking after her delicious body. Her hips swayed naturally as she walked away. "We shifters like to stick together. We see the same faces day in and day out. While keeping to ourselves works in the Aspen Valley community to a certain degree, the same reasoning doesn't work for Leo's business."
"I know…it's all about the money." Brock leaned back in his chair, letting the call girl perform her magic on his shoulders. "It all spends the same whether it comes from us shifters or those humans."
"You got that right." Something other than human money piqued Dane's interest at this moment and he shrugged his shoulders to stop the relaxing massage and stood. "Excuse me for a moment."
It didn't take Dane Magnus long to catch the scent of the waitress who held his immediate attention. Surprisingly she was not at the bar collecting the drink order she'd taken from Brock, but she'd retreated down a narrow hallway toward the back rooms. Her back was facing both the crowd and Dane, but she looked just as beautiful from behind as she was from up front.
The left side her body was pressed up against the wall and she had dropped her face in her palms. Her neck was slender and long and dark brown curls escaped the french braid at the back of her head. Some of the tendrils stuck to the damp skin on her nape. He had a nice view of her plump ass filling out the short skirt she wore. She was taller than the average chick, with sexy ass legs that went on for nights. Her thighs were just the right size, thick enough for his large hands to grip.
Dane bit his bottom lip and willed his hungry wolf to settle down. This woman wasn't your ordinary chick. He could easily tell that the moment she entered his personal space in the VIP section. And from the way she flat out refused to give her name told him that she was stubborn and possibly played hard to get.
Well…a challenge he didn't mind. Not at all. He grinned and advanced further down the hall toward her.
Chapter 5
Trina detected a presence lurking behind her. She could tell it was a male as his scent was strong and husky. The amount of perverted creeps flooding this place was astounding and she'd had to run a few of them off already. Apparently, some of the men were getting her mixed up with the prostitutes working in this place. She was desperate for cash, but not so desperate that she would sell her body. There was no way she could fake it long enough to make the amount of money she needed in such a short time. She'd already made here in tips what she would have made working one full ten-hour day at the dry cleaners. How tempting and lucrative this could become, but it certainly wasn't her style. However, she'd always said the same thing to her father about running the dry cleaning business. Acting the part of a loose harlot was convenient while the cash rolled in, but when the men became extra friendly, what would she do then?
As the body behind her drew nearer, Trina took no chances. She swung around, determined to strike the male stranger.
To her surprise, the male caught her by the upper arm and pushed her into the concrete wall. Trina's first thought was that she'd finally encountered a creep who would force himself on her. The male was so tall that all she could see was the front of his shirt. She twisted and struggled against him anyway, finally deciding that she'd made the worst decision. After this, she wouldn't be extending her training period any longer. It was time to find some other part-time job.
"Calm your nerves, kitten." His familiar voice sent a slow creep of warmth up her spine. "I want to chat."
Her body tensed and her back stiffened against the wall. "Then let me go."
The man loosened his grip on her arm. She finally exhaled and then inhaled taking in long drags of his intoxicating scent.
"What are you doing here, kitten? In a club full of wolves," he whispered against her ear.
His voice. His scent. His touch worked to drug her. He had to have been a shifter. A wolf. He smelled like man, but the underlying animalistic musky aura seemed too carnal to her.
Trina trembled involuntarily and to her embarrassment, warm juices coated her panties. She pushed against his chest, fighting between the urge to get a view of his face and to run off never to step foot in this nightclub again.
"Working," she snapped. "Now get off me so I can get back to it."
"Working?" He chuckled deeply. "You don't look like a whore to me."
Her neck flamed in anger and degradation. "Look, creep..." She shoved hard at his chest. "If you don't le—"
She swallowed her words as her gaze locked with him. They now stood two feet apart from each other and Trina's lips parted in surprise when she identified the stranger as the attractive man who'd asked for her name instead of a drink.
"You?" she mumbled.
He grinned and dragged his gaze up and down her body. "If I leave you alone, kitten, I won't be able to finish what I started."
Her mouth went dry as she took him in. He had a rugged nature about him. Black hair fell over into his face and eyes and his solid gray eyes riveted her.
"What you started?" she asked.
What the heck was wrong with her? Men didn't have this reaction to her. Not anymore. Not since she'd become a recluse working day in and day out at the dry cleaners. The mix of smells and the claustrophobic feel in the nightclub must be getting to her. Being without a man for so long had taught Trina that her vibrator did a much better job of satisfying her anyway.
The stranger stepped forward again, but this time she let him close the gap. "I'm a shifter. I think you know that. And I smell your arousal."
Her breath hitched in her throat. "Liar."
"Are you aroused by my presence?"
"No."
His big hands slid against her hips and he grabbed her waist, pulling her against his chest. "Liar."
"I'm not giving you my name and I'm not a whore," she said firmly. "I understand it if you were mistaken, but I'll give you your money back."
"I don't want my money back." He traced the outline of her ear with the soft tip of his nose and inhaled. "Your fucking scent is driving me crazy."
Her pussy clenched and her erect nipples scraped against the silken fabric of her bra. This couldn't be happening. There was no way she was getting aroused by a stranger in a nightclub who thought she was a whore.
"I was just leaving," she said. "So you won't have that problem anymore."
"What's your name?" he demanded again.
"Kitten."
He laughed softly and her body reacting by warming to the calming tone. "You're not a very good liar, but you are a very good tease."
"I've got to get back to work." She said it, yet her body became lax against his and she made no moves to go.
"Work would be so much easier if you only had one to serve, don't you think?"
"You're mistaken…"
His hand slipped under her top, gripping the bare skin on her waist possessively. He held one hand on the wall next to her head and leaned in against her so that they were eye to eye. "I have a question for you." His tongue parted through the seam of his lips. "I want the truth and then I'll let you be."
"I'm not giving you my name."
"I haven't asked the question yet."
"Go on then. Ask it. And then just let me be."
"How wet is that sweet pussy right now, kitten?"
Trina reacted on instinct, shove
d him, and brought her open palm down across the side of his face. "Bastard!"
His reaction to being slapped stunned her. One corner of his lip turned upward into a smirk as he brought his hand to his face. "Nice to meet you too, kitten."
In a state of arousal that was perfectly obvious to this attractive stranger, Trina turned and made a beeline for the exit.
But she never made it out…
Rough arms gripped her and a cold hard object was shoved into her back. When she turned to see who caught her this time, a measly looking man snarled at her.
"Do something stupid, bitch, and lose your life."
He aimed his gun at the crowd and fired three shots. The crowd went berserk. Bodies began flying toward all the exits. Glass broke as people attempted escape. Tables and chairs toppled over, crashing to the floor.
This man's threat was serious and there was no playful edge in his tone.
Trina's heart raced with a driving cadence. As the gunman gripped her tighter, her veins twisted, pulling themselves into knots. Although she wanted to scream, her throat was dry. One minute she was headed to the bar to fill up her tray and the next minute she was praying silently for her life. She should have never come out all this way.
The gunman fired two more shots at the fleeing crowd. Her heart jumped each time a shot was fired.
On the last shot, a man dropped to the ground and his body stopped moving.
Her breath tripped up in her throat and on instinct she jerked, trying to loosen his hold, but the gunman jerked back, preventing her from going anywhere.
The gun had been so close to her ear when he expelled the bullets that she could barely hear the panicked screams as the crowd trampled over each other to get to the exit. Instead she heard a consistent ringing that sounded like the whistle of a water kettle. It rang for longer than she could stand until it felt like her eardrums would burst.
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