by Eva Gordon
She’d dialed the police. At the sound of sirens, he dashed out, not bothering to clean his muddy prints.
Making sure Rachel didn’t see him; he donned the clothes he hid behind a hedge. As much as he hated using his alpha mind control, he’d no choice but to convince the good police officers to forget the footprint evidence. He heard the click of their camera. At their squad car, he held their gazes, a task he’d perfected. Lev deleted the pictures from the camera. They left the scene, no memory of finding evidence of any intruder in their heads.
Lev had not checked into his French Quarter hotel. He walked several blocks away and cancelled his stay. Better not to tempt the wolf.
Dressed in casual jeans, shirt and black leather coat, he thought he’d come in, check on her, make her forget he visited and then get on the next plane back to Montana.
Lev straightened his leather coat and knocked on the door. No answer. Just the lingering smell of burnt pizza. He tilted his head to listen. She’d left.
Lev growled. She’d gone out in this crazy city in the middle of the night. Alone. Unprotected. He flared his nostrils and easily caught her glorious aroma. He pushed through the busy streets of New Year’s Eve revelers, drunken tourists and performers. The noise threatened to shatter his ear drums. How he missed the quiet stillness of the boreal forests.
Lev paused in front of a quaint yet elegant restaurant, Rachel had entered. He walked in and glanced at the menu, trying not to look desperate. The meal costs pricy. The Creole inspired mural art, exquisite. An expensive restaurant. Just his taste. He smiled. Shouldn’t be hard to convince her I was just here for a day on business. I’ll make sure she is safe, and then leave.
A jazz piano musician played a lively tune that reminded him of turn of the century music. The place was packed. No surprise. Tonight was New Year’s Eve.
There. Lev gaped at the beautiful blonde sitting alone at the bar. Her golden locks were swept up on her head, exposing a porcelain delicate neck. His gaze roamed from her neck to her perfectly round petite ass. She nursed a martini. He stiffened. Was she waiting for a date? According to Natalya, she’d moved in with a girlfriend. No boyfriend. Slow rage built inside him. Mine. His fierce wolf proved relentless in his desire to kill any man who dared claim her. Yet, she could never be his.
Had he made a mistake coming? He turned to leave, but then paused. Best to wait until her date arrived. Whoever he was, he would see to it she got home safely. He raged. Nyet. This man would stay the night.
“Do you have a reservation, sir?” asked the maître d, a slender man.
He gazed into his eyes. “Yes, name is Lev. A table in the back.”
The maître d glanced at the list. “I’m sorry…”
“I’ll take my table now.”
He nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Rachel talked to the bartender, a woman, and fortunately, hadn’t noticed him as he followed the head waiter to his private table.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Vodka, but bring the young lady with the black dress at the bar your best bottle of chilled champagne.”
“An entire bottle, sir?”
“Her name is Rachel. You can tell her it’s from an old friend sitting alone.”
He winked. “Yes, sir.”
Sorry, Howard. Lost to the wolf’s desires, he swallowed his guilt. No harm in just one dinner.
Rachel slowly sipped her martini. The tables had all been booked, but she was okay just sitting at the bar for a drink and appetizers. On the way over, she’d bit the bullet and called Maggie about the wolf and break-in. She hadn’t been angry at all. She told Rachel not to worry about it. No harm done and she’d add an extra deadbolt to the back door when she returned. Rachel asked her if anyone owned a pet wolf. Maggie said the only dogs she’d seen were small lap dogs and one older golden retriever two houses down. This spooked Rachel more. She saw a giant wolf, like none she’d ever seen before. With its blue glowing eyes, it almost looked fake as if created by CGI. Could her brain be playing mind tricks on her? She ate the olive and watched couples enter. She finished the martini. Must be nice to bring in the New Year with a significant other.
As the restaurant grew noisier, Rachel became lonelier. This was her first New Year’s Eve alone. The last couple years, she had skipped the celebratory drink to work on patients, but at least she’d been around people, even if they were colleagues and patients. The bartender, a graduate student had struck up a conversation, but only briefly. Couldn’t blame her, this had to be one of the busiest nights for drinks. Good tips.
The head waiter brought her a bottle of champagne chilled in a small bucket. “For you, ma’am.”
Rachel shook her head. “This must be a mistake. I didn’t order this.”
“It’s from the gentleman sitting at the back table.” He pointed.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know anyone.” Rachel narrowed her eyes toward the back, but couldn’t make any one out. She often turned male heads, but this place was not a typical pick up joint.
“I’m quite sure, ma’am. Your name is Rachel, is it not?”
“Yes.” She stood. Her skin chilled. Aside from Maggie and her boyfriend Jim, no one in New Orleans knew her name. Her heart skipped a beat. Had her father decided to visit? But how would he know she was here?
The head waiter picked up the bucket. “If you wish to join him, I’ll take you to his table and you can both bring in the New Year with our finest champagne.”
Stranger danger. Finest? “How old is this gentleman?”
He furrowed his brow. “I’d guess in his early thirties, and athletic.”
Nothing would happen in a crowded restaurant. “Very well.” She followed the head waiter to the secluded table. Her eyes widened. “Lev?”
He stood and towered over her. “Rachel, what a pleasure to see you have healed so well.” He muttered something in Russian, which sounded poetic and complementary.
Like a bumbling idiot, she asked. “What… are you doing here?”
“Business.” He took her hand. “Please, sit and join me.” He smiled at the waiter. “Pour us a glass.”
“Yes, sir.” The waiter’s eyes glazed and he appeared in a hypnotic trance rather than the usual polite courtesy toward a customer. He poured them a glass. “I will return with the dinner menu.”
As the waiter walked away, a man in a nearby table called, “Hey, we’ve been here a lot longer.”
Rachel sat, but then looked behind her at the entrance. “If you are waiting for a friend, I won’t be long.”
“I am alone.” His blue eyes pierced her. “Are you waiting for someone?”
His chiseled handsome face and deep Russian accent robbed her of speech. “Umm. No. I’m alone.”
“Good then. We’ll bring in the New Year together.”
Rachel glanced at her watch, 8:15p.m. She should not stay out too long. Not with prowlers and wildlife near her home. “I should head back before midnight.”
“Why? Are you like Cinderella?”
“Yes, no. I mean, someone broke into my home and I’m worried he’ll come back. And not to sound too bizarre, but I also saw a big black wolf lurking outside.”
He gave her reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk you home.” His blue eyes drew her in like a pool of warm water enticing her to jump in. How she wanted to.
God, he was mesmerizing. He reminded her of an Eastern European vampire here on business with the local vampires. “What? No. I mean, you hardly know me.”
“It’s my duty as your father’s grateful patient to make sure the big bad wolf doesn’t eat Goldilocks.”
“You mean Little Red Riding Hood.”
Lev reached and tucked a loose curl on her styled hairdo. “Your golden curls remind me more of Goldilocks.”
His warm fingers brushed against her face, sending tingling sensations throughout her body. Just as quickly, he drew away. It almost felt like she’d left a warm bath and then jump
ed into a cold river. “I normally don’t wear my hair up.”
“Down or up, each way is enticing.”
He was definitely coming on to her. “Thank you.” She smiled. “You must think I’m crazy thinking I saw a wolf.”
“In Russia, it’s common to see wolves near the woods.”
“In Louisiana, there are no wild wolves. This one had to be a hybrid or some other experimental creature since it was clearly the size of a bear.”
He stared at the menu. “We’ll start with the oyster soup appetizer. I will have the lamb rack—and you.”
Maybe it was a language barrier, but there was no question mark at the end of you. She shook her head as if he had her under some sort of mind control. Like the waiter. In horror movies, vampires enthralled people to do their bidding. No, her imagination had done her in, recalling, how for the last couple months, gorgeous mysterious Lev had occupied her dreams. She lowered her gaze to the menu. “The grouper amandine sounds good. And if you don’t mind, we’ll go Dutch.”
“You mean we share the bill?”
Rachel had not expected to pay this much for dinner, but she had her pride. “Yes. I can’t let you pay for the champagne and the entire meal.”
“We go Russian.”
“Meaning?”
“I pay.”
Her cheeks heated. Did this mean he expected more? Not that she didn’t want to go War and Peace all over his hot muscular body, but such expectations would make the entire evening awkward. “Okay, but I’ll cover the tip.”
“I invited you. I pay for everything. End of discussion.”
His dominant alpha persona irked her, but maybe he was filthy rich and a date was all he expected. A man with his looks could have a supermodel. Dang. One for each day of the week. Maybe he was being polite because he was Howard’s former patient and friend. As much as she wanted to argue, in America, women paid for part of the dinner date, something about his deep domineering voice commanded her to obey. Not marriage material, but it’s not like they were seriously dating or anything even remotely close. He was here on business and would leave in a few days. “If you insist.”
Lev raised his glass. “Na zdorovie.”
Rachel relaxed. “Cheers.” They clicked their glasses and Rachel practically drained hers. One martini and now champagne on an empty stomach loosened her up. Why not enjoy an evening with the hottest guy she’d ever met?
The waiter returned and took their order.
She suppressed a giggle. “Let me guess, import export business?”
“Security business.”
Based on his tough macho aura definitely not computer security, but rather more in the lines of a bodyguard company. “Oh, as in protection?”
“Very perceptive.”
“Working overseas in often risky parts of the world, I’ve run across security detail for business people and politicians. Are you here to protect someone?”
“I don’t discuss work. Private matter.”
She lowered her gaze. “Of course.” Better she not know anyway. For all she knew, he could be a Russian spy, or a mercenary offering his services to a rich mobster. He seemed polite and rich, but radiated badass. How had Lev gotten to know her father? Was it all good natured, or was there a more criminal reason? I know so little about dear old Dad. For all I know, Lev might work for some kingpin and Howard had been forced to perform surgery. Red flag. Her father had not been too happy seeing him at the house. Lev could prove too dangerous to both her life and heart.
Chapter 4
Lev gazed at Rachel’s amber eyes. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all.”
“Will you practice medicine here in New Orleans?”
“No. I’m taking a little break, but there are a few options I’m considering.”
He narrowed his gaze, this time controlling her mind. “Not returning to Africa, correct?”
Rachel blinked as if fighting a trance. She was strong willed for a human. “No. Never. At least not for work.”
A wave of guilt slapped Lev in the face for using mind control, but damn it, he would not leave unless she was safe. And that included not traveling back to where she almost died. “What options are you considering?”
“I’m thinking about Nepal.”
So far away. Avalanches, poverty, and other unknowns clouded his mood. Not to mention the high elevation and treacherous cliffs. Was she some daredevil rock climber? The type that died foolishly on Mount Everest? What would he do about her? He hated resorting to more mind control. She wasn’t his puppet. “That’s on the other side of the world.”
“I spent a summer there. Loved it. This time I hope to travel in the slower winter months.”
“Winter?”
“Actually, it’s not too bad, according to my friend John who has trekked the entire region. He says the weather is clear and the trails not as crowded. Worth the extra layer of warm clothes.”
Lev’s muscles tightened. John? Was he also her lover? He reined in his need to pursue the matter. After all, she would someday marry a human. “Are you a trekker or a climber?”
“A trekker. I’m not big on heights or, for that matter, falling. I’m happy to just take in the view from a safe distance.”
So there was a limit to her risk taking behavior. “I see.”
“Have you been to Nepal?”
“I was in India and Pakistan on business, but never made it to the Himalayas.” He had been on his way to Afghanistan to rescue a team of special ops humans, but no need to share that tidbit.
“If you love snow, which I assume you do, you would enjoy it.”
He smiled in amusement. “How do you know I love snow?”
“I’m just thinking of cold Russian nights. I saw Dr. Zhivago and found it terribly romantic.” She blushed. Not just her face, but her exquisite long porcelain neck. “I mean the cinematography was pretty epic.”
“Indeed. Snow is very romantic.”
She sipped champagne and licked her lips, driving him mad with desire. “Sounds crazy going from African heat to Nepalese cold.” She circled a finger around the rim of her glass, again setting off his lustful wolf. “I might even consider working there, but I think I know what I want.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“Actually, this is going to sound even crazier.”
Great. Now she was about to tell him, she wanted to travel to Mars and return in twenty years. “What?”
“I know Howard still practices medicine, but not sure where. I’m guessing some secret government operation.” She winked as if knowing he was in on her father’s secret. “Anyway, I thought it would be cool to practice medicine together.”
Poor Rachel, still missing the father she never got to know. Howard didn’t want her near werewolves. If she joined their lycan society, she’d be sworn to secrecy and never return to her normal life. She’d need to accept their strict status quo. Howard would never leave their society, not even for his daughter. He devoted his life to studying werewolf medicine and Luponomics, the genetics of werewolves. Then there was Howard’s great love, beta and fellow scientist, Selene. If Rachel ever joins them, it will be as my mate. Not such a bad idea. Yet, how could he betray the man who saved his life? His inner wolf growled. Take her. Lev downed his glass of champagne. I must leave. “Tell me, how does a lovely lady such as yourself remain single?”
“I came close to marriage, but I’m afraid my work came first.”
“His loss.”
“What about you, do you have a lady back in Russia?”
“I moved to the states, and no, I left no lady.” He detected a whispered sigh of relief. What was wrong with him? He should not lead her on. It was bad enough he used his Russian intelligence friends to find her. If Rylee found out, she might send the pack after him. Let her try. He had told her, he would serve in Team Greywolf on a contractual basis. He needed his independence.
He could take Rachel to Russia. Somewhere, they
’d never find them. Yet, he would not let his wolf dishonor the man who saved his life.
Lev signaled the waiter who stopped taking an order. “Yes, sir.”
“Bring me a vodka.”
“Yes, of course.” He dashed to the bar.
Rachel shook her head. “He obeys you as if you’re the only customer.”
“I will tip him well.”
“I doubt the other customers feel that way.”
The waiter returned with the vodka.
“Rachel, would you like wine for dinner?”
“Red would suit.”
“Bring me your best cabernet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lev smiled at the servers. “At last, dinner.”
Rachel nervously glanced around. At least the other customers no longer acted displeased Lev got preferential treatment. Was he an ambassador or a more important person than your run of the mill security business executive or, as she imagined, a master spy? No. Something about Lev’s aura demanded instant obedience. Was it his deep commanding voice, or the look of his smoldering blue eyes? Whatever his mesmerism, she too fell prey to it. Warm heat gathered between her legs. If he asked to have sex with her, right now, on the table, in front of the entire restaurant, dang it, she would. Okay, too much alcohol on an empty stomach. She sipped the wine and like with the champagne, she let him drink first. Of course, the waiter poured his glass first, old-fashion tradition. Nonetheless, she waited for Lev’s approving nod. Of all the people in the world, Rachel never asked permission. But with him, she wanted to. She took a whiff of the aromatic fish and forked a flake.
Lev gently grabbed her wrist. “Allow me to take the first bite.” He bit off a piece of the roll. “Now you.”
“What was that about?”
“Old family custom. Man takes first bite.”
The way he said “bite” with a deep mysterious vampire vibe, sent gooseflesh up her arms. Still, that sexy tone won’t work on me, comrade. “No offense, but that’s a bit sexist for my taste.”