by Olivia Arran
I snorted, my hands flying up to smother the undignified sound. “Huh, well, if you can call being talked into an arranged mating a love life, then I have a fantastic one!”
“And the man you’ve been talked into mating with, what’s he like?” Before I had the chance to answer, her face broke into a wide grin. “Perfect!” She leaped up from the chair and darted across the room. “It’s got to be here somewhere…” she mumbled, wrenching open drawers and digging around inside.
Open mouthed, I watched as she tossed things over her shoulder: pens, a silver thimble, a ratty teddy bear, lipstick, a twisted spoon, one earring, a calculator, a man’s watch—
She froze, her eyes widening, then scooping the watch up off the floor, she shoved it into one of her many hidden pockets.
“Astrid, what are you looking for?”
“I’ll know it when I see it…”
Normally, her behavior didn’t faze me. I was used to her quirks, and loved her for them. But right now she was starting to worry me. I tried again. “Astrid—”
“Found it!” She spun around, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
“Found what?” I peered at the piece of paper in her hand, wondering what the hell could be so important. And what it had to do with Vin.
“Here. Keep this safe. It’ll make sense when you need it.” She thrust it at me.
Accepting it, I turned it over. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this. I blinked at her. Was this a joke? “It’s a photograph.” Duh, stating the obvious.
“Yes, it is.”
“Astrid…why are you giving me this?”
“You’ll know when you hear the question.”
Dammit, she loved to talk all cryptic and spooky. “But why—? What—?” I muttered, peering at the photograph another time. I flicked it over to check the back. There were no names, no date. Just a crowd of people in what looked like a busy London club. Or it could be any club, in any town.
“There you go!” She said it like she’d given me the moon.
“Uh, thanks?” I replied weakly, shoving the photograph into my pocket to study later.
Astrid returned to her seat and picked up her now-cold tea. “Vin.”
“What about him?” I asked, a wary note to my voice. Maybe the photograph had something to do with Vin? And had I mentioned his name?
“You like him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I don’t dislike him,” I answered carefully.
“What’s not to like? He’s handsome and strong and into you. Not to mention good at his job!”
“Good at his job?” This was the first I’d heard about him having a job. And, wait— “Do you know him?”
She waved a hand, dismissing my question. “Me? No. A little bit. Not at all.”
“Then how do you—”
“Trust your instinct, Grace. Trust what the universe is trying to tell you. Then you’ll know.”
I felt like I was walking in circles, her words tying me in a knot. “Know what?”
“That he’s the one for you.”
“It’s an arranged mating. He doesn’t really want it, just like I don’t.”
“Is it, doesn’t he, don’t you? Are you being honest with yourself?” She fired off the questions one after the other, barely pausing for breath.
I opened my mouth to reply, all the while trying to figure out what the hell I was meant to say to that, but she beat me to it.
“It was lovely to see you! I have to go meet someone now but you’ll come back soon, no?” Every now and again her American accent slipped, the cadence altering into one belonging to a foreign tongue.
Usually when she was flustered.
I let myself be ushered through the shop and out of the front door. Grabbing her arm before she had the chance to slip away, I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Astrid. You’re my one true friend here.” And I meant it. I hadn’t adapted well to life in England, partly because I was clinging onto the fantasy of home because I’d lost the energy to try.
“Don’t give up on hope, Grace,” she murmured, then she closed the door.
Walking back home I stroked my thumb over the photograph nestled deep inside my pocket. I wonder if Uncle has a magnifying glass in his study? My feet sped up.
Chapter Thirteen
Grace
Still confused about what I had found hidden in the photograph last night, I opened the door to the fancy restaurant and stepped inside. Handing my coat to the maître d’, I followed him through the tightly packed tables toward the back of the room.
To where Vin sat waiting for me.
Rising from his seat, he walked around the table to pull out my chair. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here,” he all but growled at the poor maître d’, sending him scurrying away.
Tilting my head to hide my smirk, I allowed him to seat me, doing my best to ignore the way his hands brushed against my back as he scooted my chair in. But I couldn’t ignore the heat in his eyes. He might as well have taken out a billboard: Plan for tonight—seduce Grace.
Stifling the shiver that rippled down my spine, I toyed with my fork, the low murmur of voices and occasional burst of laughter washing over me.
Why had Astrid given me a photograph of Sid? I had access to plenty of photos at home.
“Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me, Grace. After the way I behaved last night I half expected you to turn me down.”
The way he said my name, his voice deepening as it rolled off his tongue, stirred wicked thoughts. Focus, Grace! I nudged the fork back into place and looked up, finally meeting his eyes. “Since the Council expect us to be mated, I figured it was probably a good idea.” I didn’t mention that a part of me was waging a childish rebellion against my auntie and uncle. The second they’d heard Vin wanted to meet with me they’d forbidden it.
Which went to show they didn’t know me that well after all. My mom had labeled me a stubborn child, one most likely to do the opposite of what was asked of me.
And that stubborn streak had thrown a whole goddamn party with my libido egging it on. So, of course I’d said yes.
But now I was here I was unsure. I didn’t know if I was going to go through with this whole mating charade, so what was I doing leading him on?
“What’s wrong, Grace?”
At the soft question I nearly broke down into a flood of tears, frustration welling up inside of me. I swallowed, forcing a weak smile to my lips. “There’s nothing wrong.” Apart from my best friend is still missing. I’m being auctioned off and I don’t even know if the man I like actually likes me back.
I liked him? Understandable, I reasoned with myself. He was a good kisser, yummy to look at, and, from the looks of it, a good listener. Of course I like him. It doesn’t mean I wanted to mate with him! Jeez, was it hot in here? I resisted the urge to fan myself.
“You’ve got a lot going on in there.” His observation had heat rushing to my cheeks.
I was out of practice at this whole date thing, used to my own company most of the time. And he was probably used to girls laughing and joking and throwing themselves at him, not sitting here all meek and timid.
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” I asked, pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
“First son of the Brownstone Pack, one brother—”
“Not that kind of stuff. I want to hear about you.” If I’d wanted his bio I could have Googled it. Okay, I might have already done that…
He sat back in his chair, assessing me with his dark eyes. “Let’s see…I’ve lived in America for the last five years—I love it there, the culture, the people. I’ve made some good friends, some closer than family.”
“What are their names? The friends you call family, that is.”
“There’s Cole, Greg, Abel, and Angel—”
“Wait! Is that his real name? Angel?”
“Nope. Real name Gabriel.”
I nodded, gesturing
for him to carry on. “Ah, I see.”
“We share a house—”
“Like frat boys?”
“Are you going to keep interrupting me?”
I answered his pained grin with one of my own. “Only to get you to spill the details.”
“That’s okay then. Anyway, as I was saying…” he paused to give his order to the waiter hovering nearby. “Wine?”
I shook my head. No way was I drinking around him. I already felt a little lightheaded and giddy just from being in his presence. “I’ll have the salmon, please.” I snapped the menu closed and passed it back to the waiter.
I turned back to Vin. “You were saying?”
“Right. I don’t have a lot of hobbies, don’t really have the time for them—”
“Why not?”
That earned me another pointed look.
I held my hands up in mock surrender.
He hesitated before answering. “I do like to play cards.”
“And I’m a regular card sharp. You didn’t answer my question, which brings me to another. What do you do for a living?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer. Astrid had said he was good at his job, but to my knowledge he lived off his family money. Just another rich playboy.
“This and that.”
Great. Could he be any more vague? I scowled at him, crossing my arms over my chest in a huff. “Fine. Don’t tell me then. I can guess what this and that entails.”
The asshole just smirked at me, his eyes flashing with barely restrained amusement. “And what would that be?”
“Forget it.”
“Nope. You’ve obviously already built up an image of me in your head, so why not share? Then I can tell you if you’re right or not.” He crossed his arms over his chest in mimicry of me, his biceps straining through the dark cotton of his T-shirt.
Right now, the only image I had in my mind was one of him naked. Of me licking my way over each and every muscle, starting at his chest and working my way down over his hopefully rock-hard abs.
“Are you okay? You’ve gone a little red. And your eyes look a little glazed.”
I could hear the hint of laughter in his voice. He knew exactly where my mind had just gone. I cleared my throat, but nothing came out except a hoarse squeak. Those damn images were multiplying and growing in my mind every time I snuck a glance at him.
“Let’s just say that I help people for a living and it takes up a lot of my time. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He’d taken pity on me. And also dodged the question.
Whatever. Shuffling in my seat, I caught his eye. Faint lines traced the corners, deepening with his smile.
“Tell me about you, Grace. What makes you tick?”
Finding Elle? It was the only thing I thought about now, the only thing that got me out of bed on a morning and my last thought at night. Or it had been, now it shared brain space with him. I was such a suck-ass friend.
He tried again to coax an answer from me. “What are you passionate about?”
I didn’t know why he was bothering. If I were him I’d be thinking this was the worst date ever and thinking up excuses so I could leave.
Warmth engulfed my hand as he reached across the table. “What makes you excited? What do you see yourself doing ten years from now?”
“Teaching women how to defend themselves. Showing them that they never have to be a victim.” I blurted it all out, sharing with him the dream I had never shared with another. What the—? But there was something about him that made me want to open up.
“And how would you go about doing that?” He didn’t laugh in my face or brush my hopes aside. He asked the question seriously.
“Self-defense training. I—I know some Aikido. I’d like to create a program using some of the techniques, change a few things of course to make it easier to learn, and equip women with five or six moves that would work against an attacker.” I leaned toward him, my excitement for the subject eclipsing any lingering nerves.
“Aikido?” His eyebrows shot up, a low whistle coming from his lips. “Wow. How long have you studied?”
“Since I was little, probably seven or eight. I’m not sure; my mom would have known.”
He studied my face, his eyes roaming as if he were memorizing every detail. “I think you can do it. You should do it.” He’d skipped over the obvious question about my parents, for which I was grateful.
I arched an eyebrow at him. “You’d let your mate do that? Open her own business teaching women how to beat other men up?”
He leaned forward, until we were almost nose to nose. “First, my mate would be free to do whatever she wanted, so long as she came home to our bed at night. Second, those men would deserve it. And, third, I’d be damn proud of you.”
“If I were your mate, you mean?”
“When you are my mate.”
For the second time that night it felt like someone had turned the thermostat up high, my skin burning with the need to be stroked and touched, my breath hitching in my chest as I imagined the man in front of me running his large hands up and down my body.
“You’ve gone all red again.”
“It’s hot in here.”
He gave me an arched eyebrow in response.
“Vin…”
“Yes, Grace?”
“I need some fresh air.” I jolted to my feet and ran out of the restaurant.
Chapter Fourteen
Vin
Where the hell is she? I scanned the street. No sign of Grace, but the soft breeze carried her scent to my nose. Setting off down the street I tracked her to a small, private park set between imposing townhouses. I pushed the wrought iron gate open, its hinges groaning in protest.
“Grace?”
A sharp intake of breath reached my ears.
I had been cursing myself all the way from the restaurant. I should have come clean, told her why I was here, what I did for a living. But training had held me back. Under no circumstances do you break cover. Ever. I just needed her to bear with me a little longer until I found the missing people and then I’d tell her everything.
Then she’d know I wasn’t really a useless, self-centered prick.
I followed the gasp to a maze in the center of the garden, the leafy-green walls towering over me and cocooning the world in a bubble. My wolf rolled around inside of me, virtually frolicking in the first glimpse of nature we’d seen since getting off the plane, but he was also clawing at me, distressed that our mate had run from us.
I could hear her breathing, just around the corner. I paused, not wanting to scare her. Then a muffled sob reached my ears.
I was standing in front of her in seconds. “What’s wrong?” Without thinking, I gathered her into my arms, wiping away her tears with my thumb.
She sucked in a deep breath, her chest heaving as she tried to hold back her outburst.
“Shh,” I murmured while stroking her back. Surely she didn’t hate the idea of being my mate this much?
“I can’t…I just…”
“It’s okay, let it all out. I’ve got you.”
She crumpled against me, all soft and warm and sweet.
I checked the urge to pull her even closer, to kiss away her sorrow. For fuck’s sake, I’m the reason she’s crying! Or the Shifter Council is, at least. “Is it really that bad?”
“What—?” She leaned back, blinking up at me, her lashes dark and spiked with tears.
“Us. Me. Does the thought of being my mate upset you this much?”
Her lips parted, and for a second I nearly seized the moment. Down boy. I settled for tugging her a little closer.
“You think I’m crying because of you?” she croaked out.
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“But you ran out of the restaurant. Away from me.”
She pushed away from me, fixing me with a glare that would have withered a lesser man. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, buster.”
“Your world shoul
d.” Seriously? Had I just said that? I wanted to give myself a swift kick up the ass! “That didn’t come out the way I’d—”
But it was too late. She was giving me the stink eye, the type women reserve for men they find particularly despicable. “Maybe it’s that simple for you, but I’ve got other things going on in my life. Important things. Things that I should be concentrating on rather than going on a silly fake date with you!”
“Silly fake date?” I parroted her words, but my mind had latched on to something else she had said. Things she should be concentrating on…
She’d stepped clear of my arms by now, her hands propped on her hips as she stared at me. “Yes! Silly! And fake!”
“Why is it silly to spend time with someone you like?”
“You don’t like me. Not really.”
My analysis of her earlier words flew out of the window. “You know what I’m thinking? What I’m feeling?”
“I know you don’t want me as your mate.”
“How do you know? Have I ever given you any reason to suspect I’m lying? Made you feel anything other than the most beautiful woman in the world?” I took a step toward her.
“Uh, no,” she stammered.
“And you are, by the way.”
“I am what?”
“The most beau—”
“Okay. Got it.” She flushed, taking a step backward. Her back connected with the hedge wall. “If all of what you’ve said is true, then why won’t you answer a straightforward question?”
Pride flooded me. My mate was spunky and smart; she wasn’t one to be deflected by flattery. “Do we have to know everything about each other straightaway?” I countered.
“What you do for a living isn’t a little thing—”
“Is it a deal breaker?” Because if it was, then fuck it, I’d tell her. It wasn’t as if she’d abducted the missing people. At her silence I pressed on. “Do you really believe I’m still the man I used to be? You didn’t even know me back then and you’re judging me.” And right there, as I said the words, I finally discovered the reason why I hadn’t broken cover—she’d judged me—my mate—and it stung.