Bang! Bang! Bang!
“I said go away.”
A key shifted in the lock.
“Get the”—He scrambled to pull the sheet over his naked body—“hell out of here!”
Two-hundred-and-sixty pounds of pissed-off werewolf barged into the room, swinging the door open wide. Once his lap was covered, Hayden exhaled heavily and leaned back against the headboard.
It was only Gabriel Park. Packmate, Hayden’s assigned secondary, and most trusted friend. He’d bailed Hayden out of so many sticky situations, the guy deserved a medal.
“I appreciate the personal wake-up call.” Hayden stretched. “But you could’ve used the phone and avoided the peep show.”
“Your phone’s off and downstairs security had a do-not-disturb order until noon.” Gabriel marched for the windows on the far side of the room. Seemed his jaw was set on a permanent clench setting. “She’s fired up and out for blood.”
She could only be the infamous Lydia Hyde, packmate and co-founder of Dean, Hyde, & Hammer, and managing editor of Eclipse magazine. She was six-hundred years old—four-hundred years older “and wiser” than Hayden—and she never let him forget it. Alongside Angus Dean, Hayden’s father and the San Francisco Wolf Pack’s Alpha, she’d built Dean, Hyde, & Hammer into one of the country’s most prominent law firms. She ruled the branches of the wolf pack’s companies with an iron fist, and since Hayden’s father passed last year, she’d taken it upon herself to make him feel like shit for what he didn’t do.
It was the same script, set on repeat: he wasn’t good enough to run the firm or rule the pack. According to Lydia, he never would be.
He was the son of the Alpha, true. But he was adopted. A turned wolf accepted into a born wolf’s home.
It was blasphemy to some. To him, the pack was the only home he’d ever known.
“She’s always out for blood. What’s new?” Hayden tunneled his fingers through his hair, the long waves tangling in his grasp. “Is that seriously the reason you busted in here?”
Gabriel jerked open the curtains, blinding Hayden with harsh rays of daylight. He picked up a pair of jeans Hayden had strewn on the floor and chucked them at him. “What happened to you this morning?” Gabriel fired.
Hayden tossed the jeans aside and scrubbed his hand over his face. “You banged on my door. I rolled out of bed.”
“It’s ten o’clock, Sleeping Beauty. You missed the banquet this morning.”
A mix of doubt and panic streaked through him.
“Hell, you say.” Leaning over the bed, Hayden snatched his cell off the bedside table. He waited for it to turn on and then flicked his thumb over the screen. “Fuck me.”
Ten-oh-three.
He was supposed to be the keynote speaker for a wolf pack breakfast honoring the guards of the pack. For the last year, they’d been on high alert, working double-time to rein in the rogue wolves who’d split from the pack the few months before the Alpha died. They’d made their stance known right away; they believed turned wolves were inferior to born wolves and shouldn’t be under the protection of the pack. Hayden’s father had vehemently believed otherwise. Four turned wolves had already been kidnapped from the city’s streets. Two of the victims were still missing. They’d amped up the search efforts, but a safe return wasn’t looking good.
The rogues’ agenda hit too close to home.
This morning, Hayden was supposed to put on a happy face. Boost morale. Give ’em a pep talk that’d breathe new life into the search for the rogue wolves and the turned wolves they’d abducted.
Even though he hadn’t been declared Alpha yet, he should’ve been there.
“Lydia covered for you,” Gabriel offered.
Of course she did. She always had the pack’s best interest at heart, and had always been there to pick up the pieces when he dropped them.
“I’m sure it was fine.” Regret soured Hayden’s stomach.
He’d have to make it up to them. During his induction ceremony at the end of the month, he’d have to honor the guards. Discuss their courage and tell tales of their heroism on the streets.
He’d have to do better—be better—from here on out to earn their respect.
He’d have to be a better man like his father.
“You’re in it deep this time, and not only with Lydia.” Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the blank television on the wall above the stone hearth. “The council is questioning your ability to take the role of Alpha seriously. They’re not sure you’re the best for the job.”
As Hayden shot upright, tiny stars danced in front of his eyes.
“What are they going to do? Ask someone else to be Alpha?”
Gabriel leveled him with a humorless stare. “Exactly.”
“They wouldn’t do that.” Even as he said the words, doubt trickled in. “They couldn’t. I’m Angus’s only son. According to pack law, the position of Alpha should pass to me.”
“There’s a clause in his will stating the council has the right to vote on another Alpha if the heir to the throne is deemed unworthy.”
“Unworthy?” The word escaped as a growl. “The council thinks I’m unworthy?”
How could they not see how much he did for them?
He’d give his life to any one of his packmates. Any. One. Of. Them.
Gabriel shrugged, his sport’s jacket tightening over his bulky shoulders. “They haven’t said the words officially, but they demanded Lydia hire someone to improve your public image before the ceremony. They want no more parties, no more drinking, no more—”
“Is that all they see when they look at me? A sloppy drunk?” Hayden interjected. “I may not have the desire to run the law office like my father did, but that doesn’t mean I’m unworthy. I’m a Dean, for Christ’s sake. He taught me to rule from the moment he took me into his house.” He flopped onto his back, the air in his lungs coming up short. “Once I’m Alpha, everything would change. It’d have to, and I’d gladly accept the responsibility”
Gabriel shot him a slanted glare as he strode to the door and swung it open wide. “You party hard, Hayden. You can’t deny it.”
“No, I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be the best damn Alpha the pack has ever seen.”
“I agree with you,” Gabriel said, nodding. “But my opinion doesn’t change anything. Lydia hired a columnist who specializes in improving celebrity images to do a piece on you for their December magazine.”
Hayden’s eyebrows pitched for his hairline. “I’m not exactly a celebrity, Gabriel.”
“You’re in the public eye.” His friend shrugged. “Between your father’s legacy, the money, parties, and the models you date, you’ve trained the spotlight on yourself. Anyway, this columnist is going to follow you around for a while. It’s not a choice, celebrity, public figure, or otherwise.”
“This is bull.”
“It’s not going to be every day,” Gabriel said, throwing up his hands. “Two weeks, maybe. A month tops.”
“Is the council really going to get rid of me because I like to have a good time every now and then?”
Gabriel stared.
“I don’t have time for this. The rogues need to be controlled now. Before they go too far. The council should be focused on them rather than my reputation.”
“I’m having the columnist meet you at the game tonight.” He went on as if he hadn’t heard what Hayden had said. Maybe it was because it really didn’t matter. The wheels were already rolling in a different direction. “I already sent her editor the ticket to get into the pack’s luxury suite. You can spend the game chitchatting. From what I hear, she’s into fashion.”
Hayden suppressed a growl. Game nights were his nights. He drank cheap beer, screamed at the refs, and rooted for the red and gold.
“You’re determined to ruin the game for me, aren’t you?” Hayden bit out.
“What do I care if your Niners lose? I’m a Cardinal fan.” Gabriel smirked. “Anyway, she’
s going to get the real Hayden Dean story—minus the hairy wolf details, of course—and then she’s going to write an article, painting a better picture.”
Hayden swallowed down the bile rising at the back of his throat. “And what does the council plan to do with this article?”
“It’s going public, like every other article the press has ever done on you,” he said simply. “Only this one will have a good spin. It’ll be posted to the e-entertainment website, Celeb Crush, first, and if Lydia thinks it’s good enough, it’ll go to print next month in Eclipse. Thing is, Hayden, from the outside, it looks as if you’re teetering between rock-star status and disaster zone. The council merely wants to rebuild a bit of that image before they declare you Alpha.”
Hayden stared, unmoving, his mouth hardened into a straight line. “Do you think there’s anything wrong with my public image, or how that affects my ability to rule the pack?”
“As your friend, I say no. This is your life. Live how you want, doing what makes you happy. As your secondary, I say you need to get your shit together before they steal the Alpha seat from you and hand it over to someone God-awful.”
He’d sacrifice himself to the pack before that happened.
Looking on the bright side though, if he had to be shadowed by someone from the magazine, maybe he could have some fun with the hot little writer. He could give her a real sneak peek into his life…and maybe, if he was lucky, his bed.
He struggled to suppress a grin. “So what’s her name?”
“Melina Rae,” Gabriel said, as he strode into the hall.
Hayden’s bed disappeared beneath him as the sound of the familiar name hit his ears. He’d tried to bury the tantalizing memory of that temptress beneath a year’s worth of partying and dating other women. Judging from the scorching pinpricks of unease spreading through Hayden’s gut, it hadn’t worked.
There was no way he could allow Melina Rae to hang around for a month. Her mouth-watering scent had followed him into his dreams, and had messed up his sniffer for days.
Not happening.
Nuh-uh.
No way in hell.
…
Melina held up a ticket to a private luxury suite at Levi’s Stadium, and fought to hide her grimace.
49er versus Cardinal game.
Something wasn’t right, Melina thought. She hated the Whiners. Anyone who spent more than a few minutes with her during football season knew she’d grown up in a Raider Nation family. A tiny Raider flag was propped in the desk-supply caddy on her desk, for crying out loud. Beyond all that, Sylvia Reinhart, editor-in-chief of Celeb Crush, never gave gifts. Ever.
Melina waved the ticket in front of her face. “Thanks…I haven’t been to a Niner game in ages.”
Because they sucked.
“They’re not a gift, Ms. Rae.” Leaning over her cluttered desk, Sylvia Reinhart pushed her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose and glared. “It’s your next assignment.”
“I’m sor—sorry?” Melina felt her face scrunch. “Is someone huge going to the game tonight?”
If she landed an interview with someone like Ashton Kutcher or supermodel Marisa Miller, it could make her career.
“Listen, whatever you do, you can’t screw this up,” Sylvia said, as if to herself. She ripped her glasses of her nose and tossed them onto a pile of papers to her left. “You got it?”
“You say that as if I’ve screwed up before.”
Melina’s new column in the monthly e-magazine, “A Month in a Celeb’s Shoes,” required her to get the nitty-gritty details of whichever celebrity she featured, and then spin those details to make him or her sound like one of Hollywood’s angels. She’d make cheaters appear loyal, and scoundrels become wholesome.
Apparently, it was her secret talent.
There was no celebrity image she couldn’t twist or re-tool.
“You’ve had the golden touch this past year,” Sylvia said, “but this assignment comes from corporate.”
Oh, shit.
Sylvia rested her elbows on the desk. “You nail this article and it’ll be featured in Celeb Crush and Eclipse.”
“Eclipse?” Melina’s hands went numb. “It’ll actually go to print?”
“Do I have your attention now?”
Melina plopped into the chair across from Sylvia’s desk. “Who am I meeting?”
“The assignment is to make this guy look good. No matter what.” Sylvia paused, and bit into her lower lip. “If you can pull this off, the people at Eclipse want you to work for them. They said to consider this your interview.”
The air sucked out of Melina’s lungs on a meep! She placed her hand over her heavily thumping heart and fought to catch her breath. “This is my dream. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ll do it. I’ll put everything aside. I’ll work overtime. I’ll make this guy shine like a freaking diamond if that’s what the editors at Eclipse want.”
If it meant landing her dream job, she’d make a steaming pile of dog crap look good.
“Fine. It’s settled then. You’ll have to write the article quickly. I want to see the first draft in two weeks to make sure you’re on track. Final copy goes out at the end of the month.” Sylvia sighed and leaned back in her chair, nailing Melina with piercing emerald eyes. “As long as you understand the stakes, I’ll tell them you’re on board.”
“Thank you so much,” Melina gushed, slapping the ticket against her legs. “I won’t disappoint you, or Celeb Crush.” She was chomping at the bit to find out whom she’d cover. There were so many celebrities who could use the magazine to improve their image. Britney Spears…Miley Cyrus… Dare she hope for someone hunky like Colin Farrell? “So?”
Sylvia’s lips twitched. “Next month’s column will be titled, ‘A Month in Hayden Dean’s Shoes.’”
Melina’s stomach fell. “Hayden Dean.”
“The one and only.”
She’d been right earlier. To get her dream job, she’d have to make a steaming pile of dog crap look good. Only Hayden Dean didn’t look like dog crap. As a matter of fact, he had the classic good looks of a Greek god.
Dog crap, she reminded herself, as she marched out of Sylvia’s office, football game ticket in hand. Hot—really freaking hot—steaming, dog crap.
Chapter Three
Standing square on the fifty-yard line, Hayden introduced players from the last thirty years into the 49ers Hall of Fame. He waved and smiled for the cameras, and shook hands with the 49er Foundation Board of Directors and honorable officers.
His father had donated his time and charity to his favorite team, using Angus Dean Investment Services, and passed along his love of football to Hayden. Now, one year after Angus’s death, Hayden was honored to accept an award in his father’s name.
After his duties were finished, he swept into the wolf pack’s luxury suite. He expected Melina to be waiting for him. Silky dark hair falling over her shoulders. Sexy brown eyes. The petite little thing was a vixen, haunting his dreams.
The suite was empty. Not even the sight of his favorite food and drinks arranged on a long table against the wall to his right could soothe the disappointment souring his stomach. The wolf pack had followed his orders to the letter. Nachos with chili and jalapenos. Mini hot dogs. BBQ Sausage links. They even got the beer fountain right.
His stomach growled fiercely, but he couldn’t eat.
Not until she showed up and he could put his anxiety to rest.
The first quarter went by in a blur. The 49ers were at the top of their game. The crowd roared, rising to their feet, swinging red-and-gold T-shirts over their heads. But Hayden couldn’t celebrate the two early touchdowns with them. He stood near the back of the suite, rods of tension hardening his body to the point of pain. He was going to need a massage after this; he’d have knots for days.
All this from merely thinking about Melina coming back into his life, even if it was only for a month.
Why couldn’t he have met her at a different time, under different ci
rcumstances? During their interview at Starbucks last year, he’d tried to play it cool, the way he did with every other woman. But she didn’t fall for any of his lines or believe any of his bullshit. She seemed to look right through him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt as if he could be himself. As if he could tell her anything. He’d felt a spark of…something…between them, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. It was damn strange. Acting on the primal impulse howling in his gut, he’d invited her to the Silverlight awards.
Terrible timing.
Hours before the awards show, a rogue wolf had kidnapped their first victim: a turned wolf from the Alpha’s private council. Hayden’s father recovered a note left behind in his office. It was a declaration of war on turned wolves and non-shifters associated with the wolf pack.
Inviting Melina, a non-shifter, to a very public event like the Silverlight Awards would’ve been interpreted as Hayden’s official stance on the issue. It would’ve put a target on his back, and the Alpha’s. More importantly though, Melina would’ve been an irresistibly sexy bleep on the rogues’ radar. They would’ve gone after her—he knew it with every fiber of his being. And although he’d only known her a few short hours, he felt something for her. He was too involved to risk her safety.
To keep things neutral, Angus had demanded that Hayden choose a born shifter from the pack as his date instead.
He’d chosen another date to keep her safe, to keep that precious heart beating in her chest.
He hadn’t called to cancel his date with her. How would he have explained it? “Hey, I can’t take you to the Silverlight Awards or my Alpha werewolf father could be targeted by a group of rogue wolves. Oh yeah, one more thing. If you’re associated with me, they’ll probably hunt you down and rip your heart out. Sorry.”
Who would believe such a thing?
He could nearly feel the burn of the slap across his cheek now.
He’d tried to brush off her memory as best he could, though it’d been damn hard.
Now, with his Alpha worthiness in question and the rogue wolves gaining strength, he couldn’t, under any circumstances, let Melina get too close to him.
The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) Page 2