Wolf's Temptation (Caedmon Wolves Book 7)

by Kirk, Ambrielle

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, dropping my bags in a chair.

  He smiled. “Alessia, you’re earlier than I expected.”

  The last time I saw him had been last night when I’d walked in late after my encounter with Dawson. At the time, he’d been sitting by the fireplace with his laptop on his knees, pretending to work. Nothing ever happened after six in the evening in his mind. I knew he’d been worried about me and had waited up.

  I kissed his cheek. “Tuesdays are slower than usual.”

  “I thought you were overbooked,” he said.

  I’d used that excuse last night instead of telling him that I’d met a shifter who strongly believed that I was a witch. The fact was, I was overbooked, but it hadn’t been the reason I was late.

  “I am, but rest is good for the mind and body. Are you cooking?”

  I peeked at the gas stove where he had a couple of steaks cooking in a cast iron skillet. A pan of glazed asparagus sat on the back burner, and there was something else in the oven.

  “You look surprised.” His jade green eyes held a hint of a tease, and the corners of his lips turned up in a grin. His auburn hair was already showing signs of grey. His skin was pale and in stark contrast to the liveliness shining from his eyes.

  “Hmmm. I sense a common occurrence here. The last time you cooked was last year right around this same time…right around my birthday. In fact, you cooked the same exact meal on my birthday.” I gazed at him through my narrowed gaze. “What’s up?”

  “It is a little early, but I thought I’d surprise you early for your birthday. Plus, I need to…speak with you about something.” The spark in his eyes left and he poked at the steak with a fork.

  “I kind of have a thing tonight to go to.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You mean with Donna? Is she over her stomach bug yet?”

  I swallowed. “Donna’s all better.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Do you think you can maybe reschedule for another time with her?”

  “Um…Dad, no. I can’t really reschedule something like this.”

  “Okay. What time will you be heading out?”

  “I have less than an hour to get ready. There was traffic on the freeway.” His growing frown made me feel guilty. “You know what? Maybe I can spare ten minutes.”

  This was the first time in a while that I had seen him so worried.

  “No, you go ahead. We’ll touch base later,” he said. “I’m glad you’re going out more and beginning to find your way…and your independence.”

  “I’m trying to, at least. I think I might be ready to start my search for a new place somewhere between here and my art gallery. I’ve been saving a lot of money from just staying here with you.”

  He smiled. “You’ve been investing your money well, too.”

  “I have a great mentor and dad.”

  “And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.” His demeanor had changed for the better. I’d make it up to him tomorrow night, but this was one opportunity I couldn’t miss.

  He wiped his hands on a towel. “Well, I don’t want to make you late. I’ll put your plate up just in case you’re hungry when you get back.”

  I smiled. “So what exactly did you want to talk with me about?”

  He glanced down at his wristwatch. “It would take more time to explain than we have right now. You go on and have fun.”

  I gave him a hug before grabbing my bag from the chair.

  He called out to me as soon as I crossed the threshold into the next room. “Alessia?”

  I turned.

  “Be very careful. Some people aren’t what or who they seem.”

  “I know,” I said quietly and headed upstairs to my room.

  Chapter Ten

  Alessia

  We agreed to meet in an environment with no wolves. And he’d made me promise that I wouldn’t lead him into a witch’s trap. Obviously, he still held some notion that I wasn’t telling the truth about not knowing any others like me.

  There was a bus station on the edge of Sandy Forks, a neighboring town where we agreed to meet. We would hang out in the downtown area where the territory was supposed to be neutral. According to Dawson, the possibility of encountering another wolf shifter was slim.

  As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed an electric-blue sports car sitting off by itself. A male figure leaned against the driver’s side, and I recognized him immediately. Dawson. As I wheeled my car to a stop in the parking space, he pushed off the door once he saw me and straightened his stance.

  By the time I turned off the engine, he’d already approached my car. My windows were tinted dark, so I was half certain that he couldn’t see me fidgeting with my hair and fixing my clothes. I shoved my keys down into my handbag, grabbed my ankle-length leather coat, and then said a silent prayer that everything would go right for once. I still had to remind myself that all this was a mutual arrangement for the purposes of information exchange. All I had to do was focus on that one goal.

  Finally, I opened the door and he helped me out of the car. On any other night, I would have turned on my “I can do it myself” attitude, only I was genuinely interested in knowing Dawson with his conflicting vibes and emotions, almost more than I wanted to trace my own heritage.

  “You look really beautiful,” he said, grinning and checking out my attire from head to toe.

  At the last minute, I’d chosen a fitted leather vest, a black mini-skirt, and decorative fishnet leggings. On my feet, I wore a pair of three-inch-heeled leather boots that had already been broken in a few times.

  I shrugged. “Thanks. I’ve had the outfit awhile, but it’s my first time wearing it. I don’t really own frilly dresses.”

  “This suits your personality, which I think is beautiful as well,” he added.

  My gaze worked over his clothing under the moonlight. He wore fitted dark denim jeans and a black blazer. He looked sharp, handsome, and suddenly, I was convinced that I couldn’t have picked a better man to spend tonight with. “I hope I’m not underdressed,” I said.

  “Not at all.”

  He shoved off his blazer, revealing a dark grey graphic tee and a leather belt with the Caedmon insignia engraved on the brass buckle. My breathing stalled when I took note of the way the tee hugged his taut chest and muscular arms. Those same arms had held me after I’d passed out in the parking lot, and then again briefly when I came to in my gallery. I wanted to touch him again, even with the knowledge that some of his emotions took me off guard.

  “The temperature will drop another twenty degrees by the time we get back. I can feel it,” he said with his face lifted to the breeze. “I’m glad you brought your coat.”

  “Right now, I’m hot. Maybe a little nervous. The air feels good against my skin, though.”

  His gaze roamed across me again. “The winter weather doesn’t affect me in the same manner. If you get too cold, let me know and I’ll keep you warm.”

  Instant warmth swelled in my chest and a hot blush crossed my face. I was so confused now that I couldn’t tell if the lust I felt was from my own emotions or emotions I’d drawn from him.

  “Um… It’s okay if I leave my car here, right?” I asked.

  “Sure. I’ll take care of that.” He walked up to a meter and slipped some coins inside.

  He directed me to his Maserati and opened the passenger door for me. “Ready?” The grin that followed next would have convinced a nun to unveil.

  I slipped into his car and buckled my seatbelt. Everything smelled of him, and I almost got carried away by it.

  “Have you eaten supper yet?” he asked, revving the engine.

  “No.”

  “I haven’t eaten since this morning either. I got caught up with some stuff at work. How about we refuel and then start the fun?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “What do you like?”

  “Nothing too heavy. Or f
ormal. Someplace laid back,” I said. “And on neutral ground, of course.”

  “Got it.”

  “No wolves,” I added. I wasn’t sure I could restrain myself with a dozen other shifters. What happened at the party the other night had been a good reminder that I tried to avoid crowds, if at all possible.

  “Don’t worry. I know just the place.”

  On the way, we both avoided the important stuff and kept our conversation light and flirty. Putting my real issues on the backburner for just a little bit put me at ease. When we weren’t engaged in conversation, Dawson drove like my dad: over the speed limit. I wondered if he even realized he was going so fast. Was he just really anxious to find out the scoop on me, or just that hungry? By the time we reached downtown, I had regained my comfort level.

  The sun had gone down about an hour ago, but that didn’t keep the tourists or late-night adventurers off the streets. Neither did the cold, apparently. Small white flurries floated in the sky, but by the time the flakes reached a hard surface, they dissolved in the humid air. We pulled up in front of the door to what looked like a cozy eatery. I bundled myself in my coat while Dawson handed the valet attendant the keys.

  “How’s this?” Dawson asked as we approached the front door of the eatery.

  “27 Lions…,” I read. “…bistro and bar.” I couldn’t contain my laughter.

  “You said no wolves, right?” He winked just before he opened the door for me.

  “I kind of like you. I can deal with one for tonight,” I said and stepped inside the warmth of the restaurant.

  The door greeter seated us immediately at a table towards the back. My stomach grumbled when I got a glimpse of the menu. I picked it up and glanced over the selections while the waiter talked about the featured dishes.

  “Can I start you two off with something to drink?” the waiter finally asked.

  Dawson glanced at me expectantly.

  “I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” I replied.

  “And for you, sir?”

  “The same, thank you.”

  “This place is nice,” I said, looking around at the black and red velvet curtains draped sporadically around the room to give the guests some semblance of privacy. The bar was the most congested area, where some patrons sat watching a football on the screen. The crowd inside didn’t seem so overwhelming since the table we shared was located a comfortable distance away from the source of the attention.

  “I’ve been here a few times with friends.”

  “Have you brought any girlfriends here?” I asked.

  “No, just you.”

  I fumbled with one of my mood rings and then asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” I felt a little embarrassed and nosy for asking, but sometimes you just have to ask.

  He leaned back in his chair and looked at me inquisitively.

  “It’s all right. You can tell me,” I continued. “I’m not the jealous type.”

  “Contrary to what some people believe about me, I’m not that kind of man. No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “What do some people believe about you?”

  “That I’m a womanizer and a heartbreaker,” he said.

  “Well, are you?”

  “No. I’m always upfront about what I want from someone, that includes my past encounters with women. What I can’t control is when they become attached and expect more.” He smiled, sheepishly.

  “You must be something else in the bedroom,” I noted and then directed my gaze to the condiments on the table as a heated blush spread across my face.

  He grinned. “Depends. Will you be the judge of that?”

  I shifted in my chair and ran my palm against the back of my neck. “I think we’ve gone a little off topic.”

  “Really? Because this date is all about you…you know that, right?”

  I could’ve gotten lost in his dreamy blue eyes. Warmth rose up through my core and a feeling I hadn’t entertained in months crept over me. Lust. Was he intentionally trying to seduce me? He had succeeded.

  Dawson’s nose flared and he chuckled softly. “No worries. We’ll take it slow tonight.”

  He slid a leather box across the table, about half the size of an eyeglass case.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “A gift.”

  “For who?”

  He smiled and pushed the box close to my fingers.

  “You don’t have to gift me with anything.”

  “I wanted to. I saw it while I was out visiting with a client today and I thought it would look nice on you.”

  Curious as to what he’d gotten me, I opened the lid to discover a charm bracelet with several red and black trinkets already linked to it. “Thank you.” I lifted it out of the box and examined it further. “It matches my necklace.”

  “Happy early birthday,” he said.

  “You remembered?”

  He nodded. “You mentioned it yesterday. I just couldn’t wait until next Monday to give it to you.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to become twenty-five.”

  I held my wrist out as he clasped the bracelet around it.

  “What worries you the most?” He held onto my hand and eventually his palm slid over mine. “Tell me. I know it’s soon, but let’s put it this way, I’m the only stranger you can trust.”

  I sighed. “And I’m normally very wary of strangers, so it says a lot that I’m here with you.”

  “I can be whatever you need me to be. Stranger. Friend. Protector. Eventually, we would have met, but we met at the exact right time for the right reasons.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  I swallowed down my reservations and fingered the trinkets on the charm bracelet. “On my twenty-fifth birthday, I’ll inherit everything that belonged to my mom.”

  “That’s pretty standard when a child loses a parent,” Dawson said.

  “This is not as standard as you think. For wolves and maybe even humans, it’s easier. You inherit tangible things, like money, homes, and other material items. The daughter of a witch blossoms into her craft. Twenty-five is the average age when witches gain the most power.”

  “So you knew all along that you were a witch?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not a witch. I have witch’s blood. There is a difference.”

  His expression hardened and he appeared to be processing the information. “Then how do you explain what you can do?”

  “I’m an empath. That’s what my condition is called. I feed off emotions and use them to move matter.”

  “Like last night when you captured the dust in your hand, and at the party when you unhinged the painting,” he said.

  “How?” he questioned further.

  I lowered my gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you certain? Maybe you’re using your craft somehow without realizing it.”

  I pressed my lips firmly together then frowned.

  “I’m skeptical because I’ve seen a witch in action before,” Dawson explained. “She chanted gibberish and used her powers to move matter.”

  I smiled. “I don’t know any gibberish, but I won’t deny anymore that I have witch’s blood. I’ve been collecting articles on my condition ever since I could read, by the way.”

  “And what did you find?”

  The waiter appeared over our table at that moment and placed some coasters, along with our cocktails, on the table in front of us.

  “Are you ready to order? Would you like to start with appetizers?”

  “Alessia?”

  Dawson looked flustered, impatient. I could tell he wanted the waiter to go away.

  I picked up my menu and glanced at the side with the appetizers. “I’ll have the zucchini rolls.”

  The waiter jotted something down on his pad and waited for Dawson’s response. Reluctantly, Dawson picked up the menu.

  “I’ll take three half-pound burgers. Medium-rare. Plain please, no toppings. Toast the buns. You can put the
pickles on the side.”

  “Do you want this as the appetizer or main course?” the waiter looked shocked and confused.

  “Yeah…as the appetizer. Is something wrong?” Dawson asked.

  “Um…no. Okay. Three half-pound burgers, medium-rare, plain, buns toasted, with the pickles on the side.”

  When the waiter left, I took a sip of my cocktail and then said, “Someone’s very hungry.”

  “I could eat more than that, but he said appetizer, so…”

  “It must get expensive to feed your wolf.”

  “It most certainly is,” he said.

  “I can only see his aura around you. He’s gentle, laid-back, and loyal. Maybe one day I’ll see you in your true form.”

  A spark of hope flashed in Dawson’s eyes. “You will.”

  I liked Dawson a lot, but it was too soon to form an attachment to him. Especially if I didn’t know if we’d last beyond what he had agreed to help me with.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I don’t personally know a lot of people. I never let anyone get close because I’m afraid something might happen and I’ll just lose them,” I said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “My memories come and go sporadically and there’s not that many of them, but something happened to me that night. My father used a cadaver dog to find me in the woods. It was raining and storming really badly. When they found me, they said I was passed out cold, and that my skin was hot and smoke was literally pouring out of my pores.”

  “Were you in the fire maybe?”

  “No. Even the doctors and investigators confirmed that there weren’t any indications that the fire harmed me. They think I was somehow affected by a lightning strike, but like I said…I can’t remember much of anything. What I do remember doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  “That sounds painful.”

  I swallowed. “It wasn’t a direct strike. If it were, I would likely be dead. The investigators said it was more like a lightning splash that affected me.”