by Vivian Arend
It was damn time, though, for the Grand Master Plan to be implemented. All along Evan’s goal had been to rejoin the two rival Whitehorse packs into one, amalgamating the dominant Takhini wolves with the more elusive Miles Canyon pack, and it was taking bloody forever to figure out how to go about it. There weren’t many places in the world that two packs sat in such close proximity to each other, and for good reason.
Territory wars were common in the old days, violence and bloodshed hidden in the more violent nature of the historic settling of the wilderness. Now the battlefields were more likely to involve spreadsheets and accountants than shotguns and hangings.
Evan didn’t mind a good fight. A physical challenge that would make his wolf side howl. But there was a subtle beauty in taking an opponent totally unaware—and that was far more possible in the financial world than while wearing his wolf skin.
Chase disappeared into a boarding house, and Evan relaxed. It was a wolf-friendly accommodation, but not one frequented by the pack. Which was good, because even though he’d teased for the details of the why of the lone wolf was visiting, Evan had failed to push for the other information the man hadn’t shared—what his second shifter form was.
But the tickling sensation at the back of his throat was enough to let Evan suspect it might be cat-based. Just what he needed dropping in at the pack house, driving all the less sensible members crazy. Not.
He didn’t even want to think about triggering his damn allergies. Evan pulled out a tissue and blew his nose, wondering if he’d turn into a sniffling, sneezing mess if he happened to be around when Chase changed.
Although—Métis. Damn. Evan pondered the logistics of the shifting business but got distracted by the buzz of his cell phone.
“Evan here.”
“You won the bid.” His accountant’s pleased tones spread happiness all the way to Evan’s toes. “And there were no second glances at all. Business as usual. You’re now official owner of three more shops in town. Congrats.”
Celebrations weren’t going to be scheduled until he’d gotten a little farther down the road on his plans, but it was a start. “What about the college? Any word on the housing project?”
The other man went on for a while, sharing details. Evan made mental notes as he strode back to the hotel the pack owned. The new landscaping they were finishing around the parking lot had turned the old landmark’s tired façade into a special feature, with sitting areas and fountains.
If he was going to put the place on the map, getting more of the seasonal visitors to stop at the Moonshine Inn and Pub was vital. Money was only part of the project—they had to keep traffic coming.
The wide glass doors slid open with a soft sigh as he approached, the tinkling water fountains in the lobby a refreshing contrast to wash away the street noise.
Behind the front desk, Caroline, his highly efficient head receptionist and personal assistant, raised her head and smiled. Evan made his way over, nodding at a few of the pack who were working as bellboys or cleaning staff to keep the place immaculate.
“You’ve had a couple calls you should return, and there are questions from both the bakery and the pizza place about your order for the party tonight. I’ve arranged for the rest of the supplies—drinks and such, but you’d better deal with the food. Oh, and just so you know, I’m not going to be at the pack party. I’ve made other plans. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I guess not. You want to drop by later, you’re always welcome.”
He checked the lobby, but there were no human visitors in sight. Well, no humans other than Caroline. He tugged her against his body and enjoyed the way she softened, accepting his kiss with enthusiasm. Hmm, yeah. She wasn’t his mate, but their arrangement as bed partners suited him fine. Evan slipped his fingers around her ass and held her close as their kiss deepened.
She smiled when he finally let her up for air. “You’re not getting your work done this way.”
“Maybe I need you to come and take a few notes in my office. That would be more efficient.”
Another itch tickled his nose, and he jerked back before he sneezed in her face. Damn, he must be coming down with a cold.
The heat that rose to her eyes was gratifying, though. “I’d love to join you, but there’s no one else on the front desk for an hour. You’ll just have to deal with the food for the party all by your lonesome.”
Evan sighed, tweaking her butt before he headed into the back. “I hate being efficient all by myself.”
She waved him off and returned to her organizing, and once again he speculated why she’d suggested they pair up. Having her as a partner had done wonders for his ability to finally get things happening in the pack—until she’d moved in with him he’d experienced constant disruptions from female wolves wanting to get a piece of him, or more accurately a piece of the pack.
The higher rank the wolf, the higher their partner was considered. Since Evan hadn’t had a sniff of a mate in all his nearly forty years, the arrangement with Caroline was working well, even with her a human. Especially since she was a human.
At least he knew she wasn’t using him to get ahead in the wolf game.
Evan dropped the papers she’d given him onto his desk and opened his computer, distraction taking over as he considered the next stage of taking all of Whitehorse under his control.
Chapter Three
Shelley lay back on the thick blanket and stared at the blue sky. “I’ve missed this.”
Caroline leaned over her, a shank of her blonde hair falling across her face. “Missed what? Me? Eating too many corn dogs and potato chips?”
“Of course I missed you.” Shelley sighed happily, pointing upward. “But I mean the light. It’s ten p.m. and it’s still light out. I feel as if I’ve got forever to get things accomplished when I’m up north.”
“It’s pretty, but it’s an illusion. You wait until the sky tells you to go to bed and you’ll end up a basket case within a week,” Caroline warned.
Shelley sat up and looked around. True to Caroline’s word, there weren’t any of the Takhini pack in the people congregating around them looking for spots on the grass beside the giant paddlewheeler that was now dry-docked and used as a museum. A few were wolves, but most of those were strangers—visitors or Miles Canyon pack, she wasn’t sure. They eyed her and Caroline with caution before giving them a wide berth, which was very weird in a way.
She was the last wolf ever to intimidate anyone. “You hear anything about the Canyon pack? What they’re up to? Who’s leading?”
Caroline’s head snapped her direction. “Why? You’re not thinking about joining them, are you?”
This wasn’t the time for getting into a detailed conversation. “Just curious, that’s all.” Although, if she did plan on joining a pack, the other side might be better than the pack of her youth.
Caroline jabbed her in the arm. “No way. No bloody way. You know Dad always warned us about them.”
Sheesh. “Warned what? That they were mean and to avoid them? Man, Caroline, it’s not as if I got such good treatment from the Takhini pack that I’m dying to return to the bosom of my childhood.”
Caroline opened her mouth then reluctantly shook her head. “I know. You got a raw deal, but things have changed. Evan’s a totally different Alpha than the one who was in charge when we were kids.”
Her suspicions tweaked again. “There’s something you’re not telling me about this Evan guy. You make it sound as if he’s some super-wolf.”
Caroline busied herself with the picnic basket, guilt written in her every move, and Shelley decided to drop the topic. Concentrate instead on the music, the visit with her sister. Issues like pack politics, of north and south packs, and being treated like a dog could wait. She needed to put her burdens aside for the night.
She squeezed Caroline’s shoulder, waiting until her sister looked up. “Let’s make a deal. Tonight we don’t try to discuss any of the million things we need to discuss, and we
stick to the fun things. Like…people watching.”
Caroline’s smile was spontaneous. “Who Would You Do?”
“Oh no…” Shelley laughed. “You aren’t going to make me play that again.”
Her sister’s grin got bigger. “It’s safe. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Unless you want to guess boxers versus briefs. That’s always entertaining, and a totally harmless way to get some kicks.”
“Until you dare me to go ask them what they’re actually wearing, it’s safe. At that point the danger levels become a little iffier.”
Shelley looked into the slowly gathering crowd. Checked out the guys. It was a teenager’s game, and she wasn’t a teen anymore. She’d learned a lot about her sexuality while in the lower latitudes getting her veterinary training. Wolves liked sex, and she hadn’t denied herself in that area. In many ways, it had been easier when there weren’t all kinds of questions and expectations involved with the sex.
And humans far out-numbered shifters in the south. Not like here where she figured a third of the population of the Yukon had shifter blood—whether they knew it or not.
Caroline pointed toward the street. “I’ll go first, even though it’s far tougher for me to actually find someone. I mean, I know a lot of them and adding in their personalities makes me go ick. See the man by the bike rack locking up the bike? Nom nom. He’s easy on the eyes.”
Dark-haired, obviously muscular. Shelley snorted. “You haven’t changed your type at all. I could have picked him for you.”
Caroline actually blushed. “Yeah, yeah. Now your turn. If you were going to get naked and sweaty with someone, you would pick…?”
Shelley twisted slowly, checking all the men. Some of the guys with partners, some alone. Some tall, some short, many muscular like Caroline’s stereotypical lust. The night was warm enough there was a lot of skin showing. Shorts, muscle shirts. Even a few groups of guys swaggering as they did a Venice Beach imitation and pumped out pushups and flexed in that “look at me” and yet casual kind of way.
Nobody caught her eye. Maybe they were all too blatant. She’d had enough of wolf posturing over the years. And while she liked a guy in shape, she didn’t need the nearly grotesque musculature of some of the pimped-out, pretty boys—
Oh my. Her gaze stuttered to a stop. He wasn’t typical. His hair was short and blond, nearly white it was so light. Unlike the posers, he was fully clothed, sturdy but lightweight cotton slacks covering his long legs, a button shirt with slightly worn patches on the elbows. Tall. Lean. A light shadow on his chin and cheeks not quite covering paler skin—as if he’d shaved recently for the first time in a while. The whole kinda, but not, scruffy thing totally did it for her.
Caroline turned to follow her gaze, frowning slightly. “I don’t know him.”
“As if you could know everyone in town.” Shelley’s mouth was actually watering. Okay, him not being a Whitehorse local was better than she had anticipated. Complications of dealing with pack aside, she wasn’t looking for a relationship.
But the drool factor on the man was seriously high.
“Okay. You have a winner. And yeah, your type has changed since you’ve been gone,” Caroline teased. “I thought you were going to marry a dark-haired prince and live in a castle.”
“Oh, sheesh, when I was eight. You were going to travel around the world. When’s that happening?”
Caroline shrugged. “Priorities change. I like it here in Whitehorse. I wanted to stay, and…I know you don’t want to talk about pack tonight, and that’s fine, but I have to mention again things have improved. The current leadership team is great. You will not have the troubles you had before. I guarantee it.”
Shelley felt that strange sensation repeat—the one that meant Carline was both telling the truth and keeping something from her. “Thanks. And we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
She snuck another glance at the man as he strolled toward the paddlewheeler, his gaze taking in everything around him. He seemed to be avoiding the crowds, clinging to the perimeter of the park. Even the way he moved made her heart race. He had a confident gait, yet somewhat like she’d seen in the wild animals she’d worked with. Nothing tame about him. Maybe he was an explorer, or from some South American country.
She wanted to go and ask him, and even that urge made her nervous. This was supposed to be a game, a teasing way to find out things about your friends.
But at that moment the idea of doing the silver stranger sounded very pleasant indeed.
Chase looked over the gathering, pissed off that he was slightly nervous at being around this many people. He’d never thought of himself as a real recluse, not even with living isolated in the bush, but it was clear that over the past year he’d lost a little more of his ability to cope with crowds.
Whatever. He focused on the parts he enjoyed—especially the laughter. Living amongst outcasts there wasn’t a lot of mirth in his life, and he savoured the current joie de vivre in the air.
And the kids. Running, playing. Wasn’t likely he’d ever have any of his own, but he didn’t mind a little dose of watching others’.
Laughter rang out on his left and caught his attention. Not far away, two women reclined side by side on a blanket, one blonde like the girl at the shop today, the other darker in colouring. He soaked in their happy tones, attempting to catch a glimpse of the brunette’s face, but the blonde was directly between them.
Chase hesitated for all of a minute before deciding what the hell. He turned and stalked around the edge of the park, deliberately not looking the women’s direction.
Hunting. Just like sneaking up on a deer, you had to make sure they didn’t know you were coming. He kept track with his peripheral vision to be sure she didn’t sneak away. More glimpses teased him—a flash of a smile, her gaze darting around the park. She was wary, cautious. He liked that she seemed more observant than the other woman, and he wondered if the brunette might be a shifter.
He’d know soon enough. He slipped into the thin row of trees on the park’s perimeter before changing direction. It only took a moment to cut back around the gathering by weaving through the parking lot. The cars made as good a cover as any rocks or boulders in the bush, and by the time he’d gotten into position he was smiling.
It was always enjoyable, getting his target within his sights.
And there she was. She had pulled her dark hair back and secured it with something, the heavy ponytail draped over one shoulder. Her skin wasn’t as dark as the shifters he’d met that afternoon, but there had to be First Nations blood in her family line. While his own skin tones were far more European, leaving him pale in the winter, her colouring made her skin glow as if with a light tan. The blonde said something and they both laughed again, and Chase soaked in the sound like a treasure. He could listen to her laugh all day long.
He had to assume the other noises she’d make in pleasure would be enjoyable as well.
He stepped forward, suddenly not sure why his feet were moving. There was still time to retreat if he wanted to, but then again, why? The worst that could happen was for her to turn him down. And the best?
There was still a lot of evening ahead of them.
He’d taken not even three steps forward before she turned and their gazes met. She had beautiful dark brown eyes, but it was the clear interest in them that fascinated him more than the colouring. She swallowed hard, hands tugging on her companion’s shirt. The blonde stopped speaking and swung to examine him as well, and now he was the prey instead of the predator.
Only the fact he’d never run away before kept him from fleeing in near terror.
From two women. Blast it.
Good thing Delton couldn’t see him now or he’d lose all points with the old-timer. He screwed up his courage and stopped at the side of their blanket.
“Evening. Are you having a good time?” Even in his own ears he sounded rusty and stinted.
The brunette nodded, her gaze trickling down the front of his shirt so
slowly it felt as if her finger ran over his naked skin.
The blonde shot to her knees, hand thrust forward. “Hi, I’m Caroline. This is my sister. Wonderful party, isn’t it? And you are…?”
So, she was the protective one. He accepted the handshake, surprised by the firmness of her grasp. “Chase Johnson. Just visiting for a few days, and in time to enjoy the event.”
He turned with anticipation, squatting to offering his hand to the other woman.
She swallowed again, slower to reach out and place her fingers in his. “Shelley. Welcome to Whitehorse.”
The touch of her palm to his was electrifying. All his anticipation totally underestimated the impact as her scent wrapped around him.
Wolf. Definitely wolf, but…not pack. There was a change that occurred when someone hung out with dozens of other shifters for long periods of time, and she didn’t have it. There was another scent clinging to her that made him nearly fall over backward.
Cat?
Impossible. The odds against there being another crossbreed exactly like himself were astronomical. He held her hand and her gaze, and allowed the confusion to wash away in the glow of exactly how good it felt to touch her.
“Ahem.”
Shelley stared at him, her mouth a small O of shock. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, and the answering flash of excitement in her eyes made his body thrill. Oh yes, this would be a good good night if he had any choice in the matter.
“Yoo-hoo, earth to Shelley.”
His fascinating woman didn’t move her gaze away while she answered her sister. “What?”
Caroline’s volume dropped to a mere whisper. “I want to know if this is one of those shifter things. Because if it is, which is what it looks like, and you two stripping and going for it is on the agenda, I suggest you remember where you are.”
The interesting fact that the human knew about shifters was kind of crowded over by the images she’d conjured up by the words “stripping and going for it”. Chase took another deep breath and allowed the sweet scent of Shelley’s arousal to soak into his system. “We can control it.”