by Mardi Ballou
Lilith tore herself away. Mooning over Mr. Inaccessible Alpha would be a sure path to depression. She needed to get to work and help Dominique find him a perfect match—and, no, it wasn’t her. But her hormones raced and her heart yearned. She opened her arms wide to the universe and invited love to come her way.
***
Rafe Graywolf raced through the woods. The underbrush snapped and low branches tore at his face as he tried to outrun the frustrations of a long, sleepless night. If only he could stay in wolf form and turn his back on his complex responsibilities.
At age thirty-three in human reckoning, he was young to be an alpha, but he expected the pressures that went with the job would age him fast. Though his family had a long tradition of leadership, he’d assumed it would be years before he had to take his turn. The sudden, unexpected death of the previous alpha, his Uncle Jack, had started the pack’s downward spiral. Then, under the acting alpha’s regime, the pack had responded weakly to two bouts of aggression and lost a hefty percentage of their funds in bad investments.
With everything falling apart, there was no way Rafe could have turned down the elders when they’d tracked him to the East Coast and begged him to return home. The way they’d put it, only he could save the pack. The call of family and tradition had seduced him away from his very satisfactory life as visiting professor at a major university. As a guest of an old Massachusetts pack, he’d been able to limit participation in shifter politics to a level he found tolerable.
All that changed when the Wentworth delegation had arrived and guilted him into becoming the pack alpha.
He’d returned home. In the two years he’d been away, the pack’s situation had deteriorated almost beyond recognition. Teeth clenched, he’d set to work. In a short time, things began to improve. He even allowed himself to make tentative plans to return to the East Coast and resume his interrupted life there.
But Rafe hadn’t paid enough attention to the details of his agreement with the pack. How had he overlooked the loophole naming him alpha for life? The real clincher for him was the thin veneer that separated success and disaster for his pack. After he learned of the horrors they would face if he didn’t remain to follow through on the changes he’d made, he couldn’t let them down.
Which led him to where he was today—signed up with a dating service to find a mate. Of all the ridiculous scenarios he’d ever imagined getting caught up in, none compared to a dating service. For a mate! According to the elders, he was supposed to settle down with this woman for life. It was the wolf way. Grrrr. He’d seen other good men laid low by the life mate thing and sworn it wouldn’t happen to him—at least not until he was too old to care. But his uncle had started on him by invoking flattery and guilt. In Rafe’s hands, his paws, whatever, lay the precarious future of the Wentworths. They needed to publicize that his appointment was alpha was for life—just like a prison sentence for a major crime—or their enemies would pounce.
To achieve maximum effectiveness, he needed to share his throne with the mate. The fate of his pack hung by this thread.
If he heard those words once more, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. Just then a piercing whistle set his nerve endings on edge. The microchip implant he’d agreed to rendered him on call to his pack even when he’d taken his wolf form and was desperate for solitude. If they were once again summoning him to deal with a trivial matter, fur would fly. On the other hand, they all knew the story of the boy who cried wolf—
Swallowing a groan of frustration, Rafe returned to the designated meeting place, also the place where he’d stowed his gear, assumed an aggressive stance and glared. In moments, two messengers flanked him. They pawed the ground and emitted three short barks, signaling that they’d need to transform back to human form in order to convey their message. Crap. Rafe had been hoping they could simply communicate whatever the hell was going on in wolf form, after which he’d take off again. The need to revert to human form meant the message was complicated or that he’d need to handle the current crisis pronto. Maybe both.
Rafe completed his transformation first. He’d managed to pull on his jeans before the other two realized they didn’t have clothes. Judging from the nervous expressions on both men’s faces, neither had been too eager to come after him and he could see their nakedness added to their unease. He looked from one to the other. Two brothers, barely out of their teens, John and Keith Volpe. With a grunt, he tossed them extra clothes and shoes from his Jeep and waited till they’d dressed before speaking.
“What is it, guys?”
“You have an appointment,” John mumbled.
“An appointment? With who? The governor of friggin’ California?” It had better be at least that important.
The two brothers looked at each other. Evidently, Keith had drawn the short straw and had to talk next.
“Don’t know. Your assistant told us to get you. She said you need to clean up. Something about Fangly…”
Fangly? What the hell is Fangly—
Then he remembered. That was part of the name of the matchmaking agency the elders had set him up with, like he was some weeping wallflower who needed a matchmaker to get him a date.
He started to growl his refusal to go back with them, but stopped when he saw John and Keith cringe. Rafe didn’t consider terrifying the young part of the job description for alphas. Besides, his current mess wasn’t the messengers’ fault. Determined to assert his identity and have “no” mean “no” to his people, he’d make sure the right people got the message.
Rafe dismissed the young brothers, who looked relieved to go on their way alone. He envied them and their freedom.
Then, determined to reassert his own, Rafe got into the Jeep and drove back to his office.
When he arrived, the full band of elders awaited him.
August pounced first. “Where have you been? We had to twist arms to get you an intake appointment on such short notice.” He looked Rafe up and down, seeming to take issue with his well-worn jeans and flannel shirt. “You can’t go to Fangly, My Dear dressed like that. First impressions count.”
Rafe folded his arms in front of him. “I don’t recall agreeing to meet with Fangly, My Dear or anyone else tonight. And I’m going on the record now, when I’m out for a run, don’t interrupt me for anything less than a major disaster—at least of six-point earthquake magnitude.”
The four elders looked at each other as if acknowledging they were dealing with a dimwit. Benedict Volpe put a reassuring arm around August’s shoulders. “We have discussed this. We realize that, as alpha, your plate is full and you haven’t given top priority to the matter of a mate. But the time has come. If you don’t choose a suitable mate, adversaries will have an opening to attack you.”
Rafe could feel his mouth curl with contempt. “We’ve been through this, numerous times. We all agree that after everything I’ve accomplished in a short time to pull the Wentworths back from the brink of disaster, potential rivals have no strong platform.”
All four elders shook their heads. “Rafe, you’ve accomplished wonders so far. But, as you young folks say, it’s time for a reality check. There are packs just waiting to devour us and our resources. Granted, you put out the initial fires with your first round of action. You still have to realize, my boy, that there’s no time to sit back and take stock. That was just a first round and our enemies are far from defeated. We’re still vulnerable to hostile takeover, especially once the enemy gets to know you. Your not having a life mate is a major chink in our armor rival packs can exploit.”
“I do not need to go to some dating service,” he gritted out.
“We’re not talking about you escorting some girl to a party,” Benedict pointed out. “A life mate is serious. You haven’t found her on your own and we’re running out of time. This service, Fangly, My Dear, has an excellent reputation. Though they haven’t been in business long, they’ve made several noteworthy matches.”
“For losers,” R
afe hissed. “Do you really want the Wentworths to get the reputation of needing some service to get us dates?”
August shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong, Rafe. Fangly, My Dear is a high-class, cutting-edge operation. An expensive one. Our trusting them with the search for your life mate shows we’re up to date with current trends and we’re not afraid to invest in our future. It’s more proof the Wentworths are top-notch all the way. Now, go change.”
Rafe wondered what it would take to win any battle with August and the other elders. “My going to Fangly, My Dear would be one of the five most ridiculous ideas I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s a done deal,” Benedict claimed.
“What does that mean?” Rafe asked.
“It means,” August said, “we’ve already leaked the news of your going to the community.”
Rafe felt a throb in his right temple. “On whose authority?”
August didn’t waver. “Mine.”
Marvelous. So much for any illusions as to who was in charge. “This wasn’t your best idea,” he muttered so just the two of them heard.
The older man shrugged. “Nothing else seemed to work. Go. Change into one of those elegant suits you brought back from the East Coast.”
“I’m not changing.”
At least August seemed to recognize when to fold so Rafe could hold on to a few delusions. Fifteen minutes later, August, Benedict and Rafe were on their way to Fangly, My Dear in August’s Cadillac. Rafe thought with longing of the woods he’d been running through just a short time before.
***
In addition to reading up on the Wentworths online, Lilith and Dominique read up on shifters, especially the population in the Bay Area. “The more I read, the more fascinating Rafe sounds,” Dominique said. “Though I still think this situation is too big for one person to handle, something’s come up—and I need to leave you alone to handle Rafe. You’re the only one I’d trust to take him on single-handedly.”
“What’s come up? Is it something serious with your family or Antoine?” Lilith knew Dominique didn’t walk away from her commitments for anything less than life or death.
She shook her head. “Nothing like that. Antoine’s running into some snags with his half-way house for new vampires project. After one near disaster, he finds it’s not as easy as he’d thought to get them started on a social life—and he’s actually asked for help. This is one offer I can’t refuse. I know I can count on you.”
“Just another day at a big city dating service. Ho hum.” Lilith tried to keep a straight face, but she knew her pretended casualness wouldn’t fool Dominique. Lilith’s sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting Rafe had her nearly bouncing off the walls. She had to keep reminding herself that this was work. Talking with him tonight was just part of her job. Right. On the other hand, she owed it to Dominique to remember she was a professional.
Determined to keep a wide emotional distance from Rafe, Lilith nonetheless wished she could have slipped back to her condo to change into clothes that would make her feel beautiful and desirable. Since she couldn’t, she made do by snagging a few minutes to work on her hair and makeup. Next, she practiced asking the familiar intake questions, lowering her usual speaking voice to sound sexy. She also reminded herself that this was business and she was a professional.
Rafe was late. Watching the clock pass the appointment time, Lilith couldn’t sit still. Her nerves were strung out, on the verge of snapping. When the phone rang, she jumped. Too agitated to answer—what if he was calling to cancel?—she let voice mail pick up. She held her breath until she’d listened to the message. August, Rafe Graywolf’s uncle, said they’d been delayed but should be at the office in the next fifteen minutes.
Lilith listened to the message three times. Rafe wasn’t coming alone. He’d have his uncle with him. Of course that fit with everything she’d read about family being the foundation of shifter society.”
Lilith thought about her own family. Much as she loved them, she couldn’t picture going for a dating service intake interview with any of her relatives—especially from her dad’s side. The image of one of her cousins shifting into hyena form during the intake gave her a much needed laugh and helped her relax a bit—at the perfect time.
Just then, the shifter group arrived—three mature men and one total hottie—burst into the office suite. All her talk to herself about caution and the impracticality of becoming interested in Rafe except as a client evaporated as soon as she laid eyes on him. His physical beauty crashed over her like a tidal wave on an unprotected beach. Her knees buckled. She willed herself not to become tongue-tied and tried to tear her gaze from his.
Silence. Since this was her office and she was the professional in charge, it was her job to move things along. She just had to figure out how to pry her lips apart and act normal.
One of the older men cleared his throat. Lilith swallowed hard.
“Thank you all for coming here. My partner Dominique LaPierre, who couldn’t be here tonight, and I are thrilled to take part in the search for Rafe’s soul mate. Please don’t hesitate to contact us with feedback, questions or whatever comes up. Now, before we start, does anyone have any questions?”
August spoke first. “We need to be very clear about the need to find a suitable life mate for Rafe. She must be able to take her place at his side as he leads the pack. Of course, with a blood line like his, Rafe must choose a worthy, suitable mate.”
Lilith watched Rafe through this entire speech. Though his face remained neutral, her instincts said something far different was going on below the surface. Then Rafe turned and winked at her. For just a moment, it was like the two of them formed a unit, a couple. Her heartbeat sped up and her breathing got funny. How pathetic. A mere wink got her hot and bothered, fired her up her imagination and her senses, and almost had her panting. Talk about inappropriate. She really needed to get a life.
Thank the goddess she could busy her hands with her keyboard. No one could see how much she was trembling while she banged away at the keys and managed to pay full attention to whichever man was speaking. When the elders fell silent, she turned to Rafe.
“Now I’d like to hear from you. I need specifics. First, I’m going to ask some questions. These will enable us to create an accurate, thorough profile. Then we can talk about what you’re looking for.”
Rafe stretched his long legs out in front of him. His full, generous lips tightened into an almost grimace. Lilith, who had inherited empath genes from her mom, had grown quite adept at identifying who did or didn’t want to be in their “hot” seat. Like Dominique, she didn’t relish working with a client who didn’t want to be there. When a client seemed reluctant, for whatever reason, she or Dominique would have a good talk with him or her—and with whoever was applying pressure. But this situation was unique. The older men had warned the Fangly staff that Rafe would be a hard case—but much more than individual preference was at stake. The very fate of the pack demanded that all the players, especially Rafe, fulfill their designated roles.
Lilith remembered all the tales she’d loved while growing up. Princesses and princes in marriages arranged to ensure dynastic survival seemed romantic when they didn’t involve real beings. The reality was grim, not glamorous.
“Anything you’d like to ask before we start?” Lilith focused on Rafe.
She loved how his facial muscles moved—also how they looked in repose.
“The elders are leaving first, right?”
The older men sprang to life and began to voice objections.
“This is Rafe’s choice,” Lilith told the hovering men. “If he’d feel more comfortable speaking only to me, I’m sure you’ll understand and leave the room.”
August pursed his lips. “If we’re here, we can make sure Rafe’s answers present an accurate portrait.”
“Geez, Uncle August. You trust me to guide the pack but you think I can’t answer a few questions about myself?”
Anger an
d frustration seemed to simmer right below the surface. Lilith wouldn’t want to be the target of those feelings. Part of what she had to do was defuse his negativity about the whole process.
Benedict put a hand on his friend’s shoulder to stop him from responding. “It’s not that, Rafe. But the two of us know you and know enough about what’s involved to provide the most accurate profile. Why don’t you let us help you?”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “I think you two have helped me enough to last a lifetime. Now why don’t you cool your heels in the outer office so we can get this over with? I do have other business to take care of and standing here arguing is just wasting my time.”
The elders left the room.
Lilith asked, “Rafe, who is your personal hero?”
He shrugged. “In spite of what you’ve just witnessed, I’d say my heroes are the males of my pack. My ancestors, all the leaders and alphas who’ve brought us to where we are today.”
Nothing unexpected in that answer.
“Who’s your ideal woman?”
He winked at Lilith again. “When you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”
If only.
Chapter Two
This interview was not what Rafe expected when the elders set him up at Fangly, My Dear. Lilith P. Graves—her full name was spelled out in brass on the wooden plaque at the front of her desk—had caught his eye the moment he had stepped into her office. A blue-eyed blonde with sexy lips and a curvy body he wanted to get his arms around and his teeth into, Lilith appeared to have no idea of the monumental erection her scent aroused.