BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

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BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection) Page 36

by Candace Ayers


  She rolled her eyes at him, and placed his dinner down on the table.

  “Flattery will get you nowhere. Leave it be, Colton.”

  “Hear me out – what about placing an advertisement for someone to play the role of his companion – paid well, staying long enough to get Wyatt instated as Alpha, and then she can leave – we’ll say she ran off with another man or got so bored of my taciturn brother that she left the country.”

  Hannah laughed out loud.

  “Oh, that’s fantastic – I can’t imagine anything going wrong with that!”

  “Love of my life – why do you doubt my brilliance?” Colton feigned hurt, clutching at his heart.

  “It is completely flawed, and in addition to that, Wyatt would never go for it.”

  “He doesn’t need to know till I find her. Then he’ll see the method behind my madness.”

  “Please don’t do this Colton,” Hannah groaned.

  “I have to. Time’s running out. Joe’s desperate to step down with all the Yupiq and Altik tensions. Damn wolves. I’ve got a good feeling about this, honestly.”

  Hannah sighed, Wyatt was going to be furious when he discovered what his brother was planning. But there was no stopping Colton once he had an idea. He was as stubborn as a mule. In business it was a wonderful thing to behold – he moved mountains to increase the wealth and power of the Sterling family, but when it came to matters of the heart, Colton’s heavy-handed mergers and acquisitions approach just wasn’t going to fly.

  “Eat your dinner,” she kissed him on the forehead, smiling at his familiar poker night smell of cigars and whiskey.

  “I love you, Colton Sterling.”

  Chapter six

  “What time you call this?”

  May-May was in the hallway, nosing through the apartment building’s postal boxes, her habitual weekend treat.

  “You’re going to get caught doing that one day, then you’ll be sorry,” Haley commented.

  May-May sniffed in her direction, raising her eyebrows at Haley.

  “Folks need checkin’ up on. I’m naturally distrustful Haley Dubois, and it’s a good thing too,” she waved a piece of mail under Haley’s nose, “Final notice for that noisy jack-ass musician up on nine – been suspicious of him from the start.”

  Haley struggled to keep a straight face. May-May was the absolute limit sometimes.

  “Where you been?”

  May-May folded her arms and glared at Haley.

  “You reek of fancy perfume, and if I’m not mistaken, gone got your face painted like a no-good lady of the night. Hope you not been seein’ that devil man.”

  “May-May! Honestly, no – I went for an interview at Macy’s. I got collared by one of the make-up counters on my way out, then I had dinner with a friend.”

  “A friend, is it?”

  May-May’s eyes gleamed with suspicion.

  “Yes, a friend – a female friend.”

  May-May snorted in derision.

  “You look through that paper like I told you?” She asked.

  Shit. She hadn’t. It had completely slipped her mind.

  “I’m doing it tonight, May-May.”

  May-May gasped and wrung her hands, “Lord! It’s been over a week. Destiny come knocking on your door, clear as day, and you turn it away! Well, I never, Haley Dubois, ain’t nothing the spirits can do for you now.”

  The old woman shook her head in complete bafflement at Haley’s blatant disregard for her own future.

  “I promise I’ll look at it tonight – I promise.”

  Haley made her way up the steps, idly wondering when May-May would forgive her for this latest transgression. The last destiny-related misdemeanor had caused an entire week of mutterings, tuts and squinty-eyed looks thrown in her direction.

  “She promises! She promises – fat lot of good it will do her now!”

  May-May shuffled off back to her apartment, chatting away to the spirits and huffing theatrically at the impudent nature of young Haley Dubois.

  The kettle screeched loudly from the kitchen. Haley finished removing the last of the caked-on foundation, two tones too dark for her skin, and padded through to make tea.

  While she waited for one of May-May’s concoctions to brew, Haley flicked through the job section of the paper she’d discarded on the kitchen table over a week ago. Most of the short-term positions would probably be filled now, but she might have luck with some of the longer-term jobs that usually took a while to fill.

  She spied one that looked promising,

  AD SALES!

  Join our go-getter team

  $12k starting salary + benefits

  No prior experience necessary!

  She circled it with a sharpie, determined to call them first thing tomorrow to see if they were still looking for someone. She gave a wry smile at the starting salary; it was a long time since she’d been paid as low as that, if ever.

  Haley had gone straight from best student at the American Ballet Theatre to joining them as prima ballerina, leaving only for a two-year stint with the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow – before she’d no longer been able to hack the insanely cold winters, and moved back home.

  She scanned the rest of the page, ignoring the cleaning positions – she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to do that sort of work as her due date neared. She came across another advertisement that looked interesting, but she had to read it twice before fully understanding what exactly it was.

  COMPANION NEEDED

  Sensible, kind and adventurous applicant with GSOH

  needed for three-month companion stint.

  English speakers only.

  $50,000 for duration.

  Serious applicants only.

  Well, she thought, the price is right. There was an email address provided, but no other detail as to what the job involved. The use of the word ‘Companion’ suggested to Haley that the client was most likely elderly, though the mention of ‘adventurous’ was strange in that context. Unless, of course, it meant that the location – which was unspecified, was some far-off place. Tropical perhaps? Haley laughed to herself. If May-May turned out to be right, she would never again question the power of the spirits – and also buy her a nice house plant.

  She didn’t want to wait till tomorrow to reply to this one. Sitting down at the kitchen table, tea forgotten, Haley fired up her Mac Book.

  Her inbox was shamefully empty; the fan mail she was used to receiving had dried up a few months ago. Now the only emails she got where marketing ads from expensive luxury brands she could no longer afford, and Viagra sale pitches.

  Haley pondered over what to write. It seemed best to give them a bit of background on herself, maybe mention May-May as someone she looked after in the building – though Haley knew full well it was the other way round. It wouldn’t hurt to stretch the truth a bit – especially since she was so desperate.

  She wrote about her time in Moscow, which would indicate an adventurous spirit. Kind? Well, that would have to come across through the tone of the email and a well-chosen picture.

  She flicked through her iPhoto collection. There were lots of her performing as well as black and white brochure portraits, but very few personal ones where she looked relaxed and happy.

  Haley absent-mindedly chewed on the end of her pen. She checked a few friends on Facebook, seeing if they had any pics that were more appropriate. A few minutes later her search was successful – one of her old dancing partners had a picture of Haley in Paris, standing beneath the Eiffel Tower. She was laughing into the camera. Haley remembered it well; she’d been giddy on frothy cappuccinos and buttery croissants, a morning spent celebrating their final performance of Swan Lake at the Palais Garnier.

  She attached it to the email. Drumming her fingers on the keys, she started to question the nature of the position. Perhaps it was worth mentioning what she wasn’t willing to do – she recalled May-May’s warning about being fooled. Was this opportunity too good to be true?<
br />
  Before she could change her mind, she asked if the job required any form of sexual contact – and if so, she absolutely would not be a viable candidate for the job. She quickly reread the email and hit send.

  Haley rose from the table, remembering her tea. She sighed; it was stone cold. She’d have to start again. Though it was far from a done deal, Haley couldn’t help but daydream about the $50,000 check. It would cover her healthcare, new baby things – including a crib and stroller, and enough left over so that she wouldn’t need to worry about getting a job as soon as little blob was born.

  Maybe her luck was about to change.

  Chapter seven

  Tucker parked his car away from the security lights of the ship yard. He could sense the tell-tale signs of the wolf’s proximity as soon as he opened the truck door.

  The ground was slushy with ice and a numbingly cold wind blew in off the port. Tucker walked past the warehouse entrance, and down the side alley that was part concealed by a brick wall. The wolf was waiting for him by the dumpsters. They reeked of day-old fish guts, even in this temperature.

  “Hey Drake.”

  “Tucker, good to see you.”

  Drake stood in the shadows, his bulky frame covered with an old surplus jacket. A thick woolen hat covered his severe Army-regulation buzz-cut which he still maintained; Tucker had grown his out the moment he got the chance. Alaska was too harsh to shave anything.

  “How are things going?” Tucker asked.

  “Not great. We found a body in one of the abandoned warehouses by Airport Road. Leslie Lewis. She was an informant – been part of the Altik Pack for years, hated Simeon’s leadership. Knew he wouldn’t let her get away with leaving, so she did what good she could and came to us with intel. Got caught.”

  “Shit. I know Leslie – she’s got a boy, right, where’s he?”

  Drake crossed his arms and looked down at the tips of his army boots.

  “My place, for now. We found him next to the body. They’d just left him with her. The coroner said she’d been dead for two days before we found her.”

  “Fuck, Drake.”

  “Yeah. He hasn’t spoken yet. Just sleeps.”

  Tucker felt sick.

  “What’s the plan?” He asked.

  “We’re ready. My Pack’s chomping at the bit to take that fucker down, but I want to wait. I want to wait for the Clan to align with us,” he looked up at Tucker, “Officially. This can’t go wrong – we’re going to get one chance to come at him, and I want it to be full-force, both Clan and Pack.”

  “I get it. But you know Joe’s playing a game of his own. He won’t move on this – wants to push Wyatt into taking Clan leadership.”

  “I heard. How long is this going to take – Wyatt wants it, right?” replied Drake.

  “He does. Sort of – he’s willing. But the Clan won’t allow it unless he pair-bonds with a mate.”

  “Jesus,” sighed Drake, “you Bears, so friggin’ ritualistic. It’s fucking archaic, man.”

  Tucker smirked at his friend’s assessment, “Yeah – but it keeps the leader’s mind on the job. Not hunting skirt.”

  “Sure,” Drake rolled his eyes, “but when’s Wyatt going to bond? We can’t wait around forever, Simeon’s coming for me – he’ll take down Yupiq and then he’ll come for you.”

  “I know. Colton’s working on it. He’ll come through.”

  “Shouldn’t Wyatt be working on it?”

  “Give him a break. He’s dated every single woman in Port Ursa. This isn’t really his thing.”

  Drake shook his head.

  “Tucker – we need to get this show moving. Leslie would have spilled anything I told her with her child at stake. I didn’t tell her much, but Simeon will know we’re trying to align. He also knows he’s number one on the Sterling family hit list after that thing with Colton and Hannah.”

  “I know. I’ll keep the ball rolling – we’re as eager for this as you are. We’ve just got to persuade the Clan it’s the right thing to do. And only Wyatt can do that.”

  “Alright. I’ll keep my ear to the ground, update you when I know anything.”

  “Same, brother.”

  They thumped one another on the back affectionately, and Tucker headed back to the parking lot the way he came.

  Chapter eight

  Colton pressed his secretary’s connection on his office phone.

  “Jenna, please make sure no one disturbs me for the next hour.”

  “Yes, sir. Can I bring you a coffee?”

  “No, I’m good – thanks.”

  He released the call button and shut the office blinds. He didn’t want Wyatt coming in unannounced, as was so often his way.

  The email account inbox he’d set up especially for his companion hire had about one hundred replies. He’d wished Hannah had been more enthusiastic about his scheme; he could really use her intuition going through the applicants.

  Looking at the first reply, he laughed out loud, and then berated himself for not specifying the sex of the applicant – a rookie mistake. This was a muscly-looking personal trainer from Georgia. Wow. Not what Wyatt needed at all. Colton opened all the responses, swiftly deleting all the male respondents. That left about sixty per cent of the applicants, which was partly a relief, partly a worry as his pool of viable candidates was already much smaller.

  After reading a few, Colton really started to panic. A lot of these women were under the impression that sex was involved. Countless pictures of nude women jumped out at him – all promising good times and mad skills in the bedroom. A few were way out of Wyatt’s age range, and used to caring for the elderly. Colton couldn’t stop laughing to himself – imagining eighty-year-old Mrs. Doris Withers from New England, who liked cats and crochet, stepping off the plane to be announced as Wyatt’s new mate. It would certainly have comedic value.

  Half an hour later, Colton was starting to lose heart. None of the applicants seemed truly suitable. There were a couple of actresses from LA that seemed likely, but when he saw their pictures they looked like plastic mannequins – over made-up, practically orange from tanning beds, and all stating that if the job entailed looking after an old person, no way would they be interested. He was sure they’d absolutely love Wyatt, but he couldn’t put these wannabe starlets with his brother; it would be too cruel. Wyatt would hate it.

  He was about to give up hope, when he opened an email from a Haley Dubois. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but when he opened her picture he didn’t at all recognize the beautiful, relaxed and happy woman that smiled back at him. She looked perfect - he had no idea about his brother’s preferred type, but that didn’t really matter. She looked kind, which was the one thing his brother would appreciate above all else.

  Reading her résumé, he smiled to himself. She was, or had been, a ballet dancer. Performance skills were going to be a plus. She also mentioned looking after an elderly lady in her building, which was perfect – she was obviously kind and caring to do such a thing without any financial reward.

  He picked up the phone.

  “Hannah?”

  “Hi babe,” she replied, “What’s up?”

  “I think I’ve found the perfect ‘companion’ for Wyatt – can I forward it to you?”

  He could hear the groan on the end of the line.

  “Colton, I didn’t think you were actually going to pursue this idea…”

  “Baby, honestly, it’s a great idea – and I’ve got the perfect candidate. A ballet dancer from Manhattan. She’s pretty, and looks kind.”

  There was a long pause. He could imagine his wife running her fingers through her hair in agitation. He smiled to himself.

  “Okay,” she sighed reluctantly, “but Colton – I really want you to think long and hard about this. Namely, the fact that you’re in danger of turning someone’s life upside down. There’s no chance that a woman staying with Wyatt, and living in Port Ursa, is not going to come across a shifter. Then what?”

&
nbsp; “That’s not true! The Clan just needs to know that Wyatt’s mated – she doesn’t need to be a part of any ceremonies or meetings or anything – and they’ll take our word for it because they want to; everyone wants Wyatt to be leader, we’ve just got to get through some red tape to keep it all legit.”

  “Have you even thought about this woman for one second? She’s going to think the whole thing is crazy – a companion for a perfectly able bodied thirty-year-old? Come on, Colton.”

  He sighed in frustration. He hated it when his plans were doubted. This could work, he knew it.

  “Baby – trust me. I get your point – and this is why we need to select an open-minded, kind looking woman. I really need your intuition…you’re more of a people person than I am.”

  “Colton, stop trying to flatter me. Send the damn thing over and I’ll get back to you later this afternoon, I need to get to the exam room.”

  Shit. She was angry. He was going to have to make this up to her somehow.

  “Okay, thanks baby. I love you.”

  She huffed down the line.

  “I know you do. I love you too.”

  Colton hung up. Hannah sounded resigned. He reminded himself that this was for the greater good – if Wyatt didn’t find a mate and he had to step up, he and Hannah could wave goodbye to their freedom as a couple – no more jetting off on a last minute trip at the drop of a hat, no more Sunday mornings spent in bed with the newspaper and nothing to do but make love…the list went on. No way did he want to lose that.

  He forwarded the email on, and then refocused his attentions on his increasing workload, finding it much easier to decipher legal documents pertaining to Sterling Outfitters and the shipping yard, than he did trying to gauge the suitability of Wyatt’s potential mates.

  Later that afternoon he received Hannah’s reply via text.

  She looks lovely.

  Still unsure about this.

  W will NOT be happy.

  XOXO

 

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