Wanted by the Alphas (An Extremely Sensual Paranormal Shifter Romance)

by Dawn Steele

Both she and Jared are taken aback.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” she says, licking her lips. Does he really want me . . . or is he playing both of us? She remembers the darkness which has come over Lucien’s eyes and she wonders if he knows she saw it. But she doesn’t sense a danger vibe from him.

  You’re interested in me.

  I’m interested in you too.

  But in what capacity?

  Jared says, “Why, thank you, Lucien. That is very generous of you.” He has his hand on her back again. “So generous that we will both accept.”

  What? She darts a look at him in surprise. She didn’t think he would accept Lucien’s offer. She thought he would be too proud.

  But perhaps she thought wrong. Perhaps he wants his rematch tonight. Perhaps he wants revenge on Lucien for besting him in front of a dozen people. Perhaps he noticed Lucien’s fleeting metamorphosis and he wants to investigate further.

  “Excellent.” Lucien smiles at Jared. It’s a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. There’s a challenge in his expression. I’ll find out who you really are.

  A shudder runs down her spine. Is this such a good idea after all to remain here? Something bad is going to happen, she can feel it in her gut.

  The waiter says tactfully, “I’ll get the bellboy to bring up your bags. Which room shall I put Mr. and Ms. Bellamy in, sir?”

  “Not a room but two suites,” Lucien pronounces. “Give them the Heartwood and Northam suites, Tod, and break out two bottles of champagne. Nothing but the gracious best for our guests.”

  The waiter grins. “Of course, sir.”

  As he scuttles off to get the bellboy, Shannon can’t help feeling that everything is going in a way that neither she nor Jared would have dreamt of.

  HEARTWOOD

  The Heartwood Suite is not as huge as most hotel suites go, but this is a boutique hotel and Shannon supposes it is as good as it gets in Dolphin’s Bay. The suite consists of a small lounge where a patterned and purposefully mismatched sofa set forms the décor. A bucket of ice lies on the table before the couch and a bottle of champagne has been placed in it.

  Too bad she doesn’t like champagne. Alcohol of any sort sends her mind into a tailspin and her focus unbalanced.

  The carpet is plush under her bare feet. She has already shrugged off her heels and her tired feet sink into the softness. The lounge has a wall to wall glass window which looks out into the flower garden she saw from the restaurant terrace. She peers out of this window, taking in the sky with the scudding rain clouds.

  The bedroom is attached to the lounge. It is very pretty, tasteful, with colors that run the gamut of cherry red for the wood furnishings and pastels for the sheets. It is a happy place with happy vibes, and she immediately experiences a cheer she has not felt for a long time.

  She wonders if Jared finds the Northam Suite to his liking or he will just find a reason to crap. Jared has changed a lot from the teenager she once knew. Most of her affection for him still stems from the tides they have been through together when they were merely two unusual young people against a world which does not tolerate differences, and not from what he has become in recent times.

  She is tired from the journey, and so she runs a long bath with bath salts and has a nice soak all by herself. Then she takes a nap.

  When she wakes up, it is six thirty in the evening.

  Her date!

  It has been on her dreams when she fell asleep, and how she has to prepare herself for Lucien Walker. How should she dress? Her usual style is casual chic – with lots of short skirts and sleeveless tees. She knows she looks good in this ensemble because she is always trying to emphasize her long slim legs. But Lucien Walker is a man of class and taste. His family owns this hotel, after all, and goodness knows how many other hotels and properties in this area. She should make an effort to look just as classy.

  The trouble is she hasn’t brought many clothes with her. Most of her clothes have been left behind in Tupelo because Jared and she were in such a hurry to leave – with good reason. What she has is functional. Not meant for a real date with a handsome, sophisticated multimillionaire.

  Oh, the age old bane of a woman! I have nothing to wear!

  She dumps her entire suitcase on her bed and peruses each article of clothing with scrunched nose scrutiny.

  The red top has too much of a plunging neckline. Nope.

  The green strapless dress is too tight at the bust, and can only be worn without a bra. Nope.

  The blue blouse with the sparkly neckline has too much bling and probably looks too cheap for the likes of Lucien Walker. Nope.

  In the end, she settles for her most expensive piece – a lavender dress with an asymmetrical hemline for its skirt. It brings out the violet of her eyes and the blackness of her hair. She clips on some of the very few pieces of costume jewelry she brought with her – a pair of sparkly amethyst earrings against a cluster of small diamante stones.

  She appraises herself in the mirror. She has to admit she is beautiful. But her looks have never been a problem. It is . . . the other thing.

  A knock comes on her door. Her heart leaps.

  So soon?

  But I’m not ready!

  “Coming,” she says frantically. Why is she all a-flutter? Why is her pulse suddenly tapping at her neck like a persistent, excited drum?

  She opens her door without peeking through the peephole.

  “You’re early,” she begins, and is deflated to see Jared standing out there.

  “All prepared for your date, huh?” he drawls as he saunters in.

  “Jared, I have to go soon.”

  “Yeah.” He flops his long body on the couch. “Nice suite, courtesy of your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Jared lifts her feet and plunks them on the long glass table in front of the sofa. “The way he looks at you . . . it’s like he wants to eat you. Which mightn’t be a bad thing.”

  He gazes at her out of narrowed eyes. He grins wolfishly.

  “I remember the way I used to eat you.”

  Her cheeks burn.

  “That was a long time ago and it was a mistake.”

  “Not from what I remember. I remember you moaning and begging me not to stop.”

  “It was experimental and we were very young. Please don’t refer to it anymore, Jared.”

  “Why ever not? Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it never happened. You don’t have to feel so embarrassed about it. It isn’t as if we are blood related or anything. And even if we were – ”

  He lets it trail as his gaze lingers on her breasts and curves under the pretty lavender dress which shows them off so elegantly. She squirms under his watchful gaze.

  “Don’t do that, Jared. You know you agreed not to do that ages ago.”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t be tempted from time to time, especially when the time of the month gets me.”

  Another knock comes on the door.

  Lucien!

  Flustered, she tries to temper her walk to the door. She does not want to show Jared her seeming haste to answer it.

  Lucien stands out there this time. He is in a casual blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of brown slacks. He is so tall that he almost fits into the entire doorframe.

  “Hi,” he says, staring at her.

  His blue eyes are as startling as ever, and her stomach does a little fluttery hop. She has not been appreciated by such a handsome man in a long, long time, and the sensation is simultaneously enervating and empowering.

  “God,” he says, “you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks have not stopped burning since five minutes ago. She wonders how she will get through this night.

  “Good evening to you too,” Jared calls from the couch.

  If Lucien is disappointed to see him, he does a great job of masking it. “Well, hello, Jared. How did you find the suite?”

  J
ared doesn’t get up, which itself is a telling message to Lucien that he considers the hotelier lesser than he is. Shannon is disappointed at her adopted brother’s lack of manners to whom she considers a very gracious host.

  “Not too shabby, Lucien,” Jared says.

  Shannon grabs her purse and her jacket. “I’ll be leaving now. You plan on staying here?” she says pointedly to her brother.

  He grins. “Of course not. I’ll be cruising the town myself.”

  “Be careful,” she says with a hidden meaning.

  Be careful not to antagonize anyone . . , and be careful to stay under the radar.

  “Of course I will, sis. Aren’t I always?”

  “I’m going,” she says again.

  “OK, OK, it’s not as if I’m going to rifle through your lingerie.”

  She stands there until he uncurls his body from the couch and makes to leave. Lucien stands there, watching this exchange with a slightly amused look of understanding.

  “Shall we go?” Lucien proffers his arm to her.

  She takes it. His clothed arm is warm to her hand.

  “You ready to go?” Lucien asks, smiling.

  “Yes.”

  This exchange is noted sourly by Jared.

  “Should I be waiting up?” he says to Shannon.

  She tears her gaze away from Lucien and eyes him squarely in the face. The two of them cannot be more different as night and day.

  “I shan’t be waiting up for you, for sure, brother.” The challenge is unmistakable. But sometimes she is so tired of always having to cater to his demanding ways.

  “Fine then.”

  “Fine.”

  “Have a good time,” Jared says as a parting shot.

  “We will,” Lucien says, turning her to face the other way and to walk down the short corridor of suites to the elevators which will take them downstairs.

  THE DATE

  You will never see this man again after tonight, Shannon tells herself. You are a conquest to him, nothing more. A body for him to toy with and discard. So it’s up to you. You can put out and have a good time, or play it coy and leave both of you wanting.

  Either way, he is not for keeps and you both know it.

  So does she want to go all with the way with him tonight and just take it as it is – a treasured experience with a very handsome and charming man who would never want to take it further?

  But she is entitled to a good time just like anyone else. So she lifts her chin and tells herself to stop overthinking things and to not have an inflated ego of her own charms. After all, he might not want you that way.

  But the protective warmth she feels from his arm is nice, and from the way his blue eyes light on her now and then – with interest and desire – she doesn’t think so.

  He leads her out of the reception. A mustard yellow Mustang awaits them outside. Lucien opens the passenger door for her.

  “After you, beautiful lady.”

  “You have two cars?”

  OK, of course he has more than one car. His family owns the hotel, right? Once again, she feels as if she is in over her head.

  It’s just a date. Don’t make it more than it really is. By tomorrow, he won’t even want to know you.

  She gets in, and he closes the door behind her. He goes around to the driver’s side and enters the Mustang. Thank goodness it has stopped raining.

  “Do you like Italian?”

  “You mean food?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry I don’t fulfill your wet Italian dreams, but I assure you I can whip up a mean rigatoni.”

  She flushes. She is acting like a schoolgirl around him, and she does not quite know why he does that to her. Maybe it’s because he’s so huge. She feels positively tiny compared to him.

  Then she remembers the darkening of his eyes and wonders if there is much more to his size than meets the eye.

  They drive down the hill, the Mustang circumnavigating the bends on the road as if it is glued to the asphalt.

  “Do you always drive this fast?” she asks.

  “Always. You scared?”

  “No.” Then she remembers the white Merc swerving onto their lane and she says, “I’ll take that back. Yes.”

  “Don’t be. So what are you and your brother doing in a town like Dolphin’s Bay?”

  She replies cautiously, “We came here to start a new life, make ourselves a home.”

  “Where do you come from?”

  “Arizona.”

  “Why did you decide to leave?”

  She glances at his perfect profile. “The usual. Fell out with my family. Jared lost his job in a downsizing exercise and so we decided to start afresh.”

  Her voice trembles slightly. She is not very good at making up stories. But that was what she and Jared had agreed on as a cover when the locals asked them why they left.

  “In Dolphin’s Bay?” He eyes her quizzically. “You’d be better off in Arizona.”

  “Jared wants to try something new. Maybe something to do with forestry. He has always loved the forest. He’s taking a break now, but he will find something eventually.”

  “If he’s interested in forestry, he has come to the right place. We are surrounded by nothing but forest. And of course, the ocean.”

  “I know. We did our research on Dolphin’s Bay before we drove here.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You look as if you’ve left college not too long ago. Do you work?”

  She hesitates, wondering how much to tell him. “I trained as a physiotherapist. I work with people.”

  “Physio. Cool. I could use a little physio myself after racquetball. You do massages as well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” He seems impressed.

  She blushes again. Stop being a schoolgirl! You’re twenty-four years old!

  “So what do you do?” she asks.

  She doesn’t expect him to reply with an affirmative profession, being in a family of multimillionaires, and so she is surprised when he says, “I’m in real estate.”

  “Selling properties?”

  “Yeah, buying and selling properties and stuff. My family owns a real estate agency. We buy houses and buildings, refurbish them and sell them for a profit. Or else we rent them.”

  Figures.

  “That sounds interesting.”

  “Not really.” He laughs. “But it’s what keeps the Walkers going.”

  And they are kept going very nicely, she thinks.

  “And you run the hotel as well?”

  “We have a manager to run the hotel and the other hotels we own in Oregon State.”

  “Where do you live? In a hotel?” she teases.

  “Actually, I do. It’s called the Chatterly, and I live in a suite pretty much like yours. I like the convenience and the room service.”

  Yes, she can quite see him living the bachelor life in a hotel where he can come and go as he pleases.

  “What about your family?”

  “They live in their own little house on a hill. It’s just my Dad and my sister, Margarete. My Mom died when I was in my teens.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His handsome face clouds for a second. “Yeah.” Then it passes as soon as it appeared. “The Chatterly is where we are going now.”

  “Oh?”

  He wants to get me into bed so soon? she thinks, disappointed.

  “Yes. It has a killer Italian restaurant called ‘Figo’s’. The best in the state, quite honestly, or maybe I’m biased. I hired the chef myself from Sardinia. He does the meanest fish soup I have ever tasted outside of Italy.”

  “Fish soup?” She wrinkles her nose. Being brought up in the desert, fish is not that appealing to her tastes.

  “You’ll see what I mean.”

  The rest of the ride is filled with amiable ‘getting to know you’ banter. Shannon is completely at ease. She has not enjoyed being with a man in such a long time. Maybe i
t’s because he’s so handsome and personable and he is flattering you with so much attention.

  They arrive at the Chatterly, which is another old-style mansion with multiple branching wings which has been converted to a boutique hotel. Again, the gardens are resplendent with lush blooms.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says in wonder.

  “I have an excellent horticulturist. We grow our own flowers in our own greenhouses.”

  Is there nothing his family doesn’t own?

  He parks the car in a reserved parking lot amid the other cars in the crowded parking area. Then he comes around again to open the door for her. He has amazing manners, she decides. He probably uses them to charm a lot of girls into his bed.

  He escorts her into the hotel, whose reception area is crowded tonight with a whole lot of well-dressed people. The air rings with their chatter and occasional laughter.

  “We are hosting a wedding party tonight, but that would be in the ballroom.”

  He steers her into the direction of a restaurant done in white, green and red colors – the colors of the Italian flag. A sign in gold lettering says ‘Figo’s’.

  He makes a face. “Tacky, I know, but this is a small town and sometimes you have to practically beat folks here over the head to let them know this is an Italian restaurant. Subtlety just doesn’t do it.”

  Inside, the restaurant is filled with patrons. The tables are lined with white paper instead of cloth, and Shannon sees some people scribbling onto the paper with provided crayons. The low bustle of dining chatter fills the dimly lighted atmosphere.

  “It’s full,” she notes, disappointed.

  “No worries.” Lucien smiles at the maître ‘d, who is hastening through a path between the tables to come to him. “Full house tonight, Gino?”

  “Indeed, Mr. Walker. But there is always a table for you and your lovely lady friend.” Gino appraises Shannon as though to say, Good choice. Or he might have been thinking, Poor girl will be dumped after tonight.

  They follow Gino to the back of the eatery behind a screen. Here, some discreet tables have been set up. Oak paneling separate these into booths, and the plush red berth chairs are affixed to the dividers. The same paper covers the tables. Neatly folded paper napkins are placed for two persons per table.