Billionaire Wolf (The Pack 17) (Nocturne)

by Karen Whiddon

  Maria nodded. She cast a quick, almost desperate glance around the place, noting some new arrivals who hadn’t been there before. One of them was a tall, strikingly handsome man with close-cropped dark hair wearing what appeared to be a custom-made suit. He must have come here straight from work. Maria approved. He noticed her studying him and smiled.

  “Well done,” Rhonda said approvingly. “He’s heading this way. I’ll be your wing-woman if you need me to.”

  When Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome reached them, he included both women in his smile. “I’m Darryl,” he said, holding out an elegant, long-fingered hand. “Darryl Pride.” His aura proclaimed him a Shifter, though Maria couldn’t tell what kind.

  “Maria Miranda,” she said, smiling back. “And this is my friend Rhonda.”

  As usual, Rhonda made a show of displaying her wedding ring. “Pleased to meet you,” she drawled, shooting Maria a quick nod of approval.

  Darryl returned his gaze to Maria. She noticed he had unusual-colored eyes, a grayish-hazel. His cheekbones were set high in his face, making him look both exotic and dangerous.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked, his tone formal, contrasting with the sparkle in his eyes.

  A slow song had just come on. Normally, Maria would have said no. But the image of Ryan smiling down into his gorgeous date’s face made her feel reckless.

  “Yes,” she said, and hopped off the bar stool. “I’ll be right back,” she told Rhonda, who waved her on with a smile.

  As his arms went around her and they began to move on the dance floor, she couldn’t help but make comparisons to Ryan. While Darryl might be as tall, he wasn’t as broad shouldered nor as muscular. And he smelled of expensive men’s cologne rather than sea and sand and wind.

  At first, she wasn’t sure how to hold herself and moved stiffly. She didn’t usually slow dance with someone she didn’t know. Even her inner dragon, usually so vocal, had gone silent.

  From the corner of her eyes, she saw a flurry of movement. Ryan and his entourage moved out on the dance floor. He swept his beautiful companion into his arms and moved her close, gazing down into her upturned face with the same intense look he’d given Maria.

  A small part of her died when she saw that. As she and Darryl glided past, Ryan raised his head and saw her. As their gazes met, he flashed her an impersonal smile. She let her eyes drift right past, as though she didn’t recognize him. And then, even though she knew it was wrong, she pressed her body against Darryl and looked up at him, smiling as though she found him the most perfect man on this Earth.

  Darryl blinked, clearly stunned, and then reacted instantly. He leaned down, as if he meant to kiss her. She turned her head at the last moment so his mouth grazed her cheek instead.

  And caught Ryan giving her a look of lazy amusement before turning his attention back to his date.

  Anger, hurt and, yes, jealousy all churned inside of her. For one instant she wanted to continue this game of trying to make Ryan jealous, but then what would be the point? They had no future. While Darryl, who actually was the first man in a long time besides Ryan to even cause a glimmer of interest, might just be The One.

  She’d never know if she used him to play some futile game.

  “Sorry,” she said, stepping out of his arms. “I don’t actually know you all that well.” Taking his hand she led him back to the table. As soon as they arrived, Rhonda got up and headed to the lady’s room to give them the privacy they needed.

  “I don’t understand,” Darryl began, his aristocratic features still composed.

  “I know you don’t. It’s not your fault. I really would like to get to know you better, maybe over dinner or something.” She blushed as she realized she’d just asked him out. Holding her breath as she waited for his answer, she knew she wouldn’t blame him if he said no.

  “I’d like that,” he replied instead. “May I have your number?”

  “Sure.” Digging in her purse for a pen, she scrawled the info on a cocktail napkin and passed it to him. “Give me a call when you’d like to set something up.”

  The intensity in his unusual eyes sent a shiver up her spine. “I’ll do that,” he said, and turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Rhonda magically appeared just as two or three men approached the table. She glared at them as she took her seat and waved them away. Unbelievably, they went.

  “So?” One brow raised, Rhonda took a sip of her wine. “Did you two click? You looked pretty into him on the dance floor.”

  “He’s okay.” Careful to avoid looking back that way, Maria summoned up a smile for her friend.

  “Good.” Rhonda swore as she caught sight of something on the dance floor. “Don’t look,” she ordered.

  “I already saw.” Maria didn’t bother to keep the misery from her voice. “He saw me, too.”

  “Well, at least you were dancing with a good-looking guy,” Rhonda said. When her rapid defense failed to summon even a ghost of a smile from Maria, Rhonda downed the last of her wine. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  As they pushed through the crowd, the slow song ended and a pulsating dance beat began.

  They made it outside without incident.

  “What now?” Maria asked, trying to put a brave face on, but not really caring.

  “I know the perfect place for what ails you.” Rhonda grabbed her arm. “Come on. A double scoop of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream will make anyone feel better.”

  * * *

  Ryan tried. Honest to hounds, he gave it his best shot. His date Anastasia or Amanda Something—a model who was not only hot, but she was Pack. Her brother was even a Pack Protector. She’d jumped at his offer to go out, even shrieking at him when he’d called. This, he’d thought, was how the women he dated usually acted. Not like Maria.

  The instant he’d walked into the bar—their bar—he’d seen her sitting at a small table with a pretty human woman. Lust instantly zinged him at the sight of her, which he promptly quashed. He also felt a pang of regret, wondering if seeing him with another woman might hurt her, before he’d remembered Maria had been the one to send him away.

  Later, after he’d had a couple of shots of ice-cold Patrón, he’d allowed Anastasia or Amanda to drag him out on the dance floor. The instant he’d caught sight of Maria slow dancing way too close with that tall, handsome man, he’d wanted to stride over there and pull the other man’s hands off her smooth skin.

  He’d seen the way that guy had looked at her, as if he wanted to eat her up. Ryan knew exactly how that felt.

  Every muscle in his body was tight. His date had sensed something and snuggled up against him in an effort to turn his attention back to her and what she was offering.

  As if her too-thin, curveless body could tempt him after Maria’s.

  The instant that thought occurred to him, he winced.

  “Ryan?” Now his date frowned prettily at him. Since they were the same height, she didn’t even have to look up. “Are you all right?”

  No. He was not all right. He nearly said that, before realizing he needed to shake this off and try to get on with his life. He could not keep pining for a woman he couldn’t have.

  The music changed, lucky for him, and he headed off the dance floor. Anastasia pouted, and then grabbed the first man who passed by and dragged him out there to dance with her. Ryan felt only relief. It had been a huge mistake to ask her out.

  Back in the private room provided by the club, he looked around at the crowd of partiers, every single one of them there for the free drinks or the notoriety or the possibility of getting into a billionaire’s inner circle. Not because they liked him or were his friends. Hell, most of them barely even knew him.

  With sudden stark clarity, he saw how he’d been living his life ever since his company had taken off and the money had started flowing. As if nothing mattered but having a good time. And with that realization, he understood why someone like Maria wo
uldn’t want a future with a man like him. If he wanted to ever have a chance with her, he needed to make some changes. And fast. Before someone else snapped her up.

  Glancing once more around the room, he went to find the manager, where he closed out and paid for the tab. He left directions that his tab was now closed and anything his date and her friends ordered would be on them.

  And then he left the bar and headed to his beautiful, but lonely, beach house to think and plan. Maria had agreed to remain friends. Maybe they could build on that.

  * * *

  Darryl called the very next day, his calm and polite tone at odds with his apparent eagerness. He asked Maria to dinner the following evening, suggesting a small Italian place that only the locals knew about. Since any restaurant blessedly free of tourists sounded wonderful, plus she seriously wanted to give Darryl a chance, she agreed. He said he’d pick her up around seven, but since she didn’t know him, she arranged to meet him there, instead.

  She knew she should call her father and let him know the latest development, but she hated to let him—and the always expectant Council—down, so she didn’t. She decided to wait and see how things went before saying anything.

  But she could, and did, call Rhonda. The two of them had had a long talk over their ice-cream cones, and Maria had poured out a carefully edited story of her father’s pushing and her feeling that her biological clock might have gone into overdrive. Rhonda, a perfect listener, had simply patted Maria’s shoulder and nodded at the right times. She knew Maria didn’t expect solutions. She just wanted someone to hear her. And Rhonda had fulfilled that role beautifully.

  “I’m glad you’re going out with him. He’s nice looking. Just make sure you stay in a public place, okay?”

  Maria smiled. “I know. I always do. I’m so glad we had our girls’ night.”

  “Me, too. Ryan Howard showing up might have put a damper on things, but at least you met someone, right?”

  “Right.” Maria tried to sound a lot more optimistic than she felt. “I’ll keep you posted on how everything goes.”

  Chapter 13

  The next day at work, the morning passed in a blur of solid, back-to-back appointments, bridal parties in various stages of planning and a few prospective clients. Maria ate a hurried lunch in her office and had barely washed down her sandwich when her cell phone rang.

  Ryan’s number flashed on the screen. She froze. She took a deep breath, aware she had to sound nonchalant.

  “Hello?” she answered, with what she thought was a cheerful lilt to her tone.

  “Good afternoon.” The husky sound of Ryan’s voice sent a jolt right to her core. “Just checking in to see how my favorite wedding chapel owner is doing these days.”

  Briefly closing her eyes, Maria had to remind herself to inhale and exhale. “I’m fine. What can I do for you, Ryan?”

  His immediate silence had all kinds of carnal images running through her head. She fanned herself, refusing to speak again as she waited for his answer.

  When he finally spoke, the teasing note had vanished and his tone became serious. “Have you changed your mind about the two of us remaining friends?”

  Friends? She hadn’t truly meant it. Of course, she hadn’t expected him to want to continue any kind of relationship with her anymore if she wouldn’t give him what he wanted. “Of course not,” she said, with an injection of warmth. “We’ll always be friends.”

  “Great. I was hoping we could get together and catch up. Plus, you haven’t even seen my new place. How about you come over for dinner?”

  Oh, hell. The man seriously didn’t ever give up. What was it with him? Maybe he still considered her a challenge. Yet, even so, part of her wanted to agree. Talk about temptation. With every fiber of her being, she longed to give in.

  Though she would have given much to be able to do exactly that, Maria knew her absurd fixation on Ryan Howard would destroy her ability to find and meet the man she needed. Which wasn’t him. She had to figure out a way not to love him anymore.

  “I can’t,” she answered, telling herself to remain strong. “I...er, have a date.”

  Her words hung out there in the air for a moment while she tried not to squirm. And then, just as she remembered she had no reason to be uncomfortable, she heard Ryan sigh.

  “Well, good,” he finally said, his speech clipped and unemotional. “I’ll let you go.” And he ended the call.

  She stared at the phone. Had that been hurt she’d heard in his voice? Taking a deep, albeit shaky, breath, she tried to put it from her mind. She told herself she really liked Darryl. Or she could, if she gave him time. Like Ryan, Darryl was tall and dark and handsome. Unlike Ryan, he was ordinary. A regular, handsome guy with a charming smile. He was like the prairie, where Ryan reminded her of the sea. Maybe one would balance out the other. For the first time in a long time, she’d felt hopeful about the future.

  Still, Ryan’s call had brought that old ache back. She rushed through her afternoon appointments and went on a quick shopping expedition. Then she headed home to get ready.

  Getting ready for their date, she took the dress she’d purchased that afternoon out of her closet and admired it. She wasn’t a big shopper, but she’d seen this vintage pale yellow dress hanging in a window and stopped dead in front of the eclectic little shop in the Strand. When she’d gone in to look at it, she’d been delighted to see it was her size. When she’d tried it on, and found it fit as though it had been made for her, she’d twirled, enjoying the way the skirt flared out. The dress made her feel like a faerie-tale princess.

  Of course, then she’d immediately thought of how Ryan would react if he saw her in it. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she pushed the thought away, hating that once again she’d managed to ruin what could have been a perfect moment.

  She met Darryl at DiBella’s Italian Restaurant on 31st. As she’d told Rhonda, for first dates, she always brought her own car and met in a crowded place. He’d made reservations and was already waiting for her, looking handsome in khaki slacks and a button-down shirt. Out here, his aura seemed stronger, more powerful. She toyed with the idea of asking him what kind of Shifter he actually was, and decided against it. At this point, she didn’t really care. If something came of their relationship, she’d ask then.

  Over dinner she’d learned he was an only child, a lawyer who’d moved to Galveston to open his own law practice and an avid angler. She’d been careful with what she’d revealed about herself, telling him she worked in event planning, was also an only child and was from Wisconsin. During the meal she was careful to only drink one glass of wine.

  After dinner he’d suggested they go for coffee at The Mod Coffee House on Post Office Street, but she knew the place would be packed with tourists since it was close to the Strand, so she politely declined. As they said their goodbyes in front of the restaurant, she braced herself for him to try and kiss her, deciding that, if he did, she’d offer a hug instead.

  But he didn’t. Darryl didn’t even shake her hand. He cocked his head and smiled at her. “I’d like to see you again,” he said.

  She should have been thrilled, she supposed. Their date had been all right. Nothing special. No fireworks, but no bad feelings, either. She recalled that, when they met, he’d reminded her of the prairie. She’d enjoyed herself while visiting there, but she’d never stopped yearning for the sea.

  Sadness filling her, she caught herself on the verge of offering excuses. She had a sudden, horrible feeling that this would be her life from now on. Safe and bland, no excitement, just security. Like the smooth glass the ocean became, right before a storm.

  But she knew her people would say that was enough, as long as she had a child. Or two. Continuing the Drakkor race was important. Anything beyond that didn’t matter.

  “Give me a call and we’ll see,” she finally responded. Then she hurried to her car, got in and locked it before starting the engine and driving away.

  * * *

&
nbsp; Was it possible to force oneself to fall in love? Maria found herself contemplating that after her second, and then her third, date with Darryl. His striking appearance made other women sit up and take notice, and while Maria occasionally caught herself admiring the classic lines of his profile, she never felt that electric zing of attraction she did with Ryan. Not even once.

  And therein lay the problem, she suspected. It might be entirely possible that Ryan Howard had ruined her for anyone else.

  After her fourth date with Darryl, she began to suspect he felt about the same way she did toward him. Lukewarm. When she’d rebuffed his initial attempt to kiss her, he’d been a perfect gentleman. Sure, his hand might linger a bit too long on her shoulder, but he never did anything else to suggest he considered her anything but a friend.

  That night, after visiting Moody Gardens and having dinner out, he’d dropped her off at her house—they’d graduated to that—and given her a quick hug. The kind one bestowed on a sister or brother. After watching him drive off, she’d gone inside and opened a bottle of her favorite wine.

  All her life, she’d loved two things. The ocean and weddings. Which was exactly why she lived in Galveston and had chosen to run a wedding chapel as her career.

  And now, it was just possible she loved another. Ryan Howard. A man who could never love her back.

  Maria didn’t drink much, and when she did, she usually only had a single glass of wine, maybe two. Somehow, without realizing it, she managed to drink a little more than half the bottle. And instead of making her feel better, the alcohol only made her want to cry.

  This was ridiculous, she decided. Grabbing her cell, she found Ryan’s number and punched Call before she had time to chicken out.

  After the third ring, she began to think maybe she should hang up. After the fourth, she was just about to do that, when a decidedly feminine voice drawled “Hello?”

  “Wrong number,” Maria mumbled, her heart pounding. She ended the call, feeling sick. Clearly, Ryan had already moved on. If this wasn’t a gigantic hint from the cosmos, she didn’t know what was.