by Vivian Arend
Tessa held up her arms and shook her hands as if she were greeting aliens. “It’s just, this has to be perfect.”
“Oh great, like no pressure on any of us. Even your brother didn’t run the ship with an impeccable record. Give yourself a break.” This wasn’t only first day on the job nerves, this was living up to being the little sister nerves. “The cruise leaves in a couple hours. Everyone will have an awesome time, reports will go out on all the tourist sites that Arctic Wolf Cruise Lines still runs the best getaway-slash-northern-experience ever. The shifter news network will rave about how sweet it is to have an exclusive cruise where going furry isn’t frowned upon.”
“But what if something goes wrong?” Tessa’s eyes widened. “What if the Fedoras don’t have a good time? Keri, why did they have to choose my maiden voyage to take a trip? Having royalty on board makes it worse. I keep thinking I should wear a corset and full-length skirt, and carry a fan when I greet them.”
Keri eyed Tessa’s pale face. “You going to swoon? Because I can get you some smelling salts, but I’m not sure what they would do to your metabolism. Aren’t cats allergic?”
“Shut up.” Tessa grimaced her way into a smile. “I get it. I’ll stop having kittens. I just…I just want to do well.”
“I know you do.” Keri grabbed Tessa by the elbow and pulled her toward the pilothouse. “Your family has operated this cruise line for years. It’s your turn to take up the torch, yada, yada, yada.”
Tessa tucked her arm through Keri’s, and they walked side-by-side, the position comfortable and easy. Her friend’s tension slowly faded as they strode the halls talking about not much of anything. Keri smiled. If there was one thing she’d learned living next door to cat shifters for years, felines needed to move.
“For my first recommendation as troubleshooter, I suggest you get your rebounder out. Pop it in the corner of your office. Actually, screw that. Put it behind your desk and use it instead of a chair.”
Tessa laughed. “I’m going to look oh-so-professional bouncing up and down as I talk to the crew.”
“Better than bouncing off the walls.” Keri squeezed her friend’s arm. “I know we kid around a lot, but I do think you’re going to rock this. You’ve got the skills. So what if Big Brother Golden Boy would do some things differently? Be yourself, use those freaky managerial skills you got at that fancy-schmancy school, and everything will work out fine.”
They pulled to a stop outside Tessa’s office door. Tessa whirled on her. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re the best friend ever.”
All light vanished as Keri was buried in an enormous hug, her face jammed into Tessa’s armpit, her ribs groaning in protest.
“Hey there, Tigger, lighten up on the full-body attacks.”
The words squeaked out like a ducky on its final float in the tub. Tessa released her and Keri sucked for air, maintaining her smile even as she gasped for breath.
The cougar shifter who was her best friend in the world, and as near to a sister as anyone could be, bounced in a circle around her. “I mean it, Keri. Thanks for lending a hand. It’s not everyone who would give up their holiday to work.”
“Hey, I’m on a cruise ship. Bonbons and swimming pools. Exactly how much exertion is this going to take?” Keri ducked Tessa’s halfhearted swing. “Kidding, kidding—but come on, I’m nothing but a glorified gofer. It’s not as if I’m cooking for five hundred.”
“That would be scariness of epic proportions.” Tessa gave an exaggerated shudder and clutched her stomach.
Keri snorted. “Right. You can’t cook either.”
“I’m surprised we didn’t starve during college.”
“Ahh, the wonders of microwave dinners and pizza delivery.” Keri gave her friend a light punch in the shoulder. “But we survived that, you’ll make it through this. More than survive—you’re gonna do awesome.”
“Thanks.” Tessa let out a deep breath before giving her a wink. “Thanks for reminding me I can do it.”
They fist-bumped, then Tessa slipped into her office and Keri headed down the hall to escape onto deck.
She took it all in—the beautiful blue sky, the undulating waves of the ocean. The scent of the sea and a faint hint of fried food from the restaurants of the town filled her nostrils. She leaned on the railing and smiled.
It was a holiday. Tessa might be in the middle of panic mode, but those were normal first-time-out nerves. The shifter-only cruises had operated without a hitch for years, and with Tessa at the helm, nothing would change except maybe to get better. Like the rest of her family—the clan that had provided Keri’s second home for the past ten years—the girl had a flair for making others happy.
Volunteering as a troubleshooter wasn’t going to be a huge task at all. It was more a favour to ease Tessa’s concerns.
No, Keri planned on using what should be ample spare time this trip to plan out her future. She had an art degree from the community college, ink permanently staining her fingers, and a backpack full of charcoal pencils and art pads. But drawing pictures in the farmer’s market wouldn’t pay the bills forever. She sent another set of good wishes her parents’ direction for being patient with a rebellious hothead and giving her a place to bloom.
Now if she could only figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up.
A gust of wind tossed her long hair into her eyes, and Keri regretted her decision to leave it down. At sea she’d have to drag it back into a ponytail. She twisted the strands out of her way and dug in her pocket for an elastic.
Loud shouts drew her attention to the harbour. Three people raced through the streets, the one in front narrowly ahead. He leapt over a stack of boxes before shoving them behind him into the path of his pursuers. The first man turned the corner, out of sight for a moment, as the two behind forced the crates out of the way, their curses painting the air blue.
Keri walked along the railing, trying to locate the cause of the commotion. Was he a thief, perhaps? Someone late on their mooring payments? By the time she’d reached the prow of the boat, the two pursuers were visible in greater detail. Big clumpy fishermen boots graced their feet, and they were covered in shiny rain gear from head to toe. The sheer awkwardness of running in those outfits made her legs ache in sympathy.
Out on the main street, a lone figure dashed back into view, head down, legs pumping. He was poetry in motion as he leapt over ropes and around barrels, climbing over people and shipping supplies as if taking a casual stroll down the beach.
Only, when he changed direction, raced up the ramp and disappeared into the depths of the Arctic Wolf’s hold, the fun and games were over.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Keri turned to the nearest stairwell and sprinted downward.
Troubleshooter? This was trouble shouting loud and clear, and no way was someone sneaking aboard the ship unapproved. Not on her watch. Especially someone who might or might not have the fishermen’s mafia on his heels.
She burst into the crew common area and glanced around. A short line of people waited before a folding table, the two pursers behind it handing out keys and information sheets.
“Something wrong?” The chief supervisor, Chad, smiled her way enticingly, and yeah, they’d been flirting earlier, but…timing, dude. Being a family friend didn’t mean any time, any place.
“Did you see an unauthorized entry? There was a disturbance down on the docks.”
“No one new boarded except the last-minute crew we contracted locally. And this is almost the last of them.” Chad stood and eyed the line. “There’s one missing. A Mark Weaver. He’s not here yet—”
“Here I am. Sorry. Tiny mistake—alarm didn’t go off. Got here as quick as possible.”
The late arrival was dark haired, the strands long enough to lie tousled around his shoulders like some bad-boy rock star on tour. Mmm, she liked bad boys. His leather jacket hung open, his chest moving rapidly, and Keri hesitated.
Chest heaving? Slightly panting—as if he’d
been running? “Did someone escort you to the ship, Mr. Weaver?”
His eyes widened, then his grin flashed and her belly warmed. Damn, that face of his should be labeled a dangerous weapon. “No, but I sure could use an escort to my room.”
“You’ll get your sleeping assignment in a minute,” Chad cut in. “First, sign here.”
Keri shook herself, stepping back in self-defense.
Mark winked her direction then leaned over the table to add a swirl of chaos to the bottom of the page. “There you go, love.”
Chad choked for a second before handing over a key. “Your room is on the port side, toward mid ship. You can get extra linens and supplies from the hall storage, and your first shift starts at eleven hundred hours. Report back here and you’ll find your team leader. They’ll get you fitted up and give you any last-minute instructions.”
Mark tilted an imaginary hat at Keri, ignoring Chad completely. “You going to be around? Help me find my sea legs, that kind of thing?”
Keri continued to retreat until her back hit the wall. “I think we’ll end this conversation now, Mr. Weaver. Find your quarters.”
His dark eyes sparkled for a second before he dropped his gaze, stroking his way down her body. She should have felt insulted. She should’ve turned and demanded he treat her with more respect. The words wouldn’t come, mainly because what she really wanted was to strip right there and ride him like a Harley. Feel his power rumbling between her thighs and—
Sweat broke out on her brow, cooling instantly in the air-conditioned room. Mark was out the door before she figured out how to respond further. Keri avoided the blatant question in Chad’s eyes and raced away, slamming through the door that led the opposite direction from where her mystery man had gone. All thoughts of why he’d been chased aboard were lost in the disastrous new revelation that had overtaken her.
This was not good. This was so not good. The situation had gone from troublesome to tortuous in less time than it took for the average wolf pack to consume a prime-rib dinner.
Keri stopped to lean her forehead on the nearest wall. She hit with more force than intended, which was moderately excruciating but somehow appropriate.
In fact, she repeated the move. A couple of times.
Bang. Bang.
The resulting pain made her screw up her face. Bang. She was supposed to be there for her friend and act as a troubleshooter. Bang. Not be the one to cause chaos right under Tessa’s nose. Bang. Not discovering her mate in the midst of the hired help.
Her mate. Oh my word, was it really him?
She flipped around and pressed her shoulders to the wall, letting her head fall back. Instantly drooling over some strange guy wasn’t the problem—shifters were cool about sex, and if she wanted to go knock boots with someone, no one would even blink.
But what her body was doing right now? This was an out-of-the-blue, off-the-charts, do-it-now and do-it-hard attraction. In any shifter’s handbook, she was sure she’d find her symptoms listed as classic he’s the one, accompanied by flashing neon warning lights.
Now the question was, what the heck did she do?
Wolf Line is available now
~~**~~
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About the Author
With over 2 million books sold, Vivian Arend is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 50 contemporary and paranormal romance books, including the Six Pack Ranch and Granite Lake Wolves.
Her books are all standalone reads with no cliffhangers. They’re humorous yet emotional, with sexy-times and happily-ever-afters. Vivian pretty much thinks she’s got the best job in the world, and she’s looking forward to giving readers more HEAs. She lives in B.C. Canada with her husband of many years and a fluffy attack Shitzu named Luna who ignores everyone except when treats are deployed.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Wolf Tracks
Copyright © 2010 by Arend Publishing Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-941456-58-3
Edited by Anne Scott
Cover by Sofie Harley of Hart & Bailey Design Co.
Proofed by Sharon Muha
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations.
First electronic publication: October, 2010
Second electronic publication: May, 2017
www.vivianarend.com