Helen was snapped out of her musings by this statement.
No shit, Sherlock, she thought, rolling her eyes at the man’s ignorance. Dolores Black had been selected precisely because she had no personal relationships to speak of. No friends or family to miss her after she’d been taken, confined, and eventually sold to an off-planet buyer in need of a human mate. If Lola had had a bona fide fiancé, Helen would have moved onto the next ex-concubine on her list of prospects. But Chief Dennis didn’t need to know that.
“Why do you think they aren’t mates?” she asked, injecting surprise into her voice.
“She’s not marked, he’s not marked,” he said simply. “They don’t carry the scent of mates. Their story is that they are waiting to tell his family before they officially mate. But that’s not the wolf way. Even if she’s human.”
Helen hadn’t given much thought to how shifters mated, so this was news to her. The chief had a more than a casual interest in Phelan and Dolores, and that was something Helen had to keep in the back of her mind as she told the chief what to do next.
“For now, I want you to keep an eye on her,” said Helen.
“Ma’am?” he said.
“Just keep an eye on them. Don’t do anything else,” she stated firmly.
“You sure? I thought you wanted them back in Dallas?” he asked, trying, and failing to sound casual.
“Them” not “her.” Definitely obsessed with the shifter.
She made a mental note to find out why the chief showed such interest in the enforcer.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, her voice as cold as ice.
“But” Dennis started, only to be cut off by Helen.
"I was told you knew everything that happens in Perdition. I’m paying you well for the information. Am I talking to the right person for this operation?”
"Yes, yes you are," he said nervously. “I’ll keep an eye on them, ma’am.”
"You do that,” she said, disconnecting the secure audio.
As she finished her coffee, she used a voice command to pull up Phelan Cermak’s background information. She found the connection between him and Robert “Bubba” Cermak, both of whom worked for the same enforcement agency and were second cousins. Both men had sealed juvenile records she could not immediately access. She frowned at that and made another mental note to follow up later.
Next, she decided to look more closely at Dolores. She pulled up the numbered investment accounts the concubine had tried so hard to keep hidden. Helen had gone looking for additional information on the concubine when the kidnapping had gone sideways, but hadn’t had a chance to review the information before now.
Helen’s eyes went wide in astonishment when she saw the balance. Regular deposits for the past two years of various amounts. Money went into her account, but didn’t come out again.
She’s saving for something.
Helen couldn’t help but admire the concubine’s discipline and drive. Whatever Dolores was saving for was very important to her. So important that she’d gone through great lengths to conceal the bank records, going so far as to stash the money in a numbered account.
What would Dolores Black do if her money mysteriously went “poof”? Would it be enough to smoke her out of Perdition?
Helen thought it would. She glanced at her treadmill, ruefully. She was already running behind this morning, and now she had another task to see to before reporting to work. She wouldn’t have time to get in her workout.
Helen spent the next few minutes taking care of Lola’s money. When that was done, she called Chief Dennis again.
“Ma’am?” he answered the communication, sounding puzzled.
“Chief,” Helen purred into the phone. “There’s been a development. I have a message I want you to give Dolores Black.”
Chapter 31
Phelan awoke to a missing mate and the sound of drawers banging downstairs. Bare ass naked, he descended the loft ladder to find Lola.
She was in the kitchen assembling the makings of a late morning breakfast on the counter. She still had on the poufy satin headscarf she’d insisted on donning right before they’d passed out from the previous night’s marathon fuckfest.
Her breasts moved freely underneath one of his old Texas A&M t-shirts, and he wondered if she was completely naked underneath. It reached mid-thigh on her, so he couldn’t be certain. If this was her usual morning look, he heartily approved.
She glanced at him with a welcoming smile, but didn't stop her preparations. He stepped behind her and took her in his arms. He pressed his groin into her back and leaned in to nibble at her neck. She smelled like soap, as if she’d already showered.
“Good morning to you. And your morning wood,” she told him cheerfully as she stirred what looked like blueberry pancake batter in one of his mother’s old earthenware bowls.
She kept her eyes on the bowl, but she smiled a little when he rubbed his stubbly face into her neck, then nipped it lightly with his teeth. Soon, he hoped to leave his mating bite on her in this exact spot.
“Good morning, mate,” he mumbled into the crook of her neck. “This is definitely not morning wood. This is Lola-dick.” He gave her a little hip swivel to emphasize his point.
She cocked her head and gave him a look over her shoulder that communicated that again?
“I thought we covered this last night?” she asked, bumping him softly with her butt. This brought their conversation of the night before to the forefront of his mind. Turns out, the mating habits of wolf shifters were not appropriate pillow talk, and could, in fact, irritate one’s human fated mate. His firm confidence in their compatibility did little to sway her to the cause, and when it was time for sleep, she turned her back on him, rolled up in her own blanket.
He slid his large hands underneath the t-shirt and over her flat belly to give her firm breasts a quick squeeze.
"I meant what I said last night. You and I are mates. I knew it the moment I saw you."
"I have no doubt that you believe we are mates. However, I'm human. We don't believe in that stuff.”
That “stuff”? Was she for real?
He held her as she cracked eggs into an earthenware bowl, inhaling her scent. He chuckled.
“Lots of shifters are mated to humans," he told her. "Fate brought us together. Think about it. I was the man who appeared when you needed help the most. You think that was a coincidence?"
"You told me there was a team of enforcers tracking potential targets. By your own admission, I was one of several women that fit the creature’s profile. If I hadn't been there, someone very similar to me would have," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Oh, that's where you're wrong," he said, nuzzling her neck. "There's no one like you. My beast responds to you only."
He felt her stiffen then melt slightly. He was getting through to her.
"Do you mean to tell me that you were a virgin when we met?" she asked tartly.
“No, course not,” he laughed. “But you can't tell me that last night wasn't the best sex of your life." He licked her ear and went to nuzzle in her hair, but was stopped by her bonnet.
“Can I take this off?”
She removed it herself and tossed it on the kitchen counter. Her gravity-defying hair stood up like a troll doll, one side smashed to her head as if she’d fallen asleep lying on her side, and hadn’t moved all night. Which he knew was true.
"Well, it was pretty spectacular as one-night stands go..." She turned around to face him, and flashed him a brilliant smile. "I truly enjoyed it. And you know I do work in a brothel, so I'm not exactly inexperienced."
She works in a brothel? Did she think he hadn’t notice?
“I can tell you without a doubt, you are the best sex of my life,” he said, rubbing his nose into the crook of her neck. He knew he was scent marking her, but he couldn’t help himself. The urge to give her the mating mark was too strong. He needed to do something, and scent marking would have to do in lieu of his mating bit
e.
“It was great,” she said in a gentle tone, “but you know at some point I have to go back to Dallas. Back to my own life.”
He froze, her words sending a shock of pain through him. He stepped away from her to walk around the kitchen breakfast bar and sit on one of the stools. She carried on preparing breakfast with a pleasant, detached expression on her face. His eyes narrowed on her.
“You think that was a one-night stand?” he asked in a disbelieving tone.
She let out a bark of hollow laughter. “Well, I’ll be here for the next couple of days, right? So not exactly a one-night stand.” She gave him a wry smile.
He sucked in a deep breath and pondered her reaction with disbelief. It was clear she wanted him. She’d just admitted it. This short time wouldn’t be enough for her, it couldn’t be. He dragged a hand through his hair in frustration and gave his scalp a vigorous scratch. He got up and paced, watching her from the corner of his eye.
She was human, and even though she was experienced in matters of the flesh, she knew nothing of the ways of wolves. He would have to be patient with her. He turned to study her.
She briskly whisked eggs in the bowl and set the bowl to the side. Next, she squeezed blobs of sausage into her palms and with quick, nimble movements, formed each into a patty. She arranged the sausage patties in a cast iron pan set on top of the cooktop, then turned the flame medium-low. During all of this, she seemed not to notice his agitation.
"So, I found bacon, patty sausage, and link sausage in the cooler. I’m only making patty sausage. I'm assuming you don't want to eat all three, correct?" she said as she moved to the sink and washed her hands.
He watched her carefully, trying to gauge if she was truly this unfazed. Swallowing his unease, he sat down again. He leaned forward on the stool and stared at her. She must have sensed his eyes on her because she turned away from the sink and looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“What?” she asked him, confusion written on her face.
“What’re you so eager to get back to?” He truly wanted to know. Suddenly, he was hit with the alarming thought that she might have a man waiting for her back in Dallas. “Is there someone else?”
“You think I’d have sex with you if I was in a relationship?” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a hard stare.
The truth was, he didn’t know what to think. She wasn’t making any sense. Not at all.
“I live in Dallas, too, you know,” he stated. “My long-term plan is to move back to Perdition someday. But we can be together in Dallas until I can work things out for us to move here.”
His whole life, Phelan never once considered living with his mate and raising a family in a big city. He didn't want to raise pups someplace where they couldn't roam free. The big city afforded him career opportunities he wouldn't have in Perdition, but it was always his intention to settle down in the shifter town of his youth.
“But I don’t want to live in a small town,” she said, looking shocked. She finished in a sputtering rush of words, “And it’s much too soon to be talking about something so permanent.”
She shook her head at him, as if to deny all that he said. He felt his dreams of a life with her crumbling to dust before his eyes. “What?”
“God, don’t look at me like that!” she exclaimed, her emotional distress plain to see.
“Lola–” He started to speak, standing again and moving, wanting to take her in his arms and soothe her pain, even as his own was tearing him apart.
“It would never work, Phelan.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. Her calm demeanor evaporated and her face crumpled. Her eyes were sad.
He rounded the corner of the breakfast bar, and she moved away from him, shaking her head.
“Sweetheart–” he began, his voice breaking with emotion.
“We don’t even know each other,” she said.
“I know what I need to know.” He looked into her skeptical eyes. “You’re tough, independent. Creative. Beautiful.” He walked toward her cautiously. He didn’t want to spook her again.
When she didn’t back away, he pulled her in his arms gently, willing his dick to behave so that it didn’t appear all he wanted from her was sex.
She sighed and held tense for a moment before she melted into him, her head on his chest. His beast liked protecting her, holding her, but his stupid dick did what dicks do when a naked man embraces a half-naked woman.
“Oh, wow,” she let out a shaky laugh.
“And you turn me on,” he told her, stating the obvious to lighten the mood.
He held her until her breathing returned to normal.
Then he told her, “Let’s eat. Then I can take a shower, get dressed, and we’ll find something to do for the rest of the day. Okay?”
She nodded into his chest.
They shared a meal filled with awkward silences while Phelan pondered how to bring back the lighthearted mood of the night before. Belatedly, he realized it was the wrong time to spring the news of their mating on Lola.
He was halfway through a quick shower when his wolf hearing picked up knocking at the front door, followed by the faint traces of familiar scents.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered to himself when he realized who was there. He rinsed off quickly, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel which he wrapped around his hips.
In the great room, he found Lola pulling at the hem of the oversized t-shirt. Fortunately, it covered enough for modesty’s sake, but not much more. She smiled nervously at the two people in the doorway eyeing Lola with friendly smiles. He realized as they stood next to each other how much they towered over her.
He also realized, with a sinking feeling, they had the kind of smiles that said, “finally, we are getting some grandkids.”
Better to get this over with, he thought ruefully.
He walked to the front door and embraced his parents. Then he draped an arm around Lola’s shoulders.
“Mom, Dad. This is Lola.” He barely bit back saying my mate but he could tell from their expressions that it didn't matter whether or not he’d said it.
They already knew.
Chapter 32
Lola squirmed as she looked up at the tall people crowding the threshold of the cabin. Then she smiled as if she weren’t actually half-dressed and answering the front door. Maybe she was distracted by all that had happened to her in the past couple of days. The attack in the city, the carnival, the best sex of her life. Oh, and that whole mating business. Under normal circumstances, she would check first to see who was at the door before opening it.
She knew from the striking similarities of these two faces to that of her so-called mate, that they could only be Phelan’s parents.
Well, shit.
The woman had Phelan’s mesmerizing turquoise eyes set in a female face with pale skin and blonde hair. The man had jet black hair liberally sprinkled with white strands, a strong jaw, very dark eyes, and a smattering of intense freckles. They both wore jeans, t-shirts, and light leather jackets. Together, they looked like a vibrant, fiftyish couple from a vitamin advertisement. When Phelan joined the three of them, damp from his shower and wearing only a towel around his lean hips, Lola felt like a member of the Lollipop Guild in the Land of Oz. Everyone was at least a foot taller than her.
Lola smiled and nodded through the introductions, acutely aware that she and Phelan were both underdressed for the occasion. She resisted the urge to tug again at the hem of the t-shirt she wore. She was acutely aware of the small aches that came from good, pounding sex with underused muscles.
She hoped Phelan didn’t turn around and let them see his back. Earlier, when Phelan had casually strolled to the bathroom to take a shower after breakfast, she’d been appalled to see her scratch marks all over his back. She resisted the urge to finger the love bites he’d left on her neck the night before. Hopefully his parents wouldn’t notice those either.
As she brought in the two small suitcases from the front
porch—enough for a stay of a week or so—she thought she saw in the distance a delivery truck she had also seen in town and surmised that Mr. Richards had left them.
Were they planning to stay at the cabin?
"Hello dear, it’s so good to meet you." The older woman smiled at Lola with a penetrating yet affable expression that was so much like Phelan’s. She spoke with a bouncy Irish accent and Lola remembered Phelan mentioning his parents were immigrants.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” said Lola, putting her hand out for a handshake, which Bridget ignored. Lola was pulled into a friendly hug, and she was relieved Bridget bent to hug her, since she didn’t want to faceplant into the woman’s boobs.
"Uhhh," Lola squeaked, wondering how she could extract herself without coming across as rude. Phelan must have caught her distress.
“Mama, let go of Lola,” Phelan said in a low tone.
Lola was pried away from the older woman’s embrace and tucked protectively into Phelan’s side. The heat of his bare skin warmed her through the thin material of her t-shirt.
Bridget crossed her arms over her bosom. “Fine. Then tell me why we had to hear from Mr. Richards that you’re mated? And engaged?”
"And you came all the way here from Belize to fuss at me?" he asked. Lola could only agree with how annoying this was. When it was time to go, she wanted to do it with a minimum of fuss and guilt.
Bridget’s eyes shot daggers at her son. A few steps away, Phelan's father observed the proceedings with the penetrating gaze of a predator and Lola remembered that Phelan had said alphas ran in the Cermak line.
When Phelan’s mother turned to look Lola, her expression was fond and full of warmth. Suddenly, Lola understood the meaning of the other woman’s warm smiles and welcoming demeanor. The gleam in Bridget Cermak’s eyes spoke volumes as she looked at her ersatz daughter-in-law as if she expected grandchildren to start popping out of Lola like a clown car at the circus.
Lola spoke up. “Ma’am, it’s my fault. I wanted Phelan to meet my family before we made it official. Phelan wanted to show me the town where he grew up. Then we were going to New Orleans, where I’m from, so that Phelan could meet my foster mother.”
The Wolf's Concubine Page 18