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No one had ever affected her in this way, and the knowledge terrified her. For the first time in her life Rachel found herself staring into empty space without anything to say.

Coming to The Wolf’s Den was a very bad idea.

Of all the dumb fucking luck.

Declan Schroder strode down the hall, trying to calm down and get his throbbing cock under control.

Talk about a complex female.

The woman who’d walked into his building was all attitude with a fuck-with-me-and-regret-it glare, lithe frame and intriguing face. The little minx had gotten his blood pumping, making his dick harden to the point of pain. As a male, he couldn’t resist the challenge she’d issued. There was no give in her, zero softness. Even if she’d been aroused by his flirting, she’d blown him off good and proper. She’d be a hellion in the sack, giving as good as she got.

Stop thinking with the wrong head. Just Rachel has to wait.

Another visitor had thrown a wrench into what could have been a very good time. Fuck if it didn’t piss him off. Just once he’d like to relax and unwind without having to do the right thing.

Goddamn Simone.

It was bad enough dealing with the bothersome bitch the evening before. Talking to the obtuse female before he’d even settled into his routine burned like a rash beneath his skin. Not to mention she’d arrived at a shitty time. She needed to take a hint and find some other dumb schmuck to fuck around with.

“Declan,” Simone purred as she turned from the framed tattoo flash on the wall.

She’d dressed to impress in a skimpy top and skirt, her long black hair hanging in bouncy curls down her back. Fortunately werewolves had higher body temperatures and could handle the cold. Otherwise she’d have to do the respectable thing and wear modest attire for a change.

She shifted her feet, her high heels clicking on the floor, and her full, cherry-red lips dipped into a frown. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

I’ll take understatement of the fucking millennium for five hundred, Alex.

“I’m never happy to see people who come in without making an appointment.”

“Then I’ll make this quick.”

As she approached he had to force himself not to laugh. Simone knew he wasn’t interested but she didn’t stop playing her stupid games, shifting her hips from side to side, making her legs flex with each step. Sure, the female had a great body—one that was blessed by werewolf genetics—but the central command center between her ears was no longer in service.

“I went to see Jackson this morning but he wasn’t home. Do you know where I can find him?”

Here we go. “I’m his second-in-command, not his secretary.”

“Oh come on. Everyone knows Jackson tells you everything. That’s why you’re his Beta.” She stopped at the counter and leaned over it, revealing huge breasts that strained to escape the lacy material confining them. “I have something I want to give him. You’re ruining my surprise.”

“It wouldn’t be an STD, would it? I don’t think he’d be too thankful for a gift that keeps on giving.” As soon as the words came out he wanted to kick himself in the ass. He just couldn’t help himself sometimes.

Thankfully the insult floated right over her head. “That’s you, always making a joke of things.”

I wonder what she’d say if I told her it wasn’t a joke?

He quickly moved away from the temptation of actually asking the question, shrugging. “Life would be boring without a little spice.”

“I agree.” Simone’s dark blue eyes lifted a shade and her smile went from playful to seductive. “That’s why I need to talk to Jackson. Once he understands what I can bring to the table he’ll know why we’re meant to bring the packs together. It doesn’t have to be all work. I know how to play.”

“I just bet you do.” He lowered his arms and slid his hands into his pockets before he did something stupid, like snatch Simone up and march her shameless ass outside. “Like I said, I’m not his secretary. If he’s not home he probably had things he needed to do. Call his cell and leave a message. I’m sure he’ll get back to you when he’s got a minute to spare.”

Or when hell freezes over.

“Well…” She frowned and glanced at the arm he’d inked, studying her slightly reddened skin. “What if I waited here? He’s bound to show up sooner or later. You could work on my design. It definitely could use more color.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m booked.”

He peered down the hall, thinking about the fiery temptress with wild strawberry-red hair and eyes the color of the morning sky. He wondered if she’d stayed where he’d put her. A part of him hoped she hadn’t so he could make good on his threat.

“In fact,” he continued, “you interrupted me while I was speaking to a client. I need to get to work.”

“Tell him I’m looking for him.” Her voice took on a harsh edge, becoming serious. “You boys can only play games for so long. I think you should know my father consented to the match. Unless Jackson wants to piss him off, he’ll make sure he finds time to see me. Make sure your Alpha knows that.”

Shit.

He kept his mouth shut, knowing his smartass remarks would no longer be welcome. He watched as she walked across the room and left the building. It wasn’t until the door closed that he released the breath he’d been holding.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The pack already had enough going on without dealing with an arranged mating. Jackson would hit the roof when he found out what Simone had been up to. Her father—Ward Wilson—wasn’t the most easygoing werewolf in the area, and everyone knew he worshipped his only child.

Shaking his head, he headed back down the hall. At least there was one thing to look forward to. He was about to discover if his unexpected guest did as she was told. He growled when he opened the door. Not only was she not where he’d left her but the little hellion had given him the slip.

He didn’t bother looking out the opened window, rushing back down the hall instead. He heard a car start followed by the sound of grinding gravel. He ran across the sitting area and opened the door, knowing he was too late.

Damn it.

She’d already pulled onto the road. With a grin, she punched the gas and flipped him off. He wasn’t good at reading lips but her mouthed “Fuck you” came out loud and clear. Surprisingly the offensive gestures didn’t make him angry. Instead his cock rose, stiff against his zipper. His wolf stirred inside him—not for the first time since he’d met the ballsy female—brushing against the inside of his skin. The beast wanted to nip at her flesh and mark her as its own. He wondered what it meant, confused by something he couldn’t explain.

The woman was attractive and he’d love to spend time between the sheets with her, but she was human. There hadn’t been dreamsharing. Since she didn’t have a hint of wolf in her, there probably wouldn’t be. The likelihood of finding his mate—a mate connected to Chloe of all people—was slim to none.

Maybe it was something else, like the recent drought of sex brought about by work, pack and other responsibilities. He hadn’t gotten laid in months. That certainly didn’t help matters.

Still…

He stomped into the parlor and took a deep breath.

Honeysuckle and linen greeted him—Just Rachel’s alluring scent calling to his beast. His wolf rumbled a throaty growl, wanting to track the female down, bend her over his lap and bust her softly rounded ass. He’d keep her hanging on the edge of climax between swats, teasing her clit, making her regret her reckless behavior. Only when she begged for relief would he give her what she wanted, sliding his cock into the haven of her cunt, taking her so hard and fast her eyes would cross.