“Who are you taking?”
The question was asked with a seductive coyness that nearly made Max shudder. He suppressed it; he couldn’t afford a sign of weakness. “At present, no one.”
The chill in his voice should have made her back off. Instead, the stupid woman took it as a challenge.
“Oh?” Her lashes fluttering coyly, she reached out with one manicured finger. When her blood red claw touched his chest, Max snarled a warning, his eyes flashing gold as the Puma warned her off.
With a gasp she backed away. Her head dipped in submission, an instinctive response to the Alpha power Max now exuded. It surrounded him in an unseen cloud, forcing all before him to do his will. Max rarely found himself in need of it, but today she’d pushed too far. She slowly backed away from him as a growl rumbled in his chest. He kept it going until she was completely out of Simon’s workshop, pissed beyond belief at her persistence.
“Okay, I gotta admit, that was probably more effective than ‘Fuck off, you skanky ho’. Think she got the message?”
And that was why Simon was his Beta—he’d flinched but stood his ground, something none of the other Pumas could do. Their reactions were more akin to Livia’s when he chose to exercise his power.
He was also one of the few people Max trusted completely. If anything were to happen to Max, Simon would become Alpha.
Max turned with a laughing snort to answer his buddy’s question when Simon’s phone rang. His Beta punched the speakerphone button, still grinning at Max. “Hello?”
“Simon?” The voice on the other end of the phone drawled Simon’s name with an amused authority that had Max’s eyebrows rising into his hairline. He waited for Simon to put the woman in her place.
Simon rolled his eyes. “Hey, Emma.”
Max blinked. Emma? Emma Carter?
“Your stained glass Madonna is late. Reverend Glaston is getting antsy.”
Max blinked again. That sexy voice was Emma?
“I’ve been…distracted.” That last was said with a quick glance at Max. He’d been the one keeping
Simon busy. As Beta, Simon took care of a great deal of Pride business, something Emma wouldn’t know about.
“Well, could you please ask your distraction to go home so you can finish the reverend’s window?”
Her tone of voice raised Max’s brows back into his hairline. His Beta’s reaction had his jaw nearly dropping open.
“Emma,” Simon nearly whined, “I’ve been working night and day, here. Give me a break!”
Emma?!? Plump little wallflower Emma?
“Just who have you been working, Simon Holt?”
Emma, who couldn’t look him in the eye, making double entendres?
“No one, damn it! I’ve been working on…other things.” Again, Simon shot Max a quick, furtive look.
Emma? Emma had his Beta shaking in his sneakers?
“Well, get your thing back under control and finish the reverend’s window, okay?”
The irreverent authority in her voice stirred his interest. A vision of a dark-haired girl in a sunset colored prom gown flashed through his mind.
“Damn it, Emma!” Simon sighed, leaning back against his workbench. “Where’s Becky?”
The entreaty in Simon’s voice barely registered. Max was waiting to hear Emma’s voice again.
“Oh, no, don’t think you can get out of having that window finished today by sweet-talking Becky. I’m on to your tricks, buster.”
Simon winced. Max’s cock twitched.
Emma?
Hmmm. Emma .
“Okay, okay. I’ll have the damn window done today. Anything else, Little General?” Simon’s shoulders were quaking with laughter, his voice filled with respect. Max frowned at the affection in his Beta’s voice.
“Mm-hmm. Becky and I will be going to the masquerade. Just thought you’d like to know.”
Emma would be at the masquerade? Suddenly he was dying to see her. How had she turned out? Was she as sexy as her voice implied?
“Oh, yeah.” The purr in Simon’s voice had Max frowning. The small, predatory smile had his eyes flashing gold in protest as a wave of possessiveness rose inside him. The owner of that voice was his .
“Mm-hmm. See you later? With the window?”
“Count on it. Bye, Emma.”
“Later, Simon.”
Simon hung up the phone, that sexy smile still on his face. When he turned back, Max had himself back under control, merely raising a brow at Simon.
Simon flushed. “What?”
“When are you delivering that window?”
Simon looked over at the window waiting for its finishing touches. “Probably just after lunch. Why?”
“I’m going with you.” Max grinned.
Simon straightened up, frowning slightly in confusion. “Why? I thought you had some other things to deal with.”
“I want to check something out.” At Simon’s raised brow, Max’s grin widened.
“Man, I’m not sure you want to go there.”
Max’s grin faded. “Why not?”
“Because Wallflowers has been known to suck the testosterone out of every single male who’s ever entered.”
“Huh?”
“It’s pink. And frou-frou. And lacy. And pink .”
Max laughed as Simon shuddered. “If your masculinity can handle it, so can mine.”
Max watched his friend work on the stained glass window, his mind once again turning to Emma.
He hadn’t seen her in eight years. She’d been seventeen, just about ready to graduate, smiling and laughing at the prom in a way he’d rarely seen her do. She’d been striking in her dress, a one-of-a-kind done in the colors of a rich autumn sunset, a strapless number in reds and golds with a sweetheart neckline and flaring skirt. He’d had a hard time keeping his eyes off her, but he’d been with Livia, and Max was not a man who cheated. By the time he’d broken up with Livia it was time for him to leave once again for college. Between earning his doctorate in optometry, his internship and residency, and learning from Jonathon how to run the Pride during his summers off, Emma had been quickly forgotten.
Going out of state for college had been the right choice for him, and he’d been lucky that Jonathon agreed with him. Now, with his partnership with Adrian and Jonathon’s official retirement he could finally start looking for his Curana. And he had a feeling he knew just who he wanted for the position.
She’d been sweetly innocent back then; slightly overweight, but with serious curves. It had been that innocence, and Livia, that had held him back.
She didn’t sound so innocent now, and Livia was nowhere in the picture.
It was definitely time he got better acquainted with little Miss Emma.
Emma watched as Simon’s shiny red pickup truck pulled up to the curb of Wallflowers. She grinned, knowing Becky had hidden in the back office to avoid meeting up with Simon. Simon was the only person on the face of the planet who made Becky lose the power of speech. In an odd, karmic sort of way, Emma had no problem handling the hunky Simon, laughing and chatting with him with ease.
Emma watched Simon climb out of the truck. The passenger side opened up as well, and a familiar tall blond got out, a grin on his face, his unbound hair blown about by the cool autumn breeze.
Emma was horrified. Oh, no. Not him! She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was no longer the shy teenager he’d once known; she was a grown woman with a shop of her own. She could handle Max Cannon.
Then he grinned at something Simon said, and her hands began to shake. She took another quick breath and blew it out, trying desperately to steady her racing heart.