Jessica Sims - Wanted - Wild Thing

I sighed, trying not to feel jealous of my friend, and stared around the empty office. I fired up the coffeemaker again. If I wasn’t going to have anyone to talk to, I was going to need some major caffeine. I loved caffeine—it made me jittery and awake. And I adored jittery, because when I relaxed, it was easier to lose control of the monster side if a male client touched me. If I was cranked up on caffeine, it was harder to relax and get aroused.

So, coffee? My friend. I used caffeine pills, NoDoz, Red Bull, energy drinks, and anything else that could keep me hopped up, but coffee was my favorite vice.

While the pot gurgled, I sipped the sugary concoction I’d made before and headed back to my desk to tackle my to-do pile. At the top of my list was upcoming activities for our singles. We’d had a wine tasting last week, but no one had shown up except vampires. Big strikeout; no one wanted to date vampires. Well, except Marie.

Things were usually complicated around here. I still had bad memories about the time I’d set up a nice werewolf guy with an anxious were-bobcat lady. First rule of a supernatural dating agency—don’t mix cats and dogs.

I sighed, thinking of Josh and Marie. I wanted a big hunky were-cougar boyfriend, too. I’d take were-anything, actually. I’d even take human. Nothing wrong with a little normal in a guy. Unfortunately, none of my dates went past the first one, thanks to my monster.

No sense in dwelling on it; I’d only end up in a bad mood. I turned on some upbeat music and was soon singing along and dancing around the office, my blond pigtails whipping about my head as I boogied between my desk and the copier in the back room, creating flyers and printing them for an upcoming mixer.

The cowbell on the front door clanged, and I called, “Be right there!”

Probably Savannah. Several months pregnant, the poor girl still had morning sickness, afternoon sickness, night sickness, and anytime-she-smelled-anything-at-all-sickness.

But when I entered the main part of the office, I stopped in my tracks, surprised to see two men. One was a nearly seven-foot-tall, muscle-bound guy with weird hair and weirder clothing that looked like something out of a historical movie.

And the other was . . . well, he looked like Ryan Gosling in a leisure suit, but the odds of a movie star showing up here were slim to none. Which meant he was a fae prince.The fae occasionally used our service; my guess was that they got bored with finding their own dates. They were weird customers, though. They liked to use their glamours to take on the appearance of famous actors, and they always had a bit of a chip on their shoulders when it came to humans. Like we should bow down and kiss their feet in gratitude for being able to serve them.

I usually let the others deal with fae, since I found their attitude boorish, but tonight it fell to me to be the welcoming committee. “Hi, there,” I said in a chipper voice, beaming a smile at the two men as I turned the radio down. “Welcome to Midnight Liaisons.”

The blond, smaller man—the prince—studied me and gave me a slow, pleased smile. “Well, aren’t you the cutest thing?”

Ugh. “Thank you! How can I help you gentlemen? Do you have profiles set up in the system? One of you is clearly fae and the other . . .” I stared at the big bruiser. You usually couldn’t tell just by looking at someone, and a fair number of Alliance guys were big and scary. But this guy . . . this guy exuded danger and wildness. I couldn’t help but draw back a little at the sight of him.

“I’m here to meet someone,” the prince said.

“Oh?” I pulled up my datebook and didn’t see anything marked. “Did you arrange something with one of the other dating specialists?”

“Actually, you’re the person I came here to see.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, but I kept it cool. “Oh?”

He moved closer, that delighted smile still on his face, and circled around me. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

“Thank you,” I said, “but I’m afraid I don’t recognize you as one of my clients.”

His lip curled. “As if I’d use your cute little service.”

“I don’t understand why you’re here, then?” I glanced at the big bruiser behind him, but the man said nothing. The more I looked at him, the scarier he seemed. I decided to avoid looking at him after that.

“Why, I’m here to see you, precious.” The fae’s tone became sweet and soothing. “I wanted to see how my little prize was coming along, and it looks like you’re almost ripe for the picking.”

“Ripe . . . for the picking?” Who was this guy? “Excuse me?”

“Come now, my little changeling. Don’t act so surprised.” He reached out and stroked my arm.

Scales prickled to the surface, and I jerked away from him, wide-eyed with shock. “How . . . how did you know?” I’d never told anyone I was a changeling. Marie knew that I transformed into something yucky (she’d caught me mid-act once), but she never asked questions and I never volunteered answers.

Yet this man knew instantly what I was.

He gave me a gorgeous smile. “Why, how do you think you got here? Into the earth realm?”

Earth . . . realm? Huh?

Just then, the door banged open and Savannah rushed in. “I am so sorry, Ryder,” she began, her cheeks flushed. “I’m late, but I’m here now.”

“No problem,” I said, gesturing to my two “clients” to wait for me as I stepped over to Savannah’s desk. I was a master of fakery, so I pulled her chair out for her, acting as if nothing was wrong. “You take a seat. I’m with a couple of clients, but once I’m done, we’ll review tonight’s dating logs, okay?”

She gave me a grateful look and dropped into her seat. “Okay.” It was only eight at night, and she already looked exhausted. Rough pregnancy and a new job to boot, but she never complained.

“Sara left the mail for you; why don’t you handle that for now?” I said as I picked up the rubber-banded bundle on the corner of her desk and held it out to her. “And drink some water.”

“I will,” she said meekly, taking the mail from me.

“Now,” I said brightly as I turned to the fae prince and his scary friend. “Why don’t we go to a conference room and continue our conversation?”

“But of course,” the prince said in that silky-smooth manner.

I ushered them into a conference room and shut the door, then turned on a CD of classical music. The big lug stared straight ahead, but the prince raised an eyebrow at me. “Mood music?”

“It ensures privacy for our clients,” I told him. “Several of our species have very keen hearing.”

“Of course.”

“Who are you?” I asked as he sat at the round table. The guard—I’d come to think of him that way—thumped into the chair next to him. I sat across from both, not trusting them. This man knew who and what I was. Surely he’d have more answers for me.

“Yes, I suppose you would ask that, wouldn’t you?” He leaned back lazily in his chair, looking for all the world as if he’d been invited to the most boring party on earth and was only deigning to be here because he had to. “My name is Finian.” He studied his long fingers and perfect nails. “No last name. That’s a human affectation, and I most certainly am not human.” He smiled at me, and his eyes gleamed iridescent for a brief moment, shining all colors of the rainbow, like a soap bubble.

I was fascinated despite myself, unable to look away. “Who’s your friend?”

Finian’s gaze flicked to the hulking man at his side. “He is unimportant.”

Unimportant said nothing, which was no surprise.

“How did you know what I was?” I asked. “How could you tell?” I’d been around shifters for a year and had seen fae on several occasions, and no one had ever figured out my secret. My guess was that I smelled just as human as everyone else.