Terry Spear: Dreaming of the Wolf

Jake glanced back at the woman to see her take on the matter, and his blood instantly heated with ire. A bruiser of a man wearing a dark gray suit towered over her as he motioned for her to leave. When the hell had he entered the restaurant and approached her?

She remained seated, not budging, looking up at the man with loathing as he loomed over her. Jake could see that the man was wearing the hardware to back up his threatening posture, hidden under his jacket and pressed slightly into the fabric as a show of force. He had one hand inserted underneath the jacket, holding the gun.

Like a wolf ready to take down its prey, Jake rose from his booth with a cautious, predatory stalking motion. The man waved the gun underneath his suit jacket again in a sweeping motion toward the door. Defiantly, the woman continued to balk, glaring at him, not moving an inch, not saying a word. Jake admired her stalwart nerve. But he didn’t believe she’d win this argument. Not without a little wolfish backup.

Wishing he had at least asked the waitress the woman’s name before playing his cards, since the waitress seemed to know a good deal about her, Jake stalked across the floor to join her before the beast forced the issue. The woman’s gaze shifted to Jake, eyes widening like pools of melted dark chocolate and drawing him in.

The bulky beast of a man turned to face Jake and narrowed his already beady eyes in confrontation. Jake conveyed a real threat of his own in his posture, just like a wolf would, from his steely gaze to his taut muscles and rigid back. Even the hair on his arms was standing erect, just as his fur would be if he were wearing his wolf coat—another form of intimidation that made him appear bigger, more of a threat.

If anyone could deal with a tyrant like the armed guy in the suit, Jake was the man for the job, with or without a weapon. But fighting the man wasn’t what he had in mind, unless there was no other way around it.

Jake shifted his attention to the lady, offered a friendly smile, spread his hands a little as if in greeting, and said to her, “Julia Roberts!”

His smile broadened as he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek—the part of the plan he liked best—and her eyes were as round as twin full moons as she stared back at him. His hand moved to her back, gently caressing as if he’d known her forever and encouraging her to play along with him. His mouth lingered longer than was necessary on her cool, soft cheek, his free hand taking hers in much too possessive a manner for never having made her acquaintance before. If nothing else, he knew he needed to play his role well if he was going to convince the thug to back off.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here today?” His voice had already changed from darkly interested to huskily enthralled, which wasn’t part of the plan, but more of that wolfish nature he had no control over.

His gaze moved to view her full shimmering lips, now parted in surprise. He wanted to kiss her there, taste her, feel her, sample the sweetness of those lips.

“Tom Hanks,” she said, quickly recovering, winking, and trying for lighthearted, but he saw the look of worry in her darkened eyes.

With his hand to his chest, he feigned being mortally wounded. “Last week I was your Gerard Butler. Tom Hanks this week?” He shook his head, squeezed her hand reassuringly, and gave her one of his more wolfishly friendly smiles. Her hand was icy, and he held on tighter, hoping to show her she had nothing to fear. “Friend of yours, honey?”

“No darlin’,” she said with a drawl that didn’t sound quite real. “He’s mistaken me for someone else.” She cast a brilliant smile at the man and then Jake, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was more of a we’ll-show-you expression aimed at the thug.

Jake rewarded her with a slight tightening on her hand to say, “Well done.”

He was in love. She was someone who could tease like he could on the spur of the moment, someone who could stand up to a man nearly twice her weight who towered over her and was a real threat. She would be perfect for Jake, if she were a wolf. And for the time being, he didn’t give a damn about the ramifications of the problems that could create. A ll he cared about was getting to know the woman better.

“I asked the lady nicely if she’d come with me,” the thug said, his voice thickly menacing. “Now I’m going to ask not so nicely.” A telltale buzzing in the man’s pocket shut him up. He pulled out a cell phone and gruffly said, “Hello?” His icy slate-colored eyes stared Jake down, threatening him to back off or else.

Jake wasn’t intimidated. The challenge suited him.

Face-to-face wolfish confrontations were much easier to deal with than sneaky underhandedness.

He remained standing next to what he assumed was an armed damsel in distress, although he wanted to remove her from the powder keg of a situation. The men in the vehicles out front were most likely just as armed, so he was certain he’d be no match for all of them, even if the woman had a cannon underneath her jacket.

He might not be the pack leader in Silver Town, but he was just as alpha as his older brother and had no qualms about taking this man or anyone else down. But as a lupus garou, he was mindful of which battles to fight and which to leave alone. Going against a whole army of trigger-happy thugs wasn’t in the plan.

The man nodded as if responding to the caller, then shoved his phone into his pocket. He scowled at Jake, then the woman, directing his comments at her. “Just so’s you know, next time, you won’t get off so easy.”

Then he turned, nearly stumbled over the chair in his way, and cursed a string of swear words. After shoving the chair out of the way, he sauntered off like a disgruntled lumbering grizzly. Several customers looked up from their meals and glowered at him for disturbing the peace with such a vulgar commentary as he made his way out of the restaurant.

“I’d recommend we leave, but they’ve got more guns outside, so it would be prudent if we stay a little longer.”

Jake slid into the booth with her so they could talk more privately. Although she quickly scooted over to allow him room, his leg still touched hers, and the shock of it sent heat sliding through him.

But what made him even hotter was that she didn’t pull away. Even though the intimation was that this was her booth, her table, and she wasn’t going to be forced into the corner, the challenge in her posture only intrigued him more. But her eyes—which were now focused on his mouth—were what really got his attention.

His gaze strayed again to her lips. Upon closer inspection, he saw glittering speckles of cinnamon sugar just before her tongue slipped out and moistened her bottom lip, as if she was suddenly conscious of something on her lips that she needed to wipe away quickly. But she’d missed some at the corners and the top of her luscious lips, and he was dying to taste them and her.

Trying to get his mind off the reaction his body was having in close proximity to hers and the sensuous way she licked her lips as if preparing them for a kiss, and wanting to know just what this business was with the mobsters, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Jake tilted his head toward the table where the two men now ate their breakfast in silence, indicating that he knew the woman sitting beside him had been watching them with more than casual interest. He wanted to know just what was going on with the lady. Especially since he’d had to rescue her once already. And he suspected she might need his services again if she continued what she was doing.

He didn’t expect her to tell him anything, since he suspected she was working undercover. But he was beginning to have his doubts about that because he was fairly sure she would have a partner. And the notion that her mother had Mob connections still lingered in his thoughts.