Bonnie Vanak - Incubus Wolf

Alexandra Kosta once knew beauty and privilege as stepdaughter to the Fae king, until he banished her and scarred her for life. Now working as a bounty hunter, she’s tasked with hunting down sexy werewolf Dominic Farrell. But Dominic is also part incubus, possessing the power to seduce any woman into doing his will.

When Alex is injured on the job and Dominic takes her back to his lodge, he agrees to release her—if she will share his bed first. Unlike most men, he doesn’t recoil after seeing Alex in her natural state… and she cannot deny their overwhelming attraction.

But in order to save herself she has to turn Dominic over to the enemy. Can she destroy the one man who loves her as she is?

Incubus Wolf

Bonnie Vanak

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A seedy Alaskan bar was a strange place to search for a rogue werewolf. Then again, Alexandra Kostra had been in more bizarre place.

Maybe if she said it enough, she’d believe it. Believe this last and most dangerous job was a cakewalk. Alex paused, gathering her magick around her like a velvet cloak. Bitter air swirled the dead leaves at her feet, sent them scampering across the graveled parking lot.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated and changed her appearance.

It paid to be a Fae bounty hunter who could glamour.

Thin ribbons of stale cigarette smoke floated on the musty air as she strolled inside. Faded Christmas lights hung from the dusty rafters. From a battered jukebox in the corner, a country singer wailed about losing his dog and his wife. Alex cringed at the smell of spilt beer, spicy chili and cigars and filtered out the scents. Smoky golden light from overhead showed a long scarred wood bar, crowded with men. They swiveled and eyed her like fresh deer meat as the door closed behind her. Alex swore one even drooled.

All except one. The man at the end, drinking a mug of golden liquid, kept his head down, studying his beer. Her quarry.

Alex slid onto a stool, ordered a draft from the big-bellied bartender. He nodded, lust gleaming in his eyes. Disguise was working. Yeehaw. As if a big-breasted redhead dressed in skintight leather and a “come hither” look in her innocent baby blues wouldn’t do the trick. Hell, Alex bet that in this neck of He-Man territory, any breathing woman would suffice.

Except for rugged Dominic Farrell. Even though he hadn’t lifted his head, she could see that no desperation showed in his eyes. He certainly wasn’t possessed of the same avid hunger as the others because there was no shortage of women to warm him on a cold Alaskan night. Women would walk for hours over frozen tundra for just the promise of bliss from his caressing hands, his hard body, his wicked tongue. No woman was safe from him.

Dominic was a hybrid, with incubus blood, which made him a very sexy, very powerful and very dangerous werewolf.

And very difficult to catch and bring back to the demon prison where he’d escaped from six months ago.

The offers started before she’d even settled on the stool. Drink offers, offers of conversation, sad, desperate offers and the blunt offers of sex. Alex smiled politely, bantered with a few men while focusing on Dominic.

A hank of inky black hair hung over his wide forehead. His face was bent toward the mug, a black cowboy hat hiding his expression. He looked average in his faded sheepskin jacket, jeans and red-checked flannel shirt. But even the other men gave him a respectful distance as if they sensed he was trouble.

If the human men knew how deadly those fangs were, how they could rip and pierce and shred to defend a woman Dominic wanted… they’d run outside screaming into the cold night air.

Tonight, though, it seemed like Dominic wasn’t interested in anything but his beer. He stared at it as if it held all life’s mysteries.

Alex opened a button, then another, to show off the body her glamour conjured. Eyes opened wide, the other men leaned closer, their savage appetites in full overdrive. The male attention brought back memories of another era. Men had called her the most beautiful in the land.

Alex shoved aside the bitter thought. Concentrate on your target. Get him to notice you.

But Dominic didn’t even stir.

What, do I have to take off my clothes to get you to notice?

Alex nudged the beer drinker dressed in a red-and-black checked shirt who looked tall as Paul Bunyan. “Who’s that lone wolf?”

Lumberjack dude’s wide smile slipped. “That’s Dominic. Keeps to himself. Not very friendly. You don’t want anything to do with him.”

The man began to sing off key, “Dominic the Donkey.”

Finally, her prey lifted his head, showing lean, rugged features, and eyes of coldest blue. He gave the singer a look that would send the bravest soul running. “You calling me an ass, Wheeler?”

Conversation halted. All heads swiveled to Dominic, then the men stared at their drinks. Power rippled in the air, a subtle tendril that stirred the molecules, thickened the tension. The smell of beer and liquor and stale cologne faded, overtaken by a very male scent of pine forest, rainwater and testosterone.

Dominic’s scent. The other men seemed to shrink within themselves. If they had tails, they’d be lowered.

Alex’s fingers curled around her glass.

Blood draining from his face, Wheeler shook his head. “I’m sorry man. Just kidding. Sorry. You’re no ass. I’m the ass, Dominic.”

Grunting, Dominic tossed a few bills by his half-drained glass, nodded to the bartender. With the slow, stalking grace of a predator, he approached. He gave Wheeler a cold stare, then his gaze fell upon Alex. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened. A lazy smile played on his firm mouth. That smile, so sexy and inviting…

The hurt young girl she’d once been resurfaced. She saw herself, searching out the window for her lover, who’d promised to return. And never had.

You have a job to do.

Alex was a good actress. She lowered her lashes and summoned her sexiest smile. “Leaving so soon, stranger? Don’t want to stay and see what’s on the table?”

He cocked his head, his eyes very blue, like lasers. “Is that an offer, sweetheart?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think you’re up to the challenge.”

He said nothing, but studied her a moment. Then he leaped forward with the savage speed of his kind, pulled her off the stool and into his arms.

The kiss was absorbing, maddening, a fusing of lips. He tasted of cold beer and hot desire. Lazily his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her with possessive intent. Her lower belly clenched hard as her nipples tightened. It was the kiss of a man who wanted to lay a woman down and mount her. The kiss of an incubus, who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

In the corner, the jukebox played “Hot Blooded.” Alex’s mind swirled with a shocked vortex of pleasure. Celibate for the past ten years, she felt her body slowly kick from dormant to sexually charged. She slid her arms around his neck, leaned into him and kissed him back. His beard bristle abraded her cheeks. Beneath the layers of clothing, his body was hard with thick muscle. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he stroked a thumb over her pulse, feeling her heart shift from normal into overdrive.

He released her abruptly, amusement gleaming in those eyes. Except now they weren’t ice-cold, but flaming. He wanted her.

And for a sheer moment, she desperately wanted him back. The deep throbbing between her legs increased. Oh damn, this was not good. She conjured images certain to tamp down the sexual pull, and to her relief, felt the arousal vanish as if someone doused her with icy water.