Page 12 of Protecting The Gray Wolf
“There’s another. A companion piece.” Her voice was soft and breathy, the way it had been after he’d kissed her in the dream.
Even as he cautioned himself it was too soon, that he risked undoing the good he’d done, he slowly lowered his head. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t back away. Their lips met in a featherlight touch. The impact nearly sent him to his knees. As incredible as the fantasy had been, it was nothing compared to the real thing.
A noise broke the sensual spell. His wolf growled. Her pushy coworker was trying to spy on them. Cursing the man’s timing and himself for starting something he couldn’t finish. Kade swiveled around and glared at Tony. “Did you want something?”
The younger man pulled his temper in check and forced a smile. “Just checking on the progress.”
He lifted the painting. “Almost done.” He narrowed his gaze and sent out a pulse of power. Luna gasped while Tony turned sheet white before turning tail and beating feet back to the main gallery. It was small of him, but he couldn’t suppress the sense of satisfaction that flared inside him. If wolves could snicker, his was doing so. Neither of them liked the guy.
“Now where were we before we were interrupted? Join me at my hotel tonight. For dinner in the restaurant,” he quickly added before she could tear a strip of him. He kept his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “You could bring the painting and your portfolio. We could discuss business.” He set his trap carefully.
“You’re serious about buying the other painting?” The combination of mistrust and curiosity mingled in her eyes. He fought the urge to hug her and reassure her that everything would be okay. It would be a lie, and while he might not tell her everything—not that she’d believe him, not at this point—he couldn’t bring himself to actually lie. It would feel like a betrayal.
“If I like it, I’ll pay the same price as the original. If I buy directly from you, there’s no gallery commission. You also mentioned you have dreams about the gray wolf. I’m interested in hearing about them.” He needed to understand the strange connection between them. Information was power. With it, he had a better chance of avoiding pitfalls. He had no plans to fall victim to any mage’s trap.
Her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared, the involuntary reactions the only outward signs he’d hit a nerve. “They’re flights of fancy.” The desperate edge to her voice had him wondering who she was trying to convince—him or herself. She crossed her arms over her chest. The movement pushed her breasts up slightly. His mouth began to water as he imagined peeling her sweater off and her dress down to expose her bare skin. Her nipples would be juicy nubs, begging to be tasted. They’d be sweeter than the wild raspberries that grew in the mountains—his absolute favorite.
He cursed his wayward thoughts. This wasn’t about sex. It was about getting her away from the gallery so he could question her. “I had a dream last night. You were in it.”
“A nightmare, I imagine, after all the money you spent.” Her laugh sounded forced. He had to give her credit for trying to pass it off. She glanced toward the doorway and nibbled on her bottom lip. “While I appreciate you buying my painting, it’s not wise for us to meet outside the gallery. I could bring the other one here.”
Damn it, he’d pushed too hard, and now she was backing off. He needed to practice patience, something that wasn’t usually a problem. “I don’t have time to return to the gallery. What do you say? Dinner and business. Nothing more.” And he wanted to avoid Chelsea, if possible. “Does seven work for you?” When she hesitated, he mentally crossed his fingers.
“I guess it would be fine.” The trap slammed shut. He had her now. She just didn’t know it.
“I’ll send a car.” There was no way she could drag her portfolio that distance.
“I’ll take care of it. You’re a stranger, Mr. Alvarez. I’m not giving away my home address. I, on the other hand, know where to find you. I’ll be in the lobby at seven.”
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“I want you to have my private number in case something comes up.” He waited while she got her phone from her purse and offered it to him. After he added himself to her contacts, he handed it back.
She clutched the device in her hand. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“I look forward to it.” Time to leave before he said or did something to make her change her mind. Package in hand, he forced himself to walk away. It was harder than it should have been. Tony was with a customer. Kade waited until the man made eye contact. When he glanced away, his wolf gave a satisfied grumble.
He had time to kill but plenty to keep him occupied. The first order of business was taking the painting back to the hotel. Then he needed a new laptop. He took one last look at the gallery. Felt a tug in the center of his chest. No, not his chest, his tattoo. Stopping, he rested the package on the ground and rubbed the spot. That was a first. What the hell did it mean?
He wanted to keep a watch over her, but he had work to do. There was a large threat hanging over him and the other lone wolves. And, by association, that made Luna either a target or a potential enemy. There was no way their meeting, the painting of the wolf, and whatever had happened last night when he’d slept were mere chance. The reminder was sobering. He’d never had trouble concentrating on a job until now. And this was the most important one of his life.
On a positive note, he hadn’t scented any other wolves around the gallery. Nor had he sensed the presence of magic. That in itself didn’t mean anything. The mage might be adept at cloaking it. His knowledge of magic was limited.Most mages dealt in white magic and studied and lived without harming anyone. But there were the few who delved into dark magic, rumored to use blood spells and human sacrifice to extend their lives and increase their power.
Solange Dupree, the mage working with the wolf Charles Armstrong, was one of the latter.
The white wolf believed they’d have some time before all hell broke loose. Deep in his gut, Kade knew he was wrong. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to be soon. Where did Luna fit in all this? Was she working for his enemies?
Working for his enemies.The words vibrated in his head, a dire warning. Crap, did Chelsea Clifton really own the gallery? And just who was she? “I’m an idiot,” he muttered. He’d been so caught up with his attraction to Luna, the painting, and the dream, he’d fallen right into the trap they’d set and missed the obvious. It couldn’t happen again. There was a mage and her werewolf partner who wanted to cage him and steal his immortality. Not going to happen. Luna was still the key. He had hours until they were to meet.
Time enough to get to work on finding answers and creating a plan of attack.
…
Luna scrubbed her hands over her face and reached for her composure. She’d kissed a man at work. Or, rather, he’d kissed her. Either way, it was unprofessional. And not any man. Kade Alvarez. Unlike last night’s dream kiss, this one barely qualified. Their lips had hardly touched. Yet, if she’d been wearing socks, they would have been blown off. As it was, her toes were curled in her shoes.
Now that he was gone, the room seemed emptier. Colder, too. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, wondering if she should check the air conditioner. Maybe it was set too high.
