Page 6 of Protecting The Gray Wolf
“Stop it.” When a man gave her a wide berth on the sidewalk, she realized she’d almost shouted the words. Pushing her lips together, she brought her thoughts back to a more pleasant topic.
Kade Alvarez.It was a strong name and suited him. She absently reached up and touched her cheek where his finger had stroked. It was silly to believe she could still feel the heat from his skin. Dropping her hand, she tugged her light sweater more firmly around her. It might be June but the evening had a distinct chill.
The man left an impression. His massive size notwithstanding, there was something about him that drew her eye—and that of every other woman in the place. Charisma. He had it in spades. He oozed innate strength and control. Add wealth on top of it and it automatically made her distrust him. It was just as well her boss had stepped in to take over. Otherwise, Luna might have reneged on the sale. That would have surely gotten her fired, not to mention it was counter to her career goals. She didn’t have to like the clients who bought her work. Good thing because Kade confused her, sending her emotions spinning one way and then the other. He didn’t walk. He prowled. There’d been a brief second where she’d felt…hunted. For a big man, he moved with a fluid grace that was almost animalistic. Like a leopard or panther.
Or a wolf.
She ran her hands up and down her arms and picked up her pace. She was letting her imagination run away…again. It was nothing more than coincidence that his hair was the same shade as the fur of her wolf, that their eyes were exactly alike.
Her steps faltered. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Now she was dipping into the realm of the ridiculous. Shivering, she hurried the rest of the way. Once inside her building and safely locked in her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes before heading straight for the kitchen. “And you’re not likely to see him again.” Chelsea had mentioned he was in town on business. When a wave of sadness washed over her, she ignored it. The man was a stranger, but one with whom she’d shared a pivotal life moment. She’d never forget him.
There was an open bottle of white wine in the refrigerator, but this demanded something special. Chelsea had received several bottles of Moet champagne last Christmas from clients. Luna and Tony had been re-gifted one each in lieu of their boss actually spending her own money on them. If ever an occasion called for champagne, this was it.
She laughed when the corkpopped, and she poured some of the liquid gold into a glass. Lifting it, she toasted herself. “You did it.” She took a sip. “Mmm. Delicious.” Glass in hand, she wandered to the window and stared out at the city lights. She loved it here—the activity, the culture, the opportunities to mix and mingle with a variety of people from all different backgrounds and ethnicities. It had it all. Best of all, it was the polar opposite of where she’d grown up.
Thanks to her business acumen and a healthy trust fund, she owned her two-bedroom condo. She was independent, not stupid. If all her parents had to give her was money, she’d take it and put it to good use creating a permanent home, one that reflected her eclectic tastes and not whatever designer of the season that appealed to her mother.
Her parents had ignored her for most of her life, but she’d had the best nannies and been homeschooled by the finest tutors money could buy. She’d taken full advantage of her opportunities, worked hard, and graduated high school early. Ready to leave the glitz and glamor of California behind, she’d moved to New York. No one had questioned her age. All they’d cared was that she’d paid cash for the place. Used to handling her personal business, she’d settled in quickly and enrolled in both painting and business courses. Her work at the gallery was another sort of education, as were the online marketing classes she fit into her busy schedule.
At twenty-four, she was well on her way to fulfilling her dreams. If she was lonely at times, she dismissed it. Nothing was as important as her career. People came and went and couldn’t be depended on—a lesson hard learned—but her passion, her love for her art never wavered.
On stocking-clad feet, she padded down the short hallway to the larger bedroom, which contained her studio. Canvases—some filled with fantastical scenes, some prepped and waiting—leaned against the wall. She walked over to the largest, a companion to the one that had sold tonight. Taking a sip of champagne, she studied it.
The wolf stood alone on the misty mountain. He wasn’t howling in this one. No, he was staring straight at her. Crouching down, she touched her fingers to his fur, half expecting to feel softness and heat, but there was only cool paint.
“It’s nothing more than a coincidence.” Maybe if she said it enough, she’d believe it.
If her wolf was to morph into a man, he’d look exactly like Kade. A chill went down her spine. Straightening, she backed away and turned toward her easel. Setting her almost-full glass on the table next to it, she picked up a pencil and began to sketch.
Chapter Three
Kade stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the building. When a man came out, he took advantage and caught the door before it closed. It was easy enough to follow her scent to the elevator. He bypassed it and headed toward the stairs. There were six floors. He checked them one at a time.
His wolf whined happily when he finally tracked her to the top floor. Kade stared at the doorway, suspicion rising, dark and ugly. There were no other human scents around her apartment, indicating Luna lived alone. Rent wasn’t cheap in this part of the city, and living on the top floor upped the price. Whatever she made at the gallery wouldn’t cover the cost.
Where was the money coming from? Was it family wealth, a rich patron, or possibly a boyfriend helping to foot the bill? His wolf emitted a low growl at the idea of another male being around her. Maybe she was subletting from someone or had inherited the property. There were other possibilities than being financed by his enemies for her involvement in a plot against the lone wolves. He dabbled in real estate himself. All the lone wolves did. Property appreciated in value over time. When one was staring immortality in the face, it made sense to plan ahead.
He placed his palm against the door and inhaled. Lavender and a hint of cherry mingled with her intoxicatingly natural musk. His dick sprang to life, making his jeans uncomfortably tight. Wrenching himself free, he walked away. His wolf growled, not happy to be leaving Luna. He tugged the creature under control. They had work to do.
Time to get his head back in the game.The attraction isn’t real.Or if it was, it was—according to the white wolf—being amped up by magic. Frustrated on every level, he loped down the stairs, needing to get away to think. Back on the street, he gulped in fresh air, trying to rid himself of her scent. Poised in the shadow of the building, he studied the area. There was no sense of anyone watching. No sign of anything out of place. But looks could be deceiving. He couldn’t afford to underestimate his enemies.
When he was satisfied he wasn’t being shadowed, he loped down the sidewalk. It would be faster to catch a cab back to his hotel, but he needed to walk and think. Twenty minutes later, the single conclusion he’d come to was that he needed to see Luna again. Whatever was going on—victim or up to her neck in conspiracy—she was at the center of it.
The doorman on duty jumped to open the door when he saw Kade coming. After giving the man a nod, he continued on. The lobby was almost empty, but he scanned it all the same. He took the stairs to the eighth floor, unwilling to be trapped in the confines of the elevator for even a short period of time.
Once inside his room, he tossed his jacket on a chair and stripped off his clothes without bothering to turn on a light. He didn’t need it to be able to see. The ambient lighting from outside was more than enough, even if he didn’t have preternatural vision.
The cool air from the air-conditioning unit brushed his overheated body, the touch featherlight. Lifting his hand, he stared at his fingers, the ones that had touched Luna. Her skin had been soft and smooth. He rubbed two of them together and then swore. Fisting his hand, he dragged the other through his hair.
“Get your head screwed on straight or you might end up headless.” Not something he found appealing. And if Luna was innocent in the plots swirling around him, she could be hurt, even die if he screwed up.
His wolf snapped to attention inside him, the sense of restlessness dogging him replaced by deadly purpose. After digging out a pair of loose track pants and pulling them on, he took his laptop to the table in the sitting area. When it powered up, he typed “Luna West” into the search engine. The usual social media site links popped up. He checked each one. To say the information was sparse was an understatement. There was absolutely nothing of a personal nature on any of them. Other than her art, it was as though she didn’t exist online.
Not everyone put their life story out there for public viewing. He sure as hell didn’t. He had several accounts under fake names so he could monitor the wolf packs. But it did send up a giant red flag. A woman in her mid-twenties should have some social footprint—pictures of friends, a mention of a social event or holiday, something.
“Damn it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, but it didn’t alleviate the tension. A sick sensation spread through his stomach. He couldn’t afford to ignore the obvious. She was hiding something.
The truth was going to take time to dig out, something he was short on. Grabbing a burner phone out of his bag—purchased under one of his many aliases—he punched in a number he knew by heart. It was answered on the first ring. “How may I be of assistance?”
