The devil She-wolf

He never wanted anything like her

*Sterling*

I did not expect the long line of wagons that my driver recklessly swerves around in order to gain entrance through the gate of the orphanage. I did not expect this home for children on the outskirts of Blackrock City to be so monstrously large, reflecting such exquisite architecture. I did not expect all the people scurrying around, hauling furniture inside.

As my driver brings the coach to a halt, suddenly I very much do not want to be here. Crowds, blast it all, when I cannot easily see those who surround me, have become the bane of my existence.

The servant promptly opens the door. I am about to tell him to instruct the driver to return home when I spot Evangeline, and… damnation… she spots me. The joy on her face at the sight of me only serves to add to my unease.

“Sterling, you came!” She cries happily.

As she hurries over, I realize I have no choice now except to endure a few moments with all these people and this activity. As I agilely leap out, I turn my head to see that my servants have already disembarked from their carriage and are standing at attention waiting for their orders. I thought Miss Tempest would be so grateful for my generosity in offering my own servants…

Stupid. Why do I feel this insane need to impress a she-wolf of the streets? It should be enough that I want her. Most she-wolves whom I desire are flattered by my attention. They require no more of me than that.

Evangeline comes to a stop in front of me. While she is appropriately wearing black, still mourning the loss of our father, her dress looks as though it might have once been worn by a low servant. Dirt smudges her nose and one cheek, and her hair is in danger of toppling from its pins at any moment. I do not know if I have ever seen her look happier.

“I brought servants to assist,” I say gruffly.

She nods, “I can see that. Frannie will be absolutely delighted. Come inside, so I can let her know you are here.”

“You told her to expect me?” What if I have changed my mind? Would she have been disappointed?

“No, of course not. But she is a bookkeeper and she keeps tally of everything, so she will want to know you’ve come to help.” My sister says.

Evangeline babbles about all the work that needs to be done as she guides me toward the entrance. I can see now why Evangeline wants her money to go to this endeavor. The upkeep will be monstrous. Miss Tempest will certainly be in need of financing for her enterprise. Bookkeepers do not receive an exorbitant salary.

As we walk through the door into the building, Claybourne strides out. He comes to an abrupt halt. “My Alpha, what an unexpected surprise.”

“By its very nature a surprise is unexpected,” I say, annoyed that Claybourne appears so comfortable in these surroundings, while I feel decidedly out of my element.

He chickles, “You have me there. You can put your jacket in the corner office, roll up your sleeves…”

“I brought servants.” I say stupidly.

He nods, “Frannie will be pleased with the extra hands.”

“Where is she?” Evangeline asks.

“Last I saw her was upstairs. She should be down momentarily.” Claybourne says.

Evangeline smiles at her mate, “I want to let her know Sterling is here.”

Claybourne narrows his eyes. “She’s very precious to us, you know.”

Another warning? Does he not know that one has already been delivered? “As my sister is to me,” I reply.

Evangeline sighs. “I don’t know why the two of you must always act distrustful of each other.”

Perhaps because we know how men think. I am growing weary of the encounter. I should simply leave. I lift my gaze to the stairs and suddenly, nothing else matters. She is there, standing halfway down, Swindler halting and glancing back up as though they had been walking down together and she has come to an unexpected stop.

My memory of her doesn’t do her justice. What I had considered vibrant is nothing more than washed-out images. In person, her hair is a deeper red, and I know her eyes will be a more alluring green. Her dress, buttoned clear to her chin, leaves everything to a man’s imagination, fueling it, making me wonder if what I envision could truly exist in the flesh. I think nothing would be more satisfying than undoing each of those buttons at my leisure and discovering the treasures they keep hidden.

Swindler says something to her… but not before giving me a condescending once-over… and she jerks her attention to him and smiles. The slow movement of her lips is enough to almost bring me to my knees. What in the Goddess name is wrong with me? She isn’t even bestowing her charms on me, but I am enchanted all the same.

Miss Tempest begins to walk down the stairs. Swindler joins her, his gaze shifting between her and me as though he can see the strange bond that joins us. I already know he doesn’t approve of it. I am simply grateful that no evidence of my bruised eye remains.

“My Alpha,” Miss Tempest says with a slight curtsy as she comes to stand in front of me.

Like Evangeline, she has a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and I clamp my hands behind my back to stop myself from reaching out to rub it away. It doesn’t detract from her perfection. In some ways, it enhances it.

I bow. “Miss Tempest. I have brought six servants to assist you in your endeavors.”

“How very kind of you.” She turns slightly. “Have you been introduced to Inspector Swindler from the Alpha agency?”

“We have met,” I say curtly.

Her brow furrows slightly as she glances suspiciously between the two of us. “I see. Would you care for a tour, my Alpha?”

“I would be most interested, thank you.” And perhaps we can dispense with some of the damned formality.

“Jay, will you see to giving his servants instructions?” she asks.

“Maybe I should stay with you.” While my words are for her, he is still scrutinizing me as though he considers me some reprobate.

“We will be fine. The more quickly people are put to work, the sooner we will be done and I can start moving in orphans.” She touches Swindler’s arm, and I have an irrational urge to snatch her hand away. I don’t want her touching others; I want her touching me. “Please.”

Swindler nods. “I can never refuse you, you know that.” Then he walks off, his shoulder clipping mine as he passes by. I should have anticipated that bit of bravado was coming. Instead, I have been watching Miss Tempest, so I continue to give the impression I have chosen to ignore the unspoken warning.

“We should get back to work,” Evangeline says, slipping her arm through Claybourne’s and leading him away.

I haven’t seen enough of Evangeline with her mate to judge their relationship, but it seems she isn’t averse to giving a few orders… and Claybourne has no qualms about following them. Once they are beyond hearing, Miss Tempest says, “The upstairs is rather boring. It’s only bedchambers.”

“I have never found bedchambers to be boring.” I say with a sly grin.

She blushes and glances down at the floor, and I wish I had bitten my tongue before speaking. I have obviously embarrassed her. Working in The full Moon club where she-wolves often provide men with companionship, she must possess a keen understanding of what transpires between a man and she-wolf. I wonder if she is remembering my proposition.

“But I suppose they are very much all alike,” I say, and her gaze shoots up to meet mine, her brow furrowing as though she is trying to determine if I am referring to her familiarity with bedchambers or my own. “Where would you suggest we start?”

“If you’ll follow me,” she replies, leading me down a hallway.

She opens the door to a room lined with shelves.

“The library, I presume,” I say quietly. “I have a fondness for libraries.”

Blushing becomingly, she strolls to a large window that overlooks a garden. I can see several gardeners toiling. Miss Tempest is apparently determined to make this orphan asylum resemble a home as much as possible.

I consider closing the door, but given the looks Claybourne and the inspector gave me, I realize I need to take care not to offend or give the wrong impression. Besides, if I do close it, I might find myself deciding that gentlemanly behavior is no longer warranted. Now that I am back in her presence, I want her all the more.

“I’m quite surprised you are here,” she says softly, turning to face me. “I suppose you came for an answer.”

“Truthfully, I’m not certain why I came.” I amble over to the window and let my gaze fall on her. “That’s a lie. I know exactly why I’m here. I wanted to see you again.”

She gives a tiny shrug, “I’m at the club every night. I see to his books, as you know.”

“But I imagine if I were to go into the hallways barred from customers, I might meet resistance. Tell me, Miss Tempest, where do you live?” I ask.

“I have an apartment at the back of the club.” She says.

I had heard Moondancer provides rooms for some of his employees. She must be spending every coin she has ever earned on this enterprise. I look at the gardeners hard at work, digging and arranging. “I didn’t expect something so… elaborate. The land, the building… they cannot have come cheap. How will you maintain them?”

“We have benefactors. Luc, in particular, is very generous. Perhaps you would care to make a donation, my Alpha.”

The devil is in her bright green eyes as she gives me an impish grin. Sunlight, which has been absent the last time we stood together in front of a window, pours over her. She has a faint sprinkling of freckles across her delicate upturned nose. I want to loosen the top two buttons of her blouse, just to catch a glimpse of the column of her throat. I want one night with her, but I don’t want any moment rushed. “How much would please you, Miss Tempest?”

She licks the lips that I have tasted and desperately wish to taste again. “We are talking about a contribution to the orphanage, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” I say.

“It would come with no strings, no expectations of receiving anything in return?” She asks.

I give a small shrug, “It seems it should come with something. A smile, perhaps. What is a smile worth to you?”

Disappointment washes over her features, and I wonder how she could possibly take offense to me wanting a smile.

“It’s wrong to place a price on things that should never carry a price,” she says.

“Everything carries a price, Miss Tempest. I would think that being raised as you were, you would be aware of that.” I point out.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, my Alpha, to believe you know exactly how I was raised.”

I swear beneath my breath. She is correct. I know nothing about the reality of her life. “I have somehow managed to insult you.”

“We come from very different worlds. Have you never given anything away simply for the joy of giving it away?” She asks.

“Ah, but you see, there is still the trade. You give away something, and in return, you gain joy.”

She looks at me, “By that notion, seeing the smile should be its own reward and should require no payment.”

“I can see you are too clever by half. All right then, I shall donate five hundred coins to your cause.” I tell her.

“Thank you, my Alpha, and for that I shall most definitely smile.”

And she does, a beautiful smile that lights up her entire face. I would pay ten times that amount to keep it there, but I suspect money is not the key to her heart. My thoughts stumble. It is not her heart I want. I want her curves, her flesh, her heat…

Before I can convince myself it would be unwise, I settle my mouth over hers, not at all surprised to discover that it fits exactly as I remember. I have dreamed about it often enough during the past two weeks.

She tastes of lemon and sugar. I’m willing to bet the previous Alpha of Claybourne isn’t the only one with a penchant for keeping sweets handy. Moaning low, she opens her mouth fully to me, and I suddenly am not thinking about anything except how wonderful it feels to once again have her in my arms.

She fits against me as no other she-wolf ever has, as though she belongs. I curse myself for not closing the door earlier.

As her arms wind around my neck and her fingernails scrape along my skull, need rips through me with a blinding fierceness. I want to know the full measure of her passion.

Panting and breathless, she tears away from me. I want to yank her back, take her in my arms, and carry her to my coach. I want her in my bed. I want her slowly. The fire of passion burning in her eyes ignites the flames of desire within me. I have sampled she-wolves in every country I have visited, but I can’t recall wanting one more than I yearn for her.

“Come with me.” I barely recognize the low, raspy voice as my own.

She shakes her head quickly. “I can’t. I have responsibilities here.” She touches my chin as though she wants to return for another kiss and just as abruptly drops her hand to her side.

I cradle her cheek. “Apparently, I unintentionally lied earlier. It appears I came for your answer, and it seems that I have it.”

Her lips part…

“Frannie?”

She jerks away at Swindler’s voice. The inspector stands in the doorway, flexing his hands. “We have got some chairs here, but we are not sure where they are supposed to go.”

“I will be there directly.” They are words of dismissal, but Swindler stays where he is. She turns her attention back to me. “If you will excuse me, I need to see to some things.”

I don’t want to excuse her, but the polite words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “Yes, of course.”

“Please feel free to look about at your leisure.” How can she suddenly sound so damned calm? She takes a step away, then glances back. “Meet me in the garden in ten minutes. I will have your answer then.”

I watch as she strolls out of the room in her plain dress, which for some reason doesn’t appear plain at all. She touches Swindler’s arm. He looks down on her, and something warm passes between them. I flex my fingers. At that moment, I think I could bring the inspector down with a single punch. By the Goddess, I feel possessive in a way I never have before.

Then Swindler glares at me before following Frannie into the hallway. I turn my attention to the garden and press my hand to the cool window, but it fails to ease the boiling in my blood. Only one thing will accomplish that: a night with Frannie Tempest.