The devil She-wolf

Introducing herself

*Frannie*

He is the most dangerous man in the room.

I realize I’m giving the man standing by the window considerable credit, given that I’m surrounded by those who have no qualms about breaking the law when it suits their purpose. But while my friends are dangerous to everyone around them except me, this man is dangerous only to me.

I know it in the way I would judge which pockets are ripe for the picking before I ever slipped my hand inside to take what they hold. I know it in the way I can tell a column of numbers has been incorrectly tallied before I ever set about to add the numbers together. I know it just as I know that within this room filled with people, there are only three with whom I now truly belong: Jack, Jay, and Bill.

Only recently have I discovered that Luc has always doubted he is the true Alpha of Claybourne. But lately, circumstances have arisen that convince him of the truth, so he no longer questions his inheritance of the title. He moves confidently about the room, comfortable in his skin, no longer fearing that he is living in someone else’s.

I can’t admit to feeling as at ease. This world is not mine. It is so incredibly large, so incredibly important. My small world pales in comparison, but I am content there.

Perhaps it’s my discomfort with the surroundings that makes me notice him… the man standing by the window who appears as though he wants to escape all this politeness as badly as I do. I know who he is. Evangeline’s brother. The newly anointed Alpha of Greywind.

A few times I think I’ve noticed him eyeing me. I try to surreptitiously observe him in return. His skin is a golden bronze, as though he is a man who worships the outdoors. His hair, a dark sandy blond, has been tamed for the occasion, not a single strand out of place, and yet I can imagine it being whipped by the wind as he gallops over the same roads that Marco Polo may have explored.

Greywind is an adventurer, a man who knows no fear. When others spoke with him earlier, his stance reflects politeness, perhaps tolerance, but also impatience, as though he dearly wishes to be off on another quest for excitement.

“Think they’ll be happy?” Jack asks as he offers me another glass of champagne, forcing me to drag my attention away from the man who fascinates me. He is larger than life, and as a general rule, I prefer the small and mundane.

“I’m sure of it,” I say. “Evangeline is good for Luc.”

“What do you make of her brother?”

That he is as powerful as the storm raging behind him. That within his arms, a she-wolf would discover pleasure beyond anything she’s ever known. Heat swirls low within me as I lick my lips and offer up a small lie. “I’m not sure.”

“He’s been watching us,” Jay says.

“A good many of the guests are watching us,” Bill mutters.

“And their pockets,” Jack adds. “I’m halfway tempted to walk through and lift things.”

I scowl at him. Luc’s grandfather has taken us out of the rookeries, but he hasn’t been able to take the rookeries out of us… not completely. “Don’t do anything to let our presence embarrass Luc. He’s finally being accepted by his peers. It was a bit of rebellion on his part to invite us.” The scoundrels of his youth, although I know he’ll never completely leave us behind. Our pasts have forged an unbreakable bond.

“Still watching out for him?” Jack asks.

“The same as I watch out for all of you.” I give him a playful smile. “And you watch out for me.”

Although there are times when they watch a little too closely, are just a bit too overprotective. I love them dearly, but sometimes I crave something more, something that I can’t quite identify. Perhaps that’s the reason I’m suddenly feeling the need to stage a rebellion. I glance back toward the gentleman at the window. “I believe I’m going to introduce myself.”

“He’s a bloody Alpha,” Jack reminds me.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” I murmur before handing the flute back to him, taking a deep breath, and walking across the room.

As a rule, I avoid those who carry titles because they make me uncomfortably aware of my humble origins, but something about this man demands my attention, makes me desire a moment of recklessness. I’ve worked so terribly hard to insulate myself from anything that might bring me harm, and I’ve only managed to give myself an incredibly boring existence. Nothing about him strikes me as boring.

I feel eyes come to bear on me, other guests making note of my actions. Because I’ve never cared much for their perusal, I should be bothered by their increasing interest in me, but the man chooses that moment to settle his gaze on me, and I feel it like a gentle caress that sweeps the length of my body.

My step almost falters. Feagan’s lads never look at me with desire smoldering within their eyes. Perhaps that’s the reason Greywind is so dangerous to me. Because with only a glance, he makes me feel as though I’ve suddenly transformed from an awkward girl into an attractive she-wolf with the power to lure a man toward a sinful encounter.

Even more astonishing is the attraction I feel toward him. I’ve never met a man who stirred passion within me, who made me yearn for a touch of his lips, a stroke of his fingers.

Fighting off the urge to turn on my heel and return to my safe haven, I come to a halt before him. His eyes are the blue of a sapphire gemstone that has been embedded in a necklace I once lifted from a pompous she-wolf’s neck. Feagan has been so delighted with the take that he bought me a strawberry. I can never taste one now without thinking of it as a reward for wicked behavior. I think an evening with Greywind would result in my eating an entire bowl of delicious strawberries.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Frannie Tempest.”

“The bookkeeper at the full Moon club.”

I know my eyes widen at that. I seldom step out into the gaming area. My work is handled in an area accessible only by those who possess the proper key. “I seem to recall you’re a member.”

“And I seem to remember your friends…” he nods toward where Jack, Jay, and Bill wait expectantly for my return, “…are all thieves.”

Disappointment slams into me with the realization that he is one of those… those who don’t believe someone can rise above her station in life, those who made my life miserable while I lived with Claybourne. I should leave him to his pettiness, but something compels me to stay. Perhaps I want to give him the opportunity to redeem himself.

“As it’s customary for the wedding breakfast to be held at the home of the bride’s family, am I to assume you disapprove of the guest list?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

He raises a brow slightly, “You may assume what you like, but I value my property and prefer not to have light-fingered guests about.”

“I see.” I am an excellent judge of character, and I don’t get the sense that his is being truly revealed. The most skilled actors in the world are beggars. With a practiced look, they can win over a heart, nab sympathy, cause a person to give away his last coin. Greywind, it seems, is putting on a performance guaranteed to earn him no kind regard. I wonder at his reasons.

He shifts his gaze to the crowd. “Will he make her happy?”

“Luc?”

“Claybourne.”

I give him credit for recognizing Luc by his title. At least that is something. And it is obvious he cares for his sister. “Immeasurably so.”

He gives a brusque nod. “Then that’s all that matters. If you’ll excuse me…”

He is three steps away when I call after him, “My Alpha?”

He turns back to me, and I smile mischievously, not certain why I am determined to vex him. He just seems to be a man who needs to be vexed. Besides, I am not about to let his insult to my friends go unanswered, and I have my own statement to make: we aren’t the only thieves in attendance. I hold up my hand. Dangling from it by its heavy chain is a gold pocket watch. “You left your timepiece behind.”

He looks at his waistcoat, pats it as though his eyes might be deceiving him, then slowly lifts his gaze back to me. With a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, he holds out his hand. I drop the watch into his palm, and before I can withdraw my gloved hand, he closes his strong fingers around it and leans near. “Careful, Miss Tempest,” he says, his voice a low rasp that sends shivers through me, “I’ve been away for a while and I’m not quite as civilized as I was when I left.”

That aspect of him becomes so incredibly apparent that my heart thuds against my ribs and my legs weaken. He gazes at me as though he is contemplating devouring me.

With an abrupt bow, he releases me, turns on his heel, and strides away. I watch until he disappears through the doorway, obviously taking his leave.

Amazing how quickly the tables turned and I lost the upper hand. I certainly didn’t expect to be left breathless by the encounter, although more than that has me bothered. I feel an unfamiliar, powerful pull that desperately doesn’t want him to leave.

*Sterling*

I want nothing more than to storm from the room, but I keep my pace measured, concentrating as I wend my way around people so I don’t bump into anyone. Leaving isn’t nearly as difficult as I imagined it would be. Perhaps it’s because whatever my expression communicates causes people to quickly step out of my way rather than try to engage me in conversation.

I know my behavior toward Miss Tempest has been abhorrent, but I was unprepared for my reaction to her nearness. She doesn’t have the voice of an angel. Hers is a voice that stirs passions within bedchambers… sultry, sensual, and breathless, as though we’ve already shared pleasure and she is eager for another round.

Her eyes… I almost groan at the memory. They are a magnificent green, but it’s what they don’t contain that enthralls me. No innocence. None at all. Life has seasoned her. She is unlike any of the young she-wolves of my acquaintance. She has seen things… in all likelihood, done things… that would cause them to swoon.

I am not a man in the habit of losing control, but I know that if I don’t remove myself from her presence, I’m likely to take her in my arms, and the devil take anyone who objects.

Then damn her, she pilfered my watch, and I did not feel her touch. I want to know her touch, and as my long strides carry me farther away from her, I want her all the more.