She nodded and tried to catch her breath, wondering how anyone could be in the midst of a passionate moment and just pull away to start discussing other men.
Prince placed his hands on her thighs and gave them a light squeeze. “It looks like Reno’s going to need some help. The higher authority reviewed the files you sent from Vlad’s computer, and they’ve officially declared several men outlaws they were previously unable to identify. Two left the state, but a couple are still living in the area. They also passed along information regarding local trading rings and offered Reno a substantial amount of money to investigate and break them up. But he can’t do it alone, and I suggested you might be interested. I think it will be good for you to establish strong connections in our territory and complete a big case to build your reputation.”
“Are you serious?” she exclaimed, gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging. “You got me a job working with a PI?”
“I secured you a jobasa private investigator, if you want it. You’ll partner with Reno as a temporary situation. He thinks if you help bring in a few of these outlaws that it’ll be substantial enough to get you some cases of your own. Word of mouth is the best advertising, or so I’ve heard.”
Kat kissed his chin, the hard bristles of his short whiskers rough against her lips. “It’s a dangerous job. Sometimes I have to get up in the middle of the night and leave, and occasionally I might go out of town, but not often. Mostly the jobs are local; I’ve known a few PIs, and they told me all about their cases. It’s not all dangerous. Sometimes I’ll be helping abused kids or going undercover to find out if an employee is stealing from his boss.”
Prince kissed her lavishly, his arm encircling her waist. “Make the world a better place, Kat.”
“You’d still want to pursue me despite the dangers?”
His brow arched. “If we’re being honest, then yes, I have a problem with knowing you risk your life every day for strangers. And if any man threatens you in my presence, I can’t promise I won’t blow your cover by snapping his neck.”
She kissed him hard, tasting his conviction in every stroke of his tongue. It was decadent, and the way he handled her was the way every woman dreamed of. She could feel the desire and reverence in the way his hands discovered the gentle curve of her hips, her round breasts, and the soft skin beneath her shirt. Kat had spent her life capturing men, and it looked like one had finally captured her.
She moved her hand down to his pants and decided she despised belts. “Next time I want you in sweatpants.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Prince murmured between kisses.
Since when did Prince become affectionate in public? Suddenly Kat went shy and hopped off the couch, putting distance between them.
Russell poked his head in, his eyes downcast in the dark room. “They’ve baked a roast downstairs if you’d like me to bring up a plate.”
Kat put her hands on her hips, watching Prince from the corner of her eye. “No, tell everyone we’ll be coming down to dine with the pack.”
Prince’s eyes widened. He didn’t socialize with his pack and took most of his dinners in his room while permitting the pack to eat together and bond. One thing Kat knew about the ancients was that they believed becoming too personal with other wolves would make them lose their fear of the Packmaster, and fear was power. But nothing was more powerful than family. It was time for him to change, and Kat was just the person to give him a nudge.
Russell cleared his throat, dismissing Kat’s order and looking at Prince for guidance.
“You heard the lady,” Prince said.
She smiled and gave Russell a smug look of satisfaction before terrifying him with her sad attempt at a Scottish accent. “So shut yer geggie and dust off his chair, because we’ll be dining with the fam tonight.” Kat snapped her fingers, her voice returning to normal. “By the way, I got something for you.”
Kat jogged behind the sofa and reached for a thick box wrapped in red paper. It was about the size of a dictionary. She strolled across the room and handed it to Russell, who had inched farther inside. “It’s just a thank-you gift for all your help with finding Vlad.”
He shook the box and heard several hard objects rattle at once. His expression tightened. “Is this what I think it is?” he said with annoyance, tilting the box and listening to it rattle once more. “I’ll tolerate your Scottish jokes and poor attempt at slang, but this is where I draw the line.”
“Open it.”
He tore the paper away, letting it fall to the floor. Russell’s eyebrows knitted together as he read the writing on the yellow box. “Whitman’schocolates?”
Kat rocked on her heels, a broad smile on her face. “I never did like Russell Stover. There are two layers in this one, so if you don’t like the coconut or toffee ones, feel free to slide them onto my dinner plate later tonight.”
He laughed heartily and scratched the back of his neck. “Aye, I’m sorry I ever called you a name. You’re a bonnie lass with a big knife, so I’ll say my thanks and go dust off that chair.” Russell closed the door and left them alone.
Kat sauntered toward the sofa and took a seat to Prince’s left. “My father was the same way with his pack; he never ate with them. I’ve never been in a pack of my own, but I know it strengthens the bonds when the Packmaster is there to break bread with his packmates. I think you should consider it. If you’re not comfortable with socializing, then I’m not going to make you change your ways. But if this works out between us and someday we end up mated, then I’ll probably be dining with the pack. I don’t want to segregate myself upstairs so they can live in fear of me. I’m changing my whole life for you, and all I’m asking is for you to try one thing.”
Prince was rather tall in comparison to Kat, so she found herself trying to sit up straighter. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.
“You’ve made concessions for me, and I will do the same. But I’ll only do what makes me comfortable. If eating with the pack doesn’t go well, then I’ll resume my current routine.”
“I think you should give them a chance,” she said. “I’m sure they’re great people, but that whole mentality of a pack living in fear isn’t the best way to run a house. Well, maybe it’s not about the best or worst way… only that it can work either way. So why not do the one that’s more fun? Don’t you know any Packmasters who dine with their packmates?”
“Yes,” he replied in a husky voice.
