It was only the lack of bitter arabica goodness that was making her feel antsy. Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.
Mallory had expected to be greeted by a MacTire minion but it was Alexander himself who opened the gate and beckoned her in. He was dressed more casually than last time, in loose sweats rather than a formal suit. Strangely, his choice of attire didn’t put her at ease. In fact, it made her feel even more twitchy.
‘Good morning, Ms Nash.’ He grinned in a manner that suggested lazy predator rather than good friend. She smiled back and avoided looking into those unsettling amber eyes.
‘Good morning, Mr MacTire.’ She glanced around the empty courtyard. ‘I was expecting more people.’
‘I thought it wise to give everyone the morning off.’
Mallory raised her eyebrows. ‘You don’t want your pack to know that I’m working for you? Don’t you trust them?’
MacTire didn’t look offended; if anything, he was amused. ‘Of course I trust them. I gave them the morning off because I thought it would be better foryou. I don’t want you to feel any more intimidated than you already do.’
She immediately veered off-plan and met his eyes. ‘I am not intimidated by you or by any werewolves!’
‘Uh-huh.’ His grin stretched an inch wider. Reflexively, Mallory tightened her toes. MacTire lowered his head towards her. ‘I’m glad to hear that. We’ll be working closely together and I’d hate to think that my presence makes you feel anything other than comfortable.’
She resisted the urge to move away and put space between them. ‘I only agreed to help you out for the Wolf Ball,’ she reminded him. ‘Nothing more.’
‘Of course. But we’ll need to do some preparatory work, won’t we?’
Mallory frowned; she hadn’t agreed to anything like that.
‘I took the liberty of procuring the guest list. I thought you’d want to run through it with me so we could lay some groundwork. I only have you for five hours during the ball and I want to make the most of the event.’ His grin subsided briefly. ‘I am serious about finding a life mate. This isn’t a game for me.’
Mallory rocked back on her heels and examined his face. He waited, allowing her to gaze at him without interruption. He was right about the need for some preparatory work; she’d been letting the unsettling sensation that assailed her every time he looked at her to get the better of her. As her professional pride kicked in, she realised abruptly that this had the potential to be an incredibly interesting challenge. She’d learn a lot about the werewolf community while helping MacTire find the woman of his dreams: it was a priceless opportunity.
Besides, she’d already agreed to help him so it was important to do so. His obvious intention to approach the matter with dedicated and serious energy helped her to focus. She ran through a vague plan in her head and nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You’re right.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘I usually am.’
Mallory lifted her chin. ‘To begin with, you need to do less of that.’
‘Less of what?’
She didn’t miss a beat. ‘Arrogant alpha-ness.’
‘Pardon?’
Mallory deepened her voice. ‘“I’m always right. I’m alpha of the MacTire clan. I always get what I want. I am amazing.”’
MacTire watched her carefully. ‘I always get what I want because I’m prepared to work for it. And Iamalpha of the MacTire clan – I can’t pretend otherwise.’ He tilted his head and a single dark curl fell across his tanned forehead. ‘But I didn’t say I was always right. I said I wasusuallyright.’
Mallory grinned. ‘Same same.’
He gave her a flat look. ‘It is not the same.’
‘See?’ she said. ‘You’re doing it again.’
‘What?’
‘Acting like an alpha.’
‘But Iaman alpha. How else am I supposed to act?’
‘Some self-deprecation wouldn’t go amiss. Neither would some vulnerability.’
MacTire looked at her as if she’d asked him to don a feather boa, angel wings and do the can-can through the streets of Coldstream. ‘Vulnerability?’
