She’d been surprised at how tender the big, fierce daddy wolves had been with their children. She felt a sudden stab of longing as she remembered a big, scarred wolf picking his little boy up after he’d scraped his knees.I want that. I want that for my children, a man who will adore them and protect them and comfort them. I want that for me.
And she’d dated so many duds, so many losers who made her feel like she should be grateful for any scrap of attention, that on some very deep level, she’d started to doubt it could ever happen for her.
But did she want it with Dominic?
Or, more importantly, did she want it with a Blood Oath pack wolf? Because it was a package deal. She couldn’t have one without the other.
And she couldn’t make such an enormous life changing decision based on the fact that Dominic’s wolf apparently thought she had a tasty butt.
She needed to go hide out for a bit while she figured out what to do next, or she might wake up in the back of a Blood Oath pack van being carted off to God knows where. She had no idea why Dominic hadn’t just grabbed her and kidnapped her yet, since he seemed to think he owned her, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out.
She quickly packed up some clothes and climbed back on her bike. Her legs were starting to ache, and it was late evening now, but she headed downtown, to the business district. The owner of the bike messenger service had a few tiny studio apartments in the building next to the dispatch center, where the employees could crash if they wanted to pick up some early jobs the next day.
Chapter Six
“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where you are?” Kalinda said, when Zoey called her Sunday morning.
Zoey picked up on the hidden meaning in her boss’s words. Kalinda’s calls were being monitored – by the Blood Oath pack. And Dominic wanted to know where she was.
“Best if I don’t say. By the way, what did you mean when you told Dominic there were other girls who would be better suited to him?”
“You heard that?” Zoey could feel Kalinda’s wince all the way through the phone.
“Yes. Because I have ears.”
“Oh, you know. Flashier. Trashier. The type they usually like.”
“Skinnier?”
“Oh, come on.” But Kalinda didn’t say no.
Zoey paused. There was a hurt silence.
“I was trying to help you,” Kalinda said defensively. “For the Blood Oath pack events, I hire waitresses who are less likely to be harassed by those guys. Most of the guys like magazine model types with hair extensions and fake bazoongas. That is not you. Is that so bad?”
“Whatever,” Zoey said, stung. “So…I guess I can’t work any gigs for you in the near future?”
Kalinda’s voice went brisk and business-like. “Well, if you did, I am of course under orders to report back to the Blood Oath pack immediately. And I would never disobey a pack order.”
“Got it. See you around, then.”
It was mildly chilly on Sunday morning, and Zoey sensed more obstacles than usual as she zipped through the streets delivering packages, but she couldn’t tell if the obstacles were specific to her.
And the bite wound still ached, making the ride really awkward. Between the obstacles and the bite, she was much slower than usual – which meant she was only slightly quicker than an average bike messenger.
When she finished her deliveries around noon, she headed back to her tiny crash pad – but when she got to the hallway, she stopped. She smelled coffee. She hadn’t made coffee this morning. In fact, there was no coffee in the little apartment. No food, either. She stood there for a couple of minutes before finally heading in. What were the odds that someone would make her coffee and then kill her?
Hopefully not good.
Dominic was sitting on the tiny couch-bed as she limped through the door of the apartment. He wore a suit, as usual, a nice charcoal gray. There was now a coffee-maker, filled with coffee, sitting on the kitchen counter. A smile curled his sensual mouth as she shut the door behind her. Her heart stuttered in her chest – from fear, or anticipation? She wasn’t sure.
His gaze swept the little livingroom-bedroom. “Hello. Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Well, it smells better around here than my actual neighborhood,” she said irritably. He looked mildly puzzled at that, and held out a cup of coffee.
Right, fine, pretend that garbage doesn’t stink. She limped over to the couch, her butt aching with every step, and grudgingly took it.
She made sure to sit on the far end of the small couch – which unfortunately wasn’t far enough. There was maybe six inches of space between them, and the warmth of his gaze made the apartment feel stifling. She could practically feel the lust waves rolling off him. Or was it her?
