Rocked by her Alpha

by Mina Carter

  “Certainly, sir, can I take a name?”

  He paused for a second before he replied. “Sure. It’s Aaron Rixx.”

  There was a small gasp on the other end of the line, but he was expecting it. Most women were a little awestruck when they met or spoke to him. Except Melody. It had been a leveler, that was for sure.

  “Good morning, Aaron,” Lacey’s familiar voice filled his ear as he paced in front of the big window of his hotel room. “How are you? I’m assuming your date didn’t go as planned… I can arrange a refund of your fee if you like?”

  “Huh?” The question surprised him. “No, it went really well. Refund. Why would I want a refund?”

  “Errr… well, I assumed…” Her poised and professional manner cracked for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, with the images on the Internet this morning, I assumed you hadn’t found the lady to your liking and had cut the date short. Usually, when that happens, our clients seek a refund.”

  “What pictures?” A horrible suspicion formed in Aaron’s mind. That combination of words, pictures and Internet, didn’t bode well.

  “Hmmm, I wouldn’t like to say…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it.” His wolf snarled as his blood ran cold. “Just one more thing. Can I get some contact details for my date this weekend?”

  At that Lacey’s voice became crisp again. Not impolite, but firm and professional as she answered. “I’m sorry, Aaron, but if she didn’t give you her details, I’m afraid I can’t divulge them to you. We take the privacy of our clients very seriously.”

  “Yes, of course. Can’t you just… bend the rules a little?” he asked, trying to keep the note of begging out of his voice. He had no idea what the pictures on the Internet were, but they couldn’t be good. He needed to talk to Melody before she saw any of them.

  “I’m sorry… I’m afraid I can’t.” Perhaps realizing he was on the verge of pleading, she unbent a little. “I can get a message to the lady, though, to tell her you’re trying to get ahold of her. Am I okay to pass along your contact details?”

  “Yes! Yes, of course. Please,” he almost gabbled in relief. “Thank you, darlin’, you’re a lifesaver.”

  He heard the little smile in her voice as she answered. “Well, I’m not saying she’ll contact you, but I’ll do my best.”

  “That’d be great. Thank you so much.”

  Cutting the call, Aaron found the Internet browser on his phone and searched. Within a second pictures of him with a blonde woman—Lola—wrapped around him filled the screen. He sucked a breath in, fighting anger, and scrolled down. The photos were from this morning, fuzzy and grainy, the two figures framed on either side by panels of white.

  His head snapped up and focused on the windows. There, to one side, there was a slight gap between the net panels. He groaned, dropping his head back. No wonder Lola had gotten in here so easily. It had been a damn setup.

  Rage bubbled up. Some wanker in the press had used a sick woman to manufacture photos of him in a compromising position for money. It had to be for money. Many publications would pay a small fortune for photos of any member of the Hounds, the less clothing the better.

  Striding for the door, he yanked it open and stormed down the hall, not bothering to lock up. The Hounds had this entire floor and with the intrusion this morning, Barrett had the place locked down tighter than a max-security prison. Whatever else he thought about the guy, Aaron had to admit he was good at his job.

  He reached Bonnie’s room, pushing the door open and striding in without knocking. The petite woman just looked up, her fingers still dancing over the keyboard of the laptop in front of her.

  At her look, Aaron simply held out his phone to show her the images.

  “We have a problem.”

  Melody woke with a start and a scream in her throat as she threw her hands up to cover her head.

  “Hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re okay.” Tash’s voice was calm and soothing. Slowly, Melody lowered her arms, blinking as she looked around what appeared to be a small hospital room.

  “I was in a crash,” she said as Tash opened her mouth to speak.

  The younger girl nodded, concern tightening her features. “Yeah, you were. A really bad one. Thankfully it was just outside the hotel, so we got to you really quickly.”

  Mel nodded, every part of her aching and bruised body telling her that, yes, the memories of rolling her car weren’t just a nightmare she’d woken herself from. It had been real. It had happened.

  As the fog cleared from her brain, she remembered being brought into the hospital in an ambulance, medical staff scurrying around her and lots of tests before they’d let her sleep. She forced her mind back past all that to the accident.

  “I remember lights and the sound of tires squealing…” She winced as the memory replayed in her head. “Then the car rolled. Was anyone else hurt? Betty… my car, she didn’t make it, did she?”

  “No, the other driver was just shaken. He’d been drinking, I think. The police took him away.” Tash looked sad and shook her head slowly. “And no, I’m afraid not. Betty was a total write off. But she did keep you in one piece, thankfully!”

  Without warning, Melody found herself wrapped up in the tightest bear hug possible.

  “I was so worried we’d…you’d…”

  “Hush, it’s all okay.” Mel comforted the younger girl, rubbing her back soothingly even though her arms ached like a bitch. “I’m okay. Everything’s fine.”

  “You were very lucky, Miss Simmons. Your car took most of the damage and by some miracle, you were unharmed.” A new voice spoke from the doorway. Tash pulled back to sit on the chair by the bed as a white-coated doctor walked into the room. Melody frowned, racking her memory to see if he’d been one of the doctors who had treated her the night before but came up blank. “Just bumps and bruises according to your notes. I’m Doctor Rundle by the way, do you mind if I do a few quick checks?”

  “Not at all,” Mel tried to smile as he drew the curtains around the bed and looked inquiringly at Tash. “She’s a friend. She can stay if that’s okay?”

  “Of course, not a problem at all.”

  Young as the doctor was, he was efficient and professional as he checked her over again. Fortunately, besides being stiff and sore, nothing serious appeared to be wrong. Finally, he sat back on the chair on the other side of the bed from Tash and smiled.

  “Looks to be all clear, thankfully, Miss Simmons. With all the tests that were done overnight coming back okay as well, I think we can release you… if you have someone who can drive you home and keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours?”

  “She does. That’s not a problem,” Tash broke in, practically on the edge of her seat as she offered.

  Melody had to hide her smile as the younger woman preened in front of the doctor. Admittedly, he was very handsome, in a clean-cut, wholesome sort of way but her tastes ran to tall, dark and dangerous these days. A werewolf rock star bad boy to call her own.

  “Perfect,” Doctor Rundle smiled and scribbled something down on a sticky note before holding it out to Tash. “The direct number to the ward here. If you notice anything wrong… headache, dizziness, slurred speech… call us straight away and we’ll get Miss Simmons right back in to check her out.”

  “Sure thing, straight away.” Tash clutched the piece of paper like it was a lifeline. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

  “I’m sure you will.” The doctor smiled and stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have the rest of my rounds to complete. I’ll send the ward nurse around with all the discharge paperwork but, if you’re lucky, you might get out of here before they bring dinner around.” He leaned forward to stage whisper. “It’s shepherd’s pie and jam roly-poly… I’d avoid it if at all possible. Cook is… more enthusiastic than skillful, shall we say?”

  It took less than an hour for the discharge paperwork to be completed. Soon, they were leaving through
the front door of the hospital. Melody was newly clad in the clothes Tash had been thoughtful enough to bring in a holdall now hanging from one of the younger woman’s shoulders as she helped Melody with her free hand.

  Normally, Mel would have refused the help, but, with the painkillers wearing off and her bruises making themselves known, she was grateful for it. The last thing she needed was to face-plant on the unforgiving concrete and asphalt and add loss of dignity to her other aches and pains.

  “So, how’d your weekend go?” Tash asked as she helped Melody across the parking lot toward her car. It was crowded with parked cars, so they had to weave in and out to reach where Tash had parked. “Did you go home?”

  With each step, Melody felt her strength falter but she was determined to keep going. To not put on Tash any more than she already had.

  “No, I didn’t go home,” she said, sighing with relief as Tash’s little car came into view. She’d always thought Betty was a fixer-upper, but the little blue saloon was in even worse shape. Not one panel was straight and the left rear quarter-light was taped up. “Actually… I had a date.”

  Tash paused with the key in the lock, her eyes suddenly bright as she looked over the car’s roof. “Date? Girl, you need to tell me every…thing. Now.”

  She sounded so much like Tiff that Mel chuckled as the locks clicked and she opened the door to drop into the front passenger seat with a grateful sigh. The two would get along like a house on fire, but the world might not survive such a dynamic duo. The sky might fall in, or some other disaster occur in reaction to bringing two such similar personalities together.

  Still, she hesitated before saying anything. Aaron was such a famous figure there was no way Tash wouldn’t have heard of him. Not when she listened to that type of music regularly. And it could be a fine line between diehard fans and crazy lunatic sometimes. What if Tash was levelheaded most of the time but the latter with her favorite bands?

  Realizing how ridiculous that sounded, even in the privacy of her own head, Melody dismissed the thought. This was Tash—her research assistant. She was good people, not the insane type. Because, she had to face facts for a moment, if she was, the dig would have tipped her over the edge already.

  “It was through some agency my cousin signed me up to. I didn’t expect much of it to be honest… but, oh god, Tash, he was gorgeous!”

  The girl’s eyes had gone wide with delight as she half-turned in the driver’s seat to listen.

  “And? Tell me more. What did he look like? Did you two…” She stopped talking to thrust one finger in and out of a circle made with the other hand, pumping in an obscene way.

  “Tash!” Mel exclaimed, then giggled. “We did, as it happens. He’s tall, with long hair and the bluest eyes. Well, unless his wolf was out—he’s a werewolf. Wait, you know what he looks like.”

  Tash looked confused. “I do?”

  “Yeah.” Mel nodded and then stopped as her head threatened to fall off at the small movement. “You listen to the Lyric Hounds, right?”

  Tash looked suddenly wary, but Mel ignored it as she carried on talking. She wouldn’t give the girl a lecture for her bad taste in music, not now she could see the appeal herself…

  “He’s their lead singer. Aaron Rixx.”

  Instead of the squealing and general amazement Mel expected, Tash stayed motionless, just watching her.

  “This was over the weekend?” she asked quietly.

  Mel frowned. This wasn’t how she’d expected Tash to react. Not at all. If anything, she seemed almost angry. Shit.

  “Yeah. Look, Tash,” she said carefully. “I know they’re one of your favorite bands and all, but they are people with a right to their own private lives as well.”

  A private life that now involved her. She had to be honest, when she’d realized who Aaron was, it had made little impact on her. So he was famous. In her naivety, she’d thought “so what?” It was only now, and with the reaction of the press at the airport, that she realized things were very different where Aaron was concerned.

  Letting the silence stretch out, she watched the younger woman warily. Perhaps she’d read it all wrong and Tash was batshit crazy over her favorite rock star. She suppressed a sigh. The way her luck ran, she would be and Mel would go from the hospital to a grisly end in some dismal wood in the back end of beyond. What did they say… out of the frying pan and into the fire?

  “No, it’s not that.”

  Relief hit Mel hard and fast as Tash shook her head. Her expression was distracted as she rooted in her pocket for her cell phone. Pulling it out, she flicked it on and swiped until she found what she was looking for. Then she held it out so Mel could see.

  “It’s this.”

  She’d intended to flick a glance down at the screen to humor her friend, but when her brain made sense of the image, all thoughts fled.

  It was Aaron, wrapped around a woman in what could only be described as an X-rated clinch. A woman who wore the sort of sexy, expensive underwear Mel had never owned.

  And he was, or looked to be, naked.

  Pain flared out from the center of her chest in waves that stole her breath. Tears welled, but she fought them back with grim determination.

  “And? He’s famous. There’s bound to be old pictures on the Internet,” she argued, suddenly very, very certain she would never do an Internet search on him again. Ever. She didn’t need to see him with old flames or random women.

  Tash shook her head, sorrow in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Mel. But this was taken yesterday.” Anger filled her voice. Not at Mel, but on her behalf. “Which means that, while you were in the hospital, the asshole was already cheating on you.”

  Chapter 8

  “I don’t see the big deal.” Trent Savage, also known as Sav, the band’s drummer, dropped the photo of Aaron and Lola onto the coffee table dismissively. “It’s not like you haven’t been snapped in far more compromising positions before.”

  The Lyric Hounds were crammed into the sitting area of their manager, Bonnie’s, room. For a hotel room, even an expensive one like this, the area was large but, as with any space, put four werewolves in it and it seemed a hell of a lot smaller.

  Karlan and Tempest had taken over the couch. The tactile nature of werewolves meant that Tempest lounged all over her sibling while Karlan didn’t bat an eyebrow.

  Bonnie sat, straight backed, on a chair dragged over from the nearby table, while Sav prowled the room. Their now permanent security shadow, Barrett, lounged against the wall by the door, looking all alert and professional when Aaron knew the guy must be as bored as hell.

  From what he’d read of Barrett’s résumé, the guy was the inspiration behind any action hero you cared to mention, with extra helpings of badass. Even more intriguing, he was human, although his scent seemed somewhat familiar to Aaron. Must be because he’d been living with the band for the last few days or so. After a while, people who lived together picked up some of the same scents.

  “Yeah, well…” Karlan piped up from the couch. “What he’s not telling you is that he’s found his mate, and he doesn’t want to fuck it up before he can get his mating mark on her shoulder.”

  Instantly, Aaron found himself the subject of interest for every pair of eyes in the room. Great, just fucking great.

  “Aaron?” Temp sat forward, a smile fighting to curve her lips. “Is he right? Did you find her?”

  “Yeah.” He thumped down heavily into one of the lounge chairs around the coffee table. “I did.”

  “And?”

  Temp was practically hopping in place, but Bonnie asked the question, her expression focused. He could see the small shine in her eyes. It seemed even the consummate professional manager couldn’t resist the touch of romance.

  “And, nothing… I can’t get hold of her,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I didn’t get her number but the agency said they’d pass a message along to her.”

  Several jaws hit the deck as
silence filled the room. Finally, Sav spoke.

  “You. Didn’t. Get. Her. Number. Your mate, and you didn’t get her number?” His voice rose. “Are you a special kind of fucking stupid, bro?”

  Aaron dropped his head into his hands. He felt as stupid as they believed him to be. Finding your mate was a once in a lifetime event, not something you let slip through your fingers like he had.

  “Let’s not forget that the lady in question is human, has no idea she’s his mate and has access to these little beauties on the Internet,” Karlan added, motioning toward the pictures on the coffee table.

  “Holy fuck.” Sav’s whisper said it all. “Do you know anything about her at all?”

  “Yes, of course I do!” Aaron snapped, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “She’s English.”

  “Oh well,” Sav threw his arms up into the air. “That should narrow it down to like a couple of billion people.” He turned, spotting the security guy by the door. “Hey, Barr’s a Brit. Why don’t you ask him. He probably knows her!”

  Barrett snorted, amusement written on his face. “Sure. England’s such a small place we know everyone. Probably related to her,” he replied, the sarcasm coming through loud and clear. “What’s her name?”

  Irritated, Aaron begrudged giving them even that but unbent enough to mutter, “Melody.”

  “Say again?”

  Barrett’s gaze suddenly focused on Aaron, and a shiver when down his spine. For all that Barrett was human and he was a werewolf, he suddenly wasn’t sure whether he’d actually win in a fight against the guy. Sure, he had the advantage with natural weaponry, but one look into Barrett’s eyes said he didn’t give a shit what other forms Aaron had. He’d still kick his ass if he needed to.

  “Say what?”

  “Her name. What is it?”

  The tense note in Barrett’s voice made Aaron frown, but he answered anyway. “Melody. Melody Simmons.”

  “Holy shit,” Barrett breathed as Bonnie gasped in surprise.