The Mate Mistake (The Woolven Secret Book 3)

by Saranna Dewylde

  Belle had managed to stay off the grid and avoid her family and the old way of life they clung to. The violence. All the death. She’d found another way—a better way. Now it was all going to come crashing down around her because she’d spent the night with a pretty boy who’d claimed to be something she was so sure he was not.

  He hadn’t smelled like a dog to her. That was the thing. That’s why she’d been so sure he couldn’t be Parker Woolven.

  But, as evidenced by the orgy of paparazzi hanging outside their window, apparently he was.

  Why didn’t he smell like it, though? He smelled like chocolate. Parker Woolven was all candy, no doggie. Not that she minded werewolves. A lot of her kind couldn’t stand them. Called them mutts and animals, but Belle was all about the live and let live school of thought.

  She bit her lip. Mmm. Chocolate.

  Belle forced her mind back to the current conundrum.

  Parker exhaled, squared his shoulders and sauntered over to the windows, naked. Giving the paparazzi an unobstructed view of full frontal Woolven. But the view from behind wasn’t bad either. He had an amazing ass. She kind of wanted to bite it. It was just so round and firm. It begged to be smacked.

  He turned, as if he could feel her appraisal. He winked.

  Oh yeah, he knew what she was looking at and probably what she wanted to do to it.

  She sighed. He was just so pretty. Of course, it was that kind of thinking that had gotten her into trouble in the first place.

  Belle watched him boldly stare down the paparazzi, all the while flashes exploding against the window while they snapped picture after picture of him even as he drew the curtains closed.

  “This is bad,” he said, sinking down on the purple, yet somehow still tasteful couch.

  No shit. “It shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? You can make sure they don’t print those pictures. Threaten them with a lawsuit. They shouldn’t be able to just… I mean, we had every expectation of privacy.”

  He looked up at her. “It’s so much more than that. It doesn’t matter what we do. What legal actions we take. They’re going to get leaked on the net and while if the world wants to see me naked, I’m happy to oblige, my future bride is not going to be pleased. Neither will her family. Or our stockholders in Woolven Industries.”

  “So your marriage was supposed to be like a mini-merger? Wow. And I thought my family was old-fashioned. That sucks.”

  He shrugged. “It’s how I was raised and part of my responsibilities as a Woolven. It could always be worse. I’m aware of my advantages and my privilege.” His eyes narrowed. “That won’t last much longer if I don’t get in front of this. Look, you said it wasn’t a big deal to get the quickie annulment, right?”

  His eyes were coolly appraising. As if he expected her to suddenly put up a fight or ask for money. She supposed there were people in this situation who’d look at it as an opportunity to make some easy, fast money.

  Not Belle. She needed to go underground and fast. She’d gotten complacent. She’d been in Nevada way too long. Contrary to popular belief, not all vampires burst into flames in the sun. She loved the sun—and the heat. It made her remember what it was like when she was human. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be in the sun then, either. Or show her ankles. Or have thoughts of her own.

  “Belle?” he prodded.

  “Yeah, of course. Look, I want the attention even less than you do. I’ve… I know some bad people. They’re going to come looking for me now. I have to get the fuck out of Dodge and the faster the better. So just show me where to sign.”

  He found his phone and the thing was practically a hot coal in his hands—vibrating with notification after notification.

  “Well, aren’t you important.”

  “They’re Google alerts. This has already hit the internet. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  She scrambled to find her clothes and get dressed.

  His phone started ringing. He didn’t answer it.

  She washed her face and took a hard look at herself in the mirror. She needed a plan.

  “Where is Blake?” she heard from the living room. “No, this is important. I’m not kidding, Drew. I fucked up. It’s all over the papers. Yes, I… no. No. Well, they were looking. What do you expect me to do, cower? It’s undignified. No, no more so than… fine. How the hell should I know? Get the lawyers on it. Call me back.”

  She emerged into the living room and found Parker had put on his wrinkled slacks from the night before.

  “Well, we’re in a holding pattern at the moment until the lawyers get back to us.”

  “How long’s that going to take?” Bad people could already have assets in Vegas coming to deal with her. Most likely not until dark, but she needed all the head start she could get.

  “Not long. Wanna get some room service while we’re here? Might as well, right?” He leaned back on the couch and pushed his hands through his hair. “I’m really sorry about this.”

  It would be easy to let him take all the blame, but she’d said, “I do.” Just the same as he had.

  “Me too. I think if we’d met under different circumstances, we’d be able to be friends.”

  He raised a brow. “Just friends?”

  The way he looked at her made her blush again. Just being near him made her feel… alive. More alive than the sun warming her bones. More alive than the last time she’d had human blood…

  “Friends with lots of benefits.”

  “Good. Then since we’re stuck here, maybe we can both have breakfast.”

  “Are you seriously trying to get in my pants again after what just happened?”

  “Is this a trick question?”

  She found herself laughing again. “Okay, seriously? In any other circumstance, I’d say go for it. I mean, I’d love nothing better than to have a rare piece of liver and a bloody mary for breakfast while you give me bean, but I’m kind of planning how to save my life. So being stupid stoned on the best orgasms of my life really isn’t helpful at the moment.”

  He sighed. “I suppose I can arrange for the rare liver and the bloody mary then. I wouldn’t want you to die,” Parker drawled. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly did you do to incur deadly wrath? Did you embezzle from mobsters? Not pay your coke dealer? Take candy from babies?”

  “Not exactly.” She wondered how much she should tell him. He was a werewolf, after all. He’d understand. Wouldn’t he?

  Or maybe he wouldn’t. His kind and her kind didn’t mix. Not usually. Would he tear her throat out once he knew what she was? She studied him and took a deep breath.

  His phone rang.

  “It’s my brother.” He picked it up. “Drew.” His face paled. “Kumarin? Are you sure? Goddamn it.”

  Kumarin. Evgeni Kumarin, if her guess was correct. A vampire. An evil one. A lot worse even than those who were after her.

  She watched the play of emotions over Parker’s face. Such genuine concern and loyalty to his family. She liked that about him.

  Belle could admit she liked a lot of things about him.

  Her position was more precarious than she’d thought. It would be so easy to fall in love with him and that would be the stupidest thing she could do. Even more so than climbing on his face and riding it like a wild pony before she had to say goodbye to him.

  She couldn’t bring her family’s wrath down on him.

  The Woolvens wouldn’t go to war with the entire vampire nation for one little waitress and an impromptu Vegas wedding.

  Not that she wanted them to, she assured herself.

  Maybe in another world, another time, she and Parker Woolven could’ve been something more. But this was not that time and this was not that world.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Well, she’s a person, Drew. She has a choice.”

  His words jerked her attention back front and center.

  “Fine. Fine. I said fine. What about Maribella? Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know.”

  He hung up
.

  “So what is it I have a choice about?”

  “Staying married to me.” Parker looked so nonplussed.

  “Excuse me?” For a second, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “You know, just for a few years. Maybe less. Enough to get the board to self-soothe and settle down.” He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d go for it. Will you at least listen to my pitch over breakfast?”

  She looked at the clock on the wall. It was eight in the morning. She had a little bit of time. She could at least eat.

  The liver would tide her over, give her the nutrients she needed without taking human blood. It couldn’t hurt to listen to what he had to say. Could it?

  “Okay. Order the liver and the bloody mary. Your treat.”

  “Of course.” He called the hotel desk and first, complained about the violation of his privacy, which the staff obviously took very seriously and then proceeded to give them the room service order. He paused to turn to her. “Would you like a change of clothes or anything? All things Woolven are at your disposal.”

  “Really? Actually, I’d like someone to go to my apartment and retrieve my bug out bag. Can you make that happen?”

  “I can.” Parker hung up the hotel phone and pulled out his cell again and started texting. “Address?”

  She took the phone from him and typed in the address of the apartment building and added “under the floorboard in the maintenance shed.”

  “They must be some bad motherfuckers you’re running from.” He pursed his lips. “What if I told you that Woolven could shield you from whoever you’re running from? We could fix it so they never bother you again.”

  It would be so easy to believe him. To lean on him and let him take care of her, but that certainly wasn’t fair. He didn’t know who she was, not really. So he didn’t know what he was promising.

  He must’ve seen the doubt on her face. “You may think I’m a soft, little rich boy who can just throw money at a problem. My family is—well, let’s just say we can be bad motherfuckers, too. We didn’t get to be where we are by eating someone else’s shit sundae with a spoon.”

  Her heart twisted on itself just a bit. “What if I told you I recognized the name you spoke earlier and the people after me are just as bad. That they’re…” She struggled to find the right description. “…the same.”

  Belle should’ve just come out said she was a vampire, but she needed to know how he was going to react. He didn’t seem like the type to sell her out, but he didn’t know her. Why should he put his whole family at risk for someone he barely knew? She didn’t expect him to be a saint. After all, she’d do what she had to do to protect herself and anyone she loved.

  Even sell him out. She’d feel bad about it, and it would keep her up nights—days—whatever. The point being, she’d do it.

  “I don’t know, Parker. We barely know each other and—”

  He held up his hand. “Look, I know all of that. But necessity makes for strange bedfellows. I know I’m totally fucking up this negotiation by showing you all my cards, but I prefer honesty. It’s easier.”

  His words made her feel like the lowest piece of slime. Like she’d already been obliterated and she was just what was left on the bottom of someone’s shoe. She tried not to shrink in her chair.

  Parker continued, “I need you. My family needs you. We can’t afford the scandal. Or to insult the DeVaughns. If we present this like some kind of whirlwind romance, it keeps our board happy. It keeps the DeVaughns…” He held his hands out like they were the mighty scales of justice weighing their sins. “…Maybe not happy, but understanding. And maybe this can do something for you, too.”

  “Well, you already put neon on the target on my back.” She sighed. “Not you, specifically. I mean, you did tell me who you were. I just didn’t believe you.”

  He peered at her. “Whyever not?”

  “Come on. Really? Feature the headline. Billionaire Dines At Greasy Lamb. Marries Waitress.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s like some stupid rom-com.”

  “Well, it did happen. And here we are. Also, what’s wrong with rom-coms? People have to fall in love somehow.”

  She squinted at him and looked around for more cameras. This had to be an episode of Punk’d. She was sure of it.

  “What? Not every billionaire is a jaded bastard. Anyway, back to the task at hand. You’ve been revealed. I’m sorry about that, but what about hiding in plain sight? The people who are after you probably don’t want the attention it would garner them to target the public figure you’ve become.”

  “Yeah, for my five minutes of fame. Then what?”

  “We’ll handle it, Belle. The Woolven gift to you.”

  She shook her head, more to quell the surge of hope in her chest than anything. “You’re making some mighty big promises, Parker. Promises your family might think are too much to honor.”

  “I’ve got dark secrets of my own, Belle.” He took her hand. “And if my family won’t honor my promises, I will. I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  That’s when Belle was sure she was fucked, when she looked up into his earnest hazel eyes and saw how much he believed everything he told her. The passion behind it. She let herself believe that safety and freedom could be had together, and that his promises were more than fool’s gold.

  “Okay, Parker. We’ll try this sham. I’ll be your temporary wife.”

  Because for a vampire, everything was temporary in the unending time that yearned before them. Even matrimony with a werewolf.

  Chapter 3

  He wanted to eat her.

  Parker salivated just thinking about it. Goddess, she was beautiful. And delicious. So delicious. He totally understood his brothers and wanting to devour their mates.

  Not that she was his mate.

  She wasn’t. He wouldn’t let himself even think about that.

  But she did want to be eaten just as badly as he wanted to eat her. Her pheromones were spraying all over the place.

  Parker supposed in the car on the way to the airport probably wasn’t the best place. It wasn’t a Woolven-proofed vehicle and driver. Just some poor bastard trying to making a living, but damn, was it ever tempting.

  She looked over at him and arched a brow. “Stop it.”

  “I’m not doing anything.” He was usually good at playing innocent. Being the youngest in a family of troublemakers, he had to do everything bigger, badder, and with much more efficiency.

  “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

  He couldn’t help the smirk, not that he really wanted to. “So do you.”

  “Me? I’m just sitting here.”

  “Being all hot and delicious.”

  “Referring to me as food really isn’t as sexy as you think it is.” She licked her lips.

  “Really?” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I was thinking about eating you like a peach. What’s not sexy about that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The whole mortal danger thing?”

  “Excuse me, but I do believe that’s part of the thrill.”

  “Not so much. I don’t really fancy being strung up and slaughtered like a pig. Not on my list of things to do.”

  He narrowed his eyes. Did she know what he was? On the one hand, that would make life a lot easier. On the other, how did she know? What was she? She had vampires on her ass, that was all he knew.

  That, and she was suddenly defensive. He could smell it. Parker was less direct than his brothers. He had a more sly approach. So he was content to unravel her slowly. Of course, he wanted to do it with his teeth and his tongue, but he could be patient.

  “It wouldn’t be a slaughter. It’d be a feast, though.” He licked his lips.

  “You’ve got a one track mind.”

  “You’re right about that.” He winked at her.

  “If this were any real kind of marriage, you wouldn’t let your wife leave the bedroom—” she pretended to count on he
r fingers “—ever.”

  “Still might not.” He grinned. “With your permission, of course.”

  She opened the mini bar and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “Why not, right? To celebrate our nuptials?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

  She swigged directly from the bottle.

  She was obviously afraid.

  He didn’t like that at all. “Hey, you’re safe with me. You know that, right?”

  She handed him the bottle. “As safe as I can be.”

  “Even if they know where you’re going, even if they find you, where I’m taking you—” he shook his head “—it won’t end well for the uninvited.”

  “Why? Do you have some magick power I don’t know about?”

  He decided to test her reaction. “Actually, yes. We have a witch.”

  At that, he smelled something like fear, and it hadn’t come from Belle. The driver was terrified. He’d forgotten they didn’t have a Woolven employee.

  Sloppy, Parker. Sloppy.

  Except there was no reason for him to be terrified.

  “Pull over,” he drawled.

  “Sir?” the driver asked.

  Parker schooled his body’s reactions carefully. He didn’t change his expression. Didn’t stiffen his spine. He kept his usual playboy carriage, sprawled out as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “The car. Pull it over,” he instructed again.

  “We’re miles from the airport.”

  “Yes, yes we are. I want some time with my new wife. Pull over. And get out.”

  “I… can’t do that.”

  “I believe you can. I believe it’s in your best interest. So do you.” Parker considered putting his fist through the plexi glass that separated them, but he didn’t want to frighten Belle. At least, not before he could tell her the truth.

  “They’re going to kill me.”

  “Parker?” Belle asked, worry creasing her face.

  “No one is going to kill you.” His beast grew hungry. It longed to speak, to tell this puny sack of meat that if those who’d employed him didn’t kill him that Parker would. He’d tear him limb from limb—