Romancing the Alpha

by Alicia Montgomery

  Frankie yanked the door open and stalked to the dining room. She peeked through the doorway that led to the main room, and just as Enzo said, Grant Anderson was sitting at their best table, conversing with one of their servers. She quickly backtracked, pressing up against the wall, her heart pounding. God, what was he doing? She shook her head and walked the opposite way, towards the back door that led to the kitchen. Enzo and Dante were there, their heads close together in a hushed conversation.

  “Ciao, Nonna Gianna,” she greeted the older, heavyset woman standing over the stove, giving her a kiss on each cheek. She was wearing a white apron over her floral dress, her white hair pulled back in a neat bun and covered by a hairnet.

  “Francesca, mimma, ciao,” she greeted back. Nonna Gianna was her grandmother’s human cousin, and currently the one other person who knew all the secret family recipes they served at the restaurant. She trained Dante from the time he expressed interest in learning how to cook, when he turned sixteen. After nine years of training, she declared that Dante had perfected all of the recipes and was happy to share the title of head chef with him.

  Not that she needed the extra help. At 77 years old, Nonna Gianna was still spry and independent, living by herself in her own apartment not far away from the restaurant. She was also a tough old bird, who didn’t take crap from anyone.

  “What’s this I hear about some man you ran over the other night and now he’s dining here? Did you promise him free food so he wouldn’t sue you? We can’t afford to be giving away food each time one of you breaks the law.”

  Frankie slapped her hand over her forehead. “Ugh, no Nonna, I didn’t.”

  “So, he’s here because…?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe he’s a glutton for punishment?”

  “He’s a Lycan,” Enzo said.

  “Another Alpha,” Dante added. “The New York Clan’s Alpha.”

  “Another Alpha, here?” Gianna put her hands on her hips. “Francesca, why aren’t you tossing him out if he’s not been invited?”

  “Because…” she peeked outside, through the small window where they sent the food out. She could see Grant having a glass of wine. “Did he order the 2009 Masseto Merlot?” she said, spying the label. It was the priciest wine on their list and one of only two bottles they kept.

  “Oh yeah,” Enzo said. “I had to go to the cellar myself to get it. He ordered two starters, a pasta, and the Osso Bucco too.”

  “That’s the most expensive thing on our menu,” Frankie said.

  Nonna Gianna’s eyebrow shot up and looked at Frankie. “Sounds like he’s trying to impress someone.”

  She shot her great-aunt a look. “Maybe he was hungry.”

  “Go find out what he wants then,” Gianna prodded.

  “No way!” She shook her head and backed up against the door. Dante opened his mouth to speak but she shot him a cutting look.

  Unfortunately, at that moment, one of the servers decided to open the door to the kitchen, sending Frankie staggering out into the dining room. She fell back, and was able to catch one of the potted plants and regained her balance, but it was too late. The one person she didn’t want to see had spotted her, his gaze boring into her back.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shirt and turned around, walking towards the table.

  “Alpha,” she greeted. “I hope this isn’t a declaration of war, with you just strolling into my territory unannounced.” She emphasized the “my”, hoping it made her sound confident.

  Grant looked up at her, the smile on his handsome face revealing a set of perfect white teeth. “Alpha,” he nodded. “I believe I was invited.”

  “By whom?”

  “You, of course.”

  “I did not! When did I--”

  Grant cleared his throat. “I believe you said, ‘come to the restaurant anytime.’” He gave her another megawatt smile.

  Frankie’s face grew red as a tomato. “That invitation was for your sister.”

  “Oh, so you would invite my family into your territory, and the mother of my heir presumptive, but not me?”

  She considered rescinding her invitation, but it’s not as if he would be back again, at least she would make sure of that.

  “Fine,” she turned to walk away, but a large, warm hand grabbed her arm. Her skin tingled where their bare skin met and she shivered. “Please, let go of me,” she said quietly.

  “Alpha, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend,” he tugged at her arm until she looked at him. Green eyes sought hers out. “Please, will you take a seat for a moment, I have business I need to discuss. Life and death.”

  Frankie hesitated as she pulled her arm away from him. She sighed in defeat, and then sat down on the other chair.

  “Wine?” Grant offered with a grin. “I can’t finish the whole bottle by myself.”

  “You can take it with you, we’ll give you a bag,” she said curtly. “Now, what’s this business you need to discuss? And why life and death?”

  “I’m afraid it’s Lycan business,” Grant said as he took a sip of the wine. “Excellent choice, by the way. As is the rest of your wine list.”

  “Thank you. Now what is it you wanted to talk about?” she asked impatiently.

  “It’s Lycan business, so we’ll have to discuss in private.”

  “Fine,” she stood up. “Enjoy your dinner and when you’re done, Enzo will bring you to my office.”

  “Thank you, Alpha,” he raised his glass at her and she gave him a curt nod before she walked away.

  Enzo came up to her, but before he could say anything, she put a hand up. “Uh-uh, no, not another word,” she wagged a finger a him. “Now, when he’s done eating, show him the way to my office.” And without another word, she walked away.

  ***

  Slamming the door behind her, Frankie sat on her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Grant Anderson twisted her words, manipulated his way into her territory and restaurant, and now he even got her to agree to meet in privately. She’d gone crazy.

  Yummy scent Lycan.

  She banged her head on her table, crossed her arms over her head and let out a pained groan. Oh shut up, she-wolf.

  Dammit, why did Grant Anderson have to be so sexy and hot? In the last two days, she found herself staring out into space, thinking about that night. His large, warm hands all over her, his lips on hers and on her neck. She shivered involuntarily when she remembered his fingers touching her, his cock pressing up against her. If Dante and Matt hadn’t arrived at that moment, would she have let him continue? Her thoughts wandered that way, wondering how the sex would be like. Hot, heavy, and intense, she guessed. Grant Anderson seemed like the type of man who knew how to make a woman scream and moan and beg for more. But despite her traitorous body, something inside her screamed danger. He was exactly the type of man she should be running away from.

  Lifting her head up, she looked around the office and sighed. It was small and cramped, with papers, books, and all kinds of knick-knacks all over the place.

  Well, not like I can do anything about it now. She stood up, doing her best to make the office presentable, at least. There was a dead plant in the corner she had forgotten to water a few weeks ago. With a sigh, she picked it up and threw it in the trashcan.

  Frankie sat back down in the leather office chair, and booted up her computer. It would be a while before Grant finished his dinner, so she should get some work done. When the screen came to life and she logged into the accounting software, she saw that at least half her work was saved. “Grazie a dio!” she exclaimed and began to enter the bills and numbers again.

  Work was a good distraction, and after thirty minutes, she clicked on the “save” button on the screen.

  A knock interrupted her thoughts and she tensed, sensing who it was.

  Was he done already? She used her fingers to brush her hair back, tucking some loose tendrils behind her ear. Quickly grabbing a tube of lip gloss from her drawer, she swiped some of i
t on. “Come in,” she called.

  The door opened slowly, and Grant Anderson stepped inside. His large frame made the already cramped room seem smaller. He gave the room a cursory glance and in three steps, was in front of her desk.

  “Take a seat, Alpha,” she nodded to the chair.

  “Thank you.”

  He took a seat and Frankie groaned inwardly when the rickety chair creaked under his weight. Really need to get that fixed, she reminded herself.

  “It was an excellent dinner, by the way,” he flashed her a smile.

  “Thank you, we’re very proud of our food.”

  He looked at the two photos on the wall beside her desk. “Is that your grandmother and mother? The former Alphas?”

  She nodded.

  “I can see the resemblance,” he commented.

  “Right, well. What did you want to talk about, Alpha?” she asked.

  “Grant,” he said.

  “Grant?” she echoed.

  “My name is Grant. You don’t have to be so formal with me, not when it’s just the two of us, Frankie.”

  The use of her first name rankled her, but what annoyed her most was her reaction to it. His voice was dripping with promise and sex when he said her name and her knees felt weak. “Fine. What did you want to talk about, Grant?”

  He leaned forward, his voice taking a serious tone. “Have you been contacted by the High Council about the events of the last months? With the witches? And the mages?”

  Frankie’s brows knitted. “I don’t think so. I mean, no, definitely not. What are mages?”

  Grant crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Ever since Alynna showed up, she’s been targeted in a series of attacks. First someone broke into her home while she was sleeping, then she was poisoned with belladonna and then finally they attempted to kidnap her.”

  Frankie gasped.

  “Then they turned to the clan,” Grant continued. “They hit our night club, Blood Moon, and set off a firebomb in my office building, killing two employees. One of them was Lycan.”

  “I’m sorry,” she shook her head, her anger and annoyance at Grant dissipating.

  “We found out it was a rogue group of ex-witches. They’re called mages, and their leader, Stefan, is hell-bent on killing our kind.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. Now he got her full attention. “Why weren’t we informed? No one has told us anything about this!”

  Grant shook his head. “That’s what I was afraid of. Of course, we’ve reported everything to the Lycan High Council. But they’ve been slow on taking any action and even though we’ve been in talks with the Witch Assembly, nothing’s happened.”

  “That’s crazy!” Frankie slammed her fist on the table. “What if…” Her eyes grew wide. “They were the ones who kidnapped you, weren’t they?”

  The other Alpha nodded. “We can’t prove it, but I can tell you magic was involved.”

  “And they were in my territory!” Her eyes flashed in anger. She thought of her clan, her relatives, her brothers. It was her duty to keep them safe, after all. “What can we do?”

  Grant let out a frustrated breath. “The High Council is dragging its feet on sending out information to all the clans. They don’t want to cause a panic, they said. But, they can’t stop me from telling other clans about it, though I’ve been treading carefully, so as not to step on any toes. San Francisco has been informed, and so have Chicago and Connecticut.”

  Frankie paused. “New Jersey isn’t exactly in the same league as those clans.”

  “But so far, your territory and mine are the only ones we know of that the mages have been in.”

  She sighed. “Of course, I mean, we’ll do what we can, but I don’t have any security, bodyguards, or any spare resources. I don’t even have a Beta or a Liaison.”

  “We don’t have a solid plan yet, as I don’t want to upset the High Council,” Grant explained. “But I wanted to make sure you knew about this threat, especially since you’re our closest neighbor.”

  “I appreciate the warning,” Frankie clasped her hands together and sat back in her chair, her face pensive.

  “You have a right to know,” Grant stated.

  “I’ll have to call for a meeting with my clan, and tell everyone to keep their guards up. That’s all I can do for now. Thank you for letting me know,” she stood up. “It’s getting late and I’m sure the drive to Manhattan won’t be so bad now.”

  Grant stood up, and Frankie was relieved he seemed to take the hint. She walked to the door, intending to let him out, but he put hand on her shoulder. “Wait, there’s one more thing.”

  She turned around, looking up at him. Grant towered over her and she realized how close he was. So close, she could smell his ocean spray scent and hear the roar of the waves in her ear. “What are you…”

  He leaned forward, planting his hands on the door, his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her. “I think we should talk. About the other night.”

  She flinched, then sighed. “You remember?”

  “I can’t forget it,” he gave her a wicked smile.

  “You were obviously drugged, so it doesn’t have to be a…thing…” she put her hands on his chest, intending to push him away. She could feel the warmth of his body and his muscles underneath her hands.

  “I don’t think it was the drugs,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “And I can definitely remember all of it. You kissed me back, and you enjoyed it. I want to finish what we started.” One hand slid down to her waist, and he pressed his lower body to his.

  “Let go of me,” she said weakly. Her heart pounded loudly, his scent enveloping her.

  “Why?” he nuzzled her neck and she froze. “Damn, you smell incredible, you know that?”

  “Please, Grant…I…” She stopped when he trailed kisses up her jawline. Before he could kiss her, she turned her head away and pushed him off. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?” Grant’s steely gaze bore into her. “That night, you wanted it too.”

  “That’s different,” she stated. “This won’t work.”

  “What won’t work?”

  She waved her hand between them. “This. You and me.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not?”

  “Well, you’re you…and I’m me!” she stammered. God, his scent was driving her crazy and she couldn’t put a thought together. It was delicious and she closed her eyes, trying to tamp down a growl coming from within her. It was an instinctive action, like a gut feeling but she knew where it was coming from.

  Yes. Yum.

  Her inner wolf, normally so silent and dormant, was somehow reacting to Grant’s presence.

  “I don’t get it,” he countered.

  “Don’t be obtuse, Grant,” she ducked under his arm and stood behind him. “You know what I mean, it doesn’t work that way.” Did he really want her to say it out loud? That she was nowhere near his league? He was Alpha to the world’s most powerful Lycan clan and a billionaire CEO. She could barely pay her restaurant suppliers on time and keep her ragtag band of Lycans in check.

  He turned around to face her. “What? Two consenting adults doing what they want?”

  She threw her hands up in frustration. “Argghh! I mean, you’re you and I’m me. Our clans-”

  “This isn’t about clans,” Grant interrupted. “And I’m not asking you for a long-term commitment, just…go out with me. Dinner. Tomorrow night.”

  “I’m busy,” she brushed him off, and walked over to her desk.

  “Then how about the day after that?”

  “I’m here all the time, I’m the manager,” she retorted as she sat down and turned to her computer. “Now, I still have work to do before we close up.”

  “Frankie-”

  “Don’t let me keep you,” she said in a cool voice. “And I’ll be in touch with Alynna about the mage matter”

  Grant stared her down, but
she refused to meet his gaze. “Good night, then, Alpha,” he gave her a nod and turned to leave.

  She kept her eyes on her computer, and when she heard the door click shut, she let out a deep sigh. Grant’s scent lingered on in the small room and she groaned aloud. Well, hopefully that’s the last I see or hear of Grant Anderson.

  Chapter Eight

  The following night, Frankie was in the kitchen, checking to see if the sink was working. The repair guy was there that afternoon and assured her that he fixed it. When she turned the tap on, she didn’t realize the nozzle was facing her. Cold water sprayed all over the front of her white shirt.

  “Arrggghhhh!” she groaned in frustration. The white fabric stuck to her chest, making it see-through.

  “Yo, Frankie,” Enzo said as he casually strolled into the kitchen.

  “What?” she barked, pulling her shirt away from her chest.

  “He’s here again.”

  “Who?” she asked absentmindedly, reaching for a kitchen towel to wipe her face.

  “You know, your boyfriend, the New York Alpha.”

  “He’s not my-what?” Her head snapped up so fast, she felt dizzy. “What is he doing here?”

  Enzo gave her a grin. “Says he liked the food, wanted to have it for dinner again.”

  Wanting to see for herself, Frankie pushed the door to the dining room wide open, the wood slamming into the concrete wall as she entered the main room. Her eyes zeroed in on Grant Anderson, who was, once again, standing by the host’s station. She immediately regretted coming out to the dining room. He saw her, flashed her a smile and gave her a small wave. Then his eyes moved down to her chest and she realized that he could probably see her black lacy bra through the wet fabric. Her face flushed and she stormed back into the kitchen.

  “What should I do?” Enzo asked.

  “Tell him to go away!” Frankie said angrily.

  “Can we really afford to turn away business?” He pointed to the half-empty dining room. “Plus, all the servers are dying to have him seated in their section. You should have seen the tip he left last night, Frankie!”