Winning the Alpha

by Carina Wilder

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  The first two books of the Billionaires and Curves Series are available here:

  Taken With You

  Crazy About You

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Introduction

  The pack stood in the clearing, tense figures facing one another around the perimeter of the circle which for centuries had been reserved for trials and competitions among their kind. Tonight’s confrontation would determine who was to be their new leader, purely through a show of brute strength and physical superiority. The winner was to be the new alpha and the vanquished, if he survived, would be his second in command.

  The hulking grey wolf padded to the center of the makeshift ring first and stood, tall and arrogant, waiting. If any wolf was capable of looking cocky, it was him.

  His reluctant foe emerged from between two pack members, black as night, his intelligent eyes flashing bright against his fur. It wasn’t the potential of a loss that bothered him; he knew that he could win this fight with ease.

  But he had no intention of doing so.

  One:

  A Chance Encounter

  “It looks great on you,” I said, leaning against the only bare portion of the shop’s wall. Delicate blouses, skinny jeans and tiny t-shirts covered the racks surrounding me, mocking me derisively with their diminutive sizes. To say that this store and its contents had not been designed for women of my stature was a pretty big understatement.

  “You don’t think the cut of the dress makes me look fat?” asked Kate, turning sideways and examining her perfect shape in the full-length mirror. The red garment hugged each of her curves, flattering her 120-pound frame completely; not that it was in need of any help to look like the ideal female form.

  Rather than respond in a way I knew would come out as nothing more than thinly veiled rage, I literally bit my tongue. It took only a moment for Kate’s face to change to an expression of horror. She turned to me when she became aware of what had emerged from her mouth, a look of utter remorse in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, Nikki,” she said. “I didn’t mean…”

  “To flaunt your perfect, sexy body in front of me and imply that you’re fat when we could easily fit two of you into one leg of my jeans?”

  “I’m an idiot,” she said. “I shouldn’t have used that word. I know you hate it. And you know I wasn’t comparing the two of us, don’t you? You know I think you’re gorgeous.”

  “I know. But I do hate that word, and I should hook wires up to you and shock the hell out of you every time you use it.”

  I eventually let her off the hook by smiling, though what I really wanted to do was throttle her. She may have been my best friend but even so she should have understood what it feels like to have a skinny girl insinuate that she’s too big. She had no idea what it was like to be a curvy woman; what a challenge it was to walk into a shop like this and know right away that nothing would fit over your left thigh let alone over the rest of you.

  It was like my ilk was expected to go to a special mall for rejects, and I despised how alienating it was, and how unfair.

  “Come on,” she said after she’d put her own clothes back on and hung up the dress. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  Something to eat. Yes indeed, that’s exactly what a girl wants when she feels gigantic.

  “You’re not going to buy that dress? It was perfect for you,” I said, trying to switch my mind into a gear that wouldn’t focus on my own shortcomings.

  “I couldn’t buy it. It would remind me of what an ass I’ve been.”

  “Silly girl. Now I feel bad.”

  “Well, don’t. I need to learn lessons and what better way than to punish myself?”

  “All right, but just so you don’t lose sleep over it, you’re forgiven. I know you’ll go home and flagellate yourself with a cat o’ nine tails later, just to make it up to me. Only a proper friend would feel so much remorse. Now, what do you want to eat?” I asked, putting her out of her misery finally.

  “Let’s just wander and see what we see. I think there’s a new restaurant at the other end of the mall. We can make our way down there.”

  “Works for me. But let’s not rush. Maybe we’ll see another dress that’ll be less saturated with guilt.”

  We strolled with no real destination in mind, glancing at shoes and clothes through windows, but I seemed to have taken the wind out of Kate’s sails and she exhibited no desire to try anything else on. I paused now and then to point out some cute shoes, always displayed under bright lights in pretty assortments of footwear meant to stop women like me in our tracks. Shoes were the one thing that big girls and skinny ones could agree on; I could wear dainty little ones just like my friend could, and I never had to worry about whether they’d fit or not. Extra-extra-large was not a shoe size.

  “So,” Kate said at one point as we were looking at a pair of sexy high-heeled black ankle boots, “You haven’t told me yet: what are you going to do now that school’s over? Have you decided?”

  As we continued to meander I said, “I still don’t know. I have no idea what my problem is. It’s like I don’t have the will to seek out a career, or even to think about it. And I’m worried about leaving my mother, even though I know I need to if only for my own sanity.”

  “Do you think she’ll be lonely?”

  “Honestly, I think she’s been lonely since my father left. She’s so wary and untrusting now; she doesn’t let anyone near her.”

  “Do you ever wonder about what happened there, with your father, I mean? Do you think she’ll tell you one of these days?”

  “I wonder all the time. I wish she’d tell me about it but she’s held it in all these years so it’s unlikely. Those rumours from when I was a kid never went away, you know. The ones about my father being a shifter.”

  I seldom talked to anyone about this. Shifters were a controversial topic; some believed in their existence while others didn’t. A part of me wanted to, since legend had it that my father had left because his wolf instincts had kicked in and he’d deserted my mother to be with his pack. They said that he and my mother had a falling out; she didn’t want to bring a child into a wolf pack, especially a half-breed.

  The story was elaborate and had seemed like nothing more than a fairy tale when I was a child, but as I grew older I’d become more interested and curious to learn the truth. Whatever had happened, my mother had never recovered and she wouldn’t talk to me or anyone else about it.

  “They’re only stories, Nikki, made up by kids to make you feel bad. You should forget about them.”

  “I should, I suppose. But I don’t know. There’s a part of me that would love to understand, to know the truth. I can’t say that there’s such a thing as shifters, but I can’t say that there isn’t. Deep down I feel like it’s the truth.”

  Kate changed the subject. She’d never been comfortable talking about this, being the practical-minded girl that she was, and I knew better than to try and keep the discussion going with her.

  “What about finding a temporary job for now, until you find something more permanent?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll have to find something; I’m just procrastinating, truth be told. I suppose I should start looking on Monday. Even if it’s just a p
art-time job working in a shop, I think I’d feel like I was getting my life together. Sometimes I wish I’d gotten a sensible degree like you did.”

  Kate patted me on the back sympathetically. Her degree was in medicine and she was starting a residency in the fall, whereas I’d just finished my undergraduate studies in English Literature, and was only now realizing how pointless it might have been regardless of how much I’d enjoyed the process.

  I’d been left feeling quite lost and drifting for a few months, which wasn’t wonderful for my self-esteem. Kate was right to push me a little. Someone like her who was determined, focused and competitive was a good influence on me.

  I stopped in front of another shoe shop. A pair of red patent leather pumps was calling my name.

  “There’s some good motivation, right there,” I said. “If I want to buy the shoes of my dreams I need to make some cash.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Kate. “You’ll be rich yet. And may your closet be ever filled with hot stilettos.”

  I found myself all but drooling as I looked longingly at the shoes. Their high heels might even make my calves look shapely, I thought, not to mention how good my plentiful bottom could potentially look. Well, in a perfect world, at least.

  I began to assemble an outfit in my mind to go with them as I looked at my reflection in the window. My mind struggled to tell itself that I was attractive, that I could be beautiful with a little effort. In the glass I saw my blond hair cascade around my shoulders, my large almond-shaped eyes peering back and studying the girl before them. I concluded that in fact I looked quite pretty, that is until I noticed the waif-like woman standing next to me in the form of Kate.

  As I daydreamed about a world without tiny women, another reflection appeared; this one a hulking figure stepping up silently behind me. I could only see the faint outline of a tall man, who for some reason also seemed to be attempting to get a glimpse through the window. Silently he seemed to observe the women’s footwear until a buttery voice behind us said, “Excuse me, ladies.”

  My first thought was that it must be one of those men who hang out in the middle of the mall, selling perfume and implying that passing women are lunatics not to want to try it out. I’d always gotten aggravated at having to explain that I didn’t want their vile, smelly liquid all over me or my clothing.

  I turned around quickly, fully prepared to tell him that I was deathly allergic and that my throat would swell shut, followed by my head exploding and making a mess all over his designer jeans.

  Kate turned too, and I saw her flash the man a smile. When I saw him I knew immediately why she was doing it. He was drop-dead gorgeous: tall and fit, with a head of thick, dark hair. His sculpted jaw was coated in dark stubble and his eyes were light blue and intense against olive skin.

  “Of course,” I thought, rolling my eyes in my mind. “He’s about to try and pick my perfect friend up.” This wasn’t an entirely uncommon scenario, though the men always ended up disappointed since Kate was involved in a serious relationship with a young doctor she’d probably end up marrying.

  I should have carried a sign that said,

  Eyes off the skinny girl and also:

  Fuck Off.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your shoe-gazing,” said the handsome man as he smiled at…me? I noticed with shock that he wasn’t even looking at Kate; it was as though she didn’t exist. I wanted to point to her and say, “She’s right there. Just move your eyes a few feet to the right and you’ll be fine.”

  “That’s okay,” I said instead. “Those heels were out of my league anyhow.”

  He looked over my shoulder at the shoes.

  “Hardly,” he said. “I think you’d be a perfect match.”

  I found myself blushing like a silly schoolgirl and grinning like an even sillier one. What an idiot I was.

  “So you’re probably wondering why a strange man’s come over to talk to you. I’m Tristan Rivers. I’m a television producer, but don’t hold it against me.”

  “Okay,” I said, hesitancy palpable in my voice as I tried to defeat my desire to tell him how much I would in fact like to hold pretty well anything against him. I imagined that he was in charge of some Jerry Springer-type show where skinny and fat women fight for supremacy and throw chairs at each other, shouting out expletive-ridden accusations of boyfriend-stealing, husband-stealing, ex-husband-stealing and all manner of other womanly bitch-offenses.

  Tristan laughed. “You’re excited about this, I can tell.”

  “If by ‘excited,’ you mean ‘terrified about whatever insane thing you’re about to say,’ you’re quite right.”

  “What show do you produce?” asked Kate, smiling sideways at me. She seemed to be thinking more positively than I was.

  “I’m working on a new, yet to be named reality program. It’s similar to others that have been done in that it involves a single man and a bunch of women who hope to end up with him. We’re finishing up the recruiting process here in Louiston. I’m sorry…before I go further, what was your name?”

  “Mine?” I asked, knowing full well that he was looking at me. “I’m Nicole. Nikki.”

  “Nikki.” He extended his right hand and shook mine firmly, a warm smile on his face.

  Something happened in that moment which made me understand for the first time what people talked about when they said that a lightning bolt had hit them. As I looked into Tristan’s piercing eyes and felt his flesh on mine, a flash of heat shot throughout my entire body, leaving no inch of it untouched. Somehow a small explosion had occurred inside me that had sent shards of tingling matter to every extremity; my knees seemed to go weak and a warmth surged through my chest unlike anything I’d felt before. If I were a slightly more old-fashioned girl I would say that I’d swooned.

  Aside from my newfound physical weakness, I was overtaken suddenly by something in the air around us. There was a musky, sexy scent filling my nose, and it may have been my imagination, but I felt that I could taste Tristan in the atmosphere. I wasn’t sure if the divine molecules had been floating in the air before or had only begun to ease out of his pores when he touched me. I hoped for the latter. And I felt that my own scent was altering as my body became a sea of pheromones, instructing me to find a way to get this man naked at any cost. If only it were socially acceptable to rip a man’s clothes from his form in the middle of a mall.

  “Nikki, I’m wondering if you’d like to be one of the women on this show, one of the candidates,” Tristan said, holding onto my hand longer than he needed to. His voice had changed a little and I thought I detected a hint of a conspiratorial intimacy in it. “That is, if you’re single, of course.”

  “I am single. But just to be clear, you’re talking to me, right? Not my friend.” I asked. I hated showing insecurity but I felt like something was amiss here. What kind of reality show recruits a big girl to be among a group of hot women with fake breasts? This was setting off alarm bells.

  “Yes, you.” He turned to Kate. “This is in no way a reflection on you, by the way, um…”

  “Kate,” she said, grinning. She was loving this. “I’m not offended in the least.”

  “Excuse me, Tristan, but what kind of show is this really? I’m not exactly your typical bikini babe, as you may have noticed.”

  He looked at me, an expression of reproach on his face. “I’ve told you the basic structure. Look, I stopped to talk to you because I saw you from about a hundred feet away and knew immediately that you were perfect.”

  “Perfect for what?”

  “Just…perfect.”

  I was blushing all over again and Kate was trying to stifle a giggle. Our newfound position as two teenage girls was now solidified.

  “I’m far from perfect.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  I looked at him, trying to detect a note of irony in his face or voice. Was this a trick? Was there a hidden camera around? Was I going to be humiliated?

  “Okay, so let me get
this straight: you want me to be on a show, battling with other women to compete for the affections of some handsome man who may find me completely unattractive, repulsive even?”

  “You could put it that way, yes. But so could any woman on the show. That’s what it’s all about, after all.”

  “Don’t you think that might be a little embarrassing?”

  “For the man if he rejects you, yes. He’d be an idiot.”

  “Well, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? I’ve rarely met a man who’s so good at saying all the right things. Must be a TV producer skill.”

  “Nikki, stop being such an idiot,” said Kate, her smile never fading. “I tell you all the time that you’re beautiful and you never believe me. Now maybe you’ll start.”

  I allowed myself to be silent for a second. I was never able to accept compliments about my looks and I had no confidence to absorb them, but this man seemed genuine.

  “Let me ask you this one question, Tristan,” I said. “Is it your job to recruit for this show? It’s not normally a producer who does this sort of thing, is it?”

  “No. But as the senior producer, I have the final say in the selection process, and we need one more girl. Like I said, you’re perfect.”

  “Oh, Nikki, you have to do it. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” said Kate. She was right, I knew. Even if it ended up being horrible at least it would be something to remember.

  “I suppose…”

  “Don’t suppose. Just do it. You were just saying that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. And like she said, she is single,” she added, turning to the handsome producer.

  I looked at Tristan, searching for my own answer in his eyes.

  He pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to me. “I don’t want to pressure you. That is, I totally want to pressure you. I want you. On the show, I mean.” I expected him to blush now, to be embarrassed, but this man’s confidence seemed unshakeable. “Here’s my card. Email, text, call me as soon as you have an answer. But I hope it’s yes. And don’t worry---I’ll look after you and make sure no harm comes to you, Nikki. And in case it’s a selling point, I should tell you: this show isn’t quite like the ones you may have seen. There are a few, shall we say, major twists.”