The Alpha's Choice

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  He was sprawled across the bed on his back, barefooted, jeans zipped but unbuttoned, and shirtless as if he'd laid back to rest for a moment before he finished dressing. His skin was still damp as was his hair and his lashes were long and dark against the paleness of his skin.

  Damn, the man was beautiful and Kat had to dig her fingers into the door frame to keep from going to him and smoothing the naughty boy curl back from his forehead. She wanted to do much more than that and the thoughts that were running through her head shocked her. Were these her thoughts? Or were they the result of that Alpha's charm Tilda spoke of? And Kat wondered if that charm might have a bit of magic in it, too.

  "Charles," she called softly from the doorway and when he didn't answer or open his eyes she giggled a little. "Char-lie, oh Char-lie," she called in the singsong voice. "Wake up, beastie boy"

  Charles still didn't open his eyes, seemed to be sound asleep and then he smiled and she knew it was the sound of her voice that put that blissful look on his face. He looked relaxed and happy and she wondered how often he looked that way. She didn't think he was a happy man and the thought touched her heart in a place that hadn't been touched since she was little girl.

  Again she had to fight the urge to go to him, to comfort him, though why a man who could afford a house like this and those cars in the barn would need comfort she had no idea. She only knew that when the smile left his face, her smile disappeared as well.

  She tiptoed across the carpeted floor to the bedside and touched his denim clad knee, thinking she was safe enough if she didn't touch him skin to skin. She was wrong. As soon as she laid her hand on his knee, the hum of sexual awareness began. She closed her eyes and savored it for a moment before she shook his knee and called his name again.

  "Charles," she called softly, "Mrs. Martin has your supper ready. You need to bring Buddy home."

  He smiled again and reached out his hand to her and slowly opened his eyes…

  "I was dreaming about you," he said sleepily and grasped her hand and pulled her to him.

  For a man half asleep, his grip was remarkably strong. Already off balance, Kat fell across that long lean body and couldn't bring herself to resist when his other arm wrapped around her back and pinned her to his chest. His hand slid up her back and into her curls and held her face close to his.

  She moistened her lips and closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss, but they snapped open again in surprise when he kissed her nose instead. She laughed at the affectionate gesture.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  The buzz of attraction was still there, but subdued when compared to what it had been before. At least now she could think clearly.

  "Mrs. Martin has your supper ready. You said you'd be down in twenty minutes. It's been more like forty-five." She pushed herself up from his chest. "You need to let me up or you'll need another shower. I'm filthy."

  Charles laughed and it was deep and rumbly and sexy. "Mmmm, I like my women filthy… and dirty… and a little bit kinky, too. How about you?"

  Kat laughed and it was rich and throaty and relaxed. "Not into women, sorry." She tried, not too hard, to wiggle back onto her feet, but Charles wouldn't let her. "And your sexy lines aren't the least bit tempting. You'll have to work harder if you want to attract a really good woman."

  "But that's my point, sweetheart. I prefer the bad ones."

  "And that's my point, beastie boy. I'm not interested." This time she forced herself to wiggle free and stand between his knees at the edge of the bed. "You better get your rear in gear or you'll have to face the wrath of Mrs. Martin. She strikes me as a woman who doesn't like to be crossed."

  "Maybe for you, but she adores me."

  Kat headed for the closet where she'd stored her meager supply of clothes and pulled a pair of navy slacks and a light blue tailored blouse from their hangers. Jeans and a T-shirt would've been fine, but she's had the sudden urge to look a little nicer and put together.

  "She'll be sweeping up her adoration along with the rest of the trash if you don't get down there and fix her son. He's beginning to get restless and we don't want his muddy pawprints all over the floor."

  She headed for the bathroom keeping her eyes averted from the man on the bed. His presence pulled at her and she wanted to return to the position she had just left. She was at the bathroom door before he spoke again.

  "You are you know." She heard the bed creak as he arose from it.

  "I am what?" She stopped in the bathroom doorway, but didn't turn around.

  "Interested. You can't help yourself."

  She had a funny feeling he was right, but she wasn't about to let him think so. "If you're thinking about your Alpha charm, you'd better think again. It's not working and even if it was, you'd be surprised what a girl can resist when she puts her mind to it."

  He didn't reply and when she glanced over her shoulder she saw that he was already gone.

  Her shower was a quick one, enough to sluice off the accumulated dirt and wash her hair for the second time that day. She thought about shaving her legs, realized she'd already done that earlier and decided the little bit of stubble would be another incentive to remain on the straight and narrow where Charles was concerned. She was dressed and ready for supper in fifteen minutes.

  She found them in the dining room. Mrs. Martin had spread a small cloth over one end of the long table and set it for four, two to each side, with a full complement of glasses, silverware, and folded cloth napkins. She'd gone to a lot of trouble for a chili supper.

  "Hey Kitty Kat, don't you look pretty. Doesn't she look pretty Charlie? That necklace is real pretty too, almost as pretty as you. I know what that is. That's a sapphire. That's for September. It's Mama's birthstone. Right Mama?"

  Kat reddened at the complement and fingered the stone of the necklace she'd worn to match her slacks and blouse. It wasn't a real sapphire, but it was her birthstone, too. Her father had given it to her for her ninth birthday, the birthday before the world fell apart. She treasured it as a reminder of the happy life she lived back then.

  "Thank you, Buddy. You're looking pretty good yourself."

  He was, too. His face was shining and his hair was combed back neatly from his forehead. Because of his natural coloring, or lack of it, it was hard to tell if he was still pale, but his cheeks showed a faint pink as did his lips and tongue. He was dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans. She was sorry she missed his 'coming home'.

  She would have liked seeing his transformation, but thought it might be a private matter and didn't want to embarrass him if he came back naked. Maybe she should ask Tilda about that next time they were alone.

  She took the empty seat beside Charles, who looked much too pale, and resolved to trade her place for Buddy's the next time they sat down to eat. If there was a next time. Even without touching him she was acutely aware of Charles' body just a few inches from hers.

  "I'm sorry if I held things up," she said self-consciously, "I didn't think we would be sitting down to supper. I thought we would just grab a bowl in the kitchen. My apologies."

  "Nonsense." Mrs. Martin looked a little offended. "There'll be no grabbing a bowl of anything for a meal as long as I'm in charge of the kitchen." She began to ladle chili from the tureen set in front of her.

  "I'll remember that," Kat said and lowered her eyes and accepting the rebuke.

  Charles hand trembled a little as he passed his bowl to Mrs. Martin. Kat followed Mrs. Martin's lead and ignored it, though her instinct was to force him back into bed and feed him herself.

  He waited patiently for everyone to be served before attacking his bowl as if he hadn't eaten for a week. When compared to Buddy, Charles looked the worse for wear and Kat wondered again about how much energy he expended in saving Buddy's life.

  Buddy matched him spoon for spoon. When his bowl was empty, he laid aside his spoon and would have picked up the bowl in his hands had his mother not sternly cleared her throat and held out her ha
nd for the bowl to refill. She did the same for Charles.

  "It's to bed early for you tonight, my young wolf."

  "Aw, Mama. I don't want to sleep up there alone." Buddy looked bleakly up at the ceiling.

  Charles gave Mrs. Martin a questioning look as he passed his bowl for another refill.

  "I've put Buddy up on the third floor," she explained as she filled the bowl. "I thought I would make the room off the kitchen into the sitting room for myself and Buddy. We can take our meals in there when the others are here. There's plenty of room for a small table and a comfortable chair or two and a television for Buddy. He enjoys his TV in the evening."

  "Ghost Detectives. That's my favorite." Buddy bobbed his head in agreement. Every night at eight o'clock p.m. on channel forty-six."

  "Which is why you have trouble falling asleep," his mother told him. She paused from her ladling duty to give his hand an affectionate pat and then turned back to Charles. "I'll take the room upstairs next to his."

  "I don't like the idea of you running up and down those stairs." Charles accepted his bowl but left it sitting in front of him. "The house is big enough as it is without you taking extra steps and I see no reason why you can't continue to take your meals with us."

  Mrs. Martin smiled and nodded her thanks. "This is fine for every day, but not when you're holding court. When folks come to visit, we'll take our meals separate, as we should. I won't have folks here about looking down on you. You have a reputation to uphold. Fine man like you can't be eating with the hired help. As for moving upstairs, Buddy doesn't like to sleep alone. He sleeps better if I'm nearby. We'll be fine. You take care of your business and we'll take care of ourn."

  "You are my business. If you want to move upstairs, that's fine, but you'll move to the second floor."

  "And what will your company think when they're tucked up under the eaves in the servant's quarters?" Mrs. Martin was clearly displeased, having her own ideas of what was proper and what was not.

  "They'll think my housekeeper and groundsman must be worth their weight in gold. They'll probably try to lure you away with promises of better pay," Charles laughed.

  Mrs. Martin suddenly looked like she was going to cry. She fanned her face with her hand and jumped up from the table. "I forgot the dessert," she said and fled to the kitchen.

  "What did I say?" Charles asked.

  "Maybe I should go check on her." Kat was about to rise, but there was no need.

  Mrs. Martin came through the door and plopped a bowl of strawberries and cream in front of Charles. She straightened her back and took a deep breath.

  "I've been keeping other people's houses for as far back as I can remember," she said in a rush, "And nobody's treated me and Buddy with such care and kindness as you have since we left your mama's house. There's no money in the world that can buy that." Her eyes filled again and she flapped her hands. "Dammit, I forgot the spoon," she said and fled to the kitchen again.

  Charles sat back and just shook his head in bafflement.

  "I think that was a thank you," Kat whispered.

  "What's a groundsman, Charlie?" Buddy asked looking up from his bowl. "Where's he going to sleep?"

  "You're the groundsman, Buddy." Charles nodded to Mrs. Martin as she took her seat and began to spoon out the strawberries as if nothing had happened. "It's your job to keep the outside of the house neat and tidy and to keep an eye on things when I'm not around. It's an important job and I need someone I can trust."

  Buddy beamed at the complement and leaned across the table to pat Kat's hand. "Don't you worry, Miss Kitty Kat, I won't let you down." He turned to Charles "I got to keep an eye on her, Charlie. She's from the city and she says she needs someone to teach her country ways. She's just a bitty thing and real smart and won't take much watchin', so I think I can be your groundsman, too. But you gots to know, Charlie, Miss Kitty Kat comes first. She tried to fight off those men to save me. Mama says we was lucky she didn't get herself kilt. We're beholding to her, so she comes first."

  "Absolutely, Buddy," Charles told him solemnly. "Miss Kitty Kat should always come first."

  Buddy grinned. "Besides, she's prettier than you." He laughed uproariously at his own joke while his mother dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

  Chapter 11

  Kat couldn't sleep. She was too acutely aware of sleeping in Charles' bed while he was sleeping only one wall away. He'd played the gentleman and insisted she keep the room while he moved to the one next door while she graciously demurred and just as graciously changed her mind when she thought he might change his. This bedroom was as close to a five-star hotel as she was ever going to get and she wasn't going to miss the chance to enjoy it while she could.

  She was paying for her subterfuge now. She tossed and turned and swore she could feel the heat of his body from where he had lain across the bed earlier. She kept playing the scene over and over in her mind and wondered if she had made a mistake in her refusal to play his game.

  She wanted him. There was no mistaking that, but she couldn't figure out where his intentions lay. One minute he seemed to want her as much a she wanted him, but the next he seemed indifferent. All evening he'd been polite but distant. Was that playing the gentleman, too? Was he waiting for a signal that she had changed her mind?

  If that was the case, he would have a long wait. Yes, she wanted him, but she wouldn't allow herself to be overwhelmed by that need. She refused to sell herself so cheaply to a man who was so obviously used to having his way in everything, including women.

  The 'charm' that Tilda spoke of was real. It called to her like the moon to the tides. Was it another form of his magic perhaps? She would have to ask Tilda tomorrow. In the meantime, sleep was impossible and she'd learned long ago that hard work was the cure for her occasional bouts of insomnia. There was a classroom waiting to be finished.

  She slipped into the clothing she'd worn before and tiptoed down the stairs, surprised to find the entrance hall lighted by a utility light hanging from the old coat tree to the right of the front door. The dark paneling of the foyer had been transformed with a coat of primer in readiness for a new coat of paint. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

  Charles was in her schoolroom, his back to her, rolling on the final coat of yellow paint.

  "I could use some help," he said without looking back.

  Kat nodded, even though he couldn't see her and picked up the roller she'd used that morning. It was wrapped tightly in plastic and her tray was clean and ready for a refill.

  "How long have you been down here?" she asked. As far as she knew he'd gone to bed when she did, right after Mrs. Martin and Buddy said good night.

  "Since five minutes after you went to bed. Did you miss me?" He still didn't look at her, but she could tell he was smiling.

  "Don't flatter yourself. I always have trouble sleeping in a new place." She busied herself applying the paint to the opposite side of the room.

  "You didn't seem to have any trouble sleeping last night," he laughed.

  That was when it hit her. Charles didn't arrive this morning as she had thought. He'd been here all along. It was the eyes, those beautiful, thick lashed green eyes that tilted upward ever so slightly at the outer corners.

  He was the Lord of his Domain. He was her Wolf King. He was the wolf at the pool and he had seen her naked as the day she was born. She advanced on him with roller raised.

  "You bastard! You pervert! It was you by the pool scaring me half to death."

  "You didn't seem too frightened to me." He raised his eyebrows and smiled with a definite wolfish leer. "In the pool, you seemed friendly and playful and… How should I say this?" He put his finger to his chin as if thinking and his eyes slid to her breasts. "Perky?"

  Furious, Kat shook the roller at him. "You had no right."

  "No right? In case you hadn't noticed, this is my house and it was supposed to be empty. I don't recall inviting you here." He eyed the roller in her hand a
nd set his down in the tray. "And how was I to know you'd be swimming naked in my pool."

  "You didn't have to stay in wolf form," she argued. "You could have… have… come home and showed up as a man."

  "Because a naked man walking across the patio would be so much more acceptable." Those green eyes danced with devilish mischief.

  The image of Charles, crossing the patio in all his naked glory sent a wave of heat down through her body beginning with her cheeks and ending at the juncture of her legs where her body gushed with pleasure, ready to meet and greet. Just when she was beginning to rethink the possibilities, he had to go and ruin it.

  "I thought you were the housekeeper," he said.

  "You're just digging this hole deeper and deeper. Another six inches and it will be deep enough to bury you." She threatened him with the roller again. "You think it's all right to coerce sex from an employee? Is that what it means to be an Alpha?"

  "That was the point," he said and took a step toward her. "You would have known I was the Alpha and it wasn't coercion. If you were one of us you would've known that, too. I asked. When you didn't run, I backed off. No one forced anyone to do anything." Charles took another step.

  Kat took a step back, but she still held her paint roller weapon ready. "You didn't ask anything and if you did I don't understand wolfish. One woof sounds the same as another. And what do you mean, I didn't run?"

  There was something she was missing here. He should at least give him the opportunity to explain, right? Her nether regions eagerly agreed.

  Charles smiled as if he'd scored a point and advanced another step. "We don't see sex the same way you do. A courting couple usually stays faithful, same as a mated pair, but most unattached adults see sex as a recreational activity."

  "You just dug your last six inches. That hole is six feet deep and ready for the headstone." The paint roller kept Kat from putting her fists on her hips.