Alphas of Summer: A collection of shifter romances

by Lia Davis

  Disappointment washed over Delia as three lovely young women strutted past the man and ambled down the steps into the heart of the bar.

  For nearly a full hour she’d been seated in this same spot, nursing the same drink and hardly moving at all. She didn’t tap her feet to the pounding beat of the music. She didn’t engage with even one of the several men who attempted to pick her up.

  She did not enjoy loud, raucous bars or men drenched in cheap cologne. Nor did she like the flashing strobe lights or idle chatter. A bar rat she was not.

  Prowling for men did not interest her. One-night stands with strangers she hoped never to see again were not her thing. Not anymore. Those days were long behind her.

  In fact relationships of any kind were not appealing. With the recent death of her father propelling her into the position of president of Montgomery Holdings, she had little time for anything other than maintaining her father’s legacy.

  Not to mention she learned the very hard way that men only wanted one of two things from her—money or a fuck. She wasn’t looking to part with either.

  Yet, here she sat in the hottest bar in New England. Waiting and contemplating, all the while praying she did not appear too intrigued and God-forbid, too eager. Being too willing always led to bad decisions and being taken advantage of. She was not accustomed to losing. She was not at all interested in anyone being able to say he’d bested her. Not again.

  Even if that meant she had to be uncomfortable for a period of time. She would win.

  Glancing around it wasn’t difficult to tell who wasn’t human. At least, it wasn’t difficult now that she knew Others existed.

  On his deathbed her father shared that tidbit of information. Another eye-opener to the real world. She blew out a breath. Why he hadn’t shared that with her earlier, she’d never know.

  All around her vampires, werewolves, and demons mingled with unaware humans. Several booths lining the far walls were packed with laughing groups. On the dance floor bodies jumped and swayed to the music.

  No one seemed to notice they took their lives in their hands by associating with this crowd. But Delia knew. She recognized every Other as being different.

  The Others all held a certain charisma that no human could maintain and most couldn’t resist. She resisted. Much to his surprise she’d refused him.

  He was tempting. Tall, handsome, smart. He was cunning and he didn’t quit. Delia wasn’t sure if that was the part she admired most or if seeing the wild animal deep within his eyes flare at her refusal to sell her land had given her a thrill.

  Was it the roughness of his handshake, the hard callouses pressed against her palm, or simply his imposing size?

  She smiled to herself at the memory of his surprise when she called him out. She’d heard the stories of the Others. She guessed him a wolf from the moment he strode into her office.

  The sheer power of his body. His immediate claim on any space he inhabited. An air about him so charged, so ready to strike he practically growled when he spoke.

  She called him out again today, and he hated it.

  “Not hiding it very well,” she’d said, knowing she was poking the wolf.

  “Not trying.” He leaned over her desk, knuckles pressed into the wood. “A wager.” He leaned close, leaving merely a few inches between them, and inhaled along the side of her face. “Give me one shot to convince you to sell. A little competition. Mano a mano. If I can’t change your mind, I won’t ask again.”

  The exhale of his breath against her hair sent a shiver through her body. Delia knew at that moment this would be a dangerous game.

  Sitting back to look up at him, she laughed. “You realize you have the upper hand in a hand-to-hand competition. What are you, six-four?”

  He grinned. “Six-six. But if you keep smiling at me like that, I won’t be able to think straight. You could come out on top.”

  “Fine. What will it be? Arm wrestling? A round in a boxing ring? Maybe a game of chess?” She extended her hand and smiled her most dazzling smile.

  His massive hand closed around hers, his smile never fading, and he shook his head. “Drinks. Tonight. Seductions. Eleven-thirty.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What? You said a hand-to-hand competition, not a date.” She released her grasp and tried to withdraw her hand.

  He pulled her to her feet and leaned over the desk. His lips brushed her ear. “I did, and it will be. We’ll see who’s got the better hand moves.” His nose trailed over her skin as he inhaled. “Mmm. Don’t be late.”

  Deep within, Delia felt him, his call as if he’d awakened some part of her that had been hibernating her entire life. The newly aroused little piece stretched, coming to life, and as she yanked her hand from Luke’s, it reached toward him, practically begging him not to let go.

  She knew her mind could resist anything. She knew her body had been trained well. It too, could hold its own. She just wasn’t so sure about her heart.

  Chapter 2

  It was only the lure of winning that had brought Delia to Seductions. That’s what she kept telling herself. The thrill of the game and the sweet taste of any victory. The adrenaline rush. That was it. Nothing else.

  She was not here to see exactly what Luke meant by “better hand moves.” The idea of feeling his hands along her skin, having him pull the pins from her hair or peel the clothes from her body had nothing to do with anything.

  Winning was her only plan.

  Besides, she shook on it. She couldn’t back out of the agreement. She was not a quitter. Neither was she a loser.

  “Here’s a fresh one.” A waitress appeared at her table. “Been working that one for quite a while.” The woman reached to remove the glass she’d delivered almost an hour ago.

  “I didn’t order another drink.” Delia kept a firm grip on the now warm and nearly empty glass. There was no way she’d allow herself to be weakened by too much alcohol.

  The waitress frowned, and a now familiar wave of energy pulsed around her.

  Werewolf, Delia thought. She gave off the same vibe as Luke. Heated and flowing. But she wasn’t as strong, not nearly as defined as he.

  It made sense the bar would employ Others. It seemed unlikely humans would be able to keep up with the pace of Seductions.

  “No, you didn’t.” The waitress pried Delia’s fingers from the glass. “He did.” She jerked her head to a booth across the bar. “And when my Alpha tells me to bring someone a drink, I bring the damn drink.”

  The waitress flashed a little too much tooth with her smile. “Enjoy.” She stomped off, mumbling something Delia didn’t care to hear.

  In fact, Delia forgot about the waitress the moment she saw him. Seated on the edge in the far corner booth, one long arm draped along the back of the seat, a leg sticking out from under the table, foot tapping to the music, he stared at Delia.

  Those deep dark eyes held a glow to them, something primal and animalistic. From across the darkened bar his eyes lit the way a wolf’s do when a light shines at them in the night.

  He gave a slight smile and raised his drink then nodded for her to come to him.

  Delia’s back went stiff. She had no intention of moving. Having driven the length of the state she’d come far enough. Luke could take the steps required for him to come to her. She lifted her chin but didn’t move.

  His smile broadened, and he vanished into the booth.

  “If I were you, I’d go over there,” the waitress said as she passed. “It’s not wise to make him wait.” She plopped down three bottles of beer on the next table.

  Irritation burned in Delia’s chest. She had waited an hour for him. Of course, that had been so she could get the lay of the land. The plan had been to already be in place so that he would come to her, and she’d have some leverage.

  Yet, somehow he managed to slip into a booth unnoticed. Now he thought to have the upper hand. She scooted back in her seat and waited. She was not moving.

  Several minutes
passed without another sighting of Luke. The waitress went back and forth to his table a time or two. Finally she delivered a single-worded note to Delia.

  Forfeiting?

  She clicked her finger on the tabletop.

  “You have to go over there, unless you’re looking to send a note back.” The waitress placed her tray on the table and adjusted her ponytail. “If I were you, I’d go. You look tired as hell. You’ve been here for more than an hour, and trust me when I tell you you’re not going to get a better offer than Luke. Either shit or get off the pot.”

  Delia debated telling the waitress to go screw herself but decided against it. She knew her eyes were bloodshot, and apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d been monitoring the time she’d spent in this damn bar.

  Annoyed and knowing well enough he’d see this as a victory, Delia stood from her seat, grabbed her handbag, and strode across the dance floor, sidestepping everyone lost in a haze of after hours fun.

  When she reached the booth, Luke slid out to greet her. Still wearing the suit from that morning, though the collar was now unbuttoned and the red silk tie gone, he sported a dark shadow of a beard. Amusement lit his eyes.

  “So glad to see you, Delia.” He opened his hand, waving toward the booth. “Won’t you join me?”

  The black leather seat curved around the circular table, coming up high in the back to end where a wooden panel began and formed a domed enclosure. At the end of each side of the booth red velvet curtains were held back with silver sashes. On the center of the small table sat a single candle enclosed in a metal holder atop a star-shaped mirror.

  Delia wondered about the conversations that occurred in the private little alcove.

  Luke stepped aside. “Please?”

  She sighed and rather than slide in on his side, she took the opportunity to put some space between them. “Fine.” She sat at the end of the seat opposite him.

  “Francesca, another round,” Luke said to the waitress passing by.

  “Nothing for me,” Delia called.

  Luke smiled and slid into the booth, positioning himself midway into the soft leather. “Come closer so we can talk.”

  “We’re close enough.” She placed her handbag on the seat between them.

  There was far too little space separating them already. All day long she wondered what he’d look like out of that suit, without his shirt and stripped down to his bare skin. Now with only a couple feet between them she was far too tempted.

  The waitress appeared with two more bourbons.

  “Neat.” She placed the glass before Delia. “Rocks.” She placed the other in front of Luke. “Can I take your jackets?”

  Luke shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to the waitress. “Thanks, Cesca.”

  “Miss?” the waitress asked.

  Delia shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.” She stepped back, released the sashes and tugged the curtains closed.

  Upon the closure of the velvet drapes the intensity of the man with her flared, clearly heating the booth by a few degrees, and she turned quickly to glance at him. He reached for his drink. “Cheers.”

  His scent swirled around and over her. It was intoxicating. Delia could hardly think to describe it. Warm chocolate-chip cookies and a strong cup of coffee and something wild and free like the wind on a stormy night.

  Luke was electrifying, and Delia thought for sure he was also addicting. Worse than any drug she could consider. No, she would not fall into this trap with him.

  Delia pushed the drink away. “I said I didn’t want another drink.”

  “You agreed to have drinks with me tonight. Are you backing out?” He sat back, glancing up at the ceiling of their private enclosure. “This is a pretty cool effect, don’t you think?”

  “I did not agree—”

  “But you did. We shook on it, and if you don’t have drinks with me, I get to have the land I’ve been trying to buy from you for the past eighteen months.” He continued to gaze upward. “If I’d known it would be this easy, I’d have invited you for drinks much sooner.”

  He pointed to the ceiling. “That’s the pattern I enjoy the most. It’s why I picked this booth.”

  Delia finally looked up. Above them incandescent stars lit the deep blue ceiling, sparkling from the candlelight. The effect was breathtaking. The shape of the booth made it appear they were looking out into the real sky.

  If Delia had been the type, she’d have described it as romantic. But this was a business meeting. Not a date. She reached for the bourbon, taking a much larger sip than she had from the first one.

  Luke chuckled. “I thought you might savor it more. You nursed that other one like it was the last bourbon you’d ever taste. This is far more expensive.”

  “I can buy my own drink.”

  “I invited you. You accepted. I get to buy the drinks.” He dragged the S out in a long hiss. “Plural. You agreed to drinks.”

  “I meant we’d each have one. Not that I’d have multiples.” She took another large sip.

  “I meant there would be multiples, and since it was my call, we’ll have more than one.” He sipped his drink in a lazy, lingering way.

  Delia watched him press the glass to his lips. His tongue played with an ice cube. He held the liquor in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. Then his tongue glided over his lips, leaving them slick.

  His gaze never ventured from her face.

  Delia knew he watched her like she was a deer and he a hunter looking for a meal. Her body responded to the thrill. She loved the chase. She’d forgotten how much she liked the hunt, how much she loved being wanted.

  Chapter 3

  “Is this you relaxed?” Luke asked.

  “As relaxed as one can be when working,” she said, doing her best to ensure they both remembered this was a business meeting and nothing more.

  Over the past few years Delia had attended many business meetings with many different men over drinks, dinner, in boardrooms. But never had she been in a secluded alcove with a man whose very presence made her libido respond.

  She’d never had an encounter with a man that made her body argue with her mind.

  Luke slouched a bit in the booth and glanced back up at the stars dancing above them. He held his bourbon, resting it against his thigh. His other hand lay on the seat beside him.

  He was the picture of relaxation. Sleeves cuffed. Slow smooth breaths. Half closed eyes and an easy smile.

  The top three buttons of his collar were open, giving Delia a peak at his chest where a bit of dark curls showed above tanned skin.

  “There’s nothing nicer than a night sky. Don’t you think?” He sighed.

  Delia glanced upward. The effects on the ceiling above them were nice, but it was a ceiling and not the real sky. “I suppose.”

  He chuckled and looked at her. “What do you do for fun, Delia?”

  Fun? “What does fun have to do with my land? Let’s just cut to the—”

  “It’s not polite to answer a question with a question. Frankly, it’s bad form. I’m surprised Drummond didn’t teach you better.” He tipped his glass at her. “If there was a way to confirm it, I’d bet if your father saw you so intense, showing every bit of your discomfort with me, he’d have your tail.” Without taking his attention from her face he sipped his bourbon. The liquid slid down his throat, and Delia watched his Adam’s apple move.

  She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and then forced it out the same way. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more—that Luke spoke of her father on a first name basis, that he knew she was uncomfortable, or that he was right. If her father saw her like this, he would have her tail. He’d have railed at her for hours about how a shrewd businesswoman kept her wits about her at all times.

  She sat back, making a valiant effort to relax or at the very least to appear relaxed.

  Luke laughed.

  “You’re not helping yoursel
f.” She turned sideways, folding one leg onto the seat. “Laughing at me will never make you a winner.” She took another swallow of the bourbon. “Tonight you will not win my land.”

  His casual posture belied his true purpose, but Delia knew what he was up to. She knew the whole charade was a calculated plan.

  From the moment her father introduced them she knew immediately Luke was as crafty and astute as he was handsome. Drummond had warned her right at that first meeting to never let her guard down around Luke. Of course, the arrogant bastard laughed, though he didn’t argue.

  Not that she’d needed the warning. Every internal alert she had screamed danger when she saw him. Sexy danger.

  Her body was at war with itself. Every bit of common sense told her to stay the hell away from him. Every other molecule bounced and jittered, wanting nothing more than to have him. His lips. His hands. His cock.

  Three weeks ago they’d been on the same worksite checking out a job when the heel of her shoe caught in some wire. Luke placed his hand on her forearm to steady her. The feel of his rough hand over her soft skin had been a constant thought since that moment.

  Would everything about him be as rough, yet so caring?

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “What question?” She sucked the flavor of bourbon off her tongue, trying to keep from gritting her teeth.

  “Fun. What do you do for fun?” His brown eyes darkened, and even in the dimly lit space Delia saw the wolf within him prowl.

  She didn’t know enough about wolves in general to understand if they ever played or if the prowl was a constant precursor to the hunt. She certainly had no concept of werewolves.

  It wasn’t as though an internet search ever brought up facts about them. According to the hundreds of pages listing interesting tidbits, it was all lore.

  Something about the danger just beneath the surface of Luke’s skin spiked a curiosity in her she hadn’t felt in a very long time. So long, in fact, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be interested in a man.