by Terry Spear
After breakfast, Blake drove Nicole and Roxie to the clinic to see Rhys. All three men were doing well, but Nicole and Roxie only intended to speak to Rhys. CJ was the deputy sheriff posted to secure the room. “Morning,” he said to them.
“Has everything been quiet?” Nicole asked.
“Yeah. We’re all glad the search for Rhys is over.”
“I’ll say.” Nicole was thrilled she could start working on their house and wedding plans and take off from work for a while.
When they entered Rhys’s room, Nicole smiled at him. Rhys was sitting up and watching TV.
“I guess you’ve been read your rights.” Nicole told him who she was, then motioned to Roxie. “You tried to force her to give up her coin collection when you were both stationed at Fort Meade. Well, you went to her apartment off-post and tried.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rhys looked so smug.
“You’re lucky I saved your paltry life after you were buried in the avalanche,” Roxie said. “But yeah, I recognized you as the MP who pulled me over earlier in the day for an expired sticker while we were on active duty.”
Rhys’s jaw dropped, but he didn’t comment.
“I identified it was you,” Nicole said, not about to say how she and Roxie could identify him.
“But you didn’t charge me,” Rhys said, so cocky.
“Nope. I’ve got you this time though.” Nicole smiled. “Nice run on being dead…for a while. Good luck with your life.”
She glanced at Roxie to see if she wanted to add anything.
“Asshole.” Then Roxie left the room.
That about summed him up.
“You’re just lucky you didn’t pull that crap with my sister when I was there, or you would have been a dead man,” Blake said.
This time, Rhys looked a little pale. Blake took Nicole’s hand, and they left the clinic with Roxie.
“Do you feel better?” Blake asked his sister.
“I do. I finally had my say to the bastard.”
“Yeah, I felt the same way,” Nicole said.
“I’m glad you ladies had your say.”
Nicole squeezed his hand. “I think you also were glad too.”
He kissed her before they got into his Jeep. “Yeah, I needed to do that.”
Then they saw the federal marshals arrive and Nicole smiled. “Round ’em up, boys, and head ’em out.”
Nicole couldn’t be any gladder for the way the story ended with the bad guys being sent to lockup to be tried for their crimes and Roxie finding resolution in Rhys’s arrest, even if it wasn’t for the time he’d attempted to rob her. Nicole hadn’t expected Blake would need it too, so she was glad he had some resolution. She imagined Landon and Kayla might have felt the same way, but they probably were just as glad that Rhys was going to stand trial.
More than anything, chasing after Rhys had brought Nicole to the Wolffs’ doorstep and a whole new way of life. She couldn’t be any happier than that.
* * *
If anyone had told Blake that his sister’s armed robber suspect would be caught by the same CID investigator who had tried to find him guilty before and that he’d fall in love with her, he would never have believed it. He loved that Roxie, Kayla, and Nicole had become best of friends. He was also glad Landon hadn’t taken too much of an interest in the she-wolf. His brother had probably figured it was a lost cause once he’d seen the two of them kissing in the lobby as if they were already mated wolves. And Nate was just like a brother to them.
Blake had enjoyed all the sleuthing he’d had to do with Nicole in the meantime, though most of that was because he just wanted an excuse to be with her—enjoying the time with her while she did her surveillance. The PI Clay might have been an annoying pest, but his arrival sure had worked in Blake’s favor to move the courtship with Nicole along.
Now, as Nicole and Roxie talked about wedding plans while he drove them back to the lodge, he knew all the stars had aligned when he and his siblings had set up the lodge at the Silver Town Ski Resort and Nicole’s prey had booked the ski vacation that would be their downfall. And afforded Blake the opportunity to meet Nicole. He also wanted to thank their maintenance man who’d been too sick to blow the snow off the sidewalks that morning. Rosco got brownie points too for leading him on a wild rabbit chase and helping to entertain Nicole. Of course, he had to thank her PI partner, Larry, for getting high-altitude sickness. Most of all, he thanked his lucky stars it had all worked out and he was mated to Nicole. He smiled at her. “I love you.”
She laughed. “Good thing too. You’re not getting rid of me. I love you too.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand, knowing what they were doing when they got back to the resort—slipping away to the suite at the house for some wolfish moves while everyone was at the lodge working and couldn’t hear their love play.
Yeah, he was one lucky wolf.
Epilogue
“Ohmigod,” Nicole said as she looked out at the balcony view of the beach in Costa Rica, the sun setting and the warm oranges and yellows and cooler pinks and purples turning the water into sunset colors too. “This is beautiful.” She was wearing her sparkly aqua one-piece bathing suit as Blake joined her on the balcony with margaritas in hand.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling his mouth against her neck.
“Hmm, so are you,” she said, knowing he meant she was beautiful, not just the gorgeous scene before them.
She’d been so wrapped up in the wedding, visiting with her mom and dad before they returned to Denver to sell the business and their home, not to mention building her and Blake’s own house and buying her new car, that she hadn’t realized Blake had scheduled the Costa Rican trip for them right after the wedding. She thought they were going to wait until the house was finally built. But he only wanted to wait until the wedding was done. This was unbelievably wonderful. They still had snow in Colorado. But here? All sunshine and warmth.
With eleven acres of rain forest surrounding them and white-sugar sand beaches, private use only for the inn guests, she was thrilled. Not only that, but the inn only had thirty-eight rooms, so it wasn’t some high-rise tower filled with five hundred guests where everyone was vying for a spot of beach or running into each other in the rain forest. Nicole and Blake would make the most of the rain forest at night when the guests stayed in their rooms or enjoyed their balconies. She and Blake would run wild.
Tomorrow, they would go zip-lining, and they had a boating excursion. Snorkeling. Swimming. And tonight, well, margaritas first, then…
Blake kissed her again, then set the drinks on the table.
Well, she’d thought they were going to run as wolves as soon as the sun set, but it looked like Blake had other ideas in mind. That was the fun of being in paradise. No real schedules they couldn’t break. It was just all sexy fun.
Loving her wolf, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him. “Our chilled margaritas are going to get warm.”
She thought the world of him for wanting to make the experience special by creating the fun mixed drinks and even more so that she distracted him from drinking them when he saw her in her bathing suit. He was the only wolf for her.
* * *
“Always on a mission,” Blake said. “I fixed the drinks, then saw you and the sunset, and a hot case of lust came over me.” He rubbed against her body, his crotch already aching for release.
She laughed, sweet and sexy. “Bottoms up.” She got their drinks, and they drank several swigs, and then he carried her back into the bedroom.
This was one of the great things about the tropics. They had a lot fewer clothes to remove. She had hold of his board shorts, pulling them down his legs before he could say a word. And then he was slipping the straps of her bathing suit off her shoulders and pulling the swimsuit top down to reveal h
er creamy breasts. This might be paradise, but with her, even more so. He pulled her swimsuit off her the rest of the way.
They collapsed on the bed, kissing and loving each other as mated wolves, not believing they were in a rain forest in another part of the world getting ready for what came next. More wolf loving.
After such a disastrous morning at the lodge that day, Blake couldn’t believe the she-wolf of his dreams had fallen for him. He couldn’t be more thrilled the way things worked out. He wouldn’t have done the day over any other way, not when it culminated in this—a beautiful sunset on the beach, his mate half-naked wearing her bathing suit, and him eager to show her just how much he loved her.
He was one lucky wolf.
If you love Terry Spear’s wolf shifters, you won’t want to miss Kait Ballenger’s Seven Range Shifters.
Deep in the mountains, there’s danger at every turn. The Grey Wolf clan will do whatever it takes to protect their ranch, and their mates.
Keep reading for an excerpt from this thrilling new series!
Available now from Sourcebooks Casablanca
Chapter 1
The ranch was crawling with Grey Wolves.
The Rogue lingered on the outskirts of the forest, watching the activity in the distance as he leaned against the trunk of a mountain pine. He surveyed the vast ranchlands before him as he tipped his Stetson lower, adding an extra layer of shadow to his face. The old cowboy hat was only a precaution. He knew none of the pack wolves would recognize him. Aside from his scars, it was one of the key advantages to having the identity of a ghost, and a good thing too…
…since he didn’t trust anyone else to deliver the target.
He shot a glance over his shoulder toward Bee. The brown mustang gave an angry flick of his tail, the black hair smacking against the pine where he was tied. Bee wasn’t mighty pleased with this arrangement.
That made two of them.
“Behave,” Rogue warned the horse. “It won’t be long.”
He strode onto the ranch, ignoring Bee’s frustrated huffs. It was easy enough to blend in among the Grey Wolf cowboys. With the Seven Range Shifter clans all meeting at Wolf Pack Run today, there was a plethora of unfamiliar shifters on the ranch. None of the guards so much as raised their heads at him. Not that a rogue werewolf would be their top safety priority. Their focus would be protecting the Pact from vampires—a heightened level of security that would be forgotten once the Pact members left the ranch this evening.
That would be their mistake.
It only took him a handful of minutes to locate his target. An entrance to the kitchens connected to the private conference room where the Pact members were meeting. Rogue was patient, slowly making his way inside, slipping among the shadows. Once near the room, he watched a server enter, allowing him a quick glance inside.
Immediately, he spotted her. He couldn’t have missed her if he’d tried. Not with the way his heart was pounding.
Standing in the conference room next to her beast of a brother, talking with animated movements as she pointed toward a massive chart behind her, she was breathtaking. Everything he remembered and more.
He shook his head. The pain in his chest was all the reminder he needed. She wasn’t his, and she never would be. She’d stopped being a possibility for him long ago.
He watched her, patiently lingering in the shadows of the kitchen as he formulated a plan. She wouldn’t recognize him, though his heart knew her better than the back of his own hand. He would have known those gorgeous green eyes anywhere. The ache in his chest grew.
It’s better this way, he told himself.
He’d repeat those words until he was convinced they were true.
He didn’t care what it took, or how it hurt him. Her life and the lives of so many others depended on his sacrifice. It didn’t matter that she didn’t recognize him or that he died a little more inside whenever he looked at her. He would keep his promise to her, to his family. No matter the personal consequences.
And come hell or high water, Rogue would survive losing Maeve Grey again…
* * *
“Mae, Alexander is headed this way again.” Maverick’s voice held more than a hint of disapproval. He’d hated her “little backup plan” from the start. Her brother loved her, and as such, he’d always been fiercely protective of her, but packmaster or not, this was her choice to make, and she’d do whatever it took to save her pack.
Maeve finished scribbling on her napkin as she ignored her brother’s protests. The quick sketch had been a necessary release of tension. The image of a running horse was more cartoonish than her normal work, but it’d been enough to ease her anxiety for now. It was better than ripping her hair out. She’d been trapped at the Seven Range Pact’s annual reception listening to Maverick negotiate for nearly two hours now, yet still none of the other packmasters had made a firm commitment, and with every passing second, the vampires drew closer to destroying everything she cared for.
And all while she was forced to wear a pair of heels. Her cowgirl boots would have been infinitely more comfortable, but beauty knew no pain when it came to saving her pack, so she’d make do. She’d feared the other packmasters would be wary despite Maverick’s best laid proposals, and she wasn’t about to waste a perfectly good cocktail dress.
Every summer, the seven shifter clans that ruled over Big Sky Country and formed the Seven Range Pact met at an annual reception held at Wolf Pack Run, a formal soiree complete with suits, ties, and dress Stetsons. This year’s occasion was the largest and most extravagant yet. Though typically the annual reception was only held during peacetime and was only attended by the varying shifters of the Seven Range Pact, this year, despite the heightened security concerns, Maverick had made an exception and sent invitations welcoming their usual guests along with several additional Canadian shifter clans. Extenuating circumstances, as he called them.
Mae shook her head. She’d worried this plan wouldn’t pan out, but Maverick had been insistent, and while she might have formulated her own backup plans, she trusted implicitly that he’d do whatever it took to steer the pack on the correct course. He always had.
In a normal year, the official purpose of the reception was to build camaraderie among the various packs despite their differences in species. As one of the last living members of the Grey family, one of three founding families of the Grey Wolf Pack, Mae had a personal obligation to represent the pack with grace and poise—and no one was more aware of that obligation than she was. But it was the unspoken reason for this year’s soiree that had made her concoct her backup plan.
Mae couldn’t allow her lifeblood to be the downfall of her pack.
“Mae,” Maverick grumbled again. This time, with even more urgency. “Don’t offer yourself up like a lamb for slaughter.”
“It’s my choice.” She shot her older brother an annoyed glare. “It’s my blood they used.”
She was tired of Maverick’s protesting. On more than one occasion, he’d urged her to marry a pure-blooded alpha wolf, for tradition and all that, but to hear her brother tell it, he only wanted the best for her, and there was no way in hell he’d offer her up like this. She rolled her eyes. She failed to see how her plan was much different. At least seducing Alexander to save her pack was her decision.
Mae set down her pen, forcing a smile as her eyes traveled across the table and landed on the alpha wolf headed toward them. Alexander Caron was a massive, muscled wall of a Canadian packmaster from a few hours north of Wolf Pack Run, and the man who could save them all, according to her brother.
A month earlier, the Grey Wolves had discovered the vampires’ plans to develop an injectable serum that would allow them to feed from shifters, and the purer the blood, the better. Feeding from humans was mere sustenance, but feeding from shifters would increase a vampire’s power tenfold. The development would soon change the outcom
e of the war between the shifters and the vampires unless Mae’s kind found a way to combat it. All their enemy had needed to complete their plan was a blood sample from a pure-blooded Grey Wolf…and they’d taken that sample from Mae.
It was only a matter of time before the serum was in wide use, and then her kind would no longer stand a chance against the bloodsuckers.
Alexander had an army full of alpha warriors that would give the Grey Wolves a fighting chance against the vampires, with or without the serum.
If only she could convince him of that…
Alexander joined them at their table and extended a hand toward her. “Care to dance again?” he prompted, casting her a smile. His teeth were beautifully white and his beard perfectly trimmed. He was the ideal image of a handsome cowboy.
Most she-wolves would find the powerful alpha wolf handsome, assuming a woman was into the whole clean-cut male thing, but Mae couldn’t have been less attracted to this wolf if she tried. She supposed if she had to put her finger on it, it was because she preferred her men a little more on the rough and rugged side, much like the Grey Wolf cowboys—not that any of them ever gave her so much as a second glance, considering her brother was their packmaster. But even that reasoning failed to fully explain her lack of interest.
Still, she’d intended to charm Alexander for the sake of the pack, because they needed this alliance, and thus far, all her brother’s efforts had been in vain. Not to mention, her role could pay off twofold. Pack expectation dictated she marry an alpha wolf of pure bloodline if she ever planned to settle down, and considering she didn’t want any of the alphas at Wolf Pack Run, Alexander was one of her few remaining options. The pack elders hadn’t started to nag her yet, but it wouldn’t be long, and the way she saw it, maybe if she faked an attraction to Alexander, eventually she would come to care for him.
Maverick had suggested that if she planned to seduce a packmaster in the name of making alliances, he might as well pull out the hot iron, burn a brand on her ass, and send her off to market like all the other cattle on the ranch.
