by Jaci Burton
But tonight was a cocktail party that had many functions. And tonight they'd meet with the cream of the crop of New Orleans' society and business. She had to be there.
And so did Max.
Damn. She wondered if she had another dress to wear besides the one Kaitlyn had dubbed as "hot". The last thing she needed tonight was "hot".
Time to bring a fall chill to the air.
*
Max patiently waited while the elevator took him to the top floor. When he stepped out, he grinned at the name emblazoned over the entry door. The Lune de l'amour Restaurant. Moon of love. How fitting. Max opened the door and stepped inside, immediately directed to a private room where a small crowd had already gathered.
Now this place had romance. From the elegant table settings, to the artwork, potted palms and floor to ceiling arched windows, Lune de l'amour spoke of elegance and everything that was sensual. Soft lighting cast the room in an amber glow, and live music played in the background. Subtle, but enough to spark his senses and make him wish he and Shannon were going to be here alone tonight.
Ah well, he'd have his chance.
Logan and Aidan were already there, dressed in tuxes, too. They motioned him over and handed him a glass of champagne.
"I hate these kinds of events," Logan mumbled, adjusting his bow-tie. "An evil necessity, but I don't have to like them."
Aidan shrugged. "I just show up, smile, and talk my head off to anyone who will listen."
Logan rolled his eyes. "You're in marketing. That's what you do. At least you have a gorgeous woman on your arm to distract you," he added, inclining his head toward the other end of the room.
Max's eyes widened at Melissa's short, red cocktail dress. Couldn't be described as too much, yet it hugged her curves nicely. Max looked to Aidan and said, "You're a very lucky man."
Aidan grinned and winked at his fiancee. "Don't I know it." Turning to Logan, he said, "If you're lonely for a woman, I could let Mom know when she and Dad show up tonight. I'm sure she'd have a girl for you before the end of the night."
Logan groaned. "I don't need that kind of help. I can get my own woman, thanks."
"Yeah, we all know what kind of women you choose. For someone who takes risks in business, you sure play it safe with women, Logan."
Logan shot a glare at Aidan. "You know why. Let's not talk about this."
Max felt the undercurrents of tension between Aidan and Logan. Logan was holding back...in many areas, the most prominent being the magical powers he possessed. But why? Why wouldn't he embrace them?
"Hey you guys. If you were going to start matchmaking, you should have called me over sooner."
Max turned and smiled at Kaitlyn, looking gorgeous in a long blue dress that showed off voluptuous curves. "Evening. You look beautiful."
She grinned. "Thanks. And busy, too. So what are we talking about?"
"Finding a wife for Logan," Aidan replied.
"Asshole," Logan muttered.
Kaitlyn's eyes widened and a grin curved her generous lips upward. "Oooh now there's a subject I like! If only we could figure out what type of woman Logan liked, then maybe we could find him one."
"I don't like any type of woman."
Kaitlyn arched a brow, and Logan rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant, dammit! I'm too busy right now."
"Famous last words. You're lucky I'm busy with this event tonight, or I'd be finding suitable female company for you."
"Then thank God you're busy."
Kaitlyn giggled, kissed Logan on the cheek and waved as she scurried off. She gave off energy vibes like nothing Max had ever experienced. The woman was a dynamo. And yet he sensed underneath that busy exterior lurked a very patient, very warm woman who just needed a man to help settle her down.
Great. Now he was matchmaking! Turning his attention back to Logan, he said, "I take it your mother and sisters want you to find a mate."
"It's a never ending parade of contestants," Logan said with a sigh.
"You are getting up there in years." Aidan stabbed Logan's ribs with his elbow.
Ignoring Aidan, Logan grabbed another glass of champagne and downed it in one gulp. Then he turned to Max. "Shannon called me late this afternoon. Said your ideas for national and international exposure are phenomenal."
Max was surprised she'd even mention it, as opposed as she'd been to his ideas a few days ago. "Thanks. Her statewide blitz was damned impressive. She's very good."
"That's why we keep her around," Aidan said with a lopsided grin.
"Holy hell."
Max turned to Logan, who had paled considerably after uttering that oath. He followed Logan's gaze, and his jaw dropped.
Shannon had walked in, wearing what could only be described as a dress that fit her like it was part of her skin. Black, snug, short, with high heels that showed off her long, slender legs. The bottom of the dress skimmed her thighs, flaring out in swirls of near invisible black fabric around the edges. And the top of the damn dress squeezed her breasts together. Max held his breath, expecting them to spill out the top of the dress at any moment.
Thoughts of getting her out of that dress remained prominent on his mind. Hell with getting her out of it. He wanted to lift it up, bend her over the nearest table and fuck her until his driving need for her was satiated.
Her brothers would probably frown on that idea, though.
"Our little sister has certainly grown up," Aidan said.
"No shit. A little too grown up if you ask me."
She spotted them and walked over, her hips swaying gently in a subtly sexy way that had Max wishing he'd worn a longer coat. His cock twitched, coming to life as it sensed her approach. Visions of licking between her breasts had him nearly drooling in anticipation.
Tonight. It had to be tonight. He couldn't wait any longer to mate with her, to make her his.
Smiling at Aidan and Logan, she ignored Max completely. "I see you started the party without me."
"Did you forget something?" Logan asked, glaring at her like a disapproving father.
"No, I don't think so. What did I forget?"
"The other half of your dress," Aidan added before Logan could say the words.
Her cheeks pinkened, but she lifted her chin. "There's nothing wrong with my dress. I'm decent."
"Barely," Aidan mumbled.
"You prance around in that damn napkin-for-a-dress all night, and you're going to end up as the dessert on some dickhead's plate," Logan said with a frown.
Max fought back a grin as he thought of himself as the intended "dickhead". The Storms were a protective pack. He liked that. He had a little sister, too. He knew what they were feeling, because Chantal had grown up way too fast, at least in his eyes. A tiger of a lawyer who'd breezed through college and law school years before others her age, she frequently worked among the ravaging beasts of industry. And he'd never liked the way some of those men leered at her. Fortunately she was good at fending them off. Too good, according to their mother, who wanted her only daughter married off to the "right man".
To him, Chantal would always be a little girl. Even if she was in her mid-twenties now.
Then again, he was leering at Shannon, and his intentions toward her certainly weren't honorable. Talk about wearing two faces. He was quickly becoming the master at it. If Logan and Aidan knew what he was planning to do with their sister, he had a feeling he'd be on the ugly end of a beating.
Shannon put her hands on her hips and glared at Logan. "It is not a napkin. Trust me, everything important is covered."
"Not nearly enough," Aidan added.
"Leave the poor girl alone. She looks fantastic."
"Thanks, Lissa," Shannon said, turning to Melissa and hugging her. When she looked back at the men, her lips turned up in a pout that had Max thinking of blow jobs. Probably wasn't her intent at all.
Melissa sidled up to Aidan and planted a kiss on his lips. "Can I drag you away?"
Aidan wagged his brows. "To some
dark corner for a quickie, hopefully?"
Melissa rolled her eyes. "Don Boudreaux of the Chamber wants to speak with you."
"I prefer the dark corner, but okay. Later," he said over his shoulder as he walked away with Melissa.
"And I see someone I need to talk to. Excuse me," Logan said, leaving Max standing alone with Shannon, and utterly unable to breathe. He tried a deep inhale, but only succeeded in picking up her subtle scent. The woman was going to drive him insane if he didn't have her soon.
Her eyes told him that she wanted the same thing. And yet a wariness shadowed her face. That and the cool breeze around them warned him that this wasn't going to be easy.
"You take my breath away, Shannon," he said.
Her cheeks colored a deep pink. "Thank you. You look amazing in a tux," she said, then sucked in her lower lip as if she regretted giving the compliment.
"And you look good enough to eat."
She arched a brow. "Said the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood."
She had no idea how close she'd come to being completely accurate. "Do I look like the big bad wolf?"
Her eyes widened. "Um, no. Not at all. Shall we mingle?"
"How about we dance instead?"
"I don't think so."
He felt the chill in the air, figured it was her magic. She was purposely trying to evade him, but why? Maybe he was getting too close? Or perhaps he was getting under her skin, making her feel off balance.
Good. He liked her that way. Easier to pounce. "Afraid of the big bad wolf, are you?"
"I'm not afraid of anything. We're here for business, Max, not personal pleasure."
"So, you're indicating you could receive personal pleasure from me?"
She huffed out a sigh. "No, that's not what I meant and you know it. Now do you mind? There are a lot of people I want to talk to tonight. Influential people. People who will spread the word about The Rising Storm casino."
"In other words, you don't trust yourself in my arms. You're afraid of me."
Her eyes narrowed, shooting icy daggers at him. Perfect. Why he enjoyed tormenting her, he didn't know. Probably because she provided such a passionate reaction to his teasing. If she didn't care about him, she wouldn't react like she did.
"I'm not the least bit afraid of you."
"Prove it. Dance with me."
"This is ridiculous."
"Coward."
"That's it." She marched onto the makeshift dance floor, then turned and held out her hands. "Okay, Fred Astaire. Show me what you've got."
He intended to.
Chapter Five
Did Max have to look so breathtakingly handsome in a tux? Shannon kept as much distance between the two of them as possible, hoping to at least manage to appear cool and calm, though she was anything but.
Damn, he smelled good. And the tux molded itself to his body like it had been sewn on. She found it difficult to resist running her hand over his shoulder, feeling his muscles bunch tight and hard underneath the jacket.
He looked dark, dangerous, like a secret agent.
Or a man with a secret. Something about Max signaled warning bells in her head, but she couldn't put a finger on it.
"I don't have leprosy," he said with a teasing smile, then yanked her flush against him. Her bare thigh brushed his leg.
She swallowed, then looked around, hoping for something or someone to rescue her. Not that he appeared to be willing to let her go. She felt imprisoned, as if she couldn't pull away if she wanted to.
The really bad thing was, she didn't want to.
He shifted, pulling her even closer, if that was possible. "Would you relax? I don't bite."
Ha. That remained to be seen. Or not seen. No. Bad mind, bad. Don't go there.
"Unless you want me to. Do you like a little nibble, say, on the neck or shoulder?"
Her gaze flew to his. Tiny wrinkles crinkled at the corners of his eyes when he flashed that gleaming grin.
"Yes, I see it in your eyes, Shannon. Makes me really curious as to other things you might like."
If she could find her voice, she'd tell him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't the least bit interested in his bites, or anything else he might have in mind. She'd be lying, of course. Visuals entered her mind--being entwined with him and having him sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder as he rode her hard and deep.
Max inhaled, his eyes drifting closed for a brief second. When he opened them again, the grin had left his face. "I want to make love to you, Shannon. Tonight."
Desire coiled deep in her belly and moved south quickly. Her nipples tightened, her breasts swelling against the material of her dress. Thankfully, he couldn't see.
And how was she supposed to respond? Her mind screamed no fucking way, but her body shrieked Yes! Yes! Oh, hell yes! "That's not a good idea."
"Fuck 'good idea'. I want you."
Had someone turned the air conditioning off? It was blistering hot. Droplets of perspiration settled between her breasts. Her panties dampened. Had to be the heat.
She had to get her traitorous body under control and quickly. They were in the middle of a cocktail party with hundreds of people around them.
And her legs were trembling.
"Max, let go of me. This isn't going to happen between us. Not tonight, not ever."
"I say it will happen. And it will happen tonight."
His response gave her exactly what she needed. A little righteous indignation to cool her libido. "You're so smug, aren't you? Do you always think you can have whatever you want?"
There was that devastating smile again. "Do you?"
"I control my own destiny, Max. No one tells me what I will or won't do."
"Maybe before you met me. I know you like to be in control, Shannon. I'll bet you even have to tell your men what pleases you in the bedroom. You like to call the shots, tell them when and where."
"Exactly."
"But I'll bet deep down inside, you're hoping that somewhere out there is a man who'll take that control away from you, who'll tell you what to do and when. And who instinctively knows just what you need without having to ask you for directions how to get there. You're begging for it. And I'm going to give it to you, exactly the way you want it, and exactly the way I want it."
No! His egotistical suggestions didn't excite her in the least. In fact, she was just about ready to haul off and slap him one.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Saved by the bell. Or in this case, her mother. Who was, as usual, beautifully attired in a long, golden dress that caught the light and dazzled like sparkling champagne. She kissed her mother on the cheek. "Hi Mom. You look stunning. When did you get here?"
Her mother grinned. "Merci, ma belle. You look beautiful, too. We slipped in about five minutes ago. Your father and I have been watching you dance with this handsome man here. Care to introduce us?"
Shannon stepped back and hugged her father, grateful for their timely interruption. "Max Devlin, this is my mother, Angelina and my father, Galen."
Not the least bit wary, Max enthusiastically shook her father's hand, then kissed her mother on both cheeks. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Your daughter has me so spellbound I didn't notice you standing there. My apologies."
Max sized up Galen immediately. An exchange of something elemental and slightly magical occurred between them, a spark that he felt like a warm air current sizzling through him. An awareness, almost like a meeting between two alphas of opposing packs. He'd seen it before, felt it before. Respected it. Galen Storm was not someone to mess with. Max had sensed the same thing when he first met Logan and Aidan. Without words, he communicated his intent to Galen, showing his respect by stepping away from Shannon, acknowledging that his child didn't belong to Max. Yet.
Galen nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Max. I've heard very good things about you from Melissa."
"Thank you, sir. I'm honored to be working on The Rising Storm's public relations campaign."
"Okay, before you two get involved in business talk, I'd like to dance with this young man here. Galen, dance with your daughter."
"Yes, dear," Galen responded dutifully, winking at Angelina as he led Shannon around the dance floor.
Max pulled Angelina into his arms. Damn, the woman was breathtakingly beautiful, no matter what her age. Petite, her body still that of a young woman's. Glossy, dark hair reflected the light of the chandeliers, curls streaming down the side of her face and resting against prominent cheekbones. Her amber eyes sparkled.
"You're here for more than just The Rising Storm's campaign," she said.
Now how could she know that? Or maybe she was just fishing.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Mrs. Storm."
"Call me Angelina. And I think you know exactly what I mean."
Did he? He knew the Storms had magic, and he could certainly feel a power emanating from this diminutive yet obviously commanding woman. If Shannon had it, then it stood to reason that Angelina had it, too.
"Why don't you tell me what you think you know, and I'll tell you if you're right?"
She laughed, soft and gently. "Oh, you're very good, Max. I can see why Shannon likes you."
"She told you that?" That would be a surprise if it were the case. As it was, he'd been expecting a resounding slap across the face from her before her parents showed up.
"Of course not. I know my daughter. She's very stubborn." Lowering her voice and glancing around the room, she whispered, "She gets that from her father."
Now it was Max's turn to laugh. "I think she might get some of her high spiritedness from her mother, too."
"Maybe. Now as far as what you want, I can sense you're different from most men."
That was an understatement. "Go on."
"And you have an agenda while here. One that goes beyond the campaign for The Rising Storm."
Okay, she was right on that one, too.
"You're very powerful, Max. But keep this in mind. So am I, as is my family. I sense you have an attraction to my daughter, and while I don't necessarily feel that's a bad thing, I won't stand by and watch her be hurt by anyone. We defend our own."
A fierce mother protecting her young. How could Max not respect that? "I understand, Angelina. And believe me, the last thing I want is to hurt Shannon. I believe we share a destiny."
She arched a brow. "A destiny? How so?"
Max wasn't certain how much she'd already guessed about him, so he wasn't going to volunteer too much information. How could he explain to Shannon's mother that he was a werewolf and had chosen her daughter for his mate? She just might not like that idea. "I believe we're fated to be together."
