His grin got wider. “Woowoo. Nicely put. Is that the scientific word, or something we’re still trying on for size?”
She ignored him. It was the only way to make this conversation go anywhere before she needed to drag in reinforcements.
“In the old days I had to come up with logical explanations for weird wolf shit happening around the hotel and bar maybe once or twice a month. And nine times out of ten the incidents were caused by visitors to the area—the usual gangly teens not able to control a shift, or thinking it would be hysterical to go for a swim in the pool in their wolf forms.” Evan snickered, and she smacked him on the arm. “Laugh it up, big boy, but after a while trying to cover your asses and keep the shifters undercover is a royal pain. I like my job, and I like the pack. I don’t like being your nursemaid.”
“Sorry.” He looked contrite enough, but his smile didn’t diminish. “I was remembering the story they told me about you announcing there was a meeting for the Iditarod and some of the teams had gotten loose. That’s why crowds of ‘dogs’ were swarming the halls.”
Caroline sniffed. “That was one of my better moments of inspiration.”
She stood and carried their empty cups to the kitchen, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. When she stood, Evan was right there at her side.
“You didn’t finish your explanation.”
She leaned back on the island. “Think about it. Since you took over as Alpha, there have been more and more incidents. It’s not once in a while anymore, it’s weekly, if not daily. And the troubles are always related to a female panting over you in some shape or form. I realize jostling for position is normal for wolves, but it’s a pain in the ass. As a human, I have no designs on your pack or being something big shot in the hierarchy. But with my background, I know enough about wolves to hold my own and keep the bitches off your back. At least until you tell me you’ve found someone you’re interested in—I won’t get pissed off if you announce it’s over. I understand the whole mate thing.”
Evan nodded slowly. “Makes sense. I’ll think about your offer.”
Caroline couldn’t stop the little thrill of excitement that hit. “I can wait. Just try to decide before I have to explain a wolf fight in the front lobby, okay?”
He stretched and yawned. “Well, since we’re both awake, you want to help me take a load to the recycle station?”
Hmm. No. “On my day off?”
“Who knows, there might be crowds of women waiting to leap out of the blue boxes and besmirch my virtue.”
They both laughed, comfortable together in spite of her out-of-the-blue suggestion, and she could only cross her fingers and hope for the best.
There was a small headache crouched behind him, waiting to pounce. Shaun opened his eyes slowly, fearful of what he was about to discover. The last time he’d been this groggy when he woke, there had been hijacking, Russian fishing vessels and anvils involved. The ceiling looked unthreatening, but he didn’t do anything stupid like move too fast. He never knew when a billowing black cloud would leap out and burst into a neon lightshow that would force him to squint in pain.
He hated these kinds of mornings, but had to admit they were fairly entertaining.
A soft purr of contentment sounded on his right, and he jerked. Then he cursed silently as the jerk triggered explosions that ricocheted through his brainpan.
He took his time and went for a slow roll. He only made it part way over. His legs were trapped, his hips tight against something warm and soft. Shaun leaned on one elbow to stare down at a one-hundred-percent, honest-to-God beauty-pageant winner.
She had the most incredible eyelashes. He wasn’t used to spotting facial features first on a woman. Usually, it was her breasts or her legs he keyed in on. Being an equal-opportunity admirer of the female body, he hated to have a favourite part.
But this woman? Her lashes were like little furry caterpillars. Only—attractive caterpillars. He was tempted to touch one to see if it would crawl away, but he didn’t want to wake her. She must be awfully tired after last night.
Whatever it was they’d done.
He had to assume that since they were in bed, naked—he checked—yup, naked—there had been some major mattress shaking going on. He really wished he could remember, because the sex must have been spectacular.
Shaun lay back and took a few deep breaths. Strangely, that didn’t have the result he was looking for. His goal had been to relax and close his eyes until Miss Universe woke up and they could have a second, or third, round of whatever they had enjoyed before.
Nope, relaxing was out the window as soon as his brain registered what his nose said. It wasn’t just how incredible her scent was, but the fact she smelled like him. He matched her, they were all mixed up and—holy crap.
“Oh my God, you’re my mate.” Shaun was up on his elbow again in an instant, staring at her. He racked his brains. Yesterday—fighting with bears, drinking with Evan, crashing at the hotel—he got that far. When the hell did find your mate and fuck her silly slip into the equation?
He wasn’t sure if he should scream in joy or horror. He was so screwed.
She wiggled, brushing his side, and a shiver started where she made contact, the sensation racing all around his groin.
Think. Think. Shaun had to remember before she woke up, because he was sure there was something in the female-wolf manual about permission to castrate your partner for forgetting your first time together. He’d forgotten a girlfriend’s birthday once. It was kind of guaranteed that this would be an even bigger screw-up.
Maybe if he had a scorching hot shower. Or another couple stiff drinks. Shaun scrunched himself as small as possible before peeling backwards off the mattress with the same care he would use in disassembling a bomb. If he knew how to do such a thing.
One foot contacted the floor. The other. He used his hands to force his body upright, pleased to find he had no trouble staying vertical. She hadn’t moved, the long strands of her hair wreathed around her head like a fluffy black cloud.
He liked how she looked, all soft and warm. Which was fabulous, since they were mates, but enjoying the visual feast laid out before him didn’t answer a few vital questions.
A sudden mental itch stopped him in his tracks, and he tiptoed back to double-check if there was a bite mark on her anywhere. They hadn’t bothered to crawl under the covers, the heat from their shifter bodies enough to keep them warm. That left every succulent inch of her exposed, and Shaun was suddenly curious about more than discovering if he’d already marked her.
Her smooth, chocolate-brown skin was unmarred by bruises, or any bite marks. The long elegant line of her neck revealed bare flawless flesh.
Why hadn’t he marked her? He wanted a mate. Even staring at her now his interest in getting to know her all over again rose.
What was the better choice? Escape now and have a mature discussion once she woke wherein he would grovel and beg for forgiveness, or should he try to fake his way through, at least for a while?
He’d hate to be in the doghouse before he’d even had sex. Well, sex he could remember.
A low beeping noise sounded and Shaun scrambled back, searching for the source before the clatter woke his mystery mate.
Lying on the dresser was a slim cell phone, and he picked it up in time for the ringing to stop and a message to flash onto the screen. Gemmita, call me.
“Shaun?”
He spun, tucking his hands behind him. Shaun coughed lightly to cover the sound of the phone hitting the wooden surface of the dresser as he dropped it. His dark beauty had woken, curling those spectacular legs in as she sat up. She did naked very well.