Volunteering as a troubleshooter wasn’t going to be a huge task at all. It was more a favour to ease Tessa’s concerns.
No, Keri planned on using what should be ample spare time this trip to plan out her future. She had an art degree from the community college, ink permanently staining her fingers, and a backpack full of charcoal pencils and art pads. But drawing pictures in the farmer’s market wouldn’t pay the bills forever. She sent another set of good wishes her parents’ direction for being patient with a rebellious hothead and giving her a place to bloom.
Now if she could only figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up.
A gust of wind tossed her long hair into her eyes, and Keri regretted her decision to leave it down. At sea she’d have to drag it back into a ponytail. She twisted the strands out of her way and dug in her pocket for an elastic.
Loud shouts drew her attention to the harbour. Three people raced through the streets, the one in front narrowly ahead. He leapt over a stack of boxes before shoving them behind him into the path of his pursuers. The first man turned the corner, out of sight for a moment, as the two behind forced the crates out of the way, their curses painting the air blue.
Keri walked along the railing, trying to locate the cause of the commotion. Was he a thief, perhaps? Someone late on their mooring payments? By the time she’d reached the prow of the boat, the two pursuers were visible in greater detail. Big clumpy fishermen boots graced their feet, and they were covered in shiny rain gear from head to toe. The sheer awkwardness of running in those outfits made her legs ache in sympathy.
Out on the main street, a lone figure dashed back into view, head down, legs pumping. He was poetry in motion as he leapt over ropes and around barrels, climbing over people and shipping supplies as if taking a casual stroll down the beach.
Only, when he changed direction, raced up the ramp and disappeared into the depths of the Arctic Wolf’s hold, the fun and games were over.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Keri turned to the nearest stairwell and sprinted downward.
Troubleshooter? This was trouble shouting loud and clear, and no way was someone sneaking aboard the ship unapproved. Not on her watch. Especially someone who might or might not have the fishermen’s mafia on his heels.
She burst into the crew common area and glanced around. A short line of people waited before a folding table, the two pursers behind it handing out keys and information sheets.
“Something wrong?” The chief supervisor, Chad, smiled her way enticingly, and yeah, they’d been flirting earlier, but…timing, dude. Being a family friend didn’t mean any time, any place.
“Did you see an unauthorized entry? There was a disturbance down on the docks.”
“No one new boarded except the last-minute crew we contracted locally. And this is almost the last of them.” Chad stood and eyed the line. “There’s one missing. A Mark Weaver. He’s not here yet—”
“Here I am. Sorry. Tiny mistake—alarm didn’t go off. Got here as quick as possible.”
The late arrival was dark haired, the strands long enough to lie tousled around his shoulders like some bad-boy rock star on tour. Mmm, she liked bad boys. His leather jacket hung open, his chest moving rapidly, and Keri hesitated.
Chest heaving? Slightly panting—as if he’d been running? “Did someone escort you to the ship, Mr. Weaver?”
His eyes widened, then his grin flashed and her belly warmed. Damn, that face of his should be labeled a dangerous weapon. “No, but I sure could use an escort to my room.”
“You’ll get your sleeping assignment in a minute,” Chad cut in. “First, sign here.”
Keri shook herself, stepping back in self-defense.
Mark winked her direction then leaned over the table to add a swirl of chaos to the bottom of the page. “There you go, love.”
Chad choked for a second before handing over a key. “Your room is on the port side, toward mid ship. You can get extra linens and supplies from the hall storage, and your first shift starts at eleven hundred hours. Report back here and you’ll find your team leader, who will get you fitted up and give you last-minute instructions.”
Mark tilted an imaginary hat at Keri, ignoring Chad completely. “You going to be around? Help me find my sea legs, that kind of thing?”
Keri continued to retreat until her back hit the wall. “I think we’ll end this conversation now, Mr. Weaver. Find your quarters.”
His dark eyes sparkled for a second before he dropped his gaze, stroking his way down her body. She should feel insulted. She should turn and demand he treat her with more respect. The words wouldn’t come, mainly because what she really wanted was to strip right there and ride him like a Harley. Feel his power rumbling between her thighs and—
Sweat broke out on her brow, cooling instantly in the air-conditioned room. Mark was out the door before she figured out how to respond further. Keri avoided the blatant question in Chad’s eyes and raced away, slamming through the door that led the opposite direction from where her mystery man had gone. All thoughts of why he’d been chased aboard were lost in the disastrous new revelation that had overtaken her.
This was not good. This was so not good. The situation had gone from troublesome to tortuous in less time than it took for the average wolf pack to consume a prime-rib dinner.
Keri stopped to lean her forehead on the nearest wall. She hit with more force than intended, which was moderately excruciating but somehow appropriate.
In fact, she repeated the move. A couple of times.
Bang. Bang.
The resulting pain made her screw up her face. Bang. She was supposed to be there for her friend and act as a troubleshooter. Bang. Not be the one to cause chaos right under Tessa’s nose. Bang. Not discovering her mate in the midst of the hired help.
Her mate. Oh my word, was it really him?
She flipped around and pressed her shoulders to the wall, letting her head fall back. Instantly drooling over some strange guy wasn’t the problem—shifters were cool about sex, and if she wanted to go knock boots with someone, no one would even blink.
But what her body was doing right now? This was an out-of-the-blue, off-the-charts, do-it-now and do-it-hard attraction. In any shifter’s handbook, she was sure she’d find her symptoms listed as classic he’s the one, accompanied by flashing neon warning lights.
Now the question was, what the heck did she do?
Chapter Two
Jared sprawled across the single bed that occupied three-quarters of the available space in his tiny crew cabin. Ever since his fight-or-flight response had kicked in back at the coffee shop and shot him full of adrenaline, he’d been vibrating. Only now had his heart rate dropped to anything approaching normal.
He sat up and dragged a hand through his hair. Well, that had been exciting. His lover over the previous few nights had insisted she was good with some casual fun. The family photo he’d spotted on the wall, the one with her being guarded carefully by her older brothers—his chasers of the fisherman variety—should have reminded him otherwise. Even if she was fine with bed-rocking, mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex, her big brothers had other ideas about what their little sis should be doing. They had warned him off a long time ago.
His reputation truly had been well earned.