“Eggie—”
“It’s a male thing. I had to work for you. That’s all.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. You don’t think if we have a daughter, I won’t do the same thing to the lowlife slug that tries to make her his mate?”
“You don’t even know this boy yet and already he’s a lowlife slug?”
“If he’s messin’ with my little girl.”
“A little girl you don’t have yet.”
“We will.” He started walking toward the house. “But later. Now you’ll introduce me to your daddy proper-like.”
“Wait, Eggie.”
He stopped. “Uh-huh?”
“Suggestion. For first impressions with my daddy and all . . . may wanna put on pants.”
“Oh.” They both looked down to see Eggie deliciously naked. “Guess you have a point.” He smiled and Darla grinned back. She kissed him, hugged him tight.
“Come out with us,” she told him. “Daddy’s taking everyone to dinner.”
“I don’t think he wants me going.”
Darla snorted. “Daddy!” she called out, startling Eggie.
“Yes, Darla?”
“I’m going with Eggie to get his pants. Then we’re all going to dinner tonight. The whole family, so Momma can meet him, too.”
“I didn’t invite him.”
“Daddy!”
“Oh, all right!” he snapped from still inside the house. “But hurry up. Ain’t got all night.”
“See?” she told Eggie. “You can always get what you want. You just need to be nice about it.”
“Is that what I’m missing? Just being nice?”
“Darlin’,” she teased, “let’s not ask for the world.” She kissed him again, her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. “Now let’s go get your pants.”
“Will I have to put them on right away?” he asked, gently nipping the tip of her nose.
Darla gave the wolf she loved a wide smile. “Not if I have any say in it.”
EPILOGUE
More than thirty years later . . .
Eggie came out of the woods and walked toward his house. He knew the car sitting in front of it and the tall, beautiful She-wolf leaning against the overpriced piece of Eurotrash vehicle. But Eggie didn’t mind too much because he knew it wasn’t a car she would buy. No. Not her. She still had that ’78 Camaro sitting in his barn that she used every time she came to town to visit.
Too bad she wasn’t alone this time. She was with him. The boy.
Eggie walked up to a nearby tree where he’d left his jeans, shifted to human and pulled the jeans on. Yet even before he’d done that, she’d sensed Eggie’s presence. He could tell. She had his sense of things. His skills. In fact, Eggie would say she was better at what she did than he’d been. Her skill had been inborn. Part of her DNA.
The boy, however . . . was blissfully unaware of the danger lurking right behind him. Smooth and charming? Sure he was. But that was it as far as Eggie was concerned.
Eggie stood behind the boy, wondering how long before he’d notice Eggie was there.
About thirty seconds, it turned out.
Slowly, the boy turned and faced him, eyes wide. A Van Holtz. On Eggie’s territory—with permission. The thought made him feel like sneering. So he did. At the boy.
The boy swallowed at that sneer and took a step back. But the woman with him stepped around and threw herself into Eggie’s arms. “Daddy.”
“Hey, Sugar Bug.”
Eggie hugged his only daughter tight while he eyed the Van Holtz wolf standing on the other side of her.
Dee-Ann pulled away from Eggie and looked at the boy, waiting for him to say something.
Clearing his throat, the boy stepped forward, held out his hand. “Mr. Smith. It’s good to see you again.”
Eggie looked down at that hand and then, slowly, looked back at the boy. He saw the color drain from his already pale face. Yankee who never saw the sun was the problem there.
A squeal from the porch and Darla Mae came rushing down. She’d filled out a bit over the years, but it worked for her. Gave Eggie even more to love—although she claimed she hated when he said that.
Arms wide, Darla reached up and hugged their daughter. She favored her mother in the face, but she had Eggie’s eyes. Whether wolf or human, her eyes were cold and yellow and deadly. Sometimes, when she’d come to visit, the two of them would go to the mall, get a couple of chocolate shakes, sit around, and just stare at people. Taking bets on who they could get to piss their pants with nothing more than a look. It was something they’d been doing since his little girl was about five or so. It was also something they never told her momma about.
“Oh, my baby girl,” Darla cheered. “I’m so glad you’re home!”
“Me, too, Momma. You all right?”
“I’m just fine, Sugar Bug. Even better now that you’re home.” She stepped back and Darla, as always when first seeing her daughter, had to wipe tears away.
“Momma, don’t cry.”
“I’ll cry if I want to, Dee-Ann Smith.” She lightly tapped Dee-Ann aside and smiled at the boy.
“Ulrich Van Holtz.” Darla threw her arms open. “Come on over here, darlin’ boy.”
Smiling—probably because he was relieved—the boy willingly went to Darla and hugged her.
Eggie’s eyes narrowed and he started to bare his fangs. But he stopped when Dee-Ann’s elbow tapped his ribs.
“Daddy.” And she sounded just like her momma when she said it that way.
Darla finally pulled away from what Eggie still considered an enemy wolf and smiled happily at the pair. “I’m so glad you’re both here.”
“Sorry we’re late, Miss Darla,” the boy said. “We stopped by the store to pick up a few things.”
“Ulrich Van Holtz, are you going to make me one of your fancy dinners?”
“I sure am. Especially if you make me that pecan pie of yours.”
“Already baking in the oven.” She motioned to the house. “You go in there and get comfortable. Your room is all ready, so if you want to rest first—”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m ready to cook.”
“Great. Then get going.”
The boy turned to grab the bags out of the backseat of the car but he stopped and stared at Eggie since Eggie was standing in front of the door.
“Uh . . . excuse me, sir.”
Eggie stared a little longer, just a few seconds, before he stepped out of the way. The boy grabbed several bags and Dee-Ann grabbed the last two. Before she stepped away, she kissed her father on the cheek.
“Lord, I missed you, Daddy.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You never fail to entertain.”
Eggie winked at his little girl—all six feet and two inches of her—and watched her and that worthless Van Holtz head into their house. Tomorrow Eggie would go hunting with his little girl. They’d spend the day roaming the hills of the town he loved while Darla entertained the boy with food shopping and visiting with the rest of the Lewis sisters at the pie shop.
Once the young pair were inside the house, Darla slapped his arm. “I thought I told you to be nice to him!”
“I didn’t shoot at him this time.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Thought that was an accident.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
Darla rolled her eyes and started to walk away, but Eggie pulled her back. “Mange.”
She gasped and whispered, “That boy does not have mange! Stop saying that.”
“Distemper, then. He’s got that Van Holtz Distemper Strain. CDT.”
“Egbert Ray Smith, the only temper you need to worry about right now is mine.”
“You gettin’ cranky, Darla Mae?”
“Egbert Ray.”
He walked her back until he had her pinned against the car, and he kept her there by putting his arms on either side of her. “You’re not really mad at me, are you, Darla Mae?”
“Furious.”
“Guess I’ll have to make it up to you then.”
“Not here you won’t!” she giggled, putting her hands on his chest and trying to push him back. Although she wasn’t trying very hard. “Just stop picking on poor Ulrich.”
“He’s with my Sugar Bug—”
“Ridiculous nickname.” That she used just as much as Eggie.
“—and I can’t let him off easy.”
“But he likes you so much.”
“Darla Mae.”
“All right. I think he wants to like you, but you make it impossible.”
“Not sure he’s right for my little girl is all.”
Darla pressed her hand against Eggie’s cheek. “Trust me when I say . . . there is no wolf on this planet more perfect for your daughter. At least not one that can actually shift to human.”
“All right, all right. I’ll keep the snarling to a minimum this time. But not the glaring.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
“Now kiss me and tell me you love me.”
“Who says I do?”
“You did . . . last night.”
She blushed, her grin wide, probably remembering how he’d woken her up in the middle of the night with kisses and nuzzles. “Egbert Ray Smith, stop it.”
“Stop what? Loving you? ’Cause that ain’t never gonna happen, Darla Mae.”
“I know, Eggie,” she said, her pretty eyes warm and, as always with him, welcoming. And damn it all, she still had those dimples, too. “That’s what makes everything perfect for me. Always has. Now come on.” She took his hand, led him toward the house. “Let’s go see our beautiful baby girl and her mate.”
WED OR DEAD
Cynthia Eden
For Megan, editor extraordinaire.
Thanks for all of your insight and assistance.
CHAPTER ONE
The bride almost left her groom at the altar. The temptation was pretty damn strong.
Normally, Kayla Kincaid wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything, but when she put one foot down on that too-red carpet at the Forever Chapel, her heart raced so fast that her chest hurt. She gripped the flowers in her hand, a small bouquet of daisies that the groom had grabbed from God knew where. There was music playing. Some sweet little old lady was nearby, stroking an organ and smiling, and Kayla realized that she had frozen after taking that single step.
This was her wedding day? How the hell had this happened? She wasn’t supposed to be getting married. She should be hightailing it out of Vegas, and not getting all sweaty-palmed around the daisies as she got ready to say I do.
How? How had this happened? Her death grip tightened on the slumping bouquet.
Then the groom turned toward her and flashed that megawatt smile of his. The smile that revealed all of his perfect, white teeth.
Oh, right. That was how.
Gage Riley waited for her at the end of that narrow aisle. The groom. She swallowed. He wasn’t dressed in a fancy tux. He wore jeans that clung to his lean hips and a black T-shirt that stretched taut over his muscled chest and those wonderful big and broad shoulders that had probably made plenty of women drool over the years.
With his perfect, sculpted face, that rock-hard jaw, his wild mane of midnight black hair, and those sky blue eyes, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
She managed to unfreeze herself and take another step toward him. Gage. Sexy, but dangerous. Oh, she knew he was dangerous.
He was also a job. Her assignment. And Kayla had her orders.
Get close to him. By any means necessary. In this case, any means included marriage.
But...
But this didn’t feel like an assignment.
The little old lady playing the organ began to frown at her. Gage just kept smiling. He looked confident. Strong. He had no doubt that they were about to be joined as man and wife. Kayla couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder. There were about five feet between her and the front door. Maybe . . . maybe she should just make a run for it. Before things went past the point of no return.
She tried to swallow again. The lump in her throat was getting worse.
Warm, strong fingers curled around her arm, just below her elbow. Kayla didn’t jump because she’d grown used to the silent way that Gage could move. Despite the guy’s big size, he was eerily quiet when he walked, and, jeez, the guy was fast.
“Going somewhere?” He asked in that deep, dark voice that sounded like sin in the night.
Very slowly, Kayla turned her head back so that she faced him. The smile had slipped from his face. Such a handsome face. He always looked so open and almost carefree.
But there was more to Gage than met the eye. Much, much more. Her gaze dropped to his lips. Sensual. She’d felt those lips on hers plenty of times. That had been the plan, right? Get close? Make him trust her?
Only marriage hadn’t been on her agenda. It had been on his. He’d pushed for this, and she’d realized that if she didn’t take this step, she’d lose her connection to him. Then the assignment would go to hell.
“It’s too late to run,” he told her. His hand lifted and brushed against her cheek. The caress was gentle. So at odds with fierce strength that she knew he could wield. “I’d just follow you, sweetheart.”
She was killing the daisies. The little old lady had stopped playing and was now glaring at her in a not-so-sweet way. The minister—wait, was he a minister or a justice of the peace—or something else? Whatever. The guy peered suspiciously at them from his perch near the front of the chapel.
Gage leaned toward her and his lips pressed lightly against hers. “It’s just a few simple words. Nothing for you to be afraid of.”
Kayla stiffened. “I’m not afraid.” Admitting fear to herself was one thing. Confessing it out loud, to someone else? No way.
Besides, she wasn’t really afraid. Nervous. That was all. A wee bit nervous. Gage was the one who should be afraid. The guy didn’t know just what he was setting himself up for here.
He didn’t know her. Not really.
If he did, he would be the one running.
Her groom-to-be had no idea that she’d stashed a gun in her purse. Or that she kept a knife—silver—strapped to her ankle. He didn’t know that she’d spent most of her adult life becoming a perfect predator, and he damn sure didn’t know that he was her current prey.
Gage’s lips caressed hers once more in a light kiss even as he pulled the damaged daisies from her hand. When his head lifted, his blue eyes seemed even brighter. “Good. If you’re not afraid, then come marry me.” A thread of demand underscored the words.
Gage wasn’t usually the demanding sort. He was more easygoing, more—
He tossed the daisies on a nearby chair and threaded his fingers through hers. “Want me to carry you?” His smile flashed again.
That smile of his was like her freaking kryptonite. No man should have a smile that melted panties. His did.
The organ began to play again. One foot in front of the other. Kayla took a deep breath and began to walk. One foot.
Gage was right by her side.
In front of the other.
Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the minister. He was smiling and the light reflected off the top of his bald head. He was talking. Nodding. Looking all pleased and happy.
Kayla couldn’t hear a word he said. Her heart raced too fast and too loud for that.
Gage kept a tight hold on her hand. Probably because he was afraid she’d make a break for it.
But Kayla wasn’t leaving. She’d never left a job before, and she wouldn’t start now. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Gage. Poor guy. He had no idea what was coming for him. Did he think this was some kind of epic romance?
Think again.
She was the predator. He was the prey. And, soon enough, he’d grow to hate her.
Gage nudged her. When she glanced up and found the minister staring at her, Kayla realized she was supposed to speak. “Uh, I do.” That wa
s what folks always said, right? Promise to love, honor, and cherish.
But what she’d really do . . . Lie, betray, hurt.
Her chest began to ache. This wasn’t what she wanted. Why couldn’t things have been simpler for her? For him?
The minister beamed. Gage’s strong voice rumbled beside her as he made his vow.
And she hated her life. Just once, she wished she could be normal. A woman in love—a woman actually marrying the man of her dreams.
Instead of just being a woman who was using herself as bait to set up her groom.
Gage turned her toward him. Even over the thud of her heartbeat, Kayla heard the minister say that Gage could kiss his wife.
“Hello, wife,” Gage murmured, and finally—finally—the wild thud of her heartbeat quieted, because it stopped for a few seconds. “You’re mine, now. Forever.” The words held a hard edge that she’d never heard before in his voice.
Then Gage kissed her. Not the light, teasing kisses that he’d given her before. An openmouthed, hot, I-want-you-naked kiss that sent a shudder through her whole body.
She kissed him back just as wildly. Because despite all the other madness that was happening, Kayla did want her husband. And, before he found out the truth about her and this little fantasy came to a crashing end, she’d have him.
The hotel room was one of those ridiculous pink explosions that you found in Vegas. A romance-ready room. Heart-shaped Jacuzzi. Rose petals scattered on the floor and on the massive bed. Pink champagne chilling next to a box of chocolates on the bedside table.
But when Gage carried Kayla inside the decked out room, his bride didn’t so much as give the surroundings a glance. Her eyes, big, gold, fuck-me eyes, were on him. Her hands curled around his neck. “I want you.” Her soft confession.
Did she actually sound a little surprised by that fact?
Damn, sometimes, she was so adorable . . . he could just eat her. Actually, he would.
He couldn’t believe that he’d gotten her to marry him. The lady had sure surprised him on that one. He’d been expecting her to run as fast as she could.
But she’d straightened her slim shoulders. Lifted her slightly pointed chin. And let him drag her down the aisle.