The Beast in Him Page 5

  Smitty looked at his sister comfortably resting on a leather love seat. Brendon Shaw’s apartment had big, comfortable furniture, and to the cat’s great annoyance, the wolves did love to come on over whenever it suited them and lounge.

  “I’m Bobby Ray Smith,” Smitty said simply to his kin.

  “You are,” Sissy agreed. “But apparently that don’t matter much to little Jessie Ann.”

  “I know,” Shaw said, still laughing. “Let’s all go around the room and say what our names are. ’Cause that makes the difference.”

  “Man, you are an asshole,” Smitty snarled, looking for a fight and maybe just finding it.

  “Oooh. Those are mighty fightin’ words from a guy who just got shot down by a Rhodesian Ridgeback.”

  Ronnie let out a sigh. “You never know when to shut up.”

  Smitty stood. “Is there something you want to say to me, boy?”

  “Not really.” Shaw stood. “Just like your little nongirlfriend there, I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

  And the last thing Smitty heard before he unleashed his claws and felt fangs bury into his neck was Ronnie Lee screaming at him, “Just not his face, Smitty!”

  Chapter 4

  “No.”

  Smitty stared at the lion. “No what? I didn’t say anything. Did I, Mindy?”

  Mace glanced at their executive assistant. “Don’t involve her.”

  Mindy, a seriously hot cheetah hired by his sister, shook her head. “Do you two actually have time for this?”

  “You’re not going,” Mace said again.

  “Why would you want to?” Mindy asked, pulling folders out of her desk. “He’s going to pick up a check, not stop by a whorehouse.”

  “He wants to see if Jessica Ward really has no interest in him.”

  Mindy snorted. “That dog is loaded. No,” Mindy stated flatly, “she has no interest in you.”

  Smitty put his hand to his chest. “Mindy, you don’t have to be jealous, darlin’. You know my heart belongs to you.”

  “Which my wife greatly appreciates.”

  “You’re not going,” Mace said again. “Jessica Ward can bring us some high-level clients. I don’t need you and your dick fucking it up.”

  “Now, hoss, that just hurts.”

  Mace’s eyes narrowed. “Look, hillbilly, you’re not going and that’s that.”

  “Really? Well, with you gone, that means I can get on the phone, call sweet Dez, and tell her how much you love her and need her and how much you love her pot roast and how you really, in your heart of hearts, want a little housewife cooking and cleaning for you when you get home. A little housewife waiting. Just. For. You.”

  “All right, fine! You can come.” Mace gritted his teeth. “You…bastard.”

  He stormed out and Smitty sauntered after him.

  “You are mean,” Mindy laughingly whispered.

  “Just doin’ what I gotta do to make things happen, darlin’.”

  Because he was determined to see Jessie Ann Ward again. And nothing, especially not a big, surly cat, would get in his way.

  The Kuznetsov office building stood in the middle of Greenwich Village. A prime piece of real estate that would only go up in equity. They’d taken over an old multifloored warehouse and turned it into the coolest office in a twenty-block radius. Each floor managed or handled different parts of the business, but the top floor belonged to the Pack. Only those invited to the floor ever made it up there. The Pack simply couldn’t take the chance of a full-human seeing something they really shouldn’t see. So if you weren’t on the list at the front desk, you didn’t get in.

  When their lunch arrived, Jess had no other option but to join in with her Pack and eat since they stood outside her office singing “Feelings” until she did. Cruel but effective. So while Phil played a computer game, May and Sabina surfed porn sites, and Danny zipped around the office on his skateboard by holding their dogs’ leashes and letting them run, Jess ate her tuna on rye and wrote e-mails on her laptop.

  “Danny,” she said as Danny flew past her, “any word on the Bander account?”

  “Weasel says it took him less than thirty minutes to get past their security. It was way too easy.”

  “Bring Weasel in. I want to talk to him.” Weasel wasn’t an actual weasel but a full-human who could hack into damn near anything. Jess figured out long ago it was best to work with the same guys she wanted to keep out of the systems her company secured. Hackers didn’t usually ask for much—a couple of bucks, sometimes bottles of tequila or Jack Daniels, or computer equipment. And Jess had always gotten along better with the full-human geek males and females than the hoity-toity types whose money she took.

  “And walk the dogs, Danny. Since you’re using them for your own amusement.”

  “Will do.”

  The dogs looped around Sabina’s desk in the back of the office and dashed down the last aisle toward the already open front doors. Jess had no idea how Danny did that. Of course, with her clumsiness factor, skateboarding with her dogs was a very quick way to break both her arms.

  She watched Danny drop into a crouch so the wind resistance wouldn’t slow down the dogs. A few more feet at top speed and once they hit the door, they’d ease off so that by the time they reached the elevator, Danny and the dogs would cruise right inside.

  But about ten feet before the doorway, Jess suddenly smelled the dogs’ fear as ripe and powerful as their bad breath. Then the two of them dashed off in separate directions. The power and suddenness of their move yanked Danny back and off the skateboard, which went airborne and slammed right into the head of the non-Pack male walking into the room.

  There hadn’t been many places in this big wide world that Bobby Ray Smith hadn’t been able to charm his way into. Especially when there was an unattached female manning the front doors. But the pixie-like brunette with the adorable squeaky voice could not be charmed. Never rude, she still would not let him simply head to the boss’ offices.

  “I’m so sorry, sir, but you’re not on the list,” she’d told him in no uncertain terms. “No, can’t call. They’d put you on the list if they wanted to talk to you,” she’d insisted. “I am sorry, sir.”

  All said with a big grin and perfect white teeth.

  Of course, Smitty wasn’t the kind of guy who ever gave up. He was still trying to convince her to let him head on up when the elevator doors opened and a bleeding, battered Mace Llewellyn had to be helped into the lobby by one tiny little She-dog and several of her tiny little Pack.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “It was an accident!” At least she looked distressed by the situation. Even better, she looked like the Jessie Ann he remembered. Gone was the polished, pristine, boring Jessica Ward he’d seen on Friday and Saturday, and in her place was the geeky, “I’m still wearing my hair in ponytails” beauty he’d always liked. “We forgot he was coming up for the final check.”

  Smitty stepped in front of them, stopping their progress, and grabbed a handful of Mace’s hair. He lifted the big cat’s head and examined him closely. Not completely knocked out, but Mace was damn close with blood oozing down his face. “Well, good Lord, woman. What the hell did you hit him with, anyway?”

  Jess cleared her throat. “A skateboard.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She shook her head and kept moving forward. “You need to get him to a hospital. He was definitely out cold for a couple of minutes there.” She stepped outside the building and glanced around. “Where’s your car?”

  “There.”

  “That’s a ‘no parking’ space.”

  “You’re going to argue that with me now?”

  Smitty remotely unlocked the doors. Grabbing hold of Mace by his jacket, he lifted him away from Jessie and shoved him into the car, causing the man to moan a bit.

  Jessie’s Pack quickly retreated to the warmth of the lobby, watching them from behind the glass doors, leaving only Jessie standing outside in the
cold. She twisted her hands in front of her. “I’m so sorry about this.” She looked at Mace. “God, you don’t think he’ll have permanent brain damage, do you?”

  “You’d never be able to tell if he did.”

  She scowled at Smitty. “Is this time to joke?”

  “If you’re that worried”—he opened the back passenger door—“come with us.”

  “Huh?” She glanced back at her Pack before shaking her head. “No. No. That’s not necessary.”

  “You want him to pay the bills for this?”

  “Of course—”

  “’Cause personally I’d like to avoid any legal problems stemming from this little episode.”

  “What? You’d sue—”

  “Now, now, darlin’. Let’s deal with Mace first.” He gave her his best earnest look. “He’s all that matters right now.”

  “But—”

  He pushed her into the truck and closed the door, enjoying his good luck. True, his best friend had been wounded, but sacrifices sometimes had to be made.

  Chapter 5

  He’s not quite sure how it happened. One second he was in an elevator heading up to a dog den for the final check from his company’s recent job, secretly enjoying the fact that Smitty couldn’t get past the front desk. The next he was flat on his back looking up at a bunch of dogs staring at him, horrified.

  Two hours later, he had a face full of stitches and a raging Desiree, who had somehow backed a predatory male wolf into a corner.

  Mace had to admit he was enjoying the show.

  “Well, where the hell were you?”

  “Uh…” Hands in his front jean pockets, Smitty glanced over at Mace. His big dumb dog eyes pleading for help, but Mace only grinned, ignoring the pull of stitches.

  When Dez looked at Mace over her shoulder, his face dropped into an expression of pure pain.

  “Look at him!” She shoved Smitty by the shoulder. “Look at that face!”

  “It’ll heal in a couple of days.”

  Oooh. Wrong answer.

  Dez turned those gorgeous gray-green eyes on the wolf, and Mace watched Smitty do what any sensible predator would do in a situation like this…

  Plot to run away.

  “He’ll heal? Is that what you said to me?”

  “Well—”

  “Because what if this wasn’t some simple facial lacerations? What if someone had pulled a gun or put a knife to his throat?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  She took a step closer. At least five inches shorter than Smitty, she still would make any male wary. After the baby had been born, Mace really worried that side of his Dez had gone away. But one day back at her job and she was tougher. More dangerous.

  Mace found it so hot.

  “When he goes to work, I’m assuming you’re protecting each other. That you’re protecting him.”

  “Yeah, but he’s king of the jungle.”

  Mace watched those eyes he loved so much narrow dangerously. Her hand curled into a fist. And Mace knew Dez had at least two guns on her.

  Smitty swallowed, probably wondering who could move faster—Mace’s money was on his woman and her ability to draw her weapon. Then the hospital door opened and Smitty took his chance.

  “It’s not my fault.” He pointed at the wild dog who’d just walked into the room. “It’s hers.”

  Dez spun around, nailing Jessica Ward to the spot. But after a moment, the two women grinned, squealed, and ran into each other’s arms for a big hug.

  “Jess!”

  “Dez! Oh, my God, girl. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Fine.” Dez pulled back. “Look at you, Miss Too Rich to Remember Her Friends.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I was at the Christmas party at Moriharty’s. Where were you?”

  Dez smirked and nodded toward Mace. “I’d just bred his little demon seed.”

  Jess gasped in surprise. “You’re a mother?” That question was followed with another squeal that had both Smitty and Mace covering their ears in agony.

  When Mace could hear again, the women were huddled over Dez’s wallet and pictures of Marcus—and her dumb dogs. He glanced at Smitty, who mouthed, “Asshole.” In response, Mace gave him the finger.

  “So what happened?” Dez asked after the pair had gushed over how beautiful Marcus and those dumb dogs were.

  “Bobby Ray is right,” Jess admitted. “It was my fault. I forgot Mace was coming to the office, and Danny was doing his usual lunch thing by letting our dogs take him around the office on his skateboard. They love doing that. Anyway, with a lion suddenly appearing in the office, they got a little spooked.”

  Dez turned accusing eyes on Mace. “You scared her dogs?” she yelled.

  “Wait. How did this become my fault?”

  Jess stood around chatting with Dez until two more lions, mocking Llewellyn mercilessly, showed up. One of the big cats she knew: Brendon Shaw. Her company had done work for him on more than one occasion, she’d seen him at a few social events over the years, and the Pack’s much-loved Long Island property butted right up against Marissa Shaw’s and the Stark hyena Clan’s territories.

  With Shaw came his brother. Not as big but just as handsome. She’d never met him before, but he seemed pleasant enough.

  The problem wasn’t the brothers but the fact that Brendon brought flowers for Mace. As a joke sure, but Jess couldn’t find it funny. Since her allergic reaction to flowers could be considered colossal. She had small zipped cases in her backpack and key strategic places she frequented that held her allergy pills, nasal spray, and even an inhaler for those worst-case scenarios. Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought her backpack or coat with her. So she had no way of stopping one of her bouts unless she left the room in the next ninety seconds.

  Not wasting any time, she whispered good-bye to Dez with promises to see her another time for lunch or dinner, before making her escape.

  She pressed the button on the elevator and checked her e-mail from her phone. The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. She pressed the ground floor button and went back to her phone. A rude reply from a rude client had her seeing blood red, and she immediately began typing a seriously vicious reply. Once she hit send it suddenly occurred to her the doors hadn’t opened. She glanced up and realized the floor numbers didn’t seem to be moving either.

  “Took you long enough.”

  Startled by the low voice—and damn him that sexy slow drawl—Jess snarled and slammed her back against the opposite elevator wall.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Don’t sneak up on me like that, Bobby Ray!”

  “Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to startle you into blaspheming. Though I’m never quite sure how you don’t know when someone’s standing right next to you. We’re supposed to have enhanced skills.”

  “I was taking care of something.”

  “So I could see. Man, those little fingers move fast.”

  “They’re not little.”

  He grabbed hold of her right forefinger and lifted her hand. “Like a leprechaun’s hands.”

  Trying not to notice how good his rough fingers felt on hers, she snatched her hand back. After all these years—and with her at a cool five feet nine inches—Smitty still called her small. Of course, compared to those linebackers he called She-wolves…

  “They are not like a leprechaun’s hands! Now, is there a reason you stopped the elevator?”

  “I see you still have your allergy to flowers,” he said, stunning her that he actually remembered after all these years. “Is that why you left the room without talking to me?”

  “Talk to you?”

  “Yeah, remember? I told you I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” Resigned to her fate, Jess waited for him to say something. After a good three minutes of mutual staring, she realized that wouldn’t be happening. “And what would you like to talk about, Bobby Ray?”

  “First off, feel free to call me Smitty. Everyone does now. And second, I wante
d to talk about you.”

  “What about me?”

  “I’d like to know what you’ve been doing all this time. Where you went. How you got here.”

  Truly perplexed, she asked, “Why?”

  “’Cause I’m interested.”

  Jess gave a short shake of her head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  She hit the elevator button and the doors opened on the same floor, but Bobby Ray—Smitty—hit it again and the doors closed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to talk to you.”

  “I said no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Is your sister in town with you?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “And Ronnie Lee Reed?”

  “Yeah, she is—”

  “Then I have nothing to say.”

  She hit the elevator button again and so did Smitty. “What do they have to do with anything?”

  “They made my life hell. For all I know, you guys are just setting me up for some cruel joke. I’ll end up walking down the street like in Carrie, wearing a prom dress and covered in pig’s blood.”

  Smitty shook his head. “I don’t understand anything of what you just said.”

  “Yeah, I know. We’ve never spoken the same language.”

  “You mean English?”

  “No, geek. Now if you’ll excuse me…” Again, she hit the button. And again, so did he. “Would you stop doing that!”

  “Then stop trying to rabbit away from me.”

  Frustrated and getting kind of worked up being trapped in such a small box with one testosterone-saturated male, Jess crossed her arms over her chest and braced her legs apart. “What do you want, Smith?”

  He stared at her for a long moment before finally saying, “I thought we could hang out.”

  “Hang out?”

  “Jessie Ann, we were friends. I’d like to continue that.”

  “Friends?” Now Jess stared. “You are setting me up. Did your sister put you up to this? Little more torture for the dog. For Spot?”