 
### BILLIONAIRE'S MATE

By

Dawn Wilder

Copyright 2015 Dawn Wilder

* * * * *

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is fictional and any resemblance to persons, places, or events is coincidental.

Adult Reading Material (language, violence, sexual content). All characters are above 18 years of age.

*****

By Dawn Wilder

Paranormal Erotic Shorts:

Mate Me

Were My Mark

Incubus Needs

Foxy Lady

Runt of the Litter

Paranormal Erotic Shorts Collection (contains all of the shorts above)

Were It (best read after Were My Mark)

Sea Me

Fangs for Coming

Were Break (best read after Were My Mark)

Paranormal Erotic Shorts Collection, Volume 2 (contains the four above, plus Were My Mark so it can be read before the other Were shorts)

Were Shield

Gunner's Mate

Tracker's Mate

Breaker's Mate

Ryder's Mate

Asher's Mate

Elena's Warriors

Curves Ahead

Foster's Mate

Fisher's Mate

Play Hard

Luther's Mate

Sayer's Mate

Casper's Mate

Rader's Mate

Fuller's Mate

Ryker's Mate

Carver's Mate

Keller's Mate

Hidden Mate

Denver's Mate

Foxy (adapted from the short Foxy Lady)

Billionaire's Mate

Dawn Wilder Writing as A.R. Dawn

Paranormal Romance:

Going Lupe

In the Lupe

Let Sleeping Lupes Lie

*****

### Free Paranormal Romance Bundle or Copy of My Next Short

If you sign up for my mailing list, I'll send you either my next short or my paranormal romance bundle (Gunner's Mate, Breaker's Mate, Tracker's Mate, Ryder's Mate, Foxy Lady, Incubus Needs, Were My Mark, Mate Me, Runt of the Litter, and Going Lupe). Just email me at dawnwilderbooks@yahoo.com with the subject ADD ME and let me know which one you would like :). Or, sign up on my Facebook page and download a copy of the bundle right away.

Happy Reading!

*****

### Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Connect

*****

### BILLIONAIRE'S MATE

*****

Chapter 1

Jordan

"Jordan! In my office."

I downed the last of my coffee and pushed away from my desk, not alarmed.

Peter was usually yelling about something.

He was pacing behind his characteristically cluttered desk when I went into his office, automatically closing the door behind me out of habit.

"What's up?" I asked curiously.

Usually we communicated via email, even though we were only twenty or so feet away from each other a lot of the time.

Ah, the modern age.

"We just landed a big interview. I mean huge! And I want _you_ to do it." He pointed at me triumphantly.

Peter could be a little dramatic.

"OK. Who is it?"

He deflated a little at my pragmatic tone, but shook it off quickly, not to be deterred.

Inserting an appropriately dramatic pause, he put both of his hands on his desk and leaned forward.

"Curt Beckett," he said almost reverentially, in an uncharacteristically low tone of voice.

I felt my stomach sink a little.

"Curt Beckett," I repeated dumbly.

"Yes! The decade's most eligible bachelor, CEO of his own company, billionaire at thirty, Curt Beckett!"

I felt the urge to throw some poms poms at him so he could complete his cheer more properly.

Curt Beckett was well known in the were community, for obvious reasons. Wealth, looks, and that something extra dominants had that drew people to him like flies to honey. Especially women.

As soon as the word was out that I was doing this interview, I knew I'd be bombarded with questions from my young cousins and any other female were that I knew.

Apart from that, it wasn't exactly the type of story I really wanted to be doing. It was the type of article that probably wouldn't be more than a step up from the gossip magazines.

And, quite honestly, I'd worked the gossip beat before. I felt like I knew too much about his goings on already.

"Alright," I sighed.

Because none of that was reason enough to turn down an interview that could be great for my career.

Damn it.

"A little enthusiasm is called for here," Peter said irritably. "Maybe I should just give this to Cynthia."

I perked up.

"Well, I know you know best Peter-"

"Oh, stop it," he interrupted with roll of his eyes. "You know I can't give it to Cynthia. Money just brings the crazy out in her. She'd probably start humping his leg like a bitch in heat."

I snorted out a laugh at that.

Not complimentary, but it was pretty accurate.

The fact that Curt was probably used to actual bitches humping his leg just made it funnier.

"OK. I'll work on it." I just wouldn't tell anyone about the assignment. Keep it professional. In and out.

"Good. Now, you'll be spending the week up until the debut of the new transit system with him. Get a feel for his day to day life."

"A week?" I squeaked.

"Yes! Isn't it amazing?" He rubbed his hands together as he sighed.

"Amazing," I parroted.

So much for getting it done and getting out.

I walked back to my desk in a daze.

But I wasn't out of it enough to miss the fact that Cynthia was glaring daggers at me. Her fire engine red hair had obviously been freshly dyed, her makeup dramatic to match. Her pleasantly pretty face didn't really match all that extra she was trying to pull off, but to each their own.

I gave her a little wave as I sat down at my desk.

He he.

Plus side, getting little digs in on Cynthia was always fun. On the other hand, that meant the gossip mill was working overtime and probably the whole floor knew I'd gotten this assignment by now.

Well, maybe it wouldn't get out further...

I opened my email to look for the file Peter had sent me.

Then blinked at the number of bolded new subject lines.

My Aunt Margaret, my cousin Selena, my best friend from third grade Trish, and a slew of others.

Really?

Last to know, as usual.

Sighing, I skipped passed all of them and found the email I'd been looking for. Opening the attachment, I settled in to read it. I would do a good job no matter what my feelings were.

Curt Beckett.

I took a moment to just stare at the small picture that was included.

He had the kind of ruggedly chiseled face that would do well on-screen, though it didn't have that almost fake look some of those hollow cheeked male models did. His hair was a brown with sunkissed streaks that looked like they might actually be real when coupled with the faint squint lines he had at the edges of his eyes. He kept it cut long enough to sweep back from his face, the bottom edges touching his collar.

Tanned, a couple of inches above six feet, with broad shoulders and muscles that his shirt only highlighted.

Good-looking, no denying that. Even my cynical ovaries gave an admiring sigh.

I moved on to the actual information, deciding I'd probably ogled his picture enough.

When he was younger, he got into some trouble. Nothing too serious- possession, petty theft. He'd stolen a car once, but had returned it and the charges had eventually been dropped. Definitely not a goody two shoes.

But he cleaned up his act pretty quickly.

First billion by the time he turned twenty-five, off of a computer program that most offices now used. Another billion at twenty-nine, off of a solar technology company that he sold.

His newest work was a train his company had built that could go faster than anything on land we had now and used only renewable energy.

The oil companies were not happy with him.

He had two brothers, both older, and a mother and father who still lived in his childhood home in Montana.

What the packet didn't include was that his father was one of the most respected Alphas in the United States and his territory was the second largest in the nation.

And that every female wolf under the age of forty fantasized about mating with the perfect Curt Beckett.

But that wasn't his fault. Even I could admit that.

There was no denying he was smart, with the determination and will power needed to leverage his ideas.

By the time I'd finished going over the file, I'd re-kindled the respect I'd always felt for him.

It was just everything else that rubbed me the wrong way.

His lifestyle wasn't exactly low key. Seemed he had a new starlet or model on his arm every week and while he didn't seem to seek out attention, he didn't go out of his way to avoid it either.

Which I couldn't help but think was a little irresponsible.

Of course, what did I know? He hadn't been caught yet.

Nobody knew about his hairy secret.

I leaned back, rubbing at the crick in my neck.

I looked around and realized the place was mostly empty.

Time to pack up for the night.

I shut down my computer and shoved everything I needed in my backpack.

One of the best parts about living in the city was that I didn't have to drive. I could walk home if I was feeling up to it or I could take public transportation home.

Or hail a cab if I was feeling really lazy.

Today I needed some time to clear my head, so a walk home sounded like a good idea.

I'd need to take some time to get a run in soon, I could feel the edge starting to creep up on me. Maybe I could rent a car after this assignment was over and drive out to the country. Run for miles.

Until then, I'd have to make do with slinking through one of the parks.

Which made me wonder what Curt did when the urge to let his wolf out hit him.

He probably had an indoor wooded area in a carefully controlled greenhouse.

Must be nice.

I loved the city, but when I had enough saved up, I would like to have a nice cabin that I could drive to on the weekends. Get a good run in, relax a little.

When I opened my apartment door, Skittles was already barking and jumping up to greet me.

I'd found him wandering around on the street one day. Although strutting was probably more accurate. He couldn't weigh more than five pounds at any given time and though he was a mutt, his Chihuahua ancestry was pretty obvious. The multicolored patches of his soft coat had inspired his name.

I hadn't been able to find his owner and had meant to take him to the shelter, but he'd managed to burrow his way into my heart.

Luckily, the long days I spent at work didn't bother him too much, though I made sure to have a neighbor peek in.

Skittles was pretty independent though.

"Hey, little guy."

I scooped up his warm little body, turning my head a little as he tried to lick my whole face at one time. Dumping my backpack in the hall, I went into the bedroom to change.

I was convinced slacks were the work of the devil.

Leggings and a sweatshirt later, I padded back out into the kitchen with Skittles on my heels.

"Here you go."

I fed him before opening the fridge and staring at the sparse contents.

I really needed to go grocery shopping.

Hmmm...milk, eggs...

Pancakes sounded good.

And I did walk home.

Fuck it.

I pulled out the ingredients and whipped together the batter. Breakfast for dinner was always comforting.

Skittles stared up at me as I doused my stack with maple syrup.

"Don't judge me. I deserve this."

He cocked his head.

I shoveled the first bite in defiantly.

"Hmmm."

Worth it.

I ate the rest of them while watching an old episode of Friends. Which was the breakfast for dinner equivalent of programming.

After I did the dishes and made a half-hearted pass at the stack of bills, I decided I'd been productive enough for the day.

"Ready to turn in?"

Skittles barked and ran into the bedroom in front of me in his usual bodyguard mode.

He hadn't found any monsters under the bed yet.

But you could never be too careful.

I climbed into bed with my phone in my hand. Skittles made a couple of turns on top of the comforter and then found a spot he liked, curling up on his side.

I spent some time skimming the news, reading through any recent articles on Curt's newest project so I'd be up to date. I'd already jotted down the points I wanted to hit, but mostly I wanted to see what he was like and what the world he inhabited was like. I'd probably get the most out of it if I kept it more casual.

People got their guard up when it felt too much like a question and answer session.

When I started yawning, I figured I'd done enough prep.

Sleep and then I'd get up early to take a little extra time getting ready.

It wasn't every day I met a billionaire.

His boxers were probably nicer than anything I had in my closet.

But that wasn't something I could fix even if I wanted to.

Shutting off the light and my brain, I followed Skittles' lead into sleep.

Chapter 2

Jordan

I stared at my closet.

Pants or skirt?

I didn't know what we'd be doing today.

Pants it was.

I pulled out a dark tweed pair that was short enough to wear with my fancy leopard print flats. If we'd be doing a lot of walking, I didn't want to start moving like an extra from the _Thriller_ music video by the end of the day.

Couldn't go wrong with a white blouse.

And a short, fitted blazer that didn't exactly match my pants but went with everything.

Jewelry?

I decided to go with my normal stud earrings and watch. Whenever I tried too hard it usually showed.

I'd cut my hair to my shoulders to make it easy on me. So I just blow dried it and that was good to go.

Some eyeliner and mascara, tinted lip balm and a little blush, and I looked much better than I usually did for work.

I'd made peace with my freckles a long time ago and given up trying to cover them with foundation.

Alright.

I looked at myself in the mirror and nodded.

I'd already eaten after taking Skittles for his walk, but I'd grab coffee on the way to the Forward Inc. offices.

"Wish me luck Skittles."

I kissed his furry head and left my apartment, as ready as I would ever be.

Not wanting to risk being late, I'd left with plenty of time to spare so I could walk. I'd found that frequent walks helped me stretch the times between running in my furry skin.

Especially when I was already feeling stressed out like I was right now.

And I missed the weight of my backpack on my back. The nice satchel I was carrying instead just didn't have the same balance since it was slung over and resting on my hip.

But that was just general whining.

Which was why I generally tried not to inflict my inner monologue on the world.

I stopped at the front of the Forward Inc. high-rise and looked up.

The building was very distinctive, with a subtle golden glow about it and even though it was streamlined like the other buildings on either side, there was something about its shape that made you think of something more classical. It made it a little more welcoming.

Squaring my shoulders, I walked into the lobby.

It was just as modern and elegant inside, with that same touch of warmth that kept it from seeming cold and sterile like some modern architecture could. I craned my neck to follow the modified roman columns up to the ceiling. I didn't know something so obviously old world could be worked to fit in with the rest of the place so seamlessly. I took in the different stone and foliage they'd used as I went up to the front desk.

"May I help you?"

The woman behind the desk was one of those grandmotherly types that had always fascinated me in movies and children's books. Gently rounded with her gray hair in a soft bun and her eyes twinkling from behind a pair of wire-frame glasses connected to one of those cords that went around your neck to make sure you didn't lose them.

My own grandmother cussed like a sailor and could take down a bison by herself.

I missed her.

"Yes, I'm here to see Mr. Beckett. My name is Jordan Matthews? I'm with-"

"Connect News. Yes, of course Ms. Matthews. I'll let Mr. Beckett know you're here. Leonard will show you up."

A lean man in his forties appeared conveniently next to me. He was dressed in a severe black business suit and a crisp white shirt that showed off his brown skin. He smiled at me politely.

"This way, Ms. Matthews. I'm to show you right up."

"Thank you."

I followed him to the bank of elevators passed the reception desk. He pressed the button for the eighty-second floor.

It might have been an awkward ride up if we weren't crowded in by other people in business suits and others in varying degrees of casual attire. And the elevator was fast enough that I could really feel it in the pit of my stomach, so the ride wasn't as long as it could have been.

Convenient when you had to travel so high I guess.

Though I didn't really care for the feeling.

The crowd in the elevator thinned out as we got up higher, until it was just us and another woman in a trim business suit glued to her phone.

The doors opened and she got off in front of us.

Leonard led the way passed several offices and to a door that was set well back from the rest of the place.

Opening the door for me, he stepped aside to let me go through first.

Murmuring a thank you, I stepped into the quiet hall and waited to be led down farther.

The hallway was bright with natural light as one side was simply glass, showing an amazing view of the city, the sky a clear bright blue today.

The hall opened up into a waiting room with a sleek brunette dressed in a business suit sitting behind a desk.

"Ms. Matthews for Mr. Beckett," Leonard said quietly.

"Yes, he's waiting for you. You can go right in," she said with a smile.

Guess this was it.

"Thank you."

I nodded at both of them and went over to the door she'd indicated. Shrugging, I knocked.

"Come in."

The voice was pleasantly deep and slightly husky.

Show time.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

I didn't know what I was expecting when I walked in, but it sure wasn't what I found.

One of the walls was taken up by a big screen television with a conversational seating area arranged around it.

Beckett was sitting on the couch facing the television.

And playing a video game.

I watched as he shot something that obviously wasn't meant to be human, realistic blood splattering across the screen.

He was talking, but it wasn't to me, so I assumed he probably had a small headset on.

I left him to it as I looked around the office.

It was as expensive as I expected it to be, but there was also signs that a human being worked there.

And not the run of the mill kind either.

A couple of white boards on wheels were pushed over to the side. I scanned them.

Well, they had some kind of math and drawings on them. But someone with more knowledge than me would have to translate if I wanted to understand anything.

The massive desk set in front of a large bank of windows with a ridiculous view had three monitors on it and piles of various papers strewn over the expanse of it. If there was some kind of organization method there I couldn't figure it out.

"Damn it. Rematch tomorrow morning."

I turned as he took off the small earpiece he'd had in his ear.

He stood up and turned to me with that charming smile I'd seen in so many photos and videos of him. It was a little higher on one side than the other and one of his incisors was slightly crooked.

The imperfections only managed to make him more attractive.

His suit jacket was thrown over the back of his couch leaving him in a crisp white shirt and slacks, no neck tie. His collar was unbuttoned at the throat, showing a small v of tanned skin.

"Sorry, morning ritual. You must be Ms. Matthews." He crossed the distance between us and held out his hand.

"Yes. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett."

His hand was much larger than mine and I had to look up quite a bit to meet his eyes. Which were even greener in person, with dark striations that didn't show up in pictures.

And he smelled amazing.

Like dark chocolate, mixed with the familiar scent of wolf.

"Please, call me Curt..."

I watched his pupils dilate a little as he trailed off.

"OK, sure. You can call me Jordan."

I tried to tug my hand away but he kept it firmly in his grip as he breathed in.

"Seems like we may have something in common Jordan."

His easy smile turned wolfish.

Curt

I took another breath as I stared down into her dark brown eyes.

Cinnamon and wolf.

It had been a while since I'd been surprised by another wolf like this. We weren't exactly thick on the ground, especially not in the city.

And she wasn't someone I'd overlook.

Maybe five and a half feet tall, with white blond hair that would stand out in any crowd here. Her eyebrows were a dark brown in contrast and I wondered if she dyed her hair.

But I couldn't smell any of those chemicals on her.

Our hair didn't take well to dye anyway.

Her body was slim and the way she carried herself let me know she was most likely the athletic type. Her outfit was practical, no skyscraper heels.

And she wasn't wearing much makeup on her pretty face. I could see the fine grain of her skin and the adorable freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. Her lips were full, with the slight shine of gloss on them.

I wondered idly if it was flavored.

And knew I should probably stop staring at her silently because she was starting to look uncomfortable.

I reluctantly let go of her hand and she immediately pulled it back and tucked both of her hands into her pockets.

Clear enough.

I kept my smile inside, not wanting to rattle her any further.

"So, do you have any questions for me?" I asked, trying to make her comfortable.

"I'm more just here to observe what your day-to-day is like. But I would like to ask questions here and there if that's fine with you?"

"Sure."

Whatever would keep her happy and here as long as possible.

"Alright. You said you play video games every morning?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah. It helps me get my brain ready for the day. Clears it so I can look at any problems with an open mind."

She nodded, glancing out at the view behind my desk.

"Do you have any other morning rituals?"

I shrugged, walking over to the chair behind my desk and easing into it. I watched the slight tension in her shoulders relax a little as I gave her more space.

Skittish.

I'd have to keep that in mind.

"Not particularly, though I am a creature of habit. I'll usually have my coffee while I look over whatever has landed on my desk overnight. Workout before I get here in the morning- helps me from getting antsy during the day. Something I'm sure you'd understand."

She nodded, but didn't take the bait to expand on herself.

Hmmm.

I'd have to try a different tact.

"Aren't you going to write any of this down?"

The sparse times I'd been interviewed briefly, if I wasn't being recorded, the interviewer would be scribbling away in a notepad.

"No, I have an excellent memory. Though if I could record some of our interactions, that would be helpful. I'd let you know beforehand. Is that OK?"

I nodded, lacing my fingers over my stomach as I watched her stroll around my office.

This wasn't something I'd particularly wanted to do, but Sun had convinced me the PR would be good for raising awareness about clean technologies while ultimately helping our bottom line.

Not that the bottom line was hurting any.

I'd planned on having the reporter follow me around for a day maybe and then bowing out of the rest of the time with some excuse.

Because I only had so much patience and a lot to get done on any given day.

But now I was suddenly thinking of ways to prolong the week she was supposed to be observing me.

"What's on your agenda today? Am I going to get in the way of anything?"

"Meetings with various interests and my product development team. The opening of the transit system is pretty much set barring any unforeseen complications. And if you're in the way, I'll let you know. Also, I'm sure you were told one of the conditions of this interview is that we're going to have to look over everything you print in case there's any information that isn't supposed to be public. At least not yet."

She turned from the bookshelf she'd been perusing to give me a slight smile.

"Fair enough. I'll try to make myself scarce."

I doubted she'd be able to accomplish that. Not when I was so fully attuned to her presence.

As if on cue, Miranda called.

"Mr. Bellevue is here."

"Send him in."

Jordan

I sat back and watched Curt in his element.

And it was definitely his element.

He introduced me to the middle-aged man in the three-piece suit and then I tried my best to fade into the woodwork as I watched.

This was not the charming, flirtatious, approachable man that he showed to the media. Or to me just a few minutes ago.

No, this was the shark that had managed to build and maintain an empire before most people even knew what they really wanted to do with their lives.

I watched the other man pat his sweating forehead with a handkerchief and almost wanted to give him a pep talk as Curt patiently and precisely laid out all the issues with the man's company. Apparently, Forward was looking to buy the man's battery manufacturing business.

And Curt was not going to pay a cent more than the the place was worth.

"You can see how I can't be paying this much for technology that still malfunctions. I'm knowingly buying a faulty product with the hopes of improving upon it. It'll save me time and effort, but there's only so much I'm willing to invest in it. I could always have my team start to work on the problem from scratch."

The man blustered some more.

"The glitches are minor at best. We've spent years getting to this point. I don't know where you're getting your information from-"

"I have it on good authority that your last three installations have failed within two weeks. I could give you the time and days if you'd like."

The man deflated a little.

By the time the meeting was over, I was almost sweating in sympathy.

"Do you want something to drink?" Curt went over to a fully stocked fridge that I hadn't noticed. It was paneled to blend in with the surrounding wall. "Water? Juice? I don't have any soda, but I could make some coffee or tea if you prefer something hot."

"Water is fine, thanks."

He took out a bottle of premium water and handed it to me before grabbing one for himself and sitting back down.

"That was pretty brutal."

He took a swig of his water while he considered me.

"If he hadn't tried to hide the issues with this particular product, it wouldn't have been necessary. I learned pretty early on my life how to spot a liar- much better ones than him. In any case, I wouldn't spare much sympathy for him. He's going to come out of this a fairly wealthy man if he doesn't screw it up."

I nodded.

When he put it that way, it was difficult to drum up too much outrage for the man.

"Mrs. Lamonte is here, Mr. Beckett."

"Send her in."

This one wasn't nearly as brutal as the last, though the woman was probably equally nervous. She didn't broadcast it much though, her faintly lined face serene as she spoke in a clear, concise manner.

And I could tell Curt liked her.

That didn't mean he pulled his punches, but he wasn't that politely cutting version of himself he'd been with the other man.

They shook hands before she left, her face still set in those unreadable lines.

The morning passed with meeting after meeting. Some more interesting than others, but Curt himself was always fascinating to watch.

The way he almost tailored his personality to match the person and the situation was a little disconcerting. He could laser in on what kind of approach would get him the result that he wanted and he could pull off that approach seamlessly.

It was intimidating.

Made me wonder who the real man was.

The flirtatious charmer or the brutal businessman?

Or both? Most people played multiple roles, and none were any less real than the others.

But there was always one that was most natural.

I wondered which one would come out on top at the end of the week.

Chapter 3

Curt

I glanced at the clock after my last meeting of the morning and realized it was lunch time.

"What do you feel like having for lunch?"

Jordan had done a good job of being unobtrusive. But I still caught her scent at moments or saw the sunlight glint off her hair. Neither of which she could control, but it did break my concentration.

Not that I minded.

I liked having her there.

But for the first time in a long time, I was impatient for the meetings to be over. I really enjoyed butting heads with people and tackling problems, so meetings were usually energizing for me.

With Jordan here, I had to tamp down on my impatience to rush through all of them as quickly as possible so I could spend more time with her.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

I didn't even know her.

"I'm fine with everything."

"How about Italian?"

"Sure, sounds good."

I had Miranda call up the restaurant and order what I usually did when I was having a working lunch. But I also had her add desert which I usually didn't bother with.

I figured that wasn't unprofessional.

And she didn't have to know I didn't usually have desert.

"Is your whole day meetings?"

I walked over to the seating area where she already was, taking one of the armchairs across from her.

"Mornings are usually meetings. Afternoons are research and development. Nights are anything that slipped through the cracks and social engagements that are really just a part of work."

She nodded, looking around the office.

"What about weekends?"

"Depends on what I'm working on. Sometimes I do get sucked back into it. And yes, I have been accused of being a workaholic. But I think that's a risk you run when you do something you're really interested in, something you love."

She nodded.

"Do you mind if I record some of this?"

I didn't like the professional barrier the little recorder she took out created, but that wasn't a reason to refuse.

"Not at all."

"Thank you." She set the device down on the table between us. "What do you think drives you? So many people would simply sit back and enjoy their life after the success you've already had."

I drummed my fingers on the armrest as I regarded her. She was leaning forward slightly, her face engaged and open. That had been a lot of meetings to sit through but she didn't seem tired.

She seemed energized.

"If I gave you a million dollars right now, would you stop working? Move out into the countryside where you could run free in the forest? Not have the pressure of a boss, deadlines, doing stories you might not be particularly excited about?"

She sat back a little, entwining her fingers together on her knee as she crossed her legs.

I wished she was wearing a skirt.

"Maybe. Though I don't know how long I'd last." She chuckled a little. "I guess I'd get back to work on my own terms, maybe go freelance."

I nodded.

"Most people need to feel productive. And I like what I do, or I wouldn't spend so much time doing it."

She nodded, opening her mouth to ask another question.

But Miranda interrupted us with a knock on the door.

"That must be the food."

I opened the door and took the bags from Miranda, murmuring to her that I'd lay them out.

She was an excellent secretary, but this might be the only time in the day that I had to spend alone with Jordan.

I set down the bags on the table and got out the plates and the cutlery I kept on hand in the cabinet.

Jordan raised her eyebrows as I served her then myself.

"What? Did I order wrong?"

"No, it smells great. I guess I just expected billionaires to always be eating at tables covered with starched white cloth and using gold plated spoons."

"Well, the food isn't from a five star restaurant, but the lovely couple who owns it makes the best ravioli I've had outside Italy. And I save my gold plated spoons for special occasions."

She smiled before digging in.

"Mmm. This _is_ good," she said around a mouthful.

I nodded, inordinately pleased that she liked what I'd chosen.

The conversation we had over lunch was light and casual, and I almost forgot that the whole thing was being recorded.

"You're really good at this."

"At talking? That's what my mom always said," she said with a self deprecating smile.

"At making people comfortable," I corrected. "It's a useful skill to have and not just in your line of work."

"Well, it's something you develop real quick or you have to move on to another type of work. People don't want to talk to people they don't like."

Made sense.

Lunch was over before I knew it. I stretched it out longer than I usually did, enjoying Jordan's sense of humor and the agility of her mind. The way she jumped from subject to subject without making the conversation seem disjointed was truly artistic.

But I finally had to get on with my day.

"Where are we going now?" she asked, her voice a little out of breath.

I slowed down so she wouldn't have to run to keep up with me.

"On to the product development team. They're just a few floors down. I usually like to touch base with them just to make sure I keep abreast with what's going on."

She nodded as we got onto the executive elevator. With this many floors in the building, it was nice having a less crowded elevator to shave time stopping on every floor.

And since I was the boss, I could make it happen.

I always found the little things the most gratifying.

"What part of the day do you like better?"

I leaned against the opposite side of the elevator from her, taking in her practical and polished appearance.

I hadn't known I had a thing for practicality until today.

"I enjoy both. They're stimulating in different ways. I'll always love research and development, seeing what's just on the horizon in technology, taking risks and making mistakes. But the business part is just as interesting in its own way. People are just a different type of puzzle. And making sure the business part functions smoothly means I can keep hiring the best of the best to come up with cool new toys."

She grinned at that, showing off the adorable dimples she had.

Freckles and dimples in the same person just wasn't fair.

The cuteness of her appearance coupled with the sharpness of her mind was just perfect.

Shaking my head, I gestured for her to proceed me when the elevator opened on the correct floor.

"Our agreement applies here. You're not going to be seeing anything too top secret, but just in case."

She nodded.

"I understand."

I could have left her in my office and said she wasn't privy to this part of my day, but I found myself wanting to impress her.

Which was ridiculous since I was no longer a young boy with sweaty palms.

I guess she just managed to bring that part of me out.

I led her into the conference room we usually used. Everyone was already assembled there.

"Hey guys. This is Jordan Matthews from Connect News. She's following me around for the week."

I could see the surprise on my team's face when they saw I'd brought someone else with me, especially a reporter. But they quickly got over it and got down to business, as enthusiastic as I was.

Jordan sat down next to me in the first row of seats as progress was presented and ideas were called out around the room.

I tried to have everyone from all aspects of R and D working together. Different people from different specialties often thought in specific ways. Getting them all together and talking through things usually led to more elegant, creative solutions to any issues we were having at any point.

Jordan sat through all of it quietly, listening and watching. I new all of this was probably not easy for her to understand, but I could almost see her absorbing everything and making connections.

She'd probably been an excellent student.

Not at all like me.

We hammered out some issues and then the team dispersed to continue their work with the new input.

Jordan was quiet as we walked back to the elevator.

"So, what did you think?" I asked, wanting to know her take.

She took her time answering as we rode back up to my office.

"Their energy is really contagious. Made me want to go back to school and get another degree in engineering or physics. Of course, I conveniently forget how bad I was at math." She smiled wryly.

I chuckled at that.

"I'm sure you'd be great at it. Sure, natural talent is a gift a lot of people have. But most work hard at what they do. I find the passion for it is almost more important than any inherent gift. It's the passion that will get you up at two in the morning to work on a glitch that you dreamed a solution to."

She nodded thoughtfully as we walked back to my office.

"I'm going to spend a couple more hours here on paperwork. Not very exciting. You can come back in the morning if you want."

She shook her head as she curled up in the corner of the longer couch.

"I'd like to stay if that's OK with you. Gives me a better feel for what you do if I can stay the whole time. I can get some work done too."

"Be my guest."

I sat down behind my desk and went through the stack of hard copies that Miranda had placed there while I was gone.

There were always contracts and legal agreements to look over. I delegated a lot, but there were some things that I'd rather handle myself.

And if I didn't get through the pile regularly, I'd quickly be able to make a paper fort.

Paperwork was one of the most onerous parts of what I did every day, but I found myself not minding it so much with Jordan's quiet breathing and her low voice murmuring things under her breath as she wrote in the notebook she'd pulled out of her bag.

It was...nice.

We both worked steadily as the stack on my desk slowly got shorter.

I finished going over the last document and sat back with a sigh, looking at the clock.

Half past seven.

I'd normally get a jump start for the next day now, looking over my schedule and reading up on any meetings I was going to have, but I didn't want Jordan to be here too late. And I knew she'd stay until midnight if I did.

I could admire that work ethic.

Reminded me of my own.

"Ready to head out?" I asked, standing and grabbing my jacket.

She looked up from her notebook and grimaced when she saw the time.

"Sure. I already texted my neighbor to take care of my dog, but he gets kind of snippy if I'm gone for this long."

I'd thought the faint scent of dog I'd smelled on her must have been a chance encounter. Wolves didn't usually have dogs- something about the way we smelled must broadcast danger because they tended to run.

"You have a dog?"

"Yeah." She smiled as she packed her things. "But it might be more accurate to say Skittles has me."

"Skittles?"

"Multi-colored chihuahua mix. Seemed appropriate."

I chuckled, grabbing my old backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.

She eyed it.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll bring my backpack tomorrow. I was trying to look professional today."

I grinned.

"No need. You've seen how my research team dresses. Though you might stand out if you dressed in shorts in the offices."

She laughed.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Too bad.

"Where do you live? I can give you a ride."

She hesitated.

"You can think of it as more research," I cajoled. "Who knows- maybe I don't use the turn signal. Scandalous."

She laughed again, her whole face lighting up with it.

"Fine. You've convinced me."

"Good," I said smugly.

I took the elevator straight down to the garage level.

I used a car service sometimes, but I liked driving myself better. Probably a symptom of control issues, but I was cool with that.

Jordan stopped as she took in the car.

"What is that?" she asked, eyes wide.

"You like it?" I ran a hand over the shiny roof. "It's not for sale quite yet, but I couldn't resist taking one for myself. It's electric and also has some solar capabilities. Probably out in production by next year some time."

It was beautiful to my eyes. Sleek and low to the ground, but practical enough to actually drive.

"Gorgeous. Wish I knew more about cars so I could properly compliment it."

"No, gorgeous sounds just perfect. But what about the car?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes as she got into the car.

I grinned in response as I slid in behind the steering wheel.

"Where to?"

She gave me her address, absently caressing the leather interior of the car as she looked around.

"That's the look," I murmured as I pulled out from the underground garage.

"What?" she asked absently.

"The look that men get cars like this for." She glanced over at me. "Don't get me wrong. A good car is nice in its own right. But that look a woman gets when she appreciates it...it's not a bad reason to get one."

"Not all women are immediately drawn to shiny new things."

I shrugged.

"True. And not all men are drawn to miniskirts. But women keep wearing them."

"Yeah, but the disparity in investment is pretty vast."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But at least the car has a practical use beyond attracting the opposite sex."

"A mini on a hot day is pretty practical. But I get your point." She looked out the window as I drew up to the curb in front of her apartment complex. "Thanks for the ride."

"Any time."

I watched until she was in the building before pulling away from the curb.

The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her. And she definitely appealed to my wolf side.

Maybe it was time to stop fucking around.

I mulled that over on the drive to my own place.

The idea wasn't as scary as I thought it would be.

Chapter 4

Jordan

Skittles was a little miffed at me when I got back to the apartment.

"Come on boy. Don't be a drama queen."

He turned his nose up at me.

Hmmm.

Time to break out the big guns.

I opened the cupboard and took out a bag of his favorite treats.

His little ears perked up as I shook the bag.

"How about a treat?" I shook one out into my hand.

He looked over his shoulder at me from where he was lying on his doggy bed.

"Fine. But two is your limit." I shook out another one in my hand.

He pranced over to me and took each one daintily before gobbling them up like the little monster he was.

"Forgiven?"

He barked and licked my hand, snuggling up to me.

If only all relationships were so easy.

I scooped him up and took him into the bedroom with me. All I wanted was to pull on my pjs and climb into bed.

The day had been full and I definitely felt like I had a better grasp on Curt Beckett than I had before. My view of him had definitely been colored by what he showed the media. Billionaire bad boy who liked to party and travel with his new flavor of the week.

I knew he had to be intelligent, but knowing it and experiencing it were two different animals. He hadn't ever given a real interview, so all I'd had to go on was what everyone else had to go on. The pictures of excess and the beautiful people.

But nobody caught the hard work that he put in, the razor sharp mind, the thoughtful person behind that handsome face.

I could feel that this article was going to be something special. It would humanize him in a way he might not be ready for.

Because in the short time I'd spent with him so far, he didn't strike me as someone who particularly wanted to be in the spotlight. It seemed more like a chore.

Of course, I was basing all of this on one day.

We'd see what the rest of the week brought.

What I needed to focus on was keeping my thoughts out of the gutter.

Just as pictures and snippets of video didn't do his mind any favors, neither did it capture the sheer charisma of his presence. He just had that something extra that had women turning their heads wherever he went.

I'd noticed it in the women in his office and the ones on his research and development team. Young, old, didn't matter.

Their eyes were drawn to him like a magnet.

"I hope I wasn't staring at him with that sickeningly sweet dreamy eyed look some of those girls had on their faces, Skittles." Skittles cocked his head at me. "Yeah, I know. I'm not really that type, but this guy...he brings it out in you."

And he'd been so attentive all day. Even when he was doing other things I'd catch him checking up on me quickly, a questioning look to make sure I was still OK.

"I refuse to join the bandwagon Skittles. It's just not a good look."

He sighed and put his head back down on his front paws.

"Fine, I'll shut up about it. Time for bed anyway."

I turned off the light and lay down.

Only six more days.

I'd stay professional if it killed me.

Damn it.

I got up early again the next morning, ready to go through all of it all over again.

While I was drinking my tea, I realized Curt had probably already worked out before I'd even woken up.

The man was a machine.

I dressed in a pair of slacks and a nice sweater, figuring it was probably a good compromise between the formal wear in Forward's offices and the sweatpants in research and development.

Assuming the today was the same as yesterday anyway.

Loading up my backpack, I fed Skittles and left my apartment.

I definitely needed the walk again.

My nerves were calmer but other parts of me were way too excited to see Curt again.

Probably what I needed was to run a marathon, not a brisk walk in to work.

When I got to the building, I walked passed the desk I'd stopped at before in the lobby and rode the elevator up.

Miranda smiled at me when I got to her desk.

"Mr. Beckett said you could go right on in, Ms. Matthews."

"Thank you," I said, smiling back.

This time, I wasn't surprised to find him yelling at the television screen from his seat on the couch.

Taking out my notebook, I sat down on one of the armchairs and looked at the screen for a moment to find he was still playing the same game.

Deciding it would keep, I started going through my notes from yesterday.

I still had to go through the recordings I'd made, but I was planning on saving them and listening to them all again when the week was over to refresh my memory.

"One of these days those kids are going down."

I looked up from the page.

"Huh?"

"We play against these kids who just always whip our butts. Really riles up my competitive streak."

"Who's we?"

"Just some buddies of mine from high school. It's part of how we keep in touch. Sleep well?" he moved over to his desk and sat down, looking at me questioningly.

"Yup. Though I did have to give Skittles two treats to get him over his mad at me."

"Hmm. Maybe you should bring him with you tomorrow. Or you could go home early. I wouldn't want to come between a woman and her dog."

I smiled at how seriously he'd said that, though the twinkle in his eye let me know it was partly tongue in cheek.

"I don't know about bringing him. This doesn't seem like a pet friendly environment."

"Well, call it one of the perks of being the boss. And owning the building. If I say you can bring your dog, you can."

"Good thing you only wield your power for good. At least as far as I can tell."

"I'm sorry, the dungeons are off-limits to the press. But I can assure you all of our prisoners are kept in excellent health. We even allow them outside once a month."

I chuckled but felt a little more serious as I thought about it.

"The thing is, you could buy quite a lot with the kind of money you have. How do you stop it from going to your head?"

He crossed his arms as he tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

"I suppose you just keep good people around you. Family, friends, people who don't let you get away with shit that people you pay might let you get away with. Pack helps with that too. Hard to be a big shot when everyone knows every stupid thing you did as a kid."

"Isn't that the truth," I said under my breath.

His smile let me know he'd heard me.

He tilted his head back down and looked at me. "I definitely did more than my fair share of stupid ass shit, though that period of my life didn't last too long. My parents came down on me hard and I soon realized how idiotic I was being." He shrugged. "That was a lesson I haven't forgotten. I make sure I have people I trust around me to keep me level. Of course, having my ass handed to me by children every morning doesn't hurt either," he added with a smile.

I felt as if I'd caught a glimpse of the man deep inside.

"Fair enough. I think I'd still become a crazy dictator. Maybe have everyone in the building dye their hair to match mine. Very _Children of the Corn_ and I'd be totally fine with that."

Oops.

Sometimes my inner thoughts just popped out when I was feeling too comfortable.

And when the heck did I start feeling comfortable around Curt Beckett, famous billionaire werewolf playboy?

I felt a little trickle of relief as he laughed.

"Remind me to run fast and far if ever you gain that kind of influence."

"Will do."

And then the first meeting of the day started when an older black gentleman dressed in a dapper suit came in.

This round of meetings was just as fascinating as the day before, with Curt just as interesting to watch as a live play. Because a performance was exactly what he was giving.

He could have easily gone into acting if this whole take over the world with his empire thing hadn't worked out.

By the time lunch time rolled around, I was starting to get hints of the specific shape my story was going to take.

"Any preferences for lunch?" Curt asked after we were alone in his office again.

"No, I'm easy. But you don't have to devote your lunch time every day to me too. We can just meet up after."

It would help me keep some much needed distance.

"No, I enjoy having lunch with you. Chinese or Turkish?"

How could I say no to such an easy and honest answer?

I was such a sucker.

"Turkish sounds good."

We sat down on the couches to wait for the food to arrive.

"Want to play a game?"

"A game?"

"Sure. How about tennis? I have a Wii here. The physicality is good to get the brain going sometimes."

Why not?

He turned it on and gave me a slim white controller to play with while he picked up his own.

"Just warning you, I haven't played a video game in forever. And I was never very good at them."

"Don't worry about it. This is just for fun. I mean, unless you want to wager on it?" He turned to me with raised brows.

"Nice try. That's a sucker bet if I ever heard one."

He chuckled, not denying my assessment.

"Just swing it like you would a racket."

"Got it."

The game started.

It took me a couple of tries to get the hang of it, but soon we were hitting it back and forth for extended periods of time.

And it was fun.

Maybe I should get one for the apartment.

By the time the food arrived, I was laughing as I beat Curt.

"Ha! Take that!"

"I think I might have created a monster," he said, groaning.

"You're just a sore loser."

"Probably."

We abandoned the game in favor of the kabobs and rice, which were as delicious as they smelled. And again, came in regular takeout containers.

Which I appreciated.

We dug into the food. I also appreciated the fact that he ordered enough so I would actually be full. It was kind of a hassle sometimes to pretend I ate less than I did in front of normal people.

Weres burned a lot of calories, and I was no exception.

Afterwards, we went back down to meet with the research and development team.

I was sucked in all over again, not completely understanding, but getting the gist of the issues and absorbing the different personalities that were all working together.

Things got heated at one point between a younger Asian man and an older woman with a riot of curls. Curt stepped in before it got too out of hand and told them both to work on the different solutions they were proposing and to present them by the end of the week.

He was a good mediator. Sitting back and letting everyone speak around him, adding his two cents when he had them to give, but letting them talk through things without interfering most of the time.

One particular employee was also more than a little smitten with Curt. He acted oblivious to the extra attention and fawning, but I found it difficult to believe that someone so perceptive wouldn't pick up on those signals she was throwing out.

Shrugging mentally, I was quiet as we rode the elevator back up to his office.

"I'm just going to be going through some more paperwork again tonight. Feel free to head out so Skittles isn't miffed tonight."

"I'll take it. Thanks."

"Sure. Would you like a ride home? I could use the break."

I sincerely doubted that. He was as fresh now as he'd been when I'd first seen him in the morning.

"No, I'm fine. I can walk."

He frowned.

"Walk? These aren't exactly the safest streets to be walking at night alone."

"Helps me clear my head. And I've never had any issues yet."

"Alright. I'll walk you."

Despite my protests, he put his jacket back on and followed me out to the elevator.

"Fine. You can drive me," I said exasperated. "It'll waste less of your time."

"This isn't a waste of my time. But if you want to drive, we can."

So we did. He dropped me off in front of my building with a wave.

Yes, it was irritating.

But a part of me enjoyed the attention and the care.

Stupid mushy part.

Sighing, I went inside.

Tomorrow was another day.

The next day, I brought Skittles with me.

Normally, I wouldn't have dreamed of bringing him despite the invitation. But I figured Curt kind of deserved it after last night.

Yes, it was passive aggressive.

And yes, I was fine with that.

As I walked through the lobby with Skittles strutting along beside me, people gave me some looks, but nobody stopped me until I was almost to the elevators.

"Excuse me! Miss Matthews!"

I stopped and turned to find the grandmotherly woman hurrying after me.

"I sincerely apologize, but pets aren't allowed in this building."

"Mr. Beckett said I could bring the dog. Don't worry- I'll let him know you tried to stop me."

I felt a little bad as she sputtered, but got on the elevator anyway.

Wow.

A little bit of power and straight to my head it went.

Maybe I _was_ a frustrated dictator on the inside.

I stepped off the elevator and walked through the executive floor to Curt's office again.

Nobody stopped me. Probably a combination of having seen me before and the fact that though Skittles was big in spirit, he was pretty easily overlooked due to his size.

Miranda stared down at the dog as I stopped in front of her desk.

"What a cutie!"

She came around and crouched down to pet him.

He loved the attention, the little ham.

"You can go right on in," she said, giving Skittles a little pat.

"Great, thank you."

She didn't try to stop me.

Maybe she figured her boss could deal with it.

Curt was once again in front of the television, shooting and cursing at the kids he played against. I wondered if they knew exactly who's butt they were kicking every morning before school.

I was expecting Skittles to be wary of Curt, at the very least.

To be honest, I was kind of looking forward to Curt having to win him over.

But as soon as I took him off his leash, the little idiot streaked across the room and jumped onto the couch next to Curt, snuggling in against him.

And Curt just patted his head and kept playing.

Did nothing come hard to the man?

Rolling my eyes, I went over and sat down next to him.

Skittles met my eyes.

"Traitor," I whispered at him.

He was undeterred.

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms and tilted my head back, closing my eyes.

I'd just rest my eyes until he was done.

"Tired?"

I jerked awake, completely disoriented.

Curt was leaning over me, his green eyes laughing.

"No, I'm fine," I said, straightening, trying to regain my dignity while discretely checking if I'd drooled.

I checked the time and sighed in relief as I realized only twenty minutes had passed.

"Uh huh," he said, scratching Skittles as he cuddled him against his chest.

Luckily, his first meeting of the day arrived.

And he had Skittles in his lap for all of it.

After the second meeting, I had to say something.

"Are you fantasizing that you're a Bond villain? Because you need a cat for that."

He laughed.

"Maybe. But I think I like Skittles better than I would any cat."

Skittles let out a little sigh of contentment.

Just remember which side your bread is buttered on buddy.

Lunch time rolled around and Curt insisted on ordering something from a dog bakery that was just down the street.

"You're spoiling him. He's already a diva."

"If he gets to be too much for you, I can take him off your hands. He could be Forward's mascot."

"Don't get any ideas about stealing my dog," I warned.

But I couldn't deny how cute they looked together. His bigness only emphasized how small Skittles was and vice versa.

Aaaaagh! Why did he have to be so adorable?

Skittles decided the research team was just there to pet him too, so he spent the whole time moving from person to person, absorbing all the attention.

Plus side, there weren't any heated arguments.

It was difficult to get too angry when you were petting something so cute.

On the way back up to the elevator, he conked out in my arms, finally deciding he wanted to be with me again.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Curt asked casually.

"Just the usual." Go home and face plant in bed with Skittles.

"I have a charity function to go to and no date. Would you like to go with me? Get a feel for what that kind of thing is like? Keep me from being too bored with all the stuffed shirts?"

The reporter in me said go. But the woman was a little hesitant to get even more personally involved.

Just a couple more days and Curt was going to be out of my life.

Did I really want to get more attached than I already was?

"Please? It's at the museum, so we can walk around and look at the exhibits at least. And they'll have food."

He gave me puppy dog eyes that I was sure had landed more than woman in trouble.

I gave up.

"Fine. But what should I wear? Is it black tie?"

"Yes. I can get you something to wear if you don't have anything."

"No, thank you. Too shades of _Pretty Woman_ for me."

And too much blurring of the lines.

"Beautiful prostitutes with hearts of gold are kind of thin on the streets these days," he said wryly.

I rolled my eyes.

"One of the weirdest fantasies I've ever seen. Also reiterates the knight in shining armor has to come save the poor woman. Don't like the message. Of course, I thought Belle was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome in _Beauty and the Beast_."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"I can see your point. But at least she was a reader."

"True," I conceded. "And I'll still watch and enjoy it. I just think that kind of messaging to little girls may not be the best."

"Noted. I will steer any future nieces away. Or at least lecture them about feminism afterwards."

I laughed.

"As it should be."

He smiled.

"How about I pick you up at seven? Is that enough time for you to be ready?"

That would give me just under two hours.

"Sure, that's fine."

"I have some stuff to take care of before I head out, or I'd drive you back. But I'll have the car service take you."

"Great, thanks."

He looked a little surprised.

"What, no argument this time?"

"I need the time to get ready, so I'm letting it slide."

He held his hands up.

"Not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Good idea."

With the promise to be ready at seven, I stepped out of the building and into the sleek black car that was waiting to take me home.

I always thought luxury like this would be easy to get used to, but it actually made me a little uncomfortable.

Which was kind of a waste now that I thought about it.

I gave myself a mental slap.

Nothing wrong with enjoying it for a couple of days.

I'd be back to the normal grind in no time.

Chapter 5

Jordan

As soon as I got home, I started stripping to get in the shower.

I didn't have a whole lot of time to mess around here.

After the shower, which included shaving everything important, I opened my closet and looked around.

It wasn't every day that I was invited to something black tie, but it had happened a couple times before for work.

I pulled out the long, dark green gown that I had set aside for those occasions.

It had been a definite splurge, but I'd already worn it a couple times.

Did it really justify the price tag?

No. But that was my story and I was sticking to it, thank you very much.

Besides, it made my boobs look amazing.

I pulled on my nice lacy thong, something I only pulled out when my outfit would show underwear lines. And I couldn't wear a bra with the dress.

Then I started on my makeup, doing the full shebang with dramatic liner and a red lip. I curled my hair and brushed it out so I'd have waves and then parted it to the side, pinning it back on one side with a crystal hair comb my mother had given me.

I stepped into the dress and pulled it up, adjusting the straps over my shoulders and my breasts in the bra that was built in.

A simple black heeled sandal and my black clutch and I was done.

I did a check in the full length mirror on my closet door.

I wasn't a model, but I wouldn't embarrass myself tonight.

Satisfied, I walked out to the living room and glanced at the clock.

Still had ten minutes to spare.

My phone rang.

And it was my mother.

Sighing, I picked it up, pretty sure what this was going to be about.

"You're doing a story on Curt Beckett and you still haven't called me?"

"Hi Mom."

"Don't 'hi Mom' me! What is he like? Is he as handsome in person? Is he tall? Oh, I hope he's tall! It would be a shame if he was shorter than you."

"He's...normal-ish. Yes, he's handsome, and no he's not shorter than me. Not that that matters."

"Nonsense! There's no ring on his finger and you're a beautiful woman with a good head on her shoulders."

"And you're kind of biased," I said, smiling despite myself.

"It's not biased if it's true."

And then she went rambling off about all my accomplishments.

I made appropriate sounds as I got a glass of water and drank.

This was why I always invested in long-wearing lipstick.

At seven on the dot, there was a knock on the door.

"Alright Mom, I'm going to have to hang up," I said as I opened the door.

She said something else, but I didn't catch it, too busy ogling a Curt Beckett dressed in a tuxedo.

Wow.

It fit him like a glove, highlighting all that muscled goodness.

He looked me up and down, taking me in just as I'd taken him in.

"You look beautiful."

The dark look in his eyes let me know he was being sincere.

And that he liked what he saw.

Danger. We needed to leave my apartment now, before I did something I'd regret later.

A little voice inside asked me if I'd really regret it.

And I bitch slapped that little brat.

Curt

When Jordan opened the door, I couldn't help but stare.

She'd always come to the office in practical clothes, completely buttoned up. And I'd still found it difficult to look away from her.

Dressed to the nines...wow.

The dress she was wearing fit her torso tightly, with a deep v that showed off her cleavage.

I had the immediate urge to lick my way up the smooth, pale skin there.

It hugged her small waist and the tops of her hips. The skirt had a slit cut up almost to her hip, just short of indecent, showing of one long, slim leg. Her delicate feet were clad in a pair of stilettos.

I immediately imagined her in nothing but the shoes.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she said with a slightly hesitant smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

I smiled at the reluctant admiration in her voice.

And the slight change in her scent that said she found me attractive.

I took a deep breath as I stepped inside her apartment, looking around curiously.

It was...comfortable.

Lots of colors and cushions, but nothing glaring. It was mellow, a nice retreat.

Very different from my own apartment here in the city, but I found I liked it.

It matched her.

"Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you. We should probably get going."

"Sure. Just let me grab my shrug."

As I waited, I looked through the photos she had displayed on her bookshelves, alongside little trinkets I assumed she'd gotten during her travels. It was an eclectic mix, which didn't surprise me.

She would be the kind to go for the unusual.

"Ready," she said, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor.

"Great."

I led her down to the car, which I'd parked in front of her building. I'd gone for a different car this time, one that wasn't so low to the ground.

She stopped for a moment as she took in the fire engine red vehicle.

"Very pretty."

"It's not as low. I didn't want you to have a hard time getting in and out of it."

She smiled warmly at me and I felt a little flutter in my chest.

Just like a schoolgirl.

"That was really considerate of you. Thank you."

I nodded, opening the door for her and offering my hand.

She took it, sliding her much smaller, softer hand into mine and gracefully lowering herself into the seat.

The slit in the dress parted, revealing the entirety of her leg.

Oh, man.

I carefully tucked her dress in before closing the door.

And then I adjusted my pants before circling over to the driver's side.

That dress was dangerous in the best way possible.

"I forgot to ask- what is the charity?" Jordan asked as I drove us.

"It's an initiative to keep all the city's children fed."

She nodded.

"How many of these kinds of things do you go to?"

"A few here and there. I don't think I really need to sit and have dry chicken to help out, but the publicity is good for the company, so I try to keep a good balance."

We chatted a little more until we got to the place.

A crowd of photographers was already gathered outside, roped off from the entrance so attendees would have an unobstructed path in.

I handed my keys to the valet along with a tip and circled around to help Jordan out of the car.

She hesitated as she looked at all the photographers.

"We don't have to stop. We can just walk right in."

"Are you sure? Isn't the whole point for you to be seen?"

I shrugged.

"I can afford to do what I want. Especially if all this makes you uncomfortable."

She nodded, smiling at me weakly.

"Sorry, I didn't really think about this part. I'm more at home on the other side of the ropes."

"No apology necessary."

It was actually refreshing to be with someone who didn't want the press coverage.

I helped her out of the car, offering her my arm.

She took it, letting me lead her passed the crowd.

"Mr. Beckett! Mr. Beckett!"

"Who is that?"

"Who are you with Mr. Beckett?"

"Curt!"

I ignored the voices calling out, smiling and waving as I walked passed them with Jordan.

It wasn't a long way to the entrance, and I could almost hear Jordan breathe a sigh of relief when we were inside.

Various people came up to me on the way over to our seats, but I tried to keep the interactions short so we could sit down.

We finally made it to our table and I pulled Jordan's seat out for her.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked in her ear.

"Just some water please."

"I'll be right back."

Jordan

I finally had a chance to take a breath as Curt left to get our drinks.

Stupidly, it hadn't occurred to me that we'd be photographed or that people would be curious about me at all.

I'd stopped seeing Curt as the person in the media I'd been aware of and started seeing him as just a person I knew.

This was definitely a wake up call.

It was also disconcerting to have people be polite to me when Curt introduced me and then completely ignore me in favor of him.

Made me feel like I was just arm candy.

Which was definitely a new experience for me.

However, in their defense, it wasn't as if Curt was known for long term relationships anyway. They probably thought I was just another one of his dates, here today and gone tomorrow.

Even though they weren't correct, I would be gone in just a couple of days, so I guess they weren't too far off.

"Excuse me."

I looked up into Malia Turner's distinctive topaz eyes.

Over six feet in the heels she was wearing, the model painted a sensual but classy picture in the slinky metallic gown she'd chosen for the night. Her dark hair fell in a glossy sheet down her back and her face was made up subtly, highlighting her natural beauty.

She was also one of the women Curt had been known to hit the town with.

"Yes?"

"Are you here with Curt?"

I nodded warily.

She smiled.

"Just wanted to give you a word of warning. He's a real sweetheart, but he isn't the settling down type. Don't get too attached."

I raised a brow at that, not knowing how to respond.

Didn't this kind of thing only happen in movies? Maybe she was confused between what was real and what wasn't after being in the spotlight for so long.

"Have a good night," she tossed over her shoulder with an insincere smile as she sashayed away, drawing more than a few admiring looks.

OK.

I guess it was par for the course for this surreal night.

Soon after, Curt was back with our drinks.

"Thanks," I said, taking my water and gulping some down.

"Do you want to look around at the exhibits?"

"Sure. That sounds like fun."

We joined the small crowd that had the same idea, moving from one ancient artifact to another. I'd only ever been to the museum when it was packed with other people.

It almost felt like a private showing.

Eventually, we had to take our seats again, though I could have spent the whole time looking around at all of the interesting displays.

The other couples who'd bought seats at our table were already there and I tensed up a little as we sat down. But soon we were all chatting easily and I relaxed somewhat.

At least they were normal enough, apart from the no doubt ridiculously expensive jewelry and designer gowns.

Dinner was served while someone spoke about the charity and thanked everyone for being there. And then a stand up comedian took the stage, trying to deliver through all the of the clanking of silverware on plates and clinking of glasses.

I really felt for the guy.

Dessert was amazing. Triple chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream.

Almost made everything else worth it.

Then a popular band went up to play and I sat back to take it in. It was almost like having a private concert, there were so many fewer people here than at any live performance I'd ever been to.

They kicked into a slow song and people started filling the dance floor off to the side.

"Do you want to dance?" Curt asked in a low voice, knowing I'd be able to hear it.

"I'm not the best dancer," I hedged.

"No problem. It's a slow dance- we just shuffle around."

Before I could think up a different excuse, I somehow found myself being led onto the dance floor.

Alright, I could do this. Just shuffle around.

And don't have any unprofessional thoughts.

Piece of cake.

Curt pulled me close as soon as we found a spot, his hands resting low on my hips. I automatically rested mine on his shoulders.

I kept my eyes on my feet as we started moving along with everyone else.

"You don't have to concentrate so hard. It kind of defeats the purpose," Curt said, humor clear in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to save your feet."

"Let me worry about my feet. Why don't you look up and relax."

I sighed and did what he wanted.

He met my eyes as I looked up and smiled at me.

"You're smiling now, but trust me, being stepped on with a stiletto is no joke."

He grinned, pulling me in even closer.

"Well, I'll just have to protect myself. If you're close enough, it'll be harder for you to mortally wound my feet."

And that was how I found myself plastered against Curt Beckett's front, my head resting against his shoulder.

And yes, I was too weak to pull back.

He was warm and hard against my front, his arms strong and comforting around me. And he smelled amazing.

I let myself sink into him and stopped worrying about stepping on his feet or being inappropriate. I'd go back to a respectable distance after we finished dancing.

One song led to another and Curt made no move to create any space between us or move off the floor. He rested his cheek against my head.

With my heels on, I wasn't as much shorter than him as I usually was, which made everything about how we fit together entirely too comfortable.

"Jordan?"

"Hmmm?"

"Look at me."

I pulled my head back and opened my eyes to look up into his face.

The glimpse I caught of his eyes was dark and intense. If he'd leveled that look at me at any other time, I would have run for the hills.

But a glimpse was all I caught because in the next instant, he was leaning down to kiss me.

My heart jumped at the first touch of his lips on mine, the heat and softness like a slap to my face, drawing me out of the dreamy almost trance I'd fall into.

He deepened the kiss, stroking my tongue with his, one of his hands sliding up and pressing into my upper back, meeting bare skin.

And I kissed him back.

With a clear mind and voluntarily, I kissed him back, one of my hands sliding into the cool silk of his hair while the other cupped the back of his neck.

I could feel his own heart racing where it was pressed against mine and the hard bulge below where his excitement pushed against my stomach.

I completely forgot that we weren't alone, but out in public with curious eyes all around us.

Curt finally pulled back, his cheeks flushed with color, his lips wet and swollen, his eyes dark as he stared down at me and licked his lips.

"Let's get out of here."

"Yes."

We passed by our table to pick up my my shrug and then Curt took my hand and started clearing a path through the room to the front door.

A couple of people tried to stop him so they could speak with him, but he wasn't having it, nodding at them and telling them he had a prior engagement.

We were out of the room and in the car in less time than I could have expected.

The car was quiet as Curt drove. I didn't have enough presence of mind to note where he was going, but it wasn't far. He kept my hand in his the whole time, his thumb rubbing against my palm.

He pulled the car into an underground garage and we took the elevator up to the penthouse floor.

His apartment was what I'd expected it to be. Sleek and modern with a gorgeous view of the city lights, it was a bachelor pad to top all bachelor pads.

But he didn't give me much time to look around, not even bothering to turn on any lights as he lead me through the spacious living area and into the bedroom.

He did stop to turn on the light in the bedroom.

"I want to be able to see."

That sent a little zing of trepidation and heat right through me.

His bedroom was as sleek as what I'd seen of the apartment, with a king size bed that commanded attention.

Again, I didn't have much time to look around.

Curt took me in his arms and kissed me, his hands running gently up and down my back and sides, sending tingles cascading through me. His kiss was slow and sensual, his lips soft and deliberate, not rushed like I half expected.

He brushed my shrug off my shoulders and unerringly found the zipper at the side of my dress. He pulled it down, gently brushing the straps down my arms.

The dress caught at the curve of my hips and he gave it a little tug to send it falling down to pool on the floor at my feet.

He groaned as his hands found bare skin.

And the kiss turned voracious.

He turned us and brought us down on the bed, his hands everywhere at once.

My arms, my sides, my breasts, legs. He let out a frustrated sound as his fingers found my thong, which barely covered anything, but even that was too much for him.

He didn't bother pulling it down my legs.

With a quick tug, the flimsy thing was ripped right off me.

And yes, that was insanely hot.

Then his hands were everywhere again, touching every part of me, brushing between my legs. I opened up my thighs wider to feel him better and he made an approving sound in the back of his throat.

Taking his mouth away from mine, he moved down to kiss my neck, suckling little kisses in a trail leading down to my breasts.

Rubbing first one, then the other with his cheek, he took one of my nipples in his mouth and sucked.

I hummed, spearing my fingers through his hair and holding his head to me as he switched between breasts, his hand caressing the side of my hip, my inner thigh.

I protested as he left them, but he kissed his way down my stomach, tonguing my navel and sucking on the slight curve of my lower abdomen.

And then he moved lower, pushing my legs up and out so he could get his arms under them.

And I suddenly remembered the light was on full blast.

With his face just inches from my most private area.

I instinctively reached down to cover myself.

He looked up at me, taking my wrists in his hands.

"Feeling shy?" he asked softly, kissing the inside of my thigh.

"I know. It's a little stupid, but I'm not exactly the promiscuous type." I felt silly with my hands covering myself, but I couldn't bring myself to move them away.

"Maybe if it wasn't so bright in here?" I said in a small voice.

He didn't say that he would be able to see clearly anyway, just as I would, our eyes sharp in the dark. With another warm kiss on my thigh, he got up and shut off the light.

The comforting blanket of darkness fell over me.

He took the time to take of his jacket and shirt before getting back into position.

He looked just as good underneath that shirt as I'd expected.

Ridges of muscle along his abdomen and well developed pectoral muscles, with arms that were just as well muscled, veins running along his forearms.

And he didn't overdo the grooming, his chest covered in a fine layer of hair that narrowed down on his abdomen, leading to a silky looking happy trail that disappeared into his pants.

What I hadn't expected was that he had tattoos.

One covered his right pectoral, shoulder, and upper arm in an intricate design. The other was a line of symbols high up on his rib cage, peeking out from his side. They were both dark, probably black though I couldn't tell for sure in this light.

He got back on the bed and reached up to slide a hand down my torso.

I reached out to touch his skin, barely getting a chance to comb my fingers through his chest hair.

"You can have your turn later," he said, getting back into position between my legs.

My protest was lost as his mouth settled onto my now vulnerable center.

His tongue was hot as he used his thumbs to spread my lips and lick a long line up to my throbbing clitoris.

I groaned, settling back as he settled in on my clit, flicking it with his tongue.

I shut my eyes, my hands finding his arms where they were wrapped around my thighs. I squeezed the muscles in his forearms as I turned my head to the side, feeling the heat already gathering inside.

He took his time, licking and sucking my lips, using his fingers to lightly rub the sensitive grooves on either side. Then he went back to my clitoris, this time staying there.

I opened my eyes to look down, taking in the picture his dark head and broad shoulders made between my spread thighs, his bulk making me look delicate in comparison.

I let my head fall back on the pillow, the visual coupled with what he was doing with his tongue enough to push me over.

I came silently, my fingernails digging into his skin, my eyes shut tightly, my thighs tensing as the waves of tingling heat crashed through my body.

Wow.

I slowly settled back into my skin, relaxing back into the mattress as Curt licked at me, the soft strokes of his tongue comforting.

With one last lick, he let go of me and stood up.

I watched as he shucked the rest of his clothes, his glittering eyes raking over my naked and splayed body.

If I wasn't enjoying the afterglow, I might have been able to muster up some embarrassment.

As it was, I just ogled him back.

His muscled torso gave way to lean hips and equally muscled thighs. But I took that in peripherally as my eyes were drawn to his hard cock.

Thick and long, it was definitely proportional to the rest of his body.

He got back on the bed between my legs, kneeling.

I reached down to take a firm grip of his shaft, squeezing it, enjoying the silky feel of the skin and the hardness underneath.

He let me stroke him for a little while before pulling out of my hand.

"I want to be inside you when I come."

I felt the zing of that statement go right through me.

"I'm not in the right part of my cycle so we should be fine."

Weres were only fertile at very specific times. And since we couldn't contract infections in that way, that also wasn't an issue.

He stilled above me.

"God, I forgot about that. No condom necessary." He stared down at me. "It's going to be difficult not to embarrass myself."

I smiled.

"Trust me- no matter what happens, you won't have embarrassed yourself."

He chuckled, lowering his body down on top of mine. Propping himself up on one arm, he used his other hand to aim his cock.

"Ready?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Yup- ready and willing."

He grinned at me before looking back down.

The broad head stretched my entrance as he pushed in slowly.

It had been a while since I'd done this and he wasn't exactly small. I felt every centimeter as it went in.

He pushed one of my legs up higher before going in deeper, thrusting and pulling back slowly, easing into me.

A few more thrusts and he was buried inside me to the hilt, both of us groaning at the feel of it.

"Good?" he asked, smoothing my hair back from my face.

I nodded, pushing my hips up against him experimentally.

He made a humming sound, pulling out and thrusting back in.

I gripped his shoulders as he started an even in and out rhythm. Reaching down, he angled my hips so that every thrust rubbed him against my clit.

I tightened my grip on his shoulders as the feeling of his thrusts intensified.

I also tried not to think about how much practice he had to make him this good.

Kneading his skin, I wrapped my calves around the backs of his thighs, closing my eyes to concentrate on the orgasm that was building again.

"Faster," I gasped, grinding up against him.

He didn't have to be told twice.

Speeding up, his thrusts became harder and less coordinated, sweat dripping off him to land on my chest, the muscles in his whole body clenching and releasing with his movements.

It was raw and raunchy, completely real and exactly what I wanted.

I made a frustrated sound as I skated on the edge, so close my mouth was watering.

"Shh." Curt reached between us and flicked my clit.

I gasped in a breath, my eyes flying open as the touch threw me over the edge.

I heard Curt groan as he seated himself deep inside me, his shaft kicking hard as I felt the heat of his release.

I might have died right then. At least for a moment.

My hands fell off his shoulders limply as my eyes slowly focused on his tight face, his jaw clenched and his hair falling over his forehead as the last of his orgasm rolled through him.

With a sigh, his eyes opened lazily, sated and warm.

Leaning down, he kissed me before lowering his body onto mine.

I wrapped my arms around his damp back, enjoying the heat and weight of him.

"Too heavy?" he murmured, stroking a hand down my side.

"No," I said, tightening my arms around him.

I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the aftermath, drifting off before I knew it.

Curt

I felt Jordan's body go limp in sleep.

Rising up off her carefully, I rolled to the side, wrapping an arm around her. Tucking her in next to me, I absently cupping the soft weight of her breast.

That had been...more than sex.

And I'd had enough sex to know.

Probably not as much as people might assume, but I definitely hadn't lived as a monk either.

I couldn't write Jordan off as a passing infatuation or just another fling.

Which worried me, because I sensed that she still hadn't really let her guard down. She was lying in my arms naked, but I still had the niggling feeling that she might slip right through my fingers.

I wrapped my arms around her and pushed my face into her neck, breathing in her scent, richer after everything we'd done.

Well, I'd just deal with it tomorrow.

I wasn't shy about going after what I wanted.

And I knew I wanted Jordan.

Chapter 6

Jordan

I woke up the next morning with a completely blank mind.

I stared up at the white ceiling, knowing I should really be remembering something important.

Taking a deep breath I turned my head and realized I wasn't in my own bed. And I could smell bacon and pancakes cooking.

The night before came flooding back to me mercilessly.

"Oh shit."

And like any responsible adult, I pulled the covers over my head.

This was not good.

Really, really, not good.

What had I been thinking?

I couldn't even blame it on the alcohol. I'd had a sum total of one drink with dinner.

Ugh.

I pushed the covers back down.

Hiding under the covers was not a long term plan, much as I wished it was.

Rolling out of bed, I went into the bathroom.

It was sleek and modern and expensive, pushing home the fact of exactly who'd I'd decided to have this major lapse of judgment with.

I opened a couple of drawers, hoping to find a toothbrush.

Ah-ha.

Small victories.

Opening up the package, I made quick use of it, avoiding my eyes in the mirror.

Then I used the toilet and hopped into the shower for a much needed washing.

Feeling a little more human, I swiped the robe hanging off the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it around myself.

No more delaying.

I walked out of the bedroom, the view of the city taking my attention just as it had last night.

Curt's bare, muscled back was turned to me as he flipped pancakes on the stove, pajama bottoms slung low on his hips, highlighting the dimples in his lower back. In the bright light of day, I could see his ink was indeed black.

My eyes automatically slipped down to his butt, confirming that it was also world class.

God, he made gorgeous picture.

I could almost forgive myself. I mean, I was only human.

Well, mostly.

He turned his head and saw me.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks."

He scooped the pancakes onto the platter that was already half full and placed it on the counter, circling around it to me.

"You didn't have to make breakfast."

"I was hungry, so I knew you would be too. Besides, I make a killer breakfast."

"It does smell amazing." I rubbed my hands nervously on the soft robe. "Hope it's OK that I borrowed your robe. I didn't feel like putting that dress back on."

"Looks better on you than it does on me when I bother wearing it."

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me warmly.

"Hungry?"

My stomach chose to rumble at that exact moment.

He laughed, pulling me over to one of the leather stools.

"Orange juice?"

"Yes, thank you."

I glanced at the time as we dug in.

Ten?!

"Oh, do you need to be at work?" I blurted out. Then took a moment. "Wait- I need to be at work!"

"Well, since your work is to follow me around for the time being and I'm not at work, I think you're fine. And the company will be equally fine if I go in a little late today."

I nodded, relaxing a little.

Alright.

I dug into the food, definitely doing it justice. I hadn't been able to eat a lot at dinner the night before because I'd been so nervous.

And we'd worked up an appetite since then.

We were just finishing up when Curt's phone rang.

He looked at the display and grabbed it.

"Sorry, I really have to take this."

"No problem."

He picked it up and moved over to a sleek couch in the living area.

"Hey, what's up?"

I listened with half an ear as I carried the dishes to the sink and looked around for the dishwasher.

The least I could do was the dishes.

"Congratulations! That's great! How is Sharon doing? How's the baby?"

The genuine joy in his face and in his voice brought a smile to mine as I scrubbed plates and glasses. I was sure there had to be a dishwasher in this high tech kitchen, but it was well-hidden.

I was just stacking the last of the clean dishes in the dish rack on the counter when Curt hung up the phone.

"That was my brother Remy- he and his wife just had a baby girl."

"Oh, that's great! Congratulations!" His enthusiasm was downright infectious.

"Change of plans. I'm going to Montana to visit for a few days and see my brand new niece."

I felt my stomach sink a little as I realized this was it then.

I guess I'd been expecting to give a more drawn out goodbye today after we'd spent it at his office for the last time.

It was probably for the best.

"OK. Just let me get dressed and I'll be right out of your hair."

I tightened the robe around myself and made a beeline for the bedroom.

"But you still have one more day of following me around. I thought you could come with me."

I stopped at the bedroom door and turned around.

"I don't think I'm supposed to go visit family with you, just get a feel for your day in the city."

He sauntered up and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Come on. If you refuse to use work as an excuse, how about just coming because I want you to? I'm sure my mother's making her famous black forest cake for the occasion. You'll think you died and went to heaven."

He gave me those irresistible puppy dog eyes.

"I don't think it's a good idea. Things are getting too...complicated..."

"You're thinking too hard. Just say yes and sort out the complications later. You do still have a day left with me for work. And admit it- you think I'm cute." He fluttered his lashes at me. "You'll hurt my feelings if you don't come."

I laughed like he wanted me to, my thinking brain again going out the window.

The damage was already done anyway.

What more harm could a quick trip do?

"OK, fine. I'll go pack my things."

"Perfect."

He hugged me tightly and then texted something on his phone.

"Just give me five minutes to pack and we'll stop by your place on the way to the airport."

"OK."

He was done and ready to go in no time. I borrowed some of his sweatpants and a t-shirt, rolling up the waist so the pants wouldn't fall off.

But his shoes wouldn't fit me, so I was still stuck with my heels.

Amazing look.

Curt waited in the car while I went up to my apartment and threw some things in a bag. I wasn't sure what to bring, but figured we were only going to be there a short time anyway.

I did take the time to change into jeans and a sweater.

Then we were off to the airport.

To add to the completely surreal turn my life had taken, we went straight onto the tarmac, bypassing security and all the hassle I'd come to expect from travel.

We drove straight up to a small private plane.

It was gorgeous inside, with cream colored leather seats and wood accents. There were tables in front of the seats and a full on kitchen to one side, with a door leading somewhere to the back.

The private plane was great and everything, but what I was really jealous of was the avoidance of airport security.

We took off pretty quickly.

"I'm just going to take the time on the plane to work, but there's a bed in the back if you want to sleep and food in the kitchen. I don't usually fly with attendants- feels a little odd with only me in here."

"That makes sense. But I think I'll catch up on some work too."

I'd brought my laptop with me for just that reason.

Taking a deep breath, I clicked on my email.

Oh...man.

I skimmed through the various news outlets that wanted a comment or an interview. It wouldn't take much for people to figure out who I was and my contact information was on Connect's site.

There was also something from Peter.

Band aid method was probably best.

I clicked on it.

The first thing in it was a link.

I clicked on that.

It took me to a well known gossip blog.

Where pictures of me with Curt at the charity event were plastered all over the screen.

I scrolled through.

Us walking down the carpet, him looking as handsome as usual and me looking like myself- pretty enough, nothing to turn too many heads.

Nothing too bad so far.

But then there were also pictures of us dancing inside, too close to be anything but suggestive.

And then a shot of us kissing.

Yup, denial was not an option.

My heart was pounding as I clicked back to the email.

What is going on? This is completely unprofessional!!! I'm paying you for a story not to start dating the guy! And to add insult to injury, you didn't even make sure we got the scoop!

CALL ME IMMEDIATELY!

I winced.

Oh boy.

No way I was calling until I could get some privacy, which would be a few hours yet.

I might have to start looking for a new job soon.

And good luck with that after this debacle.

I must have looked as sick as I felt because Curt reached across the table to cover my hand with his.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes. Yeah. Just work stuff." I forced a smile, though he didn't seem like he bought it.

But he got the idea that I didn't want to talk about it.

I felt a little faint and somewhat disembodied, thinking about all the hard work I'd done to get this far. All most likely ruined by a night of bad decision-making.

Good job me.

"I think I'm just going to nap," I said, closing my laptop.

"Alright. Do you want to use the bed?"

"No, no, here's fine."

I reclined the seat and closed my eyes. I could feel his attention on me, but when I didn't say anything else, the sound of the keys started up again.

I was so screwed.

I spent the rest of the flight trying to keep my mind blank, with varying degrees of success.

It was only as we were landing that my anxiety decided to take a different route.

I wasn't just going to meet Curt's family, I was probably going to meet his pack too. Including his father, Joseph Beckett. Just one of the most respected Alphas in the country.

No big deal.

And how was Curt going to introduce me? As the reporter who was doing a story on him, or...

I didn't even know what, everything was too new.

OK, now was not a good time to have a panic attack.

Shoving everything down inside, I tried to blank myself out again.

"Are we going straight to the doctor's?" I asked as we got into the rental car.

Wolves didn't go to the hospital unless they could help it, but any sizable pack had at least one doctor to take care of most health related issues.

Luckily, we usually tended to be as healthy as horses.

"No, we're going to my brother's place. Sharon decided to have the baby at home. Said she knew what she was doing since it's their third kid. Dr. Webber was on stand by, but one of Sharon's friends is also a midwife and she was there the whole time."

His brother's place turned out to be a gorgeous ranch style house on acres of property.

As soon as we parked, the front door burst open and a tiny body came running out.

"Uncle Curt! Uncle Curt! We have a little sister!"

Curt laughed, swinging the little boy into his arms and planting a kiss on one chubby cheek.

"I heard, Sammy. Is she cute?"

The little boy's face scrunched up adorably.

"Well...she's really small and kind of red. Mom says she has to grow into cute."

I snorted out a laugh and those big round eyes turned to me.

"Who's that? Is she your girlfriend? You have pretty hair."

"Thank you," I said seriously.

They probably all came out charming in this family.

Curt laughed again, closing the driver's door with his hip.

"That's my friend Jordan, you little flirt. Let's go in and take a look at the new addition to the family."

Friend.

Nice and safe. I'd take it.

Sammy wiggled down out of his hold and ran back to the open door.

"I'll show you!"

I followed Curt inside, where a small crowd was already gathered in the large living area.

"Curt!"

"You made it!"

"Give me a hug, sweetie."

The last was said by a good looking woman who appeared to be in her forties, but was probably in her sixties because we all tended to age well. She was dressed in slim jeans and a flannel shirt, her silver streaked brown hair caught up in a short ponytail.

She had the same dark green eyes Curt had.

Those sharp eyes focused on me over Curt's broad shoulder.

"Who's your friend?"

Curt stepped back and took my hand, pulling me forward.

"Mom, this is Jordan. Jordan, this is my mother."

"Nice to meet you," I said, sticking my hand out.

She looked down at my hand, but didn't reach for it.

My stomach sank a little.

Maybe I shouldn't have come...

She looked back up at me and shook her head, making an exasperated sound as she used my hand to pull me into a warm hug.

"We're not much for handshakes around here," she murmured into my ear.

Relieved, I laughed, hugging her back.

She was wiry and tough. Probably could wipe the floor with me.

She stepped back with a smile.

"Well, as good as it is to see you Curt, I know you're probably chomping at the bit to get a good look at little Ariah. She's inside with Sharon if you want to peek in."

Curt kissed his mother's cheek and took my hand.

"Just a quick peek."

He waved at everyone else there, but didn't introduce me, which was a relief. Leading me passed the curious onlookers and into the hallway, he stopped at a door at the very end.

He knocked on it softly and waited.

"Come in," a feminine voice called out.

He opened the door and stepped inside with me in tow.

A beautiful redhead was laying on the bed, propped up against a pile of pillows, her dewy face glowing as she looked down at the little bundle in her arms. A slightly older version of Curt had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, with the same joy on his face.

Sammy and a little towheaded toddler were crowded around them too.

I felt a little pang in my heart as I took in the happy family.

The man looked up and smiled, and I could immediately see the differences in their faces. He looked more like their mother than Curt did, but he had different colored eyes, an icy blue instead of the deep green I was so familiar with now.

"Hey!" He stood up and gathered Curt into a hug. They were about the same size, Curt maybe a smidgen taller. "I'm so glad you're here."

"What, you thought I'd miss the first girl? I was starting to think you could only make boys," Curt teased, slapping his brother on the back with a mile wide grin.

"She's beautiful. Takes after her mother." His happy eyes turned to me and he started a little. "Well, hello there. Stop being rude Curt and introduce your friend."

Curt pulled me forward.

"Sorry. This is Jordan. Jordan, this is my brother Remy, his wife Sharon, Sammy, Jamie, and that tiny little thing must be Ariah."

A chorus of happy hellos were directed toward me and I waved back.

"Do you want to hold her?" Sharon asked Curt.

"Could I?"

"Of course. I'm sure she'll have you wrapped around her little finger as quickly as she did your brother."

"No doubt," he murmured, taking the tiny baby into his arms.

Was there anything more heart melting than a big man holding a tiny baby?

I looked away from the picture they made and met the knowing look in Sharon's eyes with a weak smile.

"Hey there," Curt said to Ariah in a soft voice. "How did my ugly mug of a brother make something as beautiful as you?"

Everyone laughed as Remy rolled his eyes, the gentle ribbing not nearly harsh enough to get through his aura of happiness.

Curt walked over to me so I could look down at the baby.

Her eyes were open wide, impossibly long eyelashes framing them. She was red and a little scrunched just like her brother had described.

"She's beautiful."

And she was.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Oh, well, I couldn't-"

Before I could fully refuse, he'd already transferred the baby over.

Well versed in holding my little pack mates when I'd still lived near them, I automatically supported her head and back. Curt rubbed her little fist and she unclenched it just long enough to wrap her hand around his finger.

"Strong grip. Are you going to be a fighter, little Ariah?"

"Probably," Sharon said from the bed. "She's going to have to be to put up with her older brothers."

I looked up to see the two little boys wrestling on the bed, the younger one putting up a good fight despite the age and size difference.

"Sammy, what did I say about fighting with your little brother?"

Sammy froze and Jamie took the opportunity to bonk him on the nose with his small fist.

"Ouch!"

Curt covered his laugh with a cough and I covered my smile with my hand, watching Sharon and Remy both reign in their responses too.

Sammy glared at his brother, but didn't retaliate as he scooted away. Jamie sat there looking completely angelic.

That one was going to be trouble when he got older.

We stayed and chatted until Ariah started crying, obviously ready for another feeding.

"We'll let you rest," Curt said.

"Thank you for coming," Sharon said with a tired smile as Remy handed the baby back to her.

Curt waved goodbye as we left the bedroom.

"Why don't we head over to my place and get settled in? We'll probably be back over here for dinner- Mom usually cooks during a big family event and wants everyone together. You'll meet my other brother, Mark, tomorrow- he was hung up with work or he'd be here already."

I nodded.

Curt's family was great, but a little time to regroup sounded nice.

When we got back out to the living room, just Curt's mother and another man were in the living room, the rest of what I was assuming was their pack gone for the time being.

"Dad, it's good to see you."

The older man smiled and I saw the clear resemblance instantly. He also had Remy's icy eyes.

He pulled Curt into a bear hug.

"You don't come to visit enough," he said gruffly.

"I'll try to visit more," Curt said, and I guess his father thought he was as sincere as he sounded because he didn't pursue it.

Curt pulled back a little so he could see me.

"Dad, this is my friend Jordan."

"Nice to meet you," I said, automatically extending a hand.

The lines at the corners of the Alpha's eyes deepened as he smiled and gently took my hand in both of his.

"Nice to meet you as well, my dear." He glanced over at Curt, a devilish twinkle in his eye. "Now, she's a pretty one Curt. Ready to give us some more grandbabies?"

Curt just laughed good naturedly.

"Don't be greedy. You just got a new addition to the Beckett clan today."

"That we did. But we want some from you too. Don't think you're off the hook just because you're the youngest." He patted my hand and winked at me.

A smile tugged up the corners of my mouth.

It was official.

The Beckett men should have been locked up for the good of society.

Or at least for the good of all us unsuspecting women.

"We're going to head back to my place," Curt said after a few more teasing back and forths. His mom opened her mouth to say something. "Don't worry, Mom. We'll be back for dinner."

She shut her mouth and smiled.

"Alright."

Some warm goodbyes later, we were out of the house and back in the car.

"You have a house here?" I asked as I looked at the passing scenery.

"Yes. I like having my own place when I come to visit. My family's great and I love them, but sometimes I need somewhere to regain my sanity for a couple of hours."

I chuckled, completely understanding what he meant.

His house wasn't that far from his brother's, but it was on a much smaller piece of land, with neighbors all around. Which made sense if he wasn't here all the time.

He picked up both of our bags in one hand and went to the front door, opening it.

The place was small and cozy inside, with pretty hardwood floors and overstuffed furniture. The floor was warmed up by a thick rug and the stone fireplace was a nice focal point.

"Wow," I said looking around. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

He looked around.

"The modern look fits the apartment and the city. But it doesn't fit here." He shrugged. "I like both."

"That's interesting. Most people lean heavily one way or another. There's a pretty stark difference between the two."

He nodded.

"Guess I'm not like most people."

You could say that twice.

"Come on, the bedroom is this way."

I followed him down the hall to a spacious master bedroom, done in the same comfortable, traditional style as the living room.

He set our bags down against the wall and disappeared through the door that led into the bathroom.

I heard the sound of a faucet being turned on and then he came back out into the bedroom.

"I have a nice, big bathtub here for the cold winters. You look like you could use a long soak."

That did sound nice.

He stepped closer and kissed me softly, pushing my light jacket off my shoulders. He kissed my neck and then pulled my shirt off me, immediately going to my bra clasp and undoing that too. I shrugged out of my bra.

He cupped my breasts, thumbing the nipples, and then moved down to undo my jeans, crouching down to take them and my underwear off at once.

I toed off my sneakers and stepped out of my clothes. He raised one foot at a time and took off my socks too.

I jumped a little as he gave my clitoris a quick lick on the way back up. He chuckled, taking me into his arms and sliding his hands down my back to cup and squeeze my butt.

"Come on."

I yelped as he threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the bathroom, giving my butt a loud smack that didn't really hurt.

I was laughing, covering my butt with my hands for protection as he lowered me to the floor next to the large tub. It was already mostly full, mounds of fluffy white bubbles floating on top.

Curt leaned over and turned off the water.

"You made a bubble bath," I said, a little surprised.

"Sure. Who doesn't like bubbles?"

Hard to argue with that.

He stripped off his own clothes unceremoniously, but nothing he could do would make his body any less eye catching.

Stepping into the tub, he offered his hand.

I mentally took a picture of the moment to add to the album I was creating in my head.

I took his hand and he helped me in. I let him pull me down with him and he arranged us so I was positioned with my back against his front, his legs on either side of me.

I sighed as the hot water engulfed me.

"Good?" he asked, smoothing his hands down my arms.

"Hmm."

He cupped my breasts under the water, but it was more comforting than sexual. I drifted off with my head leaning back against his shoulder, not sleeping, just really relaxed.

We lay there for a while with Curt turning on the tap to add more hot water every once in a while.

I squeezed his thighs on either side of me, enjoying the firm muscle under my hands.

His hands lazily smoothed down my sides to my hips, his thumbs rubbing the sensitive grooves where my legs met my body.

I shivered a little as the languid heat started burning a little hotter.

He took my ear between his teeth and tugged at it gently, flicking it with his tongue. I raised my hand to cup the back of his head and hold it to me as his mouth skimmed down the side of my neck.

"Spread your legs," he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

I swallowed thickly, the command and his voice shooting straight through me.

I spread my legs.

He skimmed a finger up the center of my closed lips, then used more pressure as he traced it back down. I raised my knees as he pushed it inside me.

I let out a breath as he used his other hand to trace circles around my clitoris, inserting another finger inside at the same time.

I swallowed a moan as he gently bit the side of my neck, moving down in a hot trail to the curve where it met my shoulder. He sucked on the skin there, swirling his fingers inside and pinching my clitoris.

I was still slightly sore and sensitive from the night before and I came faster than I ever had, the orgasm flowing through me in a tingling heat as my neck arched and my fingers clenched in his hair.

He cupped me comfortingly as he kissed my cheek.

I took a moment to collect myself, but didn't wallow in the afterglow for too long.

Now was my chance to get my hands on him.

Turning around, I cupped his face and just looked at him a moment.

His hair was damp, as was his face from the steam, his dark eyelashes clumping together and making his eyes look even greener.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just admiring how beautiful you are."

His smile was embarrassed around the edges, his cheeks turning pinker as he blushed a little.

"Men aren't beautiful. We're handsome and manly," he said mock seriously.

"Hmmm. Well, I'd like a manly kiss then." I leaned in to kiss him, deepening it after a moment.

He hummed in the back of his throat, kissing me back with interest.

I kneaded his chest, enjoying the strength I could feel in his body, moving my hands down to his stomach, tracing the trail of hair that led down to his impressive erection.

He widened his legs a little as I took his shaft in hand, giving me room to do what I wanted.

I cupped the soft weight of his balls in my other hand, squeezing them gently as I stroked him.

The kiss became more intense as I settled into a rhythm.

But I also wanted a taste.

"Stand up," I said, breaking the kiss.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, breathing hard.

He stood up, water and bubbles sluicing down his body, his erection reddened and bobbing in front of my face.

I was about to take it back in my hands, when he stopped me.

"Wait."

He grabbed one of those shower sprayers and used it to rinse himself off.

"OK."

I laughed, taking it in my hands.

"You're so considerate."

"I try." He almost sighed it out as I took his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the tip. He tasted good, like clean skin and him.

I couldn't take all of him in my mouth, so I wrapped my hand around the base of him, using my other hand to steady myself on his thigh.

Curt

I groaned as I watched Jordan take me in her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.

Just the picture of her going down on me almost made me come.

I combed her hair back from her face and held it at the back of her head, staring at my wet length going in and out of her mouth.

Closing my eyes, I took some deep breaths, trying to stave off the inevitable as long as possible. I wanted to enjoy this as much as I could.

She did something with her tongue that had me going up on my toes, the sharp sensation making my hand clench in her hair.

I widened my stance a little to get more stability.

My breathing was labored as I fought not to clench my hands to hard in her hair.

I hung on for a few more minutes, but then I made the mistake of opening my eyes and seeing Jordan.

My thighs clenched and I came hard, hard enough that I could feel the rush in my entire body, from the top of my head down to my toes.

I slapped a hand against the wall to help keep me up as Jordan kept going, making it last as long as it could.

With a sigh, I finally pulled my softening penis out of her mouth and sank down to my knees to kiss her.

"Thank you. I feel just about ready to pass out now."

She snorted out a laugh, tucking her head against my neck as she hugged me.

I hugged her back, opening the drain to let the water out.

She'd been pulling away from me ever since the plane trip out and it had been driving me crazy. But she wouldn't tell me what was wrong.

I knew physical intimacy was not the same as emotional or mental intimacy, but I'd wanted to reconnect with her somehow and this was all I could think of.

But even though now I was holding her in my arms, I couldn't help but think I was still missing something.

We both stood up as the water level got too low.

Reaching up, I pulled off one of the towels from the rack and used it to dry her and then myself off. I wrapped the robe that was hanging behind the door around her because she was shivering a little.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

"Let's get under the covers. That will warm you up. And we have just enough time to sneak a nap in before dinner."

She nodded, following me to the bed.

We got in and I spooned her from behind, breathing in the scent of her as I wrapped my arm around her waist.

I'd given her enough space.

I'd get to the bottom of what was wrong after dinner.

Closing my eyes, I let sleep take me over.

After how well Jordan had worked me over, it didn't take long.

Chapter 7

Jordan

I waited until Curt was asleep and then carefully slipped out from under his arm.

I needed to call Peter.

I'd put off facing the music long enough.

Stepping out onto the porch, I hit his number, pacing in my bare feet.

It didn't even finish ringing once.

"Jordan, what the hell is going on? Do you not remember why I didn't put Cynthia on this assignment?"

"I know Peter." I opened my mouth to say something else, but couldn't think of what else I could say.

"I finally get someone everyone else wants to interview and this shit happens." I could almost hear him pacing. "Do you know how this makes us look? Like fucking amateurs! Amateurs that don't know how to be journalists!"

I winced.

"I'm really sorry," I said lamely.

"Sorry won't fix this." He sighed, relenting a bit. "Alright, why don't you come in now and we can figure out an angle to play here. There's no use fighting against this now- maybe we can use it. Change this into a human interest story about how you guys met, blah blah blah."

I winced.

"Um, well, can I come in Monday?"

A short silence.

"Why can't you come in now Jordan?"

"I'm not in the city right now."

"Where are you? And if you lie, you know I can find out."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"In Montana."

"Montana! What are you doing in Montana? Wait...are you with Curt right now?"

His voice almost cracked at the end of that question.

"Yes. For a couple of days."

I heard him muttering to himself now as he probably resumed pacing.

"OK. There's probably a goldmine of interesting information you can find out there. Talk to everyone, learn everything you can. We can run with a full spread of everything."

Just the idea of turning this whole thing into another story left a bad taste in my mouth.

"I'm not comfortable with that, Peter. I'd feel like I was taking advantage of them."

"You're not comfortable? Tough luck. You wouldn't have even met Curt Beckett if he hadn't been an assignment. This is your job. Grow up and do it."

My stomach felt queasy and my hands clammy at even the thought of violating Curt and his family's privacy in that way.

"I can't."

"You can. Or don't worry about writing anything else for this paper again."

The dial tone rang in my ear.

That went well.

Feeling numb and a little floaty, I went back inside and to the bedroom. Slipping in under the covers, I cuddled in next to Curt again. He stirred in his sleep and put his arm around me.

I didn't sleep. I couldn't. Closing my eyes and lay there, soaking in the comfort of Curt's body heat.

Curt

I felt Jordan get back into bed and scoot in close.

What was she trying to hide? Why wait until I was asleep to make a phone call?

I kept turning that around in my head until it was time for us to go back over to Remy's for dinner.

The whole family was there with the exception of Mark, with kids in both wolf and human form running underfoot and the smell of home cooked food filling the house.

It was nice, knowing I always had this to come back to.

Kept my feet on the ground.

I could tell it overwhelmed Jordan a little at first, but she soon relaxed, holding Jamie on her hip and chatting with my mother.

She looked like she belonged here.

It was odd. I'd never brought another woman home before, partly due to the fact that they weren't weres and I didn't want my family feeling as though they had to be on guard, but also just because I never really felt the need for it.

But I'd brought Jordan home after just a few days.

"Curt- can I talk to you outside?"

I turned to Remy and took in his serious face, not at all what I was expecting.

"Yeah, sure."

I followed him outside, wondering what he could have to tell me that couldn't be said in front of everyone.

"What is it?"

"Do you have your phone on you?"

"No, I turned it off and left it at my place. You know I like to cut myself off while I'm here."

"Someone leaked your work."

"What?"

He pulled out his phone and tapped it a few times, turning the screen to me.

I took the phone, scrolling through the article he had open. It was interspersed with specs of the engine we were currently working on, all proprietary information. It even had notes on it in what was clearly my own writing.

It didn't give the whole game away, but I knew our competitors would be pouring over the design, gleaning details that I didn't want to give away just yet.

I gritted my teeth, scrolling back to the top of the page.

Connect News.

"I'm really sorry," Remy said. "Do you know how it could have been leaked?"

I felt an actual pain in my chest.

I'd always thought that was just a saying. I hadn't thought you could really feel emotion in your physical heart.

"I might have an idea," I heard myself say hoarsely.

Remy said something else, but I was already walking back into the house.

Jordan was laughing at something Sharon had said when I walked back in, the light from the fireplace bouncing off her blond hair. She still looked gorgeous to me.

"Jordan, can I talk to you for a second?"

She looked over at me, her smile disappearing as she took in my face.

Sharon looked concerned as Jordan walked over to me.

"Let's go outside," I said, bringing my hand up to put on her lower back, but then dropping it before I touched her.

"OK."

Remy had already gone back inside, but I still had his phone.

I handed it to her.

She took it, looking at me questioningly.

"Read it."

She brought the phone up to her face.

"Forward's latest effort..." she trailed off, frowning as she read through the article.

She was good. If I didn't know any better, I would have guessed she was surprised.

"This is terrible," she said, looking up. "I'm so sorry this happened."

"Are you?"

She looked even more confused now.

"What do you mean?"

"It's on Connect News."

She looked at me, her face slowly smoothing out.

"You think I did this," she said in a quiet, level voice.

I just looked back at her. If she thought I was going to buy the act when she was caught red-handed, she wasn't as smart as I thought she was.

She nodded, looking out passed the drive.

We stood there silently for maybe a minute.

When she turned back to me, her face was completely closed.

"OK."

She handed the phone back to me.

"I'll get out of your way."

That was it? No explanation? No apology?

I clenched my jaw as I looked away from her.

Fine.

"I'll drive you to the airport. You can take the plane back to the city, it'll be back in plenty of time for me."

"No need. I'll call a taxi and buy a ticket, thanks."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll get you home."

"No. Thank you. I don't need anything else from you."

She got out her own phone and sat down on the porch step.

I unclenched my fists and took a deep breath.

"Whatever you want to do."

I left the door open as I walked back inside.

Everyone turned to stare at me, concerned looks on their faces.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure, honey?" My mother wrapped a comforting arm around my waist.

"Yes."

She nodded.

"Well, that's fine then. And I have a pecan pie with your name on it anyway, so why don't you just sit down right here and I'll bring you a slice."

I sat down, not wanting to think at the moment.

The pecan pie didn't taste as good as I remembered.

Jordan

I was on autopilot during the drive to the airport and the flight back home.

I'd set a goal for myself, which was simply to get home.

I'd figure out what to do next from there.

When I got back to my apartment building, I stopped by the neighbor's place first.

"Jordan! You're back early."

Bobbie was fifteen years old and usually more than happy to take in Skittles when I needed someone to dog sit.

This way he got to spend time with my dog and didn't whine as much about getting their own, which made his mother happy.

"Yeah, there was a change in plans."

Skittles was more than happy to see me, barking his little head off and jumping up to put his paws on my thighs.

I scooped up his warm little body and hugged him close.

"Thanks Bobbie."

"Sure, any time. You know Skittles is my little buddy."

I forced a smile, waving goodbye as I trudged to my own apartment.

I needed my pajamas. But first I needed a shower.

I stood under the hot water for a while, letting it warm me up. I'd been cold ever since Curt had decided I was a total scumbag.

Now would be the perfect time to cry, but I couldn't dredge up the energy.

I felt like a shell of myself.

Drying off, I put on my comfiest pair of flannel pajamas and fell face first into bed with Skittles cuddled up with me.

I opened one eye as _Bad to the Bone_ started playing.

Sighing, I rolled over and grabbed my phone.

"Hi Grandma."

"Jordan, what kind of mess have you gotten into? There's pictures of you and that Beckett kid all over the place. Not that I blame you hun- that is one fine piece of meat there."

"That he is," I said morosely.

She paused.

"Sounds like I might have to fly up there and give that boy a good old fashioned beat down."

"No, no, really. It's fine. I should have known better."

"It'll be easy. He'll never see it coming. I'll do my old lady routine to lull him into a false sense of security. Then bam! Kick right to the head. Knock some sense into the asshole."

I snorted out a laugh despite myself.

"Thanks Grandma, but I have it covered. I'm too old for you to still be fighting my battles for me. I have to figure this out myself."

Her gusty sigh was clear over the distance.

"I suppose. But it would make me feel better."

"Not a good enough reason."

"Well, I've done worse for less. But I'll respect your wishes, sweetheart." I relaxed again. "What about your job? I can't imagine that exclamation mark of a man you call a boss was happy with the coverage. Probably got his panties all up in a twist. Someone needs to let that boy know stress will be the death of him."

"Well, he's not exactly happy about it. I'll find out if I still have a job on Monday I guess."

She made a sympathetic noise.

"Whatever happens, you'll land on your feet. You always have. You were always the smartest of my grandbabies. I'm not worried at all. And you always have family and pack to fall back on."

"I know I do. Thank you Grandma. It was good to hear your voice."

We said our goodbyes and I plonked my head back down on the pillow.

I had the weekend to wallow and figure my shit out.

That was all the time I was giving myself.

Unfortunately, Monday rolled around at the speed of light.

Or at least, that was what it felt like.

I'd gotten a good cry in, so that was something.

"Wish me luck Skittles."

He cocked his head at me and then came closer to lick my cheek.

I hugged him and then got up to face the day.

And Peter.

This was going to be a doozy of a Monday.

When I got to the front of the Connect building, I took a moment to just stare up at it.

When I'd first gotten a job here, I'd been beyond excited, ready to take on the news world, make a difference, have fun.

Right now, I'd never dreaded anything more than walking in there.

Bandaid. Rip it off quickly.

I walked in and got on the elevator to go to our floor, my heart nowhere near steady.

The walk from the elevator to Peter's office was even more excruciating.

People stopped speaking to each other and stared as I passed them, starting up again when they thought I was out of earshot.

Of course, I could hear someone clear across the entire floor talking about me, but they didn't know that.

Wonderful. I was now the subject of the office gossip mill.

I knocked on Peter's door and went in.

Peter looked up from his computer and then sat back as I entered, steepling his hands in front of himself as he regarded me.

"Have a seat."

I sat down.

"Do you have a copy of your story for me?"

I nodded, pulling out a hard copy I'd printed out.

He took it, leaning back in his chair and reading through it.

Halfway through, he shook his head and tossed it on his desk.

"This isn't what we discussed."

"It's the original assignment."

He closed his eyes and rubbed them with one hand.

"Yes, but that was before everything else. You know that. We need the more personal angle."

"This is the best I can do. I'm not willing to do the more personal angle."

"Jordan, why are you doing this? Is he worth it? We both know you're just the latest flavor of the week. Curt Beckett is a player and he doesn't bother hiding it."

That cut pretty deep. Particularly when we'd already broken up.

Could you break up after being together for less than two days?

In any case, did the whole world have to tell me how little I meant to Curt?

Sheesh.

"Where did you get the leaked information on Forward?" I asked.

That had been bothering me, like an itch in the back of my brain I couldn't scratch.

He shook his head.

"You know I can't reveal a confidential source."

Yeah, I did. But I figured it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Forget about that story. Are you going to rewrite this and give it back to me?"

I looked into Peter's eyes. They weren't cold or unfeeling, which somehow made this worse. He wasn't some comic book villain twirling his moustache.

"I can't."

He nodded, sighing.

"I thought so. I'm really sorry Jordan, but I'm going to have to let you go."

I nodded, already expecting this.

"I understand. Thank you for the opportunity. I've really enjoyed my time here."

He nodded, standing as I stood. He held his hand out to me.

Looking at it, I paused before taking it.

"I can respect sticking to your morals," he said in a low voice, his eyes sympathetic.

I took his hand and shook it.

And then I walked out.

Jobless and alone.

Yay.

After leaving Connect, I just walked around the city, thinking.

What did I want to do?

I could apply somewhere else. It would be hard work finding another job, but I didn't think it would be impossible anymore. Peter didn't seem inclined to badmouth me anyway.

The job wouldn't be as good, but I could probably wrangle one.

But I had enough of a cushion in savings that I could really think about it.

The truth was, I'd already been feeling less happy about that job. I hadn't felt challenged, hadn't felt like I could do the stories that I'd wanted to do.

Maybe...maybe it was time to branch out on my own.

Stopping on the sidewalk, I looked around, realizing I'd done a large circle and I was actually only a couple blocks away from home.

Filled with renewed purpose, I walked back to my apartment.

Skittles was beside himself when I walked in after only being gone a couple of hours instead of the usual full day.

"Skittles, it's a new day. Let's get to work."

I opened my laptop and sat down.

Chapter 8

One month later

Curt

"Mr. Patel is here sir."

"Just one minute Miranda."

I finished reading the well researched article about our new train and the existing subway system and how the new technology was impacting the commute in the city.

Scrolling down, I found Jordan's picture next to a short biography of her.

"Mr. Beckett?"

I looked up to see Patel walking in.

I stood up to welcome him in.

I'd thrown myself into work after what had happened with Jordan, needing the outlet. But I just wasn't enjoying it like I used to.

And then I'd stumbled onto Jordan's site a week ago after following a link from another article I'd been reading for research.

I'd been glued to the screen after I found it. I read through all of her work on there so far and regularly checked for new content like a lovesick schoolboy.

But I couldn't stop myself from doing it.

I got through all of my morning meetings and ate lunch alone while working, trying not to look over at the couch where Jordan and I used to eat together.

My friends and family noticed the difference in me, but whenever someone tried to set me up with a new woman, I had to turn them down.

I just had no interest in meeting someone new right now.

I kept thinking about Jordan.

I finished my lunch and went down for the usual time with my research and development team.

I forced myself to pay attention and be present.

Things went as usual, and everyone was filing out of the meeting room while I gathered up some reports I needed to look over later.

"Curt?"

"Hmmm?" I looked up to find Zoe, one of the engineers I had on staff. "Yes?"

"You don't seem yourself lately."

That gave me pause.

We didn't usually talk about things of a personal nature.

"I'm fine, but thanks for your concern." I picked up my things and tucked them under my arm, ready to go.

"It's because of that woman isn't it? Jordan Matthews?" There was a hint of something ugly in her tone that kept me from leaving.

I turned to her.

"That is none of your business," I said quietly.

"Why are you wasting your time with that bitch? She sold you out and got away with it!" Her face screwed up as she started breathing harder.

Something was definitely off kilter there.

I got out my phone and texted Sanders, our head of security.

"What are you doing? I'm still talking!"

"I apologize. I needed to respond to an email-"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted, combing her hands through her tangled hair. "I'm just trying to help you. You need to be with someone that actually cares about you, who isn't after you for an ulterior motive."

I made a non-committal sound as I casually stepped away from her.

She was coming unhinged.

"I've worked with you for years now. Years! I worked my butt off to get this job, to get closer to you, and you don't even see me."

"I see you."

She laughed, her eyes watering.

"Bullshit. Even when you think she betrayed you like that, you're still hung up on her."

"Zoe, why don't you sit down and we can talk about this," I said soothingly.

"I don't want to talk!" She swiped the two computers on one of the tables off with one angry sweep. "I'm done talking!"

She took a step toward me.

I didn't want to hurt her, but she didn't seem to be coming in for a hug.

I circled around the desks, keeping them between me and her, making a slow circuit of the room as she followed.

"Why are you running? Come and face me like a man you asshole!"

I ducked her lunge and danced around her.

I just needed to hold on until Sanders got here.

She stopped talking as she turned to me with her head tilted down, the madness in her eyes obvious now.

I dodged another grab she made at me, but felt a burning in my arm.

I looked down to see a long, shallow gash along the length of it.

I looked up as she laughed and realized she was holding an X-Acto knife in her hand.

That was it.

I didn't dodge the next attempt, but stepped into it and squeezed her wrist until she dropped the knife with a yelp.

"Stop! You're hurting me!"

I grabbed her other wrist and twisted both of her hands behind her back.

She started crying.

When that didn't illicit a response, she started screaming.

Sanders walked in less than a minute after that, her face unreadable as she took in the hysterics Zoe was having.

Shaking her head, she jerked her head at the younger security guard that had come with her.

"Zip tie her. I'm calling the police."

A couple of hours later, Zoe had been taken away and I'd answered all the officers' questions. I'd refused to press charges.

She needed treatment, not jail time.

I waited until the police was gone and I was alone with Sanders in my office.

There was something that was still bugging me.

"Sanders, can you look through Zoe's emails from around the time of the leak a month ago?"

Her dark eyes sharpened at that.

"You think it might have been her?"

Sanders had wanted to launch an investigation when it had happened, but I'd forestalled one, telling her I'd already knew who'd done it.

Now...

"I don't know. But she said 'even when you think she betrayed you like that'. Makes me wonder."

Sanders nodded slowly.

"I'll get Eric right on it. She might not have used her company email though."

I nodded.

"Yeah, but a lot of people don't think about details like that. It's worth a shot."

"That it is. It shouldn't take too long, not with such a narrow window. I'll get on it now."

I sat and waited, my stomach in knots.

If we didn't find anything, it didn't necessarily mean she was in the clear. It could just mean she'd used a personal email.

And I'd have someone to look into it.

If we did find something though...

That meant I'd accused Jordan of something she didn't do.

I couldn't concentrate on work while I waited, so I just paced, playing back the look on her face when I'd pulled her out onto the porch.

God.

What if she hadn't done it?

The phone rang.

Sanders.

"You called it, Mr. Beckett. An email sent straight to Connect News with the pictures attached."

I closed my eyes as a jumble of confused emotions went through me.

"Mr. Beckett?"

"Thank you Sanders. You can go home. And feel free to come in late tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir."

Hanging up, I sat down on the couch, lowering my head into my hands.

What had I done?

Jordan

I finished writing up a rough draft of my next post and hit save.

I'd edit it later.

I sat back with a sigh, feeling the good tired that meant I'd just finished a hard, fulfilling day of work.

Being fired from Connect News had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

I'd started my own news site and traffic was increasing on the daily. I knew part of it must have been the notoriety from being seen with Curt, at least in the beginning, but I'd also gotten well wishes from people I knew in the industry. But neither of those would have sustained the growth I'd been seeing.

I researched, I did the leg work, I did the fact checking. I did stories I cared about and I was finding out there was an audience for that.

A lot of people were tired of the fluff news cycle.

And I could do a lot of my work in my pajamas.

It was a win win.

And it kept me busy. Something to keep my mind off of Curt.

I tried to stay away from the gossip sites, not wanting to know what supermodel he'd moved on with. I had no desire to torture myself.

Yes, sometimes I just had to break out the mint chocolate chip. But I picked myself up again right after.

"You still love me, don't you Skittles?"

Skittles licked my hand and settled back on the cushion.

I'd take it.

The knock on the door had Skittles raising his head in interest.

With a bark, he shot of the couch and ran to the door, his tail up and wagging, his whole body trembling with energy.

He looked back at me and then at the door.

I laughed.

"Calm down, Skittles. I'm opening it."

Getting up, I shuffled to the door in my slippers and opened it.

And stared.

"Curt?"

My hand went self-consciously to the old t-shirt I was wearing with my sweatpants. No makeup and my hair up in a bun.

Not exactly how I would have chosen to present myself if I'd had a choice.

He was dressed in a button down with the sleeves rolled up and slacks, his five o'clock shadow adding a sexy ruggedness to his face.

He must have come straight from the office, even though it was almost ten at night.

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated.

"Please?"

I nodded, stepping back to let him in.

Skittles jumped in the air, barking, licking at the hands that reached down to pet him.

Curt chuckled, picking him up and letting him lick his face.

"I missed you too, little guy." He looked around. "Can I sit down?"

I gestured toward the couch, sitting on the other end after he picked a side.

"What are you doing here?"

And why did he have to look so good?

Seeing him just underscored the fact that I'd been lying about getting over him.

I'd probably never be over Curt Beckett.

He took a deep breath and let it out.

"I wanted to say I was sorry."

My mind blanked.

"Sorry?"

He nodded, licking his lips.

"I found out who leaked the information to Connect News. And I needed to come over here and apologize to you in person." He looked me in the eye, his own sincere and steady. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. And I'm sorry I hurt you like I did."

I swallowed, looking away as I tried to blink back the tears that decided to make an appearance.

I so didn't want to cry in front of him.

"OK," I said, clearing my throat.

"And...I know this is probably a ridiculous thing to say, but I have to know. It's been killing me, not seeing you. Even before I knew about...I missed you." He shrugged. "I miss you. Every day." It was his turn to look away. "Do you think you could give me another shot?" He looked back at me, his eyes somber.

I frowned, not knowing what to say.

A part of me wanted to jump on him and say yes.

Another part of me was still angry and hurt at what he'd done. At how quickly he'd believed the worst of me.

"I don't know Curt. You really hurt me."

He winced, nodding, looking down at his hand as he petted Skittles.

We were both quiet for a minute.

"How's your site doing?"

"What?"

"Your site. I've been reading it. It's good. Informative."

"You've been reading it?" My voice went up a few decibels.

Skittles cocked his ear.

"Yes."

"Oh." I cleared my throat. "Thank you. Um, it's doing surprisingly well."

He shook his head.

"It's not surprising at all. You're good at what you do and you care. It comes through in your work."

I swallowed, trying to digest the compliment.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

"How about a month?"

"What?"

"Just give me a month. If at the end of it, you still want to part ways, I'll leave you alone. You'll never have to see me again."

The swift change in gears had me off-balance.

So this was what some of those unfortunate people in his meetings felt like.

It was odd to be on the receiving end of that incisive mind.

"I don't know..."

He reached over and covered my hand, touching me for the first time.

We both froze at the innocent touch.

"I can't believe that you didn't feel anything," he said hoarsely, staring at our hands.

I took a shaky breath.

"I felt something."

He looked up at me, his eyes hopeful.

"Then please, give me another chance. What we had...it's too good to throw away without trying."

I pulled my hand out from under his and stood up, walking away a little.

I wanted this too much. It made me question my own judgment.

I could say no. And I knew he'd respect that.

But what if I ended up always wondering 'what if'?

What did I have to lose at this point?

I turned back to him.

"Fine." He stood up, stepping closer. "But no sex."

He stopped, dropping his hand.

"What?"

"No sex. I want to make sure that what I feel for you is genuine. And vice-versa. The sex is just...it's too intense. It muddies the waters." I tucked my hands into my pockets self-consciously.

He nodded, searching my face.

"Fine. Whatever you want."

He stepped closer again slowly.

When I didn't step away again he took me in his arms and hugged me close.

I breathed in his scent, leaning against him.

I'd missed him so much.

"I missed you so much," he whispered into my hair, echoing my own thoughts. "Can I stay here tonight? I promise not to seduce you."

I laughed, hitting him in the chest with my closed fist.

"It's not funny."

"Trust me, I do not find this funny," he said wryly.

I could feel his erection against my stomach, ready and raring to go, so I knew he wasn't joking.

"God gave you hands. Use them."

"Ouch," he said good-naturedly, rubbing my back gently. "Message received."

He stayed the night, cuddled up with me on my bed.

My body wanted his just as much as his wanted mine, but I knew I'd made the right decision. I needed to be sure I made this call with a clear mind.

My shower massager could survive the extra workouts.

Chapter 9

Jordan

The next month was...great.

We spent every weeknight and weekend together. If Curt had to be away on business, he made sure to call me while he was away.

We did normal couple things that we hadn't really done before.

We went to the movies, had takeout, did the dishes together, zonked out in front of the television.

We also went for a run outside the city in our wolf forms.

Curt was just as gorgeous as his wolf. Large, with a thick gray coat and the same green eyes. We ran and played for hours.

It was really nice.

I'd wondered how we would be together in our normal lives.

I still wanted to spend time with him even after a month. I was excited to see him every time.

And the hurt I'd felt was fading.

To be honest, I didn't even think about it anymore.

He'd been a total gentleman, not even bringing up sex again. If he or I took unusually long showers sometimes, we both chose not to comment on it.

The month was going to be up tomorrow.

But I was already sure I knew what I wanted.

He was supposed to come over tonight and I ran around to make sure everything was perfect.

I was putting the last touches on dinner when he knocked on the door.

Skittles would have normally run to the door, vibrating with happiness at Curt arriving, but I'd left him with the neighbor for the night.

I took off my apron and fixed one of the thigh high stockings I was wearing.

I'd never dressed so provocatively for a man before and I was feeling the nerves.

My heels clicked gently on the floor as I went to the door, making sure to check that it was actually Curt.

Cuz that would be embarrassing.

Curt

I almost swallowed my tongue when Jordan opened the door.

I didn't know where to look first.

A matching set of lacy black underwear that was completely sheer, thigh high stockings with a garter belt and a dainty pair of high heels were all that she was wearing.

Her breasts were almost spilling over the top of her bra, the shadows of her nipples clear under the lace.

And her panties- if they could be called that- didn't really cover anything.

"Not that I'm not enjoying your reaction, but could you come inside? I don't want to give Mr. Stein a heart attack."

I automatically looked back to make sure nobody was getting the view I was, stepping quickly inside and shutting the door.

I didn't like to share.

"You look gorgeous." I clenched and released my hands, wanting to touch her, but not wanting to assume anything even though she was dressed like an invitation.

My cock was ready to bust right out of my pants.

It had already decided the correct answer to said invitation was 'hell yes'.

She smiled, her eyes skating down to the obvious bulge in my pants. They darkened as she licked her lips.

Oh, God.

"Thank you. I wanted to wear something you'd like."

"Well, you nailed it. Of course, you could wear anything and I'd like it." And it was true. She always looked so effortlessly sexy.

She cleared her throat, glancing over at the kitchen.

"I made dinner, if you want to eat first..." she trailed off.

"Is the no sex ban off?" I asked, taking a step closer.

She nodded, rubbing her hands down her thighs.

"I mean, if you want to-"

I was already on her, picking her up in my arms and carrying her into the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed.

I ripped off my clothes, wanting to feel her all over my body. Getting on the bed, I pinned her underneath me and cupped her face in my hands.

She'd gone darker with her makeup, her eyes smoky brown pools and her lips a siren red that I really wanted to taste.

But I needed to get something out of the way first.

"This means we're in a relationship. Just wanted to warn you, I'm not going anywhere and we're spending the rest of our lives together. I should have listened to my instincts all along." I shook my head at my own idiocy. "You're my mate. You're perfect for me."

Her eyes searched mine and I hoped she could see the sincerity in my eyes. I knew the truth of what I was saying deep down inside.

"Mate?" she whispered, her hands clutching my biceps.

"Mate," I said firmly, rubbing my thumb along her cheekbone.

She cupped the back of my head and pulled me down for a tender kiss, her lips soft and full against mine.

That was a yes if I'd ever heard one.

I took over the kiss, needing more, needing everything right then.

My hands were everywhere as I stroked my tongue against hers, the feel of soft smooth skin and the slightly rougher lace hitting all my buttons.

I broke the kiss and pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I can't wait anymore right now."

"Me neither. Hurry."

That was not going to be a problem.

She'd put her underwear on on top of the garter belt, so slipping it off her silk clad thighs only took a second.

But then I had to sit back and take a moment to just take in the picture she made.

Her hair was splayed out over the pillows, her lips kiss swollen and eyes heavy, her thighs parted in invitation, the scraps of lace that didn't cover anything only highlighting how bare she was.

"Hurry."

I sighed, leaning over her on one elbow and kissing one pert nipple through the lace as I aimed my weeping cock at her wet entrance.

We both groaned as I slid in slowly, all the way to the hilt in one thrust.

And that was where both of our patience snapped.

I pounded into her and she wrapped her strong legs around my waist, opening herself up and using her leverage to push back against me.

The bed creaked under us as I kept up the pace.

It was loud and messy and fast.

But she was right there with me.

I watched her face as she went over, a silken fist clenching on my buried cock as she bit her lip, only a quiet gasp escaping her lips.

The sight of her coming sent a frisson of heat through me.

I followed her over with a groan, my balls clenching so hard I thought my head might come off as I pumped my release into her.

Leaning down, I bit down on her shoulder, not able to fight the instinct to mark her.

She gasped, arching her neck, but not like it hurt.

We were both sweaty and breathing hard as I collapsed next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in next to my side.

"Let's not wait so long again," I said, my voice a little gritty.

She laughed, rubbing my chest soothingly.

"Agreed."

I closed my eyes, feeling well and truly relaxed for the first time in two months.

She was mine.

Opening my eyes, I rubbed at the mark I'd left on her smooth skin. I hadn't broken the skin, which was a relief.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be." She kissed my cheek. "I liked it," she whispered in my ear.

Well.

The pulse of heat that sent through me made it clear it wouldn't take me long to recover.

"Which apartment do you want to keep? Yours or mine?" I asked idly, tracing a finger over her shoulder.

Not living together didn't even occur to me.

She stilled.

"I hadn't really thought about it." She lay there for a moment. "I like the view from your apartment, but it's kind of modern for my taste." She lifted her face from my shoulder to peek up at me.

"OK. Feel free to redo it however you want. Or, we could look for a new apartment if you want."

"Really? I thought you liked how it was decorated."

I shrugged.

"Sure, but I like you better. Who cares what the coffee table looks like?"

She laughed, tracing my collarbone lightly.

"You're so sweet. Why don't we redecorate your apartment but keep it somewhere in the middle so it looks like both of us?"

Most of the women I'd dated would have jumped at the chance to have everything done their way.

The fact that she didn't wasn't a surprise.

"Sounds like a plan."

I'd live in a hovel if that's where she was comfortable, so this course suited me just fine.

"I love you," I said, brushing her hair behind her ear.

She let out a shaky breath, kissing my nose lightly.

"I love you too." She paused. "Even though I hate your coffee table taste."

I chuckled, pulling her in close to kiss her.

"I'll burn the table if you want," I murmured between kisses.

"Thanks, but I doubt it'd burn. It looks like it came from outer space. It could probably withstand a nuclear holocaust."

I snorted out a laugh.

She was perfect.

Jordan

I smiled as Curt laughed.

I'd never thought one assignment would end up changing my life so much.

But God, was I happy I'd taken it.

### *****

### Connect with Dawn Wilder

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