A Grizzly Kind Of Love (The Mating Game Book 3) (6 page)

The police officer shook his head. “Well, appreciate the help. Too bad the guy didn’t make it. It was a hit and run. Hope they find the other driver.”

She tipped her head back and scented the air. The dead guy was not the guy from the parking lot. Something felt off about the accident – just too coincidental and weird – but she couldn’t imagine what.

Feeling uneasy, she climbed back onto the bike with Zane. Now she was hugging his bare skin, and she felt her nipples harden, pressing into his back. She could smell the musk of his arousal, and realized with mortification that he must be able to smell hers as well.

It doesn’t mean anything. He’s a guy. They get turned on if the wind blows the wrong way.

He drove her back home, where she slept poorly that night, dreaming that she scented Zane just outside her window. So close, but just too far away to touch.

The next morning Gillian, who was usually highly unflappable, looked quite alarmed when Wynona told her what had happened.

“Did you tell the police about the man from the parking lot?” she asked.

“No, what would I tell them? Last night I thought I caught a faint whiff of some guy who eavesdropped on me almost a week ago and corrected my grammar? And then a little while later there was a car accident? I’m not even sure it was him I smelled.”

“He corrected your grammar? You didn’t mention that part.”

“Yes, he did,” Wynona said, shaking her head in annoyance. “More than once. In the span of a very short conversation.”

“Well, your grammar is frequently quite atrocious,” Gillian mused. “He can’t be all bad.” Then she pursed her lips. “But someone tried to shoot at you the other day, and then there was a car accident right behind you.”

“But how could those two things be connected? Honestly, I think that working with Zane and having to deal with the Shepherds just has me rattled in general,” Wynona said.

As they spoke, a man walked through the door, good-looking enough, wearing a crisply pressed suit. He had an impatient look on his face. Before he could speak, Sprinkles looked up from his dog bed by Gillian’s desk and growled at him, fur rising in an angry ridge down his back.

“I’m sorry, sir, we’re not accepting new clients at this time,” Wynona informed him.

“Well, not all clients, just specifically you,” Gillian explained helpfully. “Since Sprinkles doesn’t like you.”

“Gillian. Do you remember how we talked about the fact that honesty isn’t always the best policy?” Wynona said through clenched teeth.

“Of course.” Gillian stared at her in puzzlement, her eyes huge behind those owlish glasses. “It was less than a week ago. You know I have an excellent memory. Why do you ask?”

“Forget it,” Wynona sighed.

“Hey!” the man snapped. “You can’t turn me down just because some rat of a dog doesn’t like me.”

“Get out!” Wynona and Gillian said at the exact same time, both pointing at the doorway, and he glared at them and walked out the door, muttering, “Crazy bitches.” That only reinforced Sprinkles’ original assessment of him. Men who called women bitches did not get to sign up with Wynona.

She spent the rest of the day interviewing prospective clients, talking with current clients, and running errands. Throughout the day, she felt an odd, hollow feeling, as if she were missing something.

Finally she figured out what it was. Zane. She didn’t have anything scheduled with Zane that day. It felt weird to go all day without him. She wouldn’t be seeing him until tomorrow at lunch, when they practiced eating at a restaurant in public. Then the next day, he’d have lunch with Tiffany.

The realization that spending an entire day without Zane could cause these feelings filled Wynona with dismay. Whoever he ended up mating with, whether it was Tiffany or someone else, it wouldn’t be her. She found herself wishing that she could tell him why she was really doing this, but she’d given her word and signed that non-disclosure agreement.

The rest of the day felt dull and heavy, and she went home right at five, which was unusual for her. She usually worked until seven or eight. Not that she had no social life.

Oh, who was she kidding? She had absolutely no social life.

She put a few hamburgers in the frying pan, but she was so distracted that she forgot about them and accidentally set them on fire.

She put out the fire, set the frying pan in the sink, then opened the window to let out the smoke. Then she went into the living room and plopped down on the couch and tried to think of what to do with herself. Sprinkles was spending the night at Gillian’s; Wynona wished she had him with her instead. She could use a little company.

Suddenly she heard a bang coming from the kitchen, and leaped to her feet.

At the same moment, she smelled Zane. She ran into the kitchen. The back door was open, practically hanging off the hinges, and Zane was standing by her refrigerator.

“What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

“I thought your house was burning down. Kicked open the back door.” He glanced at it, then walked over and set it back in place as much as possible. “I’ll fix that for you tomorrow. Needs new hinges. And a stronger lock. And a better door. I’ll get you a steel door.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “I mean why are you at my house at all? Why were you close enough to smell my burned dinner?”

“That shooting’s got me worried for you. I’m here to keep an eye out.” He began rifling through the fridge and pulling out ingredients.

“What are you doing now?”

“Cooking dinner for us. I’m hungry.”

“Oh.” She didn’t have an answer for that.

“You go relax,” he said. “I’ll have something whipped up in half an hour.”

“You know how to cook?” she asked skeptically. “I mean, in a real kitchen, not on a grill?”

He glanced at the frying pan sitting in the sink. The remains of her hamburgers sat there like little lumps of charcoal.

“I think I can manage,” he said.

She started to leave the kitchen, then paused and glanced back at him. “You didn’t by any chance sleep outside my house last night, did you?”

“Course I did. Somebody might be trying to shoot you with silver bullets.” He gave her a fierce grin. “But they’d have to get through me first.”

“Well…thank you. I mean, you didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. It’s very nice of you, in a stalkerish kind of way, that is.” She shook her head. “Okay, so I really did smell you outside my bedroom window.”

“Why didn’t you invite me in for a cup of coffee, then?” He looked mildly offended.

“Because I didn’t think you were really there! I thought I was dreaming!” she said with exasperation.

“So me being at your bedroom window is a dream come true, huh?” His smug grin sent a flare of annoyance through her.

“It is not! It’s…it’s a nightmare!” She stomped off to her living room.

That was really smooth, Wynona. Great comeback.

She sat down in the living room and turned on the TV to distract herself. A few minutes later the smells of lemon and butter swirled through the air.

Zane called her in to the dining room about twenty minutes later. He had cooked a delicious lemon-butter tilapia and rice.

They sat down and ate dinner in companionable silence. Zane was actually an amazing cook. Every lemony bite of tilapia was tart, buttery heaven, and he’d cooked it just right, so it practically melted in her mouth.

How had he learned that? And how had he managed to convince everyone that he was a grunting boor, one step up from a real bear?

“By the way, I made it through the whole meal even though you only put out one set of forks and knives,” Zane said. “What kind of lousy restaurant is this?”

She shook her head. “Damn it, I missed a chance to practice civilizing you.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me. Dance with me,” he said.

She stared at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.

“Dance with you?”

“Yeah. Don’t civilized people waltz or something?”

He had her there – she should teach him how to dance. Even though that meant she’d have to be uncomfortably close to him.

“I’ll teach you a box step,” she said. “Tiffany and her crowd go to a lot of formal dances.”

She put a record on her record player.

“You have a phonograph,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Nice.”

She began demonstrating the steps, then watched him repeat them perfectly.

As they danced, he moved with such grace and confidence that she was astonished. Zane apparently was full of surprises.

Then he stumbled and accidentally pulled her into his arms. She slammed against his chest and stared up into his eyes.

“You did that on purpose!” she accused.

“Yep,” he drawled, unashamed.

He leaned down and kissed her.

She would have expected his kiss to be aggressive, unsophisticated, maybe even a bit rough, but it wasn’t. It was magical.

His lips were firm and commanding on hers, and he kissed her with a mixture of passion and finesse that made her toes curl and her panties dampen.

She parted her lips and he stroked her tongue with his, wrapping one arm securely around her waist and using his free hand to cradle the back of her head. With each slide and flick of his tongue, shivers of electricity coursed through her body. Her breasts were crushed against his broad, muscular chest, and she wondered if he could feel her heart’s frantic tripping.

He gentled the kiss, grazing her lower lip with his teeth then barely smudging her mouth with his, leaving her breathless and aching for more.

Then he pulled back. “In case you were wondering, I did that on purpose too.”

Before he could say anything else, there was a rattling sound outside the kitchen window, and then she heard muffled curses.

Zane gave a warning growl, and his face went furry. Long claws curved from his fingertips.

“What’s that?” she said. Sniffing at the air, she smelled…Gillian and Sprinkles?

“Sprinkles?” she yelled, and was answered with a flurry of high-pitched yaps.

Zane walked over and lifted the kitchen door off its hinges, holding it with one hand. He waved Gillian and Sprinkles inside, then set the door back in place.

“What the heck are you doing out there?” Wynona cried.

“We’re patrolling,” Gillian said. “You need protection.”

Wynona looked at Gillian, with her owlish glasses, who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. Then she looked at Sprinkles, who might possibly tip the scales at six pounds, if you counted his fur. And his collar.

“Okay,” she said.

“Because of the shooting, and the guy following you, and the car accident,” Gillian continued.

“Wait a minute. What guy followed you?” Zane looked angry.

Wynona explained about the man in the parking lot, and the possibility that she might have scented him again outside the diner.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Zane demanded.

“Because it’s possible that I’m just imagining things.”

“And it’s possible that you’re being stalked by an assassin. If there’s even a chance you’re in danger, I’m staying right here.”

“But…you have to have lunch with Tiffany,” she protested.

“So? We’ll come back here afterwards.”

“I’m staying too,” Gillian informed her. “Sprinkles and I will take the couch.”

“Nah, you sleep in the guest room upstairs, and I’ll take the couch,” Zane said. “That way if anyone tries to come in, they’ll have to get through me first.”

“Sprinkles will wake up if anyone tries to break in,” Gillian said confidently.

Zane frowned. “Okay, first the river and then the diner. Nobody followed us to the diner, so how would they have known we were there? I didn’t tell anyone I was going there that night.”

“Somebody might have put a tracking device on your motorcycle,” Gillian suggested. “Or your cell phone. Or both.”

“Can I borrow your phone?” he asked Gillian. “If somebody has hacked into my phone, I don’t want to use it and tip anybody off.”

Gillian let him use her phone, and he called Rex at the shop and asked him to check his motorcycle. Apparently Zane had left his motorcycle at Rex’s house and had Rex drop him off half a mile from Wynona’s house. He’d run the rest of the way there in bear form, so Wynona wouldn’t hear him drive up.

A little while later, Zane got a call back.

There was a tiny tracking device planted on his motorcycle. Rex was taking the bike to the shop to check every square inch of it to make sure there weren’t any more.

Zane had his cell phone checked and found out that someone had hacked it and placed a tracking device on it. He got rid of the phone, and got a new one with enhanced security on it. He reported it to the police, as well, along with the shooting by the riverside and the car accident. Wynona went with him to help fill out the report.

She could tell that they weren’t convinced that the incidents were connected, but they promised to look into it.

Then he dressed in his custom-tailored suit and had Wynona drive him to Hamilton’s for his lunch with Tiffany.

He insisted that she stay in the area in case anyone tried to kill her again. Gillian tagged along for the ride.

Hamilton’s, located in downtown Cedar Park, was the fanciest restaurant in town. Zane looked devastatingly handsome in his suit. Somehow, the big, burly man who wore nothing but jeans and T-shirts suddenly looked as if he’d been born to wear a custom-tailored suit and buttery-soft Italian shoes.

Sitting on a park bench outside the restaurant with Gillian, Wynona felt faintly sick.

Zane was inside eating lunch with his future intended, with Cecily and Hubert sitting at a table nearby, spying on them.

“I have the distinct impression that you did not actually want Zane to have lunch with Tiffany,” Gillian said gravely.

Wynona grimaced. “Well, no. Zane, behind all the bluster, is actually a decent guy, and Tiffany’s… I mean, you’ve met her.”

Gillian gave a delicate shudder. “Yes, unfortunately. And I have been abused by her grammar,” she said, looking pained. “She hates children, dogs, and
gramm
ar. I do not normally repeat myself, but her crimes against the English language cannot be emphasized enough.”

They had wisely left Sprinkles back at Gillian’s house. Wynona was pretty sure that there would be a risk of Sprinkles escaping from his collar and making a beeline for Tiffany – in an attempt to pee on her.

She tried to distract herself by catching up on work, making phone calls to clients, checking and answering emails on her tablet computer. She felt gloomier and gloomier. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I can’t just sit here,” she said unhappily. “Let’s…go down the street and get a coffee. He’ll probably be a while.”

As they walked, Wynona’s nostrils flared. She could swear that she scented the guy from the parking lot again – just the faintest whiff. Not quite enough to be sure.

“What is it?” Gillian asked. “Do you smell something?”

Before she could answer, she smelled Zane’s scent, much stronger, and then he came jogging up to her. That suit just seemed to flow with him. He should be on the front cover of
GQ
.

“Where are we going?” he asked, slowing down to a stroll once he reached Wynona’s side.

“But…you…lunch?”

“Use complete sentences, Wynona,” Gillian chided her. “I know you can do it.”

Zane grinned at Wynona. “Your friend’s weird. I like her.”

“You’re finished with lunch?” Wynona managed.

“Looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“So…” She bit her lip, then forced herself to ask. “How did the lunch go?”

“It went exactly as planned.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Of course it had. Why had she fooled herself into thinking it would be otherwise?

“So…when do you want to see her again?” Her voice came out hoarse and shaken, and she felt ridiculous.

Zane pursed his lips, pretending to think about it before he finally answered her. “Oh, I’m thinking half past never-gonna-happen.”

Gillian’s brows puckered at that. “I don’t understand. We operate on Eastern Standard Time here. What time is that, exactly?”

Zane laughed. “That’s a fancy way of saying I’m not seeing her again.”

Wynona stopped in the street and stared at him. Gillian and Zane stopped too, looking at her expectantly. “But…you said it went perfectly.”

“No, I said it went exactly as planned. You planned out each thing you wanted me to do. I did everything on the list. I brought flowers. I showed up on time. I dressed up in this suit. I complimented her. I pretended to be interested in what she was saying.”

“What was she saying?”

He shrugged. “No idea. I think it was something like
blah, blah, blah, Brittany said, blah, blah, blah, new shoes
. I just nodded whenever she stopped speaking and said, ‘Really?’”

“Wow. Oh. Well…” He certainly had followed her instructions.

“You ready for some coffee?” He was acting like he hadn’t just hurled an enormous monkey wrench into the plans to get him mated to a rich heiress.

Her phone rang before she could answer, and she glanced at the screen and then answered it.

It was Cecily, demanding that she come right back to the restaurant.

She sighed. “I have to go talk to Cecily. Or I could just throw myself in front of a garbage truck – I imagine either possibility would be equally enjoyable.”

She turned around and walked back towards the restaurant. Zane and Gillian stood watching her, ready to run to her assistance if anyone were to come and try to murder her, she was sure.

Cecily and Hubert were standing outside Hamilton’s, fuming. Today Cecily was wearing a seersucker Lilly Pulitzer dress which had a print of giant slices of oranges on it, and Hubert wore a blue checked Armani sport coat, navy slacks and blue loafers. It was hard to tell, at a glance, which of them wore more thick chunky gold jewelry.

“Have you gone crazy? Zane said he’s staying at your house because there’s a possibility that someone is trying to kill you,” Cecily said indignantly.

“This was not in our contract,” Hubert added.

Wynona was about to interrupt and assure them that nothing was happening between her and Zane, but Cecily barreled on.

“Zane can’t stay with you if someone’s trying to kill you. We can’t risk him,” she hissed.

“Yes, he’s very precious to us,” Hubert added unconvincingly.

“In fact, we told him we were firing you, but then he said he refuses to mate with anyone ever unless you finish up his training, so I guess we’re stuck with you at the moment,” Cecily said bitterly. “I can see now that hiring you was an
enormous
mistake. We should have just pressed charges from the beginning.”

“But if anything happens to him because of you, I can assure you, you will go to prison for the rest of your life,” Hubert threatened.

“You don’t have that power,” Wynona said, although she prayed that was true. “A lot can happen at a trial, assuming it even got that far. And by the way, how do you know that somebody isn’t trying to kill Zane, rather than me? He was with me when somebody shot at me; they could have been aiming at either one of us.” In fact, now that they’d found out that somebody was bugging his phone and his bike, it seemed more likely that Zane was the target. Although she could swear that the grammar Nazi from the parking lot had something to do with all this, and he’d been waiting outside Wynona’s office building.

Hubert and Cecily glanced at each other in alarm.

“Well, we’ll just have to make do with this situation for now. He did make an excellent impression on Tiffany today, at least,” Cecily said. She glanced at Hubert with a wounded expression. “If he’s capable of being civilized, why can’t he always behave that way? It’s beyond me.”

“Soon he’ll be happily married to Tiffany, and that will give him all the incentive he needs to behave like a gentleman,” Hubert said with a big, false smile at his wife. Then he shot a dirty look at Wynona. “Don’t you dare screw this up for us.”

“You mean for Zane?” Wynona couldn’t help interjecting.

“Exactly,” Hubert said haughtily. “His future happiness depends on it.”

“Perhaps we should hire a bodyguard for him?” Cecily pondered, frowning.

“I doubt he’d allow it. He’s very stubborn,” Hubert said, shaking his head in exasperation.

“If you two will excuse me, Zane and I have some elocution lessons scheduled for this afternoon,” Wynona said, and left them there.

When they thought Wynona was out of earshot, Cecily said furiously, “Who could be trying to kill him? We can’t let anyone kill him – not ’til after the marriage. And not ’til after he fathers at least one cub. That would be a financial disaster.”

“You think you need to tell me that? I don’t know anyone who would have reason to try to kill Zane, but I’ll look into it, all right?”

Did they mean it would be okay for Zane to die after the marriage? She had a terrible feeling about this entire arrangement. She wouldn’t stand by and let that happen to him. If he did end up changing his mind and agreeing to marry Tiffany, she would at least warn him what he was facing. She would warn him even if it meant violating the non-disclosure agreement and possibly going to prison.

When she got back to Zane and Gillian, she said, “Did it occur to you guys that possibly someone is trying to kill Zane, not me?”

“Of course,” Zane said. “If someone’s bugging my phone and my ride, then they might be after me. But with that weird guy you met outside your office building following you around, they might be after me to get to you. We just don’t know yet. That’s why I’m going to be sticking with you like glue until we find out.” His eyes glowed an angry yellowish-brown for a second, as if he were mid shift. “And then I’m going to rip someone’s head off their body.”