Bride of the Alpha (8 page)

She became an alcoholic. She just wanted to be loved, and man after man kept rejecting her, and she drank more and more…”

“Anyway, she pretty much drank herself into alcoholic dementia by the time I was in my mid teens, and

eventually wandered into the woods and died of exposure. When I was growing up, I sort of drifted around from one family to another, learned to take care of myself young, got a waitressing job when I was

fourteen…”

“Your pack should have taken better care of you,” Max said fiercely. “They failed you.”

I was taken aback. I’d never thought of it that way. I mean, they made sure I had food and a roof over

my head. I always had a couch to sleep on. People set aside their hand me down clothes for me. It was

more like benign neglect; it was a lonely way to grow up, but I’d made it.

“My aunt Prudence would always call to check on me,” I said. “We keep in touch. It wasn’t so bad. I

learned to take care of myself. I got used to being alone.”

He reached down and squeezed my knee. “You’re not alone now,” he said quietly.

That made me blink really hard so the tears that suddenly filled my eyes wouldn’t spill down my

cheeks. He pretended not to notice.

This tender, protective side of him caught me completely off guard.

“You Timber Valley shifters aren’t what I expected,” I said.

“You can’t believe everything you hear.”

I realized we were pulling up in front of a diner called Flapjack Fannie’s. It was a long, low slung

building, painted green, with a big gravel parking lot, a few miles away from the Timber Valley compound.

There was a big sign over the building with a picture of a woman flipping pancakes. “Hey, aren’t we going back to the wedding suite?” Oh, I was shameless.

“I thought you’d be hungry,” he said. “Besides, I want to show you off.”

Business was hopping inside. All the round spinning seats at the counter were taken, and most of the

booths were full, and there was a loud, happy buzz of conversation.

Most of the customers there were various species of shifters, but to my surprise, there was a family of humans sitting at a table by the window. A mom, a dad, four kids, cheerfully tucking into mountains of

fluffy pancakes, topped with a big slab of butter. They had no idea that they were in a restaurant full of wolf, mountain lion, coyote, and bobcat shifters. I could tell just by scenting.

Maxwell led me over to a table on the opposite end of the restaurant.

“What are they doing here?” I whispered. There was no reason for them, or any human, to visit Timber

Valley. Timber Valley, on any human map, was nothing but a small logging town with no tourist attractions, no hotel, no motel. It was several miles off the main road.

“They got lost,” the waitress, a fiftyish wolf shifter with a blond beehive and blue eyeshadow, said to us in a low voice. “They came in looking for directions and stayed for lunch. We couldn’t exactly say we were closed for business, with all these other customers here. It would seem weird if we turned them away.” She shrugged. “They’ll eat, we’ll steer them back to the main road, they’ll leave.”

We sat down at the table, and I ordered the Lumberjack’s delight.

“Give her extra sausages,” Max told the waitress. “They’re the specialty of the house,” he added to me.

“And you’re going to need your strength.” He winked at me.

My God, a hot sexy Alpha who was great in bed, and who actually wanted me to eat hearty? Why did

this marriage have to be fake?

Well, I told myself, I was stuck here for the next three weeks, so I might as well enjoy the masquerade.

I’d be apparently forced to continue to eat delicious meals and bunk down with a muscular hottie with an insatiable sex drive. Poor, poor me.

A coyote walked in to the restaurant through the side door, took one look at me, and let out a long,

approving howl, his snout lengthening and his face going hairy as he did. I froze where I sat. Max set down the cup of coffee that the waitress had just put in front of him. The coyote hadn’t spotted the humans yet.

He followed everyone’s gaze and looked at them, and instantly his face went back to human, but it was

too late.

“Crap. Sorry,” he muttered, hanging his head.

The family stared at him, mouths hanging open, eyes huge with panic. All chatter died out. Everyone in

the restaurant fell silent.

A gray-haired wolf shifter jumped up from his seat and rushed over to the human family’s table. He

raised his hand and began talking to them, and I could see their eyes glaze over.

“Your shaman?” I asked.

“Yep,” Max nodded, glowering at the shifter who’d howled at me. “My uncle Cody. Thank God he’s a

good one.”

Cody was hypnotizing them to forget the moron who’d howled. That was the unique ability of the

shaman. Every pack had at least one. It was a genetic mutation. Among their powers was the ability to

hypnotize humans, and make them forget anything suspicious that they’d seen. It was theorized that shifters had evolved this protective ability the same way that chameleons had developed the ability to change colors.

That was why shifters had managed to stay hidden from humans all these years.

Of course, shamans didn’t always get to humans in time. That was why there were werewolf legends (mostly inaccurate) and werewolf movies. However, thanks to shifters tending to live away from human

populations, and the power of our shamans, humans believe that we were just scary fables.

The humans got up and left. “He’s also hypnotizing them to forget this restaurant. They’ll just go on

their way safely to their destination, and never even remember this place,” Max said.

“Close one,” I said, turning back to my coffee.

“It’s a good thing Cody was here,” Max agreed, nodding. “Otherwise we would have had to hold them

here until he got here, they would have freaked out…it would have been ugly.”

He shrugged, reached out, and grabbed my hand. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant…like what

I’m going to do to you when we get back to the bridal chamber. I think your little fiasco with your friends calls for another punishment…and this time, I’m choosing the method.”

Chapter Eight

“I can barely walk,” I moaned to Maxwell on Sunday afternoon. We were sprawled on a porch swing

on the back porch, with a breathtaking view of the white-capped mountains. Max was shirtless and

barefoot, only wearing his pants. I wore a tank-top and pajama shorts.

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to do it just one more time,” he said, kissing my ear.

“Well, why would you listen to me? I’m clearly a moron.” I sat up, slowly and gingerly. He wrapped his

arms around my waist and pulled me back against him, nuzzling my neck and sending shivers down my

spine.

“That’s true, but you’re a hot sexy moron who was asking for more sex, so I threw common sense and

caution to the wind.”

“My poor vajajay,” I groaned. “She needs an ice pack. And a day off. If you want to come again, we

will have to explore alternative methods.”

“I can think of many. I’ve demonstrated some,” he said.

I leaned back and sighed. The sky was blue, the air smelled like pine needles and sex and summer, life

was good.

“Oh yeah? What else ya got?” I really wanted to know.

“That information will be revealed on a need to know basis,” he grinned at me.

“By the way, what are you planning on telling Kray’s pack? And when?” I asked.

He frowned. “There’s no need to tell him anything right now. I don’t want you to have to worry about

my problems, Josephine. It’s my job to handle that kind of stuff.”

“Oh yeah? What’s my job?”

He laughed. “Your job is to satisfy me sexually, make me laugh, socialize with my pack members, and

satisfy me sexually.”

“Ah ha. I see where your priorities lie. You pervert. So, only some of the things they say about the

Timber Valley Pack are wrong.”

He laughed, but before he could answer, his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket. He grabbed it,

looked at it, and frowned. “I need to take this. Wait here for me; I’ll be right back.”

He got up and walked away quickly, talking quietly into the phone. “Hold on just a minute, I’m going

out back so I can talk,” he called out to me.

I sat there feeling unsettled. I had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want me to see who’d called, and he clearly didn’t want me to listen in on his conversation. Why?

Was he talking to some hot shifter babe, and if so, did I have any right to be jealous? I’d tricked my way in here, and he’d agreed to stay married to me to help Camille…then again, if he had planned on marrying Camille, he should have severed any romantic ties he’d had before.

Or had he called up some former flame and let them know that they didn’t have to end things, because

he would be single again in a few weeks and his marriage was a sham?

That wasn’t the impression that I’d gotten from him up until now, but the fact that he’d practically run off to answer the phone call took me by surprise.

I sat there and stewed for a few minutes until he came back and sat down on the porch swing. “So,

where were we?” he asked, idly trailing a finger up the inside of my thigh. “Oh yes, I was talking about your duties as my sex slave.”

“Quick question,” I said. “I know this is a weird situation, with the fake marriage, and me pretending to be your wife for three weeks and all. What are the rules?”

“Rules?”

“Well, I assume we’re not seeing other people for the duration, right?”

He stared at me in astonishment, then threw back his head and laughed.

“Are you serious? You even have to ask?”

I didn’t want to tell him that I was asking because of the phone call, because that made me sound petty and jealous.

I shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s talk about practical things, like the fact that I need clothing. My

apartment is about two hours drive from here. My car’s parked there too. Should I go and pack up what I need?”

“You can just go into town to the Timber Valley mercantile and get whatever you need,” Maxwell said.

“Put it on the Battle family’s tab, if I’m not with you when you’re shopping.”

Outside, slicing through the stillness, we heard the rumble of a truck approaching, with wheels rolling over dirt.

“Hello, who’s come up here to interrupt my honeymoon weekend? Let’s see who wants their ass kicked

today.” Max got up and walked over to the pickup truck that had just pulled up front.

When he came back, his face was like thunder – and it looked as if he was mad at me.

“What is it?” I asked, shocked at the expression on his face. What could he possibly be angry about?

He’d already found out the worst thing possible, which was that I’d disguised myself as Camille on his

wedding day.

“Was there a reason you just asked me if we’re seeing other people?” he demanded. “Or do you just

have a really warped sense of humor? Because I’m telling you, Josephine, this isn’t the least bit funny.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My men are telling me that a wolf shifter just pulled up to our front gate. He says he’s here to pick you up for your date,” he said.

Chapter Nine

“My date?” I said, bewildered.

“Peter Fallworth?”

Oh, dear God. My blind date. What the hell was he doing here? He and I were supposed to get together

at my home town of River Run, two hours away. How would he even know I was here?

“But…I made a date with him before I knew I was getting married.” That was kind of sort of true, even.

“And you told him to come here?” Max looked outraged. This was serious. This was bad. This was the

kind of thing that undermined an Alpha’s authority.

“No, we were supposed to meet in Riverbank, at a coffee shop. I told Bess to cancel it for me. I’ll have to call her to find out what the hell happened. Seriously, Max, Peter had no idea that I was getting married.

You know how last minute all of this was,” I said.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocketbook.

He grabbed it from me. “No, you don’t.”

“Excuse me?” I said, outraged.

“I have had enough of being treated with disrespect by those two troublemakers. He showed up at my

gate and made me look like a fool. I am within my rights to issue Peter a death challenge, do you realize that?”

I swallowed hard. He was indeed within his rights.

“I do realize that, and I’m really, really sorry this happened. If you challenge him, Max, you would be killing an innocent wolf. I don’t know how he ended up here, but I swear to you he had no idea I was

married. I mean, nobody does. My family doesn’t even know.”

I reached out to grab my cell phone back, and he tossed it to the floor and stomped it to pieces.

“How dare you?” I yelled.

“As long as you are a member of my pack, you will not speak to those two again,” he said, and turned

and walked towards his truck.

“You can sleep by yourself tonight, you Neanderthal!” I yelled at his retreating back.

“With pleasure!” he yelled back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go tell a wolf that he’s not

going to be going on any dates with my wife!”

Thank God I was missing out on that conversation, I thought, wincing. I imagined it would involve a

lot of groveling and apologies on Peter’s part, and a lot of growled threats on Max’s part. I also imagined Peter was going to be one very, very angry wolf.

That made two of us. I had to get ahold of Bess as soon as I could, to rip her a new one. She could have gotten Max killed. If Max had been the same kind of Alpha that Kray was, than Peter would already be

dead.

I watched Max climb into his pickup truck and drive off. Great. Married two days, and already we were