E.A. Price - Valentine's Wolf (Grey Wolf Pack #11) (3 page)

His wolf wagged his tail and panted like a dog. Jake shook his head and sent out a message of sorry to him -
mating really wasn’t on the agenda
. He figured if he were ever lucky enough to meet his true mate then, yeah, he’d settle down, but he wasn’t going to date in the hopes of finding just anyone. He could be alone – hell, he’d been practicing it for years and had it down to an art form - and a little loneliness wasn’t going to suddenly make him run out and bond himself to just any woman.

His beast whined and clawed the ground in annoyance. Jake ignored him and got in his truck to drive home. The animal would get over the idea of being alone; god knows Jake had.
It wasn’t really that bad…

Chapter Three

27
th
February

Val stirred her martini. She hated martinis and only ordered one to make herself seem sophisticated.
Big mistake
. The ass sitting in front of her was hardly worth the bad taste in her mouth.

His profile really didn’t do him justice. Nope, his profile made him look like a really desirable package, and in real life he was anything but.

Yeah, he’d neglected to mention his three ex-wives, six kids and the fact that he was currently between jobs.
He didn’t want a girlfriend; he wanted a sucker to mooch off
. Okay, esthetically, he was pretty darn tasty – which went part way to explaining why so many women were willing to stand up and say ‘I do’ with him. Heck, if her ears weren’t working then she would be in big trouble from that boyish grin and that taut body but… her ears were working, and all she could focus on were the insipid comments falling out of his mouth.
No, she didn’t care how good he was at Call of Duty!
It had been downhill ever since he'd casually mentioned that he’d left his wallet at home and that she was going to have to pay for dinner…

Since posting her profile on Intimate Connections, she had been on five dates. She was thrilled at the attention her profile garnered, but five dates in she was feeling a little jaded.
And damnit, that ache in her stomach was only getting worse.

Date number one had been okay until his wife turned up and threw her martini all over her. Apparently he was using the dating site to cheat on his wife.
Asshole
.

Date number two was really bitter having just been divorced by his wife, and kept spouting misogynistic garbage.
Pig
.

Date number three was cute, but it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t yet 25 as he claimed. In fact, Val suspected that he was still shy of his 18th. Apparently, he just had a big thing for older women. She stopped that date quickly – there was no way in hell that she wanted to get arrested.
Jailbait.

Date number four was just plain creepy. He wanted to know all about her,
and not in a getting-to-know-you kind of way
. His questions were just too inquisitive, and he seemed a little too interested in her and her parentage.
What was he expecting her to say about her parents?
He was asking her all kinds of questions about her mom and her dad, and about their lives. It was weird; she soon nipped that in the bud and excused herself from that date. After that, he rang her a few times as well, asking to see her again and each time he was more insistent than the last. She stopped answering her phone and finally the calls stopped too.
Creep
.

Which led to date number five, who shall only be referred to as Sir Butthole. Shit, he was looking at her expectantly.

“Ummm yes?”

Sir Butthole slammed his hand down on the table making her jump. “Hell, yeah!” he cried happily.

Dang, what had she just agreed to?

“We are going to kick Los Lobos’ butts on Saturday!”

She groaned inwardly, and a part of her wanted to laugh. He was talking about football. Well, at least it was better than listening to him complaining about his ex-wives.

He launched into an offensive about how much Los Lobos’ football team sucked, only pausing to wink at the waitress as she delivered their entrées. The young woman blushed and giggled.
Oh, brother.

Val knocked back her martini and hastily ordered a bottle of the cheapest white wine on the menu.
It was going to be a long night.

*

Val let herself into her apartment and kicked off her shoes.

“Hello Tumbles, did you miss me?”

The indifferent cat raised his head to look at her, found nothing of interest and began licking his privates.

“I guess not. You’ll be completely unsurprised to learn that my date did not go well.”

Tumbles completely ignored her – he was far too engrossed in his task.
Yeah, she used to date someone who had the same fixation.

She trailed a path through her small home discarding clothing and jewelry before stepping into the shower. She turned the water up as hot as she dared and sighed as it cascaded over her aching muscles. Lord, she really shouldn’t be in this much pain – it wasn’t normal. Any day now, she would have to give in and see a doctor…
if only she weren't so terrified of them
. A condition she completely blamed her grandmother for. She’d heard far too many horror stories growing up to ever willingly want to walk into a hospital.

She waited until the water started to cool and, reluctantly, she got out the shower. She wrapped herself in a fluffy bathrobe and twisted a towel around her hair. She grabbed a couple of painkillers and a bottle of orange juice before settling in front of the TV to catch up on her missed shows. Honestly, her date was hardly worth missing The Real Housewives of Playa Lunar for.
She swore she only watched for the beautiful houses and locations, and she could quit anytime she wanted.

Val eyed her laptop. She should take her profile down and cancel her subscription to Intimate Connections. She was wasting her time; she didn’t know exactly what the man of her dreams would be like, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn’t be found on the dating site.

There were a number of men who had shown an interest in her profile and sent her a ‘love poke’ –
ugh, that made her cringe
– but she figured they would get over it.
Plenty more fish in the sea to send a love poke to.

Just as the show was getting good –
Brandine had just confessed to sleeping with Judy’s boyfriend!
– her intercom buzzed.

Damnit!
Someone was at the front door.

Val paused the TV and skittered over to the intercom, hoping to get rid of whoever it was quickly. Tumbles hissed and started spitting, but that wasn’t exactly unusual. The ornery cat didn’t like anyone – he only tolerated Val because she fed him.

“Yes?” she demanded irritably through the intercom.

There was a pause on the other end. Security in her building wasn’t exactly great, she’d have preferred to live somewhere that had someone sat at reception who could see visitors coming and going, but the fact that you had to buzz people in was better than nothing. Of course, it didn’t stop unwanted guests tailgating behind actual occupants of the building.

“Is that Val?” asked the voice tentatively.

Val tapped her foot impatiently. “It is.”

“It’s Lester, can you let me in?”

Lester? Who was Lester?
Oh, it clicked, Lester was bad date number four – the creep. “I don’t think so…”

“Let me in,” the voice demanded coldly.

Val felt a chill of fear flutter up her spine.
How did he find out where she lived?
He certainly hadn’t dropped her at home. “Please leave, Lester.”

“Open the fucking door!”

She jumped in surprise and scrambled away from her front door like she expected him to burst through it any second. No, it was fine, he was still outside the main door downstairs and she was safely ensconced on the second floor.
She was safe… for now.

“Open the door you disgusting half-breed!” the voice rattled over the intercom.

With trembling fingers, Val grabbed her cell phone and punched in 911. In a jittery voice, she told the operator that a crazy guy was trying to get into her apartment. She’d taken self-defense classes in college, but had never needed to use them before. Except for that one Halloween party where a drunken classmate dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out just how much she remembered of those classes at that moment.

Five minutes later, crouched in her kitchen holding a spatula for defense, she saw the bright red and blue lights flickering through the window and she breathed a small sigh of relief, although she couldn’t stop her hands shaking.

By the times the cops arrived, Lester was long gone, but they made a report and took all the details they could about him. They were kind to her, but they made it clear that it was unlikely that they could do anything about him. Even if Lester admitted to being there, all they could do was give him a warning not to come back.

One of the cops was overly attentive and gave her a card; he told her to call if Lester came back. If she weren’t so shaken, she might have actually been able to appreciate it, but at that moment all she wanted to do was climb into bed and forget the whole night ever happened. That was exactly what she did do when she was finally alone, and after having rechecked the locks on her door and windows seven times.

Tumbles, in a fit of compassion, jumped on the bed and lay next to her, even allowing her to stroke him.
He hadn’t allowed that since he was a kitten.

After staring at the ceiling for an hour she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, the words ‘disgusting half-breed’ nagging at her.

*

28
th
February

Val rested her head on her hand and closed her eyes.
Mmmm, she was just closing her eyes for a few seconds…

“Val!” boomed Conrad.

Her elbow slipped, and her head banged against the desk. She withheld the ‘damnit’ and the ‘ow’ that wanted to escape.

Her tall, salt and pepper boss chuckled heartily. “Good night last night?”

Val let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you have no idea.”

She detected a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll bet I can.”

She bet he couldn’t…
On the plus side, at least she had a boss who was a little pervy, and who was tickled at the thought of her being wanton. It was easier to handle than a tight-ass boss who was pissed at her for almost falling asleep.
Although she wished he wouldn’t leer at her ass quite so often.

Conrad perched on the edge of her desk, and she really wished she’d taken the time to put on a little more makeup that morning. Honestly, she had been yawning so hard she could barely drag a comb through her hair.

He clasped his hands together and gave her his best fatherly smile. It was totally at odds with his gaze lingering over her breasts. Of course, if she hadn’t dropped a spoonful of hummus down her shirt over lunch, his eyes might not have been so deliberately drawn there.

“So, Val, you’ve been with the company for what? Six years now?”

“Seven.”

“Yes, seven years. And you started your job here in the finance department…”

“As your assistant.”

Where was this going?
Crud, was he going to fire her for sleeping on the job? It had never happened before… well, maybe just once or twice when her next-door neighbor’s sex-mad daughter and boyfriend were visiting.
They could go for hours…

“Of course. But now you’re the…”

“Office manager.”
She thought it best just to tell him.

“Right, well, I have excellent news for you.”

“Oh?”

Well, that sounded hopeful; put whatever spin you want on it, but nobody could really construe getting fired as actually being excellent.

“You’re receiving a promotion.”

Conrad grinned at her, and Val blinked in surprise.

“Oh?”

Okay, she was perplexed. She hadn’t heard anything about this before. This was completely out of the blue. Getting promotions in this company was akin to squeezing blood from a particularly stubborn stone.

“Yes, I just met with John and Gary and we’d like to make you a Project Manager.”

Val’s mouth gaped. John, Gary and Conrad were the heads of the company, having founded it together fresh out of college thirty years ago. The company handled construction design and management and was pretty successful.

“You want to make me a Project Manager?” she asked slowly.

“Absolutely! Congratulations.”

She bit her lip.
Was it April? Was this an April fools joke?

“Conrad, I’m not qualified to…”

He waved his hand. “Nonsense, we’ve been watching your career closely for the last six years,”
she didn’t bother to correct him
, “and after all your experience we think this is the natural step for you. Normally, we would expect you to have the appropriate degree, but with your own qualification of, ah, uh….”

“Business with a minor in art history,” she supplied quietly.
Yep, learning about Leonardo Da Vinci was really going to come in handy.

“Exactly, with that, and all your hands on experience with the company, you’re a natural to take over the job vacated by Glenn.”

“Glenn’s leaving the company?”

“Sure is,” replied Conrad tightly.

Glenn, Conrad’s golden boy? The golf playing, martini swigging son he never had was actually leaving? That was news to her, and judging by Conrad’s slight reaction, it wasn’t good news all round. Val assumed that Glenn was waiting for Conrad to have a heart attack while bouncing around a high-end hotel with one of his many 20-year-old mistresses so he could take the older man’s place.