Say You're Mine (2 page)

“What are you, a stalker?” Her words held an edge.

“I told you, I need a moment of your time.”

“You said five minutes and I said no. After which you trail me here. What gives?”

“Give me my five minutes?” She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you would like to sit, rest your leg.”

Her expression grew angry. “I’m not an invalid and I suggest you change the ’tude if you don’t want to lose your family jewels.”

Feisty. And not swooning over him. He took a chance and reached for her. Were she wolf he would have sworn her eyes changed. “To the side?”

She led the way and he found he was staring at her ass and tried to stop. Tried.

“Speak.”

“Do you really not know who I am?”

“Besides my apparent new stalker? No.”

“I’m your husband and I need you to sign some papers so we can be divorced, in order for me to marry my mate.”

In the flashing and strobe lights from the party he watched her expression. She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then she laughed.

αβ

Dyana gulped air as fast as she could. Difficult to do as hard as she was laughing. Her husband. Correction. Her husband whom she’d never met and wanted her agreement on a divorce so he could marry another.

Lord, her gut hurt from her laughter. Slanting her gaze askew, she knew he was less than thrilled by her behavior. He stood, feet braced apart, shoulder width and his arms were crossed. The scowl on his face would have sent her packing for the hills had she not still been doubled over.

Man was hot. As in panty-soaking hot. Not an ounce of fat on him and she couldn’t help being impressed with his blatant muscles. His jeans were drool-worthy and his black shirt sent her mind down a road she didn’t need to travel. Especially with a
divorce
on the horizon. His leather coat enhanced his movement.

He was big, powerful, and intimidating.
And according to him, all mine.
At least until she signed some papers. Her body reacted sexually and she swore his eyes changed, giving him an almost wild look.

“I’m sorry, hoss. Did you just roll up on me and say you were my husband?”

He stepped closer and she found herself surrounded by an amazing—and arousing—masculine scent. Ignoring her physical reaction to him, she mimicked him, crossing her arms.

“How can you not know?”

“Prob because it didn’t happen. Pretty sure I would remember getting married.”

One of the strobes slashed over him and for the second time in mere moments she compared him to a wild animal. A predator.

“You’re going to have to—” His cell rang and he snapped a greeting in it.

When he turned away, she went back to the party. She stood with Shyla and Regina by the food tables, eating chips, when he showed up again.

“We hadn’t finished talking.”

Her girls gave her a look she understood. And she delivered a one-fingered salute right back to them. “You were the one who took a phone call.”

A few people jostled her as they went down the line. He scowled.

“I need you to come to Washington with me.”

She almost choked. Bless her friends, they immediately stepped near. Shyla began tapping her foot.

“Why are you following her? What do you want with our Yana?”

Sucking her finger clean of the flavor from the chips, Dyana cleared her throat. “Allow me to add in something he left out before when he introduced himself. He’s my husband.”

“What?” Regina.

“Excuse me?” Shyla.

She drank some beer. “Yeah, go figure, huh. Guess I went n’ married someone without knowing it.” Dyana winked at her friends before staring back into those light, bold, blue eyes. “I forget, how long have we been married, hoss?”

“Can we go somewhere and talk about this?”

“Sure,” she said drolly, finishing her beer. “Would you like me to just take a roofie and save you the problem of a struggle?”

He blinked, drawing back as a furrow appeared in his brow. “You think I want to drug you?”

“The thought
had
crossed my mind. You’re stalking me and now want me to go across the country with you. How shall I put this? If that’s your pickup line, it needs a serious overhaul. I ain’t going anywhere with you. Goodbye, Casimir Lars.”

She gave him a smile. Leaving, she tossed her bottle, like she was shooting a three-pointer, into a recycling bin as they passed it.

“Is he really your husband?” Shyla asked as they piled into Regina’s convertible.

Dyana hooked her belt and held up her left hand. “Ain’t no ring on my finger that I see.”

They laughed until Regina spoke. “He’s watching you.”

Unease slithered up her spin and Dyana forced herself not to turn around. She did steal a glance in the side mirror, however. Her body tensed and she shivered.

“You okay, hon?” Shyla asked.

“Hmm? Yes, fine.” She fought the urge to rub her arms.

“We can let Markus know.” Regina glanced at her.

She chewed on her thumbnail and shifted a bit to alleviate the pain in her leg. Marked. That’s how she felt. And it was more than a bit unnerving.

“Yes. Swing by the station.”

“I was going to anyway.”

Dyana smiled at Regina’s comment. “I know you were.” These two were her family, her counsel, and her best friends.

Regina turned up the music as they left the party. It was cool enough for her jacket but not cold enough for the top. So, she enjoyed the wind flowing over her. Crisp weather was her favorite, it made her feel so alive.

Twenty minutes later, they whipped into the police department parking lot. With a deep breath, Dyana headed for the door as her girls followed. Pushing into the station, she glanced around. It was quiet despite being a Saturday night.

“Markus, you here?”

“Gettin’ coffee. Come on back.”

They went through the swinging door and met him in the break room. Markus Colter was a good sheriff. He’d taken over for his daddy five years ago. A handsome man with his thick black hair and muscular build.

He added a liberal amount of sugar then lifted his head. “My three fave gals. What can I do for you?”

“Yana has a stalker,” Shyla blurted out.

All trace of welcome and humor vanished in the space of a heartbeat. “Repeat that?”

“A stalker.” Shyla gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t think it’s fair to call him that, exactly.” Why those words had slipped from her mouth, she hadn’t a clue.

“The hell it isn’t. He was in the coffee house, on the street, and at the party—which is small and quiet, Sheriff.”

“If he was a stalker, Shyla, why would he have given his name?” she protested. Why was she protecting him? She didn’t know since earlier she’d called him that same thing.

“Casimir Lars,” Regina said. “Probably a made up name.”

“Don’t forget he’s claiming to be your husband.” Shyla’s interjection wasn’t needed. Nor appreciated.

Dyana rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “I thought I was supposed to talk to Markus.”

“You’re not talkin—”

“Stop.” Markus held up a finger, shushing Shyla. “I need to see if I have this straight. Out and take a seat.”

Obediently they went to the main part of the station and each took a chair. Markus sat on the edge of the desk and leaned in close.

“Start over, Dyana.”

Why were her hands shaking? She dampened her lips and looked to her friends for encouragement.

“He was—as Shyla said—at my table inside the coffee shop. Didn’t say anything although he looked as if he wanted to speak, he didn’t.” She readjusted her seat and hooked her ankles before her. “He showed up again outside Loralee’s stall. It was there he told me his name. Like I should know it. Then once more at the party where he also informed me he was my husband. Later on it became I needed to go with him to Washington. That’s when we left and came here.”

Markus frowned. “Are you sure of the name?”

“Yes. Casimir Lars.”

Markus appeared uncomfortable and a bit worried. She’d known him long enough to recognize the look.

“Do you know him?”

“Heard of him.”

Something in his tone alerted her to the fact he wasn’t being entirely honest with her. And it wasn’t solely because he wouldn’t meet her gaze—although that had to do with it. He suddenly became fidgety, messing with the handle of his mug and twitching his foot.

She leaned back and crossed her arms. “If you can just—I don’t know—make sure I don’t disappear, I’d be grateful.”

“Right. Y’all should get goin’. I’ll head out to the party and see if he’s still there or not.”

She licked her lips. “And if he is?”

“Then I’ll have a word with him. Sheriff to visitor.”

This was the Markus she recalled. Protective. Sure of himself. Not the one who appeared nervous by her pronouncement.

“Thanks, Markus.”

He flashed a familiar grin. “You sure you didn’t go off and get married without telling us?”

She raised a brow. “Positive.”

He winked and drained his coffee. “Go home. Sleep. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Dyana rose and kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, Markus.”

They all walked outside and leaned against the vehicle.

Shyla tapped her foot on the dirt parking lot. “You want us to stay with you tonight?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I mean, you can stay if you want but I don’t
need
you to.”

“We’re staying.” They spoke as one unit.

“Of course you are.” Her response came with a smile.

Once at her small house, they whipped up breakfast. Not for any other reason than breakfast was an awesome meal, anytime one ate it. Dyana made sure they were settled before she went and began massaging her leg. The dancing was going to cost her. She grinned. It had been well worth it.

“Hello?” Casimir answered without looking at the screen.

“Hey, lover,” the husky voice belonging to Jetje said. “Did you get it?”

“Not yet.”

A grumble crossed the line and he frowned. Jetje was already anticipating being the Alpha’s mate. His mate. She was an alpha but he’d noticed a mean streak in her lately. Firm hand was one thing. Being mean, an entirely different matter.

“What’s she like?”

The question gave him pause. “Just a woman. Paps said I had to bring her there, you can find out for yourself.”

This time it was a full-on growl. “Why are you bringing her here?”

Both Casimir and his wolf bared their teeth. “You do not question my actions,” he said on a dangerous thread.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand why she is coming here.”

“Paps said the papers have to be signed there. I have to go.” He hung up. Ignoring his angry wolf, Casimir walked back to his car. She’d left again and he wasn’t pleased. Why did she need to make it so damn difficult?

A figure stepped from the dark shadows and he found himself staring at a man with a badge on his chest.

“Yes?”

“What’s your business with Dyana Vance?”

The posture and the attitude were expected; it was, after all, this man’s town to protect. However, neither man nor beast liked being challenged.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s my job to protect my residents. I know who you are, Mr. Lars. Let me tell you how little I care how much money you have. You scare my girl again and I’ll lock you up.”

“Your girl?”

“Dyana.”

His gaze narrowed. “She is my wife and my responsibility to protect.” He couldn’t explain his need to claim her.

“Your wife? Protect? You know nothing about her nor have you been protecting her. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you kidnap her and try to take her from here, things won’t go well for you. No matter what your kind can do.”

So this man knew he was a shifter. “Are you threatening me?”

The sheriff adjusted his stance, his hand resting upon the butt of his weapon. “Nope, that’s a promise. We’re protective of our women here. Don’t make a mistake you’ll end up regretting.”

“Goodnight, Sheriff.” He went to his car and slid behind the wheel. So far this expedition sucked.

As he drove he wondered if he should be concerned about his wolf’s unemotional response to Jetje when he heard her voice. They would lead his pack but there was no all-consuming need with her wolf as others had told him happened to them when they found their mates.

Their wolves liked one another but that was it. Since he’d stopped their physical relationship the moment he learned he had a wife, he’d been a bit surprised by his lack of desire for sex.

Jetje hadn’t been pleased by his decision but he refused to violate his marriage vows. He’d be lying if his “wife” didn’t stir him a bit. He wasn’t putting a lot of stock in it for her friends did as well. It had been a while since he had a woman.

I have to talk to her.
He parked his car at his hotel and stayed in until he was confident the one following him for the sheriff thought he’d bedded down for the night. Then he slipped out and shifted.

His wolf responded, eager to run and get his exercise. He ran aimlessly for a while before he began to hunt for her. His wife.

After a good thirty minutes of searching he came back upon her scent. The convertible sat out front, engine cold and quiet, just like the house. Small, it blended in fairly well with the landscape. Nothing pretentious, just a simple place.

Ensuring he was the only one lurking around, he went to each window until discovering the one she slept behind. The window was low and he could see in from the ground. Moonlight threw a silver cast over her sleeping form.

She slept on her left side, hands folded beneath her chin. A small section of her hair fell across her face. Again he checked with his wolf, who sensed nothing wolf within her.

Long curved lashes graced her cheeks as she lay there. Her skin flawless, a somewhat flatter nose and full lips. Why had she been married to him? Why did his grandparents do it?

Even his wolf was perplexed. Why her?

The sounds of her stirring woke him. He was shocked to learn he’d fallen asleep outside her window. Morning’s sun had barely begun to creep over the horizon.
Wonder why she’s up.