Wolf at Law by Heather Long (4 page)

After several minutes, Ryan still hadn’t returned. She finally relented, ate the food he’d paid for and drank the coffee. It was a little bit of hedonism, a forbidden treat because he’d given it as a gift. Maybe she should have listened to him. Maybe he could help.

Yeah, and lawyers walk up to offer their services every day.
 God, what if Giles had figured out what she was up to? What if he’d sent Ryan to test her? Fear pitted her stomach. Not accepting his offer and ignoring him may have saved her life—kept her with her daughter longer so she could figure a way out. The idea of Ryan in cahoots with Giles made her vaguely ill.

Good looking doesn’t mean good soul, Tif.
Not that she needed the reminder. Or maybe she did. Because when her meal was done and the coffee was drunk, she continued to sit, tracing the letters of his name on the card. Heroes didn’t rescue the damsels trapped in the dungeon. Princes didn’t exist, not in a world filled with beasts. Who knew that better than her?

Still, wouldn’t it be grand if they did?

Tiffany Anderson Taglioni, wife of Giles Taglioni, twenty-three years old. Raised by an alcoholic, single mother after her dope dealing father was shot when Tiffany was three, she hadn’t caught any breaks in her young life. She was a high school dropout, married far too young, and the mother of one little girl—Alexis. The information Ryan had put together didn’t paint a pretty picture of the life Tiffany had led.

No one had to tell him her marriage wasn’t a good one. The signs were stamped all over her beautiful face. She certainly applied expert cosmetics, but he could still see the faint traces of swelling, the older bruises. At one point yesterday, when she’d slapped her hand on the table, he’d seen fear dilate her eyes. He also saw the old marks on her forearms.

Marks made by someone gripping her too tightly. Ryan had already ordered a report on Giles Taglioni—age thirty-two, the eldest son of a family with deep pockets and ties to organized crime. The man lived in a modest apartment where he kept his wife, but he also had at least two mistresses and numerous other assignations around the city. He owned a dozen strip clubs, three bars, and currently had his fingers in about fifteen separate construction projects. His family was also interested in the land Ryan had come to Chicago to purchase.

Wealthy. Connected. Dangerous.
 

Still considering the man, Ryan glanced across the street to the law offices of Flanders and Argos. Tiffany had walked in their door at nine a.m., sharp. The fifteenth such law office she’d visited in the three days Ryan had followed her, she always entered determined and left a little bit defeated. Each time, the faint slump to her shoulders cut at him. When he’d given her his card, he’d intended to solve the issue, but she’d stood up to him, refused his assistance and rather than push her—he’d allowed her to push him away.

The door to the building opened and Tiffany exited, shoulders down.

Dammit.
What the hell were those lawyers so worried about that they kept turning her away? He wanted to cross the street, sweep her up and carry her back to his hotel. To hell with the hotel, he longed to take her to Willow Bend where he could lock her up and make her tell him what was wrong so he could fix it.

Neither desire was an option. Wolves who’d taken the kind of abuse Tiffany had did one of two things—they went mad or they dropped, crippled, and kept their heads and tails down. She could still smile, still see joy. All the evidence he needed to know that he’d seen in how she spoke to her daughter.

Giles Taglioni abused his wife.

Ryan needed to kill him, but the wholesale slaughter of humans was against pack law. He would need a reason beyond the bastard needed to die. Tiffany stood on the sidewalk while pedestrians swarmed past her, all hurrying in one direction or another. She didn’t set off for the elevated train or any other direction for that matter. The longer she lingered, the more worried Ryan grew. He tucked the files into his briefcase in preparation to step out of the coffee shop he’d settled in to wait when Tiffany turned and looked directly at him.

The shop window’s glass was tinted, so he didn’t think she could see him clearly, but her route brought her across the street and to the front door. It jingled when it opened, and she didn’t look at the service staff, but toward him.

Approval raced up his spine and pride filled his belly. Tiffany was a tall, lean woman with an almost gorgeous air of fragility about her, but the surface gentility disguised a strength he’d recognized at their first meeting. The corners of her mouth turned down in disapproval and the faint lines around her eyes tightened with a frown. She wasn’t happy to discover his presence.

She adjusted the strap of her purse and weaved through the tables to his. Rising to his feet, he waited for her to demand what he was doing there.

“I want to ask you a question,” she said in a quiet voice.

Surprised, but willing to follow her lead, he nodded. “Of course. Can I get you a cup of coffee or something to eat while we talk?”

With a wave of her hand, she cut off his offer. “My question first. Do you work for Giles?”

He’d expected any number of accusations or even recriminations, but for her to ask if he work for her bastard husband?  “No.” The word didn’t quite come out on a growl, but he and his wolf were in perfect agreement. They didn’t draw attention to themselves unless necessary. They preferred silent, patient stalking and an even quieter strike. They didn’t need anyone to see the power they possessed to know they possessed it.

She sucked on her upper lip, indecision written across her face. With determination, she met and held his gaze. His wolf settled and they let her inspect him. Keeping his arms loose at his sides and not reaching out to embrace her to let her know she wasn’t alone flew in the face of the tactile nature of wolves, but Tiffany wasn’t ready for comforting.

Not yet.

“I want to believe you.”

“You can,” he promised her. “Please, sit. Join me and let me get you some coffee.”

Still undecided, she hesitated. “Are you really an attorney?”

“Yes,” he said. Taking the risk of spooking her, he circled the table and drew out a chair for her.

Fidgeting with her purse, she took a half-step toward the offered seat then hesitated again. “Do you work Giles’ family or anyone associated with them?”

His wolf stiffened as did Ryan’s spine. Meeting her gaze, he kept his expression solemn, but nothing could remove the steel from his tone. “I swear to you, I have nothing to do with your husband, his family or his businesses.”

Trust me.
The wolf disliked the idea that she didn’t, but Ryan was infinitely more patient. She rewarded him for that patience when she finally sagged into the chair. Longing to run his fingers across her skin, he withdrew his hands.

“I’ll get your coffee.” He left her to sit, to relax and to build some confidence in her decision while he went to the counter. During the time it took him to get her coffee and a danish, she finally unclenched her fingers from the strap of her purse and set it down on the floor, though he noticed she kept her booted foot firmly placed on it.

No one would take her belongings, but she didn’t know she could relax in the safety Ryan could offer her. Not yet.

But she will.

Surprise filtered through the wariness in her expression when he set the pastry and coffee in front of her. “You seem to like feeding me.”

“I like a lot of things about you,” he told her easily, then resumed his seat. It was too far from hers, but he wanted to keep her safe. He stretched out his legs and let his foot rest on the lower rung of her chair. The action settled his wolf. “How are you?”

Clearly she hadn’t been expecting small talk, because she frowned. “I’m fine.” A lie which turned her sweet, minty scent sour. Forgiving her the deception because she didn’t know him yet, he studied her. “If you don’t work for Giles or his family, why are you following me?”

Of all the questions he’d considered hearing from her, the level of awareness she maintained impressed him. Then again, he already suspected abuse. Violence had a way of either dulling or sharpening the senses. “Because I like you, as I said,” he told her. She deserved honesty, so he would give it to her.
I think you’re beautiful and a little lost.
“I want to help you.”

Her mouth fell open in a soundless ‘o’ then snapped shut again. “I’m sorry, you don’t know me.”

“No, but I want to. What I’ve seen so far, I definitely like.” Telling her he’d had her investigated would likely have the opposite effect of earning trust, so he refrained for the time being. “I’ve seen a determination in you and a fight. You’re getting a lot of doors closed in your face, but you aren’t giving up. You’ve had a hard life, but you still have a sense of hope and joy. You love your daughter more than you love yourself.”

Her daughter.

The little girl was the key to her—the reason for her actions, her determination and her fierce spirit. She was a mother protecting her young. Would she accept his mentioning her as a point of order or take it as a gauntlet being thrown down?

Instead of answering immediately, she took a drink of her coffee and dropped her gaze to the pastry. The rumble of her stomach echoed audibly to him, but he didn’t react to it. Most polite people wouldn’t, not to mention the average human probably wouldn’t hear her stomach. His wolf didn’t give a damn what the average human would do, but it trusted the man’s intellect, so they continued to watch and wait.

“I don’t have a lot of money,” she said, her voice whisper-soft. “Barely any, really, but I have enough for a retainer. I need someone who Giles can’t scare off. Most lawyers I’ve talked to won’t go up against his family.”

She wanted someone to take on her husband? No problem. Curling his fingers, he tucked away the enthusiasm for blood.
Hunting humans is forbidden.
For the first time in his life, however, Ryan understood the desire to hunt them, or in this instance, one in particular. The leap to violence was not one he made normally, but he would make an exception in her case.

“I could give a damn about him.” It came out harsher than intended as evidenced by her flinch. Before he could walk the words back, however, she smiled and his heart fisted as all the air squeezed out of his lungs. The lovely woman in front of him should always smile. The warmth of it lit her up with a radiance he’d never had the privilege of having bestowed upon him. His wolf came up on point, because even the subtle undertones of her scent changed, the faintest hint of pine beneath the cool mint.

Pine, like home.

Like… Ryan leashed his wolf’s visceral response and motioned to her food. “Would you like to take this conversation somewhere more private?” While he knew no one here could hear her as soft spoken as she was, she might be more comfortable away from prying eyes.

“Yes.” She graced him with perfect honesty. “I need an attorney. More…I need one I can trust. I want a divorce, but I have to know that you can handle Giles. He’s a dangerous guy, but you’re not looking at me like a concerned lawyer offering his services.”

He wasn’t? It took discipline to school his features. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like a man who likes what he sees.” A hint of spice deepened the air around her, arousal with a touch of excitement. She liked that he looked at her that way.

Good
. He wanted to know more about her. “I make no apologies for finding you attractive and enticing.”

Her smile wobbled. “You should. I’m not free and my—” She grimaced. “My husband is not a kind man. He wouldn’t take well to it.”

“I somehow doubt that man,” he refused to label him with any kind of ownership over her, “takes anything well.”

“No, he really doesn’t.” Her internal struggle played out in the depths of her toffee-colored eyes. “Look, I don’t know you. Yet, oddly, I’m inclined to trust you. My gut says you’re a good guy, but considering how fundamentally screwed up my gut can be, I’m not sure that’s enough.”

“Fair enough. Make me prove my trustworthiness.” He and his wolf relished the challenge. Whatever she needed him to do to prove, to chase, and to catch her? Yes, he would do it. The oddity of his thoughts niggled at his conscience. The woman wanted an escape hatch and he was considering how he could catch and keep her.

The undertones of pine struck him again, crystallizing in one pure moment.
Mate
. The desire for her tangled with an imperative he’d long since thought he was past. Was that the physiological response to the inexplicable lust she aroused in him? Or something deeper? A thought to be analyzed later, as taking care of her came before anything else.

Once he got her free and away from her husband, then they would have time to explore their connection further. His wolf didn’t care for the plan, but Ryan knew better than to follow the wolf’s more caveman tactics. Take her and her daughter and go. Yes, she would be absolutely safe. Taglioni didn’t have anything on Ryan, no way to hurt Ryan.

Not unless he decided to come after her on pack lands. Not an issue Toman will ever agree to.
One problem at a time.

“Making you prove your trustworthiness makes me sound like a bitch.”

All right, time to make one point abundantly clear to his lovely quarry. “No, it makes you sound like an intelligent woman unwilling to take a risk with her child. Do not ever call yourself a derogatory name again. I will not allow anyone to abuse you, Tiffany. Not even you.” The bastard who wore her ring would never touch her again. “In fact, let me prove you can trust me right now. Pick up your daughter and go to the Fillmore. I will reserve a suite for the two of you, and only the two of you. It will be under the name…” He glanced around the coffee shop. “Willow Arbor.”

Her lashes fluttered. “Arbor? That’s the best you can come up with for a pseudonym?”

It did lack something. “Fine, we’ll register you under Huston.” Yes, his name. His safe haven for her and his name would add an extra layer of protection. “You can have the night with your daughter to sleep peacefully without any fear. Tomorrow, we can make a plan.”