Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)

Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8) Page 4

“Have you been a bounty hunter long?”

She shook her head. “I cashiered at a department store before this.”

Hell, he hadn’t expected that. “Sold merchandise?” he asked in disbelief.

“No. Cashed employee payroll checks, took payments on layaways and credit cards, sold fishing and hunting licenses, and gift-wrapped merchandise at Christmastime until we hired a professional wrapper for the season.”

Wrapping up mobsters in Christmas ribbon and bows came to mind. Just what kind of training did she have? Trying to get his disbelief under control, Jake frowned, hoping that he wasn’t jumping to conclusions and that she had been a bounty hunter for a number of years and was well prepared to arrest the most dangerous criminals. Maybe even that she’d served as a cop. Something that would have made her seem better qualified and prepared.

“Exactly how long have you been a bounty hunter?” He kept his voice even, without a thread of emotion that might antagonize her. Or at least he tried to.

She raised her brows just a hint. “Since a few months ago.”

At that revelation, he couldn’t stifle a grunt of disbelief quickly enough and revealed his true feelings. The knowledge that she hadn’t been doing this long filled him with rife incredulity. The woman had to have a death wish.

“Do you know how to use a gun?” He managed to cut off the “at least” part of his statement before he spoke the words, although they had been on the tip of his tongue.

At that point, the tension fairly sparked between them. Alicia’s hackles raised as her whole body stiffened beside him, her gaze riveted to her teacup, her fingers tightening around it. Her family must have mentioned how dangerous and perilous her job could be and warned her not to take part in such foolhardiness. He couldn’t imagine a woman whose appearance and training seemed so at odds with the kind of job she was determined to do actually accomplishing it.

But then she visibly relaxed. Her whole demeanor became coolly detached, rather than reflecting her anger because he was prying into her business and questioning her ability to do her job. In that instant, he sensed a disconcerting vulnerability. With her jaw set and her eyes examining her teacup, she seemed determined to see this through.

He would bet the homestead that she was somehow being forced into this venture. And he intended to find out why and stop it before she got herself killed.

Jake Silver was the kind of dangerously exciting man Alicia had learned to avoid when she was growing up—and damn if she wasn’t drawn to him like a spike of winsome, colorful foxglove seeking shade. His masculine touch made her fantasize about all kinds of carnal pleasures.

She loved how he had spied her, become intrigued with her, and had ultimately come to her rescue, knowing if he hadn’t, she might have been forced to call the local police. Which she didn’t want to do. How would it look if she couldn’t face these guys on her own?

And she didn’t have a choice. It was her life or theirs. Simple as that.

But she didn’t need any man questioning her abilities with regards to bounty hunting. She’d been fingerprinted and had her background checked. She had never committed a felony—she was one of the good guys—and she’d completed her bail-fugitive-apprehension training, which was necessary to become a bounty hunter.

Working for a licensed bail agent, she’d arrested several fugitives in the past few months, although none that were Mob-related. But the others had only been practice before she went after the ones that really counted.

Trying not to sound waspish, she said, “Sure I know how to use a gun. My first…” Alicia paused. She had not intended to talk about that mistake.

The look on Jake’s face was one of rabid curiosity. She was about to tell a secret, and he was dying to know the truth. She sighed. She’d already let the proverbial cat partway out of the bag. “My first husband taught me how to shoot at a firing range. He was in the army—military police.”

“Ah.”

“I went hunting, too,” she said defensively, then was annoyed with herself for explaining her qualifications to him as if she owed that to him.

Jake’s frown didn’t fade. “What did you kill?”

She looked down at her hands, now strangling the linen napkin in her lap. “Nothing. Irvin was lousy at hunting. We never could find anything.”

“So Irvin was your first husband?”

“Um, no.” She hadn’t planned to let on that she’d had two, but mentioning that the first was… she sighed, first, indicated she’d had more than one, even though she’d meant to say ex-husband.

Jake raised his brows. She had not planned on telling him her whole blasted life story. “My second husband,” she said, in way too small a voice.

Jake’s lips curved up just a hint. “Is that all of them?”

She gave him an annoyed look. “Yes.”

“You can’t be all that old.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“And what happened to the husbands?”

“Both of them were big mistakes. The last one was out of my life three years ago—after a year of marriage.”

Jake sat back in his chair. “Sure there aren’t any more of them?”

This time she smiled. “No. I had an aunt who’d had eight of them, though.”

He whistled softly.

She chuckled. “Luckily, no children and only her death stopped her from having more husbands. I swear I’m not going down the same path as my aunt. I’ve strictly sworn off men. What about you? Been married before? Currently married or engaged? Your age?”

“Thirty. Never been married, engaged, or otherwise.”

“You’re kidding.” She hadn’t meant to sound so skeptical, but he seemed a trifle amused by her reaction.

“No.”

She wondered how that could be, as good looking as he was. But then the sinking realization he might be gay hit her, and she didn’t say anything more.

Jake finished his coffee, set his cup down, and pointedly said, “You’re wondering why I’m thirty and have never been married.”

Hating to be put on the spot, she waffled. “Not everyone marries as many times as I did before the age of twenty-three.” As soon as she said that, it sounded lame to her. He was thirty, not twenty-three.

“I like women, Alicia.” He gave her a pleasantly amused smile. “I’ve just never found the right one to convince me to settle down.”

Alicia’s grim expression softened. “I never found the right guy either, but that didn’t stop me from marrying two times. I’m cured of my impulsiveness now, though.”

That’s why, Jake thought ruefully, she had become a bounty hunter. Nothing impulsive about that. At least he managed to curb the urge to shake his head. He had imagined that she was a trained weapons expert, knowledgeable in the martial arts, maybe ex-military or an ex-cop. Not a former cashier in a department store.

Before he could ask her why she was a bounty hunter—figuring maybe for the excitement, for some sense of adventure, or because it paid better—she posed a question. “What were you doing at the art gallery?”

The notion she was in the business of asking questions and getting answers made him think she was like a police officer on a mission.

This got tricky, though. Only his pack members knew about his hobby of photographing flowers in the wild. Even if anyone thought it wasn’t a macho thing to do, no one let on. At least not to his face. As no-nonsense as she seemed, he imagined she’d think his hobby was foolish. And as much as he told himself that shouldn’t matter, he did care what she thought.

He shrugged.

She didn’t miss a beat. “You have paintings you’re leaving off, right? Nude women? Old girlfriends? New girlfriends?”

He laughed. The woman was precocious. “I’m afraid that if I told you, I’d ruin your image of me.”

“Ahhh,” she said, drawing out the word. “I see.”

“What do you see?”

“Landscapes, then.”

He smiled and shook his head, but he was still thinking of where he wanted to go next with Alicia. In an instant, she had changed his mood from annoyed at having to hang around town until the gallery opened and then spending a fortune on a meal to being possessively chivalrous and wanting to just spend some time in town enjoying the day with a woman like her.

“So where do we go from here?” he asked, curbing the urge to pull her from the booth and escort her to the nearest bed and breakfast. But only if they served breakfast in bed.

Chapter 3

As much as Jake knew he had to get back to Silver Town, he was beginning to think he didn’t need to return all that quickly. He was owed a vacation, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d taken one. Work and pleasure were all wrapped up in Silver Town and the pack. That’s all that had ever mattered.

But now she mattered. Alicia Greiston, bounty hunter and bundle of sensuous woman, who was bound to get herself into real trouble. But the way she “played” her role with him made him think she also was interested in furthering their relationship. He knew he should back off, knew that unless it would be a one-night stand with a human female, he shouldn’t be encouraging this. Yet he had no desire to stop what was taking place. And he didn’t believe a one-night stand would offer a fix for what he was feeling.

He could drop off the photographs and take in some sights with Alicia, if she could give up her surveillance for the time being and was interested in spending the day with him. Who knew what could happen with regard to the night?

She was about to say something when she glanced back at Mario as he walked past the table, not giving any indication he knew she existed. The other man remained seated, eating his breakfast.

As soon as Jake felt Alicia tense, as if she were a wolf ready to go after her quarry, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his body, even though he already had her blocked from leaving the booth.