Tempted (Two Marks 1)

Something I unfortunately knew all too well.

“Well, what I’ve dug up on her so far hasn’t put me at ease,” I admitted to Ben. “She’s been microchipping wolves across Wyoming, and at least two of the wolves she’s chipped have been killed. It could be a coincidence. Wolf biologists generally have the good of the wolf population at the heart of their studies, but you never know.”

“You think she’s tagging them, then going back and shooting them?” he asked.

I sighed, and was sure he could hear it through the phone. “If she’s a good enough shot to tranq the animals, she could just kill them with a rifle then and there. Why go to all the trouble? It makes no sense.”

“Well, get close to her. Maybe sit down to have a conversation, if you can do it without alerting her about our particular interest in her studies.”

That had been my thinking. “Yeah, that’s my plan. I’m watching her place now, looking for an opportunity.”

“Okay, report back after you’ve made contact,” Ben said.

“Will do. Have fun with your mate. What’s her name, by the way?”

“Shelby.” The word came out almost reverently. “She’s incredible. Yeah. We’re having fun. We probably won’t make it back for a couple weeks.”

“Landry has things under control,” I assured him before I disconnected. Landry was our alpha’s younger brother, and my scent-match. He was in charge while Gib was away.

Despite my assurances, I didn’t know what I was doing there. My job was head of IT for the distillery. I handled any computer related issues for the pack, as well. My research usually consisted of online stalking, and light hacking when necessary. In person confrontations or investigations weren’t my forte.

Was I just going to knock on Caitlyn’s door and demand she leave the wolves in West Springs alone? I sat behind a computer. I wasn’t an enforcer, like Ben. I hoped they didn’t expect me to intimidate this little slip of a scientist. To threaten her. I didn’t have it in me, even if she could be a problem. Although, if she had any involvement in killing wolves, then…

The front door of the small housing unit opened, and my gaze snapped to the slim figure coming out. I sighed in relief, because this made things easier. I recognized Caitlyn immediately. She tugged the lapels of her jean jacket closed against the evening chill—a cool night for this late in June—as she stepped outside.

I waited a few beats, then slid out of the truck and shut the door, following her at a distance. When she stepped inside the neighborhood microbrewery a half a block down, I adjusted my cowboy hat, waited for a car to pass, then crossed the street. I figured I could use a drink, anyway. As long as Caitlyn wasn’t meeting someone here, this might be the perfect opportunity to have that casual chat without getting her guard up. Learn her intentions for her research. Steer her far away from our wolves.

Send her somewhere other than Two Marks pack land.

The place was crowded, the twang of country music filled the air. I wasn’t the only one wearing a Stetson. Most men, and a few women, wore them. At least I fit in with my cowboy look. It took a few seconds of scanning to find her. Caitlyn sat at the bar, chatting with the bartender like she was a regular. I left one barstool between us when I sat down and caught the server’s eye. “What’s on tap?”

“I’ve got a lager, a pilsner, and a pale ale,” the tattooed young man said, sliding a cocktail napkin in front of me.

“I’ll take the lager.” I stole a glance at Caitlyn’s profile. In her photos, she looked cute. Friendly and approachable. But I saw now she wasn’t just cute—she was drop-dead gorgeous.

Holy shit.

Her long bronze hair was burnished with red and gold, and her skin was smooth and flawless. She was a lithe, slender thing, but that made her no less feminine. She was soft in all the right places.

But I wasn’t here to admire the human. I was here to handle her as Gib and Ben wanted.

I took a deep breath. Over the tang of spilled beer and greasy French fries, I caught her scent.

It taunted and tempted me, making me want to lean in from where I sat. To move closer and fill my nostrils with it. When the bartender slid the beer in front of me, I took a swallow, then set it back down so it wouldn’t interfere with my olfactory senses.

“Steak salad, please,” Caitlyn murmured to the bartender, pushing the one-page menu across the bar at him although she didn’t seem to have even looked at it.

“Is it good?” I asked. Not my best opening, but picking up women in bars wasn’t really my thing. Shifters didn’t need to have a strategy. With female shifters, it was easy. She wanted a fuck, and we gave it to her. It took the edge off of the full moon high. Nothing more. There was no attachment, no heart involvement, because we knew up front we weren’t mates. Sex was just that. Sex.