The Werewolf Tycoon's Secret Baby(10)By: Saranna DeWylde
“When’s he coming to Aphelion?”
“As soon as I can convince his mother.”
“I’ll convince her.” Westwood lifted her chin.
“No, no.” He shook his head. “It has to be her choice.”
“I can make it her choice.”
“No. Not like that. She’s in Den Hollow, so she’s safer than she would be outside of our borders. I’ll bring her, but let me do it my own way.”
“Oh, Drew. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Come with me tomorrow. If she’ll allow it, you can cut his hair.” Two birds, one stone, Drew thought.
“Done.” She patted his cheek. “But are you sure you don’t want to use the spell as a bargaining tool? I’ll do it, but only if she—”
“No.” His wolf rose again in defense of her.
Westwood’s next pat on his cheek was a little harder—a warning. “Don’t flash your wolf eyes at me, young man. Or I’ll tie you outside tied to a tree like I did when you were little.”
“You’re a good boy to defend your mate. Just remember who you’re talking to.”
As if he could forget.
“By the way, Warner is back with the DeVaughn girl. He has her at the cabin on the north side of the property. Her bags were delivered this morning. If you could take them out to her?”
“Or you could…” He motioned with his hand as if he were casting a spell.
“I could. But then you wouldn’t be able to tell the DeVaughn Alpha when he calls that you’ve seen his daughter and she is whole and healthy. This bride stealing nonsense is so eighteen hundred.”
“Honestly, why would he call? We could lie. It’s not as if he can come and demand proof. He’s already chosen to side with Remus.”
“I believe he has other motivations. Now go on. I have things to do.” She peered down at his hands where he still held the box of cupcakes. “Are you forgetting something?”
“No, I didn’t forget. You didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
She held out her hand and he presented her the cupcakes.
“I love that little sugar fairy. She’s such a dear. I think she needs a mate, too. I’m going to find her one.”
“Do you really think meddling is the way to repay her kindness?”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Of course it is. Sometimes, for being a sly wolf, you’re awfully stupid.” She shook her head and shoved a cupcake in her mouth as she disappeared down the long hall.
Drew decided it was an amazing thing he had any self-confidence at all growing up with these sorts of influences.
“I heard that…” The witch’s voice echoed to him from seemingly out of nowhere.
“I know,” he answered and ducked, just as a he felt a swoosh of air against the back of his head. “I can’t go check on the heiress if you knock me out, witch.”
“Mrs. Westwood to you, boy,” the voice thundered.
“So when are you going to find a nice warlock to settle down with instead of meddling with other people?”
The whoosh didn’t miss this time.
Emmie dreamed of Andrew and their time in Santorini. Those memories were never far from her thoughts and, even as she splashed in those surreal waters and lounged in his strong arms, Emmie knew it was just the ether of what had once been. But it was better than the dream she had where she was running—always running. Pushing her body faster and harder than she ever thought she could, but the monsters always caught her.
Always tore her limb from limb. Devoured her. Only to somehow resurrect her and do it all over again.
Drew’s arms or the nameless, faceless teeth in the dark?
Emmie kissed him longer, reveled in the heat between them, memorized the way his body felt against hers and, while there was bliss, what she wanted to remember most was how safe she felt. Nothing bad could happen to her here.
Emmie hadn’t been touched by a man since Santorini, and she’d thought she was fine with that. She was okay with the fact that part of her life was on hold. Or she had been, until she saw Andrew again.
Andrew with the broad shoulders, the rippled muscles, and a cock that was a rocket straight to orgasm.
Now her body burned for him with a painful awareness.
If only she could go back to the warm sand, the tang of salt water, and those stolen moments where time belonged to them with no fear of tomorrow or the dark secrets of yesterday.
Reality intruded, jerking her to wakefulness. Except Andrew wasn’t only Andrew—he was the billionaire VP of a Fortune 500 company. He could have any woman he wanted. He could have anything he wanted. She had nothing to offer him but a sagging ass and betrayal.