Romancing the Alpha Page 8

  “You bitch!” the young man spat, clutching his cheek. “I’m gonna have you fired! Don’t you know who I am? Where’s your manager?”

  “I am the manager and the owner, you asshole!” she screamed at him.

  The man tried to grab her arm again, but Grant was too fast. He was right beside him, and his large hand wrapped around the man’s forearm, pulling it back so far the young man shouted in pain.

  “I wouldn’t do that, son,” he growled. The man’s companions, two burly, football-player types, stood up, ready to defend their friend. A voice inside him growled something, and it sounded like kill, kill.

  “You’re gonna pay for that, you asshole, and your stupid townie bitch too!” The young man nodded his head at his goons.

  By this time, Enzo and Rafe were already standing behind Frankie, their arms crossed over their chests. Dante and Matt, meanwhile, were making their way towards them, still in their kitchen attire. Nonna Gianna followed, a big kitchen knife in her hand.

  Grant felt another presence behind him, and he knew it was Alex, ready to defend his Alpha.

  “Are you sure about that?” Grant said smugly. The two burly men looked at each other and Grant could smell the hesitation and fear coming from the group. “Apologize to her,” he said, twisting the man’s arm further.

  “Oww…owww! Ok! Jesus!” He looked at Frankie. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ok?” Grant let go and the man slunk down to his chair, rubbing his arm.

  “Apology NOT accepted!” She turned to her brothers. “Take this piece of garbage out and ban him and his friends from ever coming back!” With that, she left the dining room, storming back to her office.

  ***

  Frankie walked confidently out of the dining room, but her hands began to shake as soon as she was out of sight. Townie bitch. The words rang in her ears over and over again.

  She got to her office and slammed the door behind her. Walking over to her desk, she placed her hands on the well-worn top, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself.

  After all these years…

  She thought she was over it. Over him. Well, what he did to her, anyway.

  Jacob James Caldwell. She hadn’t even said the name out loud in years.

  Jacob James Caldwell was a typical rich college kid who coasted by on his family’s money and good looks. He strolled into Muccino’s one night and 18-year-old Frankie caught his eye. He and his friends were seated in her section, and he flirted relentlessly with her. Young, pretty, and innocent, Frankie was flattered by the attention. After all, she had grown up sheltered by her family, and she always thought she wasn’t as beautiful or popular as some of the girls in her high school, with her awkward mismatched eyes, wiry curly hair, and features that were still growing in, thanks to puberty. After she graduated though, it was like her body had finally caught up. Her slight frame grew lush curves, her facial features softened, and soon men of all ages were paying attention to her. And Jacob was the most handsome, charming, and richest of them all.

  He ate at the restaurant every weekend, bribing the hostess to make sure she seated him in Frankie’s section. He asked her out a couple of times. She turned him down of course, especially since her mother and grandmother watched her like a hawk. Finally, one night, after she finished her dinner shift, he was waiting for her outside the restaurant, leaning against the side of his sports car with a dozen roses in his hands. She went out with him right then and there, and he took her to an all-night diner where they talked until Frankie’s phone started ringing and her mother screamed from the speakers, demanding she come home.

  During the next few weeks, she spent all her free time with Jacob. She even went to frat parties with him, and all his friends treated her nicely, much to her surprise. It was only much later she realized they were just being nice to her because of Jacob, and they not only gossiped about her when she wasn’t around, but quickly turned on her when things went sour with Jacob.

  Townie bitch. The words didn’t make her cry or angry anymore, but there was still a dull ache somewhere deep inside her, a part she thought she had buried long ago.

  Tears sprang in her eyes. Men always leave, her mother’s voice echoed in her head. Her father left them when he couldn’t take being trapped in their one-horse town. Her stepfather divorced her mother shortly after Rafe was born, when he couldn’t accept her mother for who she was.

  A knock interrupted her thoughts.

  “Go away!” she said, wiping the tears before they fell. Thank god for waterproof mascara.

  “Frankie, can I come in?”

  Urgggghhhh! Grant Anderson. Another rich, handsome man wanting to bully his way into her life. Oh yes, she knew his type. He would drop her like a hot potato once when he got what he wanted.

  “No!” she said defiantly. The door opened anyway and Grant strode in. “What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand?” She stood in front of him defiantly, planting her feet firmly on the ground.

  “I wanted to see if you were ok.” There was concern in his voice.

  “As you can see, I’m fine,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “What the hell did you think you were doing anyway?”

  Grant’s scent filled her nose, mixed in with…anger and jealousy? She shook her head. No, she was imagining things.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders gently. “I couldn’t just sit there while he pawed at you. Touched you like he owned you.” A deep, rumbling sound came from his chest.

  She let out a sardonic laugh. “I can protect myself! You think he’s the first man to pull that shit on me? I’ve been dealing with assholes like him for years. I can assure you I can handle myself and he won’t be the last man I’ll have to put in his place.”

  “I won’t stand for it,” he growled.

  “Well I’ve got news for you, Mr. Smug New York Alpha! You don’t get a say in it! Or my life!” She struggled to get away from him, but he backed into her until her ass hit the edge of her desk. “What are you—mmmphh!”

  She saw Grant’s eyes go wild before he grabbed the sides of her face and slanted his lips over hers. Frankie struggled - weakly - before leaning up into him. The hard planes of his body felt amazing against her own soft curves and they fitted together so perfectly. His hands slid down to her ass, grabbing the generous globes of flesh and pulled her against him. She gasped into his mouth when she felt his erection pressing against her stomach through his pants. He quickly delved his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. Ocean spray scent and sugary sweetness filed her senses, the roar of waves ringing in her ear.

  Hmmm yes…smells so good…

  She growled into his mouth, nipping softly at his lips. Effortlessly, Grant lifted her up and placed her on the table. He dragged his lips down to her jaw, trailing a line down her neck, behind her ear. She eagerly exposed her neck and his teeth grazed the soft skin there, making her whimper.

  A hand crept up her thigh, pushing her dress higher and spreading her legs wider. His fingers brushed over the silky fabric of her panties, which had already grown damp from desire. A low rumbling came from his chest, and her heart slammed into her sternum when his fingers pulled her panties aside, baring her pussy to his touch. A thumb found her hardened clit, circling it and teasing it until she was mewling and panting.

  Her hands slid down to his waist, her palm pressing down on his hard cock through his pants. Shaking fingers unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, then she shoved a hand into his tight briefs. God, he was like silken steel, his cock so wide her fingers barely circled around his shaft. He groaned when she pulled his underwear down and began to stroke him. Her softly callused hand gripped his shaft, moving up and down in a slow, tortuous dance.

  “Frankie,” he whispered into her ear. “Come for me.”

  “Grant,” she said, his name a prayer on her lips. “I can’t…”

  His thumb pressed harder, circling faster on her clit. “Yes, you can.” He slid two fingers into her, her wetness coating his digits
.

  Frankie let go of his cock and then gripped his shoulders, clinging on to him. “I…I…” She buried her face in his shoulder, muffling her cry as her orgasm hit her hard. Her arms wound around his neck, her body lifting up as waves of pleasure washed over her. He was relentless, pushing his fingers into her, thumb playing with her clit as her body shook. She collapsed against him, and he held her close, burying his nose in her hair.

  “Frankie,” he murmured. “So sweet…so beautiful…”

  She let out a breath, her head spinning as her body wound down. God, had she really let him do that? His naked, hard cock pressed against her stomach insistently. “Grant, I want—”

  “Primul,” came a voice from the other side of the door.

  “Yes?” They both answered, pulling away from their embrace.

  The thick haze of passion dissipated, and Frankie’s head suddenly cleared. Grant stepped away from her, zipping up his pants and fixing his belt. She slid from the table, smoothing her dress down over her knees. She sighed as she saw her reflection on the mirror behind the door. Her was hair mussed, lipstick gone, her dress wrinkled. She didn’t bother to fix herself up anymore, since she knew whichever of the Lycans was out there (Dante, Alex, or possibly Alynna), would smell the sex reeking from her office anyway. She yanked the door open.

  “Grant,” Alex stood on the other side of the door. He nodded to Frankie, his face not betraying his thoughts, but the slight flare in his nostrils indicated he knew what he had interrupted. “Er, sorry, Lupa,” he said apologetically to Frankie. Then he turned to Grant. “Alynna isn’t feeling well. She needs to go back to Medical now. Do you want the car to come back for you…later?”

  Grant hesitated for a moment, his face conflicted. “I should go and make sure she’s ok.” It sounded like a question to Frankie and he looked at her meaningfully.

  “Yes, you should,” she said quietly, opening the door wider so he could pass.

  “Let’s go,” he said to Alex. He gave one last look at Frankie.

  “Your sister needs you, go make sure she’s ok.” she urged. “And tell her I’m thinking of her and I’ll give her a call.”

  “Of course,” he nodded, and then left her office.

  Frankie let out a long breath. Madre de dio, what the hell was she thinking?

  Chapter Ten

  It turned out Alynna was having some premature contractions, which, according to Dr. Faulkner were normal in this late stage of pregnancy. Still, it was a good thing they came back to The Enclave, and Dr. Faulkner had prescribed bed rest until the baby was born.

  Grant wanted to go back to Muccino’s again, but he could feel how hesitant and skittish Frankie had been when he left. It had been a week since that night and it took all his willpower not to go back. He didn’t mean for it to go that far, but jealousy and anger had gotten the best of him. Seeing that asshole touch Frankie…something snapped inside of him. He wanted to see him suffer, wanted to make her forget, and cover her with his scent until she could only smell and taste of him. Frankly, it wasn’t just the New Jersey Alpha who was on the edge over what happened in her office. He had never lost control like that, and if Alex hadn’t interrupted them, he would have taken her right then and there, consequences be damned. He had to stay away, at least give them both time to breathe. But finally, he decided that they both had enough space and he began to put a plan into action to get her alone.

  “Alpha? Grant, did you hear what I said?”

  “Hmmm?” Grant’s head snapped back to the man sitting across from him. Rodrigo Baeles, one of the members of the Lycan High Council, gave him a strange look. He glanced at his watch.

  At the very last moment, the High Council requested a meeting with him this week and this was the only slot in his schedule available. Grant didn’t really want to have this meeting, not when everything was set up to go perfectly tonight, but he had no choice. When the Lycan High Council “requested” something, one didn’t say no.

  “Sorry, go ahead Rodrigo,” Grant said.

  The older Lycan nodded. “Right, so you’re sure it was the mages that kidnapped you?” Rodrigo had flown into town as soon as the High Council was informed of Grant’s kidnapping.

  “Pretty sure,” Grant confirmed. “I was hit with a blue potion before I lost consciousness. Then I shifted, escaped my captors and found myself in the New Jersey Alpha’s territory.”

  “Good thing you weren’t too far off,” the Lycan next to Rodrigo said. Grayson Charles, the Connecticut Alpha was also invited to the meeting. He was Grant’s closest neighbor and leader of one of the bigger clans on the East Coast. “What did they want?”

  “Who knows?” Grant said. “But they must be getting bolder.” He turned to Rodrigo. “The High Council needs to do something. We must move forward on the talks with the Witch Assembly and begin to work together. If we put our knowledge and resources together, we can defeat the mages.”

  The council member’s nostrils flared. “If only it were that easy. The witches are being stubborn.”

  “That’s what they’re saying about us too,” Grant retorted. “Look, I know the two councils need to sort these things out, but if you would let me and Vivianne Chatraine attend the meetings, then maybe we can come to some understanding.”

  “Grant, we’ve told you many times,” Rodrigo began. “Let us handle this. This is what the Lycan High Council is for. We can’t just let an Alpha join in such delicate negotiations like this. We would be accused of favoritism by other clans.”

  He sighed in frustration. “Then let them join too, and let everyone know about the threat of the mages.” Grant felt like a broken record. He kept bringing up the same argument with the Council, and their answer was the same each time. Let them handle it.

  “Grant,” Grayson Charles began. “I know you’re frustrated and so am I. Might I suggest, that we - the clans, I mean - we should do what we can amongst ourselves. Tighten our borders and most important, secure our own alliances.”

  “Do we really need to do that?” Grant asked. “I mean, as neighbors, you and I have always had good relations.”

  “Of course, but you know, we can always use stronger bonds, so our people will feel more united and strong,” Grayson continued.

  Grant wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. It was like talking to a brick wall. “If you’re not going to do anything more to proceed with talks with the witches, then I’m not quite sure these meetings are productive,” he said to Rodrigo.

  “Look, Grant,” the older Lycan put his hands on the desk. “I sense your frustration. I know it. But it’s not just us. Their side is not giving us an inch either. But,” he looked Grant straight in the eyes. “With news of your kidnapping, then perhaps I can get the council to take action.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Grant said. “Just let me know what I can do.”

  “Of course.” Rodrigo looked at his watch. “Well, gentlemen, it’s nearly five o’clock. Shall we talk more over dinner?”

  “I’m up for it,” Grayson nodded.

  Grant shook his head. “Apologies gentlemen, I already made plans,” he said. “If you’d like recommendations or want to make reservations, stop by my admin’s desk. He can probably get you a table at any restaurant in New York, even last minute.”

  “Are you sure, you can’t join us, Grant?” Grayson sounded disappointed. “I dropped Vanessa Bennet off at Saks before I came here,” he said, referring to his vivacious Lycan cousin. “She’ll be disappointed you won’t be able to join us.”

  Grant groaned inwardly, but kept a straight face. Vivian had been doggedly pursuing him for months. “Do give my apologies to Ms. Bennet. Maybe next time.” He stood up, hinting that they should leave. “I do have to make one more stop and then head out to dinner, so I should get going.”

  The two men shook hands with Grant, and he led them out of his office. As he passed by Jared’s desk, he gave his admin instructions to assist the two Lycans secure a dinner reservation for
the evening. After bidding them goodbye, he headed to the set of private elevators, away from the main room. The doors opened and he stepped in. Pressing his palm to the security sensor under the buttons, he touched the button for the 33rd floor.

  ***

  The 33rd floor of Fenrir Corp’s headquarters was accessible only via the private elevator and the special security protocols only allowed certain people in. When the elevator car reached its destination, the doors opened, revealing a small room with another set of secured doors. Grant peered into the retina scanner by the door. After the scanner verified his identity, the doors opened automatically, letting him in.

  The main laboratory took about half the floor. It was sleek, modern, and outfitted with the most modern pieces of science tech available (and not yet available). Holographic panels were located on different corners of the room. Two people in lab coats - one Lycan, one human - sat in opposite corners, typing away on their computers. In the middle was a raised platform with a set of stairs leading up to the inner lab and office of Dr. Jade Cross.

  Dr. Cross was a Lycan scientist Grant had hired to study magic. Born in New York, Jade moved to England when her American father and British mother divorced. Jade was a gifted scientist, graduating from Cambridge at eighteen years of age with a degree in Physics and Biology. She then finished her Ph.D. in Biochemistry and Bioengineering two years later at Oxford. It was actually Cady who brought her to Grant’s attention and when he realized the talent she had, offered her a position as their chief magical expert right after she finished her studies. He offered her a generous salary, but she seemed more interested in the idea of running her own research lab and studying magic than the money. Dr. Cross was brilliant, if somewhat flighty and a little naive when it came to human interaction. But, she was one of the best in her field (and a Lycan to boot), and Grant was lucky to have her.

  As he made his way up to the platform, he could hear the speakers blasting loudly through the doors. Dr. Cross had an eclectic taste in music. Sometimes when he came to visit, opera would be blaring through the speakers, and other times it would be classic rock, African drums, or the blues. Today, it was Bruno Mars’ latest upbeat hit.