A Handful of Wolf Read online

  All the same, he kept his eyes on her. Moments later, she tugged her hands back, and with her brow furrowed, leaned forward and spoke sharply. Like all shifters, Sasha had exceptional hearing, but still could not hear her words. Next thing, she shoved her chair back, snatched up a tiny jeweled bag and strode toward the exit. He mentally applauded her and his wolf approved. He abandoned the beer and set off in pursuit. So did her date, getting to her before Sasha could push through the crowd.

  The guy caught her arm, and yanked her to a stop. Now that was unacceptable. Sasha didn’t even think about it. With his wolf snarling inside him, he lunged for the guy.

  Chapter 3

  “Megan.” Phillip closed his fingers around her arm, just enough to get her attention. “Don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.”

  It’d been going so well. Why did he have to spoil everything? And now, she stood in a crowded bar with people starting to gawp at them. Damn. “Phillip, please let go of my arm.” She could be polite. They were in public, after all.

  He smiled, but she saw a worried crease on his forehead. “I’m sorry. Come on, Megan,” he coaxed. “Let’s order dinner and we can—”

  Already regretting her hasty departure, she might have relented at that point. Before she could speak, or even think, a figure shot out from the bar area, grabbed Phillip’s hand and twisted it behind his back. He yelped in pain. Megan’s mouth dropped open.

  “She asked you to let go of her arm.” A deep and familiar—sexy—voice caressed her senses. She lifted her gaze to meet sapphire blue eyes so bright they seemed to glow in the dim light of the bar.

  For once, Megan was speechless. Phillip found his tongue quickly though. “Who the fuck are you?” He cast a furious glare at her. “Megan? Do you know him?” Cutie had him restrained, but not tight enough. Phillip did some fancy twisting move, freed his hand and then grabbed Cutie’s T-shirt, shoving him backward. There was an ungainly struggle, both men grappling, a punch thrown, a table knocked over, drinks splashing and glasses broken.

  Megan had seen enough.

  *

  Two men built like heavyweight wrestlers barged in front of Sasha just as he was about to walk away. One of them grabbed him by the wrists and forced him to walk backward, his wolf howling in fury at each step. The girl meanwhile, shook her head as though disappointed, and turned on her heel. No! Her swaying ass taunted him as she marched out of the restaurant. He tried to make a bid for freedom, but the guy was clamped on as tight as a pair of manacles.

  “Pack it in, bro.” His captor glared at him. “We’re taking both of you into the office to calm down.”

  What? She was leaving. Without him. He gazed, helpless. Great move, Sash, impress her with a fist fight. He wanted the floor to open in front of him. The only consolation was seeing the other guy similarly restrained, and with a busted lip where Sasha had landed a blow. He’d been holding back, for Chrissakes, keeping a tight leash on his wolf instead of pounding the guy into the floor.

  Sasha had to suffer the humiliation of handing over most of his week’s wages to pay for the damages, as well as shake hands politely with the fuckwit who had been pawing the girl. Megan, he’d called her. A good Welsh name, even if she sounded pure Kiwi.

  Sasha’s wolf snarled and clawed at him, but he managed something resembling a smile and an apology. A simple misunderstanding. The smile was easier to stomach than the prospect of an assault charge and Sasha shuddered at the thought. Jake would quite simply kill him. Thinking about Jake reminded him of the meeting and he dragged out his phone to check the time. Holy shit. He was over an hour late and had two, no three voicemails from his Pack Alpha.

  Sasha made his way to a quiet space outside and listened to the messages.

  The first was fine. “Sash, if you’re going to be late, be sure to text Connor to let him know.”

  The second was sharper. “Sash, I'm hoping you are already there and you pick this up after the meet.”

  The third, ten minutes ago, was furious. “Where the fuck are you? Ring me now or I swear I’m taking a chunk of your pelt for a fireside rug.”

  *

  Even though it was a warm evening, Megan trembled as though she was frozen and she ran her hands up and down her arms to try and warm herself. Bloody Phillip. And what the hell had Cutie been doing there? It was kind of sweet that he’d leaped to her defense, but she really didn’t need it. Faced with the prospect of going straight home to the dual inquisition from her parents, along with the distinct possibility of one or both brothers, she shuddered. She’d save that joy for later. Living at home definitely had its limitations. Alex and Hugh both thrived, but she needed to move out, sooner rather than later.

  She sucked in a harsh breath through her nose and ran a shaking hand over her hair. Damn. She needed to calm down. She never let guys get to her, not since Ryan had screwed her over so efficiently. Megan dabbed at her eyes, being careful not to smudge her makeup. Ryan had pursued her for an entire term at college, chased her down until she finally relented and slept with him. Gave him her virginity in the back of his dad’s car. It was only after he dumped her the next day she realized he’d fucked her for a bet. He’d been competing with his friends to see how many girls he could nail in one term. She was more discerning now.

  Glancing left and right she weighed up the options. Foxglove was a cool bar to hang out in. She’d get a drink and text a couple of friends, see if anyone was free tonight. Lou was usually keen to go out, or Nessa. With a plan in mind, she headed up the waterfront.

  *

  Sasha braced himself for the explosion he knew was coming. Jake was going to be beyond angry. As he prepared to make the call, his phone buzzed with a new message: Jake requests FaceTime. Nu-huh. He declined and dialed Jake’s number instead.

  “What’s going on, Sash?”

  “I’m nearly there, Cuz, just got delayed.” He hastened his footsteps. “Can you ask them to hang on? Got to go, I’ll update you later.” He terminated the call and switched off the phone. With luck, Jake would pacify the Kiwi wolves, he'd make the meeting and recover from tonight's monster fuck-up.

  He’d only gone a short distance when he scented her again. Megan. His wolf pricked up his ears and scratched at him. She was close and Sasha hesitated. If he delayed any further he’d only be compounding the level of trouble he’d be in. Fuck it. Two minutes wouldn’t hurt. Just to check she was okay.

  He found her standing just inside the doorway to a sprawling trendy bar, with her back leaning against the doorframe, head bent and the evening sun casting fiery sparks through her hair. She spoke brightly into her phone, one finger absently playing with the hem of her shiny top while she chattered. The fabric draped softly over her gorgeous curves and Sasha couldn’t drag his eyes away. Leggy blondes were overrated. He now had a passion for curvy brunettes, and this one in particular.

  She giggled. “Sure, see you in an hour,” and then finished the call and lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her eyebrows shot up into her forehead. “You again? Are you stalking me or something?”

  His mouth could have been filled with sand, it felt so dry. “I, uh, no.” Her lips twitched as though she was trying not to smile, and he scrambled for something intelligent to say. “I saw you here. I, uh, wanted to apologize for, uh, you know.”

  “For wrecking my dinner date?”

  There was another flicker of a smile, quickly squashed, but his wolf liked it. Was she just teasing him?

  “Yeah.” He dug up a suitably contrite expression and moved a step closer. “I thought he was harassing you.”

  “He was, but not how you mean.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Do you want to make it up to me?”

  “Does it involve punching your date some more? I don’t want to get locked up.”

  “Sadly, no.” She smiled properly now and it stole his breath. White teeth gleamed and her nose wrinkled briefly. “You can pay for dinner.”

  There had to be a catch. Or maybe not. He grinned, hi
s best panty-dropping smile. “It would be my pleasure. Where can I take you?”

  Her eyebrows quirked. “I didn’t say I’d go with you, just that you’d pay for my dinner.”

  “I did.” He loved that she was sparring with him and took another step closer. “But since I haven’t eaten yet, and you haven’t eaten yet…see a pattern here?” He stood close enough to touch her, but kept his hands relaxed at his sides. “We could go together, and you can tell me where you learned that brutal move at lunchtime.”

  The smile broke into a laugh and he grinned back, fighting with himself to keep his hands away from her. He could practically taste her lips and the longing to touch her made his palms itch. His wolf was in ecstasy at her obvious delight.

  “Brothers. I have two older brothers who made sure that nobody would try to take advantage of me, you know, with random kissing. That kind of thing.”

  “They taught you well. But,” he cocked his head to one side. “It didn’t work.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He dipped his head toward her and couldn’t miss the hitch in her breath. “I’d risk doing it again.”

  *

  Megan couldn’t help herself. She knew she was staring at Cutie, but he didn’t seem to mind. She licked suddenly dry lips and tried to focus. Without the protective hard hat, he had thick, silky dark hair that stuck up at odd angles, as though he’d been running his hands through it. What had he been talking about? His head dropped, close enough to lean in for a kiss and she felt a hot breath across her cheek. If he tried to kiss her now, she’d let him. Hell, she’d hang on to him and kiss him back. He smelled of outdoors, a fresh masculine fragrance that made her think of pine forests and running water. With his leather jacket and faded T-shirt, scruffy seamed jeans and—deep breath—stubbled jaw, he was light years away from Phillip. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

  “So,” he murmured. “Dinner?” That accent. Megan was a sucker for a lilting, seductive voice, and Cutie’s took some beating. Sensible-Megan battled with Impulsive-Megan.

  “I don’t know your name.” She smiled, to soften the rushed words. “I’m Megan.”

  He took a deep breath through his nose, almost as though he inhaled her. “Sasha Llewellyn.”

  She swallowed. “Sasha doesn’t sound very Welsh.” The distance between them had reduced even further. If she leaned forward just a fraction…

  “My grandmother is Russian.”

  “Mine is Welsh.” It came out as a squeak. He lifted one arm and lazily rested his hand on the wall behind her head. Even though she wore heels, he was still taller and she tilted her head to meet his gaze. In that moment, he looked like a hungry predator that had sighted its prey and her heart flipped. Oh my. Was she really going to have dinner with him? Phillip was a field mouse in comparison to this man. There was something she had to remember and she racked her brains for a long breath. Oh yes. “My friends are meeting me. We’ll have to be quick.”

  Amusement flashed across his face, and his dimple twinkled at her. “Are we still talking about dinner?”

  He was too tempting and it was a long time since she’d dated anyone fun. “Dinner. Yes.” Get a grip, Megan. “We’re clubbing afterward. You can join us if you like.”

  “I’d like.”

  I’d like to kiss you. The thought danced in front of her and she struggled for composure, fisting her hands to prevent her slipping them around his neck. A hint of a threaded string necklace peeked out of his T-shirt and she concentrated on that instead. “Your necklace is cool. Do you have a pendant on it?”

  “Yeah.” He slipped his fingers down his neckline and tugged out the twisted threads. A sliver of sparkly black stone hung in the middle. “It’s hematite crystal. My sister gave it to me.” He paused, and his eyes opened wide, a frown appearing on his tanned forehead. “Shit.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m late. I have to be somewhere.”

  Chapter 4

  “I have to, uh…” meet some wolves? Talk with a bunch of shifters? “Meet some business associates.” It sounded lame, even to Sasha. His gut tightened at the disappointment he saw in her eyes. Come on, Sash. Think. Otherwise she’ll be hightailing it out of here. “Come with me.” Her eyes widened and she eased back, creating a space between them. “No, really. I just need to say hello, and sort out another time to meet them, and then, yeah.” He unleashed the full force of his most charming smile. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

  “Business associates?” Her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way. “What kind of business?”

  Pack business. He tried to think of an acceptable alternative. “My cousin makes furniture. He, um, wants to sell it here.”

  “Oh.” Her brown eyes peered at him as though she tried to read his thoughts, and then she shrugged. “Okay. And besides, I work in marketing. I might be able to help you.” Did she believe him? It seemed too easy. “Lou and Nessa are meeting me back here in an hour.”

  Okay. He might be able to wing this. He held out one hand and waggled his fingers. “You coming?” Her palm felt cool and smooth, and very comfortable in his grasp. Little tingles ran up his arm and he stared at her for a second. It’s like she was a magnet and he was made of metal. He had to touch her. His wolf, previously pacing up and down, settled at the contact. Weird.

  The meet was only a short walk away, a quiet, but slightly seedy bar compared to the glossy places on the waterfront. He felt Megan’s hesitation when they set foot inside. “I promise, we’ll only stay a few minutes.” His keen nose identified the shifters immediately. Four enormous men huddled round a small table, several empty glasses and bottles already on the surface. With their coffee colored skin and thick black hair, they looked like native Maori, but Sasha knew they were wolves. They also knew immediately that Megan was human.

  Four sets of brilliant blue eyes glared at her and Sasha sighed inwardly. Not the best start. He stuck out his free hand. “I’m Sasha Llewellyn, and this is Megan.” Silence. The largest of the four glanced at Sasha’s outstretched hand and sniffed.

  “We know who you are. Jake asked me to give you five minutes, but if you’re the best your pack has to offer, I’m not impressed.”

  He could feel Megan about to join the conversation, such as it was, and he quickly jumped in before she could speak. “I got delayed on the way here, I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He could imagine Jake’s fury if he didn’t appease them, and skipping out was not looking a viable option. “Let me get some drinks and then we can talk.”

  Silence. Sasha scanned the table top and noted the brand of local beer. “Black ales all round?” Grudging nods. He smiled and tried to look confident. Shee-it. This was heading toward clusterfuck proportions. Squeezing Megan’s fingers he nodded toward the bar, but she ignored him and slipped her hand free. Leaning forward over the table, cleavage on show, she beamed at the only wolf that had spoken so far.

  “Kia Ora. I’m the reason Sasha is late, I’m so sorry. My ex-boyfriend was being a giant pain in the ass, and tried to pick a fight. There’s no way Sasha could get here any earlier. He was a complete gentleman.” To Sasha’s bemusement, she flashed him a shy smile. “I insisted on coming with him. I didn’t want to be on my own in case he came back. My ex.” Whaaat? He felt as though he’d stepped into a parallel universe, especially when the largest of the wolves stood up and clasped Megan’s hand.

  “Just tell us his name, sweet thing, and we’ll make sure he never bothers you again.” Her tinkling laugh wrapped around him and within seconds, she was sitting at the table shaking hands with each of the wolves. Sasha tried to keep up with their names. Connor. Red. Jonty. Bray.

  Megan touched his arm. “I’d love a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, please.” He did a double take. The wolves all smiled at her, their beasts relaxed and comfortable, and his own animal calmed. She was nothing short of a fucking miracle worker.

  *

  Megan had been to enough meet ‘n’ greet sessions with her parents to know how to make
small talk. Hell, she could elevate it to an art form if she put her mind to it and charming these four hulking guys was easy. She had them eating out of her hand within minutes. By the time a wary looking Sasha returned with a tray of drinks, she was swapping holiday stories about a failed camping trip. One of the guys, Jonty or Bray—she wasn’t sure which—patted her arm. Sasha made a weird noise and glared at Jonty-Bray, who promptly removed his hand. Silence fell around the table, apart from the noisy bangs as Sasha thumped the beer bottles down.

  He’d sounded like a dog and Megan giggled, and turned to face him. “Did you just growl?”

  A hint of color sparked in his cheeks and he looked away. “Clearing my throat.” He took a long draught of beer and faced Connor, the leader of the group. “I promised to take Megan to dinner. Do you mind if we meet up again another night?”

  Something felt off to Megan. Sure, plenty of business transactions were conducted in bars and other casual places, but this one buzzed with an undertone she couldn’t translate. She sipped her wine and smiled politely at Connor, then dug in her tiny bag to find her phone. “Excuse me, I just need to reply to a text.” Supposedly engrossed, she waited for the conversation to start.

  Sasha muttered about the beer being good. Connor grunted agreement. She tapped out a quick message to Nessa and Lou, warning them she was running late, but still the men stayed quiet. They weren’t there to talk about furniture sales. Either it was something illegal, in which case she’d make an excuse and leave them to it, or something mildly embarrassing or uncomfortable. She slipped the phone back into her bag. “Just going to the bathroom.” She knew Sasha watched as she strolled toward the toilets. Not paying much attention to her whereabouts, it was still a shock when she bumped into a scary looking mountain of a man lurking near the end of the bar. She was used to tattoos, but this guy’s looked threatening somehow. She nodded an apology and sidestepped him.