Dreaming of the Wolf

Chapter 2

Jake tilted his head toward the table where the two men now ate their breakfast in silence, indicating that he knew the woman sitting beside him had been watching them with more than casual interest. He wanted to know just what was going on with the lady. Especially since he’d had to rescue her once already. And he suspected she might need his services again if she continued what she was doing.

He didn’t expect her to tell him anything, since he suspected she was working undercover. But he was beginning to have his doubts about that because he was fairly sure she would have a partner. And the notion that her mother had Mob connections still lingered in his thoughts.

She shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Her eyes and lips hinted at a half smile that sparkled with feistiness.

“Try me.”

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

His mouth dropped open before he could hide his surprise better.

Her smile broadened. “Told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

She took a sip of tea from a dainty teacup covered in tiny pink roses, and the way her lips touched the rim made him wish she was touching her mouth against his with the same pressure and with parted lips, drinking him in.

His eyes strayed to the slight bulge under her jacket where he assumed her gun was. “Bounty hunter.” He sounded a little incredulous.

Here he’d thought she was an undercover cop and most likely better trained for the job. The thought crossed his mind that the waitress was mistaken or had lied about this woman’s mother dating someone in the Mob. If the waitress’s explanation held any truth, he wondered if the woman and her mother were involved with a rival family.

But a bounty hunter?

She’d get herself killed. He didn’t like the scenario in the least.

“Don’t tell me you’re after one of those men.”

“The one on the right. Mario Constantino.”

“A h. And you’re going to walk up to him, serve a warrant, and arrest him.” His gaze shifted from the well-

dressed thug to the delicate woman sitting beside him, her heady feminine fragrance—a mixture of woman and the hint of an exotic floral bouquet—stirring his interest.

But she wasn’t any competition for the bastard sitting at the table.

“Not yet. If he doesn’t show up for his court date by tomorrow morning, I’ll serve his warrant and re-arrest him. But there’s another one. Danny Massaro. He works for this guy. Danny is supposed to appear at court in Denver today, but according to my informant, he’s meeting with Mario sometime soon in Breckenridge—and he’s already missed his court appearance. Danny’s not the man dining with Mario this morning, though. I want Danny, too. And I will get them. Both.”

Jake released an exasperated sigh. He imagined that issuing a warrant for one of them would be more than reckless. But trying to arrest the two of them?

“You’re kidding, right?” She might be armed, but she was no match for a bunch of guys with Italian names who had Mafia connections.

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me. Want another cup of coffee?”

“How did you know I was drinking coffee?” He waved to the waitress for a fresh cup.

“I saw you sitting in that booth over there, watching me, before you looked to see what the men who I’d been observing were doing. Until you saw the big ape who was trying to force me to go outside with him.” She paused for a heartbeat, judging Jake’s response.

His lips parted for a fraction of a second. He was damned surprised. He’d thought she hadn’t known he’d existed until he’d come to her aid.

She raised her brows just a hair, undoubtedly amused to see his reaction. She was good at this surreptitious stuff. Really good, he had to admit.

“But even before that, I observed you at the art gallery across the street, looking vexed because it was closed. I would guess you were on a schedule—self-imposed—and didn’t like the proverbial wrench in your plans. You were trying to figure out what to do with your spare time until the gallery opened, saw the restaurant, and came in here.”

“Saw you and came in here,” he corrected.

If she was so observant, and he suspected from her analysis of the situation that she was—which reminded him of a wolf—he wondered why she’d left out the most important part. And he wondered why she’d taken such a keen interest in him. Maybe for the same reason he was intrigued by her. Or she might have thought he was trouble like these guys were and had just been keeping an eye on him.

“You were taking a picture of the Mercedes’s license plate in a covert way. And that made me curious,” he said.

She smiled, and this time it was a beautiful, heartwarming smile—her expression all-knowing—like she’d had him pegged from the beginning and wasn’t clueless enough to believe his interest had everything to do with her taking a picture of a license plate instead of having more to do with the picture-taker herself. She might not be a wolf, but she sure seemed perceptive.

She lifted her cup of tea again. “This isn’t the kind of place you usually frequent, I imagine.”

He raised his brows, surprised again that she seemed so astute. He couldn’t help but admire that quality in her —particularly when she could read him so well and was even interested in doing so.

“You’re too…” she said, her gaze sweeping over him in an intimate way, and then she trailed her fingertips down his leather vest—and his body reacted, tightening with raw need. Her gaze slid lower to his stonewashed jeans, and then she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, “…rugged, in a casual, cool sort of way.” She brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek, tickling the short hairs of the couple of days’ beard growth, her eyes considering his face. “Yep, too rugged for the likes of this place.”

When she dropped her hand from his face, he asked, “So you knew I’d come in here looking for you?” His voice was a whole lot huskier than he’d intended. He wondered if after he’d kissed her and pretended a deeper friendship, she had played the role for Mario, the criminal she had under surveillance. In any event, Jake was game to deepen the role.

“Sure. That’s why when you first came in, you couldn’t find me. I ducked inside and found a spot to observe you, while looking for where Constantino had perched, and then when I thought you looked fairly harmless…”

He couldn’t believe it. She’d ditched him when she entered the restaurant so she could observe him, and he hadn’t even been privy to the fact? The woman was a marvel. And definitely a wolf at heart.

But then her comment sank in. “I looked fairly harmless?”

“Oh, all right—handsomely, devilishly dangerous but more in an innocuous way. More of a lady-killer type, if anything.”

“Innocuous?” He chuckled at that. He could be quite dangerous, and it didn’t take much of a push to shove him in that direction. But the other part? “Lady-killer?” He really didn’t see himself that way.

“The way the hostess and then the waitress were sizing you up…” She let the thought trail off and shrugged.

He wondered about the waitress. If she knew this woman so well, how well did his bounty hunter know her? He was more amused than anything, though, by her response that he was a lady-killer. He couldn’t believe that, as close as she’d come to real trouble, she could switch gears like this so completely. Nothing about her was timorous, and he liked that about her—to an extent.

He still thought she should be a lot less confrontational with the bad guys.

“Do you know the waitress? She seemed to know you,” he asked, hoping to get to the heart of the matter.

The woman gave a little laugh, but her response was slightly bitter in tone. “Oh, yeah, we go way back. Tami Lawson and I went to school together. I’m sure she had only good things to say about me.” With a refilled cup of tea, she said, “I’m Alicia Greiston, by the way. I’d offer my hand, but I’m afraid that would look kind of strange since we’re supposed to know each other already. Rather intimately, even.”

“I’d go for another kiss.” He was only half-joking.

Except this time, he wanted to kiss those cinnamon-and-

sugar-sweetened lips of hers.

She chuckled. “Yeah, like I said, a real lady-killer.”

Not in the least bit reluctant to feed into her fantasies of the kind of man he was, he reached over, took her hand, and brushed his lips against the back with a soft caress.

He swore she melted a little on the seat next to him.

“Jake Silver, completely at your disposal.”

She raised her brows, her lips still imparting a small smile, and gently pulled her hand free of his. “Have a gun?”

“Nope.” A t least not on him.

She took a deep breath that seemed exaggerated and said, “That means I’ll have to protect us both now.”

Not in this lifetime. Although this matter wasn’t any of his concern, he was ready to make it so, if that kept her from getting herself killed. He couldn’t help that her being a bounty hunter troubled him.

“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.”

A t 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.

A t 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.”

“A h.”

“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. A t 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. A t 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.