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  Rock realized he had started walking across the meadow toward the six cottages he had dreamed about turning into a lodge for werewolves. Hanson struggled to keep the pace, his limp looking more like a staggered trot. Rock stopped and looked down at his ranch manager.

  “What did you want?”

  “Now don’t you take that tone with me.” Hanson puffed out his five-gallon barrel chest, and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t care if you are eight feet tall, Toubec. You ain’t nothing but a pup, and I’ll take you down a notch or two if I have to.”

  If there was one thing Rock had pounded into his head since he was a pup, it was to respect his elders. He turned and continued walking, at a much slower pace so his ranch manager could keep up.

  “That little bitch has your cock wrapped around your neck,” Hanson muttered.

  Rock stopped again, amazed how the old wolf could read his mind.

  “I don’t know who killed those females. But if they did it out of personal hatred toward me, Simone isn’t safe.” He wanted her here on the ranch, so he could protect her, and fuck her until she couldn’t remember any other werewolf she had ever been with.

  His ranch manager stared at him a moment, and this time, he began the walk across the meadow, not commenting.

  Rock leaped after him, falling into stride next to the old man. “If there is something you aren’t telling me…”

  The old wolf’s expression turned hard, and he focused ahead looking toward the cottages, and not at Rock.

  “You’re a good werewolf, Toubec. But I worry they are going to try to take you down.”

  “Don’t worry about the pack, Hanson.” Rock couldn’t think of a single werewolf in town who wouldn’t kiss his ass if he demanded it.

  “And now you are sniffing around that little bitch…”

  “Yeah. And?”

  “And she isn’t known for her solid character.” Hanson didn’t look at him, but entered the grove of pine trees.

  “Her past is no longer an issue.” Rock cut through the air with his hand, mentally slicing the past away.

  “Maybe not for you. But what if she can’t change the way you want her to?”

  Rock didn’t like where this conversation was headed. He wouldn’t think about Simone lusting after some other wolf. The thought made his blood boil. She was on the wild side, but he could tame her. No other werewolf would touch her and live through it.

  “She doesn’t like the way people talk about her.” And he knew she wasn’t encouraging the talk. Ever since he’d met her, he knew she wasn’t dating around, or sleeping around. She was always at home. “If she ran in the meadow with a few wolves when she was younger, that’s fine. She isn’t doing it now.”

  “Now you know I’ve been in this area for a long time. This is my pack, and I know these werewolves.”

  They entered the clearing and Rock stared at the row of cottages, desperately in need of repair. He thought about bringing Simone out here, showing her around the place. He could see her sexy walk in front of him, her adorable ass swaying from side to side while she checked out each cabin. She would love it out here. The privacy. The quiet.

  “Make your point, Hanson.” He was about ready to tell his ranch manager to get back to work and leave him be.

  “I remember her running with the other wolves and bitches her age. I used to get out more than I do now, you know. And I tell you this, Toubec. Your biggest worry is right under that roof where she is staying.”

  Rock focused on his mental image of Simone, those wonderful large breasts. God, he wanted to tease and torture those nipples until she screamed in ecstasy. He wanted her naked, and on her knees before him, sucking on his cock, while she watched him with her sultry baby blue eyes.

  But his image slowly faded as Hanson’s words hit him. He turned and stared at his ranch manager, meeting the man’s hard gaze.

  “Are you suggesting she isn’t safe where she is staying?”

  “Depends on what you call safe.” Hanson slapped his pockets, as if searching for something.

  Rock realized the man was hesitating, searching for how to say something, or not wanting to say it at all.

  “You’re damned determined to tell me something.” Grouchiness suddenly surged through him. There was work to be done, damnit. “You didn’t follow me out here because you have nothing to do.”

  Hanson looked offended, and turned to leave, but then turned right back around again, and pointed a finger at him.

  “Simone De Beaux got her reputation as a slut because she was always fucking that new pack leader. And she wasn’t his bitch. He wanted that little Rousseau bitch. And that little bitch of yours had her own three mates assigned to her. But they wouldn’t touch her because she was Johann’s slut. Mighty convenient for him to be housed up with his mate, and still have Simone under his roof as well.”

  Fire burned through Rock faster than he could control it. Blind rage consumed him, and he barely noticed the old wolf stumble backwards. He heard his shirt rip, while bones popped and contorted. His spine lengthened, pulling muscles inside him, stretching and altering their shape.

  Ripples of fury over the blasphemous statement of his own hired help burned through his soul. Simone was not Johann’s slut. How dare the old wolf imply such a thing! He would kill Johann, kill the old wolf, kill anyone who dared to hazard slander against his bitch.

  Rock stumbled backward, his legs no longer shaped to hold him upright. He wanted to swipe the air with his long claws, shred anything he could make contact with. Tear and destroy until his temper bayed.

  His mouth lengthened, and teeth grew, pressing against his gums, forcing their way out until they resembled lethal weapons. Raw power of the beast who was part of him, pumped through his blood, speeding up his heartbeat, primal instinct consuming all rational thought.

  He leaned his head back and howled, screamed in outrage, letting his anger consume him, take over as the beast within him had. Simone wanted him. He knew that she did. Hadn’t she masturbated for him over the phone just the other night? Her cry was for him. She came and fucked herself for him.

  He wouldn’t accept the fact that she would howl for another wolf. He had seen her need in her eyes. She wanted him, damnit, not the fucking pack leader.

  Rational thought seeped through him like molasses. Torturously slow, and fighting an uphill battle as carnal rage ripped through him.

  The urge to fall to all fours and tear across his land, not stopping until he had that little bitch in tow, and then bringing her home with him, about killed his ability to think straight. But what would that accomplish? Taking her by force appealed to him rather nicely, but behavior like that would only bring him trouble.

  Rock forced his breathing to slow, fought to ease the pace of the blood that surged through him, and straightened while bones popped back into their human form.

  “This is how the pack thinks.” He heard Hanson’s words, and turned to see the old wolf holding his hand over his heart.

  Rock reached up and ripped a small branch from one of the trees, and hurled it across the open area in front of them. There was no satisfaction in the act. He watched the branch fly through the air, and then slide along the ground toward the end of the row of cottages.

  “Pack leader or not, if Johann Rousseau lays one paw on her, I will kill him.” Rock turned and headed back toward the house, not bothering to slow his pace so the ranch manager could keep up, and no longer in the mood to dream about his werewolf retreat.

  Chapter Twelve

  Simone hurried into her bedroom and searched through the boxes on the floor, looking for Jere’s jacket.

  “Hurry up. This outing is going to turn into a day’s event.” Johann’s grouchiness over taking them shopping didn’t sway her mood in the least.

  “No one is forcing you to go with us.” She entered the living room with her daughter’s jacket in hand, and reached for Jere.

  Johann held their daughter in his arms and took the
jacket, instead of handing the cub to her.

  “Let’s go.”

  Simone smiled at her daughter, who looked as excited as she was to get out of the house, even if they had to endure the sour attitude of Johann for the day. She hadn’t left the house all week, other than to drive with Johann and Samantha every morning to take Jere to preschool and then to pick her up. The thought of actually getting out and doing something thrilled her enough to overcome Johann’s grouchiness.

  Although she doubted Rock would go to a clothing store, she couldn’t give up hope that she might possibly see him while out today. He hadn’t called since the other night, and she hadn’t found a moment to herself in order to call him.

  “I want to get a new doll, Mommy.” Jere sat in the back seat next to Simone, with the seat belt strapped around her. “Will you make Daddy buy a doll for me?”

  Samantha turned around, grinning at Jere. “If you’re very good while we’re out, maybe we will let you pick out a doll.”

  “What you really need are school clothes.” Simone tapped her daughter’s nose.

  “I want both, Mommy.”

  Johann drove them into town, all of them chatting easily, keeping the topic light. Simone couldn’t keep her thoughts off Rock though. It would be so wonderful to see him, even if she could just get an eyeful of that sexy body she’d been dreaming about the past few nights.

  By the time they reached the shopping area, her nerves were in a frenzy. Her heart pounded when she got out of the car, unable to stop herself from glancing around for Rock’s truck.

  Jere undid her own seatbelt, and crawled across the seat to get out next to Simone. She held her daughter’s hand, following Samantha and Johann into the store, but continued to search the area for any sign of that overgrown werewolf who continued to haunt her dreams.

  “You look tired.” Simone noticed Samantha had lost her enthusiasm a couple hours later. “Johann, we need to find a place to sit and rest a while.”

  Johann turned and eyed his mate. “How about we go have some lunch?”

  “Are you in the mood for a cheeseburger?” Simone had her answer when Samantha’s expression lit up.

  “Yes. With all the fixings.” She rubbed her hands together.

  “Let’s take her to Howley’s.” Simone wondered if by chance Rock knew of the excellent food served there. “She hasn’t had a chance to try their food yet.”

  Thirty minutes later, Simone carried Jere to a booth inside her old hangout. The lunch crowd had assembled, and she wasn’t surprised to see a fair amount of the pack still frequented the place over the noon hour.

  “So, you have finally come back to your pack.” A man’s voice startled her, and Simone looked up from helping Jere take her new doll out of the packaging.

  “Well hello, Armand.” She smiled up at the stocky werewolf, and then returned her attention to undoing the wires that fastened the doll to her plastic encasing.

  Armand Gaston slipped into the booth opposite her, and she chanced a glance toward the bar, where Johann and Samantha were surrounded by several werewolves and engrossed in conversation.

  “Still under Rousseau’s protection?” Armand followed her gaze toward Johann.

  “He is pack leader, Armand. That is the only protection he is offering.”

  “Well, that is good news. I take it that means you are no longer sniffing after the wolf? He seems to have a nice bitch for a mate.”

  “Samantha is wonderful.” She had no desire to discuss her sexual life with this wolf, and wished like hell that Johann and Samantha would join them over here. “The two of them make a wonderful couple.”

  “Good. Very good.” Armand leaned back and tapped his stubby fingers on the table. “I thought it best to let you know beforehand. But I will make a formal appointment with Johann in order to secure you as a mate.”

  “What?” Simone gasped, almost dropping Jere’s doll.

  Her daughter struggled to help her mother get the final wires off the doll’s wrist, and Simone let her take over the project.

  “I have no intention of being your mate,” she added, recovering somewhat from the audacity of his statement.

  “My dear bitch. You already are my mate.” Armand Gaston crossed his arms over his chest, looking very pleased with himself. “But I am looking forward to making it official.”

  She almost cringed when his gaze dropped to her breasts, and she swore he appeared to be drooling.

  “What are you talking about?” But then it hit her.

  Several stapled pieces of paper. And so many years ago she had almost forgotten the list. Grandmother Rousseau’s treacherous list. She remembered the foggy morning when she had sat, recovering from a hangover, and read over the list stating the werewolves who would be mated with the bitches. Armand Gaston was one of her three mates.

  Her tongue suddenly felt like sandpaper. Armand reached across the table and put his sweaty, thick hand over her clasped hands. The urge to bolt raced through her like a volt of electricity. It took more power than she thought she had to sit there and appear unnerved by his words.

  “You’re being ridiculous.” She fought the pounding of her heart, and hoped she sounded in control. If this man’s brassy claim upset Jere, she would bitch-slap him right here in the bar. “Grandmother is dead, and that law was preposterous anyway.”

  “But, my dear, it’s still a law, and on the books. I have a right to you.”

  Simone jumped up from the booth, fury and panic swarming through her. The air around her seemed too thin suddenly, and she worked several slow, calming breaths doing her best to maintain control in front of her daughter. This werewolf had more nerve than should be allowed for such a stocky runt. She wanted to pound some sense into his dense head.

  Jere grabbed her doll and slid across the booth toward her. “Where are we going, Mommy?”

  She noticed her daughter’s worried expression, and realized Jere detected her outrage in the air. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” She lifted her into her arms, nuzzling her hair.

  “Let me hold her.” Armand stood as well, a stupid smile plastered on his face that she would have loved to slap right off of him. “She needs to get used to me.”

  Simone turned, putting distance between the werewolf and her daughter.

  “No. She does not,” she hissed. “There is not going to be any mating.”

  The best thing to do would be to join Samantha and Johann before she lost her cool right here in the middle of Howley’s with her daughter in her arms. What a way to make sure everyone knew she was back in town! She glared at the pompous werewolf and headed across the bar.

  “We are already mated, bitch. All that is left is the good part.” He slapped her ass before she could get away.

  Simone screeched. Jere yelped, wrapping her small arms tightly around Simone’s neck. Several people in the bar turned. Pack members smiled, not thinking twice of someone harassing her. Simone wanted to scream at the whole lot of them that she deserved some respect.

  And what for? Haven’t you earned the reputation that you have? Respect is earned too.

  Well she would earn this fucking pack’s respect if it killed them, she decided. She held her head high, refusing to look at anyone in the bar, and carried her daughter with what she hoped was a small amount of dignity, across the large poolroom to where Johann and Samantha stood.

  “Someone giving you trouble?” Johann glanced over her shoulder, but only seemed mildly concerned.

  It was best to make light of it, she decided. The only way she could make these people see that she had no intention of fucking every werewolf in the pack, was to not remind them of her past any more than necessary.

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She smiled, handing Jere over to Johann. Her daughter held her new doll in front of her face, half hiding, half showing off her new possession to the few werewolves surrounding them.

  Samantha seemed the only one not impressed with her forced cheeriness. “Is everything okay?”
she whispered.

  Simone nodded, this not being the place to confide her predicament. Although it wasn’t a problem. She would see to it that it wasn’t a problem. If only Rock were here. But if he were, he would make his presence known. The wolf dominated wherever he went.

  And since when did you want a werewolf dominating your life?

  The night he tied her wrists in the back of his truck, making her his captive while he enjoyed her body, was proof of how aggressive and dominating Rock could be. His punishment for her walking away from him still preoccupied her thoughts. He wouldn’t take bullshit from anyone.

  She followed everyone to a large table, where several other pack members joined them for lunch. There were two other werewolves out there who, by pack law, were her mates. The thought of any of the three of them causing her further trouble made it hard to eat. What would Rock do when he learned she was supposed to be mated to three other werewolves? The possibilities made her sick to her stomach.

  The worst part about it, she would realize later that night, while she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, was that she couldn’t remember the names of the other two mates assigned to her. She needed to know who they were, and then find out if they were in town too. Hopefully they had left the pack, so they could take mates elsewhere.

  *

  Jere grew restless an hour later, discussion around the table continuing about pack issues.

  “I need to get her out of here.” Simone leaned into Samantha to whisper, her friend nodding agreement, while Jere tried to crawl under the table.

  Samantha whispered to Johann, while Simone scooped her daughter off the floor. The two of them excused themselves, then followed the excited cub outside.

  “Why did you look so upset earlier?” The two of them strolled downtown, glancing in shop windows, while Jere skipped happily in front of them.

  “Johann needs to get rid of that law that bound females to three mates.” She needed to talk to him about that soon, too.

  “One of your three mates confronted you?”

  Simone nodded. “He claims I’m his mate, and he plans to try to get it enforced.”