Big Bad Beast
Page 4
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Eggie would make sure of it.
CHAPTER 1
Twenty-five years later ...
Ulrich Van Holtz turned over and snuggled closer to the denim-clad thigh resting by his head.
Then he remembered that hed gone to bed alone last night.
Forcing one eye open, he gazed at the face grinning down at him.
Mornin, supermodel.
He hated when she called him that. The dismissive tone of it grated on his nerves. Especially his sensitive morning nerves. She might as well say, Mornin, you who serve no purpose.
Dee-Ann. He glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on. What time is it?
Dawn-ish.
Dawn- ish?
Not quite dawn, no longer night.
And is there a reason youre in my bed at dawn-ish . . . fully clothed? Because Im pretty sure youd be much more comfortable naked.
Her lips curved slightly. Look at you, Van Holtz. Trying to sweet talk me.
If itll get you naked . . .
Youre my boss.
Im your supervisor.
If you can fire me, youre my boss. Didnt they teach you that in your fancy college?
My fancy college was a culinary school and I spent most of my classes trying to understand my French instructors. So if they mentioned that boss-supervisor distinction, I probably missed it.
Youre still holding my thigh, boss.
Youre still in my bed. And youre still not naked.
Me naked is like me dressed. Still covered in scars and willing to kill.
Now youre just trying to turn me on. Ric yawned, reluctantly unwrapping his arms from Dees scrumptious thigh and using the move to get a good look at her.
Shed let her dark brown hair grow out a bit in recent months so that the heavy, wavy strands rested below her ears, framing a square jaw that sported a five-inch scar from her military days and a more recent bruise he was guessing had happened last night. She had a typical Smith nosea bit long and rather wide at the tipand the proud, high forehead. But it was those eyes that disturbed most of the populace because they were the one part of her that never shifted. They stayed the same color and shape no matter what form she was in. Many people called the color dog yellow, but Ric thought of it as a canine gold. And Ric didnt find those eyes off-putting. No, he found them entrancing. Just like the woman.
Ric had only known the She-wolf about seven months, but since the first time hed laid eyes on her, hed been madly, deeply in lust. Then, over time, hed gotten to know her, and hed come to fall madly, deeply in love. Therewas just one problem with their becoming mates and living happily ever afterand that problems name was Dee-Ann Smith.
So is there a reason youre here, in my bed, not naked, around dawn- ish that doesnt involve us forgetting the idiotic limits of business protocol so that you can ravish my more-than-willing body?
Yep.
When she said nothing else, Ric sat up and offered, Let me guess. The tellin will be easier if its around some waffles and bacon.
Those words are true, but faking that accent aint endearing you to my Confederate heart.
I bet adding blueberries to those waffles will.
Canned or fresh?
Mouth open, Ric glared at her over his shoulder.
Its a fair question.
Out. He pointed at his bedroom door. If youre going to question whether Id use canned anything in my food while sitting on my bed not naked, then you can just get the hell out of my bedroom
. . . and sit in my kitchen, quietly, until I arrive.
Will you be in a better mood?
Will you be naked?
Like a wolf with a bone, she muttered, and then told him, Not likely.
Then I guess you have your answer.
Oh, come on. Can I at least sit here and watch you strut into the bathroom bare-ass naked?
No, you may not. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. However, you may look over your shoulder longingly while I, in a very manly way, walk purposely into the bathroom bare-ass naked.
Because Im not here for your entertainment, Ms. Smith.
Its Miss. Nice Southern girls use Miss.
Then I guess that still makes you a Ms.
Dee-Ann Smith sat at Van Holtzs kitchen table, her fingers tracing the lines in the marble. His kitchen table was real marble, too, the legs made of the finest wood. Not like her parents Formica table that still had the crack in it from when Rory Reeds big head drunkenly slammed into it after theyd had too many beers the night of their junior-year homecoming game.
Then again, everything about Van Holtzs apartment spoke of money and the finest of everything. Yet his place somehow managed to be comfortable, not like some spots in this city where everything was so fancy Dee didnt know whod want to visit or sit on a damn thing. Of course, Van Holtz didnt come off like some spoiled rich kid that shed want to slap around when he got mouthy. Shed thought hed be that way, but since meeting him a few months back, hed proven that he wasnt like that at all.
CHAPTER 1
Twenty-five years later ...
Ulrich Van Holtz turned over and snuggled closer to the denim-clad thigh resting by his head.
Then he remembered that hed gone to bed alone last night.
Forcing one eye open, he gazed at the face grinning down at him.
Mornin, supermodel.
He hated when she called him that. The dismissive tone of it grated on his nerves. Especially his sensitive morning nerves. She might as well say, Mornin, you who serve no purpose.
Dee-Ann. He glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on. What time is it?
Dawn-ish.
Dawn- ish?
Not quite dawn, no longer night.
And is there a reason youre in my bed at dawn-ish . . . fully clothed? Because Im pretty sure youd be much more comfortable naked.
Her lips curved slightly. Look at you, Van Holtz. Trying to sweet talk me.
If itll get you naked . . .
Youre my boss.
Im your supervisor.
If you can fire me, youre my boss. Didnt they teach you that in your fancy college?
My fancy college was a culinary school and I spent most of my classes trying to understand my French instructors. So if they mentioned that boss-supervisor distinction, I probably missed it.
Youre still holding my thigh, boss.
Youre still in my bed. And youre still not naked.
Me naked is like me dressed. Still covered in scars and willing to kill.
Now youre just trying to turn me on. Ric yawned, reluctantly unwrapping his arms from Dees scrumptious thigh and using the move to get a good look at her.
Shed let her dark brown hair grow out a bit in recent months so that the heavy, wavy strands rested below her ears, framing a square jaw that sported a five-inch scar from her military days and a more recent bruise he was guessing had happened last night. She had a typical Smith nosea bit long and rather wide at the tipand the proud, high forehead. But it was those eyes that disturbed most of the populace because they were the one part of her that never shifted. They stayed the same color and shape no matter what form she was in. Many people called the color dog yellow, but Ric thought of it as a canine gold. And Ric didnt find those eyes off-putting. No, he found them entrancing. Just like the woman.
Ric had only known the She-wolf about seven months, but since the first time hed laid eyes on her, hed been madly, deeply in lust. Then, over time, hed gotten to know her, and hed come to fall madly, deeply in love. Therewas just one problem with their becoming mates and living happily ever afterand that problems name was Dee-Ann Smith.
So is there a reason youre here, in my bed, not naked, around dawn- ish that doesnt involve us forgetting the idiotic limits of business protocol so that you can ravish my more-than-willing body?
Yep.
When she said nothing else, Ric sat up and offered, Let me guess. The tellin will be easier if its around some waffles and bacon.
Those words are true, but faking that accent aint endearing you to my Confederate heart.
I bet adding blueberries to those waffles will.
Canned or fresh?
Mouth open, Ric glared at her over his shoulder.
Its a fair question.
Out. He pointed at his bedroom door. If youre going to question whether Id use canned anything in my food while sitting on my bed not naked, then you can just get the hell out of my bedroom
. . . and sit in my kitchen, quietly, until I arrive.
Will you be in a better mood?
Will you be naked?
Like a wolf with a bone, she muttered, and then told him, Not likely.
Then I guess you have your answer.
Oh, come on. Can I at least sit here and watch you strut into the bathroom bare-ass naked?
No, you may not. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. However, you may look over your shoulder longingly while I, in a very manly way, walk purposely into the bathroom bare-ass naked.
Because Im not here for your entertainment, Ms. Smith.
Its Miss. Nice Southern girls use Miss.
Then I guess that still makes you a Ms.
Dee-Ann Smith sat at Van Holtzs kitchen table, her fingers tracing the lines in the marble. His kitchen table was real marble, too, the legs made of the finest wood. Not like her parents Formica table that still had the crack in it from when Rory Reeds big head drunkenly slammed into it after theyd had too many beers the night of their junior-year homecoming game.
Then again, everything about Van Holtzs apartment spoke of money and the finest of everything. Yet his place somehow managed to be comfortable, not like some spots in this city where everything was so fancy Dee didnt know whod want to visit or sit on a damn thing. Of course, Van Holtz didnt come off like some spoiled rich kid that shed want to slap around when he got mouthy. Shed thought hed be that way, but since meeting him a few months back, hed proven that he wasnt like that at all.
