Beauty Dates the Beast(6)

“There’s really nothing else to tell.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Nobody’s life is that dull. I get the impression that you’ve got something to hide, Miss Bathsheba.”

Why, yes, Beau. When I was nineteen, my younger sister started dating a werewolf. He bit her and turned her, and I had to drop out of college to take care of her as she adjusted to growing fur and a tail. And since the werewolf pack wants her back, we keep a low profile in case we have to leave town again. Oh, and I like frat boy comedy movies. You?

I finished chewing my fry, pretending to think it over. I needed something bland and nondescript, to angle the conversation back toward safer ground. Aha! “I like bookkeeping.”

It was the one phrase guaranteed to scare a man off. Most women would say that they liked to date, or dance, or curl up at home with a movie. I liked general ledgers and balancing someone’s books.

He did a catlike tilt of his head that was a bit unnerving, reminding me that he was slightly more than human, for all his sexiness. “Bookkeeping? Like accounting?”

I waited for his eyes to glaze over with disinterest. “I find it enjoyable.”

He reached for another cheese fry. “Do you like math, then? The challenge of it?”

That wasn’t the bored look I was used to—or worse, the derisive sneer. It startled me, and I gave him a genuine smile. “I like the control aspect, being the one in charge. At first I hated it, but then it became like a puzzle to me, to figure out how to balance the books and find the right numbers that make everything click.” I enjoyed managing Giselle’s office. It made me think I could own my own business someday, so I considered it good practice.

“You ever think about starting your own business?”

“Maybe someday,” I said, uncomfortable again. I didn’t want to talk about my personal hopes and dreams with him.

“You could start up your own accounting business. I’d hire you to do my company’s books.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

He grinned back at me and my heart flipflopped. “The offer stands. You’re welcome to get your hands on my books anytime.”

It was amazing that he could make something as benign as accounting sound like a turn-on. I turned to my drink—a fresh mojito—and took a gulp, feeling a sudden need for liquid courage.

He smiled and leaned back, studying me like he might a delicious roast that he was about to devour. But then the smile faded and his shoulders formed a tense line.

Someone slid into the booth next to me. “Well, hello,” said a man in a low, growling voice.

I looked over in surprise, scooting farther back reflexively. Beau’s jaw had clenched into a hard line.

“What do we have here?” The man gave me a roguish grin, displaying big, crooked teeth. He had wild, thick hair that stuck up in tufts from his head, and a wrinkled polo shirt hung from his enormous frame. There was something wild about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I recognized the way his nostrils flared, sniffing the air to catch my scent.

Shifter.

My pulse pounded in my ears and I stiffened, thinking of Sara. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This man could be a wolf, and therefore dangerous.

The man tilted his head, the crazy grin never leaving his face, his eyes on Beau. “Who’s your friend? She from out of town?”

I waited, afraid to breathe, for him to pick up Sara’s scent on me. To expose my secret.

Beau’s eyes narrowed into a distinctly unfriendly look, though the pleasant smile remained on his face. “Go away, Tony. This is my personal business, not the pack’s.”

Tony leaned even closer toward me. I shoved him away, not caring in the slightest that it was rude. “Get away from me.”

Undeterred, Tony grabbed my hand. He sniffed me and his eyes widened. He looked back to Beau with a knowing grin. “She’s not a were at all, is she?”

I took another gulp of my mojito, relief warring with anxiety. Sara was safe … but now I had a whole new set of problems.

Beau was supposed to have been dating a supe through the agency, but I was a normal. This was sure to get back to my boss. Shit.

As I drank, Tony reached out to touch my ear. I jerked hard, spilling my drink all over the table.

Beau reached over and plucked Tony’s hand off me. “If you touch her again, I’ll break your fingers,” he said in a bored voice, but his eyes were flinty with dislike. “Understand?”

“Tsk tsk,” said Tony in a mock-playful voice. “It’s silly to get upset over human trash, Beauregard.”

Beau’s eyes narrowed into slits and I could feel the rage radiating off of him.

One wrong move and these two would fight. Beau looked ready to destroy the man, and Tony didn’t seem to have a lick of sense in his body. He just continued grinning and looking at me, his gaze flicking over my neck and pulled-up hair as if he wanted to touch me. “She’s cute for a normal, Beau. Not what I’d call your type, though.” He looked me up and down once more, his eyes a little too interested, then turned to Beau. “So where’s Arabella?”

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. Oh, God. Was Beau involved with someone? Or even married?

“I don’t know,” Beau said, his words a careless drawl. “I’m not her keeper.”

I checked his finger—no sign of a ring-sized tan line. Good. Not that I cared, of course.

“I can see I’m not wanted here,” Tony stood and grinned. “You know you’re not supposed to date humans. I believe that rule was set down by your very own little Alliance. Funny how you’re the one to break the rules.”

Beau looked right at me and answered Tony, “It’s none of your business who I date. When I need permission from someone, I’ll ask.”

“Suit yourself.” The shifter smirked in my direction. “The others are going to find this really interesting, though.” Tony winked at me. “Later, chicken.”

Silence fell as he turned and left. Beau clenched his hands, glaring at Tony as if he’d like to jump up and rip the man’s throat out. The other man didn’t look back, as he took his sweet time circling back to the far side of the restaurant and disappearing from sight. The waiter stopped by to mop the table and left me a new drink. Beau said nothing.

I was the first to break the silence. There were a hundred things I wanted to ask about. “Chicken?”

Beau’s response was grudging. “Chicken is Tony’s term for non-supes. He likes to say that they taste like chicken.”

“That’s fairly disturbing.”

“He’s trying to be tough. His pack is full of *s who like to push around as many people as they can. They refuse to join the Alliance.”

Well, that explained why they’d been going at it like cats and dogs. It also made me want to throw up. To think that he’d sat next to me … tried to touch me … to think that he could have smelled Sara if I hadn’t been careful. I took a hasty sip of my mojito, my hands shaking. And then I choked, my throat too tight to swallow properly.

“You all right?” Beau said, the growl receding from his voice. “I’m sorry if he scared you.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. My drink just went down the wrong way. So who’s Arabella?”

He sighed. “My ex,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Word must travel slow.”

“Yeah. We don’t talk to the wolf pack much.” He didn’t seem to want to expand on the subject.

Thank God for that. “What kind of supe is Arabella? Were-skunk?” I asked, my tone sweet.

His lips twitched with mirth. “No, just a were-cougar that hung around far too long. Haven’t you ever dated someone like that?”

I gave him a look. “I can’t say that my little black book is full of were-cougars.”

He laughed. “Then I am delighted to be your first.”

My entire body tensed. But that was silly. Beau couldn’t possibly know that I was a virgin.

“Before I forget,” Beau said, pulling out his wallet. He flipped through it, then handed me a small salmon-colored card. “Sign this.”

I took it from him and turned it over, reading. Lots of very small print crept across it on both sides. “What is it?”

“Your visa.” At my startled look, he flashed a grin. “It says you are legally approved to date in the Paranormal Alliance.”

From what I’d heard, this sort of permission took forever. “So why did you let Tony think that I don’t have one?”

He picked up his drink. “Maybe I want you all to myself.”





Chapter Two





Several drinks and a delicious, normal meal later, we wandered out of the restaurant, smiling. He had my hand clasped in the crook of his elbow, and I had enough drinks in me—and good conversation—to let him.