~ NEW ~ SALE ~ EXCERPT BELOW ~
Alpha werewolf, Grayson Beckett thinks money can buy anything—including a wife. But finding a mate proves harder than he thought. Dating agency coach, Jamie Osborne, reluctantly agrees to go on the date. Sparks fly when Grayson turns out to be a doting dad with a tragic past but can the alpha win her trust and melt her heart?
Check prices before you buy.
Jamie checked her watch. She was late.
The single lane twisted through a wooded area for a mile or so. Potholes at every turn slowed her journey more, and her car’s suspension system took quite a battering. Poor Gloria did not sound pleased.
At last, the lane opened into a gravelled courtyard. Nestled amongst mature oaks and elms sat an impressive country mansion. Turn of the century, by the looks of the architecture.
She pulled up to the side of the building, grabbed her laptop case and handbag and leapt out of her car. Her dog woke and poked his head out of her handbag.
With her stilettos kicking up the gravel, she headed for the stone steps that led to a wide, seven feet high front door. It opened before she got there.
Jamie’s steps faltered.
A giant of a guy with long, shaggy hair the colour of ebony faced her, his massive frame making mincemeat of the doorway.
Holy crap! Jason Momoa eat your heart out.
He wore a faded black T-shirt that showed off biceps the size of melons and a chest built like a wall. Khaki combat trousers and walking boots completed his look, along with leather plaited bracelets and a silver ring depicting a skull.
Aren’t werewolves supposed to be allergic to silver?
Never mind. What was wrong with her? No man, werewolf or otherwise, had made her belly tingle for a long time—not that she was interested. Men were off the menu, and she was here on business. “Hello, I’m Jamie Osborne from Love Bites dating agency. I believe Mr Beckett is expecting me?”
“I am. You’re late,” came his rude reply, his deep voice gravelly and sexy, and… Stop it, Jamie.
Squaring her shoulders, she climbed the stone steps to his level. Although thankful she’d gone for the high heels, it didn’t help with the height difference. The guy towered above her like one of the age-old trees that surrounded his mansion.
His nostrils twitched as he sniffed the air. “You’re human?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
She offered her hand. “Yes, I am. And you’re a werewolf. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, it’s not a problem.” His tone suggested the opposite.
“Sorry I’m late, Mr Beckett,” Jamie continued. “If it wasn’t for all those potholes in the lane, I would have got here sooner.”
She bit her lip. Maybe that hadn’t been the best excuse, complaining about the state of what was probably a private road.
His jaw hardened. He didn’t shake her hand. “Not that it’s any of your business, Ms Osborne, but I don’t own the lane. Its state of disrepair does help to keep unwelcome visitors at bay though.”
She got the impression she was the unwelcome visitor, despite him insisting she came within the hour. Jamie dropped her hand, but she refused to be intimidated by the gruff giant. “I can come back later if it’s not convenient, but it won’t take long. I’ll take you through the sign-up process on my laptop in no time.” She smiled sweetly. “It’s really not that difficult.” He might be built like a rhino, but he was still a dumb technophobe.
At that moment, a movement behind him caught her dog’s attention and before she knew what was happening, Cujo leapt out of her bag and ran between the guy’s legs, straight into his home.
Jamie slapped a palm to her cheek. “Cujo! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. He doesn’t usually leave my side.”
His surly attitude softened, and a hint of amusement glinted behind dreamy eyes the colour of mocha. Intriguing flecks of gold caught the afternoon sunlight like glitter.
“You named your Chihuahua Cujo?” His mouth curled into a smile.
“What’s wrong with that? Sorry, I need to find him.” She craned her neck to look around him.
He laughed, a deep rumble inside his chest that made her stomach tingle again.
“You’d better come in then.” He stood back to let her in. “Anything to do with the book of the same name?”
His frame still filled most of the space. As she side-shuffled past, standing as tall as she could, he put his hand on the open door, trapping her.
Heat radiated off his body. His scent surrounded her, earthy and masculine.
Her cheeks warmed. She met his intense gaze. “Yes, but he’s not rabid, I promise.”
“I couldn’t tell by the way he shot through my legs.”
Did he have to mention legs? Hers were turning to jelly.