ALPHA SPEED DATING (BBW) (Rocky Mountain Shifters) Page 5

  She shook her head. “What?” she asked, squarely facing him.

  “No need to use pretentious titles. They’re meaningless. Call me Conrad. Okay?” His flawless gaze boldly raked over her. “Louis, this is Mari, the person in charge of my person tonight. Have you met before?”

  Her fingers curled around her clipboard. Conrad’s cavalier attitude roused her desire to contradict him. He winked into her blushing face, then turned toward the man who stood in the doorway. Oh, he thought this amusing. Right, she reminded herself. This was a bar and here was a smooth playboy. Any idiot, with or without a press pass, could see the train wreck ending.

  Mari shifted her focus to Louis Clermont. He was equally tall but with a slight built. Pale skin, curling blond hair, and a boyishly handsome face. She recalled greeting him earlier and his opaque reference to his friend arriving late.

  “A delight, Mari. Can’t say we’ve crossed paths beyond check-in tonight.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Clermont,” she said, wearing a tight smile. “Did you enjoy the dinner?”

  “Lip-smacking. Conrad, even you would appreciate the meal. It isn’t your beanie weenie energy bar fare, but thankfully, what is?” Louis waved his hand, pretending to be exasperated.

  A woman ambled up, dressed in a skimpy nurse costume, and a sip away from an empty martini glass. She glanced at Mari with a raised brow followed by a once-over before she wedged closer to Conrad. “Louis, this can’t be your mysterious friend. I know you…Conrad Fisher?”

  “Ah, so you’ve met.” Louis smiled broadly. “Come on, Conrad, we’ve a table in the back. Grab a drink. Looks like Anita is running low on fuel. Show Conrad the bar, and you two can reacquaint yourselves.”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced, but we do have a common interest. There’s a charity ball coming up. I’m going. Isn’t that a function run by—”

  Conrad interrupted the woman. “Yes. I’ll meet you and Louis inside.” Gesturing in her direction, he finished, “Mari was answering some of my questions.”

  Mari watched an odd silent communication pass between Conrad and Louis. Definitely, these two were a tag team of sorts and she didn’t appreciate this type of game involving the rich, famous, and single.

  “Anita, to the bar.” Louis steered her back toward the entrance, but not before the nurse ran her hand over Conrad’s arm.

  “Do hurry,” the nurse purred. “We have so much to discuss.”

  He didn’t budge as he glanced down at his arm, a muscle clicking along his jaw. After his friends departed he shook his head. Conrad glanced at her with his brows drawn. When their gazes reconnected, her heart sprinted against her will.

  “Come sit with me,” he said. “Let’s talk over a drink.”

  “No,” she replied, staring warily back at him and struggling to define why he had this wrecking ball force over her will. “I’ve a few things to tidy up here. You go. I’ll catch up.”

  His proposition would have sounded wholly appealing if there wasn’t a rapidly forming line of women wishing to lay hands on him. He might not be a cheater, but he was a playboy. A gorgeous problem she’d already sampled and gotten burned over. Only a nitwit would come back for a second serving of Conrad Fisher. Well, pity the fool but it wasn’t her. Not tonight.

  “Then I’ll stay and wait.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  Mari exhaled, thinking fast. She inched away from him, but he was unrelenting and stepped closer than before. “I can’t,” she said.

  “Give me a chance.” He pressed his lips into a line.

  Exasperated, she glared up at him and hissed, “Look, I can’t just abandon my post. Obviously, you have fans waiting.”

  “I expect you to make good on your promise.”

  All of sudden Anita reappeared next to Conrad with Louis in tow. The space at the door where she and Conrad stood was too crowded for words. The woman curled a set of long fingers, tipped by red nails, around Conrad’s forearm.

  Mari rolled her eyes at him. “Seems like you are too darn popular for your own good. Should I take a number?”

  “Not yet, Lou. We’re one short,” Anita whined. “I’m not leaving without Conrad. I think I’ve found my new ball escort.”

  He stared at Mari. “You haven’t seen the last of me,” he whispered before ducking inside with the woman who resembled a new appendage to his body.

  He was ready to kick Lou’s arse for this unplanned introduction. Anita was past the point of tipsy, stumbling as she walked. He turned back to glance at Mari, peeling off Anita’s fingers. The tempting siren had disappeared from the entrance. He stopped, even though Anita yanked on his arm. Where in blue blazes did Mari go? And where in the hell did Louis run off, leaving him to deal with this inebriated woman? Christ, he wouldn’t have veered from the doorway until Anita almost spilled the beans about his infamous family. He didn’t want to think about his father or the fiasco in play. One faultless night was all he asked for. God, he desired nothing more than to find Mari and a quiet corner and get to know her…better.

  Something about her stirred his curiosity, and that was rare. Her tempting curves had his mouth watering and his palms itching, not to mention his other body parts that wanted in on the action. With her fresh mouth and flashing eyes, she was the kind of woman who could take what he had to give and more. Didn’t look the sort to avoid sex because it got hot and sweaty or it might mess up her hair. Mari’s lush curves invited him to imagine all sorts of sexy scenarios.

  “Let’s go. The bar isn’t going to come find us,” Anita said, and then jerked his arm.

  He glowered in response. “Anita Paulson,” he said, recalling her. The nurse getup had thrown him for a second. “Senator, you’re right. I do recognize you.”

  “I hope you voted. I am a woman for the people. And I love shifters. All sorts, as long as they’re handsome. And sexy.”

  “How about some coffee?” Conrad suggested, looking for a spot to park her. Once at the bar, he divested himself of Anita. The senator was all too keen on shacking up, and from the way she flirted with those around her, it might as well be anyone.

  “I’m here to party. You in or out? I know Louis wasn’t interested. Are you two a couple or what?”

  “Yeah. We have a thing.” Conrad stared deadpan at the senator.

  “I knew it. I can spot male-on-male action a mile away. You’re cute anyway and that mess of a breakup. Was it because of Louis?” She thumped the bar with her hands, calling for the bartender.

  “No comment,” he muttered the words he’d grown accustomed to repeating over the last week. Jesus, this was turning into a huge hassle.

  “What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

  “Finally,” she scoffed. Anita braced herself against the bar. “Dirty martini. Four olives.”

  The bartender turned to him. “Bourbon. Neat.” Conrad motioned to the bartender that the senator didn’t need more booze.

  “Gotcha on that one. I’ll have you two fixed up in a jiffy.”

  Anita nattered on with another man at the bar about politics. Conrad watched as the bartender made a martini with straight water, a heavy splash of brine, and a spear loaded with olives, then slid it forward on the smooth wood surface. “Your martini.”

  The senator lurched around, grinning over at him. She popped the olives in her mouth and chewed rapidly. Dropping the plastic spear, Anita picked up the glass and guzzled the contents down. Wiping her hand across her mouth, she focused her attention on Conrad, then laughed. “Wow, that one was super strong.”

  “Slow it down. Did you drive here tonight?” he asked. Clearly, she needed a caretaker, and he couldn’t walk away.

  “Yep. Why would I bring a date to find one? I’m not into three-ways. Yet.” She ran her hand over his arm. “You might convince me, cowboy.”

  “Let’s see if we can find you…something.” He waved to the bartender, intending to query him about the Den’s policy on taking keys or getting ca
bs for those needing to tap out. Something to ensure Anita was not behind the wheel.

  “Another, and make it a double. Whew, that went right to my head. Well, hello, handsome.” She latched onto a guy standing to her side.

  Conrad doubted she was interested in anyone in particular in her state. If she kept it up, she’d be blacking out soon. She didn’t seem to care who she ended up with. She stumbled, and Conrad reached out. The other man circled his arm around Anita’s waist and looked over at him.

  “I just met her.” Conrad shrugged, lowering his voice. “She needs help.”

  “We’ve dated. Obviously, she’s had way too much to drink.” The man lifted his mask. “Anita, you’re wasted. You need coffee.”

  “No coffee.” She wrapped her arms around the other man’s middle, burying her face in the guy’s neck.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. Name is David. I saw what you did with the martini.” He winked. “Good idea.”

  “No problem. You sure you’re not going to let her drive?”

  “When hell freezes over. I’m FBI. Special agent, and not about to let her do something idiotic.” David flashed his badge. “She’s safe with me.”

  Conrad picked up his drink, mock saluted, and walked off. Weaving in between masked people, he made his way to the back of the room. He scanned the crowd for Mari. He drained his glass and set it down on a table set with pens and date forms. The speed dating details. The muscles along his neck tightened at the thought of Mari giving her name to any man present other than himself.

  Dammit, what did she possess that in a blink had crept under his skin worse than a powerful drug? For one thing, her suckable lips came to mind. He craved kissing, licking, and biting Mari’s incredible mouth. He battled the urge to turn the place upside down in search of her. His wolf pawed the interior of his mind, having caught the scent of a challenge. Shit, he was starting to grow hard recalling her creamy skin he longed to touch. Taste.

  Truthfully, she hit him hard with her ability to push back when he’d obviously forgotten his manners and visually trailed across her eye-popping mounds, his gutter thoughts all too obvious. He didn’t need a meal after that feast. Focusing his attention on the crowded room, he searched for one fascinating female.

  He stopped short at seeing her across the room in the shadows. A man had her backed up against the wall, and from the way the guy stood in front of Mari, it sure as shit looked like he’d boxed her in, too tight to get away. Decision made, he surefooted his way toward Mari, just about colliding with a couple. His wolf senses were irked, further getting hot under the collar when the man detaining her flashed a look over his shoulder, as though scouting out the place. Probably a drunk like Anita, and Mari couldn’t escape.

  Conrad reached for the guy’s shoulder and gripped him hard. “Excuse me, everything all right?”

  Mari’s eyes went wide, and she appeared troubled. “Conrad?” She sounded surprised in lieu of relieved.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, shooting a dangerous glare at the man waylaying her. “Looks like you could use some help.” The bloke had his brows drawn up. But in fairness, that look came about after he’d snagged the shoulder of the man’s jacket and tugged him backward.

  “Conrad? It’s been awhile.”

  Shite. He released his hold, staring at a familiar face. “Tristen. I didn’t recognize you without the beard.” Hell, no. This situation was nothing like it appeared at first glance. Damn, he’d overreacted.

  Tristen thrust out his hand. “Shaved it off when I joined up with Shawn on a permanent basis. Heard you were back in town.”

  “A buddy talked me into coming over tonight. Shawn and Quinn around?”

  “Away. Shawn’s mate is expecting, and Quinn. Jesus, he finally got engaged.”

  “Sherry?” Conrad chuckled.

  “Who else? Wedding is in a couple of months. Things have been chaotic around here.”

  “It’s great seeing you,” Conrad muttered, perplexed at his raging instincts to protect this wisp of a woman. He glanced at Mari, his heart pounding, and he desired to steal her away, even though he was assured Tristen was no threat.

  “You needed Mari?”

  He turned to her and kept his voice calm. “Wanted to find out if you could talk. Or if you were busy before things heated up again.”

  “Umm, not really. Just waiting for staff to clear away the plates. Did you need to talk right now?”

  He exhaled. “When you’ve got a moment.”

  She reminded him of a deer frozen in a line of fire with her wide eyes and stiff reply. “Sure. I’ll be at your complete service.”

  Tristen scanned the room. “Time for me to make a sweep. I’ll let you get back to our guests. And congratulations are in order.”

  Mari shyly smiled at Tristen, then looked back at him. The effect was shattering. “Officially, I just accepted a position here at the Den. Part-time.”

  “So, you’re part of the team here. Good deal.”

  Tristen faced him. “We’re short staffed. The reason I’ve been hurled into supervising. Generally, I keep busy with security, which requires my attention. Good to see you again, Conrad.”

  “Tremendous evening so far.” They shook. Great going. He’d almost punched an old acquaintance. “I’ll have to check out the restaurant sometime.”

  “Do. Our wine cellar is excellent. If I can do anything, here’s my card.”

  “I’ve no doubt I’ll be back after tonight.” He took Tristen’s business card and ran his finger along the edge. “Take it easy.”

  Tristen straightened, and nodded to Mari and him. Bloke was ice. Years ago and now. Up close, Morrison was hardly the kind of person to be publically intoxicated, harassing a woman.

  “Likewise,” Tristen retorted, one corner on his mouth curling upward.

  Conrad tamped down his aggravation over the reckless error in judgment. Louis was right. He’d better start thinking with his head up top when it came to women.

  He shrugged. “I owe you an apology.”

  “How so?” Mari asked.

  “Stalking. A second away from punching Tristen’s lights out.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Thought he was a drunken sod cornering you. Chalk it up to an overactive imagination. I could go on.”

  Her lips curved sensuously, provoking his interest to make her smile up at him. “No harm done. These events are pressure cookers. They’re supposed to be fun, but sometimes people tend to drink more than usual. Thank you, but I don’t want to keep you from your friends. Louis and Anita.”

  “You’re not.” He glanced at Louis seated with a couple at a back table, deep in conversation. “Congratulations on the job. What exactly will you be doing in a place like this?”

  “You say it like I’ve just signed up to tame tigers.”

  “The place is filled with shifters. That’s considered somewhat taxing in anyone’s book.”

  “Do I look incapable?” Her brow lifted as though she saw all the way through him.

  The muscles in his neck and shoulders knotted. He tunneled his fingers through his hair, unsure of what to say. “I guess it’s presumptuous of me. You just don’t seem like the type of woman who would be working in a place where…”

  “So, you know about the upper floors?” Her slender brow rose higher.

  “Most people who come here probably do. It’s the main attraction.”

  Each utterance from his idiot mouth came out worse. Her expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. Anger. Annoyance. He’d struck a nerve.

  “I didn’t. Not at first when I heard about the Den. My friend works here. I just got laid off. The Den has a full social calendar. The experience is priceless. What happens upstairs, stays up there. My job is to help out at parties. I guess for someone with a title, a place like this might be off-the-wall. Not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth, Your Grace.” The skin colored over her face, and her eyes sparked in blazing a
mber liquid. Standing near him, Mari ignited a flame within his blood.

  He locked onto her gaze. “I’d like to show you what I think about our mouths. Collectively.” The exit doorway to the outside was feet away. He took her hand, warm, smooth, and dainty in his, and was just about to haul her outside where he could frame his response in some very sure ways to staunch the flow of her barbed words. Devouring Mari’s mouth was not out of the question when a woman grabbed her arm.

  “Mari, here you are. Need to talk. Excuse us.” Both women looked up to him.

  “Yes. Excuse me,” she murmured.

  He squeezed her fingers. “Don’t run off. We need to finish talking,” he said, clamping his jaws together.

  “Fine. Give me a moment.” She moved to the side with the tiny woman, who shook with excessive energy from head to foot. The woman’s voice was audible and he tuned in, his curiosity pricked about Mari. His wolf senses lapped at any crumb of information to solve the enigma of her. He let his gaze wander over Mari, snapping up images.

  What had begun as a rescue mission became a predatory gambit. The beast within him refused to let go, and now had begun stalking her, acquainting itself with the perimeter of the area for the chase. After this near shamble with Tristen, his wolf peered outward, regarding Mari, the woman and the she-wolf. He sniffed the air, seeking her fragrance.

  Conrad pressed back against the wall as Mari’s feminine lupine scent teased his wolf senses, a beast hard to wake, but, once roused, his primal nature refused to settle down until appeased. His heartbeat rocketed. The beast in him craved Mari’s she-wolf.

  Her coworker looked over at him, then back up at her. “We should begin. The clients are getting restless, and that’s never good. Tristen set up the overhead clock, and we’re ready to go.” The jarring sound of glass breaking stole everyone’s attention. It was followed by a short-lived hush before the buzz of conversation ensued louder within the bar.

  “Oh, Moses! Sonya, looks like this evening is one of those nights,” Mari said. A quick flash of her gaze touched him, then shot across the room. Both women rose up on the balls of their feet, craning their necks. He smirked at the slight reference to him.