Page 12 of Her Wolf

“Brown eyes. Black hair.” She gestured at her own face. “Squarish jaw.”

“Sounds dreamy,” Lars murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

She pointedly didn’t look his away, because if he was wearing one of his omniscient grins, she would break down and confess every dirty, filthy thought she’d had.

And that would shatter them, she knew it. They’d call her a slut, and they would be right.

“Why?” she asked, trying to force her voice out as evenly as possible.

“We should try and figure out who he is.”

“What are you thinking?” Finn asked. “Rival cartel?”

Bailey pressed his mouth into a line, shaking his head from side to side.

“The law?” Lars asked, cupping his hands behind his head and stretching in his chair. It looked about to topple over, but he didn’t seem to have a problem keeping his balance on the two back legs.

“Maybe.” Bailey looked up at her. “He didn’t say or do anything else?”

She shook her head. The fact that he’d been sketching was completely irrelevant – he could have been sketching anything.

She had no proof it was her.

“Try and remember more details. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can get hold of my guy.”

“Your guy?” Lars asked.

Bailey turned to look at Lars, hesitating before saying, “He knows someone in the DEA’s office.”

“You know a guy that knows a guy in the DEA?” Lars cocked a pale eyebrow at him. “My, my, my, aren’t you full of surprises?”

Bailey blushed.

He actually blushed.

Cora’s lips squirmed into a smile. She could remember almost everything of that hedonistic afternoon they’d spent in Javier’s room right before the wedding. Bailey taking instruction from Lars had been such an unexpected—and fucking hot—surprise. Was that what Bailey was thinking about?

And then her cheeks burned, because her insides were writhing at the memory of Bailey going down on her, lapping her with tongue as—

“Head in the game, people,” Finn said. “Who’s this connection?”

Cora cleared her throat, giving Finn a quick, guilty glance before focusing on Bailey again with a purposeful frown.

“Does it matter?” Bailey asked, sitting back and crossing his hands over his chest.

“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Lars’s chair thumped back onto all four legs as he rested an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand.

Bailey looked up at the ceiling as if in silent prayer, and raised his hands. “Look, my family’s always had ties with them. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Lars clapped his hands together and let out a laugh. “Fuck, it keeps getting better.”

“Shut it, Lars,” Finn said.

Lars sat back in his chair, giving Finn a wide smile and a mock salute before turning back to Bailey.

“Bailey?” Cora asked, sitting forward in her chair.

“It’s no big deal,” Bailey said. Then, carefully, he added, “I know a guy in the Irish mafia. And he knows someone in the DEA’s office. Someone they’ve paid to look the other way, I guess.”

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