Page 28 of Mismatched Mates

His handshake was firm, bordering on painful. I refused to wince, even as my bear stirred.Yup, I’m a bear. We’re sworn enemies, but now all I can think about is all the inappropriate things I want to do to your son, and I should probably be blushing, but that would be a sign of weakness, and there is no way I’m giving you even a hint of that.

“Hi, Mr. Elston. It’s so good to finally meet you. Grant has told me so much about you.” The cliched words smoothly rolled off my tongue, punctuated by a possessive touch of Grant’s shoulder. I beamed at him, my expression sugary.

Grant returned it with an adoring look. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said with forced politeness. It was the expected response, after all.

But then he added, “I hope you’re going to be right for Grant.”

Grant stepped between us before any more veiled threats could be unleashed. “Come, let’s get ourselves situated,” he said, leading me away from the family party.

Briefly, I was alarmed that he was going to introduce me to Konrad and I was going to have to play both oblivious and nice, but Grant led me straight to our table in the ballroom.

The ballroom was an ode to the family’s wealth and power, but it achieved that effect quietly. The Elstons were old moneyafter all; they were discretely opulent. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden light, highlighting the ornate moldings and gilded accents. Plush velvet drapes in deep hues framed tall windows overlooking manicured gardens. Priceless paintings of nature and strength adorned the walls, nodding to their shifter heritage.

Each table was draped in linen and decorated with a large but simple bouquet of peonies—out of season but when money’s no object, that doesn’t matter. At one end stood a stage gleaming under soft spotlights as musicians played classical melodies. Waiters elegantly circulated with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne as Grant confidently made his way through the crowd. The party planner in me mentally tallied up the cost to host such an event.

A waiter appeared, offering champagne. I gratefully accepted a flute, the crisp bubbles a welcome distraction as they hit my tongue. Around us, the room buzzed with laughter and conversation.

“Here’s to defeating them at their game. And to your impressive acting skills,” Grant toasted.

“I follow instructions well, when it suits me.”

“Good thing our interests align. I’d hate to be on the opposing team.” His voice was a little rough, and when he drank, I watched the bob of his throat, half consumed with the desire to put my mouth against his skin. It felt as though we were opposite sides of a fuse, and we both held a match. All it would take was for one of us to light it, and we would burn.

I wanted to taste the flames.

Alcohol. Champagne. I took a large sip and tried to steady myself, not thinking about the way his fingers were trailing up the bare skin of my arms.

“This dress looks even better on you than I’d imagined,” he murmured, eyes hot and very, very dark. “But it has me wondering what lies underneath.”

This is a game. Except it felt more real than anything else had in years. My chest felt too tight. When did the pretending end and the truth begin?

“Thank you for that by the way—the dress I mean.”

I took another gulp of champagne and turned away, my palms sweating and my heart pounding. As I shifted, adjusting myself, he caught his breath and took hold of my hips, stilling me. I froze.

“My pleasure,” he rasped in my ear just as the doors opened and the majority of the guests began threading through the room.

I went hot and prickly all over. His hand slid along my waist, and I wriggled away. My bear grumbled her disapproval, but if I didn’t escape then, I wouldn’t have been able to move at all. My body ached for his in a way I’d never experienced before, like it wasn’t merely a desire but aneed, red-hot and potent.

We weaved our way towards our table and took our seats. "Relax," he whispered, his breath warm against my neck. "You look like you're about to bolt."

I forced a smile, hyper-aware of his fingers tracing lazy circles on my leg. "Can you blame me? This isn't exactly my usual Friday night."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through me. "No, I suppose planning children's birthday parties is a bit different from rubbing elbows with Pine River's elite."

I elbowed him lightly. "Hey, you'd be surprised how cutthroat the world of balloon animals can be."

He flashed me a crooked grin. “Would you be okay if I put my hand on your leg during the speeches?”

I knew that from the outside, it was a subtle show of solidarity and unity. Possession. The dark thought sent another bolt of need through me. Jerkily, I nodded, and he placed his hand very properly on my leg, near the knee. Nowhere even near the ache.

As we bantered, I felt some of my earlier tension melt away. It was dangerous, this chemistry between us. I knew I should keep my guard up, remember that this was all for show. But with Grant's arms around me and his warmth seeping into my skin, it was getting harder and harder to remember why.

As predicted, the gala was just as long and as dull as I thought it would be. The only thing that kept my focus was the position of Grant’s hand on my leg. This wasn’t the person I was used to being, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus on the conversation, the dinner, the speeches, or anything.

For the first time in my life, a man had utterly unsettled me, and as much as I hated the realization, I couldn’t bring myself to ignore him. There was a rakish quality to his broader interactions, that was undeniable, but his attentiveness spoke volumes; he made sure I always had water, that I wasn’t uncomfortable, and if anyone even insinuated that I didn’t belong here, his eyes lost their playful gleam and he shut it down with a ferocity that might have alarmed me if I wasn’t concentrating so hard on appearing normal.

Eventually, the inevitable happened and Grant was whisked away, leaving me on my own. “Excuse me,” I said to no one in particular, and left the ballroom in search of some fresh air. Outside, the waning moon grazed the tops of the trees, the airsmelled of pine and woodsmoke and the fresh breeze that always swept down from the mountains.

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