Page 28 of Kidnapped By the Wolf

It doesn’t help that I know exactly what he looks like without a shirt. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing him in those boxer briefs I discovered earlier.

Stop it, I tell myself sternly. Icannotbe attracted to an alpha wolf.

Following Adrian out onto the deck, I’m stunned when I see his setup. Outdoor heaters flank a wooden table set for two. There’s a glass of wine for each of us, and the open bottle is in the middle of the table next to a flickering candle.

He’s set this up as though we’re on a date, but that’s not where this evening is headed. We’re supposed to discuss Adrian’s proposal — the one where I stay in Gold Creek and become part of his pack.

If someone had told me the alpha of the Gold Creek wolves would be offering me a place to stay — and a way out from under Clint’s thumb — I’d have said they were out of their mind. But after spending the last two days with Adrian, I get the feeling that he’s serious.

His offer is complicated by this bizarre attraction I feel toward him — and the way his wolf responded to seeing me in his clothes. Even though I know his reaction is just a territorial alpha thing, I can’t deny that it turned me on.

Not that this could ever actually go anywhere. Eventually, Adrian will need to claim a mate, and he won’t choose some lowly human. He’ll pick a well-bred, dominant she-wolf so he can produce dominant pups.

For some reason, the idea of him giving some hypothetical female his mark rankles me — even more once I glimpse Adrian’s gold-flecked eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

He’s added the steaks and grilled vegetables to my contribution of mashed potatoes. As soon as he picks up his utensils and begins to eat, I understand why he bought three steaks instead of two.

We eat in silence for several minutes, me carefully cutting my meat into little pieces as Adrian wolfs down his second ribeye. The meat is cooked to perfection, and the grilled vegetables are delightfully caramelized.

I’m guessing the alpha’s taste in wine is on point, too, so I pick up my glass and give it a sniff. The fruity aroma makes my mouth water. I decide there’s no reason for Adrian to poison me, so I take a sip.

“I’m sorry you had to spend the whole day cooped up in the cabin,” Adrian rumbles.

“It was fine,” I say, swilling the glass. “It felt good to have a real shower for a change.”

The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to consider them, and I instantly wish I could stuff them back in.

Adrian’s brows scrunch together, and I can practically see his gears turning. “Does your bathroom at home not have a shower?”

“No,” I say in an offhand voice, taking another swig of my wine. “Though not many VW buses are equipped with showers.”

He blinks. “You live in a Volkswagen bus?”

“I have been,” I admit, setting down my wine before I do something really unclassy, like down the rest in one gulp. “I . . . left my father’s pack back in July, and I haven’t been able to get my own place yet.”

I don’t mention that settling down would make it too easy for Dane to find me.

Adrian seems to forget all about his second steak, holding his knife in a white-knuckled grip. “YouleftClint’s pack?”

Shit. There goes what little value I had. Now he’s going to know that my father couldn’t give two shits about what happens to me.

I nod.

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

I sigh and cast around for an answer that doesn’t make it sound as though I’ve been the pack’s punching bag for the last twenty-five years. “I guess I just got tired of the way they all looked at me…like I shouldn’t be there because I was human.”

A muscle ticks in Adrian’s jaw. So much for not sounding pathetic.

“What made you decide to join the marines?” I ask, going back to my steak in a desperate attempt to take the focus off of me.

He clears his throat, frowning. “It’s not as if I had a ton of other choices.”

“Really? I would have thought an alpha had a lot of options.”

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