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Good. He liked her that way. Easier to pounce. "Afraid of the big bad wolf, are you?"
"I'm not afraid of anything. We're here for business, Max, not personal pleasure."
"So, you're indicating you could receive personal pleasure from me?"
She huffed out a sigh. "No, that's not what I meant and you know it. Now do you mind? There are a lot of people I want to talk to tonight. Influential people. People who will spread the word about The Rising Storm casino."
"In other words, you don't trust yourself in my arms. You're afraid of me."
Her eyes narrowed, shooting icy daggers at him. Perfect. Why he enjoyed tormenting her, he didn't know. Probably because she provided such a passionate reaction to his teasing. If she didn't care about him, she wouldn't react like she did.
"I'm not the least bit afraid of you."
"Prove it. Dance with me."
"This is ridiculous."
"Coward."
"That's it." She marched onto the makeshift dance floor, then turned and held out her hands. "Okay, Fred Astaire. Show me what you've got."
He intended to.
Chapter Five
Did Max have to look so breathtakingly handsome in a tux? Shannon kept as much distance between the two of them as possible, hoping to at least manage to appear cool and calm, though she was anything but.
Damn, he smelled good. And the tux molded itself to his body like it had been sewn on. She found it difficult to resist running her hand over his shoulder, feeling his muscles bunch tight and hard underneath the jacket.
He looked dark, dangerous, like a secret agent.
Or a man with a secret. Something about Max signaled warning bells in her head, but she couldn't put a finger on it.
"I don't have leprosy," he said with a teasing smile, then yanked her flush against him. Her bare thigh brushed his leg.
She swallowed, then looked around, hoping for something or someone to rescue her. Not that he appeared to be willing to let her go. She felt imprisoned, as if she couldn't pull away if she wanted to.
The really bad thing was, she didn't want to.
He shifted, pulling her even closer, if that was possible. "Would you relax? I don't bite."
Ha. That remained to be seen. Or not seen. No. Bad mind, bad. Don't go there.
"Unless you want me to. Do you like a little nibble, say, on the neck or shoulder?"
Her gaze flew to his. Tiny wrinkles crinkled at the corners of his eyes when he flashed that gleaming grin.
"Yes, I see it in your eyes, Shannon. Makes me really curious as to other things you might like."
If she could find her voice, she'd tell him in no uncertain terms that she wasn't the least bit interested in his bites, or anything else he might have in mind. She'd be lying, of course. Visuals entered her mind--being entwined with him and having him sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder as he rode her hard and deep.
Max inhaled, his eyes drifting closed for a brief second. When he opened them again, the grin had left his face. "I want to make love to you, Shannon. Tonight."
Desire coiled deep in her belly and moved south quickly. Her nipples tightened, her breasts swelling against the material of her dress. Thankfully, he couldn't see.
And how was she supposed to respond? Her mind screamed no fucking way, but her body shrieked Yes! Yes! Oh, hell yes! "That's not a good idea."
"Fuck 'good idea'. I want you."
Had someone turned the air conditioning off? It was blistering hot. Droplets of perspiration settled between her breasts. Her panties dampened. Had to be the heat.
She had to get her traitorous body under control and quickly. They were in the middle of a cocktail party with hundreds of people around them.
And her legs were trembling.
"Max, let go of me. This isn't going to happen between us. Not tonight, not ever."
"I say it will happen. And it will happen tonight."
His response gave her exactly what she needed. A little righteous indignation to cool her libido. "You're so smug, aren't you? Do you always think you can have whatever you want?"
There was that devastating smile again. "Do you?"
"I control my own destiny, Max. No one tells me what I will or won't do."
"Maybe before you met me. I know you like to be in control, Shannon. I'll bet you even have to tell your men what pleases you in the bedroom. You like to call the shots, tell them when and where."
"Exactly."
"But I'll bet deep down inside, you're hoping that somewhere out there is a man who'll take that control away from you, who'll tell you what to do and when. And who instinctively knows just what you need without having to ask you for directions how to get there. You're begging for it. And I'm going to give it to you, exactly the way you want it, and exactly the way I want it."
No! His egotistical suggestions didn't excite her in the least. In fact, she was just about ready to haul off and slap him one.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Saved by the bell. Or in this case, her mother. Who was, as usual, beautifully attired in a long, golden dress that caught the light and dazzled like sparkling champagne. She kissed her mother on the cheek. "Hi Mom. You look stunning. When did you get here?"
Her mother grinned. "Merci, ma belle. You look beautiful, too. We slipped in about five minutes ago. Your father and I have been watching you dance with this handsome man here. Care to introduce us?"
Shannon stepped back and hugged her father, grateful for their timely interruption. "Max Devlin, this is my mother, Angelina and my father, Galen."
Not the least bit wary, Max enthusiastically shook her father's hand, then kissed her mother on both cheeks. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Your daughter has me so spellbound I didn't notice you standing there. My apologies."
Max sized up Galen immediately. An exchange of something elemental and slightly magical occurred between them, a spark that he felt like a warm air current sizzling through him. An awareness, almost like a meeting between two alphas of opposing packs. He'd seen it before, felt it before. Respected it. Galen Storm was not someone to mess with. Max had sensed the same thing when he first met Logan and Aidan. Without words, he communicated his intent to Galen, showing his respect by stepping away from Shannon, acknowledging that his child didn't belong to Max. Yet.
Galen nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Max. I've heard very good things about you from Melissa."
"Thank you, sir. I'm honored to be working on The Rising Storm's public relations campaign."
"Okay, before you two get involved in business talk, I'd like to dance with this young man here. Galen, dance with your daughter."
"Yes, dear," Galen responded dutifully, winking at Angelina as he led Shannon around the dance floor.
Max pulled Angelina into his arms. Damn, the woman was breathtakingly beautiful, no matter what her age. Petite, her body still that of a young woman's. Glossy, dark hair reflected the light of the chandeliers, curls streaming down the side of her face and resting against prominent cheekbones. Her amber eyes sparkled.
"You're here for more than just The Rising Storm's campaign," she said.
Now how could she know that? Or maybe she was just fishing.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Mrs. Storm."
"Call me Angelina. And I think you know exactly what I mean."
Did he? He knew the Storms had magic, and he could certainly feel a power emanating from this diminutive yet obviously commanding woman. If Shannon had it, then it stood to reason that Angelina had it, too.
"Why don't you tell me what you think you know, and I'll tell you if you're right?"
She laughed, soft and gently. "Oh, you're very good, Max. I can see why Shannon likes you."
"She told you that?" That would be a surprise if it were the case. As it was, he'd been expecting a resounding slap across the face from her before her parents showed up.
"Of course not. I know my daughter. She's very stubborn." Lowering her voice and glancing around the room, she whispered, "She gets that from her father."
Now it was Max's turn to laugh. "I think she might get some of her high spiritedness from her mother, too."
"Maybe. Now as far as what you want, I can sense you're different from most men."
That was an understatement. "Go on."
"And you have an agenda while here. One that goes beyond the campaign for The Rising Storm."
Okay, she was right on that one, too.
"You're very powerful, Max. But keep this in mind. So am I, as is my family. I sense you have an attraction to my daughter, and while I don't necessarily feel that's a bad thing, I won't stand by and watch her be hurt by anyone. We defend our own."
A fierce mother protecting her young. How could Max not respect that? "I understand, Angelina. And believe me, the last thing I want is to hurt Shannon. I believe we share a destiny."
She arched a brow. "A destiny? How so?"
Max wasn't certain how much she'd already guessed about him, so he wasn't going to volunteer too much information. How could he explain to Shannon's mother that he was a werewolf and had chosen her daughter for his mate? She just might not like that idea. "I believe we're fated to be together."
