Her Werewolf Lover: Michael and Samantha (The Macconwood Pack Tales #15)

Chapter 4

M ichael’s spine tingled with anticipation.

Holy fuck.

His Wolf growled inside his mind’s eye. A deep, low sound that was unthreatening. In fact, it was more anticipatory than anything.

Shit .

That was usually what happened when things were about to go wonky in his life.

Like the time Maya had announced she had needed a haircut and took matters into her own, little at the time , five-year-old hands.

His cheeky daughter had chopped her bangs off clear to her scalp.

Fun times. SMH .

Being a father meant plenty of those, he knew. But this was different. Samantha was not his child.

The sexy normal was tempting him in ways she wasn’t even capable of understanding.

Yet .

It all hinged on the yet.

See, Werewolves were very physical beings. His libido had always been virile, but this went above and beyond the usual physical needs.

Normally, he’d chalk it up to carnal attraction.

Who could blame him? The woman was absolutely stunning, even if grossly misinformed.

What had she’d called him? A handyman?

He shook his head at her inept description. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Mate.

Holy fuck.

The human was his mate. There was no denying it. But she didn’t understand what that meant. How the hell was he supposed to tell her?

You have time. Take it slow.

This project would be a good opportunity, he supposed.

Of course, Michael could sniff out his Aunt Eileen’s mischief anywhere. His tia had told her beautiful boss lady that he was a handyman, er, a carpenter.

Not even a contractor, Tia ?

Michael allowed a small chuckle to slip through his lips as he stood on the carpeted floor. His fingers were still tingling from where they’d touched the soft skin of her ankle.

This was hardly the time to get a boner, and yet, his cock didn’t give a fuck about propriety.

Thank the gods for thick work jeans.

Looking down at his booted feet on the oddly plush red carpet, he frowned.

The thing was ugly as sin, and what the fuck was it made of? Some kind of velveteen?

He shook his head.

No wonder his aunt’s boss wanted to redo everything. The house had potential, but it was currently hidden under layers of truly terrible and garish décor.

Tacky was too kind a word.

Images of his new client flashed through his mind and he shuddered as he recalled trying to take his eyes off her body in that ridiculously flimsy robe.

The tighter she pulled it, the more it outlined her deliciously bare curves beneath the gossamer thin fabric .

Grrr.

The woman was built. She looked delicious, and the scent of her arousal had him panting for her.

But he needed to focus on the task at hand. She needed an interior designer, or even a carpenter or handyman, like she thought he was. Not the owner and operator of a multi-million dollar design and build firm.

But it didn’t matter now. Cause what she was getting was him and him alone.

Every inch of Michael’s six-and-a-half-foot frame, if his Wolf had anything to say about it.

He closed his eyes and saw his Wolf. The beast was primed, snapped his jaws at him, but Michael ignored it.

His human side was in charge. Not the other way around. The animal in him could whine and threaten all it wanted.

Michael’s gaze returned to where the half-naked woman had sat moments ago with her riot of ridiculously sexy hair hanging in a damp tangle down her back mere moments ago, and fuck, if his heart didn’t threaten to beat him to death.

Did she really have no idea who he was?

Obviously not.

And she clearly had no clue what he was, either .

Thanks Tia , he thought ruefully.

You managed to introduce me to my mate, but you left something out.

Like the fact I’m a Wolf.

He planned out his next phone conversation with his beloved Aunt Eileen in his head while taking stock of the foyer and living room.

Okay , so Aunt Eileen hadn’t lied. He was a handyman once upon a time. But he worked hard and built his business up from nothing.

He had a good life. A good relationship with his daughter. Maya was his pride and joy.

But something had been missing from Michael’s life. Now he knew what it was.

His fated mate.

The woman who’d just been delivered into his eager hands. He had to work to get images of her sumptuous form out of his mind.

His brain was on a seemingly permanent vacation. Like some teenaged boy with his first porno mag.

Michael ran a rough hand over his face. He might as well do what he was there for.

He took measurements and notes while looking around the large house until his soon-to-be-mate rejoined him .

Fuck .

He was already thinking about her in terms of mating. That was bad. Dangerous. It was too soon.

Maybe he should walk right out of there and go home. He could reorganize his schedule so he could take a little time off for himself and Maya.

His daughter was already twelve years old, growing by leaps and bounds. He couldn’t help but feel he was losing her.

As the mysteries of womanhood drew nearer, his baby girl was becoming more withdrawn. Michael sighed again.

It was his job to fix whatever it was that he’d managed to break between himself and his only child. Was it fair to introduce a mate into his life at this crucial time?

He wished it was as easy as fixing this place would be, he thought as he walked around.

Red velvet and gold accents on every damn thing in sight. What the fuck?

Thoughts floated back to Samantha as he took in the computer set up on one incredibly ugly writing desk.

It was all spindle legs and supercilious finery. Impractical, to say the least. Definitely not suited for actual work .

Still, he smiled when he pictured the redheaded beauty perched on the velvet covered stool and typing.

Some emailing? Social media perhaps? He had no fucking idea what women spent their time on.

Technology was not exactly Michael’s friend. Now Maya was another story. His daughter just loved computers and cell phones with all those apps.

She was wonderful with them, and he indulged her with new tablets, laptops, phones and any software as it came out.

But she needed more from him, more than he had time to give right now what with working anywhere from sixty to eighty hours a week.

She’d probably love getting her hands on Samantha’s powerful laptop. Michael grinned, already thinking about Christmas gifts for his clever, dark-haired daughter.

He should leave, but she hadn’t come back down yet.

Almost twenty-minutes had passed, and he was getting antsy.

Should he just leave a note and head out?

The sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs reached his ears just before her scent hit him .

Saliva gathered in his mouth, and he swallowed. Hard.

She entered the living room and fuck, she looked good. Before, she’d been fresh from the shower with her hair wet and dewy skin—a knockout to be sure.

Now, she was all dressed and tidied, and the result was positively stunning.

She had on a pair of stretchy pants and a plain gray top that weren’t designed to attract, and yet he was.

Very, very attracted .

Thick hair in an intricacy of colors he’d never be able to label fell in curling waves around her feminine shoulders, drawing his eyes like moths to a flame.

Sunlight streamed in from the window behind her, lighting her on fire the same way she kindled flames inside of him and his Wolf.

Her pale, smooth skin seemed to glow like ivory in the sunshine. Healthy and lovely, all natural, too, to his surprise.

He knew she was a former model from his aunt. But she wore no make-up that he could see.

He inhaled a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, hoping to control his beast’s reaction. Of course, at that same moment, a blast of vanilla filled his nostrils.

He bit his tongue to stop his growl from emerging.

She smells like a French vanilla ice cream.

His favorite.

Michael cleared his throat as she gaped at him expectantly.

“Well?” She asked as he blinked his eyes at her.

“Um, well , there is nothing structurally wrong with the house or the grounds-”

“I know that, but come on. What do you make of all this ?” She gestured around her.

“Well, I have to admit, Sunshine, this was somewhat unexpected. Uh, my Tia said your husband bought this house?”

“Ex-husband, Mr. Duarte, and yes, Gary bought it. I asked for it in the divorce settlement. But, as a special little gift, he hired his first wife to decorate the place once it was decided I would live here. He’s funny like that,” she muttered, and Michael had an urge to look Gary up and pay him a visit.

“Seriously though,” she continued, “I can’t stand it as is. There are too many walls in here, too much separation. I think he had them added when he asked his first ex-wife to redo the place. Do you have any ideas on how I can open the space and get rid of, well , all of it?”

She turned her luminous hazel eyes on him.

Fuck yeah, we can do that, Sunshine.

Michael had to regroup for a second. The nickname just came to him and now that he thought it, he admitted it was perfect.

Samantha was bright and beautiful as the sun, and just as precious to him. She wouldn’t know it yet. She couldn’t. But someday. He was counting on the someday .

Soon. Someday soon , his Wolf insisted.

She will be mine. My Sunshine.

She was tall for a human woman, but even in heels, she wouldn’t be eye level with him. He liked knowing he wouldn’t crush her, but there was something to be said about being able to take care of her in every way.

He could make her feel good, couldn’t he?

“Yeah, we can do that,” he murmured, but was he answering her questions or his internal ones?

Either way, Michael could do that.

Hell.

He damn well was born to do just that.

Arousal flared beneath his skin, and he took a deep inhale, savoring her delicate scent, memorizing it. This woman was dangerous. But his Wolf wanted her. And so did his human side.

Her eyes flashed a greenish-gold color with flecks of amber, and he had to wonder what they’d look like if he kissed her.

He expelled a breath and ran another hand through his dark hair. A gesture he’d used a lot as a kid.

Waving his arm to encompass the whole space in front of him, Michael tried to ignore his erection, the scent of her permeating the air, and the sizzle flaring to life between them.

Not an easy feat when it was doing everything, but literally setting him on fire.

“So, our timeline depends entirely on what you have in mind.”

“What will it cost?” Sam asked, and bit her lower lip.

Ahh. Here we go. The money talk.

One thing Michael loved about dealing with only large corporations was that money was hardly an issue, though yes, some haggling did occur.

He faced her down, letting her know her pretty face wouldn’t get in the way of his honest assessment. Even if his Wolf would never permit him to charge her a red fucking cent .

Mine.

“First, tell me two things. Why do you want to do this? And how much are you willing to put into it?” he asked, knowing full well she needed to do some of this for herself.

Newly divorced. Looking to establish her footing. We must do what is right for our mate, he told his Wolf as he felt the animal’s ire rise.

“Well, um, I want this place to be mine . I mean, I need it to be. And I am willing to put everything I have into it,” she said, nodding once as if that decided it all.

“Good,” he murmured having unconsciously moved closer, her warm vanilla scent filled his nostrils, and his Wolf growled with intent.

“Did you hear that?” she asked, looking past him.

“Um, no,” he said, cutting off that pesky rumble, “But good news, I think we can work together.”

“When can we start?” she asked, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“Right now,” he returned, holding her gaze a beat longer than was necessary before spinning to gesture to the nearest wall.

“See this wall? It’s an addition. Cramps the space,” he grabbed a hammer from where he’d spied one by a pile of moving boxes in the foyer .

“This is where you start,” Michael said and handed the tool to her, closing her hand around the wooden handle.

Samantha blinked and looked down at the hammer in her hand.

He imagined it felt foreign to her. Michael was taking a risk here, but he trusted his gut. Something about that wild look in her eyes told him she needed this as much as he needed to be the one to help her do it.

He liked how her smaller hand felt, so soft and cool to the touch wrapped inside his bigger, rougher one.

Was she soft everywhere?

He was willing to bet she was. And Michael couldn’t wait to find out.

She blinked and cleared her throat, stepping back and facing the wall. Michael watched her covetously.

“Hang on,” he interrupted, grabbing a pair of protective glasses from his belt and sliding them on her face.

She blinked and nodded her thanks. Then she faced that wall like it was her greatest enemy. Pride filled him as he took her in.

Sexy little badass .

“You can do this, Sunshine,” he whispered, and watched her narrow her eyes at the wall.

With a small grunt, Samantha smashed the hammer through the sheetrock.

She looked fierce and beautiful. Like a warrior staking her claim. She wasn’t some trophy or just some beauty queen or whatever her ex had her believe.

Samantha had spunk and grit, and Michael liked both. He had to admit she was not what he’d expected at all.

Mine , his Wolf snarled.