7 Degrees of Alpha (a collection of seven new BWWM, Alpha Male Romances) (2 page)

“Hey, I saw you earlier…” Jones began as he stopped before her. He looked down her body, taking in her slim figure.

Definitely not stick-like
, he thought appreciatively, as he examined her rounded ass and firm thighs. She had a slim waist and flat stomach, showing that she was no stranger to a gym.
She probably eats healthy too.
He definitely liked what he saw.

She turned her dazzling smile on him, making his insides twist with desire. That smile had him thoroughly hooked. She held herself with confidence, though she had just left the confines of a police station. He liked that.

Obviously not a felon
, he thought.

She bit the side of her mouth again, as she looked him up and down with interest, making him mentally pull in his stomach, puff his chest out a little, and turn to show off his best features. She was apparently pondering over how to respond to his simple introduction.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Her voice was mellow, like roasted coffee beans, causing a whole new dance to begin in his stomach, a dance which quickly spread to other parts of his anatomy. What he’d thought would be a quick hello, a polite inquiry and phone number swap, had turned into something that would take him just a little bit further.

Hell, why not!
He was off for the rest of the day and couldn’t think of anything better than spending a few hours with the dark-skinned beauty.

“Not yet,” he replied, “But I was hoping that we could change that. Join me for coffee.”

It wasn’t a request; it was a gentle demand. Her almond-shaped eyes looked at him, calculating if he was worth the risk.

“I have to get back to work,” she began.

Jones was hearing none of it, however. “Work days usually start at nine. It’s nearly lunch time. Have lunch with me.”

“I don’t think I should,” she countered.

Jones could see that she was interested, but something was stopping her.

Jones gambled on the reason she was stalling. “If he ain’t here to pick you up, means he ain’t worth waiting for.”

“Oh, who says I'm waiting on a ‘him’?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow over her chestnut colored eyes.

“Because you’re the first beautiful woman to turn down lunch with me in a long time,” he whispered. He leaned towards her so he could smell her perfume, a scent that had been wafting around him the longer he stood with her. He wanted to reach out and touch her skin, which shone in the sunlight like raw silk. Her cat-like face complemented her almond-shaped eyes.

She smiled at him, her straight, pearly teeth, lighting up her face. “Not too full of yourself are you? It’s nice to know.”

“I know, right?” he joked. “Have lunch with me so you can put me back in my place.”

She gave him a serious look. “Really, I’d love to. If circumstances were different I would, but I can’t.”

“Now there’s a mystery, and you have to understand, I love a good mystery. So… you’ll have to put me out of my misery and have lunch so that you can explain everything.” He was pushing her, not too gently either, but he couldn’t let her get away, not just yet. “Come on. Make a man happy with a few hours of your presence.”

“A few hours?”

“Okay, one. Maximum two! You couldn’t seriously leave me like this… not now.”

She laughed at his wounded expression, her hand going to her chest, resting between her breasts. Jones’ eyes followed the trail that her hand took, wishing he could swap places with the hand she held there.

“Look … I should be at work…” Jones put on his best puppy expression, willing her to accept his invite, “But with that look on your face…” Her laughter interrupted her.

“A face you can’t resist?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah right… You’re not gonna give up are you?” she sighed.

“Not on your life. I want to take you to lunch, get to know you, and get your number, so that I can call you up in the middle of the night and ask you how you’re doing, spend my free time sending you flowers, and take you out again tomorrow.”

“Hey… I haven’t accepted today’s invitation yet,” she said, indignant.

“Sure you have.” He turned, pointing towards the car lot, “See, my car is parked over there. You know you want to. Admit you’re interested, and let’s go eat. I'm starving.” 

His gentle insistence was wearing her down. He could see the indecision on her face. Her eyes were darting around, looking for an escape, but he had no intention of letting her get away so easy. He wanted to spend his afternoon getting to know her, finding out everything he could about her. She intrigued him, and he wanted to know why. She just didn’t know he was serious yet; he had every intention of doing the things he’d told her he’d do.

“But…” She looked up and down the street, undoubtedly looking for someone or something. Jones could see the hesitancy on her face, and he knew that he had to make a move or he would lose her. Just as he moved to convince her, it appeared that she’d come to a decision alone.

“Okay, I’d like to have lunch with you, but on one condition…”

“Anything,” said Jones, elated.

“What the hell is your name? I can hardly have lunch with a stranger, now can I?”

Jones laughed, taking her hand in his, the feeling of it so right in his large hand. “Jones, Peter Jones, at your service.”

12:30 p.m. October 12, 2004

What had started out for Val as the crappiest morning in history was slowly turning around. Having her car stolen while she’d popped into the bank to pay her bills was not her idea of fun at all, neither was calling Damon, telling him what had happened and getting zero response from him concerning her predicament. The last straw had been when her best friend had let her down too. After an hour or more in the police station, she felt completely drained, emotional and a nervous wreck.

She wondered why Damon had been so unconcerned about her predicament, almost as though he had expected her car to be stolen. It was just another crack in the long line of breaks that she was seeing, and frankly, she was sick of his attitude after all these years. Putting up with his indifference and unrealistic expectations of her had finally reduced her to the lowest point her life could reach. In all honestly, she was just about ready to move on.

So, imagine her surprise, when in the midst of her anguish, a Prince Charming came offering to buy her lunch. She was feeding off the barely suppressed desire he was throwing her way. His interest was so blatant that it made her body heat rise. His insistence had her throwing caution to the wind and accepting a stranger's invitation. She’d hesitated, but something about him set her heart at rest. She knew he wasn’t a bad guy, although he had the look of someone who pushed authority when he chose, making him the bad apple in the bunch, and he was damn sexy with it.

She also felt that if she let him, he’d dominate her without a second thought. He had “alpha” written all over him. He had the presence of a leader, who didn’t seem to take no for an answer, making her want to keep hold of some of her independence. He was obviously a man who got exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. And although Valerie appreciated a man who went after what he set his sights on, sometimes it was murder trying to find space up against an ego so large.

Valerie looked up into his face; his squared jaw, showing signs of the beard just coming back in over his olive-toned cheeks. He had a slightly crooked, aquiline nose and the small scar that divided his right eyebrow showed he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His large hands laying on the table made her body tingle as she measured his long fingers with her gaze. She imagined what he could do with hands like his. She pulled in a deep breath, calming her over-heated sex drive, and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

Valerie pushed her curly, brown hair back over her shoulder and away from her face. The blonde highlights caught the lights in the restaurant, throwing the color back and making the darker shades in her hair shine. She resisted the urge to bunch it up in a messy bun atop her head, but only just. She would go to the bathroom and do it so she could see exactly what she was doing, rather than work blind. Plus, she didn’t want to give Jones any ideas. He was watching her too intently for her to feel comfortable doing it at the table. Plus, if she managed to get five minutes to breathe, she’d be grateful.

“Are you okay, Valerie?” Jones asked her, concern shrouding his face.

“Please call me, Val. Everyone does.”

“Okay,
Val
. Val suits you better. Valerie reminds me of one of my mom’s old friends, and I can assure you that you don’t look like her one bit,” Jones quipped with a look of amusement on his face.

“Valerie was my grandmother’s name, so I got stuck with it. She was a lovely person. Not like me,” Val said, challenging. She wanted to see if he would compliment her or be honest.

“From what I’ve seen so far, I like your style. I never could accept a woman who put up with BS, and you don’t seem like the type that does, that’s good enough for me,” he stated.

“What makes it good enough? You hardly know me, so?”

“Because it’s extremely rare for me to be
this
into a woman after five minutes. And I'm into you… in a big way. So, no thanks! I don’t want you to be nice. I want you to be real.”

Damn! He’s laying it on thick
. Val cleared her throat nervously, shifting her weight in her seat as Peter watched her with an intensity she’d never seen on a man’s face before. It scared her and delighted her at the same time.

“Mmm… I think I should use the little girls’ room. Excuse me a minute,” Val said, standing quickly.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Jones told her.

Val looked at him, as she moved away from the table, making her way to the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant. She pushed open the door, finding the washroom area empty. Stepping inside, Val stood in front of the mirrors and took a good look at herself. She blew a breath out, trying to get a grip on her emotions. If she let Peter Jones take the lead, she could see herself falling into bed with him before the end of the day, and that wouldn’t look good, not with her, anyway!

He intrigued her and thrilled her with his openness. She wanted to explore what he was offering, and it was so clear that he was offering more than she had at the moment; that she was sure of. His piercing eyes were expressive, saying what his mouth hadn’t. Jones’ interest was obvious, and he made no attempt to hold his interest in check. Perhaps it was okay for her to show her feelings too.

She pulled a band out of her bag, wetting her hands under the tap, in the hopes of taming her unruly curls a little. She ran her hand through the dense mass of hair, hoping to give it more definition, as she pulled the whole lot to the top of her head, twisting the mass into a coil.  She wrapped the coil around itself, before holding it in place with the hairband. She re-touched her minimal makeup, sprayed a squirt of perfume under her chin and straightened her blue silk blouse.

Val had worn thigh hugging, navy slacks that flared as they reached her knees, teaming them with black, patent leather heels that made her feel feminine and classy at the same time.

“Okay, let’s do this. No sex on a first date.
Never
. Got that?” she told herself, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She made her way back to the table and took her seat. While she’d been gone, the waiter had brought over their drink order. She reached for hers, taking a sip before glancing up at Jones.

“Do I have something on my face?” asked Val, touching her face uncertainly.

“No. But your hair up gives you a whole new look. Absolutely stunning,” breathed Jones. His fingers played absently with the glass, but he made no move to lower his eyes or change the intense look on his face.

“Don’t you think you’re laying it on a little thick?” Val asked, quirking an eyebrow. “You have my bullshit monitor going haywire.” 

“I can assure you, babe; this is no BS. I like what I see.
A lot
. And I won’t make any excuses for that. I want to see more,” he told her, matter-of-factly.

“Okay,” Val said, looking at him. She wanted to know if there was more to the words than just simple honesty. She could detect nothing, only his more than obvious interest.

“So, why were you in the station this morning?” Jones asked, changing the subject.

“Someone stole my car,” Val replied.

“Oh, that must have been a bitch.” 

“Hardly. It wasn’t a new model. I think I would have freaked out completely if it had been. But it’s my car, the only one I have,” Val said, her mind wandering back to her missing car, and to the reactions of the people who were supposed to be closest to her.

“Where were you when it happened?” he asked casually.

“Are you asking me as an officer or a concerned friend?” Val gave him a look that spoke volumes.

“Sorry, force of habit,” Jones said sheepishly, “But honestly, I’d like to know if I can…”

“I thought this was lunch?” she challenged.

“It is, but that doesn’t mean I'm not gonna be curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know...”

“Satisfaction brought him back. Why the mystery? I could just go to the station and look for myself,” he told her.

“But you won’t, because that would be wrong on too many levels for me to ever see you again and look at you without wondering how much you know about me… Hang on…” She looked at her watch, “I think it’s time for me to leave now that I realize what you really are…” She went to grab her purse and stand.

“Seriously?” Jones stopped her with an intense look, “You want to run out on me because I'm a police officer or because I’m asking questions you don’t want to answer?”

She eyed him with suspicion. “No, I want to leave, because you have the means to know all my dirty little secrets.”

The waiter approached their table, laden with plates filled with steaming hot food. He looked at them, waiting to see if they would send him away or accept the plates of food that he’d brought them. The impasse gave off a sticky, agitated air that made others turn away from them in embarrassment. Jones wasn’t going to give an inch. She could see that he was as intense on a personal level as he was as a police officer. She realized that if he wanted to look into every aspect of her life, he would.

Whether it was to protect her or himself, she had to trust her feelings and leave everything else alone. She could never be sure whether he would or wouldn’t investigate her afterward. She only hoped that he’d judge based on the level of severity he thought it warranted, and she could only believe that he would follow his instincts where she was concerned and not dig too far.

The waiter laid the plates of food on the table, breaking the impasse between them with the delicious aromas wafting around their heads.

Val put her purse back on the table, settling herself again, “Look,” began Val, “I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot. But I don’t want to have to wonder what you know about me when I see you.”

“So, you will have dinner with me again tomorrow?” he said, his sensual lips quirking up on the side in amusement.

“I... I...” Val stammered.

“Val, I don’t want to scare you off, and I would never use my position to find out anything about you that you think may be off limits. I much prefer to discover everything there is to know on a more personal level.” Jones raised his brows, giving her a look that promised so many ways to explore on a personal level that Val squirmed in her seat in awareness of his meaning.

“Okay, just so long as you know, I wouldn’t be okay with that,” she looked over at him, emphasizing her meaning. “Let’s eat.” She placed a forkful of food into her mouth, looking up to catch his storm-grey eyes as he observed her take the food between her lips, seeing the evident desire written there. She licked her lips, removing the sauce that touched her mouth from the connection with the fork.

Jones took a few forkfuls of food into his mouth, before asking her another question. Val could see that he wasn’t finished interrogating her, and she wondered at his tenacity. She doubted if he let much get past his notice when he set his mind to it.

“Just ask,”

“Where were you when your car went missing, Val?”

“Okay, Mister Twenty Questions. I was in the bank paying some bills. When I came out, my car was gone,” she supplied.

“Anything personal inside? Details of your address, banking information, work… things like that?”

“For Christ’s sake, Peter! This is the last question I'm going to answer on this subject. If you wanna know more, go ask the officer I gave all the info to in the station.” She put her fork on the side of the plate and gave him a steady glare.

She held up her hand, ticking off the questions he’d asked. “Yes, there was personal information in there. It was my car so there were papers with my address and personal information on it…
Duh
… So that question is neither here nor there. Banking information, I don’t think so, but if there were, I wouldn’t be surprised, because of question one and two. There was also work information in there. So, if anyone wanted to get to me, that would be easy. Now, drop it, and let me enjoy my lunch before I have to go back to work.”

Jones gave her a devious smile. “You have balls, darling, and I like it.”

“Thank you. Your food’s getting cold,” she reminded him, pointing her fork at his plate.

“So, since you have no car, how will you get to this job of yours that you keep reminding me of?” he asked, eyeing her.

“There is a thing called public transport, you know?” she told him in disbelief.

“What do you do at ‘work’?” he asked her as casually as he could, but failed, which made her laugh out loud, breaking the tension.

“You don’t stop do you? Are you always wearing that police cap of yours?” She gave him an indulgent smile.

“Baby, it is what it is.” She could see that he made no excuses for the career he had chosen, which was fine with her.

“I'm a curator at The Tate.”

“That must be interesting.”

“Oh, it is. To be immersed with hundreds of years of art and artifacts from all over the world is truly amazing!” Her eyes had lit up when she began speaking about her work.

“Why don’t you let me take you back to work? That way you can show me some of this
amazing
art.” Val could see that he was fishing, but what for she had no idea.