The Alpha's Reluctant Mate (2 page)

“I don't have another dog, Mort, just Dizzy,” I said softly, trying to remain patient even though no one could have been more disturbed by the howling than me.

That brought his eyes up to mine with a snap; Mort loved a rousing argument. “I heard it! You have two…” His tirade trailed off as he stared at me.

“Mort?”

“Hello, I don't believe we've met, gorgeous.”

I blinked. “Don't be stupid, Mort, of course we've met. I've lived below you for over four years.”

“Nah, Xandie is dumpy and rather ordinary, you on the other hand are anything but,” he said, leaning in to sniff my hair.

I drew back in horror; what was wrong with him? “That is not funny, Mort!”

“How about dinner tomorrow night, or even now?” He waggled his uni-brow at me suggestively.

Why a man thinks that after calling you dumpy and ordinary you would feel in any way romantic is beyond me. But then maybe that's just me, but with everything else going on, it just plain irritated me.

“Get lost, Mort,” I said succinctly before slamming the door in his face. What a jerk! With a sigh, I went to clean up the mess in my living room.

It took me twenty minutes to clean up the crushed plastic, plaster, and paint. The drywall had left a fine dust covering on most of the living room. I really didn't seem to know my own strength.

Finally finished, I sank back down on the couch and pulled the fuzzy blanket back over me. I was too tired to walk the few more yards it would take to get to my bedroom; snuggling in, I went back to sleep and prayed I wouldn't dream about being a dog.

Chapter Two

 

 

A sense of well-being filled me as I woke and stretched, and I smiled at the sunshine peeking through the open sliver of fabric between the curtains. One of my feet seemed to be really cold, and frowning, I looked down at where it poked through a hole in the flannel blanket. Pulling my foot free, I took another look at the blanket next to the hole and saw there were three other long slashes.

Had I done that with my toes?

Leaning down, I ran a finger across the tops of my toenails. They were pretty sharp, and I guessed I was way past due for a pedicure, although I wasn't sure how they could have slashed the blanket. Still, it was the only explanation that made sense.

Dizzy jumped down from the couch and wagged her tail as she looked up at me and yipped her good mornings. Scratching her fondly behind her left ear, I rose from the couch and headed toward the kitchen. I was famished.

Opening the refrigerator, I pondered its contents thoughtfully. “Well, it looks like eggs and toast, since we don't have any breakfast meats.”

Dizzy danced around my feet enthusiastically. She'd already made her morning trip to the litter box. In the morning I was always profoundly grateful I'd trained her to use the box, though my friends and family thought it ridiculous.

My basic philosophy on the matter was if PetSmart sells it, I could use it. I still took Dizabell on walks and to the dog park; the box was for emergencies and in my book, mornings constitute an emergency.

These were the extent of my thoughts as I made six pieces of toast slathered liberally with butter and grape jelly and scrambled six eggs with cheddar cheese. I justified the amount of food by the fact that I intended to share some with Dizzy and the fact that I was again that hungry.

I filled my plate and scraped a little egg into Dizzy's bowl before sitting down to eat my food. She quickly gobbled down her two fluffs of egg and looked at me expectantly.

A look I pointedly ignored as I rapidly consumed everything on my plate. “Sorry, Dizzy, maybe next time.”

Cleaning up the kitchen was a quick job as I kept it neat and only had to deal with the dishes I'd just used. Of course, I chose to overlook the smudged soot on the ceiling from my adventures the night before.

I glanced at the grinning Sylvester clock hanging on the wall of the kitchen; it read seven-thirty so it was early yet. I had time for a leisurely shower before work. It was Monday and I didn't have to be in until nine.

Humming, I climbed into the shower and enjoyed the hot spray of the water beating down on my body, steam rising all around me.

Grabbing my gardenia shower gel, I popped it open and frowned. The smell was so strong, it actually seemed to burn my nostrils. Quickly closing the lid, I inhaled deeply of the moist air around me to soothe the irritated lining of my nose.

“That's strange; I've always loved that scent,” I shrugged and reached for the unscented bar of Dove that I usually reserved to wash my face. It would have to do.

The morning ritual that I generally loved dampened somewhat by the loss of my favorite shower gel, I quickly finished my shower and climbed out.

Disappointingly, I experienced similar problems with both my lotion and perfume. The scents of both, once so enjoyable, seemed suddenly too strong and alien.

I sighed as I wiped the moisture from the mirror to do my makeup. Another shock awaited me as I looked into my own eyes. A long, thick black hair grew straight out from the end of my nose.

“Gross!” I was horrified.

I made a quick search of the medicine cabinet for some tweezers, then plucked the offending hair out. “
Owwwwwwwwwwww!
Son of a biscuit eater!” I yelled, hopping around the bathroom as I rubbed the end of my nose where the hair had been.

Grumbling to myself, I went to my room to dress; it would be a miracle if my size twenty-fours still buttoned over my stomach after my nighttime McDonald's raid and my morning egg fest.

Oddly enough, when I went to button my pants, they were actually very loose and almost too droopy in the rear to wear. I didn't have time to search for a smaller pair of pants. All of my smaller clothes had been relegated to a trunk at the top of the closet so I wouldn't see them and sink into a desolate sea of despondency and despair.

A large knee-length sweater seemed to be the key and wouldn't look too strange on a brisk October day.

Once dressed, deciding to forgo the makeup altogether, I just pulled my hair into a long ponytail and headed out the door with my purse. “Be good, Dizzy,” I called to her where she sat on the back of the couch woefully watching my departure.

The day just seemed to be getting stranger and stranger. Hopefully things would improve once I got to work.

 

* * *

 

The hopes that my day would improve at work were quickly dashed. Simone Davies, my least favorite coworker, was in my face almost immediately.

“Did you finish the Peterson presentation? John is waiting on it,” Simone said haughtily as she dogged my heels all the way into my office.

“I finished it on Friday.” I barely glanced at her as I sat down at my desk and began thumbing through my messages. One of the messages was marked urgent from someone named Tera Beker. The name wasn't familiar at all and the area that usually explained what the message was regarding just said personal. I decided it must be a bill collector, not that I remembered owing anyone money.

Simone plunked one extremely bony hip down on my desk. “But darling, that was returned to your box for revisions.”

I glanced pointedly from the bony hip placed artfully on the edge of my desk to Simone's equally bony face; all things considered she kind of reminded me of a praying mantis, always just waiting for the chance to bite off your head.

“Then I can assure you, the presentation isn't ready,” Rising, I walked around her to the box outside my office. I pulled out the folder holding the Peterson presentation to see what revisions were requested.

“I told John that you weren't ready for such a large account,” Simone said, adopting a world-weary expression as she sauntered out of my office past where I stood examining the file.

A low growl rose from the back of my throat before I could stop it; my hand flew to my mouth as if to hold the menacing sound back.

Simone froze and turned to look back at me with an arch of her pencil-thin brow. “Did you just growl at me?”

“Don't be ridiculous. I have some indigestion. Pardon me.” I hurried past her back into my office and quickly shut the door.

“Perhaps you should watch your diet; it certainly couldn't hurt your waistline.”

I heard the catty remark from the other side of the door and barely managed to silence the snarl that rose to my lips.

“What is wrong with me?” I asked the room at large. Last night I bit my dog and howled and today I was growling at people. My world was rapidly becoming stranger than fiction.

At least it was some consolation that I hadn't bitten Simone; somehow I felt sure there would be some ramifications for biting a coworker from the Human Resources office. Although if anyone I knew deserved to be bitten it was Simone.

My revisions to the Peterson presentation were completed in record time and I took them to my boss John's office. John Drake was a very handsome guy in a frat boy sort of way, a fact of which he was very much aware.

“Xandie, have a seat,” he invited, taking the file from me to give it a quick glance through. “This looks great; I knew I picked the right girl for this project.”

I smiled with pleasure. “Thanks.”

“Alexandria Pace, you have quite a future with this company,” John said as he walked from behind his desk to perch on the edge of it in front of where I sat. He studied me closely. “There's something different about you today, I can't quite put my finger on it.”

I blinked as I thought of my stodgy outfit and total lack of makeup; the only other difference I could think of was that I wasn't wearing my regular perfume or lotion. Did I stink?

“You're a beautiful woman, Xandie, I was thinking maybe we could discuss your future over lunch.”

My jaw almost dropped to the floor; my gorgeous and urbane boss, who generally didn't even notice I was a girl, was coming on to me!

“I… I'm sorry, I have a previous lunch engagement.” Getting noticed by the playboy CEO of the company had not boded well for any of the women I worked with who dated him previously. All of them had ended up looking for another job once he was done with them.

He leaned forward, way too far into my personal space bubble for my peace of mind and ran one long finger down my cheek. My eyes widened in surprise.

“You know, Xandie, I don't know how I missed those gorgeous big green eyes of yours.”

I stood, backing around the chair and away from John as quickly as I could. “Um, I really need to go.”

John was quick on his feet; the distance between us was closed almost immediately and he wrapped his arms around me and jerked me against him. “I've really never been into more curvy women but somehow you're different.”

What an idiot! Did he really think calling me fat was going to make me his for the taking?

“John, I'm trying to be polite and say no thank you, but you seem to be missing the signals.” There, that was a very nice way to gently let someone down.

“The only signals I'm getting from you, baby, are red hot. Do I need to remind you that I'm your boss?” he asked as he leaned in and kissed my neck.

This time I didn't even attempt to stop the growl that rumbled up from the back of my throat. I accompanied it with a less than gentle shove.

Apparently I was a lot stronger than I realized because John flew backwards away from me, knocked over the chair, and then slid across his desk before hitting the floor.

My surprise only gave me momentary pause though; I glared across to where he was trying to get up on his knees while holding the edge of the desk for balance with a look of stunned disbelief on his face.

“Consider that my resignation,” I said as I walked out of his office.

Dang, this had been a good job, and I sure wasn't going to be getting a reference after throwing my boss across the room. But it was the principle of things. Oh, well, at least I had a good nest egg in savings.

“John!” I heard Simone exclaim from behind me; they deserved each other. A shark and a praying mantis; hopefully she would bite his head off shortly after mating.

It only took a few minutes to gather everything of importance from my office and I was on my way out.

“Xandie! Tera Beker is on the phone for you again,” Madge, the secretary, tried to stop me on the way out the door.

“I'm afraid I don't work here anymore, so Ms. Beker is someone else's problem.”

As far as a parting shot goes it wasn't great, but after the strange day, it was all I had left.

Chapter Three

 

 

Finding yourself without a job at ten o'clock on a Monday really opens up the possibilities for the rest of the week. Of course the only thing I wanted to do at that moment was get something to eat.

I knew there was no way whatever I had in my cabinets was going to be able to keep up with my newfound appetite, so a trip to the grocery store was in order.

I pulled through the drive-through at McDonald's on the way to the store for a little snack. The idea of going straight to the store without eating something first to dampen the overwhelming feeling of hunger seemed like a bad idea.

Visions of me taking the deli hostage and eating all the luncheon meats filled my head. I even knew I'd start with the roast beef and then work my way through the poultry selections. I shook my head to clear it of thoughts of giant hunks of meat; it was really way too easy to see this particular vision coming true.

At McDonald's I fortified myself with three sausage egg McMuffins, two bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits, and some pancakes. All of which was gone by the time I pulled into my parking spot at the grocery store. Hunger temporarily abated, I was ready to shop for food without incident.

At least I hoped so.

The store itself seemed like a whole new world to me, filled with a smorgasbord of smells and sounds. The smells were so rich I could almost taste them and my mouth began to salivate.