Between Two Wolves and a Hard Place Read Online Free PDF

asshole, then maybe you should find another alpha to pack with."
    Drake looks down into my eyes. Searches my soul, then shakes his head. "You don't mean that. But the fact that you're saying it proves my point." He raises his hand to forestall any cutting comment I can make. "I'm going to head out. We'll talk in the morning."
    "Fine," I say, looking down and away. I feel wretched. How could I have said that? I look over to Leena. She's watching me. Waiting for me. I know how tonight will end. I don't know what she'll ask me to do to her, but I know it will arouse me beyond measure, and make me feel completely hollow afterwards.
    Drake squeezes my shoulder. "I'm worried about you, brother. I'll see you tomorrow."
    "Yeah," I say quietly. "Tomorrow."
    Drake sighs and heads out. I watch him go, and then head back to our table. To Leena. Who is smiling that dangerous sultry smile of hers.
    "Drake get tired?"
    "Something like that," I say, sitting down.
    "And you? Are you getting tired?"
    I stare into her dark, smoky eyes. I shake my head, and she leans forward, exposing her cleavage. Did she unbutton her shirt even further? "Oh, good." She places her cool hand over my own. "The night is young, Dean. Here. Let me get you another drink."
     

Chapter 5
     
     
     
    I wake the next morning to the smell of my mother's baking. It fills our house like a warm hug, and I immediately sit up, foregoing my usual lazy stretch. I sniff. Bread. I sniff again. A nutty kind of bread. Something fortifying and nutritious. That means my mother's worried. She'll be pushing food on me all day until I somehow convince her I'm fine. I can't help but smile. My mother's cooking acts like a code that only my dad and I can fully decipher. I know that she's sad and missing my brother when she cooks chicken stroganoff. That she's frustrated when she tackles a complex Indian dish. That she's at peace when she makes her vegetable soup.
    I rise, shower, and get dressed in an old Duran Duran t-shirt and jeans. I was curvy back in high school, and I'm relieved to see I still fit into my old outfits. The jeans are a little tight, but what the heck. I can close the button, and that's what matters.
    Downstairs, my dad's reading the newspaper at the kitchen counter, and my mother is stirring something in one of her tall steel pots. I walk up to her from behind and cover her eyes, grinning like a little girl.
    "Guess who?"
    My mother stiffens in surprise, and then I can feel her smile. "The sugar plum fairy."
    This is a game as old as time. I almost feel silly playing it. I used to giggle like crazy when I was little. Now it makes me smile with nostalgia. "Nope."
    "The garbage man."
    "Hey!" I drop my hands and snatch up the kitchen towel, which I use to swat playfully at my mother. "I just showered!"
    She turns, beaming, but I can see the concern in her eyes. "You did? What did you use as shampoo?" Before I can protest further she laughs and hugs me tight. I sigh and squeeze her. For a moment we just stand there, then she pulls back. "Your dad told me you're in a spot."
    "Yeah." I break eye contact and move over to the coffeepot and pour myself a mug. "You could say that."
    My father never condemns anybody. My mother is a different story. I wait, stirring a little sugar into my coffee, for the deluge of questions and advice, but instead I just hear my mother sigh. I turn around in surprise. "What? No comments?"
    My mother gives me a sad smile and shakes her head. "You're a grown woman, Kiera. It's not for me to tell you off any more. Even if I did try to warn you about that Marv." She immediately raises her hands, forestalling my response. "No, I'm going to keep quiet. Your father told me that you're going to speak to Mr. Hanscomb this morning. I think that's a marvelous idea. Fraud is fraud. With a little luck, Marv will go to jail and everything will be as it should be."
    Jail. My breath catches in my throat. Do I want that for Marv? I imagine him being hauled away,