Rosko, Mandy - Mate of the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mindy was still her agent. Someone who got paid a percentage of what Shelley made. Which was why, when, if , this vacation ended she was going to do four back-to-back movies within the next twelve months.
    That was a lot more than what it sounded like.
    She’d nearly had a nervous breakdown when she found out that was the plan, and so the camping trip had been suggested. The advice had seemed good, at the time. And what was better, because Mindy had suggested it, her parents couldn’t rebuff it.
    Oh, Shelley knew Mindy had only been fearful of losing one of her bread-earners should Shelley actually have a meltdown, and she still had to actually sign the papers that would commit her to the projects, but she’d still felt the walls closing in on her.
    Movies, stars, festivals, and travel. It all sounded nice, but none of it excited her. Truthfully, Shelley would rather be behind the scenes in making the movies. She wanted to be the person who wrote the screenplays, the big finales and yearning kisses, and then watched as her creation lit up on the silver screen. Or even just novels. A writer of romantic novels.
    Shelley nearly laughed at herself for the cruel irony of it. Millions of twenty-three-year-olds were busting their humps every day to try and get where she was, and yet she complained.
    Her identity. The blessing and the curse.
    “If you know who I am, then you know I can pay you anything you want. You look like you could use the money,” she said, trying not to look around the one-room cabin with its sparse furniture.
    His jaw tightened. “I have my own money. I’m not after yours.”
    Yeah, right. Then what was he after? The image of him leaning out his truck to kiss her came to mind. She felt the press of his lips against hers, the rough beard stubble, dark despite his sandy hair, scratching her mouth and cheek, as though it were happening all over again. Despite the fact that it hadn’t been unpleasant, all the color drained from her cheeks.
    Oh God. What if he was one of those crazy woodsmen she read about in true crime novels? The kind that kidnapped female hikers and forced them to be their wives.
    “Get that thought out of your head.”
    Shelley’s head jerked up at the deep growl. His eyes flashed gold as he glared at her from across the table.
    She blinked. “What? How did you—”
    “Wasn’t hard to figure out what you were thinking,” he said, turning his eyes back to his breakfast. “I don’t like being thought of as a rapist. I’m a monster. Not a rapist.”
    Shelley snorted and went back to her breakfast. “Prove it. What’s your name?”
    His head snapped up. “What?”
    She glared at him. “If you really have no plans to hurt me, then it won’t matter if I know your name.”
    That and she wanted to know the name of the man who’d kissed her so desperately outside.
    He sighed. “I guess you’ll have to know it eventually.”
    Eventually? How long did he intend to keep her chained up?
    “My name is Michael.”
    She folded her arms. “Michael what?”
    He gritted his teeth, eyes flashing again. “Hunter.”
    She grinned. Knowing his name washed away a lot of the tension inside her. Shelley held out her hand. “There, see? That wasn’t so bad.”
    Michael hesitated, looked at her hand for a second before he reached for it. His large hand took her offered one, all but dwarfed it, before shaking and releasing. A small smile of his own touched his lips.
    It made him look so cute and relaxed. “It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”
    His jaw tightened. “Michael.”
    He was sensitive about his name. Huh, maybe Mike sounded too juvenile for him or something. “How old are you?”
    “Thirty-three,” he replied.
    She nodded. Not bad, that was a good age. “Is this where you,” she tried to not look around the cabin, “normally live?”
    He chuckled darkly. “Lot of questions out of you.”
    She stiffened. “Knowing things about you would make me a little less scared, that’s