Willow
“Hi, Father!”
She waved cheerfully at the middle-aged looking man waiting by her desk.
Stephen Pike looked up at her and smiled. Willow returned the look as she walked up to him and gave him a big hug. He grumbled and said something about showing emotions in public, but she knew he didn’t actually care. Willow was his only child and he’d spoiled her rotten. Now, at thirty-five years of age, he was paying the price.
“Hello, Daughter. How are you today?”
Willow shrugged. “Honestly, I slept terribly last night. Couldn’t get comfortable. So I’m exhausted. What about you?” She could sense he had something to tell her, and whatever it was, it had him irritated beyond his normal levels. “Bad news?”
He shrugged. “Annoying, really. Not the end of the world, just one more thing I need to take care of that that prick Mack can’t handle on his own.”
Willow winced. She knew her father’s hatred for Mack, the regional Alpha. There were four packs in the city, and Mack called the shots for all of them, including what part of the city they could claim as their own. Letting four packs intermingle was a bad idea. Divvying up the city into turf and ordering each pack to stay on their own was a much better way to handle things.
“I see. What has he done this time?” She dropped her shoulder bag on her desk and pressed the button to wake her computer up.
“He saddled me with some reject from his own pack.”
Willow nodded. Yep, that would certainly make him pissed. She wondered just who the newcomer was, and why he was being sent here.
One of the others poked his head out through the double doors that led into the back. “Steph, we need you back here.”
Her father nodded and waved the other man off. “I’ll be right there.”
The doors closed just as swiftly as they’d opened.
“Anyway, he’s going to be here in a bit, and when he gets here, I want you to just show him right into the back. We’ll handle it from there.”
Willow just nodded. She knew what he meant by that, figuring it was unlikely she would be seeing the newcomer tomorrow morning. Or ever. Her father had a rather permanent way of dealing with things like this. Poor guy.
“I’ll do just that, Poppa,” she said, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek. “But it’s only Monday. Try not to start off the week like that, okay? It can’t be good for your stress levels.”
“Tell that to Mack then for saddling me with him.” But there was a twinkle in his eye.
“Go deal with whatever problem those idiots have created,” she said, pointing at the double doors.
“Thank you, Daughter.” With that he was gone, leaving her alone.
Willow nodded and relaxed into her seat, pulling up her email. Just because she was the boss’s daughter didn’t mean she didn’t have an actual job. The shipping company he owned was actually rather more successful than any of them had originally anticipated, and she usually had a good amount of work to get through on any given day. After a weekend, it would be even busier, especially with the holiday season getting close.
With a sigh she opened the first email, read it, and started to type out a reply. Before she was even halfway done with it, the front door opened and footsteps made their way directly to her desk. As they never received visitors of any kind, conducting all business via email or telephone, Willow knew this had to be the newcomer. Not interested in losing her train of thought, she continued to type out the email while he came to a halt in front of her desk. When she was finished she hit Send and then directed her attention to the person waiting patiently for her to acknowledge him.
The first thing she noticed was his posture. He didn’t come off as some sort of pathetic slob. His clothes—while not formal attire, because that wasn’t necessary—were clean, crisp, and looked freshly laundered. He stood up straight, without a slouch or lean. She noted his dark work boots and fitted pants. They were blue, but not jeans, instead looking to be a tougher fabric that might put up with the strains of the shipping facility better. All in all, he looked ready to work.
She frowned to herself. This wasn’t at all what her father had told her to expect. She’d expected an unshaven face, rumpled clothing, and a generally slovenly attitude. Instead the person in front of her was looking better than half the other guys who worked in the back. He exuded confidence, though something about his military-straight posture belied a lack of calm. So he was nervous. Willow had begun to think that maybe this was in fact someone else, but now she was positive it was him.
“May I help you?” she asked, finally lifting her gaze to look him in the eyes.
A set of deep brown orbs stared back at her. His eyes were set deep into his face under a powerful brow. On many she would have considered it to be a rather unintelligent look. But the eyes that were fixated upon her spoke of a highly intelligent persona, despite the muscles that were part and parcel of being a shifter.
“I was told to report here,” he said crisply, his voice deep and melodious without sounding forced.
“Your name?”
Willow was working hard to try and remain aloof. Despite her first impression of him, she knew why he was here, and what was awaiting him inside. It was unlikely that he was going to be around for very long, so no sense in getting friendly. She was normally very good at that. Most of the newcomers weren’t worth the time it took her to get their names and send them on back.
This one was different. His eyes had captured hers from the start, and they had yet to let go. She could feel her pulse quickening slightly for no discernable reason. He hadn’t done anything, so why was she getting like this? This man was supposed to be the nervous one, unsure of what he would see back there, of what awaited him. Yet he didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she realized suddenly, he was looking forward to it!
Part of her wondered if perhaps this one was going to stick around. Either way, the next little bit was going to be interesting.
“Aiden Kristoff Lee, ma’am,” he said formally. “I’m here on orders from Mack Danzig. I’m to report to Stephen.”
“Well, Mr. Lee—”
“Just Aiden, please. I’m not a mister.” He spoke gently, his request soft-spoken, and yet filled with an understanding that he would just be obeyed.
Not very likely.
“Through those doors, Mr. Lee,” she said, emphasizing the title ever so slightly, allowing frost to color her tone.
Who did he think he was? Her father was an Alpha, and one of the more respected ones out there. Well, okay, feared, but it was close enough. Did this newcomer think that just because she was human she was going to obey every subtle command a shifter tried to give? Ridiculous!
Willow knew every werewolf had some bit of Alpha in him: the ability to utter commands and have them obeyed, to simply expect obedience with little more than a look or a gesture. It wasn’t something necessarily tangible, but if you were around it long enough, it became obvious. But it took a strong Alpha to be able to control minds that were aware of it. Most humans weren’t, and thus they were easily malleable.
Willow wasn’t most humans. His attempt didn’t work on her, and it certainly wouldn’t have worked on another werewolf. She was almost insulted by it.
“Those ones?” he asked, pointing to her left. “Or those ones?”
Angry at herself for not pointing, becoming distracted by looking at his rather attractive face, she jabbed a finger to her right. “Those ones.”
Aiden smiled at her. “Thank you.”
She was caught off guard by the brilliance of his smile. It was bright enough to nearly rock her back in her seat. The genuine happiness she saw cased within it was unusual and most unexpected. Who the hell was this guy? Despite all of her best efforts, Willow found herself actually rooting for him, though she knew he didn’t stand a chance.
Her father’s men were vicious, brutal beasts. This guy seemed too nice. Still…, she thought as he walked toward the doors.
“Stay alert, Aiden. The shipping floor is a lot more dangerous than you might expect.”
The shifter came to a slow halt, his hand outstretched and placed firmly on one of the doors. He looked back over his shoulder, his cute, oblong face covered in stubble that moved as he smiled at her again. The motion played up his wide jaw and angular cheekbones even more.
Willow kept looking, and realized that she was staring. Looking down, she busied herself with something on her desk, desperately hoping that he would just go away.
“Thank you, Ms. Pike,” he said gently. “I’ll make sure I keep my eyes open.”
She heard him push open the doors. For a moment she was blasted with noise from the various machines running in the back as he moved through the second set of doors before the first closed. But then they all returned to normal and the noise died away.
It took several minutes before she was able to really focus on her next task, her mind far too distracted for her own comfort.
Just who the hell was that? And how the hell does he know who I am?