Jaemus watched the woman walk away then sniffed the air she’d occupied. He’d never smelled anything so… so enchanting. An intoxicating blend of mint and sunshine. He hadn’t planned on interacting with any people when he’d left the sanctuary to go for a run in the woods. The confines of Brandy’s log home were no longer tolerable. Between his brother trying to convince him that life as a werewolf could be wonderful, Brandy encouraging him to forgive Reardon, Dylan looking at him as if he wanted to ask more questions but was afraid to, and Meredith offering food every time she crossed his path, he’d had to get out of there. Just for a little while.

Or forever.

It was hard work to be mad at Reardon, especially when he was being so hospitable. His brother had let him sleep for two days without interruption or judgment. Jaemus couldn’t remember a time when Reardon had let him be so inactive. When they’d been warriors, Reardon had always insisted on early rising. Conquering was often best achieved first thing in the morning. The fact that Reardon hadn’t disturbed him while he slept emphasized the changes that had happened in his brother since being banished.

Reardon was less selfish. Brandy and her son had helped him reinvent himself, and now they were all trying to do the same to Jaemus.

Who wouldn’t have needed reinvention if it weren’t for Reardon in the first place.

Standing in the woods now, caught between man and wolf form—in wolfman form— Jaemus considered his options. He could run back to the sanctuary and continue to let his brother and his new family coerce him into forgiveness. He could let them suffocate him. Or… he could follow this woman—this beautiful woman—to her… trading post? Had that been what she’d called it? He had no idea what she was trading at this post, but she’d also used the word hired, and that was a word he definitely knew. He’d spent most of his life being hired to fight battles. If she had battles that needed fighting, he certainly could do that.

And if she rewarded him for his services, he could be free of his brother, find his own place, do something worthy as Flidae had instructed them all to do and maybe, just maybe, he could get back to Ireland.

Nodding his wolfish head, Jaemus ran back to where he’d stashed his borrowed clothes. He shifted back to human and pulled on the stiff pants Reardon had said were called jeans and a gray tunic, or T-shirt as Brandy had named it. He shoved his feet into black boots and raked his hands through his hair, hoping he looked civilized.

Although maybe that didn’t matter. This woman hadn’t hesitated to talk to him in wolfman form. She’d even touched his forearm. Had she seen such a beast before? Was she familiar with his situation? Was she not afraid?

Only one way to find out.

He headed in the direction she’d gone and soon found himself at the door of a building with a sign out front that read Maple Ridge Trading Post. Another sign in the window said Little Red and the Wolfman Show, every afternoon at 1 p.m. Tickets available inside.

Wolfman Show? Was that what that encounter with the woman in the red hooded cape and the man wielding the ax was about? A show? In the middle of the woods? He’d seen the people watching, screaming, and cheering, but the human part of his mind had retreated in order to let the wolfman run free. He’d chased the woman and man around the cleared area for the sport of it. They’d made good prey targets. If he were to accept these new wild parts of himself, he had to get in touch with this wolf side, didn’t he?

But a show? This was the job the pretty woman wanted to offer him? To run around and scare villagers? He could do that. Gods, he’d scared villagers as a warrior. Fur, fangs, and claws would only make the job that much easier.

Jaemus pushed the door open and surveyed the interior of the building. A few people wandered about, talking excitedly about The Wolfman Show—about him—as they picked up various items on display. He recognized candles, some furniture pieces, and quilts hanging on a wall, but many of the baubles were foreign to him. Items from the future he didn’t understand.

A ringing to his left made him whip his head in that direction. Two people stood on one side of a counter while a boy stabbed his fingers on a frame of some kind. Every stab made that ringing sound and paper and coins exchanged hands. That paper and coins didn’t look like the treasures Jaemus was accustomed to, but he quickly understood the meaning was the same.

Riches.

Riches he could have if he agreed to be a wolfman in a public display.

“Hello!”

Jaemus shifted his gaze away from the people exchanging riches and focused on the woman in front of him—the one who’d offered to hire him.

“Would you like to step into my office, Mister…” She raised dark eyebrows over pale green eyes. Eyes like spring grass in Ireland.

“Jaemus McAlator.” He took the hand she offered him and kissed the back of it.

Her cheeks instantly reddened and her other hand went to her throat. “Oh.” The word came out as a breathy whisper that sent a ripple through Jaemus’s body. “Nice accent.” Her brows furrowed. “McAlator. Are you related to Brandy’s fiancé, Reardon?”

Even here my brother is legendary. Of course.

“Aye. He’s my brother.”

“And you’ve come to visit him?” She glanced down to her hand which Jaemus still held.

He released it and cleared his throat. “Aye. For a time.” Until I can get back to Ireland.

“So you won’t be staying in Canville permanently?” Her shoulders sank a little, her lovely mouth turning down at the corners.

“That hasn’t been determined as of yet.” He folded his arms across his chest and watched as her gaze combed over his biceps. Taking in a deep breath, he nearly choked on the arousal coming off her. He’d smelled the desire between Brandy and Reardon, but he hadn’t been aware he’d be able to tell immediately if someone was attracted to him. He had to work hard to keep a grin off his lips.

“I suppose we’ll take you for as long as we can have you. That crowd—small as it was—loved you out there.” She pointed to the few people in the trading post. “Every one of them came into the post after the show, talking about you, buying stuff. I didn’t even have to do the fifty percent off sale I was thinking about doing to get them to come in here.”

Her gorgeous eyes sparkled, and if they didn’t sit somewhere soon, she’d be able to tell how aroused he was as well.

“You mentioned hiring me? Might we discuss that?” he asked.

“Sure. Right.” She turned around, giving Jaemus a prime view of her sweet ass, swaying beneath her long skirt. “This way.”

She led him to a small room at the back of the trading post and motioned for him to sit at a chair in front of a tidy desk. Taking the seat behind the desk, she rifled through some papers, mumbling to herself.

Jaemus took the opportunity to study her. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was curly and soft about her angular face, streaks of red shimmering in the lighting from overhead. The tunic she wore showcased her breasts which he was certain were perfect and touchable. A turquoise leaf on a long silver chain rested between those lovely breasts and his hands itched to explore all of that.

He’d been with many women during their travels as warriors. It hadn’t been hard to find a willing partner when his name was associated with victory and slaying enemies and gathering riches. How hard would it be to bed this woman before him now? From the continued fragrance of her arousal, not very hard at all.

Again, he had to contain his grin.

“Is this you?” He pointed to the name carved onto a wooden rectangle sitting atop the desk.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” She rolled those pale green eyes heavenward and smiled, turning her face into that of a goddess. “I’m Nika Skarvinski, owner of Maple Ridge Trading Post.”

What is it with you McAlators? Flidae’s voice rang out inside his head. She is human. Not a goddess.

But surely her beauty is comparable.

A slicing pain through his skull temporarily blinded him. He suppressed the groan threatening to escape his throat and adjusted in his seat.

Do you see things my way now, warrior wolf?

Aye.

The ache vanished and Jaemus blinked his eyes back into focus. No more thinking of this woman as a goddess. Ever.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Nika Skarvinski.”

“Likewise.” She shook her head, making those curls bounce around her face. “Actually, it’s more than nice. You are going to save my ass if you take the Wolfman job.” She clicked something in her hand as she smoothed the papers she’d sorted through on her desk. “You are going to take the job, aren’t you?”

“What is the job exactly?”

“It’s exactly what you did out there today. You’re lucky because Wolfman doesn’t have any speaking lines. He’s more about running wild and getting the audience hyped, which you did perfectly. And your costume was insane. Did you make it?”

No, my brother did. “Aye. That’s the look you want for your Wolfman?”

“Definitely. It’s better than my previous Wolfman, and he used to draw in a good-sized crowd.”

“What happened to your previous Wolfman?”

At this question, Nika’s gaze dropped to the item she kept clicking in her hand. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and the clicking was all that filled the small room.

Finally, Jaemus could take it no more. He reached across the desk and covered her hand with his. He was immediately struck by how small her hand was under his massive one. He also couldn’t ignore the jolt that shot up his arm when he touched her. Shot up his arm through his chest then instantly southward.

Nika flattened her hand and dropped the slender clicking stick. “Sorry. I click my pen when I get nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “I… uhh… don’t know exactly.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m not nervous. Maybe I’m excited. I mean, I was about to sell my trading post—one that my father built—to a real jackass because I didn’t have any other options. You, however, have given me an option.”

Nika quickly explained that her previous Wolfman had gotten arrested for dealing drugs. Jaemus didn’t quite understand what that meant, but knew it meant that man could no longer do the Wolfman job. She also told him that without a successful show she couldn’t make enough money to keep her post open.

And keeping that post open was important to her. He could tell in the way she’d mentioned her father, her tato. Though the man had passed, the shop kept him alive for Nika. Having no idea who his own father was, Jaemus could appreciate her longing. So many nights he’d stayed awake on his uncomfortable cot at his mother’s home wondering what his father was like. Then Reardon had met his, and Jaemus was frightened his father might be a werewolf too. He didn’t want that. Didn’t want to know that a beast was living inside him, waiting to burst out.

But I got that anyway.

“So what do you say? Will you take the job, Mr. McAlator?” Nika raised hopeful eyebrows.

Jaemus could hear that she was holding her breath. Taking this job would save her. Would be something worthy. Would be his ticket home.

“Aye. I’ll take it.”

Nika popped up from her seat and ran around to his side of the desk. When she tossed herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing, Jaemus was certain he’d just accepted much more than a job.

****

Let go of him. Stop touching him. What the hell are you doing? Oh-my-God, release him.

Nika had lost control of her arms. They wouldn’t let Mr. McAlator go. Her joy over him accepting the Wolfman job was so abundant and potent she couldn’t stop hugging him.

Of course the fact that his shoulders were broad in her arms, his beard scraped lightly against her cheek, and he smelled like a midnight run through the summer woods didn’t help matters. At all.

When his muscled arms came around her body, she sighed. She actually sighed. Out loud. For him to hear.

I need to dig a hole, climb inside, and bury myself. Because she was going to die of embarrassment.

But still, she didn’t let him go.

And he didn’t let her go.

They stayed in the embrace for another five count before Nika found the strength to release her hold on him and take a step back. His arms slowly dropped from around her, his fingers trailing down her bare arms as he let her go. Goosebump Central. Yikes. If his fingers on her arms caused sensations like that, what would… oh, don’t go there.

Because she had a trading post and a father’s memory to save. Not a man to bed. Nope.

“Can you start tomorrow, Mr. McAlator?” she asked, her voice raspy and needy and maybe desperate. Ugh. Pull yourself together, Nika Skarvinski. Now.

“Jaemus. Call me Jaemus.”

“Jaemus.” A shiver rolled through her as his name slid off her lips. She cleared her throat and blinked at the papers on her desk. “Okay, then. Let’s get these filled out.” She turned the application and hiring forms around so they faced Jaemus and set the pen atop them.

He leaned forward and Nika took a minute to watch the way his chin-length blond hair fell loose from behind his ears and hung about his strong cheekbones. Golden brown eyes scanned the forms and he pursed full lips, lips that looked quite capable of doing things to her. Splendid things. Make-her-scream-his-name things. His short beard framed those incredible lips and covered his square jaw perfectly save for one line where no hair grew. On closer inspection, Nika saw there was a scar there.

I’ve scored a Badass Irish Wolfman. She wanted to hug him again, but she clamped her hands on the edge of her desk and told herself to stay.

When Jaemus picked up the forms with his big man hand and frowned, Nika asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I’ll fill these out and bring them back with me tomorrow when I start. Would that be agreeable to you?”

Agreeable to me? Who talked like that? “Uh, sure. That’s fine.” What did she care when he filled out the forms? As long as he showed up in that marvelous costume and pulled the crowd in like he did today, she didn’t care about anything else.

“The show is at one o’clock, aye?” He stood and Nika let her gaze travel from his knees, slowly up to his hips, over his abs and chest behind that T-shirt, to his shoulders, beard, and finally to those maple syrup-colored eyes.

“One o’clock, yes.” Nika got up too. “Can I introduce you to Carrie and Zavier, my teenaged super staff?” She wasn’t quite ready for him to take his hotness out of her post yet.

He nodded and followed her out of her office. They found Carrie at the register cashing out some customers. Real customers! Zavier was explaining the beeswax candle-making process to a little girl and what appeared to be her grandparents.

Live people. In her trading post. Browsing. Buying things. Once word got out that a new Wolfman had been hired—a sexy new Wolfman—things would only get better.

With a new pep in her step, Nika led Jaemus to Carrie who had finished up with her customers.

“This him?” Carrie asked before Nika could do a proper introduction. “Hi, I’m Carrie Pine. Dude, you rocked it out there.” She smiled at him then winked at Nika, which was total girl code for Oh-my-God, he’s beautiful. Nika couldn’t dispute the kid’s observation.

“Thank you. Jaemus McAlator.” He took Carrie’s hand and kissed the back of it as he had Nika’s, though he didn’t hold on to Carrie’s hand as long as he had Nika’s.

“An Irish Wolfman, ohhhh.” Carrie’s blue eyes widened. “We need a video ad, Nika. Pronto.”

“I thought of that too.” Nika turned to Jaemus. “Maybe, if you don’t have to rush off after the show tomorrow, you could work with Carrie on an advertisement to get people to come on out and stare at you. I mean… see you. Would that work?”

“Aye.” He hooked his hair behind his left ear and something tingled down low in Nika’s belly. A let-me-play-with-that-hair-hotstuff tingle.

“Carrie, can you ring up these folks?” Zavier asked, his green eyes immediately giving Jaemus a clear once-over. He stuck out his hand for a shake and had to look up to meet Jaemus’s gaze. Zavier wasn’t a short kid, but Jaemus towered over him at probably 6’3”, Nika figured, and he was twice as wide as the teenager. “Zavier Russo.” What his mouth didn’t say, his stance did. Carrie is mine. Take your tall, manly sexiness elsewhere. I beg you.

As Carrie took care of the customers, Jaemus shook Zavier’s hand, but he looked awkward doing so. Almost as if he came from a time and place where people didn’t greet each other that way.

Silly.

“Zavier, Jaemus agreed to the Wolfman job so you’re officially off the hook,” Nika said.

“I wish I were better at it, but I don’t have the beast inside me.” Zavier shrugged.

Beside her, Jaemus bristled, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s because you’re a sweetheart, Zavier,” Carrie said.

Zavier stumbled back as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Arrow… to… my… manhood.”

Chuckling, Carrie balled up a piece of paper by the register and tossed it at Zavier. He ducked quickly and the paper ball sailed past him. “Being a sweetheart isn’t a bad thing.” She turned her gaze to Jaemus. “What do you think? Nothing wrong being a nice guy, is there?”

A slow grin cut across Jaemus’s face, and Nika had to bite her bottom lip to keep from sighing aloud. Again.

“I don’t know. I’m not known to be a nice guy.” He raised one eyebrow as he looked Nika over.

Holy shit. His eyes alone made her insides quiver, and she desperately wanted to know how not nice he could be.

“I should go,” he said, folding the application forms Nika had given him in half.

“I’ll walk you out.” Don’t go, she wanted to cry out, but managed to get a freaking grip on her runaway hormones.

Jaemus gestured for her to lead the way, so she guided him to the front door and stepped outside with him.

“So how did you make your costume?”

He shook his head. “Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t give away all my secrets, sprite. There would be no fun in that.” He walked away while Nika just about melted on the sidewalk. Sprite? Should she have been insulted by that? Because she couldn’t be insulted by a man with an ass like his. A man shouldn’t have a behind that filled out a pair of jeans so perfectly. Damn.

“You’ll give me all your secrets,” she called out before she could think about what she was saying. Was she flirting? Is that what she was doing? God, she hoped it hadn’t come off as rusty as hell. Flirting wasn’t something she’d done with any real success since high school. 

Jaemus stopped short and turned back to her, the left corner of his mouth turned up slightly. Nika had a crazy urge to run her fingertip along that scar cutting across his beard.

Or her tongue. Yeah, definitely her tongue.

“Is that a challenge?”

She shrugged her right shoulder. “Maybe.”

He laughed—a low, gruff sound that made her feel a little dizzy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nika Skarvinski.”

“Bye.” She waved, but he’d already turned away.

A few customers were lingering by a mini-van, and when Nika looked back at Jaemus, he wasn’t heading for a vehicle.

“Hey, Jaemus,” she called. “Where’s your car?”

He stopped again, and Nika felt her cheeks burn. Did he know she was doing whatever she could think of to keep him on the premises longer?

“I walked,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m staying with my brother and his mate at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary just on the other side of the woods there.” He gestured to the woods that bordered both the trading post and the sanctuary Nika had visited on many occasions. The Wendons were good friends of hers… and Tato’s.

So Jaemus was that close then? Good to know.

And did he call Brandy Reardon’s mate? Was that an Irish thing? Didn’t sound like one to Nika, but what did she know? She wasn’t even sure if sprite was supposed to be demeaning. The way he’d said it hadn’t sounded negative. It had sounded as if he were amused by her. That could be good. A sense of humor was attractive, right?

“Okay, then.” She rocked back on her heels, completely out of discussion topics to delay Jaemus’s departure. You’ll see him tomorrow, goofball. Nika was certain that if she had to watch this whole exchange on video she’d be mortified by her behavior. “See you tomorrow.”

Stop talking, moron. Shut the hell up.

Jaemus raised his hand, wiggling his fingers but not turning around as the trees swallowed him.

She watched until she couldn’t see him anymore then watched for a few additional minutes. Hoping for what? That he’d come crashing back through the woods, pin her up against the post’s front door, and ravage her mouth?

Sometimes she loved her vivid imagination.

“He’s gorgeous.”

Nika let out a shout and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Carrie’s voice behind her. “I suppose.” She had to clear her throat to get the words out and pull herself out of her fantasies.

Carrie snorted. “You more than suppose, Boss.” She came to stand in front of Nika. “I’ve known you for a while and I ain’t never seen your face glow like that.”

“Oh, stop it.” Nika gave Carrie a small shove as if the girl was being completely ridiculous.

Though maybe it’s me that’s being ridiculous.

She’d hired a man she knew nothing about. Well, she knew he could play Wolfman. Maybe that was all she needed to know.

As for what she wanted to know, however…