~

 

Maggie looked just how Roland felt — dazed — confused — blindsided. One little kiss to prove her wrong, to prove that she was everything to him, had turned into him practically devouring her whole.

That wasn’t good. He couldn’t rush her — wouldn’t rush her.

“I’ve never…” Maggie stumbled over her words as she lifted her hand and fanned her face with it.

“Never?” Roland almost swallowed his tongue as he rushed out that one word.

Maggie looked confused for a long moment — then she balked as she realized what he’d said. “Not — that — never – that — nooo.” She gave a slow shake of her head and looked anywhere but at him.

“Okay.” Roland nodded, he was still confused.

“Well, once,” Maggie said as she narrowed her eyes and winced.

“Once! That’s almost never,” Roland said with a low, deep rumble that stuck in the back of his throat as he considered his mate’s lack of experience.

He was a monster. He was a beast. He didn’t know if he could be as gentle as she needed him to be.

“Once isn’t never, never is never, once is once,” she said with another shrug.

“I should…” He pointed a finger back over his shoulder at the front door. His beast was still clawing within him, pushing ever forward, laying in wait just under the surface of his skin to claim her as theirs.

That couldn’t happen. Not yet.

He needed to know that he wouldn’t hurt her. He needed to be sure that he could be the man that she needed him to be.

“This is your cabin — I’m the one that should…”

“You’re staying.” Roland pointed a long thick finger at her, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a handle on his emotions. “You wanted to talk to Rayner.”

“About what?” Maggie was lost.

She could barely remember her own name after being kissed to distraction by him. The crazy thing was that she hadn’t wanted it to end. Wouldn’t mind doing that again.

“Me — us — you — mating.” Roland finally settled on a word that made sense to her. He saw it register on her face, and used that as an excuse to head out of the door.

“Right.” Maggie scowled as the man stood there on the threshold of the doorway — not in — not out — like he had a decision-making disorder. In truth, she wasn’t sure which one she was cheering for, the in or the out.

“Later,” Roland said for want of something better to say. Then he yanked the door closed behind him and slammed his forehead against the hardwood.

Roland closed his eyes and took a long, deep, calming breath; it did him absolutely no good whatsoever.

He needed Rayner.

 

~

~

~

 

“I’m sorry you said what?” Bute asked, and Rayner folded her arms and pushed out a hip, as she stared back at her boss. “She said what? Am I hearing this right?” Bute asked Dane.

“You heard me,” Rayner tossed back.

She was in no mood for Bute’s crap. The man was annoying enough when he wasn’t trying, let alone when he was, like now.

“I think I heard you — but, let me get this straight — you can’t deliver Tank or my money — is that what you’re telling me?”

Bute looked less pissed off and more satisfied that she’d failed to come through. How male of him.

“Am I not speaking English?” Rayner tossed a look at Dane, and the man smiled like he had a secret to share.

Rayner knew what that secret was — she couldn’t understand bear. Did he have to rub it in?

“That means I can come after Bowie,” Bute said, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat.

“Like you have anyone who would go after Bowie,” Rayner said with a snort of a chuckle.

“Maybe I have someone new that you don’t know about,” Bute looked … satisfied, smug.

“I’d have heard about it.”

“Well you haven’t been around much these days,” Bute tossed back.

Rayner tossed a look back over her shoulder and questioned Dane with her eyes. She couldn’t yet sense things like when people were lying their asses off, but Dane could, and he gave a slow shake of his head.

“Well, Bute, I’ll tell you this for free — if you come after Bowie then you come after me,” Rayner said.

Bute didn’t have anyone new that would dare to go after Bowie, but she didn’t need to rub salt into the wounds — the man was already down Tank’s money because she’d gone soft in the damn head, she could offer him an out and let him stand down on his own.

“Damn it, Rayner,” Bute said, as he pushed forward on his chair and slammed his palms down on the desk in front of him.

“What can I tell you — the man left town — I’m not going to chase all over the country looking for him,” Rayner said with another shrug.

“Well, I want my money — from Tank — or from Bowie.”

“Well then give me someone else to chase down.” Rayner tossed up a hand. It seemed like the only logical way out of it for everyone. She heard Dane groan.

“Sure, I’ll give you the tooth fairy,” Bute’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Think you can handle that?” He sneered.

“Fine, be smug and cut your own nose off because if you can’t come up with the goods, then we’re all square,” Rayner said as she turned and took a step toward the door.

“Damn it, Rayner.” Bute slammed his palms down on the desk again. Rayner grinned at Dane before she dropped the grin and turned back toward her boss.

“Yes?” Her tone was teasing, so much so that Bute tipped his head to one side, raised one eyebrow, and snorted his contempt for her.

“Fine,” he grumbled as he reached over the side of his chair and yanked open the bottom drawer of his desk. He rifled through the paperwork inside for a file and tossed it out in front of him for her on the desktop. “Another mean one — because you seem to like those.” He shot a look over her shoulder at Dane.

“Play nice, Bute, because you know I don’t and he’s worse than I am,” Rayner said, and Bute wound his neck in. He huffed as he sat back in his chair.

“Do you think you can handle this one?” Bute offered her a look of contempt. Of course, he felt anything but. He liked Rayner, hell, she was the only one of his people that he tried to treat right.

He hated sending her after Tank. He’d been sitting by his phone waiting for a call from the police, or the hospital ever since.

“You’ll be eating those words, old man when I bring his head back on a stick for you.”

“I’m not going to hold my breath,” Bute said as he folded his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows toward his thinning hairline.

“You know, that’s what I like about you, Bute, you make it so easy to disappoint you.” Rayner snatched up the file, turned on her heels, and headed toward Dane.

“You might want to take that one with you this time as well,” Bute nodded at Dane. “Two wrongs don’t make a right — but, two shifters and one little old you isn’t right either.”

Rayner couldn’t figure out if he was talking about the guy in the folder and Dane, or Roland, who he met last time, and Dane. Either way, Rayner ignored him as she left the office with her mate in tow.

“One more chance, Rayner,” Bute called after her.

“I like second chances, Bute, it focuses the mind — and shows your weakness,” Rayner tossed back.

Bute might not have thought that she could hear him, but she heard him just fine as he bit out a string of curses. Rayner couldn’t help but smile.