ALPHA SPEED DATING (BBW) (Rocky Mountain Shifters) (6 page)

Holy smokes, Conrad Fisher, United Kingdom royalty, was a fearless photographer. Her brain was having difficulty computing the facts. No wonder he played the game of the rich and gorgeous. Some of the images required whoever was crazy enough to be snapping them to position himself on the edge of a precipice at times. A spider monkey would have been an apt photographer in her mind, considering some of those shots, not some Adonis with a transfixing grin who gave her chest a mule kick. His dark good looks made her momentarily forget spoken language.

Suddenly her mouth went dry. Dear God, the things she’d conceptualized about him. When he lifted an eyebrow at her lack of response, her fingers found the wood of the doorframe. She gripped it to keep from falling at his feet. He combed his fingers through dark out of control hair that brushed his shoulders. His trimmed beard accentuated his chiseled facial features, framing his full lips. For a second, she actually considered whether he was even there for the speed dating party or if he had a room waiting upstairs. Panoramic images of his naked body filled her mind, and she shivered. The man was built for endurance. Textbook for hot, sweaty, shifter screaming, full throttle S-E-X.

Her face flushed at the scorching, rambling images her brain fathomed. Good thing tall, dark, and lickable didn’t have free access to her naughty imaginary trek, or she’d be more embarrassed. Conrad came over to her. He towered above her as his penetrating gaze scanned her face, surreptitiously inhaling as though sniffing out her secrets. The act made the skin all over her body riot hotter. This was beyond a regular wolf greeting, or her imagination was playing serious tricks on her.

“
Hello
?” Her inflection spiked upward, making her one-word proclamation come out sounding like a question.

Chuckling, Conrad consumed her with his amused scrutiny. “You’re a little thing, but spunky.”

Peering up at him, she had the desire to fling something back at him. Anything. “You’re remarkably tall. I bet most people come across as small in one way or another in your presence.” No.
Did she actually just say that?

“Speak your mind much?” The man smirked. “Were you sent out to the hall for causing a raucous, or were you trying to escape? A woman like you doesn’t seem suited to singles events. Tempting the lonely hearts club tonight?”

“Are you joking?” The teasing tone of his voice pricked her to the bone and signaled alarm sirens in her head. Her wolf instincts surfaced, where flight won out over fight.
Abort
blared loudly along her nerve endings. She pressed back against the wall, willing herself to disappear.

“Not exactly how I want to come across to a woman like you.”

His nearness tied a knot in her tongue. “I take it you’re here for the party?” she choked out.

“Is there any other reason for a visit tonight?”      

Oh, Jesus. His question was either a flagrant joke or…he didn’t know about upstairs. Her brain finally reconnected. “The restaurant. Some people wander down here out of curiosity.”

“I won’t lie. You’ve got me a little more than intrigued. Have you been out here for long?” He lifted his gaze, peering over her head into the bar, then refocused on her.

She felt herself coming undone from the heat pooling in his eyes. Sonya’s advice echoed in her head:
When in doubt, fake it
.

Mari fought to keep her gaze level with his. A shifter like this guy routinely unraveled women on a daily basis. This wasn’t personal. It was his persona. All masculine seduction rolled up in a hot package.

“My name is Mari and I’m in charge of the
body
.” She immediately shuddered. “I mean,
door
.” Mari extended her hand to him, doing a jackass job of pretending to be cool and collected.

“Sensational,” he murmured.

“Nice to meet you.” Forcing herself to stand taller, she lifted her chin a notch, and slung her shoulders back. Grasping his large hand, she felt an electrical shock stronger than a short-circuited defibrillator.

“Mari,” he repeated. His pupils dilated. He must have felt her jolt. “Pleasure. Conrad Fisher. I’m a guest. A friend is here tonight and put me on the list. Louis Clermont.”

Slowly and seductively his gaze slid from her face, traveling down her neck and landing on her chest. She swallowed hard, aware of the low cut of her décolletage. His warm breath swept over the tops of her exposed breasts, and she refrained from covering herself under his lingering perusal of her body.

Hotter and hotter she felt her skin blaze. “Excuse me,” she said, and walked over the table where her tablet lay and busied herself looking for his name on the guest list. No wonder she hadn’t seen it. Mr. Clermont had listed him as an unnamed guest. “Mr. Fisher. I have you right here.”

The reconnection of their gazes was an immediate thunderbolt to her senses. Conrad’s smile stretched a little broader. His dark gaze—steady and sure. Evidence that along with photography, the man had on-the-job experience in social endeavors. Again, the pinch of familiarity bubbled up from the recesses of her memory.

Mari doubted a woman in his sights ever said no to any of his invitations. Coffee to whatever. Speed dating would be akin to shooting fish in a barrel, and Conrad Fisher should come with a warning sign or disclaimer pinned right next to his name.

“Here, you’ll need a name tag for your
chest
—shirt!” Jeez, could she be any more transparent?

She fumbled with her clipboard, pulling out a name tag. Her
faux pas
had a strength, beckoning her to take a closer look at his incredible pecs as he bent over the table and wrote his name. Her gaze skimmed the outline of his striking torso that filled out his shirt in muscular peaks and valleys. His scintillating scent wreaked havoc on her she-wolf senses. A drug that had her drooling and her canines sharpening. What in God’s name had come over her? Something playful in Conrad’s commanding nature sparked a flame under her skin. Just as Sonya had said, edgy alpha shifters were a total turn on.

She met his powerful gaze. “Would you like a drink or a glass of punch? Special rum recipe.”

His pupils dilated slightly as his stare intensified. “I will if you join me.”

“Roll out the red carpet,” a booming voice erupted in back of her. “The Earl of Essex. Damn, Conrad did you get lost on purpose? Travel around the globe in a beeline, and one party has you detouring.”

Slinking lower in her stacked heels, she moved aside, expecting Conrad to leave and join his friend. She hugged her clipboard, and forced a smile to remain plastered on her face.

“Louis, don’t exaggerate.” Conrad didn’t move an inch. He stayed firmly planted next to her. Did she really hear him just sigh? He turned to face her. “Are you coming inside?”

“God yes. Stop loitering in the hallway. I’ve found someone I want you to meet,” Mr. Clermont said.

The sound of his friend’s voice snapped her out of her pheromone induced haze. Conrad was a man with dangerous levels of sex appeal. She’d better get her game on fast. This was why she manned a door instead of following a lead or investigating her next story.

Mari refused to come further undone by one smooth talking alpha shifter. She forced herself to sound unaffected. “Ah, yes. I think you’re the last to arrive. We’re almost set to begin. Please, there’s food and, as I mentioned, drinks. Enjoy yourself, Earl.”

“Don’t.” His face turned a shade of serious, far different from what she’d seen. Her she-wolf instincts reacted to the pitch of Conrad’s voice. Instead of cowering, an electrical charge unfurled inside her, prompting her desire to push back.

She shook her head. “What?” she asked, squarely facing him.

“No need to use pretentious titles. They’re meaningless. Call me Conrad. Okay?” His flawless gaze boldly raked over her. “Louis, this is Mari, the person in charge of
my person
tonight. Have you met before?”

Her fingers curled around her clipboard. Conrad’s cavalier attitude roused her desire to contradict him. He winked into her blushing face, then turned toward the man who stood in the doorway. Oh, he thought this amusing. Right, she reminded herself. This was a bar and here was a smooth playboy. Any idiot, with or without a press pass, could see the train wreck ending.

Mari shifted her focus to Louis Clermont. He was equally tall but with a slight built. Pale skin, curling blond hair, and a boyishly handsome face. She recalled greeting him earlier and his opaque reference to his friend arriving late.

“A delight, Mari. Can’t say we’ve crossed paths beyond check-in tonight.”

“Good evening, Mr. Clermont,” she said, wearing a tight smile. “Did you enjoy the dinner?”

“Lip-smacking. Conrad, even you would appreciate the meal. It isn’t your beanie weenie energy bar fare, but thankfully, what is?” Louis waved his hand, pretending to be exasperated.

A woman ambled up, dressed in a skimpy nurse costume, and a sip away from an empty martini glass. She glanced at Mari with a raised brow followed by a once-over before she wedged closer to Conrad. “Louis, this can’t be your mysterious friend. I know you…Conrad Fisher?”

“Ah, so you’ve met.” Louis smiled broadly. “Come on, Conrad, we’ve a table in the back. Grab a drink. Looks like Anita is running low on fuel. Show Conrad the bar, and you two can reacquaint yourselves.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced, but we do have a common interest. There’s a charity ball coming up. I’m going. Isn’t that a function run by—”

Conrad interrupted the woman. “Yes. I’ll meet you and Louis inside.” Gesturing in her direction, he finished, “Mari was answering some of my questions.”

Mari watched an odd silent communication pass between Conrad and Louis. Definitely, these two were a tag team of sorts and she didn’t appreciate this type of game involving the rich, famous, and single.

“Anita, to the bar.” Louis steered her back toward the entrance, but not before the nurse ran her hand over Conrad’s arm.

“Do hurry,” the nurse purred. “We have so much to discuss.”

He didn’t budge as he glanced down at his arm, a muscle clicking along his jaw. After his friends departed he shook his head. Conrad glanced at her with his brows drawn. When their gazes reconnected, her heart sprinted against her will.

“Come sit with me,” he said. “Let’s talk over a drink.”

“No,” she replied, staring warily back at him and struggling to define why he had this wrecking ball force over her will. “I’ve a few things to tidy up here. You go. I’ll catch up.”

His proposition would have sounded wholly appealing if there wasn’t a rapidly forming line of women wishing to lay hands on him. He might not be a cheater, but he was a playboy. A gorgeous problem she’d already sampled and gotten burned over. Only a nitwit would come back for a second serving of Conrad Fisher. Well, pity the fool but it wasn’t her. Not tonight.

“Then I’ll stay and wait.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Mari exhaled, thinking fast. She inched away from him, but he was unrelenting and stepped closer than before. “I can’t,” she said.

“Give me a chance.” He pressed his lips into a line.

Exasperated, she glared up at him and hissed, “Look, I can’t just abandon my post. Obviously, you have fans waiting.”

“I expect you to make good on your promise.”

All of sudden Anita reappeared next to Conrad with Louis in tow. The space at the door where she and Conrad stood was too crowded for words. The woman curled a set of long fingers, tipped by red nails, around Conrad’s forearm.

Mari rolled her eyes at him. “Seems like you are too darn popular for your own good. Should I take a number?”

“Not yet, Lou. We’re one short,” Anita whined. “I’m not leaving without Conrad. I think I’ve found my new ball escort.”

He stared at Mari. “You haven’t seen the last of me,” he whispered before ducking inside with the woman who resembled a new appendage to his body.

He was ready to kick
Lou’s
arse for this unplanned introduction. Anita was past the point of tipsy, stumbling as she walked. He turned back to glance at Mari, peeling off Anita’s fingers. The tempting siren had disappeared from the entrance. He stopped, even though Anita yanked on his arm. Where in blue blazes did Mari go? And where in the hell did Louis run off, leaving him to deal with this inebriated woman? Christ, he wouldn’t have veered from the doorway until Anita almost spilled the beans about his infamous family. He didn’t want to think about his father or the fiasco in play. One faultless night was all he asked for. God, he desired nothing more than to find Mari and a quiet corner and get to know her…better.

Something about her stirred his curiosity, and that was rare. Her tempting curves had his mouth watering and his palms itching, not to mention his other body parts that wanted in on the action. With her fresh mouth and flashing eyes, she was the kind of woman who could take what he had to give and more. Didn’t look the sort to avoid sex because it got hot and sweaty or it might mess up her hair. Mari’s lush curves invited him to imagine all sorts of sexy scenarios.

“Let’s go. The bar isn’t going to come find us,” Anita said, and then jerked his arm.