Charmed By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

nor caring, his parents could hardly be in the same room without a fight breaking out.

      If they were human, a divorce would’ve sent them happily on their separate ways. As wolfans, a mate-claim bound them for life. Even if it was accidental, as it was in their case, the claim was irrevocable.

      “Here ya go, Slick.” Angeline slid him a glass of ice water he hadn’t ordered. One perfectly curved auburn brow arched and she looked pointedly at the womanly octopus tangling him with her tentacles.

      “Thanks, Sassy.” He gave Angeline a bug-eyed stare. She had been his friend long enough to recognize the SOS.

      Humor played on her lips and she actually looked ready to walk away without tossing him a lifeline. He squinted a dire warning.

      Angeline’s teasing gaze locked on Tristan, then dropped to the woman in his lap. “Long time no see, Deidre.”

      The name exploded in Tristan’s ears. In disbelief, he stared at the woman who had been his high-school sweetheart. Short platinum hair, steely gray eyes lined with thick black smudges, pouty lips painted dark red against a weathered canvas obscured the traces of the pretty girl he’d once dated. Tristan’s heart gave a tiny squeeze. When he’d ended the relationship with Deidre, he’d truly wanted her to find happiness. The haggard look behind the heavy makeup suggested she hadn’t.

      “What do you think?” Deidre said to Angeline as the clamor in Tristan’s ears faded. “Do we still look the same as we did in high school?”

      “Um...” Angeline’s head tilted as if picturing them then and now.

      Clenching his jaw, Tristan felt his mouth pull tight and his brow wrinkle.

      “Oh, yeah.” Angeline laughed. “Now you look exactly like I remember.”

      “Thanks,” Tristan muttered. Back then, he was an infatuated fool and believed he could beat his family legacy of high drama.

      It didn’t take long to learn that he couldn’t. When his and Deidre’s behavior began to mirror his parents’, Tristan ended the relationship before the unthinkable happened and he accidentally claimed her. Under no circumstances did he want to be in a relationship that he couldn’t escape.

      “After all this time, we’ve found each other again.” Deidre beamed. “It’s kismet.”

      “I don’t believe in that crap.” The humor faded from Angeline’s eyes.

      “Deidre,” Tristan interrupted before Angeline launched a tirade about fate and fairy tales and not so happily-ever-afters. “My leg is falling asleep, doll. Would you mind moving?” To another table? Another restaurant? Another town?

      “How about some company for supper?” Deidre stroked his jaw.

      “He’s waiting for someone,” Angeline said.

      Hoorah for the wing-girl. Tristan owed her big-time for this one.

      “Oh.” Deidre’s mouth took on an exaggerated pout. “Rain check?”

      Tristan offered a noncommittal nod.

      Deidre pressed her lips against his. He kept his lips closed instead of encouraging her kiss. Had to be a first for him.

      When she finally vacated his lap and sulked away, the tightness in Tristan’s body eased.

      “Never expected that blast from the past, did you?” Angeline dipped a napkin in the glass of ice water on her tray and handed it to him.

      “What’s this for?”

      “Wipe your mouth and cheek, unless you want to walk around branded with big red lips all night. Might scare off the real woman you’ve been waiting for.”

      “Thanks.” Tristan used the damp cloth to clean his face. “But I’m not waiting for anyone.”

      “Sure you are.” Angeline looked over her shoulder. “She’s sitting alone near the restrooms.”

      “Penelope’s just...” Exactly what was she to him? “A friend?” Possibly, if they ever got past the furtive glances across the resort lobby.

      “You and I have been friends since we were twelve.” Angeline leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. “You’ve never lit up for me the way you did for her when she walked in that door. Go get her.”

      “You know my situation.”

      “It’s your parents’ situation. Doesn’t have to be yours.”

      Unfortunately, Tristan knew differently.

      “Don’t be a jerk and leave her sitting alone.” Angeline bumped his shoulder. “She’s got that vulnerable look and there are hungry wolves on the prowl tonight. One of them might get lucky enough to eat her up.”

      The low, warning growl vibrating in his throat caught him off guard, but apparently not Angeline.

      She laughed and laughed.

      “Don’t you have work to do?” Tristan grumbled.

      “Don’t you?”

       Chapter 7

      Penelope barely heard anything over the panicked drum of her heart. She was so out of her comfort zone. How had she allowed Cassie to talk her into this?

      In the ten minutes since she’d arrived, Penelope had kept her head lowered and avoided eye contact. Some habits were hard to break.

      She picked up the menu. Her gaze skipped over the fried foods and sandwiches, and landed on the salads, but what she really wanted was that platter of chicken wings the server carted past her.

      Taking a deep breath, she glanced around the restaurant. For singles’ night, the crowd seemed relatively calm.

      Oh, she could spot the hookups, all right, but the frenzied, frantic atmosphere of the few singles’ bars she’d gone to with a friend from work was thankfully absent.

      Through the crowd, she noticed a tawny-haired man at the bar and her heart fluttered.

      Lately, her sex life had stagnated. Not that it was anything spectacular before. She’d been in a few relationships, but none of the men had rocked her world in or out of the bedroom and she really wanted to be rocked. Hard.

      Hard enough to leave her sweaty and breathless. Hard enough for the headboard to chip the paint off the walls.

      She’d settle for one good orgasm.

      Oh, she could give them to herself when she indulged in fantasy, but she’d never achieved the same result with any of her boyfriends. Tired of fantasies, Penelope slid out of her seat and made determined steps toward the bar.

      Tristan, the subject of her latest fantasies, tossed back a shot of something. If she wasn’t such a lightweight drinker, she might do the same. “Courage,” she muttered to herself.

      The closer she came to him, the more militant the butterflies in her stomach became. Maybe that was why the zip of excitement she usually felt when seeing Tristan didn’t manifest.

      Penelope tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Hi there.”

      He turned slowly. His gaze landed on her chest and lingered before sliding down the length of her body and then all the way up to her face, leaving an icky feeling on her skin.

      Not the reaction she hoped for.

      “Do I know you?” His blue-gray eyes were cold and distant, and no smile touched his tight mouth.

      “No.” Penelope forced a confident smile. “I thought you were someone else. Sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to scurry back to her table.

      “Hold on.” Steely fingers cuffed her wrist and spun her around. “You are definitely not a bother,