Lord of the Grrr's (12 page)

Jean

"...please let us converse in peace. Have a lovely day."

The words stung for just a moment before Jean put them out of her head. It was not the first time she had ever been told to piss off, but it hadn't been the politest way either. Something about these people was odd to her. They all obviously had wealth based on the suits, dresses, and cars outside, but none of them spoke like it. She was used to fancy events and formal speech.

Here, however, she was seeing far more evidence that the people were not from the highest strata of society. There were no butlers and servants around except for several drink servers who carried trays of wine around the room.

Stranger and stranger. I wonder who the heck these people are.

She had received word of the gala from a friend who had been passing through. There had been a big post about it in the local paper, but strangely enough, not a word of it had made its way to Seattle, where Jean resided. She wondered if perhaps this was as much of a costume party for these people as it was a formal celebration.

It wouldn't be the first time that she had been to an event like this, where people with some money dressed up and pretended to act like people with
real
money. Her mind made up, she continued her perusal of the room. Nothing stuck out, so she headed toward the food tables. It was about time she taste-tested the food here. At least that would give her something to write about. It certainly smelled delicious.

Jean saw him at the table as she made her way over. She had noticed him earlier, moments after she had walked through the door as he was walking in her direction. At the time she hadn't thought much of it, figuring he was just moving through the crowd. Now she saw him for the first time as she walked up to the same table where he was standing.

She timed her reach to coincide with his, ensuring that their hands knocked against each other slightly.

"Sorry about that," he said, gesturing for her to take it.

"Why thank you." She batted her eyes at him ever so slightly before reaching out to grab the last crabcake on the table.

"Oh, these are delicious. I do hope that they bring more out for you," she said after taking a bite, letting her lips curve upwards slightly in a laughing smile.

Having made all the impression she wished to make, Jean flashed the stranger another smile and turned away, letting her hips sashay just that extra little bit as she moved past him. Facing away from him now, she forced herself to down the rest of the crabcake. She hated crabcakes, absolutely hated them. Still, it had been the best way to flirt with him, so she had sucked it up.

It was tough to do so without feeling like a fool, but she had seen the way he had looked at her when their hands connected. This was a man who liked a woman with curves, who would appreciate the way her body moved in the knee-length black dress draped over her form. She just had to hope that he would have the guts to come after her. Jean certainly knew she would be okay
appreciating
him.

"Hey, I never did catch your name," he spoke up, his long strides easily matching her pace.

She looked up at him. Way up. He was far taller than her, and she was close to six feet in height, quite tall for a woman. He must have been a solid four or five inches over six feet, and he had the legs to match. She was walking normally, but he barely had to put in any effort to stay with her. Not that she wanted him to go anywhere else.

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't have dropped it," she replied demurely, flashing him a quick smile, so that he knew she was teasing him.

He laughed at her subtle joke, a genuine sound that reached all the way to his brilliant green eyes. That was appreciated, for all too often at these types of events the men were so fake, willing to do whatever it took to bed her.

She hated that. It was far more fun if they were interested, but provided a challenge. She didn't know enough of her mystery man yet to judge, but she thought one way or another that he would be fun. Definitely nicer to her than the last man, and most of the men she tended to meet at events like this.

Jean Taylor was a blogger. Quite a successful one at that, though she didn't like to advertise it too much. A lot of that had to do with what she blogged about, which was sneaking into the events of the rich and having fun while doing so. The more people who knew what she did, the harder it would be for her to keep doing it.

As it was, being curvy and taller than average made it more troublesome for her to have fun, but there were always guys interested in her type at any party. Not that she ever did anything with them, but she flirted shamelessly. If they thought she was into them, they would usually give her far juicier gossip than she would normally get. It was always Jean who was in control of the situation, however, never the other way around.

So it was that when he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder she stutter-stepped slightly in surprise at the electricity of his touch. The pressure from his hand indicated he wanted her to stop and face him, which she did as if under a spell. The magnetism about him was stronger as he pushed slightly inside of her personal space, forcing her to look up into his dreamy features.

He had the hint of stubble across his face, a strong jaw, and of course the eyes. The sheer vibrancy of them surprised her, as did the depths of pain they seemed to hold. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but knew it would ruin the mood. Instead, she smiled bashfully, batting her eyes just once or twice more than was necessary.

The short but sexy haircut he sported mixed well with his athletic build. The cut of his suit and the way he moved with surety told her of his strength and confidence within himself. This was a dangerous man to provoke, but the way his hand still rested on her shoulder told her of how gentle he could be. She wanted nothing more than to hold that hand and pull herself into him.

The fires within her agreed with that thought; his eyes fanning the flames between her legs as he tried to subtly look her over one more time as his mouth opened to speak. The background noise overwhelmed whatever he was trying to say as a buzzing sound cut off her hearing. It didn't affect her body, however, as her nipples hardened to attention, pushing through the thin fabric of her dress that she was sure he could see.

Except he wasn't looking at her body anymore; he was looking directly at her with a puzzled look on his face.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked, somewhat embarrassed by the fact that she had completely ignored whatever he was saying while she blatantly checked him out.

"I asked if you would give me your name in exchange for a dance?"

"That sounds like you get two for the price of none there mister," she replied, quickly returning to her normal sharp-tongued self.

"Chase."

"I'm sorry?"

"My name is Chase, I much prefer it to 'mister' if you don't mind."

"Well Chase," she said, rolling the name around on her tongue, "I still don't see why I should grant you both of those things. What do I get out of it?"

"The best dance of the evening of course," he replied with a charming smile that caused warm, thick honey to gather between her legs, preparing herself for him as if it was already guaranteed that she would be sleeping with him before the night was out.

Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing, she thought to herself as she took his extended hand, letting him whisk her away to the dance floor. The live band was playing a slower, more stately number. To her surprise, instead of holding her close and trying to press their bodies together, he held her arms-width apart.

"Follow my lead."

"What?" She barely had time for the exclamation before he began to move her around the floor. It swiftly became obvious that he was an extremely skilled dancer, one who could ensure that even someone with two left feet such as her could be made to look flawless.

The other couples on the floor moved aside to give them room as he sent her through ever faster spins and dips, making her body move with just the slightest pressure of his fingers on her hands or his palm against her waist.

With the final crescendo of music, he dipped her low, his face close to hers. He was barely breathing heavily, holding her up easily while she gasped for breath. The crowd erupted with applause, the noise of it forcing her to look to the sides. Everyone was watching her now, all eyes focused on the pair.

"Can I have your name now?" he asked, only a little smugly.

"Jean," she gasped. "Jean Taylor."

"Last name too? You must have enjoyed the dance then," he said, smiling at her as several groups of people came over to compliment them on their dance.

Jean endured the spotlight for a moment, all thoughts about her cover being blown strewn aside as she stared at Chase, admitting to herself that she was completely smitten. He was charming, talented, and panty-drenching gorgeous, if she was honest with herself.

After a moment they excused themselves from the crowd. She let Chase guide her back to the buffet table, her arm completely entwined within his. For the next short while, at least, she had no plans of letting go. It still remained to be seen if she would be there at the end of the night or not.

"Oh look, they restocked the crabcakes!" he exclaimed lightly, snatching one up with delight while also passing one her way.

She took it, eyeing the food suspiciously, wondering if she could stomach another. A split second image of her and Chase ten years from now at some party or another flashed through her head. He was handing her a crabcake there as well, to which she dutifully forced it down, still never having had the heart to tell him she hated them.

"What was what?" Chase asked at her soft snort of laughter at the vision.

"Oh nothing important," she said, clearing her throat to try and ease the tickle that had settled in after her laugh.

"Everything okay?" Chase asked it lightly, wanting to ensure nothing was wrong, but without any of the overactive levels of concern that often manifested themselves in men she barely knew. Jean was a tough woman who could take care of herself. If she wanted help, she had no problems asking for it, so she was always appreciative of a man who wasn't too overprotective.

"Yep, just" she replied with a smile.

With a smile he popped the rest of his own food into his mouth, forcing her to acknowledge the piece still in her hands. Wanting to get rid of it, she stuffed the whole thing into her mouth instead of eating it daintily in two more manageable bites.

Chase

Chase raised an eyebrow as Jean wolfed down the crabcake in one bite. The gusto was admirable, if out of place at the formal event. Not that he was going to say anything, for she was clearly a woman who did what she wanted. In a way, he found that attractive.

She coughed again, trying to subtly clear her throat.

"Did you want a glass of water?" he asked, motioning towards another table that held drinks. She nodded, covering up a cough as they went to the other table. The liquid seemed to help her momentarily.

"So, what brings you to this illustrious event?" he asked, curious as to who she knew here.

"Well, I never could miss out on a good party," she replied dryly, cracking a smile that sent his heart racing.

She was gorgeous, and the way that the two of them had flowed together had left him more entranced than when the music had started. His wolf had been going wild within his mind nonstop since he had first grasped her waist. Even now, as they chatted idly about her job at working for a magazine, his other half was making a racket within his skull, doing its best to gain control so that it could mate with her and claim her.

Chase sympathized with its desires, knowing just as well as any that he had kept his wolf alone for too long. But until he was sure he was with his mate, he would keep himself in check.

"...it's going well, can't complain," Jean was saying about her job. As she opened her mouth to speak, she dissolved into a coughing fit, hunching over while resting an arm on the table.

"Jean, are you okay?" Something was bothering her, something that had come up since the dance. She was trying to hide it but was failing in that aspect.

When she stood up, he could see that her neck was swollen. The pressure on her neck was making it hard for her to breathe. She tried to say something, but started coughing again.

"We need to get you help," he said as her eyes widened slightly, indicating that she was having trouble breathing.

Without waiting for her consent, he bent down slightly, wrapping one arm around her back and the other around her legs. Using his abnormal strength he simply stood up and began running toward the entrance.

The guests immediately picked up that something was wrong, and before he had gotten halfway across the room Chase could see some of his packmates moving for the door. The bond they shared was deep, and extreme moments of urgency could be felt, such as this one.

"Start the truck!" he yelled at Holden, who bolted ahead. Meanwhile Kevin, and then Bryce held open successive sets of doors so that he could simply charge through them on his way to the truck. Holden already had it in gear and was reversing to the door when Chase got outside.

"In the back," Kevin called, pushing past him to drop the tailgate down. Without waiting Chase simply bent his knees and leapt into the bed of the truck, flexing his legs to absorb the landing. He and Kevin gently laid Jean down on her back while Bryce slammed the tailgate closed before hopping in as well, banging on the side to let Holden know to gun it. Ethan had appeared as well, hopping into the passenger side of the cab.

"What happened?" Kevin yelled over the rushing air as they kept her head tilted back so that as much air as possible could make it in.

"I don't know, maybe an allergic reaction to something?" There had been no clear indication of what it was.

Unless...

"Crabcakes, it had to be the damn crabcakes! She didn't start having any problems until eating one of those. Then she had another, which worsened the symptoms. We have to get her to a doctor quickly!"

Holden was doing his best, moving swiftly through town. There was not a hospital in town, but there was an emergency clinic. Hopefully they would have something to help Jean out. Chase would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to her while in his car.

Jean's eyes were wide open, jerking back and forth between the men in the truck with her. Chase thanked the stars that she wasn't freaking out on them, that she seemed to understand the severity of the situation, and that the men were only trying to help her.

"Jean, I need to ask you some questions. I don't want you to try to speak, instead, I want you to squeeze my hand. Two hard squeezes for yes, one for no. Can you do that?"

One. Two.

"Okay, you had crabcakes. Have you ever had them before?"

Two squeezes.

"Have you ever felt sick or suffered an allergic reaction from them before?"

One hard squeeze.

"Is there anything else that you are allergic to that you are aware of?"

Two squeezes.

"Okay, does it feel more like something is stuck in your throat, one squeeze, or that your throat is swollen, squeeze twice."

Two squeezes.

"You're having an allergic reaction to something. We're taking you to the closest doctor who should be able to help you. While we go, I need you to try to remain calm, breathe slowly and keep your head tilted back. If you at any point find that you cannot breathe
at all
, squeeze my hand three times. Understood?"

Two squeezes.

He absentmindedly brushed some hair out of her face, doing his best to keep everything clear of her mouth so that Jean could breathe as easily as possible. The pounding in his chest intensified as they drove, reaching a point where it seemed like it was going to burst through his ribcage under the adrenaline and stress of the situation.

The "Open" light was still on in the clinic window, thankfully. Chase had never had occurrence to use it, but Harper had had good things to say about Doctor Sadler. Apparently Doc Sadler was a big time physician who had moved to town from Seattle looking for a quieter life.

Before Holden had even pulled to a halt, Ethan leapt out of the truck and ran inside shouting for help. Bryce was bringing the tailgate down while Kevin and Chase gently picked up Jean and made a beeline for the door. Behind them Holden pulled the truck around to park it out of the way of any other emergency arrivals.

Chase tried to take the steps as swiftly as he could without jostling the woman in his arms. Helping hands pulled the double glass doors open so that he could walk inside. The clinic was clean and stark, reminding him perfectly of a hospital down to the uncomfortable faded-blue waiting chairs.

The nurse inside was ready for their arrival, motioning Chase toward the hallway. Moments later he had turned Jean over to their care, though he continued to hover nearby until the doctor arrived. He barely clued in to the fact that Doctor Sadler was a woman, though from the look on Bryce's face he was completely smitten. The puppy-dog eyes he was making in her general direction brought a wan smile to Chase's face while he waited.

"She'll be okay."

Startled, Chase jumped slightly as he turned to face the owner of the voice. It turned out to be none other than Doctor Sadler. He breathed a sigh of relief at her words and the fact that she was out here talking to him directly. If the doctor was confident enough to come out of the room and talk to him personally, the situation must be in hand.

"You were correct, it was a reaction. We've given her a shot and put a tube down her throat until the swelling goes down. If everything goes well, she should be perfectly fine in the morning. We'll keep her here for a few more hours, but she should be okay to go home for the night."

"Are you sure, Doc? She lives three hours away."

"Ah, well, that changes things," she said, frowning.

Chase blushed as he got the feeling that the woman had assumed that he and Jean were together and that he would simply take her home for the night. Although he very much wished that were the case, he couldn't. The interaction between the wolf and the woman in the clinic had amounted to nothing more than the better part of an hour in a loud noisy hall.

"She's going to be very drowsy for the next twelve hours, so operating a vehicle is out of the question for sure. She should really have someone nearby as well, as a precautionary measure."

"Okay, thank you, Doctor," Chase mumbled, drifting away to a seat, trying to think of what he should do now. Part of him wished Jake were there. He was the leader of the group and was used to making snap decisions. Until now, Chase had been able to simply sit back and follow his lead.

Now, however, with the pack settling and Jake having found his mate and starting a family, things were changing. While he was still the leader, the others were still alphas in their own right. The Wandering, as it was referred to by shifter peoples, was always composed of packs of alphas.

Forced out and sent on the road to find their mates and start new lives, they had had to learn to work as a team, to accept that there would be situations where they might have to let someone else lead. In the case of this group, Jake had emerged as the leader.

So when confronted with a situation like he was now, Chase knew he would have to come up with a solution on his own. His brain was moving at a swift pace, playing out various options of where Jean could go and how he would ensure she was looked after. In the end it always came down to the same answer.

She would have to stay with him.

Chase hadn't bought a house in Moonlight Canyon yet, though he had poked around. It was his intention to wait and let any future mate pick the house. He was a big believer in the old saying "a happy wife equals a happy life." Until that time he intended to continue renting the single-bedroom apartment he currently lived in. Which meant that it looked like he was sleeping on the floor that night, because he wouldn't do that to Jean.

Chase was an honest and proper man. He would give up his seat on the bus, or in this case the comfort of his bed, for Jean to stay the night. In the morning, if she was feeling better, perhaps he could revisit the idea of them spending some more time together.