The Alpha's Daughter (21 page)

"Your wolf doesn't need a long engagement.
She knows what's what. You're a strong and powerful wolver woman
who's met a strong and powerful alpha who's capable of being a
strong and powerful mate. Lust is a part of it as it should be, but
lust isn't all of it and you know it," the old woman said.

Jazz eyed the old fashioned decanter on the
counter and when the Mate nodded, poured herself another two
fingers worth. Refortified, she said, "Okay, suppose you're right,
and I'm not convinced you are. Aren't you forgetting the other half
of this equation? The doctor wants no part of me. He's not
interested in a mate. Hell, he's not even interested in casual
sex."

Miz Mary lowered her chin and gave Jazz an
unbelieving look from beneath her brows.

"Okay!" Jazz raised her hands, laughing at
the look. "He's interested, but he doesn't want to be."

"Then shake him up some more." Miz Mary rose
and took her glass to the sink.

"How in the hell am I supposed to do that?"
She swallowed the last mouthful of Apple Pie and passed her glass
to the Mate. Their visit was over.

"You're a smart girl. You'll think of
something. Love always finds a way."

"I don't love him," Jazz insisted.

The Mate waved her comment away with a flick
of her wrist.

"Try telling that to your wolf," she
laughed.

Jazz took the long way back to the house. She was a wolver
and it would take more than a couple of glasses of local hooch to
make her drunk, but the Mate's Apple Pie had softened the edges of
her mind and what she wouldn't have considered a few hours ago, now
deserved some thought.

The old woman was right. Jazz could deny it
all she wanted, but the truth was there staring her in the face.
Her wolf had found a mate. From a purely biological standpoint, it
made sense.

Putting false modesty aside, Jazz knew she
was a powerful wolver. In spite of her lack of education, she was
smart. Roscoe, her father's bookkeeper, said she was a natural with
numbers. Not only could she calculate large sums in her head and
figure percentages in a snap, she could analyze profit and loss and
clearly see where money was wasted and where more could be
made.

She was attractive. She was no raving beauty,
but certainly good looking enough to turn some heads wherever she
went. No dainty lightweight, she was tall and muscular and carried
enough weight to put some force behind her strength, though she was
endowed with enough curves and grace not to appear mannish. She was
fast and she was cunning and if she'd been born a man, she would
have made a prime alpha.

To her wolf, it was only natural that she
should seek a strong and powerful mate to create strong and
powerful offspring. It was necessary for the survival of the pack.
The strongest would adapt and flourish.

There was no doubt that Griz was a prime
alpha, well suited to her wolf's needs. He was big, strong, smart,
and carried the power of healing like a second skin. In any other
man, wielding a gift such as healing magic would have to be
physically and mentally draining, much like using the magic of the
mantle to transform members of his pack was draining to the Alpha.
In saving the mother and child, Griz showed little after effect. It
was another sign of his strength.

From a practical standpoint, mating up with
Griz might make sense too. First and foremost, he had no ambition
to become the Alpha. Mated to him, Jazz would have no pressure to
become an Alpha's Mate. Living in Gilead, Jazz wasn't likely to run
into any other single Alphas to work their touchy-feely thing on
her except Roger and she'd been pretty clear about how she felt
about that. Being mated would take away that possibility anyway,
wouldn't it?

She liked Griz well enough. She respected him
and his work and from his reaction to what little she'd done to his
house, he wouldn't expect her to become Susie Homemaker. She could
do her thing and he could do his. They could enjoy each other's
company when they were together, but not miss each other when they
were apart.

The more she walked, the more she thought and
the more she thought, the more sense it made. By the time she
reached the road in front of the house, the idea, which in her mind
had become Plan A, was looking more and more appealing.

Even the house looked more appealing. It
didn't look tilted anymore. Jazz tipped her head the other way.
Oops, that was the Apple Pie talking. The house was still listing
to the left. Oh well, it added character. She smiled and tried to
imagine what it could look like.

Missing shutters could be replaced and the
color, or rather the lack of color, could be easily rectified. Now
that the stairs were repaired and the porch swept, it looked more
inviting and the addition of a couple of chairs and a table would
make it even better.

A picture formed in her mind of another
impromptu party like the one the other night. She decided Edna and
Edith were right. They needed music for the next one. A replacement
for Dear Ernest would have to be found. She tried to smile again
and couldn't because she already was.

"Are you going to stand there gaping or are
you going to come in so I can lock up and go to bed." Griz tried to
put his hands on his hips, but the doorway wasn't wide enough. He
stepped out onto the porch to complete the impatient gesture.

What was the man talking about? "Lock up? You
never lock up. Do you even have a key?" Jazz walked to the foot of
the stairs and looked up.

"You know what I mean." He frowned down at
her. "If you're going to go out carousing… and don't tell me you
weren't, I can smell the alcohol from here… you could at least come
home at a decent hour."

"I'm not telling you anything except I don't
think people carouse anymore," she said, "They party. The word
you're looking for is partying."

"Fine. While you were out partying or
whatever, the Alpha was here looking for you." Griz didn't sound
happy about it.

"Yeah? What did he say?" Jazz stepped up and
then back down. Damn tilty house.

"He wanted to know where you were?"

"Ha!" She almost told him that the sly old
wolf knew damn well where she was then thought better of it. "He's
an old honey bear," she said instead. This time, by leaning forward
and not thinking too hard about it, she made it up the steps.
"You're an old grizzly bear," she said when she reached the porch.
"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. I told him you went off in a snit
with Roger Wilson."

"I was not in a snit and where was I supposed
to go? You threw me out."

"You were and I did not throw you out."

Jazz tried to look up at him, felt like she
was losing her balance and so spoke to his chest.

"You sold the pigs. You handed me money. You
said I had to leave."

"I didn't say you had to leave that minute
and I sure as hell didn't say you had to do it with Roger Wilson.
You were gone for five hours." He shouted in exasperation. "Five
hours! What the hell were you doing for five hours?"

Her grizzly sounded like a jealous lover. The
Mate said the doctor was feeling things he didn't want to and Jazz
wondered if jealousy was one of those things. Something warm welled
up inside her at the thought.

"I don't think that's any of your business,"
she said, brushing past him into the house. If her hair had been
longer, she would have flipped it over her shoulder in the
contemptuous way those actresses did in the movies.

"You live in my house. That makes it my
business. I'm responsible for you," he said as he followed her into
the house.

"Bull. No one's responsible for me but me. I
don't need a keeper."

"Judging by your taste in men, I'd say you
do."

"You don't know anything about my taste in
men. I'll go out with whoever I choose."

"Not with fucking Roger Wilson you won't. I
won't allow it. It's not right."

Griz said it with a finality that made Jazz
want to laugh. "What's wrong with it?" she asked innocently. "He's
a nice guy. He even offered me a place to stay since you threw me
out." She flipped out her hand as if to say, "This is your
fault."

Griz's big paw closed over her hand. "He's
using you, Hellcat, and I won't allow any man to use you." He let
her hand go and turned away. "Roger wants to be the Alpha."

Jazz froze and her breath caught in her
throat. Damnit, he knew! The Alpha knew. The Mate knew. Roger
Wilson knew and now Griz. Her secret was becoming as secret as the
front page of the Daily News. How long before the others knew? How
long before they put on the pressure to mate with Roger Wilson,
their future Alpha. No one would force her, but they wouldn't let
it rest. Better the devil you knew, right?

Griz kept talking and it took a moment for
Jazz's brain to catch up with the words.

"He'll keep you as a bedmate, string you
along until the real deal shows up or until your wolf demands that
you mate. He's done it before. Why do you think Didi ran off with
the guy in the flashy car? Why do you think she came back?"

Her fear of being found out was forgotten.
All she could think was, Didi? High-rumped,
my-boobs-are-bigger-than-yours Didi had a major crush on Roger?
Jazz could picture Roger breaking someone's patience. No way could
she picture him breaking someone's heart.

"Didi? Didi has a thing for Roger?" It was
unbelievable. Jazz put her hands on her hips and eyed Griz
suspiciously. "Then why is she always flaunting her wares in front
of you?" And thinking she was sounding a little jealous, herself,
added as an afterthought, "Or Donna's son, what's-his-name."

"Joey. Didi thinks Joey and I are the two
most likely to make Roger jealous. Don't change the subject. We
were talking about you and Roger."

"You were talking about me and Roger. I
wasn't. There is no me and Roger."

"Then where have you been for five hours? The
Alpha didn't know. Ellie hadn't seen you. Christ, I even called
Donna."

The Alpha knew where she was and Ellie had
seen her on the road with Livvy. That Griz would call Donna was a
clear admission of his desperation. Donna was the only one who told
him the truth, although one of the cars that passed her looked
vaguely familiar, so maybe Donna was part of the conspiracy, too.
Apparently Jazz was the last to be invited to join.

"You were worried about me." She smiled at
the thought.

"I don't see what's funny about it," Griz
told her, misinterpreting her smile. "Of course I was worried about
you. You could have gotten lost."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "I'm a wolver. I can
find my way home, remember?"

"Right," he said, "Sure. So what were you
doing for five hours?""

Jazz laughed, continuing up the stairs. "I
was talking, all right? Just talking. Quit jumping to
conclusions."

”
Bullshit. What other
conclusion is there? Roger Wilson couldn't handle five hours of
conversation without repeating each sentence fifty times. You'd
kill him after the first twenty minutes."

She whirled on him, dramatically throwing her
hands in the air. "Fine! We spent the night fucking up against the
flag pole in that patch of purple petunias in his front yard! Happy
now?"

Griz was frozen for two seconds, glaring at
her with his fists clenched against his sides. He looked like he
was ready to explode and then his breath released and his lips
twitched and then two seconds later he laughed.

"Those red, white and blue petunias are his
pride and joy. Drives him crazy when someone calls the blue ones
purple. He'd never dream of trampling them like that. And in his
front yard where anyone passing by might see? No, no, no, no, no,"
the words rat-a-tat-tatted from his mouth. "Whatever you did, it
wasn't in the petunia patch in his front yard."

"No shit, Sherlock.
So, when you have eliminated the
impossible, whatever remains,
however improbable
, must be
the truth," Jazz quoted the famous detective. "I was
talking!"

"About what?" he shouted.

"The weather!" she shouted back. The man was
impossible and she'd be damned before she told him with whom she
was talking or about what. "I'm done talking to you. I'm going to
bed."

"Then you're going the wrong way," he shouted
when she was half way up the stairs, "I fixed you a bed on the
couch." Griz pointed to where he'd spread a blanket over the lumpy
cushions and topped it with a pillow.

"Oh no." Jazz shook her finger at him over
her shoulder. "I cleaned and painted the room. I hauled the
mattress. I get the bed. I'd invite you to join me, but we know how
much you hate that frilly, girly stuff."

Griz stood at the bottom of the stairs with
his hands on his hips. "There's nothing frilly about that room and
I think you're forgetting that it was my bed in the first
place."

"Property disputes can be settled by the
Alpha. I'm sure he'll be happy to address it at his next Court day.
Until then, sleep well, Griz.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped and
turned. Crossing her arms and catching the hem of her tee in her
hands, she pulled it up over her head and tossed it to an open
mouthed Griz.

"And while you're tossing and turning on that
lumpy couch, think about the comfortable warm bed you're
missing."

Miz Mary said Jazz had to find a way to shake
Griz up. Looked like she did that without even trying. She blew him
a kiss from the top of the stairs and went to her freshly painted
bedroom, smiling at the day's success.

The day dawned as the Alpha swore it would, warm and sunny,
which was the exact opposite of how Jazz felt. Banning Griz from
her bed had seemed like a great idea at the time, but once she was
situated under the freshly washed sheets and covers, she couldn’t
sleep.