The Wolf’s Billionaire by Layla Silver
Chapter 8—Bastian
I didn’t need long to dump my stuff in my room and clean up enough to meet Carrington at the hotel bar, which was good since I didn’t have a lot of time. I made it over a few minutes before eight but, unsurprisingly, he was already there. He’d traded his snow gear for dark pants and a patently expensive gray sweater and he looked every inch a Carrington—quietly posh and predatorily graceful in an almost casual kind of way. The kind of person you had to handle with caution because he’d be all lazy smiles right up until the second he knifed you.
For a moment, I almost wished that I’d packed some of my upmarket wardrobe pieces. If we’d been in Baltimore, I’d have been plenty capable of meeting him on his own terms.
No, I reminded myself. This isn’t about making an impression. In fact, it was best for my purposes if I didn’t come off as his equal or anyone he had to worry about. The less like a threat I looked, the more he was likely to say and the sooner I’d get my answers about what was going on here.
The bartender slid two bottles of beer across the counter and Carrington collected them. Turning, he spotted me and cocked his head toward the back of the restaurant. I started in that direction, falling in behind him when I caught up.
He selected a square table half-hidden behind a rather sad-looking plastic ficus and we took seats opposite each other. Carrington slid one of the beers over to me and leaned back, lounging in his chair.
“I took the liberty of ordering the best they had on hand. I hope you don’t mind.”
Entirely certain that he wouldn’t give a damn if I did, I smiled and took a pointed swig. “Not at all.” Leaning forward, I planted my elbows on the table. “Though I get the impression this,” I tapped the bottle with a finger, “isn’t what you’ll be stocking when you set up your own place.”
Amusement crossed his face and I got the impression that he enjoyed how quickly and smoothly I’d angled the conversation in the direction I wanted it to go.
“I like a man who gets to the point,” he said, taking a sip of his drink and grinning at me. “You want to talk about our plans? Let’s talk.” Letting his bottle rest against one knee, he fixed me with an intent gaze. “Kaia and I are building what is going to be the top-rated and most sought-after resort property in the northeast. Obviously, that includes facilitating the construction of the regional infrastructure necessary to support it. We’ve already got lines on a variety of complimentary services—including luring Ainsley’s brother and his business partner back to set up a secondary site for their brewery if we can.”
I made a mental note to ask Ainsley about that. She’d mentioned that her brother had moved elsewhere for business but she hadn’t mentioned a brewery. Breweries tended to be solid investments if they were well run and, if there was any chance I could get my hands on a copy of his business plan, I might be bumping the starting of my own venture capital firm up the to-do list.
“Impressive.” I tilted my bottle in his direction in a de facto salute. “Where, if you don’t mind my asking, are you getting the funding for a project like that?”
Renly’s eyes narrowed. “Venture capital,” he bit out. “All nice and legal and above board. That is what you’re implying, isn’t it? That you think we’re dabbling in something illegal?”
Ice ran in my veins as his expression changed into something black and hard.
“You wouldn’t have gotten that impression from my mother, would you, Mr. Howe?”
My last name hit me like a punch to the gut. A jumble of questions surfaced all at once; I couldn’t get any of them out.
Carrington snorted derisively. “You look awfully surprised for someone whose picture is prominently displayed on your company’s website,” he sneered. “Are you that unfamiliar with the concept of a reverse image search? Or just not accustomed to anyone bothering to check out your story?”
Fury and alarm scorched through me in tandem. Damn my father for insisting our photos get posted on the firm’s website and fuck me for being a love-struck idiot. I should have told Ainsley the truth that first night—should have told her any moment before now. If Carrington had already shared his discovery with his wife, she could be at Ainsley’s room right now, ratting me out before I had a chance to explain.
“I don’t know how you found Ainsley,” Carrington started.
“It was fate,” I blurted.
He stopped, then slowly raised one eyebrow. “Fate,” he drawled skeptically.
“We met in Tucson,” the words poured out in a defense rush. “She was everything I’ve ever wanted but she left before I could get her number or her last name.”
“But you found her anyway,” Carrington accused, his tone ugly.
“It wasn’t like that,” I snapped. “Yes, I’m here because of the firm, all right? Your mother implied to my father that something shady was going on and I got sent to find out if it was something that would impact firm interests.” I waved in the general direction of the front desk. “But I show up and who do I find? Ainsley.” I shook my head vehemently. “I’m not going to lose her again.” I set my jaw defiantly. “And if you’re up to illegal shit, I’m not going to let her get caught up in it. So, yes, I’ve been poking around and asking questions because I need to make sure you’re above board before I explain the whole truth about who I am and why I’m here to her. And, I should add, I’m still not convinced that you are doing everything above board. Your word only goes so far—especially when you’re so sore over me looking into things.”
His expression shifted, something almost like curiosity flickering across his face. He took a slow inhale, then let it out. I tried not to let the deliberate, animalistic effect of it creep me out. It only kind of worked.
“You love her.” He sounded surprised.
I bristled. “Do you not appreciate how amazing she is or do you think financiers are too cold-blooded to know what love is?” I snapped.
“I think,” he said coolly, “that lying to the woman you love tends to be a terrible plan.” Then he eyed me. “How did you envision this playing out?” he asked, openly interested now. “You have to know Ainsley wouldn’t leave here to go back to the city with you.”
“She might,” I bit out. “If your project turned out to be a scam.”
Despite the sharpness of my words, I had to admit that his forthrightness and protectiveness of Ainsley, inconvenient for me as they were at the moment, were starting to earn my begrudging respect.
“If everything here is above board,” I continued, meeting his eyes and holding them firmly, “then I’m willing to come to her. Permanently.” I felt my mouth flatten. “If you’ve done your research, then you know that my father and I don’t see eye to eye on what to fund. I’ve been looking to start over but I’ve never had any direction.”
“You think Ainsley’s your new direction.” Carrington sighed and rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “I assume she hasn’t told you about the pack?”
“The pack?” I frowned. “Pack of what?”
He snorted. “Lunatics.” He put his beer on the table with a click. “Come on. We need to relocate this conversation.”
What little sense of self-preservation I had screeched that this was probably a very bad idea. Following unfamiliar and blatantly dangerous and well-connected men into dark allies was how people ended up on their own personal episodes of Unsolved Mysteries.
I was already on my feet, though, leaving my unfinished beer behind and following him out into the hotel’s brightly lit corridors. Whatever was going on, it was clear that I wasn’t going to find a better source for getting to the bottom of things… and I never had been able to pass up a good puzzle.
I didn’t pay much attention to where we were headed until he stopped in front of a door and motioned at it. “After you.”
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about—and then realized it was my room. He really was creepily well informed, I decided, producing the keycard from my pocket and letting us in. As I watched, he did a quick circuit of the room, though what he was looking for I had no idea. Then he returned and swung the door bar guard in place, ensuring no one could disturb us… or maybe that I wouldn’t be able to yank the door open to get out. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Here’s how this is going to work.” Carrington shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the luggage stand to his left. “You’re going to stay right where you are. You’re not going to do anything stupid like scream or try to call the front desk.” Leaning over, he started tugging at the laces of his boots, still preternaturally calm.
The weirdness of it made my skin crawl and my stomach twist. The horrible possibility that I’d misjudged the situation made my heart race.
“You can stop panicking,” he said, shucking his shoes and popping the button on his pants. “I’m not going to hurt you—unless you do one of those stupid things we just discussed.”
To my utter shock, he proceeded to step out of his pants.
“I just didn’t bring any spare clothes.” He added the last of his clothing to the pile, apparently not the least bit disconcerted about standing around in a stranger’s hotel room naked. “Stay there,” he ordered, once more.
Before I could even begin to come up with something to say, the distinct sound of cracking bone split the air. My stomach rolled and then there was more crackling and popping and a thick, liquid sound I had no words for. As I watched, suspended somewhere between horror, disbelief, and awe, Carrington’s body transmogrified. I felt like I both saw and did not see it, all at once. As if my brain couldn’t quite follow the impossible shifts of skin, muscle, and bone.
Then, all at once, it was over.
Where Carrington had stood, a panther now sat. An actual and enormous black panther, all sleek lines and hard muscle. As I gaped, it shook itself then stood and prowled in my direction.
What the hell was in that beer?
The panther brushed my leg and my whole body went stiff. The animal was solid and warm. Very much not a hallucination.
I looked down into keenly green eyes—the same feral and laughing eyes I’d seen in Carrington’s smug face.
“Oh, fuck my life.”
The panther made a noise that was too human to be feline but not human enough to be anything but animal laughter. Its tail swished against my knees as it walked unhurriedly back to the pile of clothes.
I tried to follow the transition better this time, with only marginal success. It was no less baffling for happening in reverse and my brain was too busy swirling with a million questions to fully grasp it.
When he was human again, Carrington ran a hand through his hair and reached for his pants.
“So,” he asked conversationally. “Do you want to ask questions or would you like the standard spiel first?”
“Ainsley,” I said, reeling. “The pack—you expect me to believe that Ainsley is a, a—” I motioned wordlessly at him.
“A shifter, yes.” He shoved his feet into his boots. “A panther, no. She’s a wolf, like my wife. Like most of Kaia’s pack, actually—which, by the way, is what’s behind my mother’s resentment. My mother runs the regional panther pride and she’s not happy about sharing territory with another strong Alpha. That’s why we threw the funding meeting with your firm. I wasn’t about to risk our plans by relying on a funder she’s already got her claws into. Next question?”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked in a daze. “About all of this.”
“Serious as death and taxes,” he answered, tugging the last of his clothing into place. “Ainsley is part of my pack and, as the Alpha’s mate, I have as much duty to protect her as Kaia does. If I thought you truly meant her harm, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He smiled—the first true, sympathetic smile I’d seen from him. “But as I happen to know, rather intimately, just how captivating the women of this pack can be, I thought I’d give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“I don't want to hurt her,” I said immediately. “She’s been hurt enough. I just—I’ve met your mother and her people,” I spit out, still rattled. “If you were like her—”
“If I were like her, you’d have good cause to be worried about Ainsley,” he agreed, clearly taking no offense. “But I’m not, which leaves you in an interesting position.” He folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “You have to decide now if you were serious about moving out here to be with her and if you can handle the responsibilities of marrying into a pack—because her heart is always going to be here. Her future is here. And,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “if you want kids, you have to accept that they’ll likely be pups.”
Pups. For a second, I envisioned with fever-dream clarity Ainsley in bed wearing one of her delicate nightgowns, a tiny wolf pup wrapped in a baby blanket in her arms.
“Is that—can that happen?” I asked stupidly.
“Yes.” His brow furrowed. “That’s why you need to think very carefully about what you want. Because if you stay, your life changes. There will be shifter politics and the little white lies that go with being different. You’ll be agreeing to protect her and your future pups from all of that for the rest of your life. Even if you walk away, you can’t un-know things or get out of what that means.”
“I’m not going to walk away.” My hands fisted at my sides, a concrete certainty forming in my chest.
This was what I’d been looking for—waiting for. It was more than just Ainsley, though she was at the center of it. This was the community and the purpose I’d been searching for when I traveled the world. This was where I was meant to plant my roots and make a difference.
“I can help,” I asserted, feeling like my footing was solid for the first time since I’d realized that inadvertently failing to tell Ainsley the truth right away could ruin everything. “I was thinking about starting my own venture capital firm anyway. I can help fund what you’re doing here. Help the pack, while I make a new life with Ainsley. Help the resort.” And, in doing so, help her reach her dreams.
“Good choice.” Carrington—no, Renly, we could be on first-name terms again now that there were no secrets or rivalries between us—nodded approvingly. “I’d hate to have had to drop you in one of the cement pads the construction crews are putting in at the resort.”
I assumed he was joking, but if I was honest with myself I wasn’t at all sure.
Before he could say anything else, his phone went off. I jumped, then cursed myself for the reaction as he fished his phone out and frowned at it. “I have to take this.”
“No problem,” I assured him. “I’ve got a lot of work to do anyway.”
He nodded, thumbing the phone to accept the call. As he lifted it to his ear, he took the two short steps to the door, unlocked it, and neatly let himself out.
Taking a ragged breath, I counted to five, then locked the door and turned back to my empty room, my mind already spinning with the question of where to start.
