No matter how angry she was, she knew she didn’t have a choice. She had to get her son back before her brother killed him. She grabbed Toby’s rainbow bear and hurried into her room to pack, praying she could pull this off without getting her son killed. If Grayton was threatening her brother, what if he took out Kenneth’s debt on his closest relations? Her and her son?
What would the Denalis do if they learned what she was up to?
* * *
Jade had driven by Rafe Denali’s house numerous times, watching for Rafe to leave so she could run into him wherever he ended up going. Accidentally. The palatial mansion was set back off the road, a long circular drive visible beyond the gates and providing a glimpse of the white stucco house with its ocean view, but not much more.
This was the first time she’d seen him leaving the estate. He was alone, driving a bright-blue Maserati with the top down, and she followed him to a farmers market and parked several cars away.
Wearing a pair of blue shorts, sandals, a pale-blue T-shirt, and mirrored sunglasses, he climbed out of his car. He didn’t look like he was a billionaire, except he had a hot car, but otherwise, he just blended in with the rest of the shoppers.
She hurried to catch up to him. She couldn’t imagine what he’d be buying. Wouldn’t he have someone else buy his groceries? If she were shopping, she’d get fresh corn and tomatoes.
He stopped at a colorful booth filled with flowers, a bright-red canopy shielding the bouquets and shoppers from the afternoon sun.
In all of the research she had done on Rafe, she hadn’t seen one thing that indicated he had a girlfriend. She let out her breath. Just her luck.
She hesitated, feeling jittery and uptight, but she had to run into him, making it look real and not faked, and then apologize. He’d smell she was a wolf and maybe get interested. God, how she hated this. But she had to do it for her son.
She drew closer, the crowd of shoppers helping to conceal her as she focused on the flowers as if they were her goal and not the hot wolf.
Just as she was getting closer to him, a fair-haired man wearing jeans, sandals, and a black muscle shirt approached Rafe. “Hey, getting something for Consuela?”
“Yeah, Derek. Not sure what else to get her. But I thought she’d like these.” He paid for the bouquet of red and pink roses, and the two men walked off.
Damn. If the breeze had been blowing in her favor, he would have smelled her, turned, and checked her out, at the very least.
She wasn’t going to get anywhere with this while he was with a friend—or whoever Derek was. But since it was the first time she’d seen Rafe leave his place, she decided to wait in her car for him to leave and see where he went next. Or maybe try running into him when Derek left.
She climbed into her car and rolled down the windows, then Googled Rafe on her cell phone. The site that mentioned him the most was written by a photojournalist named LK Marks. He seemed to be obsessed with Rafe’s lifestyle—how Rafe hosted charity events but seemed reclusive otherwise. A number of times, LK Marks mentioned that Rafe was one of California’s most eligible bachelors.
The last posting anyone had made concerning the billionaire was a week ago. So maybe the paparazzi were off chasing someone else for a change and Rafe was old news. Which was good news for her.
An hour passed. The breeze helped keep her cool, but she was annoyed that Rafe was taking so long to return to his car.
Then two hours passed. She left her vehicle and was searching for him when she spied him sitting on the veranda of a Mexican café, burritos on his plate and a glass of iced tea beside it. He was talking with Derek, a couple of packages on the table next to the bouquet of roses. So they must have gone shopping. She let her breath out in an irritated huff. She wasn’t cut out for spy work.
Now what? She needed to get Rafe alone. Unless she could take a seat near him and he caught her wolf scent and piqued his interest, but all the tables out on the veranda were full. She asked the hostess how long it would take to get a veranda seat. Approximately an hour. Across the street, there was a sandwich shop. She headed to it, figuring she could get a view of the Mexican café from there and watch until he left.
Twenty-minute wait there. Trying not to look obvious that she was watching Rafe, she quickly glanced over the menu and decided on a chicken and provolone sandwich. She was called to her table, and when she walked with the hostess through the restaurant to the outdoor seating, she saw where the woman was leading her. Perfect. Flowers obscured the men’s view of her, but she could peek through to watch them. She took her seat and thanked the hostess, then looked over at the men—but they were gone.
* * *
Early in the morning, Rafe Denali perched above the rest of the world, reclining on his poolside lounger and eyeing the aqua-colored Pacific Ocean, the foamy, white waves crashing against the beach with their usual unpredictable rhythm. A rainbow-colored hot-air balloon and a bank of puffy clouds drifted across the bright-blue sky, pushed by the ever-present salty sea breeze. Seagulls called out as they soared high above, and long-legged sandpipers ran across the wet beach as the water began to recede, looking for a meal. A few beachgoers had erected colorful umbrellas in blues and yellows and pinks, along with chaise longues or chairs, and were sunbathing or reading. A few were walking the beach. Life couldn’t be better. Rafe had needed a break after making another thirty-million-dollar sale, and what better way to do that than by sipping a mixed-fruit smoothie while visiting with his best friend, Derek Spencer—also one of the filthy rich and, like him, a wolf.
But he couldn’t relax completely. Rafe was certain that different men had been following him for the past week or so, watching his every move. He’d had one of his private investigators trying to learn what was up, but without success.
He knew those following him hadn’t been paparazzi looking to capture shots of him to show to the world, or sexy women looking to catch his attention—he was used to that. After all, he was an extremely eligible bachelor, at least as far as the unknowing public thought. He was certain that if human women knew he was also a wolf, his single, male billionaire status wouldn’t have as much appeal.
The problem was that the men following him were wolves—just as wary and capable of concealment and evasion in their human form as in their wolf coats. What had tipped him off was that the men hadn’t been carrying cameras when following him as humans. And when he’d caught them watching him at various restaurants or stores, they’d quickly looked away. But when he’d tried to track them, they’d always given him the slip. Sometimes, they left a bit of a telltale wolf scent behind, as if they’d used hunter’s spray for concealment but hadn’t quite masked their own unique scent.
Rafe took another sip of his smoothie. This was so different from when he’d lived with the pack of his birth. He had moved on, left that life behind, wanting something more. The power to make things happen in the human world, not just with a pack.
“Has your brother learned anything from the research he’s been conducting?” Derek asked.
“When he’s running his experiments, he doesn’t like to discuss the results—or, I should say, details—with anyone. Certainly not with me, since that’s not my field of expertise. Just like I don’t discuss the details of my real estate ventures with him.”