Pack of Trouble Read online

  Sophia glared at him and remained silent. Sarcasm didn’t deserve a response, intelligent or otherwise, and the only comebacks that came to mind were the latter. No need to amuse the man more than he already appeared to be.

  “I’m going to fix breakfast. Do you think you can make it to the dining room without my help?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin. No clue really, but she’d crawl before requesting help from him again.

  “Suit yourself.” Ian smirked and left the room.

  The moment she was alone, Sophia relaxed. Then she carefully got to her feet and headed to the connecting bathroom. Still woozy and weak. A triumphant grin replaced her frown. Ha! I made it without him.

  She used the facilities and brushed her hair and teeth. A shower would wait until after breakfast when she’d been fortified with more food. When stark-naked wasn’t the time to collapse, and she’d have to stand in the shower for more than a minute or two, thus increasing the chance of that happening. She’d revealed enough weakness in front of Ian for a while.

  The hum and rumble of voices drew her down the long hall. Ian’s, she recognized right away. The other male and a female were unfamiliar. The male definitely wasn’t Jeremy. She padded to the end of the hall and halted, her gaze falling on the couple sitting on the far side of the dining room table, talking to Ian, who worked in the kitchen out of her line of sight.

  The man wasn’t as broad as Ian, with blue eyes and skin so fair as to be almost paper-white. The kind that would burn instead of tan. Medium-brown hair was tied back, but from that angle, she couldn’t tell how long it might be. The woman seated beside him had long, dark brown hair and green eyes. What Sophia could see of their structure was lean and muscular, though neither of them carried as much bulk as Ian.

  The man noticed her first, pinned her with a searching look, and got to his feet. He wasn’t as tall as Ian but close.

  Sophia raised her chin, straightened her shoulders, and exited the hallway.

  “You must be Sophia.” His gaze locked with hers, measuring. His shoulders squared, bringing him to full height. Here was a man who used his height to intimidate others.

  Another dominant male. Just what my life needs. Two of them. As if Ian isn’t enough. She clenched her teeth and hardened her stare. If this guy thought he could intimidate her, he’d better think again. She might be physically vulnerable, but she wasn’t a weak-minded pushover.

  After a moment, he smiled and shifted his gaze to her chin. “I’m Brett Mitchell. This is my mate, Kelly.”

  She looked at the woman seated beside him.

  Kelly remained in her seat and offered a friendly smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophia. It’s always nice to have another female around.” She glanced up at her husband. “Otherwise, I just about drown in testosterone.”

  Brett scowled and shot her a disapproving look then lowered himself back into his chair.

  “Sophia.”

  She glanced at Ian, who had come to stand on the other side of the breakfast bar.

  “Have a seat, and chat with us. Breakfast will be ready soon.” He motioned toward Brett with the spatula in one hand. “Brett’s my second and the pack’s enforcer.”

  Had he meant the latter as a warning or threat? She narrowed her eyes. No. His tone and the look on his face suggested he’d simply relayed information, like when he’d told her Jeremy was the pack physician. She broke eye contact and sat at the table, choosing one of the captain’s chairs on the ends.

  “Are you really from Seattle?” Kelly cocked her head with a curious look, her smile still friendly.

  Sophia nodded. “Born and raised there.” Such as her “raising” had been. She frowned. Forget it and move on. They’re not asking about your childhood, just where you’re from.

  “Hm. Bad memories there, huh?” Kelly patted her arm. “Believe me, I understand. I feel the same way about New York City. My father was alpha there.” Her dark tone relayed more than simple words did.

  “So you’re not fond of dominant males either, I take it.”

  “Not particularly.” She grinned at Ian and Brett. “But I’ve learned they’re not all domineering jerks.”

  Sophia snorted and muttered, “Yeah, right.” She shot a hostile look at Ian, who glanced over his shoulder and quirked a brow then chuckled and went back to cooking.

  “Besides, my father was a brutal, abusive control freak, and he did me a huge favor.”

  “What?” She stared at the other woman.

  “Sure.” Kelly shrugged. “If he hadn’t been so nasty, I wouldn’t have become strong enough to be mate to a pack second like Brett. Because of my father, I’m not weak or submissive.” She grinned. “Brett needs a strong woman who’ll stand up to him. It keeps him humble.”

  “Behave.” Brett growled softly, though humor glinting in his eyes gave lie to it.

  She chuckled and cast Sophia a look full of mischief. “These pushy males only respect a woman who stands up to them, and it turns them on, to boot.”

  “That’s certainly true,” her husband muttered and leaned over to kiss the side of her neck.

  Turns them on? Good grief. Sophia glanced away from the amorous couple, only to have her gaze clash with Ian’s amused one.

  “Never mind them.” He waved the spatula. “They’ve been like that since the day they met. At least they don’t fight like they used to. For months, I kept O’Neil on speed dial in case there was bloodshed.”

  Brett grinned. “Why should we fight? We found a much more entertaining outlet for our energies.”

  Oh, boy. “Who’s O’Neil?” That was bound to be a safer topic of discussion.

  “Our cleaner.” Ian carried a plate toward her. “He cleans up messes, deals with bodies, that sort of thing.”

  “Bodies?” She frowned. “How often does that happen?”

  “Occasionally.” He shrugged and set the plate in front of her. “Now, eat up.” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

  Sophia glanced at the plate and grimaced. Sausage. Gross. She swallowed to control a strong gag reflex and pushed the plate away, sliding it toward the other couple. “Knock yourselves out.”

  “You need to eat.” Kelly gave her a questioning look.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not eating that. I abhor sausage.” Her father’s favorite meat. She shuddered at the memories the smell evoked and pressed her back into the chair to increase her distance from it. Not that a few inches helped much.

  Brett picked up a link and popped it into his mouth. “Your loss is my gain.”

  Ian appeared at her side, a dark scowl etching lines in his face. “You should eat. I made that for you. Jeremy said you need to eat a lot until your weight returns to normal.”

  “I’m not eating sausage. Suck it up and deal with it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before that you don’t like it?” He put both hands on his hips.

  Glaring, Sophia pushed back her chair and got to her feet, standing toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Exactly when did I have an opportunity? You fixed it without asking what I wanted, much less if there was anything I don’t like.”

  Ian opened his mouth then closed it. His hands dropped from his hips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked rather than assume. Do you like bacon?”

  She blinked. He’d… apologized? Since when did a dominant man admit to being wrong, much less apologize? “Very much so, yes.”

  He nodded. “What about eggs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any preference for how they’re prepared?”

  “No.”

  “Great.” He returned to the kitchen.

  “Want some help?”

  “No.” No hesitation, no waffling. Far too emphatic.

  “Fine.” Sophia slowly sat back down and sighed.

  “Wow.” Brett chuckled. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen someone do that.”

  “What?”


  “Back him down.”

  A soft growl from the kitchen caused the man to lower his gaze, but his chest vibrated on an unmistakable, silent chuckle.

  Some minutes later, Ian set a large plate in front of her, heaped with scrambled eggs and bacon. He opened his mouth.

  Eyes narrowed, she silently dared him to give her another command. She might be a wolf, but she wasn’t a lap dog to be ordered about.

  He snapped his mouth closed, sighed, and returned to the kitchen, only to return moments later with salt. “You might need this.”

  “Thank you.”

  She’d eaten about half of the food in front of her when Kelly gasped and pushed her chair back, strain showing on her face. That’s when Sophia noticed the rather large belly on the other woman that had been hidden by the table.

  Brett frowned and turned to his wife. “Are you alright? Do I need to call Jeremy?”

  After a moment, the dark-haired woman smiled and shook her head. “No. I think it’s just another one of those false labor pains. It didn’t feel like it meant business yet.”

  A pregnant werewolf? Well, that answered one of the questions that had occurred to her. Not that she’d ever planned to have children, particularly after she’d passed her fortieth birthday five years before, but she’d wondered if they really could or if that had simply been a fictional part of the stories she’d read.

  Sophia swallowed hard. “When are you due?”

  “Officially, next week. Hopefully, anytime.”

  “Do you know yet if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  Kelly smiled and laid a hand protectively, proudly, over her belly. “It’s a boy.”

  “Can I ask you a really personal question?”

  “I guess.” The woman shrugged, hesitance crossing her face.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven last month. Why?”

  “Oh.” So young yet. “I just wondered.”

  “What about you?” Kelly cocked her head.

  “A lot older than that.” She chuckled.

  “How old exactly?”

  “Forty-five.”

  “Have you ever been married?”

  “No.” Absolutely not. No way, no how, she wanted to say, but that might be a bit much.

  “Didn’t you ever want a family?”

  “Considering how messed up mine was, no. I’ve focused on my career instead.”

  “Oh? What do you do?”

  “I’m an Executive Chef.” She grimaced. “At least, I was until the first of this year.”

  “Really?” Kelly’s eyes lit up, exactly the way Jeremy’s had the night before at the same disclosure. What was with these people and chefs? “Did you ever study abroad?”

  “Yes, in Italy and France.”

  “That is so cool!” The woman’s smile widened. “Did you hear that, Ian? She’s an Executive Chef. It sounds like you both love cooking.”

  Sophia glanced at the man.

  He scowled then turned back to the food he was eating off a plate on the counter. Why hadn’t he sat with them at the table instead of standing at the counter like that?

  She shook her head at his odd behavior and refocused on her food.

  She’d barely eaten the last bite when Ian appeared at her side, slipped the plate away, and returned to the kitchen. “I’ll help with the dishes.”

  “I’ve got it. You stay where you are in case you collapse.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “So you’ll say right before you hit the tile again, I’m sure.”

  “Again?” Kelly frowned. “You collapsed?”

  “Yesterday, after I got here.” She grimaced. “I haven’t been eating like I should, and it caught up with me.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Ian grumbled. He glanced at the other two wolves. “She quite literally dropped dead.”

  “Do I need to remind you that I started breathing again without your help?”

  “If it hadn’t been Jeremy’s intervention, she probably wouldn’t have survived the night.” He pinned her with a hard, arrogant look. “Go ahead and deny it. I dare you. Brett and Kelly can smell a lie just as quickly as I can.”

  Sophia glared at him but said nothing.

  * * *

  A chef. Not just a chef. An Executive Chef, with capital letters.

  Ian sprawled in the chair in front of the dark fireplace and considered that fact. How should he feel about it? I have no idea.

  Brett and Kelly had gone home shortly after breakfast.

  Soon after that, Sophia had retreated to the guestroom to rest. At least, that’s what she’d said.

  He’d heard the water running at that end of the house for a short while. All had been silent ever since. He hadn’t checked on her, and that had been a couple of hours ago. She either rested, or she didn’t. Nothing he could do about it if she chose not to.

  Teasing Sophia when she’d awakened probably hadn’t been the smartest thing. He’d enjoyed it far too much.

  He needed to keep a distance from her. The only responsibility he had, since he’d taken it on, was to make sure she ate regularly until her health returned. Then he could send her on her way with whatever information she’d come looking for. After that, where Sophia went and what happened to her wasn’t his problem.

  Unease twisted Ian’s stomach, and he closed his eyes.

  The wolf paced the dark confines of his mind, growling softly.

  * * *

  Tears streaming down her face, Sophia set the book on the nightstand and lay down.

  Ian had lost the woman he loved in Germany in the final months of World War II.

  Why did I decide to read instead of sleep after my shower? Very bad choice, indeed. That story would haunt her, probably cause bad dreams far worse than the story of Ian’s Turning had.

  To compound matters, reading how deadly the wolf could be suddenly made concerns for the safety of others more stark. She’d been right to worry. What if she’d lost control in the restaurant? She could’ve killed someone, and quite possibly not stopped with the person who’d ticked her off.

  The clock said lunch would soon arrive, and she had yet to sleep. She’d gotten distracted finishing the second story in the book about Ian’s life, then gone on to read the third and fourth as well.

  Did she dare read the rest?

  Chapter 6

  Well, he couldn’t put it off anymore. Sophia needed to eat.

  Ian sighed and headed for the guestroom. Before he reached the door, a soft whimper penetrated it. He frowned and hurried the rest of the way. The moment he stepped into the room, the scent of fear pushed him back. He didn’t let it stop him from crossing the room and kneeling on the bed to reach Sophia, who tossed in the throws of a nightmare.

  Sweat slicked her skin, plastering hair to her cheeks and forehead. Heat flushed her face.

  He laid a hand against one of her temples then straightened. She was burning up. Had her body switched to hyperthermia?

  Definitely not a time to share body heat or toss her in a hot shower. Would a cold shower help? That might cool her too much. It was only in the mid-fifties outside. Maybe that would work. When her temperature leveled off, he could bring her back inside.

  One arm at her back, the other behind her knees, he tucked her close to his chest, and carefully climbed off the bed.

  Sophia relaxed against him, whimpers fading to silence.

  Ian stilled.

  She snuggled closer and sighed. Content?

  He smiled then shook himself inwardly. What are you doing? Don’t get attached! She’s leaving soon. Remember that!

  With long, fast strides, he carried her to the back door and used an elbow to push it open, grateful for the attachment Carlos and O’Neil had added so a canine could open and close it with ease. He set her down in one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck and returned to the house for a bowl of cold water and a washcloth.

  Ian knelt beside the chair, gently dabbing cool water across her fa
ce, wiping away sweat and blond curls. Humans tended to go into seizures and die from catastrophic brain damage when their body temperatures spiked too high. He’d seen it during the War Between the States with men who’d died of infection. Could that happen to werewolves? They’d been known to die from afflictions lethal to humans, including hypothermia, so was it unreasonable to worry about hyperthermia?

  Stop worrying yourself even more. You’re doing what you can. The rest is in God’s hands, just like in the war.

  Okay, Lord. Her life is in Your hands. Guide me on what I’m supposed to do, and give me peace in knowing You’ve got the rest.

  After about half an hour or so, Sophia stirred, and her eyelids fluttered.

  “Sophia? Can you hear me?” Ian cupped her cheek. Still hot but her temperature seemed to be coming down. Definite improvement.

  Green eyes opened. She looked vaguely in his direction and blinked as though she couldn’t see clearly. Then she whispered, “Ian?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. How do you feel?”

  To his shock, and horror, she burst into tears. Hard sobs racked her, and she curled into a tight ball in the chair.

  What had he done to trigger that? He brushed a hand over her head, at a loss for what to do when he didn’t even know what had upset her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she murmured when the sobs finally waned.

  He straightened. She was apologizing to him? Why? “Uh….”

  She sniffled and uncurled somewhat, fitting her body to the contours of the chair. “I was wrong. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Ian brushed knuckles across her forehead. Still too warm. No wonder she wasn’t making sense. “Don’t worry about it. Forgiveness comes.” Once he knew what he was supposed to forgive, it probably would, anyway. “You’re still hot.”

  Sophia laughed softly, her eyes glinting with amusement as well as fever. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s told me that.”

  He chuckled when he realized how she’d interpreted his last statement. “Then the men in your life have been blind.”