The furry jerk was in the house somewhere. Diana Ridley knew it. A combination of her empathic abilities and the new metaphysical connection she now possessed, gave her a lot of insight to the local werewolf pack. That and the scent of coffee she had not brewed wafted from the kitchen.
Besides, where else would a werewolf pack hang out, but at her house? Never mind that they hated to be referred to as werewolves. They were wolven, more powerful and among and socially superior to their were-cousins. At least, that was Adam Weis’s stand on the matter. Furry elitist jerk.
Diana stormed down the hallway leading to the kitchen. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor, announcing her entry and her churning emotions. Her scent probably preceded her. By whatever means, the three men, muscled prime beefcake material were forwarned and watched her entrance in various states of wariness. Ha! She thought. They should be more than wary. Letting themselves into her house. Sucking down her good mail-order coffee.
Diana ignored the golden blond god and the African-American version of Adonis and slapped the crumbled letter in front of the alpha leader of the pack, the Canis Pater, Adam Weis. A sexy dimple emerged with his killer smile and Adam held out a mug. His pale blue, husky colored eyes met hers with a special warmth reserved especially for her. Her fingers itched to touch the white blond strands of hair that escaped the tie at the back of his neck and fell across a high cheekbone. Oooo. He was good and he knew it. The man was sexy. Diana tried unsuccessfully to smother the heat that unfurled in her belly. She narrowed her gaze and met his without flinching.
“Coffee, my sweet?”
“Don’t try to butter me up.” Adam grinned at her comeback, full of suggestion. Amusement danced in his eyes. She knew exactly where his male, one track mind was heading and headed him off before he tried to weasel his way out of this mess. “I mean it buster. You knew everyone thought we’d done that mate thing.”