Chapter One
“Not a chance.”
The man before her arched one dark brow. “I believe you should check with your boss before refusing my offer.”
“I don’t need to. Despite whatever misconceptions you harbor about this agency, we are in the business of finding true love, not the kind you can rent by the hour.”
Anger curled through Chloe as she watched a slow smile cross the werewolf’s face. Obviously he was not a man well acquainted with refusal.
Every now and then, men of his ilk crossed the threshold of Fated Match, New York’s premier supernatural dating agency. They were on the lookout for a casual encounter that would lead to nothing more serious than an obligatory breakfast. And while she didn’t like to judge other people’s life choices, she’d spent years working to make this agency a success. That success was grounded in the company’s mission to match mates. They strove to find that one person their clients had spent lifetimes waiting for—a fated match that would make eternity far easier to bear.
Chloe was in the business of lasting, permanent love, and she’d seen enough of men to know the wolf before her was more likely to run in the opposite direction of his mate than commit to an eternity with her.
Such a pity. Her boss had been on the hunt for another high profile client, and the werewolf community had been just as hard to crack as the vampire population. With several vamp matches already feathering her cap, Vivian was eager to add a few wolves to her roster. Bringing in a pack alpha like this one would almost guarantee a healthy bonus in Chloe’s future.
Though she had to admit, an expanding bank account had not been her first thought when the wolf had entered her office.
She was used to meeting powerful supernaturals, given the nature of her work, but this alpha had seemed to fill the small room. His power had brushed along her skin like a physical caress as he folded his massive frame into the baby-pink chair across from her desk. The juxtaposition had brought a smile to her face that she’d quickly tried to hide. If ever a man had looked out of place in her feminine office, it’d been Kieran Clearwater. The wolf brought visions of ruthless battles and tangled sheets to mind, not the dainty pink and silver accents that decorated all Fated Match offices.
Not that he looked ill at ease. Chloe doubted much rattled him. Folding his hands on her white desk, he leaned forward and fixed his unblinking stare on her.
“You really ought to run this by your boss,” he said again, an edge of boredom tingeing the command.
Chloe allowed a tight smile to twist her lips. “Mr. Clearwater, let me see if I understand you correctly. You are not here to register for our services. You have no interest in the usual dating package complete with scheduled introductions and access to our substantial internet database of singles.”
“Correct.”
“Instead, you’d like me to find you a temporary lover.”
A grin flashed over his face, causing her heart to hammer once more. “Perfect.”
“No.”
“Sweetheart, the Clearwater pack is not without resources. Name your price and I’ll write you a check.”
Chloe clenched her fists under the table and did her best to exude calm disapproval. “Our clients are members of the supernatural community looking for love. They come to us with the understanding that anyone they meet is just as serious about forever as they are. We are not a procurement agency. If that’s what you’re looking for I’d recommend trying a one eight-hundred number.”
There was no mistaking the mockery that flared in his eyes. “Do I look like I’m in need of such a hotline?”
No. The damn man probably walked into a bar, snapped his fingers, and had women willing to follow him anywhere.
The supernatural community had an advantage over humans when it came to physical beauty. Hell, most of her girlfriends were mated to men that rivaled gods, and the wolf before her was no different. Kieran could easily have walked into any modeling agency in the world and wound up on a magazine cover. His auburn hair curled around his ears, with a cowlick falling across his forehead that her fingers itched to brush away. Equally dark eyes focused on her with a sharp awareness that told her Kieran wasn’t a man who missed much.
He had the full lips and high cheekbones many women would envy—not that anything about him was the least bit feminine. Especially not when one’s gaze dropped below the breathtaking face.
As a species, wolves tended to be larger and more muscular than many of the other races, and this alpha was no exception. His black T-shirt stretched across a massive chest she wished she could run her fingers over. Thank God his leather jacket hid a more detailed view or she wouldn’t have been able to form a single sentence about work. There was only so much one witch could take, after all.