Alpha’s Temptation: A Billionaire Werewolf Romance: 1 (Bad Boy Alphas)

Jackson

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I walk to the Range Rover in the solar panel-covered parking. I lift my nose to the air and sniff, but all I smell is the cool spring air of the desert.

The moon beckons me, makes me itchy to shift and hunt for Kylie.

I reach the vehicle and stop.

A dark head is visible in the passenger seat of my car. I know immediately it’s her.

My body surges into emergency mode, the shift upon me. I don’t know what to think—someone’s murdered her and put her in there. Or that she’s waiting to kill me. Or she’s committed suicide and left her body for me to find.

I know it’s Kylie, and getting to her is a goddamn emergency. I rip open the door.

She’s not dead. She’s not even hurt. And she’s not holding a gun.

All I find is a pale, tear-streaked face punctuated by huge, miserable eyes.

Relief and fury simultaneously flood my veins. I haul her out of the car by her wrists and slam the door.

I don’t smell fear on her, but she’s docile, like she knows she deserves my wrath. Obviously she’s delivered herself to me, which makes no sense logically, but the wolf in me approves.

“Kitten, you have to be crazy showing up here tonight.”

A single tear tracks down her face. She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah. I’m crazy.”

“You have thirty seconds to explain yourself.” I don’t expect her to have an explanation—I can’t fathom anything that would possibly excuse her behavior, but I need to hear what she has to say.

“When I got home last night, my grandmother was gone. They’d taken her.” More tears well up in her beautiful eyes, and the scent of them does something to my wolf. Every cell in my body screams at me to protect her, to fix whatever has made her cry. “They called, and a computer-generated voice said I should have done what they instructed me to do.” Two more tears track down her cheeks.

I’m ready to tear these fuckers apart with my teeth. I wouldn’t even need to shift to do it.

“Mémé is all I have. Stupid me. I thought they’d give her back if I installed the code. But, I’m sure she’s dead. I’ve been perfectly set up to take the fall for ruining SeCure. I’m sorry, Jackson. I screwed you, but I’ll do anything to help you fix it. I know you have no reason to believe me. I know you have even less to trust me. But I’m here. I’m offering myself up to you.” She holds her wrists out like I have handcuffs. “Call the cops, if you want. But you know I’m more useful to you outside of jail. And I sure as hell want to make them pay for what they’ve done to—” Her face crumples, and I’m helpless to do anything but pull her against my chest.

The rightness of her body against mine soothes the wolf.

“She may not be dead.”

Kylie bunches my button-down shirt in her fists as her tears wet it. “Why would they keep her?” she chokes.

The scent of her anguish fucking slays me. She’s right. Her grandmother probably is dead.

“Get in the car,” I say, more gruffly than I mean to. I throw open the door. “You’re my prisoner until we figure this out. You won’t leave the mansion. You won’t do anything but eat, sleep, and trace this fucking code to shut it down. Got it?”

She nods and slides into the passenger seat. “Yes, sir,” she whispers. She sounds so forlorn and lost, but my wolf still takes her deference as a win.

Mine.

She came back to me. Mine to handle. Mine to punish.

Mine.

~.~

Kylie

Jackson doesn’t speak as he drives to his mansion. I can’t believe he didn’t wrap a fist around my neck and squeeze. Or call the cops.

He’s angry, still. I sense his fury, simmering underneath the tightly-leashed control. But it didn’t stop him from wrapping me up in his arms and letting me cry on his shirt.

I was right to stay in town. It’s the first right decision I’ve made in a long time.

I’ve never trusted anyone but family before, but something about Jackson King keeps me coming back, checking my insecurities at the door, and offering myself up on a silver platter. It’s crazy.

Because he truly holds my life in his hands now. It would have been so easy for him to turn me over to the police. They could make an ironclad case against me. And maybe he still will, after I help him quarantine the infected data.

But, somehow, I don’t think so. Jackson feels like safety to me. Like home. The opposite of the utter loneliness I experienced walking down Congress Street contemplating my future.

“Thanks,” I say hoarsely.

He turns his serious gaze on me. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Against my better judgment, yes. I do.”

I settle back against the seat, exhausted, but relieved. “I’ll do anything to help. I won’t rest until I’ve fixed it. Okay? I promise.”

He reaches over and brushes my cheek. “I will help you, too, kitten. I’ll hire a private investigator tomorrow to look into your grandmother’s disappearance.”

It’s a sweet gesture, but I doubt a PI will be able to find anything a hacker couldn’t. Still, tears of gratitude leak from the corners of my eyes.

Jackson’s nostrils flare, and his glance shifts from the road to my face. He rubs away one of the tears with a knuckle. “Tell me about your grandmother. She lives in Tucson?”

I draw in a steadying breath. “We moved here together. We live together. I’ve been living with her since—” I stop because I’ve already told him too much about myself. I don’t want him to piece it all together.

“Since when?” he asks sharply, like he already knows.

“Since my parents died. She’s all the family I have. Had,” I modify, my stomach lurching.

“Is she dead, kitten? Do you know it in your gut? Reach beyond the fear. Yes or no?”

No.

Relief slips around me like a blanket. “I don’t think so,” I croak. I’m fascinated by Jackson’s reliance on gut instinct over logic. A man with a brain like his? If he trusts it, so do I.

Jackson gives a single nod. “Then we need to crack this code and find her.”

I square my shoulders, the mantle of purpose returning. My brain launches into dissecting what I’ve seen of the malware. I pull out my computer. “Mind if I work in the car?”

“I’d be pissed if you didn’t.”

We drive another ten minutes in silence with me studying the unlaunched code I copied from the thumb drive earlier. When we reach Jackson’s mansion, the automatic gate swings open, and he pulls into the drive. I snap my laptop closed and shove it in my bag, looking up at the house.

Jackson’s black wolf dog stands on the step looking down at us as the car rolls past. His greeting lacks the waggy-tailed joy of a normal pet. There’s an aloofness to it, an eerie quality that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“I’m not sure wolves should be kept as pets,” I mutter as he pulls into the garage.

Jackson arches a brow. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

I won’t let him hurt you is quite different from he won’t hurt you. The capacity to maim or wound is definitely there.

“What’s his name?”

Jackson hesitates, like his dog doesn’t have a name, or he doesn’t remember it. “Wolf,” he says finally.

“Wolf? That’s original.”

“Keep up the sass, kitten, and I’ll add to your punishment.”

A shiver runs through me, although I don’t think it’s fear. “Punishment?” I give myself a mental high five for saying the word without my voice quavering.

“Mmm hmm. But we’ll deal with that later. Right now, we have work to do.”

We get out of the car and enter through a laundry room and into the kitchen. Wolf meets us there. He bares his teeth at me, growling. He’s even more frightening in full light. He stands as high as my waist, and the black fur at his nape is ruffled with anger, amber eyes staring right at me.

“Enough.” Jackson doesn’t sound nearly as worried as he should, as far as I’m concerned.

I freeze. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

Jackson prods my back from the door, still unconcerned. “He’s just protective.” To the dog, he says, “Kylie’s staying with us. You’ll be watching over her, got it?” He bats Wolf’s muzzle away, and the dog turns and slinks out of the kitchen.

I exhale a shaky breath. “Tell me again why you have a wolf for a pet?”

Jackson ignores my question. “Come on. I’ll take you to your room.”

I push back the disappointment that I have my own room. But what did I think? Jackson would take me into his bed and cuddle me after what I did to his company?

A blow like this may not end SeCure but even if we isolate the potential damage, a loss in reputation may eventually undermine the entire company’s well-being. Even with my help cleaning up, the damage will persist.

I follow him up the stairs.

Jackson leads me to a guest bedroom and switches on a light. The room is tastefully appointed, but, like the rest of the house, lacks any personal touches. I have a feeling he hired a decorator. “You’ll stay in here. I’m going to catch a few hours of sleep before I have to get back to the office.”

“I’ll stay up,” I say immediately. There’s no way I can rest, especially now that I believe my work can help recover Mémé.” I pull my laptop out again. “I need into your system, please. To know how this thing works and spreads. And I need to know what your team is doing to contain it.”

He cocks a brow. “Thought you’d already hacked it. But, no, you went the easy route and used my computer. I must be the biggest idiot on Earth to have left you alone in my office.”

He’s already leaning over me, punching in the password for his Wi-Fi then logging me into SeCure. He smells divine. Like pine trees and…masculine strength. Yeah, I know that’s not a smell. But that’s what his scent evokes.

“No, you weren’t an idiot. You thought you could trust me. I’m going to make it up to you.”

He cups my chin and lifts my face. “I love it when you grovel, kitten.”

A flush spreads across my chest and up my neck. “I’ll bet you do,” I say drily, blushing further when I remember I have a punishment coming.

What will it be this time? Another spanking? I hope it’s something…even more intense.

He explains the orders he’s given his infosec team for quarantining and moving SeCure’s data. His plan sounds solid to me. “It looks like they have it well in hand, so I’ll work on tracing the malware back to its source.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Wake me up at seven a.m. if I’m not already up.”

OMG. I’m playing house with Jackson King. The directive goes straight to my naughty parts as I imagine pulling the sheets off his naked body and arousing him.

Mind out of the gutter, K-K. There’s work to be done.