Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Emily. Fire and frost wrapped in one frustratingly tempting package. Stubborn enough to bite through steel and smart enough to make him regret underestimating her. The thought of waking up with her knife at his throat wasn’t the worst part. It was knowing that she’d probably turn him on at the same time.
He yawned deliberately.
Oswald Brambleton adjusted his bow tie, his eyes narrowing with a steady calm that hinted at his decades upon more decades of experience. He always wore a damn bow tie with his silk suit, even when surveying the mines. “The council is united on this, Jackson,” he said slowly. “You need to understand that if you don’t show stability and an interest in continuing the Alpha line, we may turn to the Blount family.”
Jackson kept his expression stoic. “Blount? There are only three of them. One very old guy and his two teenaged grandsons. Two more teenagers you can control for…what? Another decade? Are you that desperate to hold on to power?”
The air thickened with unspoken threats. Jackson could kill all three of them in moments if he wished. Oh, they were trained and experienced, but none of them had the Alpha blood coursing through his veins. Nor did they share his history—or his temper. Did they even realize that?
Harland settled his heavy bulk back into the sofa, eyes narrowing. “I know what’s going through your head.”
“Good.” Jackson flashed his teeth.
Oswald tugged on his bow tie. “Killing us won’t solve anything. Plus, the three of us might be tougher than you imagine. All at once.”
Jackson doubted it. He’d been under their thumbs since he’d taken over as a teenager without a choice. Now, he had one. But they weren’t wrong. If he wanted the pack to fall in line, he needed to at least appear like he was settling down, and he had to find the asshole who’d sabotaged his main mine last week. The explosion had torn through the granite face like a thunderclap from hell, scattering shards of stone and molten rock across the mine floor, halting production and putting three miners in the hospital.
Whoever was behind it wouldn’t get a second chance.
The damage had cost them more than just time. Jackson had barely managed to smooth things over with their biggest client, Caldwell & Sons. They were a development company that worked all over the Pacific Northwest…and had no idea their contract was with wolf shifters.
But with the deadline for the newest Caldwell estate project exactly two weeks away, he needed the council out of his way until he fulfilled the order—which was why he needed Emily in town providing a distraction for that amount of time. Then he’d deal with pack internal matters. Any further delays would kill the contract and take the mine and his entire pack down financially. The Caldwell job wasn’t just a paycheck; it was their ticket to pulling the entire community out of the red.
Jackson clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he eyed the damn council. Someone wanted to see the Granite Pack fail. Maybe it was a rival outfit, looking to edge them out. Or perhaps it was someone closer to home. Either way, Jackson intended to drag them into the light before they struck again.
“Jackson?” Harland asked.
“I agree that it’s time I found a mate and continued my Alpha line.” Jackson leaned back in his chair. “I’ve never been one to plan for settling down, but a contractual arrangement works just fine for me. Emily Nightsom has agreed to serve as my matchmaker.” Would they believe that nonsense?
Harland’s gray eyebrows lifted. “Are you serious? The Nightsom heir, the one who writes romances, is going to matchmake for you?”
“Yes.” Then when she failed, she’d mate Jackson and end up right where she belonged. “She’ll be here for two weeks.” Long enough for him to fulfill a granite contract that would take the holdings out of the red so he could get the fucking council off his back.
“Interesting.” Irving rubbed his chin. “Perhaps you could also court her while she tries to help you?”
Jackson kept his face neutral, though his shoulders stiffened. Like he had one fucking clue about courting a princess like her. “That’s a thought.”
“From what I’ve heard, she writes romances that are very good,” Harland added, tilting his head as if considering the idea of reading one himself. “You’ll have to be romantic.”
Jackson had read a few of her books. Hell, he’d practically devoured them. Each page had been soaked in heat and tension that left his blood thrumming. Emily had a knack for weaving desire and dominance into her stories, capturing raw emotion in a way that hit a little too close to home. Every time he read one, all he could think about was her. The curve of her lips, the fire in her eyes, the way her scent lingered in his memory. After the last book, he’d forced himself to stop. Stirring up feelings he couldn’t afford to have was too dangerous.