His Winter Mate

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  EPILOGUE

  His Winter Mate: A Macconwood Pack Novella

  From The Grazi Kelly Universe

  by C.D. Gorri

  Extended Edition

  Copyright 2017 C.D. Gorri

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, places, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either part of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights are reserved. No part of this book is to be reproduced, scanned, downloaded, printed, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of any materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To my readers, thank you!

  Title Page

  Synopsis

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Connect

  Other Works

  Tagline:

  Can a wounded Wolf find love the second time around?

  Synopsis:

  Mike Bellamy lost his wife and unborn child years ago, but his heart still bears the scar. His Wolf is demanding he take a mate, but the taciturn bar owner is determined to ignore the command.

  Claire Freemont is the VP of Marketing for Lane Liquors Corporation. She thought she was beyond errand-boy duties with her new position, but she finds herself stuck having to check on a campaign at the one place she’d rather avoid The Thirsty Dog. A severe winter storm shuts down the local roads and highways, and Claire is stranded!

  Will Mike turn her out into the cold or will things heat up between them?

  PROLOGUE

  The Summer Bite Launch Party at The Thirsty Dog back in June…

  Claire sat down on one of the black, leather-covered stools that lined the main bar. Her boss had just finished his speech, and the campaign for Summer Bite had been aired on the several large, flat-screen TVs that were strategically placed in optimal locations around The Thirsty Dog’s three bar room set-up. The latest edition to Bite: Seasons was an unmitigated success and Claire could finally breathe.

  It had been a long couple of weeks, trying to perfect the advertisement for the summer inspired artisan whiskey to her boss’ strict specifications. Mason Lane was a good boss, but he could be a little demanding at times. She had to admit that he’d been more pleasant to be around since he’d married and announced he was a father.

  The new Mrs. Lane, a striking woman named Abigail, was kind and honest. There was something about her that Claire couldn’t quite pin down, but her instincts told her the woman was a friend. At any rate, she and the little boy, who looked like a carbon copy of Mr. Lane, made her boss smile and that was all she’d needed to know.

  Claire Freemont had worked for Mason Lane for the past seven years. First, she worked as his administrative assistant, but for the past eighteen months, she’d been working as his VP of Marketing. A promotion she’d have killed for. Well, not really.

  She had wanted the job though. When he’d offered it to her, she’d been so excited, she practically went through the roof. She had an MBA with a concentration in marketing and was finally able to utilize her education and talents with her new position. It wasn’t easy, but she hadn’t expected it to be.

  The high stress position was taking its toll on her emotionally and physically. As a Werewolf, she needed to make time to exert her energy in order to keep her Wolf happy and healthy. But lately, she just didn’t have the time. She was tense and restless, and no amount of whiskey was going to take that edge off. That didn’t stop her from tossing back her tumbler and emptying the smooth contents down her throat.

  They were serving Summer Bite exclusively that evening. It was the main ingredient in a variety of cocktails, but she’d always liked her whiskey straight. Her father had been something of a whiskey connoisseur. He’d even collected various brands aging casks over the years and kept them in his shed. The charred oak containers were a treasure of scents for a Werewolf, and she’d loved them all.

  She’d learned at his feet to appreciate the bold amber liquid. Over the years that appreciation had developed while she discovered her own preferences and tastes. Werewolves did not get drunk easily and her father in no way abused his love of the golden liquor.

  No, Claire had nothing, but happy memories about the man. After she’d finished college, she wondered what she would do with herself and was delighted when a new company had taken over the failing Vicente distillery. She’d applied for the position of administrative assistant to the president of the new company, Mason Lane, and got the job.

  Since then, she’d dedicated her life to her career. She was happy, fulfilled, but also lonely. She rolled her shoulders and tapped her short clean fingernails on the highly polished pine bar. The Thirsty Dog was immaculate as always.

  The owner had a real love for the place. It was evident in the care and precision with which the establishment was run. The music turned back on full blast, and people resumed dancing. Claire sighed. All she wanted to do was kick off her high heels and take about a month off.

  She shook her head and laughed softly. As if. Where would she go on vacation? She had no family left and few friends. Her best friend, Winifred, was still practically a newlywed and wouldn’t be inclined to leave her husband. Besides, she had work. Maybe she’d be able to run with the Pack on the next full moon.

  That might help her shake off the emptiness she’d been feeling lately. Maybe she should try using a dating app or service? That’s what she needed. A good man to chase away her blues. Yeah right, Claire, what is it, 1956?

  As she pondered her single state, a tanned hand came to rest in front of hers. She looked up into a pair of familiar eyes the color of steel. Oh boy, she had to work overtime to hide her reaction to the taciturn Werewolf who stared at her from the other side of the bar. You better stay there, where you’re safe, Mike Bellamy, she warned silently.

  It was something of a personal joke, the rash thoughts that went through her mind whenever he was near. She’d once made the mistake of asking the bar owner out on a date when she’d first met him on the job several years ago. She’d been struck dumb by his physical appearance. Handsome did not begin to describe the sexy Werewolf.

  He’d been married then, but she hadn’t known that. It still struck her as odd that his scent hadn’t announced it to her, the way it did with other mated pairs. Anyway, she’d been sent to deliver some crates of Bite. Like the newbie she was, she’d worn a flirty summer dress and high-heeled sandals.

  He’d glared at her attire, but didn’t comment on the fact that she’d never be able to make it up and down the stairs to his cellar with crates of whiskey in her hands. She hadn’t realized that she’d have to make deliveries a part of her job in the early days.

  She’d simply found him good-looking and her Wolf approved of him. But he was an older Werewolf, and therefore, much more ol
d-fashioned. She’d insulted him with her question and was scathing in his reply.

  “Married men don’t play with little girls pretending to be women in high-heels.”

  Ever since then, he’d hated her. She’d apologized for her error a dozen or more times since, though her apologies fell on deaf ears. Still, she’d tried to make the best of it seeing as how Claire had been forced into his company time and again for work. Bite whiskey always launched new products from The Thirsty Dog. It was a tradition now.

  He’d mocked her for her faux pas and let her know exactly what she could do with her indecent proposal. As if she’d asked him to strip her down on his bar in broad daylight or something. Geez. She’d only asked for a date. He’d made certain she didn’t forget how he’d shot her down the first few times she’d dealt with him after she’d made her mistake.

  “I hope you’re not going to come here in a bikini next time. This is a place of business, and you are representing my friend’s company. I won’t have you parade around here in inappropriate attire.”

  Claire had not only been insulted, but she’d been angry. Her dress was just fine for the office. She’d had a nice little linen blazer that she’d worn over it in the air-conditioned building, but it had been warm outside that day. That was why she’d taken it off.

  Not that she’d have explained that to him after he’d said those terrible things to her. One of his employees at the time had heard her. Another Werewolf named Winifred Castillo. Everyone called her Fred. She was married now and didn’t work there anymore, but she’d stood up for Claire that day.

  She’d waved off her boss and began lugging the crates in with her. Claire’d been near to tears even though she’d worn jeans and boots after that first day.

  Fred later explained that her boss’ wife was pregnant, and he’d been tense with worry. Werewolf pregnancies were often hard on both mother and child. After his wife died, things had only gotten worse. She always chalked it up to him being mad with grief. She’d felt bad for him and had let him take out his sour mood on her. But no more.

  He stood in front of her and narrowed his hard, gray eyes as he took in her upswept hair and the tight black tank dress she wore. She wanted to squirm under his stark appraisal, but that would show weakness. She may be a less dominant Wolf than he, but she was not a pushover.

  “Refill?” He poured another shot into her glass before she could answer.

  “Thanks,” she said and took the offered glass. Electricity sizzled between them as her fingers accidentally brushed over his.

  He’d heard the hiss of breath that escaped her lips. He’d even smirked at her helpless reaction to him. Damn him. He walked away, and she threw back the shot and let it slide down her throat. And damn me too.

  A couple of hours later, the party was over. Everyone had left the bar, and Claire was left collecting the life-sized cut-outs and banners she’d had made up for the event. She’d finally given in to her exhaustion and kicked off her high-heels as she went about her work.

  She hadn’t seen the broken glass on the floor, but she yelped as a thick shard pierced the tender flesh on the bottom of her left foot. She dropped the banner and gripped her foot with both hands to staunch the bleeding. Fuck, it hurt.

  There was more glass on the floor, and she didn’t know how she was going to hop over it effectively without stabbing her other foot. She was just about hysterical trying to figure a way out of her predicament when she felt big, warm hands close over her arms.

  Before she could turn around, she was lifted off her feet. Mike. His scent was as familiar as her own. It was a deep earthy fragrance with a touch of fresh pine and spice. She wanted to roll around in it. Her Wolf too.

  She felt her beast’s approval deep in her mind’s eye all the way down to her toes at his easy handling of her person. He didn’t look at her as he stalked through the darkened bar. He carried her as if she didn’t weigh a thing and didn’t move to put her down until he reached his private office.

  “Damn fool thing to do, going around a bar without shoes! Did you know we get about a dozen broken glasses a night in here? The glass is impossible to see even with all the lights on because of the dark floors.”

  His anger was something she was familiar with, but the deliberately slow and careful ministrations of him attending her foot were an unknown. She could ignore the pain as he worked with tweezers and antibacterial soap to pick out the broken glass and disinfect the wound, but she couldn’t do a damn thing about the way her heart was all but beating her to death at his proximity.

  He’d heard it too. She didn’t even have to ask. Hot tears fell from her eyes as he pulled the last piece of glass from her skin. He dropped it into the paper towel he’d been holding in the other hand.

  He sprayed some wound disinfectant on the cut and wiped it gently. She’d already started to heal, the itchy sensations of her body repairing itself made her want to scratch at the Band-Aid he’d just placed on her sole, but she refrained. It’d be over soon. Werewolves healed quickly, thank goodness. She made to move off the desk, but those same warm, strong hands held her in place.

  “I can’t imagine that still hurts, so tell me, why the tears?”

  “Thanks, Mike, for your help, but, uh, I need to go,” she couldn’t look at him.

  He’d see how she felt and then all the work she’d done to have a business relationship with him would’ve been for nothing! She wasn’t just an errand girl anymore, she was the VP of Marketing for Lane Liquors Corporation. There was no way she was letting herself look the fool in front of Mike Bellamy! Not again.

  She had to get this tall, lean Wolf with his gorgeous complexion, steel gray eyes, dark hair, and salt and pepper eyebrows out of her mind. There was no future there for her. Not with him.

  She knew he was older than her, but he didn’t look it. In fact, he seemed to look younger just then when he was watching her. She was thirty but looked like she was in her early twenties.

  Werewolves could live a very, very long time. In fact, Mike didn’t have a single gray hair when she’d first met him. Nowadays his facial hair, eyebrows and beard, were lightly sprinkled with grays. The hair on his head was still dark brown, almost black in fact.

  She couldn’t help her attraction to him. It wasn’t her fault he made her weak at the knees. She’d never been insecure in her looks either. She was tall and thin, athletically inclined, as most Wolves were. Her long, blonde hair was shiny and thick, and she had light blue eyes and full pink lips. Claire knew she was attractive.

  But for some reason, she couldn’t quite explain, Mike Bellamy made her feel like an ugly duckling. Her body was throbbing under his watchful stare, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. His finger under her chin forced her to look at him.

  She was trembling all over. His jaw was set hard in his handsome face as his fingers squeezed the skin where he held her face. He was a Wolf, he knew all about her attraction. She was ashamed and embarrassed. How could she have so little self-control?

  “I wonder,” he whispered and suddenly, to her shock, he’d bent his head and pressed his hard lips against hers.

  Claire couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. All she knew was that the impossible was happening to her. Mike Bellamy’s lips had touched hers with an almost fevered need. He moaned and said something, she couldn’t quite understand, and then suddenly, he had her pinned down on the desk, his large body looming over hers.

  “It’s like an explosion when I touch you. Like fireworks. Damn you, and damn me too,” he’d echoed her earlier thoughts, but she hadn’t cared a fig. She hadn’t even registered his words since he’d been pressed against her. His long, hard body ground into hers, and he kissed her hungrily.

  It was better than she’d ever dreamed. By the time he raised his head, they’d both been visibly shaken. Their clothes were disheveled, and they were breathing like marathon runners. Mike had looked at her with a blank expression. He’d looked at her for a long time, then he’d left the ro
om.

  Claire Freemont had gathered her belongings and left The Thirsty Dog determined to get Mike Bellamy out of her life and her heart. No matter what it took.

  CHAPTER 1

  “What do you mean, engaged? To who?”

  “I didn’t say we were engaged, I said we were thinking about it! And I met him online. A new dating app,” Claire answered her friend, Winifred Falk, formerly Castillo, between bites of her salmon avocado roll.

  She loved sushi. The friends had agreed to meet at the new Asian fusion restaurant on Main Street in Maccon City, NJ. Roll Over, was small and clean, and the food was great.

  Claire took a sip from her mango-passion bubble tea and sighed. She knew she’d have to answer more questions, but she shook her head before Fred could start in on her. Her happily married friend was also a Werewolf, and she could almost hear her questions before she voiced them.

  “The app was designed by Graves Enterprises. You have heard of our very own Wolf Guard, Randall Graves, and his software development company?”

  “Of course!” Fred agreed. The Macconwood Pack was the most powerful Wolf Pack in the Western hemisphere and the most technologically advanced. The thanks for that went mostly to one of the Alpha’s Wolf Guard, Randall Graves. He was an absolute genius.

  “He’s married now, right?” Fred asked.

  “Yes, his wife is a very nice woman, Tulla is her name. I met them at an event for Lane Liquors a few months ago.”

  “How is your job by the way?”

  “Well, we’ve got the next product in our Seasons line, Winter Bite, all ready for its debut. Thank God, I am not the liasion between Lane Liquors and The Thirsty Dog anymore. I happily relinquished that job to David, Mr. Lane’s assistant.”

  “Oh yeah, how’s he working out.”

  “He’s still new, but getting there.”

  “Alright Claire, spill, who is this guy?”

  “He’s a Wolf too, new to the Pack. He comes from Russia. His name is Igor. Anyway, he’s looking for a wife to-”