Alpha in a Fur Coat Read online

“Yeah, how about Chicago Cut Steakhouse? I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “Sure. See you there. I’m intrigued.”

  “Yeah, well. You should be. You’re not going to believe the day I’ve had. See you soon.”

  Grant hung up the phone and started shutting down his work computer.

  A few minutes later, he boarded the elevator to head down to the building lobby. Thankfully, the elevator was empty, and he laughed out loud. He had only signed the non-disclosure agreement a few hours ago, but he was already about to break it by talking to Storm. Not that it mattered. As soon as these shifter eye scanners were detected and unveiled, he was pretty sure his days at the firm were over.

  The clock was already ticking.

  Chapter Three

  Storm stared across the table at Grant with her mouth hanging open. She knew this wasn’t the most attractive look in the world, but she couldn’t keep the shock she was feeling inside from spilling over onto her face.

  When Grant had asked her to dinner, she had almost declined. She’d had a feeling that he just wanted to make a romantic pass at her, and she hadn’t wanted to encourage that. How wrong she had been. Nothing Grant had said in the last thirty minutes had anything to do with romance. Instead, he had just detailed how he’d been put on a case at his firm that involved Hook Labs, the company developing the shifter-detecting eye scanners.

  “Wow,” Storm said, finally finding her voice. “Imagine how those bigwigs in suits would have reacted if they knew you had the information they wanted.”

  Grant actually chuckled, breaking the tension that had been hanging in the air. “Yeah, that thought definitely crossed my mind. I’m happy they’re pursuing this lawsuit, though. The whole thing is going to be a waste of time and money for them. And it was pretty interesting reading through the memos on the case and getting an inside look at our enemy. But there’s one thing I learned from the memos that worries me quite a bit…”

  Storm raised a questioning eyebrow at Grant as his voice trailed off. He looked to his right and left, making sure no one at an adjacent table was paying attention to their conversation.

  “Hook Labs is bringing in reinforcements,” Grant said.

  “Reinforcements?” Storm asked, right before slicing off a piece of her steak and sticking it in her mouth. She savored the tender meat as she waited for Grant to reply. He took his time, staring up at the ceiling for several long moments. He had furrowed his brow deeply, giving his face a troubled expression. Despite her resolve to keep things purely platonic between them, Storm couldn’t keep herself from admiring his chiseled jaw line. His short, dark hair was neatly styled, and he looked extra handsome under the soft lighting of the restaurant. He had taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, showing off the way his broad chest and sculpted biceps pressed against the confines of his stiff dress shirt. Storm looked away and picked up her glass of wine. If she wanted to keep this bear at a distance, she had to stop staring at him like a love-struck schoolgirl.

  “Yeah, reinforcements,” Grant said, finally looking back at Storm. He seemed oblivious to the fact that she had just been ogling him. “There was a long memo detailing all the failures of the current team of scientists who are working on the scanners. Hook Labs apparently pressured the Mayor to get this project on the radar of the President. You know the Mayor and President are good friends, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard,” Storm said, cracking a smile. She worked as an low-level assistant in the Mayor’s office, and often heard her coworkers blabbing about meeting the President the last time he’d been in Chicago.

  Grant nodded. “Well, the Mayor apparently reached out to the President earlier this week. The President is interested in the scanner, and is putting pressure on some of the nation’s best scientists to come out to Chicago within the next week.”

  “Uh-oh. Looks like Juno’s little ruse might be up,” Storm said. Juno had been doing her best to use her position as a research assistant to secretly screw up the scanner development rather than help it along. When a new round of more experienced scientists took over the project, though, they would probably catch on to Juno’s tricks pretty quickly.

  “Yeah, well, it looks like all of our little ruses might be up soon,” Grant said. “I have a feeling that once those new scientists arrive, things are going to move forward quickly with the scanners. The information I have on bear shifter DNA would be helpful for Hook Labs to have, sure. But in the end, it won’t take long for a team of well-funded scientists to replicate the research and figure things out. I’d say we have less than three months until the scanners are functioning properly. Maybe less. And you know as well as I do that once those things are up and running, it’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose.”

  Storm fell silent and looked down at her plate, trying to process the weight of what Grant was saying. She had built a life here in Chicago. Their whole group of shifter friends had done the same. She was comfortable, enjoying a good job and the anonymity that being in a large city afforded to her. She didn’t want to think about all of that changing, but she didn’t have much of a choice now. The end of this charmed existence was looming, and it was time to start planning for the worst. As soon as the shifter scanners were working properly, there was going to be a massive witch hunt for shifters. Public hysteria would be easy enough to stir up, especially when the President himself thought the “threat” of shifters needed to be addressed. Staying in Chicago after the public discovered shifters would be foolhardy.

  “What next?” Storm asked, looking back up at Grant with the desperate hope that he had some sort of brilliant plan to get them all out of this mess. “Will you go back to Alaska?”

  Grant’s eyes darkened, and he laughed bitterly. “No. My dad still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving the clan to become a lawyer. He thinks he failed at raising me, and that I have no sense of duty. I’m not interested in slinking back home. But, honestly, Storm, I don’t think Alaska is enough to save us, anyway. This threat is bigger than anything shifters have ever faced before. The annihilation will start in Chicago, sure. But it’s going to stretch much further than that. It’s only a matter of time before the President sends the national guard to Alaska with the scanners as well. And with the way technology is these days, it’s not easy to just hide out, even in the wilderness of Alaska.”

  Storm felt a knot growing in the pit of her stomach. “So what are we supposed to do? We can’t just sit here and wait for them to start killing us off.”

  “No, we definitely aren’t going to stay here like a bunch of sitting ducks,” Grant said. “But I’m not quite sure what the solution is. I think we need to all put our heads together on this and figure out a solid plan of action. And we need to do it soon. Time is running out.”

  Storm nodded, then reached for her glass of wine and took a long sip while trying to organize her thoughts. “We should see when everyone is available and have a meeting sooner rather than later. I have a feeling that things are going to get really crazy really fast.”

  Grant sat up straight in his chair and then reached down for his briefcase to fish out his phone. “Yup, you’re absolutely right about that. Why are we still sitting here debating? Let’s get something scheduled.”

  Grant fiddled with his phone for a second, then spoke to it with an authoritative voice. “Computer, compose group text.”

  “Who would you like to text?” the phone responded.

  “The Fur Coats,” Grant replied.

  Storm sighed with resignation as Grant began dictating the text. Their group of friends, cheekily nicknamed the Fur Coat Society, consisted of six bear shifters. All of them had moved to Chicago from Alaska, and, although they hailed from different clans, they had all known each other as children. Their parents had been close, brought together decades ago by the need to fight against common enemies. It sounded like it wasn’t going to be much longer before it was this generation’s turn to fight.

  Grant’s phone sta
rted pinging with replies from their friends. He read silently through the incoming texts, and then looked up at Storm.

  “Seems like tomorrow evening works well for everyone. Is that okay with you?” he asked.

  Storm nodded. She didn’t even need to look at her calendar. Chances are she didn’t have anything important going on. Besides, nothing was more important right now than meeting with her friends. If they didn’t figure out a way to stop the eye scanner threat, life as she knew it was over, anyway.

  Grant finished texting back their friends, then looked up at Storm with concern in his eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked. “Your steak is getting cold, and you’ve barely touched your mashed potatoes.”

  Storm’s heart did a little flip-flop of pleasure at the caring tone in Grant’s voice. It felt good to have someone worry a little about her for once, and she was tempted to play up the moment to get a little more attention from him. But she pushed that temptation away as quickly as it came. She didn’t want to become one of “those girls” who thrived on getting a man to worry about her. There were bigger issues to be concerned about right now. Besides, how many times did she have to remind herself that a romance with Grant Ray was not an option?

  “I’m fine,” Storm said quickly, flashing Grant a convincing smile. “But I have to admit that this whole conversation has made me lose my appetite a little bit. Maybe we should just get going.”

  Grant nodded, and signaled the waiter to let him know they were done.

  “I agree. It’s been a long day, and I’m really ready to get home and get out of this suit,” he said.

  He held Storm’s gaze as he spoke, and once again the blazing desire in his eyes was unmistakable. Storm quickly looked down at her hands and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. Life as she knew it was ending, and this wasn’t the time to be thinking about romance.

  So why the hell was her heart beating its way right out of her chest?

  Chapter Four

  Fifteen minutes later, Storm was sitting in a hovertaxi next to Grant, still trying to even out her breathing. She had tried to convince him to take a separate taxi, since their condos were in completely different neighborhoods. But Grant, ever the gentleman, had insisted on seeing her home. As their self-driving hovertaxi rose high above the city of Chicago and headed for the flyway above what used to be Lake Shore Drive, Storm stared out the window intently to avoid making eye contact with Grant.

  She felt like such a jumble of emotions, and part of her wanted to just leave Chicago now, before things got any crazier. She wanted to remember this city as it was right at this moment—beautiful and teeming with life, with the vast majority of its citizens completely unaware that shifters were walking among them. She hated the creeping sense of dread she felt every time she thought about the eye scanners. She racked her brain, trying to come up with a plausible way to bring the scanner development to a halt.

  But she knew that it was only a matter of time before the scanners were completed. Technology moved at lightning speed, and, with the best scientists in the country now working on the project, it wouldn’t be long before the government announced a plan to identify and get rid of shifters. Storm bit her lip hard, trying to push away the feeling of bitterness flooding her heart. She knew that allowing anger and bitterness to overtake her emotions would only cloud her judgment and waste valuable energy. But it was hard to maintain a positive attitude with so many chips stacked against you.

  She had never done anything to hurt anyone. She was a valuable, contributing member of society, working hard at her job in the Mayor’s office. And yet, she knew that as soon as she was identified as a shifter, many of those around her would instantly see her as a monster. Storm took a deep breath in and let it out in a long, frustrated sigh.

  “You okay?” Grant asked. Concern once again etched his face, and Storm felt even more frustrated as she looked over at him. Why couldn’t he see that her heart was jumbled up enough as it was? She didn’t want to deal with a romance on top of everything else right now.

  “I’m fine,” Storm said sharply, grateful that the hovertaxi had started descending to a parking spot in front of her condo building. She didn’t look at Grant again, choosing instead to continue staring out the window as the hovertaxi came to a complete stop and the computer announced that they had arrived.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Storm said quickly as she reached down to grab her purse. She still didn’t look at Grant. She didn’t want to make eye contact with him again tonight.

  But before she could escape the taxi and head for the relative safety of her condo, she felt a strong hand on her arm. As soon as Grant’s skin touched hers, she felt a shock of electricity run through her body. Instantly, she felt herself torn between the desire to turn and yell at him and the desire to turn and kiss him.

  She did neither. Instead, she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. She sat stubbornly in silence, waiting for him to explain himself.

  “Storm, you’re not okay. I’ve never seen you look this dejected before.”

  Storm tried to draw her arm back, but Grant’s hand gripped it firmly.

  “Well, of course I’m not okay,” she spat out. “Life as we know it is about to end. Everything I’ve worked so hard to build up here—my job, my condo, our group of friends—it’s all under attack. Who knows where we are going to end up? Who knows if we’ll even survive? How can you act so calm?”

  “Storm,” Grant said, locking his eyes with hers. The desire and heat in his expression took Storm’s breath away. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

  “How can you promise that?” Storm asked, exasperated. She desperately needed to get out of this hovertaxi and away from Grant. She just wanted to be alone and have time to sort through all of the emotions she was feeling right now.

  “I promise you, Storm,” Grant said. “I know we’re facing some big threats right now. But shifters have faced big threats before. We’ll find a way to get through this, just like we always do. And I promise you that you’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

  That was it. Storm had to get out of there. She forcefully pulled her arm away from Grant’s grip, and, this time, he let her go.

  “I’m not yours to take care of, Grant,” she hissed. Then she hopped out of the hovertaxi and made a beeline for her condo building, careful not to look back at the man who seemed so insistent on making a play for her heart.

  * * *

  Grant swore as he stepped into his own condo fifteen minutes later. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the room, as though the answer to all of his problems might somehow magically jump out at him. But the only thing staring back at him was an empty living room. He made his way to the liquor cabinet, and barked out an order.

  “Computer, one Jameson reserve, neat.”

  “Coming right up, Grant,” the computer cheerily responded. A whirring sound came from inside the liquor cabinet as the computer poured a glass of whiskey for him. The door to the cabinet opened and a shiny glass shelf slid out with the whiskey on it. Grant grabbed it and gulped it down, then set the glass down on the shelf again.

  “Computer, one more Jameson reserve, neat,” Grant ordered.

  After a few more moments of whirring, the computer delivered a refill for Grant. This time, he took the glass to the living room to sip it slowly. He sank down onto his couch, which automatically adjusted the temperature to ensure he stayed cool. Despite his comfortable surroundings, though, he felt antsy and uneasy.

  “Computer, dim lights,” he said. The lights in the living room softened, and Grant felt a little bit better. But it would take more than softer lighting for him to feel better about the day he’d had.

  He was angry with himself for the way he’d handled things with Storm. He’d been dancing around his feelings for her for so long, and for some reason this week had just seemed like the right time to show her his hand. He’d been dropping hints, and he knew she had caught o
n to his meaning. The trouble was, the stronger his hints had become, the more she had pulled back. That was a hard pill for Grant to swallow. As an alpha’s kid, he’d pretty much gotten everything he wanted his whole life. And he knew that, if he had stayed in Alaska, he would have had his choice of mate. No shifter in her right mind would refuse to date a future alpha. The rewards of being the alpha’s mate were too great.

  But he wasn’t in Alaska, and Storm wasn’t impressed by his alpha genes. Why would she be? She had alpha blood running through her own veins, too. Grant sighed and took another long sip of his whiskey. Leave it to him to fall for the one girl who wasn’t interested in him.

  Leave it to him to have the worst timing, too. Why would Storm want to start a relationship right now, with the entire future of the shifter population at stake? Grant frowned as he remembered Storm’s indignant expression when she pulled her hand away from his in the hovertaxi. She was right. She didn’t need him to take care of her. She was damn strong on her own.

  And that was part of the trouble. Her strength and independence turned Grant on. Thinking about the fiery darts in her eyes when she left the hovertaxi caused a stiffening between his legs. The more she pulled away, the more Grant wanted her. His bear growled and writhed within him, whispering insistently to his heart.

  Claim her.

  Grant took another sip of whiskey. Storm had become his obsession. But what good was an obsession when you couldn’t act on it? She had made it abundantly clear tonight that she didn’t appreciate his advances. He could keep trying, but he knew deep down that the more he chased after her, the more she would push him away. His head told him that the best option for now was to lay low, and get the whole “future of shifters” thing figured out first. But his heart told him that he should pursue her relentlessly, because if everything really went to hell, he might not have another chance.

  Grant let out a loud, primal roar, and threw his glass across the room in a fit of anger. It shattered, sending shards of glass in several directions. Moments later, his robotic vacuum calmly whirred across the floor to the mess, sucking up every last piece of glass. Within a minute, the mess was cleaned up as though it had never happened.