Chapter 2

And blow his cover. Which would be a bad thing because open shots at Aden Richter did not happen every day. In fact, they didn’t happen at all. Darren almost couldn’t believe this was happening now. Not until the man in question walked through the front door.

Correction. Strutted.

Aden Richter’s costume wasn’t nearly as elaborate as other guests’, though the black leather pants riding low on his hips had probably cost a small fortune. The glossy material looked painted on, molding over long legs and powerful thighs. Darren gulped at his drink when he saw the obvious bulge and skipped his gaze farther up, over the bare torso. The only thing Aden wore above his waist was a knot of four gold and black necklaces and a guitar slung over his back. Every chiseled muscle was there for the world to see and appreciate. And there were a lot of them.

He didn’t look like any book dealer Darren had ever seen before, though he did look more than dangerous. The gleam in his clear blue eyes as they swept over the room probably sent more than one pulse racing, not just Darren’s. The man had even refrained from shaving. Nothing oozed sex more than the promise of stubble burn, and while it might have been part of the rock star costume, he had the distinct feeling it was part of the real package.

Darren suddenly wished he had more intel on the guy. It wasn’t enough to know the man found and sold rare books for a living, or that his rich friends had pulled his ass out of the political fire on two separate occasions, burying crimes that should have been splashed across the headlines for the world to be warned. It wasn’t enough to know he owned a large reserve outside of town with more electronic surveillance and security than the president got. It wasn’t even enough to know the man was a werewolf. Now that he saw Aden Richter in the flesh, Darren’s gut screamed it was going to take more finesse to get this particular job done, finesse that required a few more intimate details.

He only had tonight. If Aden Richter still breathed at sunrise, things were going to get a hell of a lot worse.

It was a good thing he was supposed to shadow Aden, because he couldn’t stop staring. But he had to do a lot more than simply gawk at the target. He needed to lure Aden away from the crowd. He wasn’t sure what Aden found attractive, but that didn’t matter. He was a werewolf, oversexed and lust-crazed by nature. An alluring, willing morsel would be too good to pass up. The pheromones Jasmine had provided would be enough to mask his masculine scent, or at least disguise it until it was too late for Aden to do something about it.

“Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” Darren tested his tone and vocal inflection, trying to find the right register without sounding too obviously fake. He couldn’t help but think he had come this far just to be ruined by his deep voice.

The party’s host, a city official by the name of Giessen, stopped Aden from joining the full throng in the main room. Laughing, Giessen made him turn around in order to show off the guitar, which positioned Aden to face Darren’s corner directly. Darren stood too far away to hear what was being said, but it was just as well because his blood roared in his ears. He wasn’t ready to be noticed. He needed more time. Every second that ticked by, he expected it to happen. He was in the man’s line of sight, for Christ’s sake. But apparently Aden was too distracted by Giessen’s comments to focus farther away than his host, and he angled sideways as soon as Giessen’s inspection was done.

Silently, Darren exhaled. The moment he did, Aden’s smile faded, and his head turned back in Darren’s direction.

This time, Aden’s gaze honed right in on him.

His pulse doubled, and he knew Aden would hear it. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. A racing heart, a spike of adrenaline in the blood, the dilation of his pupils, all would send clear signals to Aden’s heightened senses. Any other night, he would not reveal himself as prey. But now he nervously petted the hair hanging down over his ears, and his eyes darted from Aden’s face and back again. Now he just hoped the werewolf liked easy prey when he saw it.

His hopes plummeted when Aden followed Giessen through the double doors leading to the dining room and the bar. At least it gave him a few more minutes to practice on his voice.

Slipping around the edge of the foyer, Darren downed the rest of his drink so he’d have an excuse to approach the bar. When he stepped into the dining room, however, panic drew him to a halt. Aden was nowhere in sight. Neither was Giessen. The patio doors were splayed wide where the party spilled into the gardens, and a single door at the rear of the room led to what was likely the kitchen. Aden could have gone through either of them. If Darren chose incorrectly, he might lose the target altogether.