Page 36 of Feral Attraction
Chapter Fourteen
“So, you’re not looking for a mate,” said Rey, starting the car the next day.She glanced over her shoulder to pull out of the underground self-parking garage at the resort.She’d contacted George’s half-brother and scheduled an interview with him at his house in twenty minutes, giving him no information on the reason for the visit.
“No.Hell, no.I’ve lived this long without one.”
“How old are you?”
“Older than middle-aged for a wolf shifter.”
“What would that be in people years?”
“Funny.Two hundred and fifty-two.”
“Wow!You don’t look a day over two hundred and forty.How long do your kind live?”
“Three hundred.Maybe more.”
“That’s a long time,” she observed.
“I know it’s rude to ask a female, but how old are you?”
“It’s just a number.It doesn’t bother me.I’m thirty-four.”
“So you’re middle-aged, too.”
She took her eyes off the road to glare at him.“I am not.Early thirties is young.”
“Right.Besides, it’s just a number.”He plastered a stupid-ass grin on his face.
“Back to the whole mate thing.Why are you scared of commitment?No divorce for wolves?”
He shook his head.“No divorce for mates.You’re bonded for life.Tied.Chained.Tamed.Neutered.”
“I can see the problem.Sounds terrible.No biting.Definitely no biting.”Rey was glad to be on the same page as Con.Before she was sent to the group home with Chiara, she was raised by a cop.Her mother died when Rey was a toddler, leaving her alone with a man who brought his tough job home with him.No brothers or sisters to spread the attention, she was his focus.He wasn’t mean.He was just determined to turn her into another him.Strict.Demanding.Unloving.
When he was killed in the line of duty, she was left with only his shield.As an adult, she joined the force and eventually became a detective—all before she turned thirty-four.So she agreed with Con.No chains.No man demanding how she should live.
She glanced at Con.But if she did want the chains ...No.
Rey slowed the car and turned onto a residential street.Big front lawns.Stately houses.Long driveways.
Con pointed to a yellow two-story clapboard.“There.Nice place.What’s he do for a living?”
“Real estate.”
“Must be good at it.”
They parked in the long driveway and took the cobblestone walkway to the door.
Their ring was answered by a woman who was wiping her hands on an apron.“Come in.You’re expected.”
She led them into a sitting room that looked out over a pool and gardens behind the house.Rey sat beside Con on the sofa.“I think he does very well.”She stroked the plush, yellow-flowered cushions.
She and Con rose to their feet when a tall, slim man came into the room, his hand outstretched.“Anton Lasky.”
Rey introduced herself and Con, showing her badge.
