is no way your mate could cheat on you. We would rather gnaw off our own paw than harm our mate. All of this sounds like a very human problem. As in, it is not a shifter thing that is coming between you two, but rather some baggage. Maybe you need to tell him that it makes you worry when he gets secretive because of your ex. He will understand.”
“But—he is a Jensen. Rush Jensen.”
Gwen’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Chantal. His family history comes with its own busload of baggage. You need to clear the air with him. It will all be all right. You will see.”
“Okay. Thanks, Gwen. Now, if we can go back to being a designer and bride-to-be and ignore the fact that I was just highly unprofessional, I would really appreciate it.”
Gwen waved her off. “You literally saved me from a meltdown the night of the masquerade. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my friend. We’re all just human, you know?”
“I’m going to make you the best dress that has ever existed.”
“Dresses,” Gwen corrected.
As it turned out, designing two wedding dresses for Gwen Marsdale turned into having a full buffet of possible dinner options for what was sure to be an exceptionally elaborate wedding.
Chantal had tried not to be disheartened when Rush’s text had come in. Busy with some work stuff. Sorry to cancel so last minute. It had been curt and short. Not at all how he usually was with her.
Before Chantal headed home, Gwen had assured her that it had to be nothing, but that lousy sensation in the pit of her stomach was back with a vengeance. She parked her car in its usual spot and walked toward the elevator. She was distracted, busy making all kinds of plans for the wedding dress, and for what she would say to Rush next time she saw him.
Had she not been so in her head, she might have noticed the large man stepping out in front of her.
She might even have noticed his blue baseball cap. But it was too late.
He knocked her on the head, and she fell sideways, unconscious.
Chapter Eighteen
Chantal
There was something sticky on her face. It was in her left eye. But that was nothing compared to the pain in her head. She slowly blinked her eyes open. Her head was full of ringing.
“Hey, yo, Spike, the bitch is awake.”
It took Chantal all of two seconds to become acutely aware that she was in danger. She couldn’t move. Her hands were tied, and she was in a strange sort of room that reminded her of turn-of-the-century factories.
A man’s face, complete with a long scar on the side of his face, filled her vision.
“So, you’re the human who’s a Jensen mate. You don’t smell like him much.” He turned to the other man. “You sure you got the right one?”
“Yeah, the other human, the actual hot one, left with the other brother last night. This is Rush’s mate.”
Spike turned back toward her. She would have loved nothing more than to move away, but she couldn’t. She was stuck to the chair. Chantal wasn’t an idiot. She was quickly putting things together. She had been kidnapped from the parking garage on her way home. It had something to do with Rush, but she didn’t know what.
She had to guess that these men were shifters. Wolves? Maybe. Bears? Possible. That meant they had good senses. Their noses could catch a lie.
She turned her chin up, narrowing her eyes toward her captors. “You cannot go around treating people this way. Let me go right this instant. Who do you think you are?”
The leader and his cronies laughed as if she had said the most hysterical thing ever. She tried to work her hands through the zip-ties around them, but it was no use. They were on tightly. Maybe if they had been tied in her lap, instead of behind her back, she could have tried to chew through them. She vaguely recalled a trick that could cut through the ties, but she was sure she needed a shoelace.
She was shit out of luck. Her flats didn’t have shoelaces. More than that, she was actually missing a damn shoe. The stupid slip-on looked great, but apparently, it wasn’t the right footwear to be kidnapped in.
“Do you have any idea who I am?” The sneering man asked the question with so much smugness, Chantal sneered right back at him.
“No. That is kind of why I asked.”
“You’ve got a