Dark Wolf (Spirit Wild) - By Kate Douglas Page 0,10
divorce papers or his original birth certificate with his mother’s real name—one listing Aldo Xenakis as his father.
How different would things be if he’d never hunted for the man, if he’d listened to his mother’s pleas that he leave well enough alone?
She’d asked him to promise. On her death bed she’d begged him to promise he would never search for his father.
He hadn’t been able to do it. Hadn’t even had the guts to lie to her. She’d gone to her grave, telling him he was making a terrible mistake.
Some days he had to agree. But then, some days . . .
“Sebastian?”
“Yes, Father?” He glanced at his father’s reflection in the mirror and corralled his unsettling thoughts. Aldo stood in the doorway, still dressed in his everyday dark suit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, studying Sebastian as if he was some sort of exotic bug, “but I will not be attending tonight’s event after all.”
Sebastian turned slowly and watched his father, wondering what the old man was up to now.
“I’ve had some other business come up,” he said. His stare was direct, his manner as formal as always. “You will go. I understand Mr. and Mrs. Cheval will not be at the reception. Their daughter will represent them.”
Interesting. Why would that matter? Well, two could play this game . . . if a game it was.
Of course, with his father, it was always a game—or a contest—of some sort. “Which one?” Sebastian checked his cuff links as he spoke. “Don’t they have two daughters?”
“They do. The oldest girl, the one who runs Cheval International. Her name is Lily. Lily Cheval. She’s single, very intelligent. She’s also quite attractive.”
That caught his attention. Sebastian raised his head. “You’ve met her?”
Aldo nodded. “This week.”
“Why do you mention her?” He watched his father’s face. As usual, the man gave away nothing.
He shrugged, as if the question meant little to him. “You’re young. You’re not seeing anyone. I thought you might be interested.”
Sebastian raised one eyebrow. “You’re playing matchmaker? With the daughter of the most powerful Chanku alpha alive? A man you openly dislike? Why do I find that so interesting, Father? So unlike you.”
There was the slightest flicker of . . . what? Indecision? Discomfort? Now that was a rarity. He focused on Aldo’s eyes. Dark brown. So dark they almost appeared black. Nothing like his own, but their physical resemblance was still remarkable. The same tall, lean build, the pronounced widow’s peak, a certain intensity . . .
“Matchmaker?” His father chuckled. Unconvincingly. “Not at all. I merely thought you would feel more comfortable attending without me if you knew our neighbor’s daughter would be there.”
“I’ve never met her. Never had any desire to. She is, after all, the enemy, isn’t she? Or at least the enemy’s daughter.”
His father’s eyes went wide. Sebastian almost laughed. The man couldn’t look innocent no matter how hard he tried.
“I’ve never said that. Anton Cheval and I have met on more than one occasion. We are always quite civil to one another. I have issues with the species as a whole, but not any one shifter in particular.”
“I guess I misunderstood. Still, I don’t see how her presence should change things.” Sebastian turned away from his father, but he watched him in the mirror as he finished adjusting his bow tie. “I hope your business goes well.”
Aldo nodded and left the room. Sebastian watched him leave, aware of a faint buzzing in his head. He’d noticed it a lot lately. Almost as if someone pushed at his mind.
From the inside.
It wasn’t until the bedroom door closed quietly behind his father that he remembered to breathe.
Lily stared into the vanity mirror and clipped the diamond studs first to one ear and then the other. Such a nuisance, not being able to pierce her ears, but the holes closed up after every shift, and it was hardly worth the trouble.
She smoothed her hands down over the silky fabric and wondered if this was the right dress for the CEO of the largest import business in the city to wear to an event honoring her father. Dark russet shimmered over her skin. The halter top plunged deep in front and was almost nonexistent in the back. The color shifted with reflected light. Turn this way, the gown looked black, that way, russet. Yet in the direct light it was a brilliant, almost metallic copper.
Almost an exact match to her hair and close to her caramel skin. She’d chosen to wear her hair long