Home > Fated (Pyte/Sentinel #5)(11)

Fated (Pyte/Sentinel #5)(11)
Author: R.L. Mathewson

“You were attacked?” he asked, looking her over once again. Well, that would explain her disheveled appearance, he supposed.

 

Her eyes narrowed on him once again. “Stop pretending that you didn't do this, Drew. Just fix it and stay the hell out of my life!” she snapped, but he wasn't listening.

 

He was too busy wondering why someone would use humans to go after an Alpha's mate. It really didn't make sense, but then again neither did being mated to the bane of his existence.

 

“Are you staying in town?” he asked as he returned his attention to more important matters. How the hell was he going to manage running the club when he was short staffed?

 

“Did you even hear a word that I just said?” Kara demanded with a cute little growl.

 

“No, not really,” he murmured, wondering if he should take a risk and contact one of the temporary staff agencies, but he didn't like the idea of too many humans working in his club. There was too much at stake to risk a human seeing something that they were never meant to see and they definitely would tonight. Maybe if he kept them away from the staffroom, backroom, and the VIP areas he kept just for shifters, vampires and demons he could use them, but that meant stretching his staff too thin and leaving the human staff to deal with the club itself and that wouldn't work. They wouldn't know the clientele or how to handle a pushy shifter.

 

Fuck.

 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

 

“I'm going to explain this again, slowly this time so that you can keep up,” Kara bit out tightly. “You had me fired, my bank accounts emptied, I've been evicted from my apartment and everything in it has either been stolen or trashed. Thanks to you, I don't have a penny to my name and I'm wearing everything that I own right now.”

 

He looked up and frowned at the pissed off woman standing in front of him. “You have nothing?”

 

“Yes!” she practically hissed.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Oh, this was too perfect, he thought, not bothering to bite back the wicked grin that he knew would undoubtedly piss her off.

 

“What are you smiling about?” she demanded, looking close to lunging for his throat again.

 

The woman definitely had anger issues, he thought with an inward sigh.

 

This was perfect, almost too perfect. Granted, they'd have to work on her mood swings, but at least it looked as though one of his problems was about to be solved and not a moment too soon. He really hadn't been sure that he'd be able to survive another night without sex, but thanks to his mate's predicament, he wouldn’t have to.

 

Having her available twenty-four/seven would help him handle some of this added stress that he was dealing with. He didn't know who he had to thank for this dilemma of hers, but he was seriously thinking about sending them a thank you note and a box of steaks since this had worked out perfectly for him. She could go live in one of his penthouses where he'd only have to deal with her when he wanted sex and then the rest of the time he could live a Kara-free existence. This was too perfect.

 

“Go see Ryan on your way out. He'll give you the keys, code and address of one of the penthouses,” he said, pursing up his lips in thought as he looked her over. As happy as he was to finally have her, he'd always imagined her a little bit...oh, what was the word?

 

Cleaner?

 

The grunge look really didn't work for him. It surprised even him to realize that he had standards, but apparently he did. He liked dirty sex as much as the next guy, but with the emphasis on sex. She was going to need to clean up and he was going to have to make a few calls to have some clothes sent to her since he didn't trust her to pick out something that would please him.

 

Once she’d learned his taste, and she damn well would, he'd open up a few lines of credit for her at a lingerie store or two so that she could start surprising him. He wouldn't bother providing her with real clothes since she wouldn't have any reason to leave the penthouse, he decided, feeling pleased yet again with the way things were turning out. There was just something about having Kara at his mercy that put a smile on his face.

 

She crossed her arms stubbornly over that large chest that he was hours away from getting to know a little better and glared down at him. “I'm not moving into one of your penthouses and becoming your sex slave so forget about it.”

 

“Of course you will,” he said smugly, because really, what else was she going to do?

 

They both knew that she didn't have any other options. She was a shifter without a Pack, connections, money or even an identity. She needed him and she was damn well going to reward him for his kindness.

 

“No, I'm not! Just fix everything that you did so that I can get my life back!” she snapped.

 

He shrugged as he leaned back against the cushioned booth. “Can't fix what I didn't break, sweetheart. Your only options are living out in the street or going to one of my penthouses and meeting every single one of my needs.”

 

For a moment she only glared at him. He knew that she was a smart woman and was probably thinking over all of her options. Since there weren't any other options that he knew about, he had no doubt that she'd quickly come to the obvious conclusion and realize that he was bestowing a great honor upon her.

 

There was no doubt that she'd put up some resistance before accepting her fate. This was Kara after all, but when she realized how easy her life could be thanks to him, she'd start behaving like a good little mate and spread her legs whenever he was in the mood. It would take time, but he knew that he'd have her trained in a month, two tops.

 

“You're not going to fix this?” she demanded, looking pissed again, which was really starting to get annoying.

 

Were they really back to this again? he wondered with a heavy sigh. She really needed to move on and let things go so that they could get to the sex. “No, I'm not. Do you need a ride to the penthouse?” he asked casually, deciding that a nooner was exactly what he needed to clear his head.

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