Free Mated by Desiree Holt Page B

company. My bad.”
    “Did she freak?” Luke wanted to know.
    “A little, at first. But then, when we told her what the situation was, she actually seemed fascinated. Which is kind of weird, because usually humans tend to give us a wide berth when they find out about us. And Linnea’s not normally an… adventurous person. But she’s not only accepting of this but wants to learn more about it. We lent her some books to read.”
    “She’s been unbelievably accepting of it,” Brian told them. “And it seems the more she learns, the more she wants to learn.”
    Sierra exchanged a glance with Regan. “I think the two Spencer wives are proof that not all humans run away from shape shifters.” She grinned. “And aren’t we lucky we didn’t?”
    Luke winked at her, a tiny note of humour in a tense situation. “I think Brian and I are the lucky ones.”
    “And,” Regan added, grinning herself, “she did say one of the reasons she wanted to hire The Sentinels was because she thought shifters could do things the police couldn’t. So. Are we still good to go?”
    Cale nodded. “After that introduction? Absolutely.”
    “You might keep this in mind,” Brian told him. “She did want to know where she could get a shifter of her own.”
    “Seriously?” Sierra asked, linking her fingers possessively with her husband’s.
    “Like I said, Linnea’s …different,” Regan added.
    “Different good or different bad?” Cale wanted to know. “What should I be prepared for?”
    Regan laughed. “You’ll like her. That’s all I’m going to say.”
    The meeting broke up and they all headed out of the small stucco building that housed their office.
    “ Cale ?” Regan had hurried to catch up with him. “I just wanted to say thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
    He touched the brim of his cowboy hat. “I hope I can help her.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Cale pulled his truck to the kerb and parked it, turned off the lights and sat studying Linnea Porter’s house. He’d spent the day setting things up with his ranch manager, not knowing how long he’d be in the city, telling the man he’d check back with him to let him know. Then he’d driven up to San Antonio, waiting until he knew Linnea Porter would have had time to get home and have something to eat.
    He’d found her with Google Street View, so he had a fair idea ahead of time not only of where she lived but what her house looked like. Constructed of brick and stucco, its two stories rose gracefully from a decent size lawn, the doors guarded by lush crape myrtles. An ancient oak tree spread its branches at the front of the yard and with the glow of the street lamp and his wolf’s eyes he saw that the backyard fell away to a forested area. He’d guess she’d either bought the house a long time ago or inherited it, because this kind of real estate at the far northwest end of the city was pretty pricey.
    Last night when he’d returned to the ranch he’d stayed up a while and Googled her to see what he could find. There was precious little out there other than her official bio put out by the prosecutor’s office as well as some articles about cases she’d tried. Although there’d been a lot of professional information about her on the Internet there had been almost nothing personal about her. She was single and an assistant prosecuting attorney who appeared to have a good track record and was known as a hard nose when it came to violent crimes. Good for her. His kind of woman.
    But he wondered again why a single woman wanted to live in such a big house. Nothing he’d read gave him a clue.
    Locking the truck, he climbed the steps to her porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened and Linnea Porter stood there backlit by the light from her living room. His groin tightened and his wolf growled. Linnea Porter was definitely not what he’d expected. He’d been looking for a tall, tough female with a no nonsense look. This woman took his breath