Free PS02 - Without Regret by R.L. Mathewson

anything for his family.
    Even his mate.
    “…so as you can see this has all been a terrible misunderstanding,” his mate said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
    She stood up almost hesitantly. “I’ll just be going now,”
    she said, stepping to the side, making sure to keep plenty of distance between the two of them. When he sighed and stood up she
    held up her good hand, gesturing for him to take a seat.
    “You don’t have to get up. I’m sure I can find my out,”
    she said brightly, never slowing in her little escape attempt. She kept her eyes firmly on him as she backed up towards the
    door. “Well, have a nice life,” she said, reaching out blindly for the door.
    He watched as she fumbled with the doorknob, finally managed to open the door and turned to flee only to slam into Ephraim
    and stumble back, falling on her very adorable ass.
    Chapter 6
    “I’m sorry,” the man who by all rights should be on the cover of a GQ magazine said, reaching down to offer her a hand. “Let
    me help you up.”
    Isabella scooted back as she prepared herself for the wave of lust that should be hitting her any second now thanks to the drugs.
    When she didn’t feel anything even remotely like attraction for the man she frowned, wondering, heck hoping, that the drugs had
    worn off.
    She was just about to push back again when strong arms wrapped around her and picked her up. Much to her shame she let out
    a startled little squeak that had the GQ model’s lips twitching.
    “Let’s go, Munchkin,” the big jerk said even as her body registered his touch and she practically moaned in pleasure.
    What in the hell was wrong with her?
    Those drugs should have her drooling after every man she ran into, but so far she’d only felt an all consuming need to tear this
    jerk’s clothes off. Maybe they used hypnosis, she thought as she was carried back over to the couch.
    “Hey!” she gasped when she felt him nuzzle her neck.
    “Put me down!”
    “Sure thing,” he said, dropping her on the couch. She bounced twice before she managed to sit up and move to the end of the
    couch, away from the man that was causing her hormones to go crazy.
    “I lured the women into the kitchen with about ten tons of chocolate so we should have a half hour before they tear down the
    door, demanding to meet your mate,” the GQ model said, making her frown so hard she was afraid her face was going to break.
    “Thanks, Dad,” Chris said, taking a seat across from her.
    Seriously, what was it with these people and referring to her as this man’s—wait a minute, what was this now?
    Did he just call GQ guy “Dad”? Isabella took in his short black hair, incredible blue eyes, chiseled good looks and a body to
    kill for and had to wonder what kind of game this cult was playing. GQ couldn’t be older than thirty.
    There was no way he was this man’s father. Then again their relationship might be similar to one they all seemed to think she
    had with Chris.
    Maybe they just went around claiming people?
    GQ nodded in acknowledgement to her. “My name is Ephraim. It’s nice to meet you Isabella.”
    When she said nothing Chris muttered something and lazily gestured towards Ephraim. “This is my father.”
    “Sure, okay,” she said, deciding to go along with it for a moment. There was no need to debate the whole thing when she
    needed to use her energy to figure out how she was going to get her hands on a computer or maybe a cell phone, she thought as
    her eyes drifted down to the silver cell phone attached to Ephraim’s belt.
    She licked her lips as she shifted in her seat, trying not jar her hand too much as a plan formed, a simple one, but one she hoped
    they went for.
    “Is there any chance I could make a call?” she asked, forcing her eyes to stay on Ephraim so that she could think clearly since it
    was more than obvious to her that her brain had a tendency of playing hide and seek when she looked at Chris.
    “No,” Chris said