Free Marked by Aline Hunter Page A

she could see his arms. The black T-shirt didn’t
fully cover the intricate, ink sleeves that covered his skin. The tribal
designs contained what appeared to be wolves within the layers.
    “And you are?”
    “Rachel,” she answered quickly, meeting his gaze.
    “Rachel…?” he prodded, obviously wanting her last name, and
stopped in front of her. This close—standing just inches away from him from the
counter—she could smell him. Like a touch of the woods, forest and
earth. Were werewolves supposed to smell this good?
    Who cares? You’re not here to get warm and cozy with a
man who changes into a dog and hikes his leg at trees to mark his territory.
Get a grip!
    “Just Rachel,” she retorted hotly, getting her hormones
under control.
    “What can I do for you, Just Rachel?” he asked, an amused
smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. If he meant to break the ice, he’d
fucked up big-time. He was teasing her, and she hated being teased.
    “I’ve come to pick up Chloe.” When he didn’t react one way
or another and just stood there watching her, she asked between gritted teeth,
“Are you hard of hearing? Do I need to break out in sign?”
    “Actually my hearing is better than most.” The man across
from her lost his playfulness and leaned against the counter, the muscles in
his chest flexing with the motion. “As you can see, you made a trip for
nothing. Chloe isn’t here.”
    “Don’t even. I’m not in the mood for games.” She smirked and
moved closer. “You don’t want me to call the police, do you? I’m sure they’d
love to hear that a human woman entered your parlor and vanished. You might
even make the evening news.”
    Instead of taking her threat at face value, he grinned. Her
insides wilted and burned white-hot. The air seemed to thicken, making it
difficult to breathe. When she drew a deep breath the scent in the air
increased, swarming her mind, making her sway on her feet.
    “You wouldn’t do that,” he rasped, still looking her in the
eye. “Not to me.”
    The hell I wouldn’t.
    “Oh yes I would.” She ground out the words, forcing her
increased libido aside, remembering why she’d come here. Chloe needed her. An
attractive man with what appeared to be a gorgeous body wasn’t going to catch
her off guard. “In fact, I called them before I came here.”
    His irises flashed, becoming gold. “You’re lying,” he stated
with total conviction, watching her with eyes that saw more than she wanted
them to.
    Anger replaced desire. True, she hadn’t called the police,
but there was no way he could possibly know that.
    “Wanna bet?”
    He paused as though he was trying to read her. Then his
attention shifted to the door. She heard a car pull up to the parlor and his
golden eyes narrowed. In a split second the annoying man moved, standing in
front of her one moment and beside her the next. The teasing glint in his gaze
was gone, replaced with an anger that sent her heart thundering in alarm.
    “Son of a bitch.” He reached out, snagged her arm and tugged
her around the counter. “I don’t have time for this shit.”
    “What do you think you’re doing?” She tried to yank away and
winced when his grip increased, his fingers biting into her jacket. “Hey! Let
go, asshole!”
    If he heard he didn’t listen, literally dragging her down
the hallway. Terrified and unable to do anything else, she tried to drop to the
ground. To her shock, he seemed to know what she was going to do before she did
it. He caught her, slipping his arms beneath her legs and back. She squirmed as
he carried her into a room and slammed the door closed with the heel of his
boot. He thrust her into a tattoo chair, knocking the air from her lungs, and
took a step back. He looked intimidating, folding his massive arms over his
chest.
    “All right, Just Rachel. Listen up. I’m only going to say
this once. Keep your sweet little ass parked in that chair until I get back. If
you piss me off you won’t