Free Beauty and the Wolf by Lois Faye Dyer Page A

asked, his voice neutral.
    â€œInterestingly enough, no, he hasn’t.” Frankie tucked her hair behind her ear.
    Eli’s gaze tracked her fingers’ movement, lingering over her hair before fastening on her face once again. “So Harry must not be giving Dean the same kind of verbal nudging he’s giving you,” he guessed.
    â€œI suspect not.” Frankie frowned, considering. “Has Harry tried to grill you about me?”
    â€œNot yet.” Eli shrugged. “But we have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the Wolf Construction proposal for the south Seattle project. Maybe he’s waiting until then.” He sipped his coffee once again. “Harry’scagey—I wouldn’t put anything past him, and if he’s not nudging Nicholas about asking you out, he must have a reason.”
    â€œOr maybe Nicholas refused to get involved in Harry’s schemes,” Frankie said. “And if he did, then our plan isn’t really necessary.”
    Eli’s eyes glinted. “If you believe that, then you don’t know Harry as well as I thought you did.”
    â€œWhat makes you say that?” Frankie hoped Eli had a really good answer, because she was enjoying seeing him and didn’t want their dates to end.
    â€œHarry always has a bigger view of his projects, and if fixing you up with Nicholas didn’t work out, he would go to plan B.”
    â€œAnd what’s plan B?” Frankie asked.
    â€œNot what— who. I have no idea who Harry would pick out to be the next candidate, but I’m sure he has another name on his list as a backup for Nicholas.”
    â€œOf course.” Frankie sighed, tense muscles relaxing. “You’re right. Harry always has a plan. Mom said that’s the reason he was always so good at chess.”
    â€œThat sounds like Harry.” Eli glanced at his watch. “Time for me to go—I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.” He stood, swinging the chair back into its original position. “What time do you want me to pick you up on Friday?”
    â€œHow about seven?”
    â€œI’ll see you then.” His gaze flicked to her mouth, lingered, before returning to her eyes. “Have a good afternoon,” he murmured, his deep voice a rumble.
    And he was gone, before Frankie could gather her wits after that hot, focused stare.
    Several minutes later, she was still sitting motionless, staring blankly at the notes on her desk when, for the second time in a half hour, knuckles rapped against her open office door. She looked up to find her friend and coworker, assistant professor Sharon Katz, standing on the threshold. Before Frankie could say hello, Sharon spoke.
    â€œWow, Frankie, who was that guy?” she asked, curiosity lighting her face. “He’s gorgeous.”
    Frankie laughed at her friend’s expression. “He’s a friend of my cousin Justin.”
    â€œAnd he’s visiting you…why?”
    â€œHe brought me a latte.” Frankie lifted the Starbucks cup and saluted Sharon with it before drinking.
    â€œNice.” Sharon leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed, a sheaf of papers in one hand. “Come on, fess up. Are you dating him?”
    â€œI am.” Frankie grinned when Sharon rolled her eyes and fanned herself with the papers.
    â€œWay to go, Professor.” She straightened, glancing over her shoulder. “Darn, students are already filing into my lecture hall. I have to go—let’s have lunch tomorrow, and you can fill me in on all the details, okay?”
    â€œOkay.” Frankie turned back to the half-completed report on her desk as Sharon disappeared, the quick tap of her heels fading away down the hall.
    Anticipation buoyed Frankie over the next day. But Friday morning brought disappointing news. Herdepartment head emailed to tell her attendance was mandatory at an impromptu after-work cocktail party. She suspected her boss