She already hated the guy. Just because hewas rich didn’t mean he could always get what he wanted by flashinghis cash. “I can’t just drop everything, Harper.”
“Please, Jamie. This could bring in a lotof new clients. Think of all those eligible, testosterone-filled werewolves from his packthat might be looking for a mate too.” Another pause down the line.“I’d pay you more if I thought you needed the money, but this wouldreally help me out.”
Jamie rolled her eyes. She always wasa sucker for helpingpeople. “Okay, I’ll meet this Mr Beckett dork and show him theropes, but this has to be a one-off, okay?”
“You’re a star, Jamie, thank you. I’ll textyou his address. And be nice!”
“I’m always nice.” Except when someonewronged her; like whenshe’d walked in on her fiancé and her bridesmaid having sex on herwedding day. She said goodbye to Harper and switched off herphone.
Willow returned, two glasses in herhands.
“Sorry, the mojitos will have to wait. Ihave to go to a client’s house to help him sign up to the dating agency.”
“I thought it was an online thing?” saidWillow.
“It is, but the douche bag can’t work out howto do it, apparently.”
Her phone tinged with a text message. Thewerewolf’s address. Beckett Hall: she’d heard ofit, but she didn’t knowthe country mansion was owned by an arrogant alpha were. Shechecked the time on her phone. It would take her at least thirtyminutes to get there.
“I have to go.” She headed for the door. “Iget the feeling this Grayson Beckett isn’t someone who likes to be kept waiting—he’spaying ten times the fee.”
Willow waggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, he’s rich?Sounds more alpha male than douche bag. Could be interesting.”
Jamie laughed at her innocent reference.If she knew what a real alpha was capable of, she wouldn’t be so keen. “Stop withyour matchmaking, Willow, it’s not happening. You know I’m off themarket for good.”
“You can’t let one cheating loser ruin therest of your life, Jamie.” Willow sipped her drink. “It was fiveyears ago.”
Yeah, five years, but she remembered her disastrous weddingday like it happened yesterday. There was no way she would evertrust another guy again. “He could be God’s gift for all I care.I’m going in a professional capacity.” She spoke to her Chihuahua.“Come on, Cujo, we have to go.”
“Wait, you can’t go looking like that.”
Jamie looked at her attire; jerseyleggings with a hole in the seam and an oversized hoodie. “Isuppose I should change but I’ll have to be quick.” She grabbed themojito from Willow and swigged a mouthful. “Save the rest for me when I getback.”
“Jamie, wait…”
She didn’t hear her friend as she flew outthe door and ran to her flat across the hall, Cujo yapping at herheels.
She sprinted through her exclusiveapartment—an investment, along with other properties, paid for withsome of her inheritance from Dad—and headed into the dressing room.She wasn’t short of clothes, but these days she preferred to wearmore casual attire, likejeans, T-shirts, trackie bottoms and baggy sweatshirts, whichsuited her work-from-home lifestyle.
After yanking the hoodie over her head, Jamietossed it on the floor and rummaged through the rack. She foundwhat she had in mind.
An ice-blue fitted dress with capped sleeves. She slipped it overher head and then wriggled it down her hips at the same time astaking off her leggings.
The smart dress skimmed her slim frameperfectly, but its length stopped further up her thighs than sheremembered. “What do youthink, Cujo? Too short?”
Her cute dog tilted his head to one side.
The clock was ticking. It would have todo.
She slipped her feet into the highestshoes she could find; nude-coloured, which made her legs looklonger than they were—and adding extra height to her five feet two-and-a-half-inchframe never went amiss.
Jamie grabbed a handbag and threw in herpurse and car keys. As an afterthought, she retrieved the necklaceher mum gave her—one of the few things she’d ever given her,although it was herwarlock husband who’d insisted Jamie wear it. A crystal vialcontaining a spelled sleeping powder; powerful stuff that couldknock out any magical creature for hours. After all, she wasmeeting an alpha werewolf; better safe than sorry.
Jamie scooped Cujo up and placed him gently into the bagtoo. She fetched her laptop from her bedroom, shoved it into itscarry case and headed out of her apartment.
Luckily, the traffic out of town wasn’ttoo horrendous and she was soon on the main dualcarriageway, headinginto open countryside. She might make it within the hour, as MrBeckett had unreasonably insisted, as long as she didn’t miss theturnoff, which was difficult to find according to Harper’sdirections.
She muttered to herself, questioningher inability to say noto people when they needed her help, like being a guinea pig forWillow.
Jamie glanced in the rear-view mirror. Hereyes widened in horror.
In her haste, she’d forgotten her makeupsession. She still looked like a flipping OompaLoompa.
Her ten-year-old Fiesta swerved into thegrass verge, forcing her to focus. Cujo stirred inside Jamie’shandbag but went back to sleep.
Too late to do anything about her orangefoundation now, and it wasn’t as if she was worried what the douchebag werewolf thought ofher. As long as she remained professional and did her job, whocared if she’d been Tangoed?
Passing a huge oak tree, she spotted theconcealed entrance ahead, virtually invisible from the road, withovergrown hedgerows either side. She’d driven this dual carriageway hundreds of times andnever noticed it, but then, she hadn’t been looking for it beforetoday.
She slowed and turned left.
The single lane twisted through a woodedarea for a mile or so. Potholes at every turn slowed herjourney more, and hercar’s suspension system took quite a battering. Poor Gloria did notsound pleased.
Jamie checked her watch. She was late.
At last, the lane opened into a gravelledcourtyard. Nestled amongst mature oaks and elms sat an impressivecountry mansion. Turn ofthe century, by the looks of the architecture.
Jamie pulled up to the side of the building,grabbed her laptop case and handbag and leapt out of her car. Cujowoke and poked his head out of her handbag.
With her stilettos kicking up thegravel, she headed
