When greedy land
developers set their sights on Dark Sentinel land, Torin turns to attorney
Stephanie Bates for help, but she’ll need his protection to stay alive long
enough to save his land.
Real estate lawyer,
Stephanie Bates, has risen to the top of her field through meticulous sacrifice
and goal setting. She has no time for distractions – and that includes pets,
messy relationships, and loose ends.
Torin DuMont is a
forensic scientist who chose the profession to avoid dealing with people as
much as possible. Raised by a stepfather who hated him, he’s been forced to
live a life of solitude, fueled by anger and distrust. When wolves and shifters
start turning up dead, Torin must battle an enemy bent on destroying those he
was born to protect. His greatest challenge, however, is Attorney Bates and the
surprising effect she has on his heart.
Dark
Sentinels Book Two: Torin
Dariel
Raye
Torin
didn’t have to leave his spot against the wall to overhear Cindy and the
unavailable Ms. Bates, despite the fact that they were intentionally speaking
softly.
“…I tried
to reschedule, but he won’t…and he won’t leave either! Steph, you haven’t seen
him. He’s huge, and he walked in looking pissed—not a good combination. I
started to call for James to escort him out of the office, but I like James,
so...”
Both women
shared a laugh. “No, no need for all that. You offered him another appointment.
If he chooses to wait, let him wait. I’ll deal with him if he doesn’t get tired
and leave.” She laughed again. “I keep saying I need a peephole in this door.
You’ve piqued my curiosity now. Wish I could
work him in. I’m eager to meet
one of these Wild Landers I keep hearing about but never seem to run into any.”
“For the
most part, they pretty much keep to themselves, but believe me, you’ll know
when you see one.” Cindy sighed. “Guess I’ll go back out here and try to work
while he’s glaring at me. I doubt he’s going anywhere, Steph. He seems like the
stubborn type.”
“Don’t
worry, Cindy. If he’s still there when it’s time for you to leave, I’ll speak
to him myself and try to reschedule. In the meantime, just ignore him. Maybe
he’ll take the hint and leave.”
* * *
Torin
stepped outside several times to stretch his long legs, finding fewer clients
waiting for Ms. Bates on each return. He’d overheard everything the lawyer and
her receptionist said, but it wasn’t what
she had said that bothered him; it was the timbre of her voice itself—soft,
smooth, and lilting—that elicited an immediate response. Puzzled by his own
involuntary reaction, he wanted to hear more of it, like a cobra drawn
helplessly and nonsensically to an oboe.
He sensed
the sun had gone down before he stepped over to the small window and looked
out. Even in the complete darkness, his eyes did not fail him, and he saw the
grounds as clearly as if daylight greeted him. Finally, one man remained in the
waiting room with him, but it was well after six p.m.
He picked
up the pleasant scent of mint, lemongrass, and lilies and turned just in time
to see shapely legs, a voluptuous body full of promise. The warm, mocha-colored
face wasn’t bad either. Clearly, it was the owner of the musical voice. His
wolf bristled beneath his skin, forcing an internal battle just to remain
civilized. Confusion increased his frustration. He’d never reacted to a female
this way before, and certainly not a human.
She glanced
at the other client and headed straight for Torin, arm extended to shake his
hand as she called over her shoulder, “Go on home, Cindy. It’s already late. No
need for both of us to stay.”
Cindy was
out of the office in a flash, glancing back apprehensively as she closed the
door.
“Mr.
DuMont? I’m Ms. Bates, Stephanie Bates.”
Torin
nodded and grasped her hand but did not return her smile. He was far too busy
trying to resist the crippling effect her melodious voice seemed to have on
him. His nerve endings sizzled as he attempted to manage the sensory overload. This isn’t supposed to happen, he
secretly seethed. What in the hell is
wrong with me? His sexual encounters had been quick, unemotional, and
necessary for physical satisfaction only, and he’d never been overtaken
so--completely. Her scent intensified, tinged with desire, as molten
chocolate-colored eyes gazed at him confidently, only confusing him further. Desire?
Certain her
reaction to him couldn’t possibly be an invitation, he removed his hand from
her grasp and folded his arms across his chest. Social skills were definitely
not his forte, but he couldn’t remember his senses ever being so off-base
before.
Stephanie
cleared her throat before she continued, placing her hand on her hip as if she
wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I want to personally apologize for the
appointment mix-up, but—”
“There’s
been no mix-up. What I need will only take a few moments of your time.”
“Unfortunately,
I was unexpectedly called in on another case this morning, so—”
“Not my
problem.” He glowered down at her, then turned to stare at the only other
client in the office, daring him to stick around.
The other
man, presumably a would-be client, averted his gaze, slid from his chair, and
scurried through the exit.
Once they
were alone, Torin returned his gaze to Stephanie and lifted a brow. “Looks like
you’ve got a cancelation. I’m sure you can squeeze me in now.”
Stephanie’s
smile disappeared, and her full lips formed a firm line of disapproval.
Good. Now she knows how I feel, being so…hard-pressed
to control her own domain.
Stephanie
turned and walked away from him without another word until she reached the
phone. “Get out! Get out of my office, Mr. DuMont.” The words were spoken as
she hit a buzzer, then she spoke quickly but calmly into a speaker. “James, I
know it’s time for you to leave, but I need you to escort someone from my
office before you go please.”
Not wanting
to involve anyone else, Torin sighed and left before James entered. He realized
his behavior was ridiculous and gritted his teeth out of regret. The thought of
reporting to his stepfather that he’d failed to procure Ms. Bates’s counsel made
him want to howl—and not in a good way.
He stepped
off the elevator and walked slowly to his truck, still hesitant about leaving.
The parking garage was nearly empty. He slid into the driver seat and tilted
his head back against the headrest to think. Ms. Bates was relatively new in
town, but her reputation preceded her: She was the best in her field. If anyone
could help save Wild Lands, she could.
What a fuck-up! he thought, torturing himself further. As
usual, he’d managed to win friends and influence others. He was so much better
with crime scenes and dead people.
* * *
Stephanie
pressed her hand over her heart in an attempt to slow it down. Torin DuMont had
to be the rudest man she’d ever come in contact with, and she’d met her share
of assholes. Thing was, Torin didn’t even seem to realize—or at least care—how
rude he was. Obviously, he was used to having his orders obeyed. He hadn’t even
given her a chance to finish a sentence and kept interrupting her with that
deep, raspy voice of his that somehow reminded her of the rough leather her
father used to sharpen his knives—strong, heavy, and used to dominate.
Before her
move to this small but ritzy town, she’d decided she would never allow another
domineering man in her life, not even as a client. Sometimes that required
drastic measures.
Something primal inside her responded to him
instinctively though. His sandpaper voice, every word on the verge of a growl,
sent tingles through her, and when he’d grasped her hand, she’d had to back
away to keep from being sucked in; the latter was not an option. She’d fought
too hard to crawl out from under her father’s thumb, and she wasn’t about to
end up running from everything she’d built…again. And what
kind of teeth were those? He had pearly whites, but they were all pointed,
as if he’d had them filed down and sharpened.
“Want me to
see you out, Ms. Bates?” James asked, interrupting her thoughts. He stood in
the doorway, glancing around the office, a quizzical look on his weathered
face.
“Uh, no.
Thanks, James, but that won’t be necessary.” She smiled, attempting to put him
at ease. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed that controlling hooligan to upset
her so easily. She also couldn’t believe Cindy had neglected to tell her Mr.
DuMont was like hot sex on a big stick.
The moment
she spotted him, she’d wanted to melt and climb up his big, hard body or climb
him and then melt. Either way, climbing and melting would have been involved,
and quite a bit of panting. He had dark hair, just a bit too long to be respectable,
was nearly basketball star tall, and was equipped with shoulders made for
clinging, if she’d been into that sort
of thing. But it was his eyes that really did it for her—stormy, gray with
impossible, sultry black lashes. Visions of pouring rain, earth-rattling
thunder, and her limbs wrapped around his powerful body flashed into
consciousness.
How could someone who looked that good make me
want to slap him so quickly? Nobody interrupts me! If Richard Bates hadn’t taught her anything
else, it was to command respect. Putting a potential client out of her office
might have been a tad over the top, but at that moment, it was an act of
self-preservation.
There's also a Prequel, and "Dark Sentinels Book Three: Parrish" is coming soon.
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