Allure

  ALLURE

  Christin Lovell

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  ALLURE

  Copyright © 2011 by Christin M Lovell

  Cover Images © BigLike Studio

  Cover Images © Lonely

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  For where your treasure is, there your heart will also be.

  Luke 12:34

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  ALLURE

  Emma suffered through her childhood in an orphanage only to then struggle to barely keep herself off the streets. That is, until she met Ryan and Marco.

  The problem? One alpha wants to love her, the other one wants to hurt her.

  Females are rare in the world of weres, and her inherited royalty status from the parents that abandoned her make her all the more valuable to Ryan. He wants her, and he will get her, regardless of the crimes he has to commit to do so.

  Marco scented Emma as his from the second he laid eyes on her. Growing up with no one to rely on but herself, Emma fights her attraction to Marco, running away from his advances…until Ryan crosses the line and endangers them all over her.

  Quickly, Marco and his pack, Emma’s new pack, ready themselves for battle, prepared to fight hard to protect her, but a surprise twist will have her soon protecting them and bearing her heart on her sleeve.

  PLEASE NOTE: Allure was previously released through another publisher; however, the author has rescinded her rights. This is a republication that has been heavily edited, revised and generously expanded, and is now being sold with a half-off price tag.

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  ALLURE

  Preface.

  I’d been having the dream for months. It never changed.

  The wolf pack was charging through the woods, the alpha leading. Through the treetops, the full moon glinted down illuminating his amber colored fur. I could see his muscles bulging and straining in his stride. He was bigger than the others, clearly dominant in size alone.

  Through the uproar along the forest floor, I heard the words, “A werewolf’s worst enemy is another werewolf.”

  That’s when I saw the second pack racing towards them. I heard my heartbeat begin to sprint. It became the background music escalating in volume as the two packs drew closer.

  In the moment of truth though, all went silent. I waited with baited breath as the blond challenger leapt into the air merely feet away from the other. The amber wolf responded with a harsh spring. They were both flying through the air; their sharp claws angled outwards as war cries shook the surrounding timbers. They were on a collision course with each other. Everything slowed right before impact.

  Then my alarm went off.

  I always woke in a panicked sweat, as if these wolves meant something to me, as if I’d been worried sick over their safety. As if my heart truly did stop beating the moment the two alphas lunged for each other.

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  Chapter One

  “Break’s over, Emma,” Wilma called.

  I checked my watch. Sure enough, fifteen minutes had flown by. With a sigh, I closed my book, stuffing it into one of my apron pockets, before sliding out of the corner booth. I made my way back behind the counter to restock the sugar containers until another customer came in.

  It was always slow on Tuesday afternoons at Harvey’s, but then again, I assumed most diners would be at this time during the week, especially with it snowing outside. I’d been working at the restaurant for the past two years, since the day I turned eighteen and they kicked me out of the orphanage. I’d seen the pattern of traffic enough to have it memorized.

  I was surprised to hear the bell over the door. I glanced up to see two young men walking in. They looked like brothers with the same dark hair, olive skin and dark brown eyes. It wasn’t their good looks that caught my attention though; it was their attire. They were both bundled tight in coats and scarves up top, yet were wearing athletic shorts, low-rise socks and running shoes below. I couldn’t help but smirk at their insanity.

  I made my way towards them offering a pleasant smile. “Welcome. A table for two?” I asked as I grabbed two menus from behind the hostess station.

  Their faces hardened as they sniffed the air. I cocked my head to the side as I inhaled trying to sniff what could have possibly turned them off so quickly. All I could smell were the fresh apple pies and peach cobblers Wilma was baking, but Harvey did burn a couple orders earlier. Maybe the scent was lingering in the air and my palate had muted it out.

  “Sorry. The owner tends to burn things sometimes. But he’s not the cook right now so you have nothing to worry about,” I quickly amended.

  The larger guy standing on the right turned to the other. They seemed to be communicating despite no words being spoken. He abruptly turned back and narrowed his eyes at me. I began to fidget under his harsh gaze. Not only was the guy a good three inches taller than the other, he carried more bulk enhancing his dominant aura. He was definitely the older of the two and seemed to be in charge, which only made me more anxious at his expression.

  I stood awkwardly holding the menus, unsure of what to do next. I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat unsuccessfully. I didn’t know if they were staying or going, and they were giving me no clues either.

  A few seconds later the guy on the right stated, “Yes, a table for two.”

  I let out an expended sigh, not realizing I’d been holding my breath. I swallowed again, before nodding and leading them to a booth by the front window. “Will this be alright?”

  “Yes,” he replied already sitting down and removing his layers.

  “Would you like some hot chocolate or coffee while you look over the menu?”

  “Coffee, please.”

  I turned towards the smaller guy, though he wasn’t small by any means at nearly six feet of solid muscle. “And for you?”

  “The same.”

  “Of course.” I smiled diligently before turning to go gather their beverages.

  I felt them watching me. The moment I was behind the counter I looked their way to find two pairs of eyes staring directly at me unabashed. A chill ran down my spine as my imagination began to run wild. Were these men rapists? Thieves? Were they planning to jump me on my way home from work?

  My palms began to perspire. I rubbed them along the sides of my black pants trying to calm myself. They’re just two regular customers with no bad intentions, I tried to tell myself.

  It didn’t work.

  I poured their coffees and returned with the mugs, cream and sugar.

  I set a mug in front of each of them, cream and sugar in the middle, and successfully avoided making eye contact. I grabbed my pad of paper and pen from my apron, not really needing it, but wanting to keep my hands occupied. It was also a perfect barrier between them and me.

  “What did you decide?” I asked, glancing nervously at their menus, still sitting in the same spot I’d placed them. I chanced a look at the larger guy. He was still studying me intensely. My hand began to shake slightly as it gripped the pen. I dropped my arm to my side not wanting to let on how uneasy they made me feel.

  “Uh, I can give you another minute or two if you need it,” I offered, my voice traitorously cracking a bit. I quietly cleared my throat before offering them a small smile of encouragement. I couldn’t afford to upset a customer. This job was all I had.


  “No need. We’ll both have a loaded, double steak burger with fries. And bring out two cokes with the meals,” the big one ordered.

  “Certainly,” I beamed, glad to be able to walk away from their scrutiny. The younger-looking guy picked up both menus and handed them to me. “Thank you.”

  When I returned to behind the counter, Wilma was placing her freshly baked delights in the heated display case. Her graying hair was pulled tight at the nape of her neck in a bun, though strays always escaped falling gracefully around her round face. She and Harvey were happily plump, as Wilma liked to say. They’d owned the retro fifties-style diner for over thirty years, and, as she stated on more than one occasion, enjoyed all their customers did from the menu and more. Since I’d begun working there, the two had taken me under their wing since they had no children of their own.

  “If that boy stared any harder I swear he’d melt your clothes off,” she stated, smiling knowingly at the pair.

  “Wilma!” I immediately blushed. I couldn’t look back, afraid they would know we were talking about them.

  She laughed. “Oh, stop it, honey. Nearly every male that walks in here falls over for you, yet you won’t even look their way. It’s not healthy.”

  I did have a crowd of regulars who wouldn’t let anyone but me wait on them. I liked to think it was because of my customer service skills though, not my looks.

  Everyone always told me I had an exotic look. My long dark brown hair fell in waves, though most of the time it was twisted tightly atop my head, contrasting starkly with my bright blue eyes. Despite living in Vermont all my life, I had a light tan year-round, cheeks that never needed blush and full dark rose lips. I had curves, a nearly perfect hourglass figure, yet everyone always told me I was underweight and slight. That came from growing up in the orphanage though. Our punishment was often to lose a meal. I trained myself to eat just enough to survive, learning over time that the less I ate, the less my body expected me to eat so if I missed a meal, it wasn’t a big deal.

  Wilma was constantly trying to push food on me, but, struggling to pay what little bills I had, I didn’t want to indulge in the event I couldn’t afford my next meal. I would suffer all the more for having engorged myself earlier.

  I quickly wrote up the order and passed it to Ed, desperately wanting to avoid the subject of men and dating.

  “Playing the ignorance card I see.” She harrumphed.

  “You know I’m trying to save up for college. A boyfriend would only be a distraction.” I sighed.

  “I’m not saying you have to get serious, but you could certainly use a night away from here once in a while.” She slid the glass door of the display case closed. She walked over and patted my shoulder. “I’m not trying to force you, dear, but you need to live a little. Life should be fun at your age, regardless of what your circumstances are.” She smiled, giving me a kiss on the cheek before returning to the kitchen to prep for the evening’s special.

  I knew she was right, but I just couldn’t seem to let go. I couldn’t risk losing my future in an effort to indulge in my now.

  “Order’s up, Em,” Ed called placing the plates on the warming rack.

  “Thanks, Ed.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.” He smiled across the stainless steel counter at me. Ed tended to fill the role of crazy uncle for me. In his early forties now, he was born and raised in New Jersey. He got into a bit of trouble a couple years back though and ended up moving to our ski resort town, praying to never be found is all he’d say. He constantly had a joke or a story to tell, though they were often a bit vulgar causing me to cringe, blush or gape. He had a good heart though; he looked out for me on several occasions when I would have otherwise gone without.

  I filled two glasses with ice and coke and returned to the table with my arms full. The younger guy eagerly helped me unload.

  “Thanks. Can I get you two anything else?”

  “You live around here?” the younger guy asked, stuffing a fry into his mouth. My anxiety instantly returned.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Nice. Whereabouts?”

  I looked to the larger male, who wasn’t making a move towards his food. He merely stared at me with a calculated look. My heart picked up its pace. I was seriously starting to panic. My earlier theories on rapists or thieves popped in my mind.

  “Uh…” I fidgeted not wanting to answer.

  “You don’t ask a perfect stranger where they live,” the other one growled, momentarily breaking his concentration on me. I offered him a small smile of gratitude. “I’m Marco,” he stated, extending his hand outwards.

  I made the mistake of looking directly at him. He immediately locked eyes with me, his look so sharp as if he was trying to read my life story through them. He was in control of the action; he controlled me in the action. I couldn’t seem to pull myself away or even think for myself. Satisfied with whatever he found, he released me and reiterated his extended hand.

  I hesitated slightly before returning his handshake. “Emma.” My name came out breathlessly.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Emma. And this bird brain over here is Kuha.” He pointed towards him. Kuha sat stuffing his mouth with food, unashamed of his actions. He grinned, mouth full, and slightly waved in my direction.

  “It’s nice to meet you both.” I paused. I wasn’t so unsure now that they had introduced themselves, but couldn’t help thinking they could easily have lied about their names. I would have chosen more common names though if I was going to lie. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “No, Emma,” Marco said. It sounded more like a command to dismiss me. I nodded once and walked away.

  An hour later they left, right as the dinner rush began, leaving me no time to give them a second thought. It was 11:00 p.m. before we slowed down again.

  “My poor feet are aching!” Wilma exclaimed as she collapsed in a chair.

  “You can’t start falling apart on me now, Wilma.” I smiled.

  “Ugh.” She waved me off. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon so don’t you worry your pretty little self.”

  “Hey, Wilma?” Ed yelled.

  “Yeah?” she hollered back at him.

  “Think I can head out now? I got myself a hot number waitin’.” Ed came through the kitchen door, a full grin smeared on his face as he anxiously rubbed his hands together. He was already bundled up prepared to leave the moment he got the okay.

  “At this time of night? What kinda number you got there, boy?” Her expression was full of disapproval.

  “A good one if I can get to her.”

  Wilma eyed him for a moment before relenting. “Alright, but that kitchen better be clean when I go back there.”

  “It’s good. I’ll see you ladies tomorrow,” he said already heading towards the door.

  “That boy, I swear.” She shook her head in amused dismay. I knew we’d hear the story tomorrow.

  “Do me a favor and lock the front door for me, Em. I don’t think I could handle another round.” She chuckled softly.

  “Sure. Tonight was busier than usual. Must have been your meatloaf special; that’s all I seemed to ring up.” I switched the lock and turned the sign to say closed.

  “My momma’s recipe. It’s delish! I saved you a plate in the back.”

  “Thanks, but I’m okay. Why don’t you take it home to Harvey?”

  “Please, like that man needs any more stuffing. You worked your ass off tonight, Em, on an empty stomach. You need to eat, so just shut up and take it.”

  I knew I wasn’t getting out of there without the meal. “Okay. Thanks.” She knew just how to manhandle me into things.

  “Great. Now that that’s settled, let’s clean this place up so we can get out of here.” She groaned as she stood. “Oh, God, I feel my age right now.”

  I laughed as I started wiping down the tables and organizing the condiments.

  Thirty minutes later Wilma locked up and I began my walk home. I didn�
��t live far from the diner, about two miles away. When it was five degrees out though, that walk home felt like it took forever.

  I lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in an older building away from the revitalized part of town that most of the tourists frequented. It was far from fancy; it didn’t have central A/C or heat, but was certainly affordable, as affordable as an upscale ski town could be.

  Less than a block away from the diner, I got the eerie feeling that I was being followed. Tingles seemed to creep over the flesh along my neck and back. Instantly, Marco and Kuha came to mind, stirring my nerves all over again. My chest tightened, anxiety tensing every muscle. I stopped abruptly and looked around, scanning every alley and corner carefully, yet saw no one.

  I expelled a breath. It’s just my imagination.

  There was rarely any crime in our small town so walking home was never a concern for me before. I gathered myself and continued trudging along the snow-covered sidewalk, past the empty shop fronts and random homes that dotted downtown. Around the halfway point though, I thought I began to hear a second set of footsteps not too far behind me. I slowly looked back over my shoulder, but saw no one. That didn’t stop my imagination from flaring or my heartbeat from quickening though. My gut clenched as I gave myself a mental shake. Since when did I become so paranoid?

  With a rickety sigh, I continued my trek. Upon hearing someone walking behind me again, I halted and turned fully around to study what was visible in that direction. Despite no one being there, this time I knew I hadn’t imagined it because there were fresh footprints visible a few yards back under the streetlight. They abruptly ended though.

  My heart took off, beating at a fast, wild pace as my breathing increased simultaneously. I was being followed. A chill ran down my spine, and not because of the temperature outside. I checked my surroundings, noting I was a block and a half from home. I knew I needed to just make it home.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, I turned face and picked up my pace.

  I was nearly there. I was less than a block away from my apartment and could see the building when I heard a whisper. Too afraid to look back and see who could possibly be stalking me, I sped up. Their footsteps echoed behind me as they too raced forward. My heart began pounding, no longer merely sprinting. Right as I reached the stairs leading up to the front door, someone grabbed my upper left arm.