In the Loup Boxed Set #1 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Shadow of the Wolf

  Wolf Rising

  Heart's Strife

  Wolf Blood

  Smashwords Books

  IN THE LOUP BOXED SET #1 (c) 2014 Mac Flynn Box 1 of the Adult IN THE LOUP Werewolf Series

  This series:

  Boxed Set #1

  Boxed Set #2

  Boxed Set #3

  Boxed Set #4

  Genre: Contemporary Romance / Paranormal Romance Due to sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

  Smashwords Edition

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  SHADOW OF THE WOLF (IN THE LOUP: BOOK #1)

  She had it all, and yet so little.

  Stephanie Yager was great at what she did, which was creating advertising for small and large companies. No one else could think up a better line or point out a better way of making a poster brighter and more exciting. She had help, of course, and that was in the form of her partner, Charles Taylor. He had the talent to know when to be diplomatic with the clients and when to let the job pass without another look. He managed all their finances and kept the business afloat when she would have been swamped by all the numbers and names. He was pretty easy on the eyes, too, and only a few years older than herself.

  He was her partner only professionally, though. For the personal she had her husband Bob Yager for that. He was definitely easy on the eyes and really rich. That always made her mind easy, but after she hired on Chuck and her finances started going up, their romance started going downhill. Nothing says a honeymoon killer like working nine to nine and being away from home several months out of the year going to conferences and scrambling for lucrative contracts. It was a dog-eat-dog world out there, but she managed to make it at the cost of her marriage.

  Don't get her wrong, she wanted to live the high life of a rich wife attached to the arm of her gorgeous husband, but he always encouraged her to travel and see the world on business. He always encouraged her passions, but without wanting to join in on the fun. He was the stay-at-home spouse who enjoyed time to themselves, did the dishes and laundry, and bought all the food. Bob never seemed to mind being the housemaid, but sometimes that could cause a strain when she wanted to relax and take a vacation. He always reminded her about the bills and how much their big house cost on all those acres. Then she'd go trudging back to work the next day and Chuck would be surprised to see her.

  It made for some awkward returns home when she chatted away about the places she'd seen and he'd be distracted with cleaning up her dirty clothes. It was almost like they were living in two different worlds that only came together for a few brief hours every few days.

  Thankfully right now she wasn't in his world nor he in hers. She was at a conference designed to get together ad companies with new clients. She really hated this part of the business but Chuck reveled in meeting new people and connecting with potential customers. To her there was always those people who were just looking for a cheap outlet for their business, and she constantly had to deflect questions about free quotes and samples. Chuck took them in stride, though, and merely handed them a card which had their contact info along with a stylish background design.

  That was how their days were handled. For the evening course, there was the occasional invitation-only dinner for the high-profile clients. There she had to wear any sleek dress she could find and drink wine while mindlessly chatting away with complete strangers. It was bad enough she couldn't handle alcohol, but they made it even worse with their self-indulgent conversations. More than once she'd used an unfinished project as an excuse to get away.

  "This one isn't going to be that bad, Boss," Chuck insisted. Even though they were partners, he always liked to call her that because she'd hired him into the business. She'd never heard him say her real name.

  "That's what you say about all of them, Chuck." They were riding the elevator to their rooms in the hotel. It would be an hour until the lunch gathering, and then they had a dinner engagement with the more elite clients.

  "At least we got an invite to the dinner," he pointed out. "A lot of people would kill their own grandma just to get inside."

  "Sounds messy." The elevator stopped on their floor and they lugged their luggage to the rooms down the hall. "I'd gladly change places with them."

  "Not if you want to get those contracts to make those pretty pictures," he scolded. Sometimes he really sounded like a flustered mother hen. He felt like that, too.

  "Yes, mom," Stephanie playfully shot back as she slid into her room.

  "Don't make me make you behave!" he countered, but her door shut his words out. He rolled his eyes and sighed. There was something about that woman-girl that drove him so crazy, and yet made him kept coming back day after day to work for her. "Maybe if I got a poodle, instead," he snorted. "At least that thing would listen to me."

  Stephanie plopped her bag down on the bed and threw herself down next to it. She knew she was acting like a child, but she didn't care. She just wanted to make some fine quality artwork or some nifty saying that would appeal to a faceless individual who would fork over cash in exchange for said artwork or saying. She didn't want to have to go through all these steps to catch some strangers' attentions and nab themselves a difficult client with impossible demands. Usually deadlines that couldn't be met. She really hated those.

  "Why didn't I pick an easier job, like sidewalk artist?" she muttered into the covers.

  "Because you hate chalk." Stephanie scowled at Chuck, who stood in the doorway tapping his wristwatch. He'd already changed into some neat slacks and a clean white shirt. "And we need to get ready for that lunch or we're going to be late."

  "Why can't they have the lunch and dinner at the same hotels?" she complained as she stripped off her shoes. Her feet wiggled at the freedom from the heels. They didn't have much time before she'd need to imprison them again.

  "Because they get the food cheap only once at a place," he reminded for the tenth time. "If they had it at the same place twice, they'd have to pay full price for the dinner or lunch."

  "Cheapskates." She flipped open her bag and rummaged through her clothes. Underwear, shirts and skirts flew out, and Chuck blushed at the unmentionables.

  "Did you want me to leave?" he asked as he dodged a pair of silk stockings.

  "Nah, this won't take long. Lemme just change in the bathroom," Stephanie suggested as she dashed into the room with a few clothes clutched in her hand. She wasn't too shy when it came to close friends, and sometimes he wondered if her improprieties went a little too far. "So we looking for anybody in particular here?" she called out from behind the closed door. "You know, like any big contract?"

  "A few, but mostly we're here for connections," he explained. He tried not to wonder what she looked like behind that door as he heard her bumping into things. "A guy I know said we could maybe get a few contacts by passing our cards around here."

  "Wait, lemme get this straight," Stephanie interrupted as she emerged from the bathroom. She looked impeccable with a snow-white blouse and matching dark blue skirt with dark blue high-heels. Her long dirty-blond hair was pulled back in a professional-looking pig tail. "We're here just to hand our cards to some people who might give us jobs?"

  "Yep, that's what elbow-rubbing is all about," Chuck scolded. "Now we'd better go get a taxi or we'll be too late to get the good grub on the table." If there was anything in this world Chuck liked better than socializing, it was food. Stephanie still couldn't figure out where he packed away all that stuff in his skinny frame.

  "All right, but don't take an entire plate of entres from th
e waiter like you did last time," she teased. A few conferences back he'd swiped a plate full of uncooked meat from a waiter and hoarded them for himself the entire evening.

  "I'm not going to do it at lunch, they don't serve those things there," he reminded as they stepped out into the hall. "I'll do it at dinner." She shot him a dirty look and he gave her a wide grin.

  "And you call me the child of this outfit," she noted.

  "Usually you are, but when it comes to food, that's my weakness."

  The partners made their way back downstairs and Chuck managed to hail a taxi to take them to a hotel a few dozen blocks down. With traffic the trip took almost as long driving as walking, and they had to pay for fair.

  "Gets more expensive each time we come here," Stephanie muttered as Chuck dished out the money. He didn't trust her with the purse.

  "Yeah, well, just think of it as advertising costs." He offered her his arm. She smiled and rolled her eyes, but nonetheless she took it and they walked into the lobby.

  Since they'd been at the conference before a few years running, they were old pros at this system. Lunch started in fifteen minutes and right now was the time to mingle. Chuck went to work on some new clients while Stephanie took the old ones she felt comfortable not killing. They made the rounds and together covered most of the group of about one hundred prospective clients. There was a lot of competition there, and some of it Stephanie absolutely hated.

  "Glad to see you here again, Mrs. Yager." She clenched her teeth, put on a sweet smile and turned around to face a man of about middle aged with a portly build. He was Mr. William Chism, and he was competition. Annoying competition. "Is your partner here, too?"

  "Mr. Taylor is over there speaking with a few old clients," she informed as she nodded her head toward the buffet table. Food covered the tablecloth and she couldn't help but admire her partner's ingenuity in getting their ahead of most everyone else. "Did your business do well last year?" Thankfully they only meant one or twice a year. This was time number one for this year.

  "Not as well as I'd hoped, but perhaps things will change for the better this year." She knew what he was hinting at. He'd been trying to get into her good graces for a few years now to try to merge their two companies. He also wanted to get into her skirt, but she'd light herself on fire before that happened. "And how did your company's profits do?"

  "Pretty well." She didn't care to tell him how well, even if she knew the numbers. That was for Chuck to keep track of. She just knew they'd made a tidy profit, enough for her to bring home a cool few thousand more than last year.

  "That's good to hear." He sidled up to her, and she tried not to stick out her tongue and run. "You still considering my offer?"

  "What offer?" Stephanie knew what he was talking about. It was that stupid offer to merge. She was just hoping playing dumb would tell him she wasn't interested. He didn't get the hint.

  "You know, about our companies getting together to do business." He smiled and gave her a wink. "It'd be pretty fun spending more time together."

  That was the end of her patience.

  "If you'll excuse me, I think I see my partner calling me."

  "I don't see anything," Chism argued as he looked around for the signal. By the time he looked back she was making a frantic beeline for the buffet table. He scowled and slunk off. He could take a hint when it was given with blunt-force trauma.

  Thankfully Chuck had just finished speaking with a prospective client when his partner sidled up to him.

  "You just saved me from a fate worse than death," Stephanie whispered to Chuck. She slid past him and hurriedly grabbed a plate.

  "Hunh? What?" He glanced around and didn't see any sort of danger until he noticed Chism walking away. "Oh, him."

  "That's what I just said," she agreed through a mouthful of food. "A fate worse than death."

  "He's not that bad, Stephanie. He's just a little, well, persistent."

  "Try being on the receiving end of that persistence," she grumpily argued.

  "Well, stay cool, we've got some new ones incoming," he whispered. Chuck smiled as a couple, a young man and an older woman, came up to them. "Mr. Gregory and Miss Seville, I assume?"

  "And you must be Mr. Taylor," the woman politely returned as she shook his hand.

  "At your service," he offered.

  Stephanie noticed that when he and the gentleman shook hands, the corners of his usually smiling mouth turned down. It was only for a moment, so maybe he smelled something bad. She certainly did, and she had to hold herself back from plugging her nose. Miss Seville had on way too much perfume.

  "We've heard a lot of good things from your previous clients," Mr. Gregory complimented. He looked passed Chuck to Stephanie. "And is this lovely young woman your partner?"

  "Oh, yes, this is Mrs. Stephanie Yager," Chuck added as he took her arm and brought her forward to meet their prospective clients. There was a purposeful emphasis on the marriage title. "Stephanie, this is Mr. George Gregory and Miss Cary Seville. They work in the advertising arm of a large firm specializing in art products." She got the hint. They would be big time clients if they could nab them from the competition.

  "Pleasure to meet you both," she greeted as she shook both their hands. For her turn, she found Mr. Gregory charming and Miss Seville a little severe with her attire as those beady eyes looked her up and down. She probably thought it wasn't formal enough since she was wearing a long, slim, red dress with thin straps. Her high heels looked tall enough to push her as tall as the Statue of Liberty, and she looked as severe. "So what sort of art products do you sell?"

  "Just the generic kind. You know, pencils and paper," Miss Seville brushed off. Apparently she didn't get the job for her love of art. Probably not even for her people skills. She must have had a sharp eye for profit, because she was eying Chuck and Stephanie like they were prospective food to be tossed aside. "Anything to keep the throngs of artists coming back," she pointedly remarked. Stephanie kept her smile on her face, but she wanted to deck the woman.

  "What she means to say is we sell a variety of high-quality products," Gregory chimed in. He smiled pleasantly at Stephanie. "I'm sure as the artistic wing of the business you can appreciate what we do for the art community."

  "Certainly." She had no idea what he was talking about, but he was cute when he tried to explain. "And were you in need of some outside representation on a current project?"

  "We were looking for some fresh ideas. Our teams has been a little stale lately in thinking up new slogans and designs." Looking at Miss Seville, Stephanie could understand that part. "Did you perhaps have an example of your work?"

  "Actually, we have some cards available," Chuck interrupted. He felt a little awkward in this conversation. Usually he was the one doing all the talking. He pulled out a few of the cards, and Gregory politely took two and glanced over them. "Very nice," he complimented as he glanced over to Stephanie. "But I was wondering if you had something bigger I could see."

  "I'm afraid not with us, sir," Stephanie disappointed him.

  "Then could I perhaps visit your studio one of these days?" he suggested. He looked at the card. "It's not too far off from my usual traveling."

  "I'm afraid not without an appointment, sir," Chuck abruptly explained. Stephanie was a little surprised by his clipped tone. He was usually so cool and collected.

  "How about we make it next week, say Monday at two o'clock?" Gregory was anything if not persistent.

  "That'd be fine," Stephanie interrupted. She grabbed Chuck's hand and led him away. "See you then."

  "Until then," their prospective client returned.

  "What's wrong with you?" she demanded to know once they were in a corner by themselves. She was more shocked than angry. "Are you sick or something?"

  "I don't really trust that guy, Boss," he vaguely explained. "There's something not right about him."

  "Did you smell the woman? There's definitely something not right about the amount of perfume sh
e was wearing." Stephanie leaned back against a nearby wall and wrinkled her nose. "She could've drowned us all in that stench if we'd stayed there any longer."

  "I'm serious, Boss, he's bad news."

  Stephanie looked at him, and from the look on his face she could definitely tell he thought it was serious. His eyebrows were pushed together and he was frowning pretty bad. She, on the other hand, didn't think much of it. He'd asked all the usual questions, he'd just been more persistent than others had been.

  "Maybe we could both use a drink," she suggested. She playfully dragged him from their corner and to the bar. "That'll take our minds off this stuff."

  "You know that's not a good idea, Boss," Chuck reminded. "You don't handle alcohol too well."

  "I'll only have a little, I promise."

  Those were always her famous last words. A few hours later and she was nearly being carried by her partner to their rooms.

  "What did I tell you?" he scolded. They came up to her door and he fumbled for the card key. "You always drink too much and eat too little."

  "I'll get the combo down some day, sir knight," she slurred. She had a goofy grin on her face and laughed when they got into her bedroom and he plopped her face down onto the bed. "That was fun, let's do it again."

  "We'll probably do it again tonight if you don't learn your lesson from this hangover." Chuck rummaged through her purse and found a small bottle of hot sauce. It was her instant drunk fix. "At least most everyone was gone before you suggested we all do the conga dance together."

  "But that woulda been so great!" she exclaimed as she rolled over and flung her arms into the air. "All those snobby people dancing in a line with me leading them."

  "Yeah, right into traffic." He popped open the bottle and sat down beside her. "Now open wide, it's your medicine time."

  "But I don't want any medicine," she whined. "I'm a girl, so I just wanna have fun."

  "Well, fun time's over."

  He took advantage of her next argument and tipped the bottle into her mouth. It had a slow pour cap, so she only got a few drops into her mouth. That was enough to make her eyes pop out and have her screaming for mercy. She clawed at her tongue as she rushed into the bathroom.