How to Tame a Werewolf: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 3 Read Free Page B

on her laptop, then back up to the homeless man, then back down to the vineyard heir. Ian Somers and Trash Man couldn’t be more different. One had lived a charmed life with all the luxuries money and family had to offer. The other had clearly subsisted on the bare minimums. One sported the full cheeks of wealth and privilege. The other wore the stark cheekbones of disillusionment and loneliness. But Rue couldn’t deny what anyone could see. Although the men behind them were opposites, the eyes were oddly similar.
    “It’s freaky,” she said. “But you have the same eyes as a vineyard heir named Ian Somers.”
    Trash Man jerked back and shook his head, as though he’d misheard her. Rue just stared at him. Her mouth must’ve fallen open because she could feel the cold blast of the air conditioning hit the back of her throat. She might’ve said more but with only a shuddering noise to warn them, all the lights in the city shutoff, dropping them into total darkness.

Chapter Three
    Ian had never appreciated a blackout so much. How the hell did a cat shifter in Muuyaw, Arizona, recognize him by his eyes alone? He paused and his sense of humor kicked in. Muuyaw sounded like a nod to the huge cat population in the city. Instead, it was the Hopi word for moon. The Hopi nation couldn’t have come up with a better pun for cat shifters, even if they’d done it on purpose—moon and meow all rolled into one word. Ian nearly chuckled through the shock that this woman had recognized him when no one else had in two years. “Meow, Arizona,” the home of the most enticing kitty he’d ever met.
    Then the lights went out and the diner dropped into complete darkness.
    The kitty yelped. The dim glow of her laptop skidded sideways as she rushed to grab his hands. The other patrons erupted in concerned sounds and questions about what they should do, but the noise didn’t drown out kitty’s heartbeat. The rhythm of it blurred into a frantic whoosh inside his wolfen hearing. For some reason the dark scared the hell out of her. Ian forgot about nearly being recognized and grabbed her shaking hands, enveloping them both in the warmth of his larger ones.
    He still had trouble forming words after being in wolfen form for so long. Rather than try to speak, he gently pulled kitty forward across the table and pressed her trembling fingertips to his chest. He hoped feeling his steadiness would calm her. To make sure she understood him, he hummed in soothing tones that rumbled in his chest, and her pulse immediately slowed.
    As if on cue Cinna Mum’s generator kicked on. The faint illumination of the backup lights filled the room and the pretty kitty relaxed. She looked lovely as the tension eased out of her body, which riled his wolf. He wasn’t supposed to notice when women looked lovely anymore. But he couldn’t help it with her; every move she made was lovely. Whether frantically trying to impress her icy father, teasing Ian about demolishing cinnamon buns, or even when she tried to hide her fear.
    Through each of these emotional states the rich reddish brown of her skin shimmered in the light. The glow of her skin complimented the amber-ale hue of her eyes. Not to mention the glorious abundance of tiny tawny curls framing her face and falling to trace the curve of her neck. Her beauty sparkled in a wealth of browns, as if he’d found a priceless topaz in the middle of Arizona. Ian hated clichés but the term desert jewel sprang to mind and it suited her.
    His wolf rose closer to the surface, agitated by the direction of his thoughts. Ian could feel the amber burning behind his eyes. He’d been suckered into this kind of attraction before and, in the end, that one-sided love had burned him. Ian refused to go back to that kind of intense attraction. It led only to hurt. He wouldn’t allow himself to be made a fool of again.
    Tense from exerting his will over his wolf, the animal that perpetually prowled below his surface, Ian decided