The KinKaid Wolf Pack Trilogy Read Free Page B

he tried to mold him into a reproduction of himself.
    Mason pressed the Start button, pulled away from the gas pump, and turned back onto the two-lane country road, heading west. He should have stayed on the main highway; it would have been faster. But God knew he was in no hurry to get home. So why not enjoy some of the countryside?
    Playtime had been over too soon, and his father expected him to promptly return to his junior executive position at TGI. And what Mason Thorne the first wanted, he never failed to get. If it couldn't be bought, then guilt and manipulation were his tools of persuasion.
    Even against his own son.
    A deep, tree-lined bend in the road loomed ahead, and Mason tapped the brake as he headed into the curve. He glanced down at the black leather briefcase propped on the passenger seat, its bronze TGI emblem encircled by a graphic of the world shined in the dappled sunlight. His stomach clenched at the sight. Mason swung his gaze back to the road, and his heart leaped into his throat.
    "Shit!" A large white wolf stood in his lane.
    Mason stomped on the brakes and yanked a hard right on the steering wheel. He veered wide, missing the wolf, but his tires dropped off the low shoulder of the road. Instinct had him pulling back left, but velocity careened the car out of control. His car shot across the centerline and slammed him into a ditch.
    Dazed, Mason ran his hands over his face as he sat staring at the large BMW letters in the center of the steering wheel. A long, deep breath slowly released from his lungs. Damn. That was too close. The wolf... Where...? Mason glanced to his left, then right.
    Large blue eyes locked with his on the other side of the passenger door. His breath hitched, and he gripped the leather-wrapped wheel. He'd never seen a real, live wolf this close. Wow, it was beautiful. Mason squirmed in his seat, reaching for his cell that had fallen onto the floorboard. The animal jerked, stepped back, then dashed into the dense tree line.
    Two hours and a tow truck ride later, Mason was still in Dover. He watched from the lobby as his Bimmer was hobbled into the bay of a local mechanic’s shop. Mason pushed on the double doors of the waiting area and slowly followed the progression of his car onto the pit rack. This being a small town, no signs were posted that stated customers had to remain out of the work area, like one would find at a large dealership.
    A young redheaded man popped out from behind the wheel, chocked the rear tire, and called out to another technician beneath the car. "She's all yours, Evin."
    "Thanks, Doug," a smooth, deep voice replied from the pit. Mason's brows lifted. Nice.
    The junior tech stepped toward the office, giving Mason a dismissive glance over his shoulder as he approached the rear bumper. With a click then a thump , followed by the sound of compressed air surging through the hose lines, the convertible's front tires lifted from the plate racks. Mason moved in and crouched by the front wheel that appeared to have taken the worst of the damage.
    "How bad does it look?" Mason rested his forearms on the linen pants that covered his thighs and peered around the displaced tire at the shadowed figure moving beneath the front end.
    "You've definitely got some bent parts here," the tech known as Evin replied in the same deep voice that skated across Mason's skin and lifted the hairs on his arms. "The good news is I think the damage is isolated to parts only, meaning it doesn’t appear you have any frame damage." Sexy Voice stepped from underneath the car and rounded the wheel.
    And Mason forgot to breathe.
    Damn. No man had the right to look that delicious.
    Straight and black-as-sin hair brushed the top of one shoulder, with the other side tucked behind his ear. Eyes the color of a clear summer sky captured his gaze and, in that moment, had Mason wanting to drop to his knees. Because every instinct told him that if he ever got to watch this man lose control, it would