Taming the Wolf (12 page)

When Marcus returned from his meeting later that afternoon, the last thing he expected was to find Samara playing poker with his father and his buddies.

Every Friday night, Sterling Wolf’s den was converted into the poker domain, complete with an octagonal-shaped table that served as the room’s centerpiece. Other than the players themselves, no one entered the poker domain on Friday nights—not even his father’s indomitable housekeeper. It became a testosterone-filled cave ripe with the stench of cigar smoke, male sweat and rowdy laughter.

So it seemed impossible that Marcus would find Samara seated at the table with the seven retired cops, as out of place as a ballerina at a rodeo.

His first instinct was to march into the room and snatch her from the table—a reaction not even he understood.
He was stopped by his brother, who’d hung around after Marcus left to work on a presentation he was giving at a restaurateur’s convention next week.
Leaning in the doorway of the den, Michael reached out, detaining Marcus with a hand on his shoulder. Shaking his head wordlessly, Michael pointed across the room, clearly amused by what he’d been watching.
A roar of incredulous male groans erupted from the poker table. “Another royal flush!” George Wilkins cried in disgust. “I don’t believe this!”
Neither did Marcus. He watched, in amazement, as a grinning Samara leaned forward to haul in her earnings from the pot. “You fellas are making me quite a rich woman this afternoon,” she drawled, making a show of counting her money before pocketing it.
Sterling laughed uproariously. “Gentlemen, I think we might’ve been better off if we’d asked one of my boys to join us!”
“Too late now,” grumbled Bernard “Bubba” Ward. “Anyway, she’s got an unfair advantage over the rest of us.”
“And what’s that, Bubba?” Sterling inquired.
“Look at her! She’s as pretty as the dickens. I can hardly concentrate on my cards.”
The complaint was followed by another round of laughter and guffaws. Sterling removed his porkpie hat from his head—the lucky hat from his detective days at the Atlanta PD—and settled it atop Samara’s head. The brim slanted crookedly across her eyebrows, partially obscuring her face but doing nothing to hide the megawatt grin.
“Does that help, Bubba?” Sterling demanded.
A red flush crept across Bubba’s pale face. “Well, maybe just a little.”
The others ribbed him good-naturedly.
“Let’s face it, fellas,” Melvin Tooks announced. “We’ve been outmatched by a superior opponent.”
“That’s right,” Sterling chimed in. “It just hasn’t been our week. But you know what the best part is? There’s only one of us here who has to eat crow for underestimating Ms. Layton.”
Seven pairs of eyes swung to George Wilkins, who seemed to shrink down into his chair. “So I was wrong about her,” he muttered sheepishly. “I’ve been wrong before.”
Sterling grinned in satisfaction. “Samara, is there anything you’d like to say to our good friend George before we call it quits?”
Samara’s grin widened. “It’s been a real pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wilkins. Now if you kind gentlemen will excuse me,” she said, rising from the table, “I think I’ll head on out and decide what to do with all this loot. And, no, Mr. Wilkins, going on a shopping spree is not one of my options, so don’t you even go there.”
He grinned and ducked his head as the others laughed. Samara rounded the table and planted a conciliatory kiss on his ruddy cheek, and Marcus would have sworn the man blushed if he weren’t so dark-skinned.
“Where’s my kiss?” Bubba protested. “And can you go to the movies with us tonight?”
Samara sighed dramatically. “Thanks for the invite, Mr. Ward, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check. You fellas enjoy yourselves—and let me know if y’all need to borrow any money for tickets.”
She left a trail of raucous laughter in her wake as she left the room.
Grinning, Michael leaned over to Marcus. “Where did you find her? She’s incredible.”
Marcus didn’t answer, too busy staring at Samara as she paused to speak to his father, managing to look both adorable and sexy in Sterling’s porkpie hat. When she glanced up and saw Marcus standing there, her smile widened with pleasure. It nearly knocked him off his feet.
He must have looked as dumbstruck as he felt, because Michael chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”
Marcus swallowed hard. “What day?”
“You’ve finally met your match, Little Man. You’ve finally been tamed.”
Marcus said absolutely nothing, afraid his brother’s words were too close to the truth.

“Thanks, Diane. Please send her up.” Samara put the finishing touches on a report she’d been working on, saved the file and exited the program. She swiveled away from the computer just as Brianna Lynch appeared in her doorway.

Samara smiled at her. “Thanks for coming, Brianna. Please close the door and have a seat.”
Brianna complied, sitting down almost gingerly in the chair opposite Samara’s desk. She still wore her waitress uniform from the downtown restaurant where she worked, a simple white blouse over a pleated black skirt. In her haste, she’d forgotten to remove the little green apron bearing the restaurant’s name and insignia. Raindrops glistened on flawless cheeks the color of café au lait. Thick shoulder-length braids marched back neatly from her face, still gently rounded from the weight she’d gained during pregnancy.
Brianna and her four-month-old daughter, Lola, had been abandoned when Brianna’s boyfriend panicked and decided he couldn’t handle the responsibility of fatherhood. A pregnant, devastated Brianna had come to the Yorkin Institute in search of help and a nonjudgmental shoulder to lean on. She and Samara had bonded almost immediately.
“Is it raining hard out there?” Samara asked.
“It’s not too bad.” Brianna set aside her umbrella and wiped moisture from her face.

“I know you’re on your lunch break,” Samara said, “so I’ll make this quick. The reason I called is because we have a job opening here I thought you might be interested in. The coordinator of our employment counseling center has accepted a position with another company. She’s graduating from college in May and wants to begin working in her chosen field, so it’s a wonderful opportunity for her. But it leaves us with a vacancy that needs to be filled rather quickly. Our human resources manager, who supervises the counseling center, is stretched pretty thin as it is.”

Brianna’s thick-lashed brown eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You want me to work in the employment counseling center?”
Samara nodded, smiling. “I think you’d be perfect, Brianna. You’re smart, organized and conscientious. I’ve seen you in action at the restaurant, and you have excellent customer service skills, which are an important part of the coordinator position—being able to assist job seekers when they come to the center. Many don’t have regular access to computers, so they’re not familiar with how to navigate their way around our database. They need someone to provide technical assistance and, sometimes, a sympathetic listening ear.” She paused. “You’ve been in their shoes, Brianna. You understand just where they’re coming from.”
“B-But I don’t have a college degree,” Brianna said faintly.
“Neither did Crystal when she first started here. She worked part-time and attended classes at night. Before she resigned, we were going to bump her up to full-time now that we have the available funds, because we really need someone in the center on a fulltime basis. Joanne, our human resources manager, will train you on the database and teach you the filing system. Once you finish your GED classes and start college next year, we can arrange some type of flextime schedule. And don’t tell me you’re not going to college,” Samara warned before Brianna could open her mouth, “because you are, even if I have to enroll you myself and pick your classes for you—although I’d much rather leave that part to you.”

Brianna smiled tremulously. Her eyes glittered with excitement. “I-I don’t know what to say, Samara.”
“Say you’ll accept the job.”
“Yes! Yes, I’ll accept the job. Thank you so much, Samara. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“You don’t have to repay me. Just prove me right and do a good job like I know you’re capable of, and that will be repayment enough.” Samara’s tone softened. “This isn’t charity, Brianna. I’m giving you this opportunity because I truly believe in you and want to see you succeed in life. The starting salary is entry-level, but I’m sure it’s a bit more than what you’re earning now at the restaurant. As a full-time employee, you’ll also receive benefits—tuition assistance, 401(k), health care. No more coming out of the pocket to take Lola to the doctor.”
“How soon can I start?” Brianna asked eagerly.
“Crystal has agreed to stay on through next week and help train the new coordinator. So the sooner you can quit your job at the restaurant, the better.”
“Consider it done.” Grinning, Brianna glanced at her watch. “I’d better get back before my lunch break ends. It’s really busy this time of day.”
Samara nodded as Brianna rose from the chair. The girl’s expression was earnest. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me, Samara. I promise not to let you down with this job, or anything else for that matter.”
“I know,” Samara said with a soft smile. “Oh, Brianna, before you leave…” She opened the bottom desk drawer and grabbed her purse. She withdrew a sealed envelope containing the money from her poker winnings and handed it to Brianna with a wink. “Just a little something I picked up over the weekend.”
Puzzled, Brianna tore open the envelope and peeked inside. Her eyes bulged at the sight that greeted her. “Oh my God! There’s over four hundred dollars in here!” She raised incredulous eyes to Samara’s face. “I-I can’t accept all this money, Samara.”
“Sure you can,” Samara countered briskly. “Consider it a signing bonus. Or, if you want, think of it as tips you deserved but never received from cheap customers.”
Tears misted the girl’s eyes even as she grinned. What waitress couldn’t relate to being stiffed by cheap customers? Samara certainly remembered those days.
“What should I do with the money?” Brianna asked, her voice thick with emotion.
“Whatever you want. Buy a nice Easter dress for Lola and yourself, then use the rest to open a savings account. Just a suggestion.”
“Thank you, Samara. Thank you so much.” Overcome with gratitude, Brianna hurried around the desk and threw her arms tightly around Samara’s neck. Samara laughed and hugged her back, feeling a bit misty-eyed herself. In many ways, Brianna Lynch had become the little sister she never had, but had always wanted.
“You’re going to be just fine,” Samara whispered into Brianna’s hair. After another moment, she drew back and tweaked the girl’s nose affectionately. “Now get out of here before you’re late. I don’t want those folks firing you before you have a chance to quit.”
Brianna grinned as she bent to retrieve her umbrella from the floor. “We’re supposed to get back our test results in class tonight. I’ll call and let you know my grade.”
“You do that. And kiss Lola for me.”
“I will. Thanks again, Samara.” Brianna left the office giving a shy wave.
Samara dialed Joanne Newsome’s extension to inform the relieved human resources manager about their new hire and to request the necessary forms to begin the paperwork.
After she hung up the phone, she consulted her watch and saw that it was two-thirty. She’d worked straight through lunch, making phone calls and finalizing details for the summer launch of the Youth for the Arts and Literacy project. That morning she’d attended a meeting with Jasmine Woodbury, a dance instructor at the Duke Ellington School of Performing Arts. The teacher was excited about the YAL project and already knew of several wellknown artists who’d be willing to conduct community workshops. Before the school year ended, Jasmine would hold auditions for the dance troupe, and once the student participants were selected, they could begin practicing for summer performances.
That week, Samara had meetings with two of their former corporate sponsors interested in renewing partnerships with the Institute. FYI’s debts would soon be settled, their creditors appeased. Things were finally looking up for FYI.
So why does it feel as if something’s still missing?
Samara chewed her bottom lip, staring blindly at her computer screen. For the umpteenth time in two days, her thoughts strayed to Marcus. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since Sunday night, when he’d driven her home from the airport. During the two-hour flight, he’d seemed a little withdrawn, making no attempt to seduce her as they’d joked about earlier in the day. And when they reached her house, he’d quietly declined her invitation to come inside, citing an early meeting in the morning.
That was when she knew something was definitely wrong. Every woman on the planet understood that when a man used the “early morning meeting” excuse, he was as good as history. Now, thinking back on it, Samara realized the kiss Marcus had given her at his father’s house—the one that nearly knocked her off her feet—had been the kiss of death. In his own way, he’d been telling her goodbye.
Oh, girl, stop being so melodramatic. You don’t know what was going through that man’s mind when he kissed you like that.
The bottom line was, she didn’t know Marcus Wolf as well as she would’ve liked. Although they’d spent an entire weekend together, talked for hours on end and connected on many levels— mentally and physically—she knew there were a lot of personal things he hadn’t shared with her. She didn’t know, for example, how his parents’ divorce had affected him, and what kind of relationship he had with his mother, who lived in Minnesota. Because he’d seemed reluctant to discuss her, Samara hadn’t pried. But she’d sensed pain in his silence, and she’d wanted to explore the source of it.
She sighed, impatient with herself. She was spending way too much time worrying about Marcus. Just because she hadn’t heard from him in two days didn’t mean he’d lost interest in her. But something was definitely wrong.
She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d scared him off by asking that stupid question about his other relationships. Her mother and grandmother had always warned her that nothing drove a man away faster than a jealous woman. It was the one thing the two women had agreed on.
Samara scowled. If Marcus Wolf thought she was going to start acting clingy and possessive, he’d better think again. She had better things to do than chase after a man.
Even a wonderful, amazing man like him.
“I never know what mood you’re going to be in when I step foot in this office.”
Samara looked up and smiled at Melissa standing in the doorway. “Hey, girl. Come on in, pull up a seat.”
Melissa arched an amused brow. “You’re actually inviting me into your office? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Samara Layton?”
Samara chuckled dryly. “I missed you around here yesterday. That was probably the first time you’ve ever called in sick in the ten years you’ve worked here. I was at a meeting when you called this morning, but Diane told me you had a doctor’s appointment. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is better than okay.” Melissa sat down in the visitor’s chair, hazel eyes gleaming. “I just found out that Gary and I are going to be parents.”
Samara’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Melissa grinned, rubbing her flat stomach. “I’m pregnant, Samara.”
With an ecstatic squeal, Samara jumped up from her chair and rounded the desk to wrap her friend in a big hug. “Congratulations, Melissa! I’m so happy for you!”
“I met Gary for breakfast right afterward. He was so excited, Samara. You would think the man had just won the lottery!”
Samara laughed, drawing back to cradle Melissa’s face in her hands. “And what about you? How thrilled are you?”
“Very. Oh, I know it’s going to be a huge lifestyle adjustment. No more dropping everything and going to the movies or ballet performances whenever we want. No more sleeping in late on weekends.”
Samara guffawed. “You talk as if the baby will be here tomorrow! You and Gary still have plenty of time to enjoy those things. When are you due anyway?”
“Late September.” Grinning, Melissa sat down again as Samara perched a hip on the corner of her desk. “I can hardly believe it. I keep rubbing my stomach, unable to believe that a tiny life is already growing inside me. God, I’m going to be someone’s mother!”
“And you’re going to be as good at it as you are at everything else.”
“I hope you’re right.” Melissa worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, and Samara’s heart stirred at the naked vulnerability reflected in her friend’s eyes. It was hard to imagine Melissa, who was used to taking charge of every aspect of her life, being daunted by the prospect of motherhood. But given the many uncertainties that came with the job, Samara could see how it was possible to feel intimidated, to question one’s own qualifications.
She reached over, gently touching Melissa’s knee. “You’re going to be just fine. I’m betting that it won’t take very long for that little boy or girl in there to realize how incredibly lucky they are to have a mommy like you.”
Tears shimmered in Melissa’s eyes. “I really needed to hear that. Thank you, Samara.”
Samara smiled softly. “You know I meant every word.” She clapped her hands together. “This calls for a celebration. I’m thinking lunch in Georgetown, a toast with sparkling cider!”
“Tomorrow,” Melissa said, rising from the chair. “I have tons of invoices to be mailed out this week, and the day’s almost over. Gary has already put me on notice that my days of working late at the office are numbered.”
Samara grinned. “Girl, that man is going to spoil you rotten.”
“Tell me about it. He’s already promising foot and back rubs every night, commuting together so I don’t have to drive, an unlimited supply of Häagen Dazs ice cream…”
Samara groaned enviously. “Don’t rub it in.”
Melissa chuckled, pausing at the door. “Before I forget, how was your weekend with Marcus?”
Samara hesitated, then answered truthfully, “It was wonderful. He showed me the time of my life.”
“I’ll just bet he did,” Melissa said with a lascivious grin. “Over, and over, and over again.”
Laughing, Samara pointed at Melissa’s stomach. “See, it’s that dirty mind of yours that got you in trouble in the first place.”
“You know it! But, hey, I’m not the one who’s in trouble here. You are.”
“How’s that?”
Melissa gave her a knowing smile. “Judging by the way your eyes light up every time you hear Marcus Wolf’s name, I would say you’re in serious trouble, girlfriend. It won’t be long now before you’re writing his name across your blotter and drawing little hearts around it.”
Heat stung Samara’s cheeks. “Don’t be silly. I didn’t even do that kind of stuff in junior high school.”
Melissa’s smile widened. “Well, you know what they say. There’s a first time for everything.”
Long after Melissa left, her parting words echoed in Samara’s mind.
There’s a first time for everything.
Including a first time for falling in love.
Samara froze, shaken by the thought.
Could it be true?
Had she been foolish enough to fall in love with Marcus, a man who was about as attainable as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow?
After years of avoiding serious romantic entanglements and carefully safeguarding her heart, had she finally allowed the unthinkable to happen?
Closing her eyes, Samara leaned her head back against the chair and groaned softly. She didn’t have to look too deep within herself to find the answer.
God help her, she already knew. And Melissa was absolutely right.
Samara was in serious trouble.