Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins: Beauty and the Wolf

Since her next lecture wasn’t for another forty-five minutes, she planned to make good use of the time to catch up on a few non-classroom duties.

Her desk was littered with data reports, printouts of class grading curves and miscellaneous information. Deep in thought, she contemplated a possible change in her syllabus notes for the current lecture series on classic British authors of the twentieth century.

“Hey, Professor.” The deep male voice was soft, just above a murmur, but Frankie jumped nonetheless, startled, her gaze flying to the doorway.

Eli leaned against the doorjamb, one broad shoulder propped against the walnut edge. He was dressed for work in a blue-and-white plaid flannel shirt that hung unbuttoned over a white T-shirt tucked into the waistband of snug faded jeans. A black leather belt was threaded through the belt loops of the jeans, and dusty black boots covered his feet.

“Hey,” she responded faintly.

“Sorry I startled you.” He shoved away from the doorjamb and walked toward her, his stride easy. “I had to stop at a job site near here, and when I picked up coffee, I thought about you, probably stuck in your office, slaving away. So I brought you a latte—double shot, vanilla, right?” He held up two take-out Starbucks cups with lids.

Frankie beamed at him, delighted. “You remembered.” She took the cup and sipped, closing her eyes in pleasure. “I owe you.”

“And I’ll collect,” he shot back, grinning when her eyes opened and she studied him with suspicion. He picked up a straightback wooden chair and spun it around, straddling it, his forearms resting along the top of the polished oak back. “Any new thoughts about our next move against Harry?”

Frankie leaned back in her swivel chair, propping her stockinged feet atop the open bottom desk drawer, ankles crossed. “Believe it or not, Harry called this morning. He’s having a group of people over for dinner on Friday night to welcome a visiting software mogul from London. He asked if I’d like to join them.” She looked at Eli from beneath lowered lashes. “I told him yes, providing I could bring a date.”

“And what did Harry say?” Eli drawled, lifting his cup to sip, his blue eyes watching her over the rim.

“He asked me if my date was Nicholas Dean.”

Eli stiffened, his eyes narrowing over her. “He’s still pushing Dean at you.”

Frankie nodded. “Apparently.”

“Has Dean called you?” Eli asked, his voice neutral.

“Interestingly enough, no, he hasn’t.” Frankie tucked her hair behind her ear.

Eli’s gaze tracked her fingers’ movement, lingering over her hair before fastening on her face once again. “So Harry must not be giving Dean the same kind of verbal nudging he’s giving you,” he guessed.

“I suspect not.” Frankie frowned, considering. “Has Harry tried to grill you about me?”

“Not yet.” Eli shrugged. “But we have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the Wolf Construction proposal for the south Seattle project. Maybe he’s waiting until then.” He sipped his coffee once again. “Harry’s cagey—I wouldn’t put anything past him, and if he’s not nudging Nicholas about asking you out, he must have a reason.”

“Or maybe Nicholas refused to get involved in Harry’s schemes,” Frankie said. “And if he did, then our plan isn’t really necessary.”

Eli’s eyes glinted. “If you believe that, then you don’t know Harry as well as I thought you did.”

“What makes you say that?” Frankie hoped Eli had a really good answer, because she was enjoying seeing him and didn’t want their dates to end.

“Harry always has a bigger view of his projects, and if fixing you up with Nicholas didn’t work out, he would go to plan B.”

“And what’s plan B?” Frankie asked.

“Not what—who. I have no idea who Harry would pick out to be the next candidate, but I’m sure he has another name on his list as a backup for Nicholas.”

“Of course.” Frankie sighed, tense muscles relaxing. “You’re right. Harry always has a plan. Mom said that’s the reason he was always so good at chess.”

“That sounds like Harry.” Eli glanced at his watch. “Time for me to go—I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.” He stood, swinging the chair back into its original position. “What time do you want me to pick you up on Friday?”

“How about seven?”

“I’ll see you then.” His gaze flicked to her mouth, lingered, before returning to her eyes. “Have a good afternoon,” he murmured, his deep voice a rumble.

And he was gone, before Frankie could gather her wits after that hot, focused stare.

Several minutes later, she was still sitting motionless, staring blankly at the notes on her desk when, for the second time in a half hour, knuckles rapped against her open office door. She looked up to find her friend and coworker, assistant professor Sharon Katz, standing on the threshold. Before Frankie could say hello, Sharon spoke.

“Wow, Frankie, who was that guy?” she asked, curiosity lighting her face. “He’s gorgeous.”

Frankie laughed at her friend’s expression. “He’s a friend of my cousin Justin.”

“And he’s visiting you … why?”

“He brought me a latte.” Frankie lifted the Starbucks cup and saluted Sharon with it before drinking.

“Nice.” Sharon leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed, a sheaf of papers in one hand. “Come on, fess up. Are you dating him?”

“I am.” Frankie grinned when Sharon rolled her eyes and fanned herself with the papers.

“Way to go, Professor.” She straightened, glancing over her shoulder. “Darn, students are already filing into my lecture hall. I have to go—let’s have lunch tomorrow, and you can fill me in on all the details, okay?”

“Okay.” Frankie turned back to the half-completed report on her desk as Sharon disappeared, the quick tap of her heels fading away down the hall.

Anticipation buoyed Frankie over the next day. But Friday morning brought disappointing news. Her department head emailed to tell her attendance was mandatory at an impromptu after-work cocktail party. She suspected her boss wanted to impress his superiors with the presence of the entire department.

Disappointed that she had to cancel her plans with Eli that evening, Frankie dialed his cell phone several times, but each time the call went immediately to his answering service. As the morning flew by and became afternoon, she grew more concerned that she wouldn’t be able to catch him before he left the house to pick her up at her condo.

She tried reaching him at the office, but when the message center picked up, she remembered Eli telling her that he’d given the secretaries the afternoon off. She left a message with the answering service but the operator couldn’t guarantee Eli would get it before Monday morning when the office staff returned and picked up messages.

Frankie hated the thought that Eli might think she’d stood him up but couldn’t think of another way to reach him.

Unless she could catch him on a job site, she thought with sudden inspiration.

She collected her purse and left her office in Liberty Hall. She was fairly certain she knew the address of the Wolf Construction site not far from campus. She had no idea whether Eli would be there or not, but she hoped to find someone who could tell her how to contact him. Within ten minutes, after a wrong turn that had her backing out of a dead-end street, she found the site.

The skeleton of what would become an upscale, five-story condo building rose in the air above her as she turned off the street and onto the bumpy dirt lot. Puddles of water left by the early morning downpour dotted the ground, and Frankie avoided them as best she could. Still, she knew her just-washed BMW would need another bath, and soon.

A contractor’s trailer stood at the end of the lot, and several pickup trucks were parked in front of it, two of which had Wolf Construction logos on their doors. Frankie hoped that meant Eli was in the trailer, and she mentally crossed her fingers as she parked next to one of the trucks and got out.

Skirting a muddy puddle, she climbed the two wooden steps and knocked on the metal trailer door.

“Come in.”

Frankie didn’t recognize the deep male voice, but nevertheless she pushed the door open and stepped inside, halting abruptly.

Three men stood at a drafting table that was littered with blueprints and notes. A fourth man, his eyes bright blue in a lined face below a shock of white hair, sat in a battered office chair, one foot propped on the opposite knee as he leaned back.

None of the four were Eli. All of them were big, broad and dressed alike in faded jeans, plaid flannel shirts and muddy work boots. And all of them watched her with alert male gazes.

Frankie returned their interested stares with a friendly but reserved glance. She’d never met Eli’s brothers or his grandfather, but the resemblance was unmistakable. These four had to be related to him.

“Hello. I’m looking for Eli Wolf.”

“I’m his brother Connor,” one of three men at the table drawled. “You’re too pretty for Eli, honey. I’d be happy to help you—with whatever you need.”

Taken aback, Frankie was speechless for only a second before the twinkle in Connor’s eye reassured her. She smiled. “Sorry—honey—but it’s Eli I need to find.”

“Smart woman.”

The deep, amused voice came from her left, and before Frankie could fully turn, Eli slipped an arm around her waist and bent to brush a quick kiss against her cheek.

“Hi, Frankie. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been trying to reach you, but you didn’t answer your cell phone,” she told him. “I have to go to a faculty cocktail party right after work, so I can’t make dinner at Harry’s tonight. I’m sorry to cancel so late, but my boss just informed me attendance is mandatory. Apparently, the department head wants to impress the university president with our show of support.” She grimaced. “I’d rather spend an hour or two being tortured by cannibals, but I can’t get out of it.”

“Sounds pretty bad,” he said with sympathy. “Did you let your mom know we won’t be able to join her at Harry’s?”

She nodded. “Mom said she’d apologize to Harry for me.” She looked up at him. “You should go, anyway—everyone has to eat, right? And maybe you could pin Harry down about the contract.”

He shook his head. “No, thanks—I think I’ll pass.” He smiled, a slow curve of his lips that made her breath hitch. “Just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I hate to interrupt you two,” Connor broke in. “But don’t you think you should introduce us to the lady, Eli?”

Frankie had been so focused on Eli that she’d all but forgotten the presence of the other four men. Now she realized they were all watching her and Eli with interest and curiosity. Even the older man had a curious gleam in his eye.

“Sorry,” Eli said easily, clearly not the slightest bit concerned at Connor’s inference he’d been lacking in manners. “Frankie Fairchild, these are my brothers—Connor, Ethan and Matthew. And the gentleman in the chair there is our grandfather, Jack.” He bent to whisper in her ear, loud enough that the others could hear. “All of them are disreputable and untrustworthy, and they cheat at cards—so watch out if you ever get in a poker game with them.”

“Good afternoon,” Frankie said, her amused gaze meeting each of theirs. Eli’s three brothers were as tall, brawny and as handsome—each in his own way—as Eli. They all had coal-black hair and blue eyes and an air of assured male strength. In fact, she thought dazedly, the amount of testosterone filling the air was palpable. She glanced at Jack and found him watching her shrewdly. She felt her cheeks warm under his knowing gaze.

“They’re kind of overwhelming, all in one room, aren’t they, missy?” he asked, his blue eyes warming. “Just like their grandpa, they have to beat women off with a stick.”

“Geez, Granddad,” Matt groaned, giving Frankie an apologetic look. “Sorry, Frankie. We can dress him up but can’t take him out—not anywhere in polite company, at least.”

“Hmmph,” the older man snorted. “Who’d have guessed I’d run into polite company in a construction trailer? Usually it’s just you four, and you don’t qualify as polite.”

Frankie laughed out loud. She could easily see the affection between the four brothers and their grandfather and was charmed. “I’d better get going.” Frankie looked up at Eli and found him watching her, his blue eyes half concealed by thick lashes as he looked down at her. “I’m keeping you from your work, and I have a class in—” she glanced at her wristwatch “—twenty-five minutes. I’ll leave and let you all get back to what you were doing.” She waved a hand at the drafting table with its unrolled stack of blueprints held flat by a large rock sitting on each corner.

“You’re not keeping us from work,” Eli told her.

“Not at all,” Ethan added, his voice a slow, deep drawl.

“We were all tired of looking at these damn blueprints,” Connor added.

“Nevertheless, I’d better get back to campus.” Frankie turned, and Eli was there before her, opening the door and holding it for her. “It was nice to meet you,” she told the four Wolf men.

They echoed a chorus of goodbyes, and Frankie stepped outside, followed by Eli, who pulled the door shut.

“Where are you parked?” He frowned at the wet ground.

“Just over there.” Frankie pointed at her car, just beyond the big dual-wheeled white pickup.

Eli took her elbow, scanning the ground between the steps and her car before walking beside her. “You’re not wearing the right kind of boots for this weather. I’ll get you a pair of rubber mud boots to keep in your car.”

Frankie felt inordinately pleased that he seemed to expect her to visit again. “That would be nice,” she murmured.

They reached her BMW, and he pulled open the door.

“How long do you think you’ll have to stay at the cocktail party tonight?” he asked, leaning on the open door to look down at her as she turned the ignition key.

“Not too long, I hope,” she told him. “I’m planning to slip out as soon as possible and head home. It’s been a long week—I think I’ll curl up in front of the TV and watch something mindless.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a good plan. Drive carefully.” He stood back, closing the door with a quiet thunk.

As Frankie negotiated the bumps and puddles of the lot and turned onto the smoothly paved street, she could see Eli in the rearview mirror. He stood, hands thrust in jeans pockets, the sun glinting off his black hair, watching her drive away.

She’d been looking forward to seeing him this evening, and having to cancel their dinner date made the prospect of the boring cocktail party seem even more dull.

She turned a corner and could no longer see Eli nor the construction site.

No doubt about it, she thought with a sigh. She was much more interested in spending an evening with Eli than schmoozing at a cocktail party with her boss and coworkers.

Apparently, she wasn’t immune to the lure of a tall, dark and handsome man. Especially not when the man was Eli.

Eli watched Frankie’s car disappear into traffic before he turned and reentered the work trailer.

“Pretty woman, Eli. Where’d you meet her?” Connor asked.

“Does she have a sister?” Matt asked, grinning when Eli shot him a quick glare as he crossed to the kitchenette and poured a mug of coffee.

“Yes, she has sisters, and no, I’m not going to introduce you,” Eli said as Matt’s eyes lit with interest. “And I’ve known her since she was just a kid.”

“Yeah?” Ethan frowned at him. “I don’t remember a girl named Frankie.”

“Francesca Fairchild—she’s Justin’s cousin.”

“I still don’t remember her,” Connor said.

“She must be Cornelia Fairchild’s daughter,” Jack said with a decisive nod. “Cornelia’s the widow of Harry Hunt’s original partner—I heard the families stayed close after Cornelia’s husband died, and the girls consider Harry their uncle and his boys their cousins.”

“That’s right.” Eli carried his mug to the drafting table and set it on the ledge above the blueprints. “Frankie’s closer to Justin than any of his brothers. I met her through Justin when she was still in grade school.”

“Was she gorgeous in grade school, too?” Matt asked.

“She’s always been pretty,” Eli answered shortly. He leveled a lethal glare at Matt. “And she’s off-limits.”

“Whoa.” Matt took a step back, lifting his hands in mock defense, palms out. “Sorry, big brother. Didn’t know you’d already staked a claim.”

Ethan laughed, Jack’s chuckle joining him.

“You must be blind, Matt,” Connor said. “Nobody could have missed that whole she’s-mine-touch-her-you-die thing Eli had going on a few minutes ago.”

Matt’s deep laugh joined the other three, and Eli threw them a disgusted glare.

“Can we move past this and get back to work?”

“Sure,” Matt said, his eyes twinkling as he clapped Eli on the shoulder. “It’s nice to see you getting irritated with us over a woman, Eli. Must mean you’re finally recovered from the accident and back to normal.”

Eli growled a noncommittal response, and the conversation returned to finding a solution for a glitch in the design of the second-floor balcony supports.

Later, when his brothers and Jack left the trailer and he was alone, Eli’s thoughts returned to Frankie.

Where the hell had that surge of possessiveness come from when she’d stepped into the trailer and met his brothers? The Wolf men had hammered out an unwritten rule while in their teens—none of them ever poached each other’s dates. He had no reason to worry that Matt, Ethan or Connor would do more than flirt harmlessly with Frankie as long as he was dating her.

He’d never before felt the urge to threaten his brothers over a woman. So, why now—and why Frankie?

“The protective thing must be left over from Justin and me vetting her boyfriends when she was a teenager,” he muttered aloud, frowning unseeingly at the drawings taped on the wall.

Of course that was it, he thought with relief. He’d known Frankie a long time—it was only natural he’d feel protective. No doubt if he’d had a sister, he’d feel the same way.

A small voice in his head uttered a loud hah!

Eli ignored it, grabbed his hardhat and left the trailer to purposely stay busy so he wouldn’t have time to ponder all the reasons why he might feel so strongly about Frankie and other men.

Even if the other men were his brothers.

Even if he knew she was perfectly safe with them.

It was going to be a long afternoon, he thought with resignation.

It was nearly seven o’clock before Frankie reached home that evening. The afternoon sunshine had given way to dark skies and sheets of rain that drenched her as she ran from her car. She shrugged out of her raincoat, hanging it on a hook beside the door, then toed off her wet pumps the moment she closed and locked the condo door behind her. Bending to pick them up, she walked in damp-stockinged feet into her bedroom. She dropped her purse and leather briefcase onto the bed, set her shoes next to the floor heat vent and stripped off her jacket, blouse, skirt and hose.

She flipped on lights as she went, turning on the shower and letting it run to heat up the space while she shed bra and panties, dropping them into the hamper before she stepped into the shower.

The water pulsed against her skin, and she turned her face into the spray, relishing its heat for several moments before she shampooed and scrubbed.

She felt a thousand times better when she left the bathroom. She’d towel-dried her hair then run a brush through the tangles until it lay sleek and smooth before donning a clean black bra, panties and gray University of Washington sweatpants. She drew on a matching gray UW hoodie, zipping the front closed to a few inches below her collarbones.

Her stomach growled as she walked barefoot into the living room, pausing to switch on the television to a cable twenty-four-hour news channel before heading for the kitchen. She shifted items on the refrigerator shelves, but nothing appealed. She was just contemplating calling a local Chinese restaurant to order delivery when the doorbell rang.

Sighing, she padded out of the kitchen, across the living room to the tiny entryway. I bet it’s Mrs. Ankiewicz, she thought. Her eighty-year-old neighbor often dropped in on a Friday evening if Frankie was home. Much as she adored the feisty old lady and enjoyed their conversations, however, she was more interested in food at the moment.

One glance through her front door’s small glass viewer, however, had Frankie catching her breath.

Eli stood in the hall outside.

The sense of disappointment she’d felt since leaving him at the work site lifted, instantly replaced by a surge of delight.

Oh, no! Her fingers tightened on the doorknob. She leaned her forehead against the solid wood door panel, nearly groaning in disbelief.

What happened to her determination not to give in to her attraction to him? She knew he was dangerous for her heart—she did not want to take any of this too seriously.

She lifted her head, narrowing her eyes at her reflection in the mirror.

We’re just two people conspiring to teach Uncle Harry a lesson, she told her reflection sternly. Eli isn’t really interested in me—I’m not his girlfriend and he’s not my boyfriend.

Not really. She repeated the words in her mind but she couldn’t ignore the mirror’s reflection of the anticipation that flushed her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes.

She turned away from the mirror and its too-revealing image, drawing a deep breath and straightening her lips in an attempt to erase the smile.

Then she pulled open the door.

Chapter Seven

“Hi.” Unfortunately, she suspected her expression told him exactly how happy she was to see him, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I thought you might be hungry, so I picked up a pizza—unless the food at the party was good …?” He lifted a square box in one hand; his other held a six-pack of imported beer.

“The food was awful, actually. Come in.” She caught his arm and pulled him inside, closing the door to lead him to the kitchen. “You’re drenched. It must be raining harder than it was when I came home.” She drew in a deep breath when he set the pizza box down on the table and lifted the top. “That smells like heaven.” With perfect timing, her stomach let out a low rumble.

“I’m guessing that means you are hungry?” A smile curved his lips as he shrugged out of his damp jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. He wore faded, well-worn jeans and a light blue polo shirt, the fabric stretching snugly over the hard, defined muscles of chest and thighs.

“That means I’m starving!” She laughed and opened cabinet doors to take out plates. “Why don’t you take off your boots and set them on the floor grate over there.” She pointed at the scrollwork vent under the window. “I use the vents for my shoes all the time—works like a charm.”

Eli nodded and pulled off his boots, padding in stockinged feet to set them on the grate.

“Will you grab some napkins out of the drawer next to the sink?” Frankie plied a wheeled cutter with quick efficiency, cutting the pizza into slices.

They carried loaded plates and napkins into the living room, Eli balancing two bottles of beer and a single glass for Frankie.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” she asked, curling one leg beneath her as she sat on the sofa, balancing her plate on her lap.

“Positive.” Eli set his plate on the coffee table while he removed bottle caps, pouring a glass for Frankie and setting it on the lamp table next to her at the end of the sofa. “Real men drink beer straight from the bottle.”

Frankie rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll let that pass,” she said magnanimously. “I’m feeling kindly toward you since you knocked on my door bearing edible gifts.” She lifted her slice of pizza. “Mmm.”