Paranormal Dating Agency: Taming Their Talons (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

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  The Paranormal Dating Agency

  Taming their Talons

  Marianne Morea

  A Kindle World Exclusive.

  “Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn your house, you can never tell.”

  Joan Crawford

  Chapter One

  Valerie Ross unlocked the front door to her best friend’s brownstone and stepped through to the tiled entrance. “Here goes nothing.” She dragged in a quick breath and looked around the deserted place.

  “Thanks a bunch, Camille,” she murmured, disturbing a month of dust as she shrugged out of her jacket. “You leave town with a hot hunka hunka burning shifter love and leave me to pack up your life. Me, who you’ve known forever. But him? Five whole minutes.”

  With a frown, she walked the length of the foyer, her nose wrinkling in the musty air. Cami’s note was exactly where she found it the first time. The day her best friend fell off the face of the planet. It was taped to the hall mirror with a layer of dust framing the paper as it hung at the center of the glass.

  Sorry, Val. I know leaving without a word sucks and you deserve better, but there was no time. I left a message on your cell, but as usual you didn’t return my call right away. I wish I had time to explain, but even if I did you’d never believe me. You’ll just have to trust I’m okay, and leaving with Ryker isn’t as crazy as you think. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but if you really need to know more call Gerri Wilder at the Paranormal Dating Agency. She can fill you in on the how and why of everything. All I ask is you keep an open mind. In the meantime, there’s a key to a storage unit and some cash in an envelope in the top drawer of the hall table. Hire a couple of guys to help move my stuff. Trust me, Val. Okay?

  I love you, dude.

  Camille

  Valerie skimmed the note again and snorted to herself. “Call Gerri Wilder. Yeah, right. Maybe if the woman answered her phone or returned a message once in a while. She’s worse than me.”

  Footsteps on the outside flagstones had her whirling on her heel. Val blinked at the elegant woman standing in the open doorway, designer purse in one perfectly manicured hand and a newspaper in the other.

  “May I help you?” Valerie asked.

  “You really shouldn’t leave your door wide open like that. This is Manhattan, after all. Anyone could come in off the street.” The woman stepped through the doorway and walked straight toward where Val stood at the hall table.

  “Excuse me, but who the hell are you?” Valerie demanded, reaching for the sharp letter opener on the credenza.

  The woman had to be sixty if she was a day. Petite and classically beautiful, with high cheek bones framed by a chic silver bob. She didn’t look like a threat, but you never know.

  Her look was vintage, complete with flawless complexion and red lips, the elegant package wrapped in classic black Chanel paired with slim-heeled stilettos.

  “I think you can figure out who I am easily.” The woman dropped the folded newspaper on the hall table. Circled in red was an ad for the Paranormal Dating Agency. “I’m Gerri Wilder. I believe you’ve been looking for me.”

  Camille’s description of the stylish matchmaker didn’t do her justice, even if she was the one behind her best friend’s erratic and sudden hasta la vista, baby departure.

  “Looking for you? That’s an understatement. Try urgent messages left every day for the past month.” Valerie didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm. “Nice of you to finally get in touch.”

  Gerri pulled her black cats-eye sunglasses from her nose and met Valerie’s unhappy gaze. “You’ll have to forgive my not getting back to you sooner. I was away on business. Besides, in situations like this I find a face to face approach to be more productive.”

  “Productive,” Val replied. “What did you expect to gain except a face full from me? And while we’re on the subject, where exactly do people go to conduct business that has no phone or internet connection? The Amazon? Or is it common practice for you to close up shop whenever the spirit moves you?”

  Valerie lifted a dismissive hand when Gerri opened her mouth to answer. “You know what? I don’t care what you do or don’t do or how you run your business. I only care when it concerns my friends. Where is Camille?”

  Ripping the note from the dusty mirror, Valerie held the paper out toward the matchmaker. “I haven’t heard from Camille in a month. Not a text or a snapchat or email. Not even a goddamned postcard!” She crinkled the note in her fist. “I don’t normally threaten people, let alone senior citizens, but if you don’t provide proof of life for Camille in the next minute, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Turning on her heel, Gerri walked to close the brownstone’s front door. She stood for a moment with her hand on the handle. “You’re not the first friend to wonder and worry about a client I’ve helped match. It’s expected.”

  She turned to face the angry young woman, offering her a small smile. “In my business, standard rules don’t always apply. The company isn’t called the Paranormal Dating Agency for nothing, and some have a hard time with what that sometimes entails. Although, you are the first to threaten me with bodily harm.”

  “I’m not Camille, Mrs. Wilder. I’m not awestruck by your style and wit. Contrary to what most people think about big girls, I am not a member of the Lonely Hearts Club,” Valerie countered. “I do fine for myself in the love department, and standard rules don’t apply when it comes to me either. That said, I will hurt you if something bad has happened to my best friend.”

  Gerri nodded. “Proof of life. Concise and to the point. Like you, it seems.”

  “Enough chit chat, Mrs. Wilder. Tick tock.” Val tapped her wrist. “Where is Camille? People don’t just disappear off the face of the Earth!”

  “Funny you should put it that way.” Gerri pushed past her into the living room. Stopping at the coffee table, she put her bag down before lifting a side flap and slipping a strange looking laptop from inside.

  Unusual striations scored the dull metal, along with an unfamiliar emblem embossed at the center. The device was unlike anything Val had seen before. Definitely not an Apple or a PC product or even a knockoff.

  “If memory serves from the last time I visited,” Gerri continued, placing the laptop on the dusty table, “Camille has a small selection of good wine on the top shelf.” She pointed toward the hall closet. “Grab a bottle. You’re going to need it.”

  Valerie took a step forward, panic rising. “Why? Is Camille hurt or in danger? If that caveman dragon shifter you hooked her up with harmed one hair on her head, I swear—”

  “For heaven’s sake, will you give it a rest?” Annoyance puckered the older woman’s mouth. “Lord, girl, if anyone needs to get laid it’s you!”

  Valerie frowned. “That’s ridiculous.” She folded her arms in front of her chest. “What has my sex life got to with anything?”

  “Ridiculous? Just look at you.” Gerri motioned to her protective stance. “Your arms are clutched in front of you like armor. Trust me, girl, you need to get
laid, and soon. In the meantime, I’m trying to have an adult conversation with you, yet all you want to do is fight. I understand you’re worried and uneasy, but anger and panic will earn you nothing but a skid mark into premature aging.”

  Valerie huffed. “Who’s fighting? I just want to know about my friend, and right now you are the only person who can give me answers.”

  “You’re a pretty girl, Valerie. Curvy and fierce. The kind of woman my shifters would love to sink their teeth and their cocks into, but you’re missing the one thing Camille had, and that’s an open mind. You said standard rules don’t apply to you. Well, how about trying this my way, huh? You’ll have all the proof of life you want, but you need to keep your opinions and prejudices to yourself, at least until I’m finished.”

  “Wow, I never heard such smut from someone wearing head-to-toe Chanel.” Valerie raised an eyebrow, but the matchmaker didn’t bite “Look, I may be opinionated, but I am not prejudiced. Shifters are cool. Not that I’ve ever seen one.”

  Gerri slid onto the couch and opened the lid to the unusual device. “I meant ill-conceived notions about me and what I do. You’re passionate, Valerie. You have untapped heat inside all that fire and fury, and I can see exactly what you need, even if you can’t.” She eyed the younger woman with a smirk. “And don’t hate on the sexy. Smut is a good thing. Helps keep you young.”

  She settled the laptop and glanced at Valerie across her shoulder again. “So how come you had Camille contact me, when it’s obvious you were the one curious about shifters? You’re not scared, are you?”

  “You’re quite the saleswoman,” Val replied, lifting her chin. “Like I said. I do fine for myself. Camille was the one who needed a push.”

  The matchmaker shrugged as if to disagree. “A woman with your kind of passion needs an outlet. A long, strong, rock hard kind of outlet.” She winked. “I could help with that.”

  “No doubt,” Valerie replied with a sarcastic snort. “Look, can we get on with whatever it is you want to show me on that weird tablet? I’ve got a townhouse to clear out.”

  Gerri nodded. “The townhouse, yes. About that. I’ve made arrangements. Unless you don’t want my help with that either?”

  “No, that kind of help I’m all for,” Valerie replied quickly. “The more muscle the merrier.”

  Gerri’s lips curled in a knowing smirk. “More muscle, huh. I’m glad you feel that way.” She glanced toward the front door, and a loud knock sounded in the foyer as if on cue.

  Valerie spared a questioning look for Gerri before getting up to answer the door, a nervous tingle in her stomach as she reached for the knob.

  Get a grip, Ross. It’s just a moving crew.

  Then why did that oversexed senior citizen look as if she was up to something?

  Val opened the door.

  Holy hot shit! That’s why.

  A huge, hulking tree of a man stood on the flagstone steps outside the front door. “Valerie Ross?” he asked.

  Slack jawed, her eyes climbed the hard length of him. He had dark, shoulder length hair tied in a loose ponytail and the kind of rugged good looks that temporarily rob you of coherent thought.

  “Uhm, yes,” she replied, nearly swallowing her tongue.

  Green eyes gave her an appreciative once over, and a delicious smile tugged at his beautiful mouth. “Mrs. Wilder sent us. We’re here to help stuff your box.”

  Us? She blinked.

  “You’ll have to excuse my friend,” a second hulk of a man said, stepping onto the flagstone portico. “Pretty girls are his kryptonite. They make him forget his manners.”

  Holy wet panties!

  If the first guy made her brain hiccup with his rough, throw-you-over-my-shoulder-and-ravage-you look, this one left her speechless. While the first guy was dark with a devilish air, this guy was light, with long sandy-colored hair and a calm manner.

  Valerie glanced between the two. Besides their size, the only thing similar was their incredible eyes. Green, like a Jolly Rancher candy.

  Big and unbelievably buff, these guys were definitely not the grungy, droopy pant moving men she expected. They were at least six feet six, which made them a foot taller that she, with shoulders to rival the Greek god Atlas.

  Her lips parted as she stared at the two, but no sound came out. Nervous laughter threatened, but she coughed to cover herself.

  “Don’t mind my boys, Valerie.” Gerri got up from the couch and walked toward the entrance to the foyer. “They may look like a walking demolition team, but they’re really pussycats once you get to know them.”

  Two sets of emerald eyes watched her, almost predatory, as if sizing her up for dessert. She didn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

  “Valerie!”

  Mrs. Wilder’s nudge pulled her back from her dumb stare. She cleared her throat. “Uhm, sorry,” Val croaked.

  “I’d like you to meet Arin and Xavier,” she continued. “I asked them to give a hand packing Camille’s belongings.”

  Val nodded, still not quite finding her voice. She cleared her throat again. “Boxes are upstairs.” Her hand drifted toward the steps off the living room. “In the master bedroom.”

  “Good.” Mrs. Wilder reached for her purse, hooking the strap onto her shoulder. “I guess I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  That snapped Valerie out of her funk. “Wait. You’re leaving?” She shook her head. “You can’t go. What about the proof of life you promised?”

  “Like you said. You have a townhouse to clear.” Mischief teased the corner of the matchmaker’s closed lips. “First things first, but I will leave you with something to think about while you get to know each other.” Her gaze flicked to the two men still at the door. “Maybe Camille wasn’t the only one who needed a push.”

  Valerie balked, but then she pressed her lips together. “This is not cool, Mrs. Wilder. You played me.”

  “I haven’t played with you, honey, but I’m sure if you ask nicely the boys will be happy to oblige.” The older woman grinned outright.

  “Gerri!” Valerie stomped her foot.

  The matchmaker gestured to her laptop on the coffee table. “I left you everything you need for your proof of life. Just press the key with the triangle symbol to the right of the keyboard and tell Lyra to connect. She’ll take it from there. The device is asleep, not shutdown, so my security clearance is still valid.”

  “So not cool,” Valerie muttered.

  “Just remember what I said about keeping an open mind. The wild side can be fun. Just ask Camille.” She nodded toward the device again. “I’ll be in my office if you need me, or if you find three is not such a crowd after all.”

  The older woman raised an eyebrow, her double meaning as clear as the afternoon sky. She dropped a business card with her address on the hall table and then left with a wink.

  Arin and Xavier stood on the flagstone waiting for Valerie to say something, but when she didn’t, Arin spoke up. “So, where do you want us?”

  Valerie closed her eyes for a moment, ignoring the slew of indecent options Mrs. Wilder’s words conjured in her head. She exhaled. “Don’t go there, girl.”

  Her words were barely a whisper, but two sets of green eyes found her.

  “We go where you go, beautiful,” the hot blonde giant replied with slow, sexy smile.

  “Xavier’s right.” The dark one nodded. “It’s all about you, love. We’re yours to command.”

  The man’s his voice was electric silk, sending that tingly feeling in her belly into overdrive. Her hands went to her stomach and she smoothed her camisole’s clingy fabric, hoping to God her nipples weren’t on display through the thin material.

  Damn.

  How the hell did she go from a hardnosed tell me what I need to know right now or else, to this bubblehead who can’t utter a cohesive sentence?

  One answer.

  Gerri Wilder.

  The woman was good. Very good.

  I do fine on my own. Ding. Din
g. Fraud alert! She had lied through her granny panties and the matchmaker called her on her shit.

  Okay, then. Time to get a grip.

  She looked at the two men still waiting in her doorway and with a quick exhale stepped aside for them to come in.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s…it’s nice to meet you,” Valerie squeaked, cringing at how silly she sounded. Getting a grip was harder than she thought. Especially with Mr. Universe times two standing three feet away.

  “Arin?” She smiled at the dark-haired man. “—and Xavier, right?” Val nodded toward the blonde.

  Xavier’s lips curved in a quiet smile. “At your service.” He nodded as well.

  The blond walked through the doorway first, his arm brushing hers as he passed. Instant electricity crackled along Valerie’s skin and her breath hitched.

  Neither guy turned or said a word, so maybe they didn’t notice. She hoped.

  So this was the Gerri Wilder idea of help. Sending two gorgeous shifters to rattle her willpower. She took in their full length as the huge hotties walked into the living room. Yup, definitely shifters.

  The way they moved was an exercise in erotic. Soft denim molded to muscular thighs, the easy fabric hanging low on each sculpted torso, enough to make a woman’s mouth water.

  Valerie inhaled and closed the front door before following them inside. For the first time in her life she felt out of control and the alien emotion unnerved her.

  “Anywhere in particular you’d like us to get started?” Arin flashed a sinful smile, and then bent to pick up a roll of bubble wrap and a tape gun.

  He was close enough to feel his heat and her stomach flip-flopped. His clean masculine scent made her want to sigh out loud.

  “You said the boxes were upstairs, right?” Xavier asked. “Maybe we should start there.”

  Arin tossed him the tape gun and Xavier twisted to catch it, his tee stretching across his muscled chest as he reached for the throw.

  God damn! They were so fucking hot. The tingle in her stomach morphed into full battering ram butterflies aimed straight at her crotch.