Shifters of Silver Peak: Mate For A Month by Georgette St. Clair

luck wherever you end up.”
    Eileen left a twenty on the bar and headed out to the parking lot. She was almost at her car when a dark figure burst out from behind a minivan with darkened windows. She jumped back with a shriek, then stared in dismay.
    Beacham Haversham. Wearing khakis with a knife-pleat, loafers and a lime-green cable-knit sweater.
    “What are you doing here?” she said. “You nearly gave me a damned heart attack.”
    He looked her up and down. “Why do you smell like smoke?” he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
    She stared at him. “Someone annoyed me and I set them on fire.”
    He just looked at her. “Is that a joke? I don’t get it.”
    She was in no mood to deal with his condescending attitude right now. “Move, and let me get in my car, or you will get it. Trust me.”
    “I don’t think so.” He leaned against her car door and gestured at the minivan. “We’re leaving now. I am prepared to forgive you for this embarrassing act of indiscretion – which, by the way, has been covered by all the newspapers.”
    Ugh. Her fake marriage was in all the papers – and it was already over.
    “No need for forgiveness. You should hold a grudge. Forever,” she said, and started to walk around the car to get to the passenger door. He moved fast, blocking her.
    His eyes gleamed with anger. “I already announced our wedding. If we don’t marry, everyone will think that Beacham Haversham has been rejected. Nobody rejects Beacham Haversham.”
    “Oh my God, I forgot how much it annoys Eileen Pennyroyal when Beacham Haversham refers to himself in the third person.”
    “What? You’re not even making sense right now. Clearly this thin mountain air is making you light-headed. I’m taking you with me, and we will be married first thing tomorrow on my estate, and then you will remain on my estate with me until you come to your senses.”
    “My father won’t let you kidnap me,” she said uneasily, taking a step back.
    He shook his head chidingly. “Your father sent me here. This is for your own good, Eileen.”
    She turned and tried to run.
    His arm shot out and he grabbed her arm, painfully tight.
    “Let go of me! Let go of me!” she screamed.
    He began dragging her towards his van in a determined grip. He grabbed the van door and flung it open. Terror flared up inside her.
    Nobody would come looking for her. She’d already told Marcus she was leaving him, and the pack. They would just think she’d returned home to marry this psycho.
    “I said let go!” she screamed at the top of her longs.
    “Nobody’s coming to help you, Eileen,” he said in an annoyed tone. It was true, she realized, and despair washed over her.

Chapter Fifteen
     
    As Beacham’s grip tightened even harder on her arm, Marcus’ voice sounded in her head.
    “Why didn’t you just shift?”
    She hesitated for just a second. Turn into an animal? Here in public? It went against everything she’d been taught. It went against her upbringing. After she shifted, she’d be naked.
    Then Beacham started pushing her into the back seat, and she let out a growl of rage and let her wolf burst forth.
    Fur shot through her skin and her snout lengthened. Her clothing fell away, and she felt her bones melting and reforming. She lunged at Beacham in a rage and sank her fangs into his arm until he let go of her. He shrieked and fell back, staring at his bloodied arm in shock.
    “You bit me!” he shouted, his voice shrill. “Like a dog! You bit me!”
    Then fur started rippling on his face and he let out a low, animal growl. His face melted into a wolf’s, black lips curled back, saliva drooling from his jaw.
    He was shaking with rage. He’d go wolf in a minute. He’d overpower her.
    From across the parking lot, she heard a howl of fury. Marcus, in wolf form, as big as a small horse. Beacham saw him loping towards them and let out a high-pitched cry of fear.
    He leaped into his van and screeched out of the parking lot, peeling