3. Angela

CHAPTER 3

Angela

T he shop is finally empty and I suck in a deep breath. It's been a long day made longer by the sudden special order that I couldn't turn down. That's a lot of money and I need a new oven and a new mixer. I was saving towards it and this would make it so much easier and quicker. It's a godsend and there's no way I could say no.

No matter how weird it was.

I sit it down on the counter and smile in satisfaction. Three layers of decadent dark and milk chocolate and dark chocolate frosting with curled white chocolate roses. It's a towering treat that is one of my best desserts by far and I get a ton of orders for it. And five stars on every foodie app around.

I grab one of my signature peach boxes with the delicate flour de lis design on it in matching peach sparkles. I love my Tricks and Treats store design and it makes me smile every time I look at it, pride filling me.

I'm lifting it to put it in the box when there's a loud banging at the door. Squawking, I juggle the damn cake and sigh…loudly, when I finally manage to get it under control and into the box, safe and sound.

I shut the box and glare at the door, stalking over, dusting my hands off and growling under my breath. I rip the door open so fast that I swear I hear the hinges squeal in protest.

"What the hell? I'm closed! Can't you read?"

I hiss in a breath and my eyes go so wide I'm surprised they don't pull a cartoon effect and roll right out of my head. My eyes go up and up and up, staring at the solid wall of male in front of me, his big, brawny muscles bulging and rippling under a fascinating skin that's so gray and rough it looks like concrete. There's a mottled texture to his skin and my eyes follow it down…down, down to a leather loin cloth that moves as soon as my eyes run down his big body.

He grunts and shifts and my eyes jerk away quickly, a flush rising like red roses in my cheeks. He growls and when he opens his sensuous lips there's a quick flash of fang that has my mouth watering and my clit pulsing inside me.

My eyes widen, I want him. A total stranger and one that's so different from me. He's huge and terrifying and yet I can't stop staring at him.

"Why are you staring at me, mate?"

I jerk and my mouth falls open. "What do you mean, mate?"

"You're my mate, little one."

"Absolutely not. I'm not anybody's mate."

"I'm sorry to break this to you like this but you are my mate. Fate has decreed it."

I chuckle. "Luckily, I don't have to listen to fate. I'm my own woman, Mr. Zephyr."

"Call me Granite. Although soon enough you will be mine. You will be Mrs. Zephyr."

"You have a one-track mind, Mr. Zephyr."

"Luckily, all my tracks lead right to you, little mate."

I growl under my breath and stomp my foot. "You're not listening to me. I'm not your mate."

"You are. But if you think you can fight fate, give it a try. But I guarantee you will be quite ill by the time you give in. Fighting your fate takes a great deal of control and strength."

I shrug my shoulders. "You trying to say I don't have those two things."

"Of course not. I believe that you do. But I also have seen many people fight their feelings for their chosen ones. It's not pretty."

"Humph!" I snort. "I'm good."

But my belly feels like a million butterflies are swirling through it. He's soooo big. And more tempting than my cake.

I whip around and tug the cake in front of me, holding it like a shield. "Here's your cake." I shove it at him and he grunts as it hits him in the belly.

"I don't want just that cake, mate. I want more. Much more."

"That's all I have for you."

"You may think that. Hell, you may mean that. But it isn't true."

"You need to get out of here. I've got somewhere to be."

"Where might that be?" His deep voice is clipped, his huge, gray body darkening and moving closer to me. My eyes follow his wings moving restlessly on his muscular back.

God, he's amazing to see. My fingers desperately itch to reach out and slide along his wings and see if there's as smooth and warm as they look.

"Eyes up here, Angela." Out of the corner of my eye I see the loin cloth stirring again and my mouth waters. I almost reach up to see if I need to wipe the drool off my chin.

But instead I lift my eyes and find myself getting lost in the bright crystal blue of his gaze. Like a mountain lake in bright sunlight they practically glow with his inner fire and with something darker, deeper, dangerously hungry. "How do you know my name?"

"I looked you up online. Where are you going, mate?" He asks me, his voice clipped. "You're not going on a date, are you, little one? That I won't allow."

I huff and draw myself up to my full five foot and a half an inch height. Us height-challenged girls have to make sure that we're being heard and seen.

I plant my hand on my hip and watch as his glowing eyes track the movement. "You don't have the right to ask me any of that. You're not the boss of me."

He grins, his full lips moving, his pointed fangs glinting. He moves closer until he's leaning over me, his huge fist landing on the counter by me until he hems me in and leans over me.

My breath hitches when I feel the heat of his body surrounding me. Flames erupt along my skin and it feels like fire ants are crawling all over my body.

"Oh, little one. You are sadly mistaken if you think that I can't make you stay." He lifts his hand, one finger pointing at the ceiling. "One little touch of a finger and I'll have you begging for me to touch every damn perfect inch of you, sweetheart."

I gasp at his audacity and sheer nerve. Unfortunately, he's probably right. I've never felt this much hunger in my life. I need him.

And this huge beast of a man knows it.