Chapter 5 Found him!

"What's the problem miss?" He asked her once again. When he asked the question the first time, she hasn't answered him.

Lancelot thought it best to assume she did not hear him the first time. How could she? When all along she had been staring at his face. Her eyes subconsciously dancing from his lips, to his jaw, then his eyes again.

It would have amazed him how fascinated she was with his physical being if he wasn't so used to it already. She wasn't the first and she certainly couldn't be the last.

As he watched her blink rapidly before stepping away from him, Lancelot tucked both his hands into the pocket of his blue trousers.

He just wished she would tell him how much she needed to get her car fixed so he could move on. He on the other hand, would have to toll his car away until he could get it fixed.

His eyes travelled to the bonnet. With the damage the collision had done, it would take at least a day or two to get it completely fixed. He could only wonder what else had gone wrong inside the car.

When Peter had collided with the car in front of them, Lancelot's cup of coffee dropped from his hands. The contents spilled all over the floor, bits of it on his shoes. Irritated, he leaned down to wipe the coffee stains from them, only to look up and see this crazy woman holding Peter by the neck, literally.

Lancelot looked around and noticed cars pull over and spectators pull out their phones to take pictures and videos. His jaw tightened with irritation.

He had to do something before she embarrassed him any further.

"What is the problem?!" She cried out.

Lancelot almost scoffed in amusement as he tore his blue eyes away from her fierce voilet ones. Looking over her swollen eyelids, almost ruined mascara and bridal dress, Lancelot could pick out one very important thing; she was another crazy American woman.

Luckily, he had all the financial resources to get her the fuck out of his way.

"Your driver almost killed me! Just after wrecking the back of my car!" She yelled again, dramatically throwing her hands over her head.

Sighing, he looked around one last time. The cars beside them had reduced, but people continued to keep eyes on them. It was sickening, every second of it.

"Are you okay?" He managed to ask. More out of impatience than concern. Frankly, Lancelot couldn't care less. If hospital care, money for her car and a small change for a cab was all she needed, he was ready and able to give her just that.

"What?" She asked back, as if she did not believe the question he had just asked, or the manner he had asked it.

He frowned. Lancelot Dankworth was never one to repeat himself.

"You should hold on for a while. A cab would be here soon and I would take care of the bills as well as the bills needed to get your car fixed."

He stated. With his tone, he made it very clear to her that it wasn't a suggestion, it wasn't a plea, it was an offer, and an order as well. One she could either take and be happy, or leave and get the hell out of his sight.

His statement seemed to have insulted her. Now, she was looking up at him, her small arms folded under her breasts.

"My car is insured. I don't need your money." She stated. The previous beam of rage he had seen in her eyes.

Lancelot wanted to scoff, but he just shrugged his shoulder instead.

'Then you should stop causing a scene and move away from here.' He wanted to say. Instead, he stayed quiet. He would allow her the pleasure of stating exactly what she wanted without him having to ask her, again.

Even as he watched her, he couldn't understand why despite how repulsed he was by her overbearing presence, inside him, his wolf seemed to growl and gnarl with need. He ignored his wolf, if Ziko wanted to have fun with ladies, he could have more than enough of it later. Right now, he had a crazy woman to settle and a cosy hotel room to get to.

Suddenly, her eyes brightened. Her frown was gone, as well as the creases on her forehead. Now she was... smiling?

Lancelot had to step back a bit. She smiled at him like she had just won a lottery, or something bigger.

"But! There is something you can do for me." She said, he noticed how she sounded too excited and his left brow raised in suspiscion.

"So?"

"I want... Sorry, I need you to escort me to a wedding ceremony." She stated.

Just like that. Lancelot thought he had not heard her properly, so he looked over her again. It was a silent signal for her to repeat whatever she had just said.

She seemed to get it, cause she let out a nervous chuckle.

Lancelot felt himself heave a sigh of relief. Good, she was joking.

"I promise you, I'm not crazy..." She said aloud, after chuckling.

"You could have fooled me." He said to himself, now taking time to highlight the woman's features.

Voilet eyes and brown hair, she was short. Nothing more than five feet and six inches tall. The sky blue gown she wore currently accentuated her curves and her lush lips drew his eyes as she smiled nervously.

She seemed to notice the lack of interest and indifference in his eyes, because once his gaze returned to her face, she was pointing at her car.

"You owe me one Noble and chivalrous deed mister." She spoke out, pouting.

"You are not joking after all." He said aloud, mentally slapping himself. He had intended to say that in his head before rolling his eyes.

"I'm being very honest! If there's one thing I've ever been serious about, it's this. You don't have to do anything. All you have to do is escort me to the wedding and be by my side at all times."

"And why would I want to do that?"

Fuck! Another question he had intended to ask himself. How was this woman managing to make words slip out of his mouth?

Now, she took one step closer to him. Her eyes danced around his face, as she moved closer to him, Lancelot felt his heart pound against his chest. He heard Ziko's heavy breaths rise and fall verociously.

What was happening to him?

"You'll do it because you are a proper British man, and british men have a reputation for keeping to their word."

Lancelot was taking aback by her statement. Still, he made an excellent show at hiding it.

Lancelot Dankworth, Alpha prince and heir to the throne of the biggest, most prosperous and most feared werewolf pack was never one to show any emotions at all.

Still, she managed to see through it. Or maybe she thought he would want to know how she quickly figured it out.

"Your accent gave it away."

Lancelot fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course it did.

"It won't take much of your time, I promise you."

He shrugged.

"It had better not."

The lady broke out another smile again, stretching a hand towards him, for a handshake.

Lancelot wanted to roll his eyes and look away from her, but he had to be polite. After all...

His eyes traveled to her car again.

He did owe her.

He took her hand in his, and that was when he felt his heart stop for few seconds.

Fire. That was what he felt when her skin clashed with his. Heat rose in his stomach and threatened to burn his cheeks.

What was happening to him?

"Mate!" He heard Ziko call the first time. Lancelot was going to ignore it, he had to.

"I'm Roxanne Harvey." The lady said again, smiling as she shook his hand.

"Mine!" He heard Ziko growl again.

Lancelot's eyes fell to the spot she held his hand in hers. He looked over the crazy American woman again.

'You've got to be kidding me.' He thought to himself.

In defense, he pulled his hand away from Roxanne's grip immediately.

"Sir." He heard Peter's voice call out.

Both their heads turned to the speaker. There was a brown Tesla parked by their side. Tolling vans and road safety officials were scattered all around them.

How had he not taken note of all of it earlier? Did she manage to steal his attention so well that all he could see was her?

Lancelot looked back at Roxanne again.

"The ride is ours. I believe we have a wedding to attend."

Roxanne was beaming with smiles, smiles of gratitude and relief.

Peter stared up at him, visibly perplexed.

"Just get my things to the hotel. I'll call you when I need you."

"Yes...sir." The young man muttered.

Before he could do anything, Roxanne opened the car door and moved inside.

Lancelot stood behind her for some seconds; she was certainly a crazy American woman. Ziko must have had his head messed up.