Chapter 3 PLANE WOEDE

"I'm calling the cops," She announced.

"You don't need to," he warned.

"Then tell me where my handbag is so I can leave," she insisted.

"Even if you had your handbag, you can't leave," he told her.

"Is this some kind of hostage situation? Am I being held hostage?" she argued.

Candice was tired and all she wanted to do was go home, take a shower, get an aspirin for the throbbing ache in her head, and set off to work.

Maybe call Bernice before going to work, but she couldn't do all this without her handbag.

"I remember having it with me at the bar last night, how come it's nowhere around here?" she grumbled as she knelt down to peer under the bed.

Her handsome but strange male companion had finally had the courtesy to dawn a brown silky robe with matching brown pajamas. Though his robe was left open to flaunt his beautiful abs, he had stayed quiet leaning at the far end of the wall, watching her scramble around the room looking for her belongings.

At least, he had stopped taunting her.

"Why won't you just tell me where my bag is? Everything important to me is in that bag. My cell phone, my house keys, my wallet, the documents for the development project."

"And you believe I possess this bag and have refused to give you?" he asked dryly.

"Yes!" she nodded.

"Of what importance is this bag to me? That you think I would keep it away from you?" he queried.

Candice put a hand to her throbbing temple and murmured "I can't take this anymore," she rose up to her feet from her position beside the bed, she walked up to him.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Stop, just stop it!" she yelled at him.

He casually crossed his arms across his chest "Stop what?"

"Stop pretending that this is some sort of joke to you. I know what you're after Mr. Wayne, enough of the mind games. Those documents are worth a lot in value, and you can only get it approved if you go through our agency. Stealing them from me will not get you the bid proposal."

He frowned in confusion.

"And yes, I was going to play along and get you to seal the deal because my agency makes 10% off in commission," she said, then added "although I have changed my mind about you this morning, if a business partner is not honorable, there's no point doing business with him. I am planning on trying out another developer."

"So, you mean to tell me that you were at the bar for business last night?" he asked in a disbelieving tone.

"What else would I be doing in such a sorry excuse for a bar? You chose that bar for the meet up remember?" she responded. Bernice couldn't have made such a poor choice.

A smirk turned the corner of his lips "Now isn't this interesting, so from what you're saying I set up a date with you last night and invited you over to that bar?"

Candice raised her chin and nodded.

"Is this part of your trick? Where you try to act innocent and dignified to camouflage your whoring job?" he let out a bitter laugh "Perhaps, if you told yourself such fabled tales you could sleep well at night."

"Oh, for Christ's sake stop calling me a whore!" she yelled, "and stop talking funny."

"I talk funny?"

"Yes, you do. You switch from modern speech to some 18th-century medieval speech. Switching between centuries." She was growing really frustrated with this man.

"In all my years I have come to understand that I have to keep up with the ever-changing world," he said casually.

She looked at him oddly "There you go again talking like some ancient being. You can't be much older than 35 years."

"You think?" he asked amused.

She rolled her eyes "Can I borrow your cell phone? I need to call my friend Bernice,"

"I don't have one here," he told her.

"Why? Everyone has a cell phone" she insisted.

"Well, I do not have one here. Even if I did, it would not work on this plane" he simply said.

Who didn't own a cell phone in this time and age? He looked like he could afford one. Was he just messing with her? Or was he really just a psychopath?

"I'm leaving," she announced as she crossed the vast room to the door, she had long worn her clothes, so she just pulled on her heels and reached for the doorknob.

"You can't leave," his voice called behind her.

"You won't tell me what I can or can't do Mr. Wayne. Goodbye, and I hope we never meet again," She threw the words over her shoulder without looking back, then cracked the door open and stepped into a corridor.

Candice mouth fell open in awe at the sight that greeted her.

There was a long corridor made of glass walls with long white linen curtains knotted side by side leading down a flight of stairs leading into a major living area with vaulted ceilings. But those were not what left her reeling on her heels.

The sight outside the windows...was stunning.

It was a clear blue sky, having some gray clouds encircling the sun, the house seemed to be on a cliff of sorts because just below she could see the ocean, a crystal blue water that shimmered as the sun's rays hit the waves, beautiful flowers of every color adorned the surroundings with butterflies and birds flying around.

Where was she? Was she still in Nashville or she was staring at the coasts of Hawaii?

Then she started noticing her interior surroundings. This house was big and luxurious, something that might pop up in a billionaire magazine. The high walls were made of river rocks, from top to ceiling. The glass looked like clear crystals of the finest quality; it brought the outside environment into the house with its view. The floors looked to be made from granite and the linens looked soft and expensive.

Was this some sort of vacation home?

Bernice had said that Wayne Wyatt wanted to be kept under the radar about the bid, other than that, there was not much information about him.

Turning around she walked back into the room.

"Where are we? Tell me we are still in Nashville, Tennessee?" she asked him.

What else could explain the view outside? Nashville did not have any islands that she knew of with such coastal views. It was spring here, whereas it was still autumn in Nashville. The flowers should be wilting and falling, not blooming and shiny.

The sun looked kind of odd too.

"We are not in Nashville," he said dryly.

"Then where are we?"

He pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning and straightened to his full height "Let me properly introduce myself. I am Wayne Wyatt, son of Warren Wyath, King and Alpha of the royal house of Wyatt. Leader of the pack of the Grey wolves. The protector of the plane Woede and all its hinterlands. Welcome to your new home, my human mate."

Candice jaw drooped, her breath ceased, her eyes burgled and she felt a paralyzing fear creep up her spine.

What in God's name did she just hear?