Read Online Cry of the Wolf by Dianna Hardy - Free Book Online

resembled a punch in the gut. The smell of the lie that surrounded the word ‘family’ tainted Lawrence’s office, and the anger in him peaked. The Gunvald name was worth millions – hundreds of millions. Like hell was Maddox interested in family. He knew exactly what this tosser was interested in.
    The actor rose from his seat, and buttoned up his jacket. “As you know, tonight is my last performance before I head back to LA. I shall relay to my lawyer your answer to my proposal. He shall be in touch about the next move.” He offered him his hand in farewell.
    Throwing etiquette to the wind, Lawrence growled at it and allowed his wolf to shine through his light blue eyes for a fraction of a second.
    Russell paled, looked confused, then composed himself quickly like his years of acting had no doubt taught him. “Goodbye, cousin.” He didn’t bother to shut the door behind him.
    Lawrence gripped the edge of his desk so tightly, it splintered and broke away in his hands, two wedges of wood digging firmly into his palms.
    Damn.
    This was everything. This theatre was everything he had left.
    The soft summer breeze danced through the window, Lydia’s scent caressed the skin of his cheek and his control snapped.
    His wolf still near the surface, he glanced outside and zeroed in on the source of her aroma. It came from some distance away to the north-east, and he closed his eyes and focused on what else the breeze was telling him … past the cobbled High Street, past the hilly mounds that lay beyond: pine trees – firs – petrol, metal, oil, grease, bacon grease…
    The biker’s café near Newlands Corner.
    He pressed the wood further into his palms in an effort to keep from shifting. His skin broke, blood seeped, but he couldn’t contain the territorial, low bark that left his throat. He vaguely hoped no one was standing outside his office right this second.
    He flung the wood aside with ferocity, a couple of drops of blood flying across the room with it; grabbed his leather jacket and helmet, and stormed out of the theatre to his motorbike, not bothering to mind anyone in the way because no one got in the way.
    The thrum of his beautiful carriage calmed him to a degree, but this time, the calmness enabled him to feel the bite of the ice that had festered inside him – in his heart.
    Like fuck was he gonna let some prick take his life and blood from him.
    His bike accelerated, and, as one, they blazed a trail towards Lydia.
    No one was taking his life and blood.
     

Chapter Five
     
    The red, or the pink?
    Sarah couldn’t decide.
    She held both dresses up to the mirror for the zillionth time and sighed in frustration. This shouldn’t be a problem. Children were starving in Africa and this really shouldn’t be a problem.
    She threw the red dress onto the armchair beside her. It looked too slutty, and she wasn’t really the harlot type…
    Then again, the pink looked a bit too ‘friends only’. She actually wanted to have sex tonight – Jesus Christ, how long had it been? Five years?
    Five fucking years, Miss Should-Have-Been-A-Nun.
    She eyed the red dress again. Maybe harlot wasn’t a bad way to go…
    The landline rang shrilly from the hallway, and she raced out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Amil was the only person who ever called her on the landline.
    Please don’t cancel, please don’t cancel, please don’t cancel!
    She glanced at the clock on the wall as she sprinted to the handset on the cherry wood sideboard.
    Just after 2 p.m.
    Amil wasn’t picking her up until five.
    Please don’t cancel!
    She yanked up the phone. “Amil,” she all but shouted into the receiver.
    “A-who? Sarah, is that you?”
    As her brain scurried around trying to figure out who was calling her, all she could hear was her heart hammering in her ears.
    “Sarah? Do I have the right number?”
    Oh, my god… “Holly?”
    A squeal. “Sarah! Oh, my god, it is you! I can’t believe it’s been so long – I am so sorry