Chapter 4
FOUR
P ine needles crunched under Artek Riggs’s boots as he completed his morning perimeter check around his Catskills cabin. Dawn mist curled through the trees like ghostly fingers, carrying the sharp scent of approaching autumn. His bear stirred contentedly, relishing the crisp mountain air and the promise of solitude.
That promise shattered with the distinctive purr of his sister’s Mercedes winding up his private road.
Artek’s enhanced hearing picked up two heartbeats in the car. One steady, one... suspiciously fluttering. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Here we go.
“Mother,” he called out before the car door even opened. “Your heart palpitations seem conveniently timed with your arrival.”
“Oh!” Vida Riggs emerged from the passenger side, one hand pressed dramatically to her chest. She clutched an ornate walking cane—definitely new, probably purchased specifically for this performance. “My darling boy, how can you be so callous when your poor mother might be at death’s door?”
Carys, his sister, caught his eye over their mother’s shoulder and mouthed
“Sorry!” before beating a hasty retreat in her Mercedes.
“Traitor,” Artek muttered, watching his sister’s escape.
“Did you say something, dear?” Vida wobbled toward him. “Everything’s growing a bit dim... perhaps if I had a grandcub or two to brighten my final days...”
“You had a full physical last month.” Artek supported her elbow, guiding her inside despite knowing she could probably pirouette up the stairs if it served her matchmaking agenda. “The healer said you’re healthier than half the sleuth.”
“But who knows how long that will last?” Vida sank onto his leather couch with all the grace of a dying swan. The morning sunlight streaming through his floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted her artfully arranged silver hair. “I lie awake at night, wondering if I’ll ever see my precious son settled with his mate, blessed with cubs of his own?—”
“Coffee?” Artek escaped to the kitchen, the scent of fresh Italian roast providing a momentary sanctuary.
“Little ones padding around this lovely cabin.” Her voice followed him. “The pitter-patter of tiny paws?—”
“You’re not dying.”
“—my last breath spent knowing you’re alone?—”
“You’re not even sick.”
“Am I not?” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “The room spins... though I did manage to pick out a lovely new suit for you this morning before my collapse...”
Artek nearly dropped the coffee mugs. “You what?”
“I feel so dizzy,” she continued dramatically.
His phone buzzed, saving him from the continued ambush. The caller ID displayed Gerri Wilder’s name. His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me.”
“Of course, darling.” Vida’s theatrical wheezing transformed into very pointed eavesdropping.
“Ms. Wilder.” Artek moved toward his office, the scent of pine and coffee following him.
“Artek, my dear!” Gerri’s warm voice sparkled with barely contained mischief. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?”
Behind him, Vida fake-coughed. Loudly. Twice. With a wheeze for good measure.
“Nothing urgent.” He closed his office door on his mother’s impromptu consumption scene. “What can I do for you?”
“Actually, it’s what I can do for you—or rather, for Northern Winds Security.” Papers rustled in the background. “I’m hosting a charitable gala next week, and given your company’s outstanding reputation in high-end security services, not to mention your own generous philanthropic history...”
“Did my mother put you up to this?”
“Put me up to what?” Gerri’s innocent tone wouldn’t fool a human child, let alone a bear shifter. “I’m simply inviting one of our most consistent donors to a star-studded event. Though now that you mention Vida, she did mention you’ve been working too hard lately?—”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course, you are, dear. But networking is vital for any business, wouldn’t you say? And you never know who you might meet...”
“Ms. Wilder?—”
“Call me Gerri, please. And before you say no, consider that several potential clients have specifically asked about Northern Winds Security’s services. Your presence would be invaluable.”
Through the door, his mother’s theatrical wheezing reached new operatic heights.
“I’ll think about it,” he said finally.
“Wonderful! I’ll have my assistant send over the details. And, Artek?” Gerri’s voice softened. “The right person appears at the right time. Trust me on this.”
The moment he ended the call, his mother materialized inches from his face, her “illness” forgotten in her excitement. “Well? What did she say? Something about a gala? Oh, you simply must attend, darling. I hear the guest list is exceptional this year?—”
“It’s a business networking event.” Artek strode past her, gathering his briefcase. The leather still carried the rich scent of his last shift, reminding him he needed to replace it soon. “Nothing more.”
“But surely you’ll talk to people? Mingle? Perhaps notice if any lovely young ladies catch your eye?—”
“Mother.” He gripped her shoulders gently. “I love you. But I’m not letting you or anyone else orchestrate my love life. When I find my mate, it will be on my terms.”
“But how will you find her if you never leave this mountain?” Vida’s dramatic flair faded, revealing genuine concern. “I worry about you, my son. All work and no play?—”
“I have meetings.” He kissed her forehead. “Carys can pick you up, or I’ll have someone drive you home.”
“Fine, abandon your dying mother.” Vida flopped back onto the couch. “I only hope I last until the gala...” She paused. “Speaking of which, about that suit?—”
His phone rang again. Saved by the bell. “Trey?”
“Boss.” His second-in-command’s voice carried none of its usual playful tone. “We’ve got movement from the Lopez family.”
Artek’s entire demeanor shifted. “What kind?”
“German’s been asking questions about land deeds again. Specifically, the old boundaries near Crystal Lake.”
“Send me everything.” Artek switched to full alpha mode. “I’ll be at the office in thirty.”
“Already compiling the reports.” Papers shuffled in the background. “Also, a little bird told me about a certain gala...”
“Not now, Trey.”
“Hey, I’m just saying—watching you try to dance might be worth the ticket price alone.”