“Go find rooms,” she told them all. “Anything that doesn’t already have someone’s bags in it. I don’t want to hear any damn arguing over it either.”

The kids took off, running up the stairs, someone yelling, “But did you look at the chart?” from somewhere in the house. Dee didn’t know who and she didn’t care.

“You want to play tennis with me?” Blayne asked.

Good Lord, the woman had so much energy. Dee had seen her taking a run around the property, disappearing for several hours. She’d probably run ten, maybe even twenty miles, and now, standing in Van Holtz’s marble hallway, sweat pouring from every pore onto the man’s floor, she didn’t want to shower and pass out like the cats. She wanted to play tennis. Freak.

“Nope,” Dee told her, turning away. “Don’t want to play tennis.” Blayne cut in front of her. “How about a swim? Or basketball? There’s a basketball court, too.” Dee caught hold of Blayne’s nose between the knuckles of two of her fingers. “What is it I just said?”

“You said no. You said no! Ow! Let me go, you Amazon!”

Twisting the nose she held a little more, Dee pushed Blayne down the hallway until they reached the kitchen. Using Blayne’s body, Dee shoved open the large swinging door and stalked in.

The wild dogs sitting around the kitchen table, eating more chocolate than was probably good for them, looked up at her, eyes wide.

“What did I tell you people when you arrived? What did I say to you? My exact words?”

“Keep the wolfdog away from me,” they all repeated back to her. All except Jessie Ann, who was too busy giggling around a mouthful of dark chocolate brownies. At least Dee guessed the brownies were dark chocolate. Bobby Ray’s woman had a real thing for dark chocolate. It couldn’t be normal.

“And yet what is she doing?”

“Annoying you?” one of the wild dogs asked.

“Yes. Annoying me.” She shoved Teacup away from her. “Don’t annoy me!”

“But I just wanted to show you how much we love and care and—” Ric appeared beside Blayne and shoved a piece of chocolate cake into her mouth. “Isn’t that delicious, Blayne? Enjoy.” He grabbed Dee’s wrist and dragged her toward the back of the house, stopping long enough to glare at a busy Stein, who’d stopped butchering something to wipe his forehead.

“What?”

“Get to work.”

“I was just—”

“Don’t argue!” Ric pulled her out of the kitchen, through the mud room, and out the back door.

“Why do you keep torturing that poor boy?”

Ric stopped and faced her. “You ask me that after you had Blayne’s nose in a Dee-lock?”

“She’s annoying. Stein is working his ass off.”

“And he’ll continue to do so. There’s no easy way back into the Van Holtz Pack. And if I’m going to make a good case to get him back in, he’ll need to prove to me that he deserves it.” Dee smirked. “Look at you, Van Holtz. Trying to sweet talk me.” MacRyrie walked out of the house, carrying a baseball bat.

“Is that for Novikov?” Ric asked, sounding way too hopeful.

“No. Wanted to see if anyone was up for a little softball game.” Dee folded her arms over her chest. “You? Playing softball? This isn’t your idea, is it, MacRyrie?” Because MacRyrie was a lousy liar, he looked past Dee and asked, “Why would you ask me that?”

Dee glanced over at the kitchen window and saw Blayne and the wild dogs duck for cover.

Snarling, Dee snapped, “Teacup!”

“Oh, come on, Dee,” Ric argued teasingly. “How bad could a little game of softball between friends be?”

CHAPTER 23

“Idon’t see what the problem is!” Blayne yelled at Mitch Shaw while they stood on the pitcher’s mound. “You’re playing for the Smiths!”

“I’m mated to a Smith, in case you hadn’t noticed. You, however, are not mated to anyone in the Kuznetsov Pack. You are, point of fact, Pack-less.”

“Oh, Lord,” Ric heard Dee-Ann sigh next to him. “And here we go.” And, sure enough, Ric’s beloved but “sensitive Sally” Blayne burst into tears, the entire Kuznetsov Pack rushing the field to give her a big hug while yelling at Mitch.

“Oh, come on!” Mitch yelled, arms thrown out dramatically. “You’re not buying this, are you?”

“Does he mean Blayne’s performance,” Ric quietly asked Dee, “or his own?”

“Probably both.”

Jess stormed onto the field after shoving her daughter into a laughing Smitty’s arms, and slammed her finger into Mitch’s chest.

“I’ll have you know, Mitchell Shaw, that Blayne and Ric are part of the Kuznetsov Pack. As is Gwenie and Lachlan MacRyrie of the Clan MacRyrie. So if they want to play on our team, they can!”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mitch felt the need to argue, as always refusing to accept that he’d never win this fight. Not against a female predator. Not without backup—and Mitch’s brother Brendon Shaw didn’t appear ready to be anyone’s backup. “At least Blayne is half wolf. But Gwenie? Hello?

Feline. MacRyrie? Bear. And Van Holtz has his own Pack!”

“Well,” Jess said, stepping into Shaw, “now he has two! And you, ungrateful kitty, will apologize to Blayne Thorpe right this second!”