Read Beauty and the Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) for Free Online Page B

Don’t show weakness. “It’s been a part of my collection for more years than I care to admit, and this is the first time it has seen the light of day. Or the glare of the moon, as it were.” His vision swam in and out, in and out. Gripping the corner of the glass case for support, he rubbed his eyes. And stomach pains from hell rocked him. “Anyway, cheers.”
    Weaving through the crowd, Jack cursed and stumbled. Fought his way back to Isabelle’s side.
    Another few minutes and he’d black out in front of everyone.
    “Isabelle,” he said, leaning against the nearest marble pillar. “I’m sorry to have to cut the night short, but something has come up. What hotel are you staying at tonight?”
    “Are you okay? You look pale.”
    “I’m fine.” Focus on breathing. Air in, pause, air out. “What’s the name of your hotel?”
    “The Grand Hyatt, but you look like you’re going to—”
    “Perfect,” he rasped out, hollowing out in his middle. “I’ll have the painting delivered to your hotel room in an hour. I’d like to make this up to you…if you’ll let me, but it’ll have to be at a later time.”
    And then, before he collapsed in the middle of the de Young, he staggered out the front doors and into the night.

Chapter Five
    I sabelle drove her Camry back to the Grand Hyatt and hit every red light on the way. Her father used to say if she found herself stuck by a continuous string of red lights, it meant she subconsciously wanted to be going a different direction anyway. He said it was fate’s way of giving chances to stop and rethink the route.
    She wasn’t sure she bought into it, but the constant stopping gave her a ton of time to think.
    She still couldn’t make sense of what happened between her and Jack.
    They had chemistry; she’d felt it on her end, anyway.
    He’d asked her to come to the museum, and then he up and left? What the hell was that about? She had to have missed something. His hands had started to tremble, she’d noticed that much. Was he nervous? Borderline drunk?
    Regret washed over her in a bitter wave. Why’d it bother her so much that he took off and deserted her at his own artwork display, anyway? It wasn’t like she wanted to spend the rest of the evening with him…
    Trying not to think about Jack or what she wanted to do to him— with him , she corrected—she swapped her evening gown for yoga pants and washed her face. As she slipped into bed, someone banged on her bedroom door.
    “Yes?” Shuffling over, she peeked through the peephole. “Who is it?”
    A petite young woman with frizzy brown hair stood in the hall, holding up an awkward-shaped box.
    “Hotel management,” she said. “We have orders to drop something off to your room at precisely this hour. It’s from Mr. Jack MacGrath?”
    Jerking open the door, Isabelle met the manager with a smile. “Thank you,” she said, and took the painting with more eagerness than was probably necessary. With another nod of thanks, she shut the door and swept inside to study her painting.
    It was perfect, and finally coming home with her, and…there was a note pinned to the back.
    She yanked it off and read aloud, “Isabelle, I’m sorry I had to run out on you tonight. That’s not how I envisioned our first date ending.”
    Oh, go on, Mr. MacGrath …how’d you really want to finish it?
    “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I have another piece of Bella Nolan art, Werewolf in Manhattan. ”
    Shut the front door.
    “If you agree to have coffee with me tomorrow morning, the painting is yours. Please accept my sincere apology and meet me in front of your hotel at ten a.m. Jack.”
    Seriously? These two paintings were proving to be the easiest, cheapest finds ever. She would’ve paid millions to bring two of them home. But it seemed all she had to do was go on date number two with Jack.
    Not such a bad deal considering he was the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on. Staring at him for another day didn’t