Taming the Wolf by Maureen Smith

“I want details.”
Samara chuckled, shaking her head in resignation. “First off, I should have told you yesterday that I went to see Marcus when he spoke at Georgetown on Monday night.”
“You were there?”
“Yes. And your law professor friend was right. Marcus was wonderful. He had everyone hanging onto his every word— including me. You know, after you and I talked on Monday, I got to thinking about what you’d said about him being an untapped resource and all that. So I went to the university to speak to him about giving FYI a donation. But after the way I’d dissed him in New York, I knew I’d have to be somewhat, uh, creative in my approach.”
Melissa grinned slowly. “How creative?”
“Creative enough to hold his attention. I flirted with him, we chatted a little. One thing led to another and…”
“And?”
“We wound up in an empty classroom making out.” “Stop playing! You didn’t!”
“I did.” Samara grinned unabashedly. “Enjoyed every second of it, too.”
Melissa laughed. “I’ll bet. That man looks like he would be quite enjoyable. Lord, he is scrumptious! Was he mad when he found out you wanted money from him?”
Samara frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. “Maybe a little, but it didn’t last very long. He was pretty mature and forgiving about the whole thing.”
“Obviously. He wrote you a nice fat check. That must have been one helluva kiss you gave him—and vice versa,” she added, with a pointed look at the hickey on Samara’s throat. Her eyes twinkled with mischief as Samara bent to retrieve her scarf from the floor. “Are you going to see him again?”
“I hope so,” Samara answered without hesitation. At Melissa’s knowing look, she smiled shyly. “We had a really great time last night. We talked for hours, and we had so much in common it was scary. And you know what else? It was the first time I’d ever been with a man who didn’t ask me what it was like to be Asha Dubois’s daughter, a man who wasn’t remotely interested in hearing about my mother’s sexual exploits. It was such a refreshing change, Melissa. I felt like we really connected. It was the best non-date I’ve ever had.”
“Sounds like it was,” Melissa said with a soft, intuitive smile. “Sounds to me like the Marcus Wolf Fan Club just gained a devoted new member.”
Samara laughed, rising from the chair and walking to the door. “The man rescued us from bankruptcy. I’m not only a member of his fan club—I’m the new president!”

1
    That afternoon, Marcus had just hung up the phone with a prospective client when the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Mr. Wolf, you have a call,” the receptionist informed him. “It’s your father.”
    Smiling, Marcus picked up the phone. “How are you doing, Dad?”
“Same as I was two days ago,” came Sterling Wolf’s gruff reply. “Restless from rattling around in this big ol’ house you and your brother insist on keeping me trapped in.”
“You’re not trapped,” Marcus said patiently. He was used to his father’s complaints. “You have a more active social life than most men your age. You belong to the senior basketball league; you have your weekly poker group—”
“What you’ve just described sounds awfully similar to the activities of an inmate at one of those retirement homes.”
Marcus laughed. “Hey, don’t forget your upcoming fishing trip with the fellas.”
“Well…that’s different,” his father conceded, an unmistakable note of pleasure creeping into his voice. After years of resenting the forced move to Stone Mountain, Sterling Wolf had been pleased to find a group of retired police officers with whom he could commiserate over the current state of law enforcement.
“Taking your meds okay?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah, so don’t you start with me.”
Marcus grinned at his father’s irascible tone. “Do what the doctor tells you and I won’t have to.”
After thirty years on the force, the toll of sleepless nights,