She tilted her head, giving him a speculative look. “You don’t look like the kind of guy who would be staying in on a Saturday night, cooking.”
Jensen chuckled. “What does that guy look like?”
Elizabeth shrugged, a smile pulling at her lush lips. “I don’t know. Not you.”
He nodded, then leaned forward and said quietly, “Do I look like the kind of guy who stays in on a Saturday night and has sex on the kitchen table?”
He regretted the question as soon as Elizabeth broke eye contact and pink stained her high cheekbones. She fiddled with a piece of the bread, pulling off bits to create a small mound of crumbs.
He didn’t know why that question would embarrass her. The woman who walked in here tonight and raised her skirt didn’t seem like the type to be embarrassed by anything. That woman had been a go-for-what-you-want-and-don’t-take-no-for-an-answer kind of gal. The Elizabeth here with him now seemed almost shy. But he had seen shades of that uncertainty before, hadn’t he?
And maybe a smarter man would have been a little frightened by the two extremes, but Jensen always managed to remain woefully below his potential. He found her fascinating.
“I—I just want you to know that I’ve never acted this way before,” she announced suddenly. Her cheeks grew pinker.
“I never have, either,” he told her, hoping the admission would make her feel better. Instead her brows drew together in an adorable look of consternation.
“I... ” She looked around again, her eyes landing again on the back door. “I really think I should go. T
hank
you for dinner, and... everything.”
“Well, I think I know one thing about you,” he said, hoping his announcement would stop her. It did.
She paused at that, giving him a confused look.
“You are always in a rush.”
Before he thought better of it, he shifted his chair closer to hers and leaned over the table to catch her chin between his finger and thumb. Then he kissed her. A slow, unhurried kiss. So unlike anything they had shared so far.
She remained still for a moment, then her mouth moved against his, tasting him back. They remained that way, leaning over the table, kissing gently, leisurely. A first kiss. A shy kiss.
Jensen pulled back, blinking at her. An earthshaking kiss.
“I don’t suppose you’d consider going out with me. You know, on an actual date. Not that I haven’t really enjoyed our encounters so far.”
She straightened away from him, her retreat pretty telling as to what she thought of that suggestion.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It seems like a pretty natural idea to me,” he pointed out. Why was he even pressing for this? He didn’t want a relationship with anyone outside of Katie. And Katie was gone. Why was he pursuing this woman? The strange woman with the possible morals of an alley cat. A woman who was nothing like Katie.
“Um,” she glanced around, looking decidedly trapped. Despite his own train of thought, he was rather offended. He didn’t like the idea of being used for sex. Many men might, he suspected, but he wasn’t one of them, apparently.
But instead of voicing his irritation, he simply let it go, deciding to retreat to safer topics. “So what do you do for work?”
She shifted again. Apparently work wasn’t one of her safer subjects. But she did answer.
“I’m a research scientist.”
Okay, he didn’t see that one coming. “Really? What kind of research?”
She shifted again, then added to the mound of crumbs she’d created with her uneaten bread. “Cellular science. Cell mutation and regeneration.”
Wow—again, he was surprised. “Is it cancer research or something like that?”
She nodded, brushing the crumbs off her fingers. “Something like that. And what do you do?”
“I’m a veterinarian.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened slightly, then she laughed. “Of course you are.”
He frowned, not understanding her reaction.
She seemed to realize that he wasn’t getting the joke, and she sobered—after a few more giggles.
“Do you live here? Or are you just visiting?” she finally asked, keeping her expression impassive.
“Yeah, I live here. This was my childhood home. I just came back. About a month ago—August 15, actually.” He only remembered the exact date because it was his grandfather’s birthday. Jensen started to add that, when he realized something was wrong with Elizabeth.
All the pinkness drained from her face and she sat perfectly straight as if she was frozen.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, staring at him as if she’d suddenly seen a ghost.
“Can I get you a drink or something?” She looked awful—as if she might pass out.
“I... I have a headache,” she said. “Do you have any aspirin?”
“Sure. In the bathroom.” He stood. “Just a second.”
She nodded, her complexion looking more gray than white now, and that shade didn’t make him feel any better.
He hurried out of the room, heading up the stairs to the bathroom. The ancient medicine cabinet squeaked as he pulled it open and rummaged through his grandfather’s brown medication bottles to find any sort of over-the-counter painkiller.
What had brought on that reaction? Maybe she had problems with migraines, although even migraines didn’t come on that quickly. Still, something had been very, very wrong with her, and physical ailment seemed to make sense.
He found a bottle of ibuprofen and rushed downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
“Here you go,” he said, holding up the bottle as he entered the kitchen.
Except the look of relief he’d expected wasn’t there. The kitchen was empty. Her chair pushed in, her bowl placed in the sink, and even the mountain of crumbled bread wiped up. But Elizabeth was gone. Only the heady scent of spiced vanilla lingered. The only distinct proof she’d ever been here, and they’d done what they’d done.
He stood there for a moment, uncertain what to do. Then he wandered to the table and set down the bottle.
He glanced at the table, then at the newspapers, which were still scattered on the floor. The headline about the unexplained wolf-like creature jumped out at him, seeming oddly apropos. Some residents had seen mystery wolves, while he had his mystery woman.
It was best that she’d gone, he told himself. After all, what had they really had to talk about?
Oh, they’d had a lot to talk about. He’d had questions galore. Why him? What was she getting out of their meetings? What made her seem so brazen one minute and so timid the next? What did she want from him? But he hadn’t asked many of them, and now he may not get any answers.
Chapter 8
B
rody loped behind Elizabeth, keeping a safe distance between them. Not that she’d have noticed him. She was too intent on racing away from the scene of her latest indiscretion. And, he had to admit, he no longer found this behavior of hers entertaining or a novelty.
He hadn’t thought much about Lizzie’s behavior since she left the pack. In fact, he hadn’t cared. But he did now, because he needed that proper, prudish girl back. He was counting on her to give him credibility, and if she continued to act like this, well, the pack wouldn’t believe he’d changed. They’d only see that Lizzie had changed. That wouldn’t work. He needed that regal, icy princess—proper and refined.
But something else still bothered him even more than her changed behavior. That scent. The scent that wafted through the forest air like a noxious, stifling stench. A very dangerous scent.
He’d wanted to believe that he’d been mistaken about what he’d smelled the other night. But now, there was no doing that. And she’d returned to that same man. She wanted something from that man, even if she didn’t know it.
No, there was no mistaking what was going on here.
He leapt over a fallen tree, his paws silent as he moved a little closer to Lizzie. She raced over the uneven terrain, not as graceful in her human form as he was as his wolf self. Maybe he should just kill her now. He could kill her out here, and who would even know who’d done it? Who would even find her for weeks?
He picked up speed, kicking up leaves as he gained on her. It would be so easy to bring her down. Go for the legs. Humans were clumsy, moving on just two long appendages.
She didn’t even sense him. That alone told him the state she was in. He could just kill her. Cheating bitch.
He got closer still, close enough to smell that strong scent. The nauseatingly spicy odor fired his anger. He snapped his jaws, his teeth clacking. Just bring her down. But just as he would have lunged, his jaws locking on her fragile calf, he veered away.
He came to a halt beside a large pine, watching Lizzie dash off toward her place.
The wolf in him still hungered for the attack, but he couldn’t kill her. Not before he got what he wanted from her. She was his access back into the pack. The pack wouldn’t turn him away if he came back with her. She was above all of them, and they knew it.
He hated to admit it, but he needed her. And once he got what he wanted, then he’d make her pay.
No one double-crossed him. Not his pack. And especially not his female.
Elizabeth collapsed on her sofa, pulling in deep breaths, her tired lungs and her pounding heart unhappy with her breakneck sprint home. A werewolf could run faster than a mortal in their human form—but ten miles at top speed through the forest was a bit much, even for her.
But she hadn’t been thinking about the effect on her body when she’d run out of Jensen’s. Not thinking about her body—that was novel as of late. But then, her body was satisfied. Just as it had been the last time she’d been with Jensen.
Of course, now her mind was racing. And she couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. He’d moved here about a month ago. August 15. And maybe she wasn’t remembering her own dates correctly. Heaven knew, she wasn’t herself. She was forgetting huge chunks of time. She could easily mix up a few dates.
But she didn’t think she had. She took a couple more calming breaths, then struggled off the sofa and headed to the kitchen. Hanging on the wall, near the phone, was a calendar. A calendar with puppies and kittens on it. An innocuous enough calendar, until you saw the days of the full moon highlighted in bright orange. High-alert days.
She flipped back a month and looked at August 15. Then her eyes skipped ahead. August 20 was highlighted in yellow, the color she used to mark the days when she gave herself an inoculation of the serum. She’d also made a small notation on August 18—something that hadn’t meant much to her at the time. Just a reminder that she had taken something to help her sleep. Valerian root. That’s why she’d waited until the 20th to give herself the serum. She didn’t want anything to interfere with her serum, so she’d made sure the herb was out of her system before she inoculated herself.
But that proved that her restlessness had started before the vaccination. In fact, she was certain it had started on the 15th. The day Jensen returned to town.
So it couldn’t be the serum making her act like a crazy woman—well, at least not in this case. Although it could be exacerbating what was happening inside her.
Still, what was happening? It made no sense. None.
So was it Jensen? Was he the trigger to all these feelings? Could she really become physically aware of him even before they met? That wasn’t possible.
A werewolf could be aware of other werewolves. Especially their mate. But she’d never heard of one of her kind being so in tune to a human.
She turned away from the calendar and dropped into a kitchen chair. Okay, she couldn’t keep obsessing about this and she couldn’t let it happen again. She needed to concentrate on her research. Maybe she had really been suffering from insomnia and stress because of her research, and somehow when she gave herself the serum, it had done... something that made her aware of Jensen.
“That makes no sense,” she stated aloud. But then, none of the things that happened in the past month had. She got up and checked the answering machine on the counter. No messages.
“Damn,” she muttered. Dr. Fowler had to call soon. She really needed his input on all of this.
She glanced over at the calendar—she still had several days before the next full moon, so she had to focus on her research. It was obviously her only hope. Maybe she could detect what in the cells’ mutation would cause this—it had to be the serum. Nothing else made sense.
She got up and walked to the door, then paused with her hand on the knob. Maybe she should put on some underwear before she went to work.
“I cannot believe you cut out on us like that,” Brian said, leaning on the counter of Jensen’s grandfather’s veterinary office.
Jensen paused at that thought. No,
his
office. This was his office now. One would think he’d remember that, since he’d lost so much to make this a reality.
Jensen managed the good grace to look embarrassed. “I just wasn’t feeling well and decided I needed to head home to bed.” With a little detour.
“Well, you should have let us know where you were going,” Brian said, then his usual easy smile returned. “Plus, you missed all the excitement. This woman and this man got into it, while you were in the bathroom. Or maybe you’d snuck out by then.”
“Really?” Jensen said, trying to sound interested as he went over the very few calls he’d received. Very few. Turns out that people were as unwilling to accept new vets as they were doctors.
“Yeah, this tall, thin woman hit this huge guy. Some of the people in the bar said it looked like she actually picked the guy right up and threw him. I didn’t see that, but I heard her growl. Just like a wild animal.”
Jensen’s head snapped up. Could that have been Elizabeth? And the hulk she’d been talking to?
He started to ask more, then stopped himself. He just had Elizabeth on the brain. Which was understandable, given their two encounters. She did tend to make quite an impact. Still, the odds of her assaulting a man... and growling... seemed low.
Yeah, like he knew enough about her to make any judgment.
And worse than that was the fact that she hadn’t returned on Sunday. He’d hated to admit it, but he’d waited for her to show up at his door. Even his grandfather had mentioned that he’d seemed distracted. He’d claimed that he was just overtired. Which was true enough—sleep had remained a distant aspiration since meeting Elizabeth.
It was best just not to think about her. Given her past behavior, the likelihood was that he’d never see her again. She’d probably moved on to another man who’d caught her fancy in another bar.
He paused. No, she’d said that she didn’t do that sort of thing. And even though he couldn’t imagine why, he believed her.
No, he did know why. He wanted to believe her.
But it didn’t much matter what he believed, because the fact was, he probably wouldn’t see her again.
And that was a good thing.
“... really enjoyed meeting you,” Brian was still talking, but Jensen realized he’d missed what was being said.
“What? I’m sorry.”
Brian gave him a look as if he thought Jensen was pretty much gone. Jensen had to admit he was feeling a little nutty.
“Melanie. She really enjoyed talking with you the other night. Before you pulled your little disappearing act.”
Jensen nodded, not sure exactly what to say. He didn’t want to give his friend the idea that he’d want to see Melanie again. He wasn’t interested in dating.
But hadn’t he asked Elizabeth out? Hadn’t he been disappointed when she wasn’t in the kitchen, and she’d never given him an answer? Although her disappearing act had pretty much said it all.
Apparently his own hadn’t made the same point to Melanie.
Unfortunately, his lack of reply hadn’t been the right one for Brian, either.
“She’d love to go out on a date with you,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Jensen shook his head and straightened away from the counter, wanting to stop this conversation now.
“I’m not interested, Brian.”
Brian straightened, too, and Jensen realized he hadn’t stopped it. Damn.
“You do know that you can’t stop living just because Katie died.”
Jensen ground his back teeth. Here we go again. The talk he’d received from dozens of people since Katie died. For the first time, however, he did feel maybe people were right. Even as he thought that, guilt tightened his chest. After all, this wasn’t just about Katie dying. This was about his role in her death. This was about his selfishness and what it had cost Katie.
“Melanie is a nice woman,” Brian was saying, and Jensen held up a hand to stop him.
“Brian, I know that. But I’m just not interested.”
Brian stared at him for a moment, obviously trying to decide if he should try to press his point. But finally he just nodded. “I know you’ve had a hard time of it.”
Jensen nodded, too. Brian had no idea. And frankly, his time wasn’t getting any easier. T
hank
s to a beautiful woman, a pair of peculiar pale eyes, and possible multiple personalities.
“So, have you heard there’ve been more sightings of a large wolf-like creature over near the Steadbetter Farm?”
Jensen knew that was Brian’s way of dropping the uncomfortable subject, and he appreciated it. “Really?”
Brian nodded. “I read in the
Journal
that old Mr. Steadbetter said the thing was huge. He said he’d never seen anything like it.” He widened his eyes and made a little howl, his very poor imitation of a wolf.
Jensen smiled, shaking his head. “I think the locals are desperate for news.”
Brian nodded. “It’s always pretty quiet here.”
Jensen would have liked to agree, but things had been pretty crazy for him recently.
“So tell me more about the woman shoving the guy in the bar,” he heard himself asking his friend.
“I didn’t really see it,” Brian said. “But I did see the aftermath. The huge guy was pissed.”
“What did the woman look like?” He tried to sound casual, asking himself why he was even going there. He needed to stop thinking about Elizabeth. For his own sanity. But his mouth kept on going. “I mean, you said she was pretty small?”
Brian smiled, seeming to warm up to the change of topic. “Tall, but thin. Definitely not the type you’d peg as being tough enough to take down a guy this size.”
Tall and thin could be Elizabeth, and she had been talking to a huge guy, but she’d hardly looked disheveled when he’d seen her in the parking lot. Nor had she looked shaken. She’d been pretty damn calm and determined.
“The only thing I recall about her was her eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like that. The lightest blue I think I’ve ever seen. They looked eerie, really.”
Jensen paused. That could be Elizabeth—not that he’d describe her eyes as
eerie
, but rather
mesmerizing
.
“Actually, that’s not true,” Brian said. “I noticed the bartender had the same eyes—eerily pale. He also came over to the woman after the scuffle. I wonder if they are related or something.”
Jensen considered that for a moment, then promptly told himself it wasn’t likely. So the bartender had light blue eyes. What were the chances he was Elizabeth’s relative?
Jensen paced back and forth, watching the building as if gun-toting gang members were going to burst outside and shoot him down.
Getting shot down? Maybe that was what he was worried about—figuratively, rather than literally. And it wasn’t by the bartender, who likely wouldn’t have any idea who Elizabeth was, anyway. It was definitely the possibility of Elizabeth shooting him down.
“Just go home,” he muttered to himself, but then, instead of heading back to his truck, he paced again, watching the bar.