Samhain Publishing

Everything in Seth Gramble’s world came to a crashing halt the second Paxton Tenor entered the bar. The singer’s country twang ceased, the clank of beer bottles and glasses disappeared, and the din of loud voices over the cadence of the music evaporated until there was nothing left but her.

He wanted her.

Had wanted her since meeting her six months ago. When they’d crossed paths he’d been working a case as a consultant for Leid’s—a firm that supplied vampires and their extra-sensory perceptions to police departments and private security companies across the country. Seth had run into his best friend, Luke Summers, at the precinct where he was a detective. Luke introduced Seth to his partner, Paxton.

At first she’d been warm toward him, friendly even. Right up to the second Luke mentioned Seth was a vampire. Then she’d gone into lockdown and Seth hadn’t gotten anything but the cold shoulder from her since.

And who could blame her for the emotion, since one of his kind had killed her long-time lover two years ago. One rogue had turned Miss Paxton against vampires for life it seemed.

Two years was long enough to mourn, wasn’t it?

He was surprised he’d made it these last six months without claiming her. Only his business with Leid’s had protected her from his soul-deep desire of having her.

Perhaps wanting her was too soft an expression.

He needed her. In every sense of the word. He needed her trust. Needed her essence surrounding him. Needed her body beneath his, needed to be buried as deep inside her as he could go, his teeth imbedded in her soft skin. Needed her love.

Sitting back, waiting for her to get over her fear of him, wasn’t cutting it anymore. Watching a smile tug at the corners of her beautiful, bow-shaped mouth made Seth decide then and there that now was the time to do something about her dislike of his species.

Paxton smiled again, those full, ripe lips just begging to be kissed. She never looked at him that way, and his jealousy toward the woman now receiving the grin raged beneath his skin.

Just once he wanted that smile directed at him instead of her usual hide-behind-some-excuse reaction whenever he came near.

Paxton Tenor, the one woman in the world made for him, didn’t like him. Or at least didn’t like what he embodied. That bad seed had condemned the whole of his species in her eyes.

Her head tilted back, causing waves of auburn curls caught in a ponytail to cascade down her back and revealing her long, slender neck as she laughed at something her friend said. The sound made his balls tighten and his shaft thicken and harden to the point of pain. His incisors elongated, ready to penetrate the tender skin of her throat, allowing him to drink from her.

If he walked over to her, the melodic, orgasm-inducing laughter would stop, simply because he was near. Her pulse would speed up, allowing him to hear it beating, and the soft whoosh, whoosh would become a persistent hammer in her veins. Her muscles would tense, her hands would shake and a flush would stain her cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

It was the same flush he was sure he’d find on her body when he made her come the first time. And every time thereafter.

He’d make love to her. Soon. Because despite her cool demeanor, her nipples always tightened into little buds and the tell-tale scent of her arousal inevitably wafted across his nose whenever he was near her.

She wanted him.

She grotesquely hated that she did, but she wanted him just the same.

“Seth.”

He allowed the rumble that bubbled from deep inside at Luke’s interruption.

“Hey, man, don’t eat the messenger.” The man threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“What?” Seth crumpled the napkin he’d swiped from beneath the bottle of Synth he hadn’t touched and urged his third persona, the jaguar, not to come forth and attack his best friend.

“You meeting with Cap tonight?”

Seth grunted and kept his gaze on Paxton as she stretched her arms above her head. The act elongated her torso and pushed her breasts against the fabric of the silky button-down shirt she wore.

“I thought so, but he hasn’t called yet,” Seth had known the captain wanted to see him. The owner of Leid’s Consulting had told Seth he’d been requested. That’s why he was here waiting for the captain’s call instead of back at home enjoying the ballgame in peace and quiet. Why go home when he was just going to get called in to work again?

What-the-hell-ever. He was here because he’d known Paxton would be here after a long day on the job.

“Yeah. He did. Said he couldn’t get a hold of you for some reason.” Luke’s tone was dry as he turned toward Paxton. “Can’t imagine what might be causing your brain to tune out.”

“Me neither.” Seth shook his head to clear it and forced himself to look away from the woman who’d made him miss a call. Not only had he not heard his phone, but he’d tuned out his telepathy as well. Damn psychic ability shorted out whenever Paxton was around. She made him useless.

“I tried to call your cell too. No answer. You’re so preoccupied your superior hearing isn’t even working?” Luke quirked an eyebrow and Seth could tell he was trying not to laugh. “We need you.”

Seth glanced at the phone on his hip and saw that he had in fact missed two calls, then slid his gaze to the reason he’d missed them. Paxton laughed again, sending every ounce of blood in Seth’s body to his groin.

“What’s the case?” His boss at Leid’s hadn’t specified what Captain Quinn wanted him for. Could be for any number of things. A serial rapist, an arsonist, a drug ring? He’d even taken part in a sting operation involving the trafficking of young girls.

Seth took a long drag of the Synth and grimaced at its coolness. He much preferred it warm. Or at the very least, room temperature. Too bad manufacturers hadn’t figured out a way to keep it fresh without refrigeration. Maybe he’d go out later for the real thing.

He eyed Paxton and there went his desire for the real thing. No other woman would be able to slake his hunger.

Luke slapped Seth on the shoulder. “The Panty Bandit, my friend.”

Seth choked on the Synth he’d yet to fully swallow, spraying the table with synthetic blood. Christ, he’d been thinking arsonist and they wanted him to find some dickweed with a panty fetish? “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Asshole’s been raiding panty drawers all over town, and Cap’s taking the heat from the mayor to catch the ass.”

Luke’s pager beeped at his waist. He looked down at the same exact moment Paxton did, indicating her pager had gone off too. Not surprising with them being partners.

“We gotta go. You too, Toothy. Your royal presence has been requested by Cap himself. Since you wouldn’t answer any of your usual methods of communication, he sent me as his errand boy to retrieve you. Next time, leave your brain on and open the airwaves so I don’t have to be his bitch.”

Sucking down the last of the Synth with a grimace, Seth stood. Paxton did also, still laughing at something her friend said and making Seth’s dick emulate his upright position, the same way it did every time he saw her.

“You like being his bitch, Luke, don’t deny it.” He threw a couple of bucks on the table as a tip.

“Only for you, vamp. Only for you.”

“How is your ass, by the way?” Seth taunted, continuing their longstanding joke of Luke being the captain’s bitch.

“You wish. Now shut the hell up, Toothy, and let’s go before Cap craps a diamond.”

They both turned to Paxton, who was watching them warily, apparently not wanting to get too close to Seth, which irritated him. He was done being irritated with her brushing him off. It was time to step into her personal space.

“You got your car, Pax, or you need a ride?” Luke asked.

She took a few steps forward. Seth stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans to try and look less intimidating. Or maybe it was because what he really wanted to do was tear that band out of her hair, tangle his hands in the long, silky strands, pull her to him and kiss the living hell out of her.

His fangs dropped, nicking his lip as if he were some out-of-control adolescent vamp. Wishing it was her blood, he licked the drop that welled, then heard her sharp intake of breath as he looked at her from beneath his lowered lids. Those beautiful green eyes were locked on his mouth, and the tip of her tongue came out to swipe across her own lips.

Holy mother of vampirism. Her pupils dilated, her nostrils flared and the pulse at the base of her throat went into overdrive. Seth didn’t let his gaze travel down to her breasts where he knew he’d find her nipples hard as rocks.

Goddammit. He wasn’t going to look.

“I have mine,” she snapped, yanking his attention from her chest. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Fine.” Luke palmed his keys then reached for Seth’s face with his thumb. “You got a little blood there, sweetie.”

Paxton smothered a laugh, and Seth wished he’d never vowed not to read her mind. He wanted to know all the things that made her laugh. He wanted to be the one to make her smile instead of pissing her off.

Seth slapped his moron friend’s hand away from his face. “I’ll follow you.”

Paxton walked beside her partner and nudged him with her elbow. “Why are you here?”

“To pick up Seth.”

“You mean Cap made you do his bidding again, huh?”

“Shad up.” He threw his arm around her neck and gave her a noogie.

Seth’s cat clamored inside his head again, and along with a few claws appearing at his fingertips, he couldn’t stop the possessive hiss that escaped his lips. Seeing his best friend’s arms around his woman did not sit well with any of his three personas—vamp, jaguar or human.

“You too, Toothy,” Luke said over his shoulder. “Your hissing doesn’t scare me.”

“What do we need him for?” Paxton whispered to Luke.

No need for her to whisper, Seth could hear every word, and she damn well knew it. Ah, the joy of being the bane of her existence. No problem. He’d take pleasure in teaching her that not all vampires were cut of the same cloth as the one who’d killed her lover.

The gun at Paxton’s right hip caught on Luke’s at his left as they walked, they were so close. Seth silently thanked God for making Luke a lefty. The small amount of space created by their weapons was the only thing keeping them from being glued together from shoulder to ankle.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe he can sniff out the bandit.”

“By smelling underwear? This I’ve got to see.”

Luke chuckled. “I don’t know exactly why Cap wanted him, but the mayor’s having a conniption, and I wasn’t about to question him.”

“I still don’t understand why you had to come get him. I thought the captain could…you know, talk to him. In his head or something. Don’t all vampires do that? And doesn’t the man own a phone?” she grumbled, still talking under her breath.

“He can, normally,” Seth answered, even though he knew she’d been speaking to Luke.

“Don’t do that.” Paxton stopped so fast Seth had to put his hands up to keep from running over her.

Her shoulders under his fingers—thank God his claws had disappeared—felt fantastic. It was all he could do not to run his hands down her body to her waist where he could yank her close and smother her lips with his.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” he asked innocently.

“Read my mind.”

“But I didn’t. You said that out loud.”

“You did, Pax,” Luke confirmed. “Sorry.”

Paxton swallowed and lifted her eyes to Seth in an almost-shy way. “I didn’t say it loud enough for anyone else to hear.”

“For another human, sure. But to a vamp? I can hear your pulse, sweetheart.”

Her hand shot to the base of her throat, covering it.

Oh, Princess, give me an inch…

He leaned in close and inhaled the scent of her hair and skin. “Don’t cover it, baby. Won’t make it go away.” He pressed his lips to the area just below her ear, reveling in the fact she didn’t jump back from him this time. Her blood pounded in her veins, louder as she held her breath.

“Breathe, baby. I won’t hurt you.”

She sucked in a breath, shocked no doubt that he’d spoken in her head for the first time. “How do you do that?”

He straightened. “Part of who I am.”

“Can I—? Never mind,” she spat, cutting herself off.

Damn. For a minute there he’d thought he had her intrigued. He answered her anyway. “Not yet.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and Seth eased her forward with a hand at the small of her back. Her partner held the door open as they walked out of the cop-filled bar into the warm night air.

“What do you mean ‘not yet’?”

“We haven’t bonded.”

“Bonded?”

Son of a bitch. He hadn’t meant to say that. Not until he’d made love to her and told her she was his mate. Oh, and there was the little problem of convincing her that not all vampires were created equal.

Sighing, he stopped her and tilted her face with a finger under her chin. Now that he’d made the decision to go for her, he wasn’t about to stop touching her. “Yes.”

“What do you mean, ‘bonded’?”

“Jesus, Pax, you sound like a parrot. Bonded. Had sex. Mated,” Luke rattled off.

Seth swore and stomped on Luke’s foot. The man grunted and cursed like a girl then punched Seth’s shoulder. Seth barely felt it, though knowing Luke, it was probably a hefty left jab.

Paxton huffed. “I’m not having sex with you.”

Seth grinned. “You will.”

This time her eyes narrowed in anger. “Think so?”

“Nope. I know so.” He nudged her forward again, heading for the parking lot and her six-year-old, blue Toyota Camry.

“Arrogant prick.” She spoke from the corner of her mouth.

Luke propped his arms on top of the driver door when Seth pulled it open for Paxton. “So if bonding is how you’re able to hear someone else talking to you, maybe we should ask Cap how his ass is.”

Seth laughed out loud. “Go right ahead. I dare you. But promise you’ll let me be in the room when you ask.” He motioned Paxton into the driver’s seat. Before she could stick her key in the ignition he reached across her with the seat belt and buckled her in.

“I can buckle my own seat belt, thank you very much, and don’t think for one second I will ever sleep with you,” she ground out, leaning as far back in the seat as possible to avoid his crowding her.

“I know you can buckle yourself, but it gave me a good excuse to touch you again. And I never said anything about sleeping, Princess.” He drew his lips across hers as he backed out and was fairly surprised she didn’t smack him in return. Especially since, in all the time he’d known her, he hadn’t touched her once, and now he’d nuzzled her ear and kissed her lightly in the space of a few minutes. He’d waited long enough for her to feel comfortable in his presence. He was done waiting. Might as well push the envelope and drag her feelings out of her.

She pressed her lips together, whether in mutiny or excitement, he couldn’t tell. The one thing he did know was that at the moment she wasn’t really frightened of him, per se, but of what she felt between them. The same thing he felt.

A minor victory, he considered, based on her view of vampirism.

“Be safe,” he murmured and yanked the door out from under Luke’s arms to shut it.

This time he was pretty sure she was pissed because she mouthed the word asshole before cranking the engine to life and backing out of the space, leaving Seth standing there chuckling and Luke grinning from ear to ear.

“She must like you. She doesn’t call just anyone asshole.”

“You saw that too, did you?” Seth’s fangs dropped to razor-sharp points. If she could call him an asshole, it meant she was warming up to him.

And he was about to take full advantage of the situation.

Dylan tossed a heavy piece of wood onto the bonfire, sending a cloud of sparks into the night air. Heat blanketed his arms. The skin on his face felt tight and dry, and smoke tickled his nose. The moon hung over the fire, bright and swollen, its light blocking the stars from view. He felt its pull, starting low in his stomach. He wanted to run. He wanted to chase the moon until his lungs burned and the ache in his legs disappeared. But he couldn’t flee his own birthday party. Not that he wanted to leave his friends. He just wanted to stretch himself until he reached his limit.

“Somebody’s going to get lucky tonight.”

Dylan looked up sharply to see his friend, Doug, leering at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday. There’s a full moon, lots of booze and Daria has been eyeing you all night.”

“There’s never been anything between me and Daria,” Dylan pointed out.

Doug laughed. “So that means something can’t start between you?”

“Why are you over here pestering me? Did Kate get tired of you or something?”

“Kate’s talking to her friends about girl stuff. I got bored.”

“You’re always bored.”

“Am not. So, how does it feel to be twenty-one?”

Dylan kicked a piece of wood towards the fire. “Not much different from the way twenty felt, I guess.”

“What are you talking about? You’re finally, like, an adult.”

Dylan arched his brow. “You mean, I can finally live in my own house, drive my own car, hold down a job and go to school full time? That sort of adult? Because in that case, twenty-one feels a lot like nineteen.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean. You can finally get drunk legally. How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I never even got drunk illegally. And this is my second beer.”

“Dude, you are really not clear on the concept of a bonfire party.”

“Somebody has got to be sober enough to pull your ass out of the fire when you fall in.”

“That somebody has got to be you?” Doug asked.

Dylan looked around. “I don’t see anybody else here who’d be willing to pull your ass out of a bonfire.”

“It just seems like you can live a little now.”

“Is that why you’re waiting to turn twenty-one? I don’t think it’s going to make the difference you think it will. Not in Delta, at any rate.”

Not that Delta was a particularly bad place to live. It wasn’t. Dylan liked it well enough—though an argument could be made that he only liked it because he had never lived anywhere else—but it was small. It had started out as a tiny compound for a few shifters who had banded together for survival, and that basic mindset still pervaded the entire community. But it wasn’t so insular that there weren’t opportunities for a decent life. A growing number of shifters made their living through freelancing and telecommuting, and young and old alike took advantage of the online programs the Utah universities offered. Dylan was only two years away from a master’s in computer science.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll leave Delta,” Doug said.

“Really?”

“Other shifters have left. It’s not like we’re prisoners here or something. You’re not going to leave after you finish up with school?”

“No. I like it here. My friends are here. My family’s here. I like my house. Besides…I’d miss this too much. The desert. The moon.”

“You could see the moon anywhere,” Doug said.

“Not like this. It’s not the same.”

“Whatever, man. I’m going to go get a drink. You want one?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Dylan turned his attention back to the fire. He liked to watch the flames lick at the stacks of wood, the sparks swirling with each gust of breeze, the coals glowing so red they were almost golden. Maybe he would get a fireplace installed in his house as a birthday present to himself. It never got very cold in Delta, but watching a fire was inexplicably soothing.

“Hey, you. Are you ready for a piece of cake?” Daria’s question was as bright as her smile.

“The cake you made?”

“Yep. Chocolate strawberry.”

“I’ve been looking forward to that all night.”

“Come on, then.” She looked over her shoulder. “Your parents know how you’re celebrating your birthday?”

“Well, they know I gave them my blessing when they told me they were going to be out of town.”

“I didn’t expect Irene to be willing to leave her little boy on his birthday.”

“She was not. But they both deserved a vacation, and Dad needs to be back to the school in two weeks. Besides, she called me today and I assured her that I was fine.” Dylan wrapped his arm around Daria and gave her a gentle squeeze. “But I did warn her that I wasn’t going to save any of your cake for her.”

“Maybe we should sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you first,” Daria suggested.

“I think we should just cut the cake first.”

“But what about your candles?”

“Candles? Who needs candles? I have a bonfire.”

Daria giggled, and began to slice. The knife cut through the confection easily, exposing the dense cake and the bright red berries. “You like butter frosting, right?”

“I love it.”

“Then you’ll get a piece with extra frosting tonight.”

“Thank you.”

She beamed at him and handed him the cake. The butter frosting smeared across his finger, and he licked it away, sucking on the tip to capture the rich flavor.

“Now this is what birthdays are about. In fact…” The hair prickled on the back of his neck. Instincts flared to life, and he swung his head around, searching for…what? He felt like prey. Like something, or somebody, was stalking towards him. He searched the crowd, his gaze finally falling on a woman he didn’t recognize.

The bonfire cast a golden tint to her already dusky skin, and flickered in almond-shaped eyes that made her seem more exotic than the wild mane of coppery curls falling down her back did. Even her simple jeans and top ensemble enhanced her beauty. The worn-denim-encased legs stretched for miles, while her plunging neckline highlighted full, high breasts. It was hard to tear his gaze away. It was even harder when the corner of her ripe lips lifted, and Dylan suddenly flashed on what her mouth might feel like doing something other than smiling.

The carnal instinct drove him back to Daria. Safe Daria. Cute Daria. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about anymore, but he smiled anyway. He even managed to say something that made her laugh.

But out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mystery woman moving. She circled a pickup and came to a halt at the front of Dylan’s Mustang. One long, slim hand stretched to trace over the hood, the caress of a lover instead of someone more casual. It was slow, and deliberate, and his entire body tightened with its unspoken promise.

A heavy curl fell against her cheek. When she reached up to push it off, the woman caught Dylan’s eye. Another enigmatic smile. A flare of her nostrils. He had no idea who she was, but he had no doubt she was a shifter. She was too feral to be anything else.

“I’ll be right back,” Dylan said, setting his plate on the table.

“Where are you going?” Daria asked.

“There’s somebody here I need to say hi to. I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, okay.”

He didn’t like just abandoning Daria by the fire, but there were plenty of people there to keep her company. He needed to know who the strange woman was, and why she had appeared at his party without warning. She reminded him of the moon—something he could feel even if he didn’t quite understand why. He wanted to walk right up to her and blurt his name, but that might be creepy.

Instead, he pulled the Mustang door open and tugged out the blanket. Good, good. Make it look casual. Like you need a blanket at a bonfire on a hot summer night.

“I don’t know you, do I? I think it’s only fair to introduce yourself to the guest of honor.”

She didn’t move from where she sat against the edge of the hood, leaning back on her hands to stare up into the star-speckled sky. The slight evening breeze rustled the ends of her hair where it fell down her back.

“Introducing myself doesn’t really tell you much about me, though, does it?” Her voice was a husky alto, soft and clear in spite of the din of the party behind him. “I’m sure there’s stuff about me you’d find a hell of a lot more interesting than my name.”

She definitely wasn’t like the other girls he knew. Those other girls didn’t intimidate him. Or intrigue him. His feet moved without conscious direction. “I think your name might be a good start.”

Her head tilted as she regarded him, a debate clearly warring behind her eyes. There was a moment when he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she smiled, and his gut clenched. “Gena. And you’re Dylan.”

She was right. The revelation of her name didn’t actually tell him anything. He couldn’t think of anybody in Delta named Gena. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Daria still hovering near the fire, as though waiting for his return. Did Daria know her? Somebody at the party must have at least recognized Gena—nobody could forget a face, or a body, like hers.

“Yeah. What are you doing way over here by yourself?” Dylan gestured over to the fire. “There’s some cake. Or beer, if you’re thirsty.”

“I had a beer, thanks. And cake…” her nose wrinkled, turning her lips—albeit briefly—into the most delectable moue, “…not really my thing. Frosting on the other hand…” She touched the corner of her mouth, enough for him to realize with frightening embarrassment that he must have some stuck to his face. “I’d volunteer to clean it off for you, but I think your girlfriend might be a little upset with me if I did that.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend. I mean, she’s nice and I kind of like her, but we haven’t…we aren’t…” Dylan moved closer. He hadn’t left the fire so he could explain his relationship, or lack thereof, with Daria. “We’re just friends.”

“Well, that’s good.”

When Gena leaned towards him, he almost did the same. He had to force his body to freeze when the tip of her finger touched the edge of his lips. It wasn’t anything more than the slightest of contact, but his skin electrified at the heat of her body, his pulse jumping when her nail scratched upon withdrawal. Frosting clung to her finger, but only for as long as it took to suck it into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed. There was no way she wasn’t doing that on purpose. The fleeting thought that one of his buddies might have hired her as a special birthday present crossed his mind.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since your cousin pointed you out to me.”

Dylan smiled a little uncertainly. “You have? Are you…?” Gena licked her lips. She was making it difficult to think straight. He owed Shawn big time for this. “Are you from around here? I mean, are you from Delta?”

She shook her head. “But I am from around here. Just…out there.” She nodded towards the darkness. “It’s a gorgeous night, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Dylan agreed, his attention locked on her. “I couldn’t ask for a better night.” I couldn’t ask for a better night? Nice. Real slick. If she walked away from him, Dylan wouldn’t blame her.

Except she didn’t roll her eyes at him or otherwise mock his response. Instead, she inched sideways, making a clear—but narrow—space for him to sit down. Dylan took a single step, then halted in his tracks when she proceeded to lie back against the cold metal. The way her hair fanned around her head made him itch to run his fingers through it, while the moonlight sculpted her body in silver shadows.

“So come and enjoy it with me.”

This couldn’t be real. His friends set this up. It was some sort of elaborate practical joke, and soon, they’d jump from behind the trucks to mock him for thinking a mysterious, beautiful woman emerged from the desert just to flirt with him.

Dylan perched on the edge of the hood then slowly lowered himself backwards. It might be some sort of big set up, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. “The moon’s bright tonight too.”

Her arm brushed against his. Now that he was close to her, the faint scent of her skin filled his head. She didn’t smell like the bonfire but earthy and rich, like she’d spent the entire day sunbathing in the nude.

He really needed to stop imagining her naked.

“These are my favorite moons.” Thank God she was talking again. “Like you can just pluck it out of the sky.”

Dylan chuckled, though he wasn’t exactly amused. That just seemed like the thing to do. “Me too.” He paused before adding, “I’ve always felt a strong bond with the moon.” He knew he wasn’t winning any points for intelligent conversation, but he hoped she understood what he meant.

Gena tilted her head towards him, her hair brushing along her cheek. They were too far away from the fire for him to discern what color her eyes were, but they shone with the same radiance as the stars, bright and intelligent. “Is that why you had a bonfire for a birthday party? So you could be out here at night?”

“Yeah. It’s hard for me to stay indoors when there’s a full moon. All my friends wanted to go barhopping, but there are only three bars in Delta. I convinced them we should take the booze with us and go to the desert.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Of course, I didn’t count on just about everybody under thirty following us out here.”

“Bigger crowd makes it easier to slip away.”

“Yeah, I guess nobody’s noticed my absence, yet.” Which didn’t make any sense. If this were a practical joke, wouldn’t people be jumping out of the shadows by now? Without a doubt. That meant this was real. This conversation, this girl, the moon reflecting in her eyes. It was all real. “But we haven’t exactly gone far.”

“The night’s still young.” Rolling onto her side, Gena rested her cheek against her arm. Her free hand came forward and rested lightly on his chest, the fingertips stroking him gently through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “I’ll bet you’re gorgeous when you shift. Do you prefer to run or fly?”

The heat of her hand was like an imprint on his chest. Now that he no longer expected the gotcha, he didn’t feel so awkward, or out of his element. He did, however, feel intoxicated—with the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin and the pale light of the moon. He felt like running. He wanted to know if she could keep up.

“Run. I don’t like heights.”

She smiled. “Me too. The running part, I mean. There’s nothing more liberating.” Her fingers continued to caress him, each slight brush quickening his pulse. “If you feel like taking off, all you have to do is say the word, you know.”

“I…” He could leap from the car that second. Despite the warm night, he shivered as adrenaline dumped into his system. “Do you want to go for a run? It’d be good to get the blood flowing.”

Gena edged closer until her heat pressed against his hip. Her mouth hovered at his ear. “Running’s my second most favorite thing to do.”

“Put me down,” she whispered.

Duncan let her slide down his body. She could still feel the long, hard length of him between them.

“What am I doing?” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, Duncan.” She was shaking again. He closed his arms around her, holding her tightly, but now it felt all wrong.

“What is it, love?”

She shuddered in his arms. “Cole is downstairs. Cole, Duncan! I’m marrying him in six weeks!”

Unable to control the trembling, she pulled away from him. She grabbed the first thing she could find to put on. It was a shirt of Cole’s, and she yanked it angrily over her head.

It smelled of him, spicy and woodsy, and it covered her down to her knees.

Arms crossed over her chest, she sank into the single armchair in the room and watched Duncan get dressed. When he had his jeans on, he looked at her. “Shite, Tammy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He pulled on his T-shirt and then went to the edge of the bed and sat, facing her in silence for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I should have revealed myself to you a long time ago, but I didn’t. I was wrong, but at the time, I couldn’t help it. The first time I saw you again, you were with Cole, and you looked happy. I wanted you to be happy, love.”

“Without you?” She stared at him, aghast. “Are you crazy?”

He pushed a hand through his black curls. “I’m not the same, Tammy. I went through… I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“How the hell could you think that?”

His expression went flat. “As I said—I’ve changed.”

Tightening her arms across her chest, she glanced at the closed bedroom door. “How’d you get in if you didn’t talk to Cole?”

He glanced away and then back at her. “I had a key made. I let myself in.”

Her breath stuttered in her throat as she stared at his shadowed form. At his GQ face, the dark eyes that gave him just the slightest dangerous air, the thick curly hair that she’d loved to comb her fingers through. His wide shoulders and slightly tapered waist and hips. The black tee accentuated every muscular curve of his chest and shoulders.

His dark good looks combined with his sexy accent had always made him the type of guy that had women falling at his feet at every turn. When she’d first met Duncan, she’d been convinced he was way out of her league, and she’d nearly passed out in shock when he’d asked her out that first time.

He looked exactly as he had four years ago. Not a mark on him from that awful night. How could that be? A plastic surgeon had worked on her scar, but it was still visible when one looked closely.

Chewing on her lower lip, she met Duncan’s dark eyes. “So you aren’t upset? About me and Cole getting married, I mean.”

Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. “No. I’m not upset. I’ve had a couple of years to get used to the idea of you two together.”

But why? Maybe… “Was there someone else?” she whispered, imagining some woman nursing him back to health, falling in love with him… She closed her eyes against the biting jealousy that thought conjured.

He pursed his lips. “No, there isn’t someone else, and there never was. But aye, there were lovers. Not anymore. I didn’t love them. They weren’t my wife. You are.”

For a moment, she just stared at him stunned. He’d had sex with other women. Lots of other women by the sound of it. She felt like kicking his ass. In fact, she kind of wanted to wrap her hands around his neck and strangle him.

Then again, she’d been with Cole. His one-time best friend. She’d been with him a lot, and in more ways than she’d been with Duncan.

Maybe that made them even in some warped way.

She shook her head desperately, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “God, this is too much.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not your wife. I can’t be. I’m going to marry Cole.” She tried to breathe, to tamp down the hysteria. Duncan was alive, and she was going to marry Cole. And she had no intention of stopping the wedding, even though Duncan was back. And yet, even after four years, she still thought of Duncan as her husband.

What a twisted, impossible situation.

“You are my wife.” He took a deep breath. “But I still want you to marry Cole.”

She gaped at him. “Duncan, I—” She snapped her mouth shut. “You’re confusing the hell out of me. Why are you back? What do you want from me? Why now?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I knew this wouldn’t be the easiest thing—for either of us. Let’s just take it a wee bit at a time, all right?”

“O…kay,” she said, not following him at all.

“Look, Tammy. We have all the time in the world to become reacquainted with one another. I’m back. I want you. But I’ve no plans to interfere with the life you’ve made with Cole.”

“Um. Okay,” she repeated, for lack of anything better to say. She was so confused.

“I love you, sweetheart. I never stopped loving you.”

Again, tears sprang to her eyes. Four years of mourning your dead husband was a long time. She’d loved him, cried for him, missed him. She still had terrible nightmares about that night.

After all that, Cole had brought lightness back into her life.

“But—”

“I know. You’re in love with Cole.”

“Yes.”

“It’s all right.”

She shook her head at him, looking at him with wide eyes. “Why? If you knew I was happy with Cole, why did you come back now?”

“Because, after all this time, I realized something.”

“What was that?”

He pinned her with his deep brown gaze. “I’ve spent too long away from you. I need you, Tammy girl. I don’t want to live without you.”