Shadow of the Wolf

Lana grinned.

“One last thing before your young man brings you breakfast.”

He’s making me breakfast? A small part of Lana’s heart warmed towards him. It would have been bigger, but just then the sheet slipped, reminding her of her underwear-less state. Tricky dog. “What’s that, Grammy?”

“Trust your instincts.”

“Want to be a great-grandma that badly, huh?” Lana slapped her hand back over her mouth. What the hell is wrong with me? She never, ever hopped into bed with strange men, let alone strange wolf-man wizard hybrids!

Okay, so, she was kind of already in the bed, but that was all his fault. So was her nakedness. And she had no idea where the bathroom was.

That was all his fault, too.

She ignored her grandmother’s laughter, listening for the sound of Christopher’s footfalls on the stairs. “I think he’s coming.”

“Not yet he isn’t.”

“Grammy!”

“Good bye, sweetheart. Oh, and remember, he’ll protect you no matter what.”

“No matter what what?”

But Grammy didn’t answer. She’d already hung up the phone.

“And the award for most cryptic comment goes to Annabelle Evans.” Lana hung up the phone and wondered which door lead to the bathroom. There were three of them in this ultra-modern, masculine bedroom. The only feminine detail she could see was the ebony stained bed. It was a four-poster, with rails up top for soft gauzy curtains that Christopher hadn’t bothered to hang. The comforter was a dark teal, the sheets aqua. The walls were a darker gold than the kitchen, warming the room up. There were three doors, all closed. She had to assume the one across from the bed was the door that led out of the room. One of the others had to lead to the bathroom.

God, she hoped one of them led to the bathroom. She felt like she was about to explode.

* * *

“Bathroom!”

Christopher plastered himself up against the wall just in time. The naked nymph rushed by him, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Fuck. By the way, nice suit. Is it Armani?”

He manfully swallowed his laugh. “Yes, it is and it is. The master bath is through the other door.”

“Thanks!”

She opened the door and streaked past him, the jacket of his suit wrapped around her.

He turned, sighing in disappointment when she slammed into the correct room. He almost choked on the laugh at her groan of relief.

When she stepped back into the bedroom, he had himself under control. “Feeling better?” He turned, stopping when he caught sight of her. The charcoal gray jacket hung on her, covering her from neck to mid thigh, the vee of the jacket revealing the tempting swell of her breasts. “Good morning.”

She bit her lip. “Good morning.” One of her delicate toes dug into his carpet. “Where are my clothes?”

“Clothes?” The way she was digging her toe in the carpet had her knee pushing back and forth, back and forth, swinging open the bottom edge of the jacket ever so slightly.

Christopher could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth, the bare glimpse of thigh she kept giving him mesmerizing. If she didn’t stop soon, his cock was going to burst right out of his jeans.

“The things you put on your body when you aren’t wearing your fur?”

“Fur?” He could cover her in fur. He could see them now, naked, skin to skin, writhing on those furs while he took her over and over again.

She looked down at what he was staring at and squeaked. Her toe stopped digging into the carpet. Damn it. “Christopher!”

“Hmm?” He brought his eyes back up to her face. The amused exasperation there reassured him. He hadn’t frightened her with his lust.

Good.

“My clothes. Where are they?”

“They’re in the dryer.”

“May I have them please?”

No. “I’ll bring them up shortly.” He waved towards the table by the window.

“Breakfast?”

She eyed the table warily. “No woo-woo stuff in the coffee this morning?”

He didn’t allow his shock to show in his face. “Woo-woo stuff?”

She approached the table. “You put something in the chocolate last night, didn’t you?” Apparently he didn’t hide his wince well enough. She sat with a sigh. “You know if my Grammy hadn’t told me to trust my instincts you’d be in serious shit right now.”

Thank you Grandmother Evans. He’d have to write the woman an appropriate thank you note. Possibly after the wedding. “What are your instincts telling you?”

She studied him for a moment before picking up her coffee cup. “To trust you. Why, I have no clue, considering you drugged me last night.”

He sat across from her, loving the look of his jacket on her skin. He’d think of her now every time he wore that suit. “You can, you know. Trust me, I mean. And you needed some sleep last night. I was worried the flight through the woods would keep you awake all night.”

“Uh-huh.” Her skeptical look spoke volumes, but apparently she was willing to let it slide. “What exactly is going on, anyway?”

He thought about lying to her for exactly two seconds. He had one shot at this. There was no way he was going to fuck it up. And something told him that lying to her was not a good way to get his little witch to trust him. “Do you remember how I told you there was a price to pay for learning to live with the wolf?”

“Yes.” She took a bite of her eggs, sighing softly. “Mmm. You’re a very good cook, by the way.”

He actually blushed. That was the first time a woman had ever complimented him on his cooking. It meant more to him than any compliment he’d ever received before, mostly because she was the one who gave it.

She smiled softly. “Go on.”

He cleared his throat. He had the feeling he’d just handed her something he’d miss like hell one day. “Yes. Well, that price for learning to live with the wolf was taking mates.”

“Mates.”

He nodded.

“You mean more than one?”

“No!” Lord, don’t let her think that. I’m going to be in enough trouble from stuff I do, let alone stuff I don’t. “I meant that each Beckett in every generation casts a spell that pulls their perfect mate to them. We never know what fate is going to send us.” He kissed her knuckles, enjoying the soft flush that crept up her cheeks. “Fate sent me you.”

She put her fork down. “You’re essentially werewolves.”

He shrugged. He’d heard worse terms than that. “I suppose. That was the compromise the human made with the wolf. One mate, one forever mate that pleases us both.”

“Forever mate?”

He nodded. “Wolves mate for life.”

He loved watching the emotions that crossed her face in rapid succession. “Me?”

He grinned, knowing she’d see the hunger in it. The possession. Hell, the pride. She was taking this a great deal better than some of the Beckett women had.

Right up until she shrieked, that was. “No way!” She leapt from the table. “No fucking way!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to allow hurt to seep in. She barely knew him. She was entitled to a little rant. Still, what was wrong with him? “Why not?”