Then he was gone, and all that was left was the familiar coldness of sleeping alone.
Chapter Eight
'Happy Birthday, Jack.' Eryn raised her wine glass and clinked it lightly against his. 'How does it feel to be over the hill and fast approaching forty?'
'Old.' Amusement touched his blue eyes. 'And I'm still waiting for this goddess you reckon is out there. I think I'm about ready for a woman to call my bluff and enrich my world.'
She grinned. 'Maybe said goddess knows you're still not ready to settle down. Maybe she's right under your nose, and you're just not looking down.'
He raised an eyebrow, the amusement in his expression becoming decidedly sexy. 'The woman under my nose right now is one I'd willingly party with, only she keeps refusing my offers.'
'Because you're not really serious.'
'Aren't I?'
'No.' She took a sip of wine, then pointed with her glass at the redhead dancing with Bob. 'Amy's been known to throw a lustful look or two your way.'
'She's not serious, either. Trust me on that.'
'You've flirted?'
'I flirt with everyone. She ran away faster than most.'
Eryn grinned. 'Maybe she has deep feelings she's afraid to reveal.'
'I doubt it.' He took a sip of wine, then said, overly casual, 'So, how's your life been lately?'
She shrugged, feigning an indifference she didn't feel.
'Same old same old.' Back to working with boring old farts and wondering if her sex drive had upped and left.
It had been six months since she'd last seen Grey. Trust him, he'd said. Wait for him, he'd said. Well, she had, and she would, but the hope that she'd actually see him again was beginning to fade.
'You sure you don't want to come work with me?' Jack said. 'We really could use your nose on a permanent basis.'
'I'll think about it.'
'You will?' He raised his eyebrows. 'I've been nagging you for months—why the change of heart?'
'Maybe I'm tired of working with boring old farts.'
'Well, I've got the paperwork all written up. Just give me the word and you're mine.'
She grinned again. 'Jack, I will never be yours.'
His sigh was sorrowful—an effect spoiled by the cheeky gleam in his eyes. 'Ain't that a sad truth. You want to dance?'
'Nope. I might go out and get some fresh air. This room is feeling a little close.' Besides, she was feeling a little depressed. Or maybe even a little sorry for herself. And definitely a little angry at Grey for making promises and not keeping them.
She finished her drink in one gulp that had her head swimming, then made her way through the dancers and headed toward the backyard.
Outside, the warmth of the day still lingered, and the night was still and bright. She closed her eyes, raising her face to the silvery light of the full moon, feeling the power of it wash through her veins. Some shifters, and not all of them children, believed the full moon had the power to grant wishes. It wasn't something she believed in.
And the moon had certainly never granted any of her wishes.
She blew out a breath and opened her eyes. The music from the room behind her throbbed across the night, a rich sound reminding her of that first night in the bar, and the moment her gaze had met Grey's.
And once again, she experienced the sensations of that incredible moment. Her heart leapt to her throat, and her breathing stalled as the world around her seemed to fade into silence. Fierce desire surged, burning her skin, sending little beads of perspiration skittering across her flesh. And all she wanted to do was find him, press herself against him. Feel him on her, in her.
The memories were so strong, her reactions so fierce, that, for a moment, it was easy to believe that he was here, that the reactions were real rather than a response to memory.
But the night remained silent except for the music and the distant wash of sea against sand. The air was filled with the scent of the many wildflowers inhabiting Jack's untended lawn, as well as the mellow aroma of alcohol. Raw masculinity and thick desire—the only two scents she could classify as Grey's—weren't even a blip on the smell radar.
She crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping the extent of Jack's small yard. Suddenly, she felt too confined by boundaries. She needed to be alone, needed to run, needed to go… where?
The wash of water seemed to grow stronger. The sea. She needed to go see the sea. She didn't question the desire, just turned around and walked back into the house.
'Jack,' she shouted, once she'd spotted him. 'I'm going for a walk.'
He gave her a wave of acknowledgment. She grabbed her cardigan, just in case the wind was cooler down near the water, then, after wrapping it around her shoulders, she headed out.
The streets were silent, still. No surprise, considering it was nearly three in the morning. She smiled, enjoying the peace, letting it fill her, calm her, as she strolled toward the ocean.
The wind down near the sand was every bit as cold as she'd thought it was going to be. She stopped near the steps and leaned against the railing, watching the moonlight play among the waves, wishing Grey was here to enjoy it with her.
Damn it, why couldn't she stop thinking about him tonight?
'Perhaps because I don't intend to let you stop thinking about me,' he said, his voice so close it whispered heat past her ear. 'Not tonight, not ever.'
Her heart did a giddy little dance, and a gasp that was all joy escaped her lips. But as she tried to turn around and face him, he stopped her, his hands so warm, yet so unbelievably gentle on her arms.
'I don't know whether to kiss you silly for coming back,' she said, leaning back against him. His arms slid around her waist, holding her tight. She closed her eyes, and somehow found the strength to add, 'Or smack you senseless for the heartache you've caused me.'
'I'm sorry.' His lips brushed her ear, sending a flash fire of desire surging through every nerve ending. 'But I dared not risk seeing you again until I'd filled out the appropriate paperwork and had all the right approvals.'
'You're kidding?' She leaned her head back and met his gaze. His eyes were as bright and as silver as the moon.
Perhaps the moon had listened. Perhaps she'd bought him back to her.
'Not kidding,' he said, brushing his fingers down her cheek. She trembled, and his gaze darkened imperceptibly. 'I told you, the mob I work for is top secret and highly classified. Anyone I intend to see on a permanent basis has to be fully checked out.'
'And that took six months?'
'Bureaucracy.' He shrugged.
'So I'm approved?'
'Oh, yes.'
She smiled and raised a hand, hooking it around his neck.
'And what about this business of seeing me permanently—
don't you think I should have had a say in that before you cleared it with your people?'
'I believe,' he said softly, his smile evident in his voice, 'that we have already discussed the matter. You agreed to be mine.'
