She seemed undeterred by his attempt to change the subject. “Because if they have a lot of money, they might be planning an economic takeover. Or maybe they
“Steaks are done. Let’s eat.”
“Don’t think you can stop me from asking questions by keeping my mouth busy with food.”
Naturally that comment made him think of another way he could keep her mouth busy. He loaded the steaks on a platter and set it on the table. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“I’m just warning you it won’t work.” Straightening in her chair, she eyed him with defiance.
Just his luck, he found her attitude extremely sexy. “Then I’ll have to use more creative ways to shut you up.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He allowed himself a very slow, very male perusal of her body. “Use your imagination.”
Chapter 11
After all those nights of watching him skinny-dipping, she was more than primed for whatever he cared to dish out. Desire gripped her tight, warming her skin and dampening her panties. She wanted him bad.
Sure, he wasn’t quite who she’d imagined during those nights of spying on his naked-swimming routine. He had another, rather unusual, side to him. But she could ignore that aspect, because at this moment in time he was the built-for-sin man she’d admired through her binoculars.
She was more than willing to abandon the meal and have a close encounter right here on the deck, or up against the railing, or spinning on one of the swivel chairs surrounding the table. Nobody else was around except a few geese on the lake and the occasional fish leaping out of the water. They wouldn’t mind.
Jake’s gaze met hers and he swore softly. But instead of grabbing her and ripping her clothes off as she’d fantasized he might, he took a deep breath. “That’s some imagination you have.”
Her pulse raced. “You can read my mind?”
“Don’t have to. It’s all there in your eyes.” He groaned. “God, Rachel. I can’t . . . we can’t do this.”
“But you want me.” If his expression hadn’t told her so, the fit of his jeans would have.
“Yes. And that’s a problem.” He turned away. “I’ll get the rest of the food. Help yourself to a steak.” He disappeared into the house.
During the brief time Jake was gone, Rachel had a moment to decompress and think about what had just happened. She’d read enough in Duncan MacDowell’s book to know that for Weres, sex wasn’t the same as mating. She and Jake could have sex without making a lifetime commitment, and that seemed to be what he was morally against.
Yet he’d said wanting her was a problem for him. She’d have to ask him to explain, because she didn’t understand. She also wondered how long he’d been nurturing this case of lust. There was that telltale note of hers tucked inside a book with her picture in it. How ironic if he’d wanted her as long as she’d wanted him.
By the time he returned with the potatoes and carrots, she’d made up her mind. “There’s no way around it, Jake. You have to level with me.”
“I know.” He took the chair opposite hers but didn’t pick up his fork. “I decided the same thing while I was in the kitchen. Ultimately, I started the whole thing when I bought your carving. That was my first mistake.”
“Mistake?” She stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You inspired me to give up on becoming a vet so I could devote myself to my art. I don’t just owe you my life. I owe you my career!”
“No, you don’t. Someone else would have bought that carving. Then you would have them to thank. And we wouldn’t be in the middle of this big mess.”
“I don’t agree with that logic. Hearing your positive comments about the carving was as important as the sale, maybe more important. I was meant to be in that store when you walked in. You have no idea what a boost your comments gave me. In fact, I wrote you a note to that effect. You probably don’t remember, though.” She was a devil to mention it, but she couldn’t resist.
A dull red stain crept up the back of his neck. “I seem to remember a note.”
She didn’t push it. She didn’t want to embarrass him by pointing out his sentimentality. “I’m just saying that sale was a significant event that helped encourage me to become a full-time carver.”
“There would have been different inspirations. You’re very talented. You would have made it with or without that moment in Ted’s store. Now, eat your food before it gets cold.”
“You sound like my mother.”
He smiled. “No cook wants food to sit around after they’ve fixed it. Dig in.”
“But you promised to tell me everything.”
“I will.” He cut into his steak. “Between bites. It’s a long story, so I need to keep up my strength. And so do you.”
“Okay.” She sliced into her steak, which was grilled exactly as she liked it. She couldn’t resist glancing over at Jake’s, which was the same shade of pale pink inside. She thought that might be on purpose. “Now, start talking.”
He did, pausing sporadically to eat. He told her about his father, the actual wolf she’d photographed and immortalized in wood. He mentioned that his parents had died in a skiing accident but didn’t dwell on that part of the story. He did admit, though, that after buying her carving, he’d become fascinated with her and had fallen into the habit of late-night runs over to her place.
Which explained why he’d kept her note. She finished her last bite and put down her fork. “Are you saying that we wasted three years when we could have been . . .” She trailed off, not sure what the relationship might have developed into.
He shook his head as he finished chewing and swallowed. “No, we couldn’t, not without me becoming a hypocrite.”
“How’s that?”
“Think about it. The obvious way to halt Were-human mating is to end Were-human sexual encounters. If a Were never has sex with a human, he or she won’t be tempted to consider mating with one.”
“So you’ve never had sex with a human?”
“Nope.” He picked up his ale and took a drink.
Because she was watching him very closely, she noticed that his hand quivered ever so slightly.
“Ever been tempted?”
He set down the bottle and glanced at her. “You mean, other than you?”
“Right.”
“Maybe a little, but I could always shrug it off.” He looked out over the lake. “If I hadn’t bought that carving, I might have been okay. But you put a part of yourself in that piece, and I felt it drawing me. That’s why I had to get rid of it.”
“You make it sound like the carving’s possessed.”
“It is.” He gave her a half smile. “By you.”
“Jake, I’ve sold carvings to lots of people, including many single guys. Not one of them has insinuated that my work makes them want to take me to bed.”
“Maybe they’re more polite and civilized than I am. It might affect them that way, but they don’t want to offend you.” He leaned both elbows on the table. “None of your clients have propositioned you, though?”
“No. Partly because I never give them the chance.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. You don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”
“Actually, I’d be happy to mix business with pleasure, but none of my clients have appealed to me in that way.”
“So who have you been dating?”
