A Werewolf for Christmas

Praise for the writing of Sedonia Guillone

Lady of Two Lairds

This is a story that I would definitely recommend to lovers of historical romance. -- Francesca Hayne, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Lady of Two Lairds is one of those stories that will tear at your heartstrings from the beginning… There are a number of wonderfully poignant love scenes throughout the book. Most will leave you breathless and longing for relief. This is a very good book that deserves to be put on your keeper shelf. -- Oleta M Blaylock, Just Erotic Romance Reviews Sedonia Guillone’s Lady of Two Lairds is a fascinating trip back in time with characters you’ll remember long after you’ve finished reading the book. -- Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies Sedonia Guillone gives a story with enough real life joys and sorrows that any reader will be hooked. This triangle love story will make you believe that love isn’t always about just two people, sometimes a third makes the bonds of love stronger. The struggles that these people go through make the book a hit. -- Stacie Burroughs, The Romance Studio This is Sedonia Guillone at her best! Lady of Two Lairds is such a touching story. The love flows between these three who learn the true meaning of love through sacrifice, forgiveness, and sharing. -- Holly, Euro-Reviews

Lady of Two Lairds is now available from Loose Id.

A WEREWOLF FOR CHRISTMAS

Sedonia Guillone

www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

***** This book is rated:

For explicit sexual content, graphic language, and some violence.

A Werewolf for Christmas Sedonia Guillone This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © December 2005 by Sedonia Guillone All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 1-59632-206-3 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Ansley Velarde & Karen W. Williams Cover Artist: April Martinez

www.loose-id.com

Chapter One

Farmington, northern Maine

Luke ran like the hounds of hell were chasing him. Because they were. He’d been pawing through the snow, hot on the trail of a nice, juicy caribou buck when the howl rang through the woods. That eerie, bloodcurdling sound belonged to only one -- Carrick Regan, the bloody bastard who’d cheated him out of his alpha position, stolen Jaynie from him, and left him crippled.

Bloody sick bastard! Luke cursed Carrick silently as he ran through the frozen woods as fast as his three good legs and one injured leg could carry him. He should have known the sadistic bastard would do this. Never one to leave good enough alone, Carrick had let him go off to lick his wounds and gave him enough time to think he’d left off the chase. Now, after three long years, when Luke had finally pulled together a semblance of a life again, Carrick had traced him here to the sticks in northern Maine. Carrick’s scent carried through the cold air. Luke could hear Carrick’s goons, Blaine and Rutger, howling, one after the other. Those two tossers had helped Carrick turn the pack against him three years ago.

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The snow had begun to fall heavily, the packed clouds blocking the light of the moon. In spite of the low visibility, Luke knew very well the path he’d run so many times in the couple of months since he’d moved onto his property. The edge of the forest that abutted his field soon came into view. The snow was a couple of feet high in the field and he labored to bound through the drifts, his front paws sinking heavily into the fresh, powdery snowfall. Finally he reached his back door, slipping through the pet door he’d installed when he bought the old Victorian house. Without stopping, he trotted into the downstairs bathroom and climbed into the tubful of water he’d prepared before the change. The warm water would break his scent. All the lights in the house were off, making it difficult to see the house in the inky blackness of the storm. Submerging his furry body in the warm water, he let a bit of tension run out of him. His fangs and claws were already receding, as was the thick coating of fur covering his body. He rested his head against the side of the tub, preparing himself. The change of the internal organs was also painful, metamorphosing from beast to Homo sapiens. He suppressed a howl as his bodily systems clenched under the strain of the change. He’d forever curse the woman who’d bitten him fifteen years ago and made him what he was. He’d loved her and she had betrayed him horribly. Now he was stuck. Who the hell wanted to go through this every time he got hungry, which was everyday. The complete change only took about half an hour, but tonight seemed interminable. When he was finally able to turn over and recline with his back against the tub, he closed his eyes, feeling his unsatisfied hunger rumble in his belly. Unfortunately, he’d heard Carrick’s howl before finishing his hunt. Leave it to his stomach to demand satisfaction even when someone was after him with intent to murder. God, there were times he felt so damn alone. Until three years ago, he’d thought he had Jaynie. He should have seen the signs when she kept after him to give up his painting.

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Apparently she thought that alpha and artist were mutually exclusive and came to prefer criminally insane, megalomaniacal gamma wolves. She’d been the one who’d slipped the drugs into his drink that night, rendering him unable to defend himself when Carrick took the baseball bat to his legs. Instead of taking the risk of falling in with the wrong pack again, Luke had preferred to remain alone, finally making his way up here to northern Maine, about as far as a man could go for solitude. Besides, Carrick hated the cold and he’d been certain the bastard wouldn’t want to follow him here. He was wrong. Now, Luke was finding he’d had a bit too much solitude. There were times a man needed someone to help him, someone to offer a warm refuge from the cold. His meals at the diner, being waited on by that pretty young waitress named Kristin, were the most company he allowed himself. It wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed a place to hide. He needed someone to turn to. His soul ached to find his mate, his real mate, not a poser bitch who’d turn on him, mistaking the artistic side of him as a sign of weakness. To his surprise, Kristin came to mind. The strong urge to run to her overwhelmed him, nearly propelling him out of the tub. He raked the fingers of one hand through his damp hair. No. Out of the question. He couldn’t endanger her like that. What if Carrick found him? Then again, he couldn’t stay in this house tonight. Carrick and his wankers were too close. He had to go somewhere. He had to take a chance, knowing he’d be as careful as possible. Luke washed quickly, stepped out of the tub without bothering to take the time to pull the drain. He rubbed the towel quickly over himself, throwing on a sweater and jeans over his damp skin. Without bothering to tie his hair back, he shrugged into his parka, grabbed

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the keys of his truck off the kitchen counter and went out, knowing exactly where he needed to go.

***** “Merry Christmas, my ass.” Kristin caught herself beginning to mumble out loud again as she wiped down the counter. Her eye had fallen on the mistletoe that Al, the owner of The Blue Light Diner, had hung above the entrance the other day. He’d looked directly at her and waggled his bushy gray eyebrows. “Hey there, little girl, come on over here and let me make your day.” Kristin had laughed in the midst of pouring a coffee refill. “Better be careful there, Al, you’re gonna have the customers trying to escape out the back door.” Thankfully, Al had a good sense of humor and had laughed off her teasing. After all, he’d known her most of her life. Everyone knew everyone else in a town the size of a postage stamp. Well, except for that new guy, the one who’d bought the old Farmer estate. No one knew anything about Luke Ashton. Maybe it was that bad limp he had that made him selfconscious about getting to know anyone. That could make a person prefer to keep to himself mostly, Kristin supposed. He did, however, eat here just about every day. Maybe he hated to cook. Just as well. Luke Ashton was gorgeous and she enjoyed having a little bit of time each day to look at him. The sight of him made her sizzle in areas that hadn’t got any use since Dave dumped her ... She shook off that useless train of thought and turned back to reflecting on Luke Ashton. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been in yet. Well, even loners sometimes had somewhere else to be on the holidays. Funny, a distinct pang of disappointment passed through her. Until now, she hadn’t realized that waiting on him had become something she

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looked forward to, even though they barely passed any words between them except for his order, which was always the same thing. Hamburger, rare. And sometimes more than one. Kristin tore her gaze from the mistletoe, hating the ache in her heart stirred by the sight of the little plant hanging innocently above the doorway. It served only as a painful reminder that she’d once had someone to kiss her. That is, until he’d turned around and told her he didn’t love her anymore, that maybe he never had. She should have had a clue her man-picker was broken when Dave began staying at work later and later, finally not even bothering to call and let her know. She’d spent a lot of time wondering what she’d done to make him fall out of love with her and came to the conclusion that she was simply unlovable to men. After all, her own father had left her mother for someone else. So why wouldn’t Dave have done the same thing? She shivered and set about to refilling the salt and pepper shakers. Sure, what else does a young woman who’d just passed her twenty-seventh birthday do on Christmas Eve when she’s run back to her hometown after being dumped? The place was small and easy for one person to handle, grill and all, especially when there were no customers. But Al liked to keep the place open on Christmas Eve for the occasional stranded motorist and Farmington was the kind of safe place a person could do that kind of thing. Besides, she only lived in the building right next door, so it wasn’t exactly a commute. And, at least it kept her busy and not sitting in front of the television set watching It’s A Wonderful Life or A Christmas Carol for the seven hundredth time in her life. Something about that damned mistletoe kept drawing her gaze, as if her eyeballs had magnets in them and so did that little sprig. She sighed. Perhaps it was the season. Christmas had always evoked in her a renewed sense of hope and faith in life, causing her mind to wander back into her girlhood longings for a soul mate. She knew it wasn’t likely that she’d find him, if he even existed, but keeping the flame of hope alive made life much more livable than falling into cynicism. People who did that were very difficult to be around, like her

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mother for instance. Which is why Kristin didn’t go back to her mother’s house in the suburbs outside Boston and came here instead. Well, that, and the fact that Farmington, Maine was a much more effective place in which to isolate. She sighed again and put her attention back onto the saltshaker just as the howling began in the distance. Kristin jumped up and went to throw the lock on the entrance door of the diner. If anyone needed to come in she’d unlock it, but for now, that unearthly sound raised her gooseflesh and set her heart to pounding. When wolves had returned to the woods in this part of Maine, no one in town could figure out. Folks around here were more used to the coyotes that ran in these parts. But the creature that had been howling these last couple of months was a full-blown wolf. And tonight it sounded like he had friends. They didn’t seem to bother people, but still, that howl, a plaintive sound that rang through the night, penetrating the thick sheets of snow falling tonight, reverberated through her and made her afraid. Returning to her work, Kristin noticed she’d spilled some salt onto the counter in her haste to lock the door. She took a pinch of salt and threw it over her left shoulder, feeling foolish at the same time. Something about those howling wolves had churned up superstitions in her she hadn’t known she held. Normally, she didn’t give much credence to such things. She didn’t even bother to walk around ladders, and such. But minding the diner alone even in a safe town like Farmington made her feel the need for a little more protection. And that howling. Something about it was otherworldly ... She kind of wished Al were here too. Even though he flirted with her good-naturedly, he was a good friend and treated her mostly like a daughter. He usually minded the diner on Christmas Eve, being unattached, himself. But he’d taken a spill off a stepladder while putting a star on his own Christmas tree. So tonight he was the one propped in front of the TV set watching Ebenezer Scrooge and his ghosts. Feeling suddenly more alone, Kristin set the jukebox to play a continuous roll of Christmas tunes. Al had showed her how to set up a program of songs without having to put

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in quarters. “Let It Snow” began to play immediately, the familiar melody bringing a small measure of comfort. She took a small break before refilling sugar packets on the holders in the tables. She poured a mug of coffee and sat at the counter, staring down at the romance novel she was reading. Her mother would shake her head at her daughter’s choice of reading material. Well, her mother felt she was wasting her time and talents working in this place. After all, she’d gotten her degree in French language and literature and should have been teaching in a university, not slinging burgers. But Kristin didn’t agree. The woman had always been kind of snooty, and Kristin realized later she’d only done the course of study she had to please her. Well, it hadn’t worked. Margaret Havers managed to find fault with everything she did. Besides Kristin liked the steady work. Al was a good employer, and she knew practically everyone who came in. Besides, her work gave her more time to work on her writing, which was what she really wanted to do. The words on the page blurred and Kristin’s mind strayed again to thoughts of Luke Ashton. She found herself wondering again if he, too, was having a solitary Christmas. He certainly seemed to spend a lot of time alone. Curiosity nagged at her. She wanted to know more about the man aside from the things she’d gleaned from watching him. She found herself studying him with a Sherlock Holmes type of analysis. For example, she was pretty certain he was an artist of some sort, a painter most likely because of the colors staining his fingers. He obviously did some sort of vigorous physical exercise because his physique looked powerful, sinewy muscles straining against the stretchy material of the clothing he wore. He spoke with the same type of English accent as the Beatles, which meant he was probably from Yorkshire, and he always seemed afraid that he was being watched or followed, judging by the constant looking over his shoulder he did constantly. Oh yeah, and the last thing; he also wolfed down a large quantity of rare

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hamburgers and then left as if he were in a terrible hurry, leaving her a generous tip each time. No, that wasn’t all. There was one other thing Kristin knew about Luke Ashton. He was one of the best-looking guys in the state of Maine. His eyes were incredible, unlike any eyes she’d ever seen before. They were a cool gray-blue that made her feel he could see inside her, like he knew all her thoughts and feelings. He wore his dark blond hair in a shoulder-length mane tied at the nape of his neck. Then there were those lips, soft and full, yet devastatingly masculine, set off by high cheekbones and an angular jaw. Kristin shook herself from her reverie and shot a withering glare at the sprig of mistletoe, as if it had been the cause of her desirous, wayward musings. She huffed and took a warming sip of coffee. Another howl sounded in the distance. She shivered and got up to pull down the shades of the diner windows. Shutting out the midnight blackness and pelting snowstorm outside made the diner feel much cozier and safer. She sat back on her stool and took another sip of coffee. In the background, Nat King Cole crooned a classic version of “The Little Drummer Boy.”

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Chapter Two

Luke pulled off of Main Street and immediately cut his headlights. He didn’t need to worry about causing an accident. The only other vehicle on the roads at this hour was the snowplow, which had already done its work on this street and passed on. He pulled in behind Schoppee’s Garage and switched off the ignition. Around the corner, the lights from the Blue Light Diner glowed through the heavy snowfall. Nothing could have looked more like a beacon in the darkness to him than that. When he’d passed by the front a moment ago, he’d seen the shades had been pulled down, but thankfully, the sign said Open. He also knew Kristin was working tonight. He’d overheard her telling another customer the day before that she was watching the place on Christmas Eve for Al, who’d hurt his leg. Before getting out of the truck, he sat an extra moment, listening for any signs of Carrick’s pursuit. He didn’t know if the bloody bastard had caught his scent back in the woods, but the likelihood was strong, considering the howling he’d heard. The reminder of his alter ego caused his stomach to lurch. The beast needed to be fed, or he would change again. Here in the middle of Main Street, there was no tub of hot water in which to immerse himself and stop the process. He thought that if he could keep his other

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half at bay through feeding his hunger, maybe his chance of hiding from Carrick would be stronger. In human form, he didn’t give off as strong a scent and he could buy time to think of a way to get rid of them. Luke put his hand on the door handle, his heart pumping now like it had when he’d run from his pursuers in the woods. It had been forever since he’d asked someone for help. Now he was about to ask a perfect stranger. Well, not a complete stranger. He’d stopped into the diner six weeks ago after first buying the Farmer property. Her nametag said Kristin, and the sight of her flaxen hair hanging in a long ponytail down her back, the soft blue eyes, and kind smile had kept him coming back every day for the last six weeks. During that time, he’d become well acquainted with her scent. Each time they made eye contact she gave off a powerful blend of pheromones mixed with the musky scent of woman. He knew that unmistakable aroma came from the intimate crevice between her thighs. Her physiological responses to him were strong -- much stronger than Jaynie’s had ever been. His response to Kristin was mutual, even though he worked very hard to hide it from her. Each whiff of her pungent femaleness, mixed with the sweetness in her eyes and smile caused his cock to bulge tightly in his jeans. The urge to mate with her was overpowering, and he always high-tailed it out of the diner before he lost control. Now, he could only hope that her desire to help him would equal her desire to give him her body. Quietly, he opened the driver’s side door to his truck, slipped out, and pushed it shut, taking care to make as little sound as possible. Looking all around him with each step he took, he went around to the front of the diner. The door was locked when he tried it, but the lights were still burning and Christmas music emanated from inside. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his hand and rapped loudly on the glass.

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***** Kristin had just finished buttoning her coat when someone knocked on the door. At one-thirty, Al had called her and told her to go home. She looked up, catching her breath when she recognized Luke Ashton peering through the glass, a hopeful expression in his pale, blue-gray eyes. She hurried over to the door, unlocked it and held it open for him. “Thank you,” he said breathlessly, stamping the snow from his leather boots on the front mat. A whoosh of cold air followed behind him, and Kristin immediately noticed he wasn’t properly dressed against the cold, save for his coat. Snow clung to his dark blond mane and eyelashes. Kristin locked the door behind him. “Good timing,” she said. “Another minute and I’d have turned the lights off. Al told me to close up.” She looked at him again, immediately catching the worry in his eyes. He usually appeared to be worried, but tonight, a cloud of tension clearly surrounded him. “Hey, are you all right?” He stared at her a moment, appearing to be locked in some inner struggle. She sensed that something was terribly wrong and wanted nothing more in that moment than to help him. “Look, Mr. Ashton --” “Luke.” “Um ... Luke. Don’t answer. It’s all right.” She watched him for a moment, collecting her thoughts. He made her nervous simply because she was so attracted to him. In the next moment, she suddenly knew what to do. “Um, well, the grill is off and cleaned up, but I know what you’d have ordered. Follow me, okay?” He nodded, seeming relieved.

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Her heart pounding, she went and flicked off the jukebox then motioned for Luke to follow her behind the counter and into the kitchen. What she was about to do felt reckless. After all, she didn’t know this guy. Her mother would be scolding her right and left. But somehow, she sensed he was a good person, just someone who needed help. Moreover, she felt very alone and had been really happy -- happier than she would have thought -- to see him standing there at the door to the diner. They passed through the quiet kitchen where Al kept the stainless steel worktable and cooking implements gleaming. “Now you know how really clean Al’s kitchen is back here. He runs a tight ship. In case you were wondering.” She giggled, knowing she sounded nervous, but chattered to keep her sudden flare of nerves at bay. “Very clean,” he said quietly. She went to the freezer and grabbed a box of beef patties off a shelf. “Do they have diners where you’re from? England, right?” She went to the pantry and snatched a bag of hamburger buns, silently promising Al to replace everything she was taking. “That’s right. Yorkshire. You’re very observant.” She emerged from the pantry and smiled at him before flicking off all the lights, save for the colorful strings of Christmas lights strung around the windows. Those served to light their way to the back door. “I watch a lot of Masterpiece Theatre. Unless you have cable, all you get around here is public television. That, and a couple of Canadian stations.” Feeling like a babbling idiot, she silently yelled at herself to shut up. He chuckled. “Well, we have diners, of sorts.” “Come,” she told him. “We’ll go out the back.” She locked the door behind them and turned, noticing the little parking lot was empty except for her car, which Al let her keep there all the time. She knew that Luke drove a black pickup and didn’t see it. The snow still fell heavily and a thick shroud of it covered the sidewalks. She couldn’t imagine him walking the five miles between the Farmer place and town in this storm.

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Furrowing her brow, she looked at him. “Did you walk here?” He shook his head. “No. I parked behind Schoppee’s. The way had already been plowed.” He looked at her. “May I carry those things for you? I see, after all, they’re for me.” He reached out and gently took the food from her before she could refuse. His fingertips brushed her hand, sending warmth to her skin right through her rag wool glove. “You don’t have to do this. I didn’t mean to put you to any trouble.” A blush of warmth stole into her cheeks. “It’s all right. I want to.” He smiled and she noticed his ruggedly handsome features relaxing. “Very well then. Thank you.” She returned his smile, feeling as nervous as she did when she had her first crush as a teenager, then started down the steps. With Luke following her, they trudged through the snowy parking lot toward her apartment above the Farmington Five and Dime.

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Chapter Three

“Here we are.” Kristin opened the door of her apartment and held it open for him. He limped over the threshold into a small living area, dark but for the gentle glow of lights from a small Christmas tree by the window. “It’s a little small.” She sounded apologetic as she took the food from him and set it down on a small, round wooden table set with four chairs. She picked up a couple of magazines off the sofa cushions and piled them onto a Mission-style coffee table. He shrugged out of his parka, continuing to peruse the small room. Braided rugs covered the hardwood floors and art posters covered the stuccoed walls. The place was simple and modest, but spotlessly neat and warm. Her womanly scent permeated the place, surrounding him with a sense of feminine nurturing. To him it was a haven. “It’s wonderful,” he said. “Very cozy. I’m glad to be here.” Her eyes widened as if he’d told her she’d just been made Queen of England. “Thank you,” she said in a breathless voice. She cleared her throat. “Um ... I’ll take your coat.” Wordlessly he handed it to her and watched her hang both their coats on wall pegs by the front door. She slipped off her boots, setting them on a mat. He did the same, his gaze

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remaining on her as she crossed the small room, retrieved the food from the table and turned to him. “Make yourself at home and I’ll get these ready for you.” “You’re very kind, Kristin.” A shy expression covered her pretty face. She smiled and disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen. Strangely, her sudden absence, even though she was only in the next room, made him want to follow her. She exuded a quiet strength that calmed him. He also liked looking at her and always watched her surreptitiously when she waited on customers. She moved with a fluid grace that suggested sweet curves and swells of creamy flesh under her heavy sweater and jeans. He sat down on the sofa, struggling inwardly to put the beast inside him on hold. It wouldn’t do to change into a werewolf right in front of her. He diverted his attention by picking up one of the magazines on the coffee table and thumbing through it. In the next room, he heard her moving around, opening cabinets, pouring water, and soon the sounds and smells of meat cooking and coffee brewing filled the small apartment. He flipped the pages of the magazine, discovering that it was a trade journal for fiction writers and poets. Immediately he began to wonder what she’d written. For that matter, he wanted to know everything about her, his sudden hunger for emotional intimacy rivaling the hunger in his belly and loins. Roughly ten minutes later, Kristin emerged from the kitchen, bearing a plate of hamburgers and a steaming mug of coffee. The sight and smell of meat aggravated the emptiness in his belly, and he fought to restrain himself from attacking it and wolfing it down without a word. He closed the magazine, set it aside, and went to the table. “I’ll get you some ketchup,” Kristin told him, turning toward the kitchen.

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“No need. This is great.” He sat down. “I can’t thank you enough.” In the light from the kitchen, he could see color bloom in her cheeks. The lights from the Christmas tree also reflected on her pale skin and golden hair. He sensed how eager she was to please him, and he liked her all the more. He began to feel a little less alone. “Please join me, Kristin.” She looked hesitant, as if being invited to sit at a table with a man was something to which she was completely unaccustomed. “I ate a little while ago, actually. But I’ll have some coffee. Be right back.” Luke nodded and picked up the first of the four burgers she’d served him, wolfing it down in the time it took her to go into the kitchen, pour a mug of coffee with cream and come back out. Her already large blue eyes widened when she saw his plate. As she took her seat, he felt her desire rise to ask him why he was so starved. She seemed to decide the better of it and remained quiet. His heart lurched suddenly as he realized how intimately tuned in to his emotional state she was. This was unlike the usual attentiveness he observed when she waited on customers at the diner. Here, at the table, he felt her determination to allow him his privacy. He’d seen this connection happen to other werewolves in only one circumstance: when they’d found their mate. Struggling to conceal his emotional turmoil at this discovery, he bit into the second burger, more slowly this time. In spite of his gnawing hunger, he didn’t want her to think he was an animal. Even though he was. He chewed and swallowed, setting the burger down, then wiped his mouth, feeling apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he said, after washing the food down with a swallow of coffee. “I’m being rude. I haven’t had a chance to eat.” He trailed off at what sounded like a lame excuse. Kristin smiled. “Not at all. Please.”

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He took another sip of coffee. “What do you write?” The question sounded sudden, and he berated himself silently for having lost all manners while living as a fugitive. Again, Kristin looked startled, as if his interest was not something she was used to. “How did you ...? Oh, the magazine.” Another shy smile curved her soft lips and color bloomed in her pale cheeks. “Romance.” “Really? That’s very nice.” She avoided his gaze, looking as if she were trying to decide whether to believe him. “I haven’t gotten published yet, but I recently finished a manuscript I’ve been sending out. I’m waiting to hear back.” “I’m impressed, Kristin, really. I wish you all the luck in the world.” Her gaze shot up, her expression incredulous. “Really? Most people don’t ... they don’t think that romance is worth writing.” He shook his head. “They’re fools, then. I don’t think that. It takes guts to send your work in for someone else to look at.” Being an artist, he understood the process. “Thank you.” She sipped her coffee and set the mug down. “What do you paint, Luke, if I may ask?” Now he saw it was his turn to be surprised. He looked at her. She’d never been to his home. How could she have seen his canvases? She chuckled. “You’re wondering how I know.” She lifted her hand and pointed. “Paint. On your hands. I see it every time you come in.” He smiled, liking her more with each passing second. “You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?” Her shy smile captivated him. “Perhaps,” she said softly. “I’ve read enough of the stories to qualify.” “Well, I paint whatever is inside me. I stand in front of the canvas, get quiet inside, and just start painting.”

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Kristin’s eyes widened to blue saucers. “Wow! You must come up with such interesting things!” Her enthusiasm stirred his heart. No one had ever shown particular interest in the way he worked. “Yes. Interesting is one word for them. I often end up painting over some of them.” “Oh. Do you think ... I could see them?” At her question, his heart fell. Just the day before, he would gladly have brought her to his home. But now that Carrick had found him ...

***** “Forgive me.” Kristin’s cheeks burned mercilessly and she wished she could kick herself in the ass, literally. “Listen to me, inviting myself to your house. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” Just because he had showed up at the diner in the middle of a snowstorm didn’t mean he wanted to show her his artwork! His blue-gray eyes softened, reflecting the glow of the Christmas lights. The light shadow of beard on his jaw made his face even more rugged. Why would she think a man this handsome would want her around? “There’s nothing to forgive, Kristin. I’d like nothing more than to show you my work. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve met in a long time.” His eyes darkened. “I just can’t right now.” He fell silent and went back to eating. Kristin nodded and sipped her coffee. She had trouble believing that she was the kindest person he’d met in a long time, as he put it. However, in a town this small, he was a newcomer and would turn to the person he believed would be most likely to help him. He’d spent too much time alone. He craved comfort, company, a safe haven from whatever was chasing him.

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A jolt of nerves nearly sent her jumping from her seat. How did she know all that? He hadn’t said a word! Yet, she knew his motivations for coming to her as if he’d actually told her, as if they were deeply connected on a psychic plane. Or, as if someone had given her a cosmic window into Luke’s heart and mind. Watching him now, she also sensed that he needed to finish eating. He was feeding, rather than simply enjoying a meal. She knew he was trying not to wolf his food down in front of her and wished to spare him any embarrassment. Draining the last sip of coffee from her mug, she stood up. “You go ahead and finish. I’ll clean up.” He nodded, a sheepish expression in his eyes. She carried her mug into the kitchen and busied herself filling the sink with warm soapy water. She couldn’t see him because the wall hid the corner of the table where he sat. Moments later, she was cleaning the grease off the stovetop when she got the distinct feeling of being watched. Looking up, she saw Luke standing there, holding his empty plate and mug. His brawny frame filled the doorway, his blue-gray gaze trained on her intently. “Thank you again, Kristin,” he said softly. “I can’t tell you how much that meal alone helped me.” The sincerity in his voice sent tingling warmth through her, erasing all the awkwardness of the previous conversation. She smiled. “You’re very welcome.” She took the plate and mug from him, their fingertips touching as she did so. A flash of heated desire coursed suddenly through her and she nearly dropped the plate from the intensity. Something was happening to her ... between her and this gorgeous, strange man. Never before had she sensed such a vital connection to anyone. She set the plate and mug in the sink, all the time feeling his heated gaze on her. The warmth of it penetrated the layers of winter clothes she wore, caressing her skin. Her entire

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body trembled and she left the dishes in the sink, knowing they’d slip from her hands if she tried to wash them. She dried her hands on the dishtowel and turned to him. Luke still watched her, his eyes smoldering with a poignant blend of sadness and what she hoped was desire. Dave had never looked at her this way in their two years together, as if he wanted to be alone with her in the world. No man had. Until now ... “Luke, do you need anything else?” She didn’t know what else to say. The way he was watching her, with that potent mixture of fire, tenderness and need, stole all her thoughts and words. A tiny muscle in his jaw twitched and the blue-gray color of his eyes darkened visibly. He nodded. “I do, Kristin. Very much so.” His voice was low, husky. A tremor coursed through her, causing her heart to pound fiercely. “What is it?” She ached with desire that almost robbed her of speech. He took a step toward her. “I need to lose myself in your sweetness.” Her breath caught sharply. Never before had anyone said such a thing to her. The words caused her blood to swirl icy-hot in her veins. Her pussy throbbed with need. She wanted nothing else but for Luke to fill her, surround her with rugged maleness. She wanted him to possess her, make her his and his alone. Desire weakened her body weakened so much, she had to support herself with a hand on the counter. “Luke ...” Luke took another step toward her. “Is it all right?” His voice rasped, thick with the lust that simmered between them in the tiny kitchen. Her gaze flickered over his body, from the chest muscles outlined underneath his sweater to the bulge tenting the front of his jeans. Unable to speak, she nodded. No sooner had she done so, than Luke took the final step, which brought him to her. His eyes, glazed with desire, caressed her face and then traveled down her body, as if he were imagining what she looked like under her clothes. Wordlessly, he took hold of the bottom of her sweater, lifting it until Kristin had to raise her arms.

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The movement pulled her shirt out from the waist of her jeans, and it peeled off along with her sweater. Luke lifted both away from her and tossed them onto the counter, leaving her only in her cotton camisole and jeans. She watched his eyes widen, hungrily taking in the sight of her bare arms and shoulders and the small expanse of pale flesh where the neckline of her camisole scooped to just above her breasts. She didn’t wear a bra in winter under so many layers of clothes, so her nipples, hardened peaks of arousal, tented the soft material, aching for his touch. Luke’s gaze lowered to the taut buds. He raised his hand to them, brushing trembling fingertips back and forth over each one. His touch caused her nipples to tingle and send invisible cords of heat traveling into the moist depths of her already swollen pussy. A soft growl emanated from his throat, and his hand closed gently around her right breast, squeezing the aching orb of flesh sensuously. “Kristin,” he breathed, “I want you so badly.” Kristin’s eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head back, moaning softly. It had been so long since she’d known a man’s touch, and Luke’s hungry yet passionate exploration was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Luke’s hand lifted from her breast and she opened her eyes in time to see him removing his sweater and shirt. He dropped them to the floor, revealing a broad chest with swirls of dark blond hair that tapered in a line down his tight stomach and disappeared into his jeans. Kristin caught her breath. On impulse, she reached out, resting the palms of both hands on his heaving chest. The hard slopes of muscle quivered under her touch and he reached out, pulling her close against him. His fingertips slipped under her camisole, exploring her bare skin as she did the same to him. Hard ridges of muscle flexed under her fingertips, his bare skin masculine and warm.

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His male scent, musky and wild, filled her nostrils and she pressed her lips to his chest, delighting in the salty skin and crisp hair under her lips and tongue. Another sexy growl issued deep in Luke’s throat and Kristin felt the vibration of it under her hands. She couldn’t believe he was experiencing such intense desire and pleasure simply from her touch and reveled in the feminine power it gave her. Gently, she squeezed his hard pectoral muscles just before he bowed his head and pressed warm, hungry lips to the side of her neck. Luke feathered the tip of his tongue over the sensitive skin, heightening her already flaming arousal. She moaned softly, tilting her head back to give him access to her throat, which he showered with moist, hot kisses. Her hands slid down his warm skin, her fingertips vividly aware of the landscape of chiseled muscle, and came to rest on the sides of his slim waist. Luke’s hands skated down her back and took hold of her camisole. The thin, stretchy material brushed her nipples as he lifted it up. Again she raised her arms and felt her breasts being exposed as he pulled the camisole away and dropped it onto the pile of her clothes on the counter. His already smoldering eyes widened when he looked on her bare breasts. “Kristin, you’re so beautiful.” She looked up at him, torn between feeling unbelievably flattered and abashed. “Thank you,” she whispered. She trembled under his appreciative gaze. Luke cupped one breast, tenderly brushing his thumb across the nipple. The rosy peak tingled fiercely and she sucked in her breath at the sheer pleasure, instinctively arching her back to push her breast deeper into his hand. “Mmm,” he murmured against her skin. He pressed a trail of sensuous kisses down her throat to the base of her neck, tracing her collarbone with the tip of his tongue.

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Kristin laced the fingers of both hands into his dark blond mane, following the movement of his head downward over her chest to her breasts. He didn’t stop until his mouth closed over her nipple, gently tugging it with his lips and tongue. The hot moisture and friction on the erect tip sent darts of heat shooting through her entire body. She moaned again, whispering his name, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. He feasted for a long time on both her breasts before lifting his face and looking down at her, his broad chest heaving, his features darkly flushed. Without speaking, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her, pressing her back firmly against the wall. Desire blazed in his blue-gray eyes. His gaze dropped to her lips and her eyes closed again as he lowered his face to hers, claiming her mouth with his. Cradling her head with one hand, he deepened the kiss. A murmured sigh escaped her throat, vibrating in their joined mouths. Her body weakened, sagging back against the wall, melting open. She supported herself with her palms on the wall while Luke pressed his erection against her pelvic bone. Back and forth he rubbed against her, dipping down in tiny movements to push the delicious bulge into the vee of her thighs. The erotic motion made her dizzy with need. Her hands went to the waist of his jeans, fumbling with the button and fly. She slipped her hand inside and let out a small gasp when her fingertips brushed right up against the velvety skin of his hard cock, which twitched at the contact. He wasn’t wearing any underwear or boxers, not even long johns against the cold. Luke groaned into her mouth and pushed against her, his hands going to her jeans and working open the belt and buttons. He gently but firmly stripped her of her long underwear and jeans His gaze raked over her naked body, starkly illuminated in the kitchen light.

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She felt bare and open, her chest heaving, her sex throbbing and slick with her juices.

I’m yours, she thought, not daring to say the words out loud. Luke’s breath caught audibly in his throat, almost as if he’d heart her thought and he dropped to his knees. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her thatch of blonde curls. Kristin gasped at the intimate contact. Dave had never done this to her and she felt her cheeks burn. She closed her eyes as Luke opened her pussy lips with gentle thumbs. She gasped again at the flicker of his tongue on her clit. The motion was tentative at first and sent darts of heat through her pussy. That low, erotic growl sounded again, and he slid his hands to her hips, pushing his mouth deeply into her open sex. A soft cry escaped her throat and she tilted her head back, forgetting her embarrassment. Nothing had ever felt so incredible. His tongue, hot and moist, stroked her clit. He feasted on her sex as voraciously as he had eaten the food she made him, his hands pulling on her hips, bringing her open slit more firmly onto his mouth. The sensations were so intense she could not hold back, and in moments a thundering orgasm erupted, causing her vaginal muscles to clench and her body to shudder with each blissful wave. Luke continued to lave her clitoris gently with his tongue, milking every last drop of pleasure from her body until she wilted against the wall, breathing heavily. He then stood up and captured her mouth again, his lips slick and tangy from her juices. He pushed down his jeans, working them off as he kissed her, suckling her lips and tongue fervently. His hands went to her pussy again, spreading her open. The head of his cock pressed into her swollen opening. Kristin moaned and opened her legs wider. She anchored herself with her hands on his hips. He pushed his cock a bit deeper inside her, stretching her, filling her with maleness. He groaned softly and slid the rest of the way in.

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***** Luke moved slowly at first. Her pussy felt so good, warm and wet, and tight. He closed his eyes, reveling in her soft skin and the tangy scent that permeated the air. Her muscles tightened around his shaft, making him lose his mind from the pleasure of it. He pulled his mouth from hers and nibbled on her neck as he increased the rhythm of his thrusting. She was so soft and beautiful and fit his cock better than the most perfect glove. He wanted to stay inside her forever, just like this. Her arms closed around him, pulling him close. When she breathed his name over and over again, the sound of it on her lips undid him. His climax erupted and he spilled out into her womb until every last spasm passed. He pressed his torso to hers against the wall, breathing heavily into her damp skin, his lips pressed on her shoulder. He felt so right inside her, their perspiring bodies joined, her slender arms around him, holding him. In that moment, he knew beyond a doubt that Kristin was his mate. It wasn’t until moments later, however, when his mind regained the power to think that he realized he’d come inside her. Bloody hell. His carnal need had so devoured him he’d forgotten the possible results. Panic rose. God, what had he done? How could he have acted so irresponsibly? Under other circumstances, it wouldn’t matter. He’d found his mate and she was his for life. Nothing could change that. Except Carrick. Carrick had been bitten by a criminally insane werewolf, a man who’d ended up in the electric chair for mass murder. Carrick, himself, had never been mentally balanced, and the bite had made him insane. The jealousy he harbored toward Luke who’d risen to alpha had simmered into blind hatred, which was why he’d done what he had to Luke and now wanted him dead. Now, Luke had put Kristin in danger.

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He sighed against her skin. His cock gradually softened and slipped out of her. He lifted himself away from her and pressed a tender kiss on her lips. In spite of the sight of her satisfied smile curving her lips, and her lids lazily hooding her blue eyes, he also felt guilty for just taking her so unromantically against the wall. “Thank you, Luke,” she murmured. Her hand slid languidly across his chest, the fingertips raking through the hair. She seemed to like the simple act of touching him very much, almost as much as having him inside her. He brushed a thumb across her cheek and kissed her again. “You must be exhausted.” His own fatigue began to take him in the aftermath of everything that had happened this night. She nodded, her head resting against the wall. She still toyed with his chest hair, her other hand resting on his hip. “I want to fall asleep in your arms, Luke.” He pulled her gently against him, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I’d like that very much.” His heart ached as he felt the silkiness against his lips. Never in his life had a woman’s sweetness made his heart ache the way hers did. He knew it was because she was his mate, and he grieved that they couldn’t be together. She pulled away gently and took his hand, smiling at him. She flipped off the light and led him out of the kitchen into her tiny bedroom with an old-fashioned brass bed and down comforter. She pulled down the covers and climbed in, moving aside to make room for him. He got in next to her and pulled her against him like nesting spoons as she pulled the covers over both their bodies. “Luke,” she whispered in the darkness. “What is it, love?” “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Because of you.” He kissed her hair, his heart aching. “Me too, sweetheart.”

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With his lips pressed to her shoulder again, he lay awake, listening to her breathing grow steady. He wanted so much to be with her and to protect her. Unfortunately, the only way he knew how was to leave, distracting Carrick away from her. Once the other werewolf knew about them, he’d be only too thrilled to kill her. Too tired to think about what to do, he allowed himself these few meager hours to enjoy holding her. At least he could have this bit of precious time with his mate.

***** Carrick raised his muzzle to the night sky and howled. The sound penetrated the soft, dense pelting of snowflakes that clung to his thick fur. Triumph would be his. After hours of trailing Ashton’s scent through the dark, infernally frozen woods, he’d finally traced the bastard to a house. Behind him, he heard Blaine and Rutger yelp as they caught up with him, bounding across the snow-covered field into the yard of the old Victorian house. Carrick had seen this house earlier in the day when he’d driven by it. A black pickup had been parked in the drive. It wasn’t there now. He trotted toward the house, pleased that Ashton’s scent was still strong, following the bastard’s distinct smell to the back door. He stopped in front of the rubber flap that would give him access to the inside of the house. Had he been in human form, he would have laughed. The bugger thought of everything, didn’t he? He pushed through the pet door into what was obviously a mudroom. Blaine and Rutger started to follow him in, but Carrick turned and snarled. One of them, dammit, had to go back and get their clothing from their car parked on the side of the road a few miles up. Blaine, in turn, snarled at Rutger, who finally put his tail between his legs and went back out into the storm.

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Ashton’s odor filled the room and Carrick followed it into a hallway. Sniffing along the hallway carpet, he found himself in a bathroom where the scent ended, curtailed by the bathtub full of water. A growl of frustration ripped from Carrick’s throat. He turned and trotted from room to room, sniffing every corner for signs that Luke still inhabited this place and hadn’t slipped once again from his grasp. In the living room, Carrick moved stealthily about, his lips curling in a satisfied snarl when he found what he was looking for. Ashton’s canvases were everywhere, propped against the walls, some draped with sheets, others exposed. On a large easel by the bay windows, one work sat, half finished. He had Ashton by the bollocks now. The bloke would never go anywhere without his precious artwork, not even in the midst of running from someone who wanted to kill him. Carrick moved to the braided rug in front of a large fireplace and lay down, preparing to morph. As soon as he was finished, he’d light a nice fire in the hearth and settle in with a good glass of spirits. If he knew Ashton, there would be a fine selection somewhere around here. He and the others had fed on the caribou buck Ashton had been forced to abandon hunting earlier, so appetite would not hinder the change back to human form. Besides, Carrick decided, he’d be damned if he was going back out into that infernal cold. Yorkshire was never the ice bath this place was. No, he’d wait here for Ashton to come back. It would only increase his pleasure to kill the bastard right in his own home. That would serve him for accepting alpha from Warden when he bloody well knew it had belonged to Carrick. Carrick’s insides began to burn like hell. He groaned, diverting his mind from the pain by thinking about how glorious it would be when he ripped Ashton’s throat out with his bare teeth. And he would do. There was no way in hell he was leaving here before Ashton was dead.

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Chapter Four

Kristin opened her eyes and smiled. Waking up next to a gorgeous man who’d made love to her the night before was something that might happen to other women, but not her. And yet, it had. The snowstorm had passed, leaving a clear sky. In the pale winter sunlight that filtered through the lace curtains of her bedroom, she watched Luke sleep, an activity almost as pleasurable as making love with him. Long lashes rested against his cheeks, the only tame looking feature about him. The rest of the man was a riotous mane of dark blond hair, heavily stubbled cheeks and jaw and chiseled muscle. One hand rested on the pillow by his face. For an artist, Kristin would have expected soft hands with slim fingers, not these large, strong ones that looked like they could build a house without any tools. Or caress her bare skin with such raw, yet tender passion. A light throbbing stirred in her sex at the memory of the night before, of Luke’s smoldering gaze, of his hands and tongue on her breasts, and of the way he’d buried his face in her most intimate part, feasting on her inner sex as if she were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted ...

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Luke sighed in his sleep and turned over. Whatever he was going through was obviously exhausting him. The alarm clock on her bedside table read ten-twenty and he showed no signs of waking up yet. A potent wave of tenderness passed through her as she watched him, sensing his exhaustion and need for rest. She resisted the urge to bend down and kiss him for fear of waking him. No doubt that when he did get up, he’d be starved. She slipped out from under the covers and into her robe and slippers. Quietly, she used the bathroom and then put out a clean towel and shaving things for Luke. Padding into the kitchen, she gathered up their clothing from the counter and the floor and set Luke’s jeans and sweater on the chair in the bedroom for him. It bothered her that he didn’t have a T-shirt, long underwear or even socks with him. When the wind blew the temperature outside reached at least twenty below, and he was dressed like it was early autumn. He’d obviously been running away from someone or something when he’d shown up at the diner. Kristin mulled over the possibilities as she broke eggs into a bowl, whisked them with milk, then pulled bread, butter, and bacon from the fridge. Luke didn’t appear to her to be a shady character who was running from the mob or something like that. She’d met enough artists in her life to know that sensitive, otherworldly gaze in their eyes, like Luke had. Her father’s girlfriend was an interior decorator and used to drag her to gallery openings whenever she visited, so she’d gleaned the knowledge. She sighed. Whatever it was, she hoped he’d confide in her. Then again, she half-hoped he wouldn’t, afraid the revelation would tear Luke away from her. She wished they could just stay like this, cloistered in the cozy warmth of her apartment, making love and snuggling together against the winter. Sadly, she knew that couldn’t happen. Eventually they’d have to go out for food. Al would call here, looking for her. She couldn’t afford not to work at this point, especially with

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fuel costs going up all the time. And, she acknowledged with a chill up her spine, whatever Luke was running from would catch up with him whether he told her about it or not. She sought to distract herself from her disturbing thoughts by taking the coffee from the freezer and scooping it into the filter of the coffeemaker. However, no amount of activity could erase the intuitive knowledge deep in her bones that whatever was going on with Luke did not include staying with her.

***** Luke sat bolt upright. Several moments passed before he realized he’d been having a nightmare. Carrick’s lascivious glare and high-pitched insane laugh rang in his mind, haunting him. Panic rose when he thought of Kristin, as if Carrick had come and snatched her away. He nearly catapulted from the bed, but then heard her moving about in the kitchen from which the mouth-watering smells of coffee and bacon were emanating. His chest heaved with his sigh of relief. His attention focused slowly on the lace curtains and pale winter sunlight visible through the window. The weight of his body on the soft mattress brought him more into the present, calming the storm in his chest and gut. The warm bedding full of Kristin’s musky female perfume soothed him and he sat back against the headboard and raked a hand through his hair. No woman had ever had this calming effect on him in his life. And yet, at the same time, she stirred his passion, rousing the maleness in him to full force. The combination intoxicated him. No doubt she was his mate. He should have been overjoyed but for the shadow of a madman hanging over him. Thank God the maniac hadn’t touched his mum, dad, and sister back in Yorkshire. Carrick was just the type to harm them even though Luke had fled three years ago, taking his mad pursuer on a world tour.

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Luke knew, however, with alarming certainty, that Carrick wouldn’t practice the same restraint with Kristin. Once Carrick found out that Luke had marked Kristin as his mate, he would certainly kill her just for the joy of causing more suffering for him. He hated himself for not standing up to Carrick and fighting him. But he also knew that such a stand off would have to be to the death. Nothing else would end the situation and Luke detested the thought of taking a life, even Carrick’s. Hunting was bad enough. He’d been a vegetarian when Janice, his first lover, had bitten him. So he’d run. He sighed, listening to the quiet sounds Kristin made, opening cabinets or handling silverware. He knew she was trying not to wake him, and the sudden desire to hold her gripped him. He remembered the smile that had lit up her face when she saw him at the door to the diner last night. He never remembered anyone looking so happy to see him. The more he thought about her, the more he got the sense that she, too, had been running from something. Although it was probably not a homicidal werewolf that she was fleeing, there was definitely an air about her that she’d been hiding from the world. How miraculous it truly was he had found her, his mate, here in the isolated north woods of Maine. Spotting his jeans and sweater draped neatly over a chair, he smiled. Throwing back the covers he rose from the bed. He slipped the clothes on and went to use the bathroom. Another smile came to his face when he saw the towel and shaving things she’d set out for him. She was a kind and thoughtful woman, and a sudden fierce wave of protectiveness overtook him. He turned on the faucets and stared at his reflection in the mirror while waiting for the water to get hot. The gray-blue eyes staring back at him had known only fear for the last three years, fear of Carrick’s wrath. But now, there was something else he saw simmering in his own eyes. Anger. Raw, blinding, murderous anger.

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He’d done nothing to Carrick other than becoming Warden’s favorite. He couldn’t control how Warden thought or felt, or the fact that Luke practiced discipline and honor while Carrick always skimmed off the top of their takings and gambled it away. He was sick to death of running from this barmy gobshite who made his life nothing but that of a lowly fugitive. Now, when he’d finally found a home for himself, and the best woman in the world, he was expected to turn tail again and flee. He flexed his jaw in anger. Dammit, no! He wasn’t going anywhere and he wasn’t going to allow Carrick to hurt Kristin, or anyone else he loved. Those days were finished. This was going to end. But first, before anything, he had to tell Kristin the truth of what he was. She had to be made known the situation she was in, the man she was ... falling in love with. He stopped as a pleasant ripple cascaded through his entire body at the thought. Yes, that’s what it was. He knew that she was falling in love with him, as certain as he knew she was his mate. And he was falling in love with her. God, he hoped she accepted him as he was. When he knew for certain how she felt, he’d deal with Carrick and reclaim his life. He knew he’d have to put aside his loathing for killing in order to keep Kristin safe. He’d have to fight Carrick to the death. One of them was going to die. And it wasn’t going to be Luke.

***** “Merry Christmas.” Kristin turned at the sound of the deep, sexy voice. A wide grin spread across her face, along with a flush of heat. Luke always had this effect on her. The sight of him elated her,

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terrified her and made her painfully shy all at once. She flipped off the stove burner and turned, suddenly very aware that she was naked under her pink terry robe. God, he looked incredible! His dark gold hair was slightly damp and combed back. He’d shaved, giving her a clear view of his angular jaw and cleft chin. His blue-gray eyes sparkled at her. And even with his body covered in sweater and jeans, she knew very well now the powerful, virile body underneath. With her loins throbbing and moistening, she went toward him. “Merry Christmas to you. I hope I didn’t wake you.” He smiled down at her and pulled her into an embrace. “No. The clock said ten fortyfive when I opened my eyes. It was about time.” Kristin wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest, the muscle deliciously hard against her face. She sensed a strength and confidence in him he’d lacked the night before and struggled to hide the ache that throbbed suddenly in her heart. Certainly with her track record in romance, Luke’s strength and confidence did not come from having decided to be with her. Luke held her slightly away from him and tilted her chin up gently. The colors in his eyes had warmed and his lids hooded his eyes. “Beautiful, sweet woman,” he whispered. Kristin’s hand slid up around the back of his neck, her fingers slipping into his soft hair. She went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. A soft groan escaped his throat, vibrating through their joined mouths, and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, heating her body, causing her sex to throb madly. Her body softened and she felt her robe fall open, her bare breasts pressing to his chest. The wool of his sweater rubbed her nipples, making them tingle and harden. She wanted Luke to back her against the wall again and take her the way he had the night before.

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Suddenly, however, he ended the kiss and took a step backward, breathing heavily. His hands slid from her back and took hold of her robe, pulling the two sides together in front of her. He must have seen the panic in her face, the fear of rejection, for he smiled gently and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Not yet, sweetheart.” His voice was husky, shimmering through her as if his fingertips played with her down below. “I want to lay you down and make love to you, long and slow, the way you deserve.” His words alone stoked her desire and she shivered pleasantly. Gloriously reassured, she nodded and tied the belt of her robe. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her lips tenderly. Then he looked up at the skillet full of scrambled eggs and bacon on the stovetop. “I do hope some of that is for you.” She laughed softly. “A little bit. Go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring it all out.” She refused his offer of assistance and watched him take a seat at the table. With a dreamy, contented feeling, she went about pouring the coffee and scooping the eggs and bacon onto a plate for him. It had been forever since she’d cooked breakfast for a man, and Luke was far more appreciative of her efforts than Dave had ever been. Hmm, she wondered at the way Luke held her. It certainly hadn’t been the embrace of a man about to take off, at least not that she could tell. A flame of hope burned inside her as she carried the food out to the table. “I feel guilty watching you do all this, Kristin,” he said. “You wait on people all the time. Maybe it’s your turn to be waited on.” His statement made her stomach flutter. It sure sounded good. She set the eggs and bacon down in front of him and then the coffee. “Don’t feel that way. I really like doing it for you.” She turned to go back into the kitchen, but he caught her hand gently and pressed it to his lips. “Thank you.”

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She smiled at him and went back for her own plate, a much smaller version of the spread she’d put out for Luke. They ate quietly, and Kristin refrained from acting on her curiosity and plying Luke with questions of everything she wanted to know about him. They’d nearly finished their meal when Luke looked at her. “Kristin,” he said softly, “may I ask you a personal question?” Her heart thudded as she set down her coffee. “Of course.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Well, it’s just something I’ve wondered about you since I first saw you. How is it that you came to live here, in such a remote place? I mean, you’re so pretty and intelligent. I picture you in a city, teaching at a university or something like that.” Kristin stared at him. Pretty and intelligent, he’d said. Two adjectives she’d never heard a guy say to her. “I ... um ... thank you.” She looked down at her plate. “My parents separated when I was a girl. We lived in Massachusetts. My father’s sister lived here. She and my uncle owned a potato farm. I’d spend summers with them and lived here a couple of years of high school. I went to college in Boston.” She paused, shy about telling him the rest of her story. The part where Dave had broken their engagement was always so painful. “I was working in a law office, seeing if I wanted to go to law school.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t for me. But that’s where I met ... someone. We went together for a few years and got engaged.” She stopped and took a sip of coffee. “You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want, Kristin.” She took a deep breath. “It’s all right. He ... um ... broke the engagement. I came back here and I’ve stayed ever since.” Hiding. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Don’t be. I would never have met you.” He smiled. “That’s what I was going to say.” A moment of companionable silence settled between them.

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“Kristin.” She looked up at him. The expression in his blue-gray gaze stopped her cold. A fist pushed through her gut. Here it was; the confession and then the good-bye. “What is it, Luke?” He cleared his throat. “I have something important to tell you.”

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Chapter Five

“I’m not certain you’re going to believe me, but I need to be honest with you. You’ve been so good to me, so ... loving.” “You can tell me, Luke.” He heard the fear in her voice and longed to take her in his arms and kiss it away. “Well, you know how you’ve been hearing a wolf lately, out in the woods? I’ve heard the discussions in the diner and around town.” She nodded, although her blue eyes clouded slightly. “You have a wolf?” He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “No, sweetheart. I ... am ... a wolf. A bloody werewolf.” He fell silent and watched her for her reaction. She stared at him, her eyes saturated with disbelief. “Luke, werewolves, they’re not real. They’re creatures of legends, folklore, they --” “They’re real. I swear to you. How long has this wolf been heard around here? A couple of months, right? The same time I moved here.” Kristin’s hand rested on the table. He covered it with his, grateful when she didn’t try to pull away. He’d have done anything to erase the emotional pain that tightened her delicate features, pain that he had caused her.

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She sighed. “You know, if you don’t want to be with me, or if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you, you don’t have to do this. You can just say it. I’m a big girl. I can handle it. We had a beautiful night --” “Bloody hell, Kris.” Luke released her hand and got up. He went to her seat and knelt in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not lying to you or making up lame excuses to get away from you.” He cupped her cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped her eye. “I swear it, love. Just the opposite. You’re my ... mate. For life.” Her eyes widened. “What? Your mate?” He nodded. “I hadn’t turned to another person for help in all this time ... until you.” He looked into her eyes. “I knew it when I made love to you. The attraction between us, the empathic connection.” Kristin blinked several times. Thankfully, the cloud lifted from her eyes, replaced by light. “Empathic? That’s why ... I feel so connected to you, like I can read your feelings.” He nodded. “Yes, it is.” He sighed. “I’ve finally found you.” He lifted his hand from her face and hung his head. “Which is why you must know everything. Nothing held back.” “Luke, how did you ... were born ... that way?” His heart leaped for joy. She believed him! He took a deep breath and clasped her hands between his. “Sixteen years ago when I was at University in London, I had an affair with my art history professor. She was a weyre, only I didn’t know it. She struggled to hide what she was, even from herself. But such a thing cannot be hidden and one night while we were together, she bit me. I ran away from her, thinking she’d gone mad. I stopped attending her classes and basically dropped out of school. But shortly after that, the changes began, the wild cravings for meat, the physical transformation.” At the sight of tears glistening in her eyes he stopped. “I’m so sorry, Kris. You deserve better than this.”

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Tears flowed freely down her cheeks and she sniffled. He handed her a napkin, which she used to sop up her tears. “Don’t apologize, Luke. I’m not crying for the reason you just said. I’ve felt more alive being here with you than I have in my entire life.” “Kris.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hair. Her body was so warm and soft, melting into his embrace. She was so sweet and beautiful. And she was his. For the first time in many years, he felt glad to be alive. “I love you. I knew that first day I saw you that you were special. I felt as if you were made for me. I just couldn’t admit it to myself. That’s why I always rushed away as soon as I finished eating.” Kristin chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it wasn’t because you couldn’t stand looking at me.” “God forbid. No. It was to prevent lunging across the counter and ravaging you in front of the customers.” She laughed softly and rested against him for several moments before she stirred. “Luke.” Her voice came out in a tense whisper. He stiffened. “Yes, love.” “Last night, I heard more than one wolf.” She gently disengaged from their embrace and looked at him. “Is that why you’ve looked so upset?” He sighed, his hands still resting on her upper arms. “Yes.” He released her and stood up, pacing the braided carpet by the coffee table. “You see, all those years ago, after I realized what I’d become, I grew desperate to find others like me. When I finally went back to the professor, the woman who’d made me, she didn’t want anything to do with me.” “How cruel!” Kristin’s pretty face darkened with anger. He nodded, moved by her sympathy for him. “It was horrible, the worst time in my life. She was the one person in the world who could understand what I was going through. But she hated herself and acknowledging my existence as a weyre, of course, would rip her from her denial.” He paused as the painful memory seared him. Janice had threatened to

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have him arrested if he went near her. Once, when he’d approached her in public, she began screaming for the bobbies, forcing him to flee. He stopped pacing and went back to his seat, preparing himself to tell Kristin the rest of his story. “So when I met Warden, I latched onto him, even though he was a criminal. For me, the fact that he was a weyre was all that mattered. His entire pack was made up of ... well ... unsavory characters, thieves and drug dealers mostly.” He sighed deeply, praying that Kris would still love him when he finished his tale of woe. “I was so grateful to be with other

weyres that I became one of them. A criminal. I never killed anyone. But I helped steal.” Grief pulsed through him, along with the usual loathing of what he had made of himself just to have the company of other weyres. “I do want to go back to England some day and make amends to those I’ve hurt, but I can’t yet.” He looked at Kristin. She was watching him, thankfully, with gentle sympathy. “Warden was ill at the time,” he went on. “Cancer. Before he died, he passed on the alpha to me. The beta, Carrick, was enraged. He’d never liked me to begin with, but when I was made alpha, he hated me. He used a woman, a she-weyre whom I was seeing, to set me up.” He told Kristin about how Jaynie had drugged him and Carrick had beaten him. “Carrick’s spent the last three years hunting me. And now he’s found me.” Reaching for her hand again, he squeezed it, hating the pain and terror that drained the color from her face. “Kris, he wants me dead.”

***** For several moments, Kristin could only stare at him, horrified at what he’d endured. Now she understood everything she’d observed about him -- the limp, the haunted look in his eyes, the way he was always looking over his shoulder. She couldn’t blame him for the things he’d done. She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be turned into a wild creature without one’s consent or knowledge and

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then to feel so alone and frightened. Yet through it all, he hadn’t lost his conscience. He was a good man, and she loved him. She rose from her seat and went to him. “I’ll help you, Luke.” She embraced him, pulling his head gently against her stomach, lacing her fingers into his hair. “Whatever I can do, I will.” “You already have, Kris. Just being here with you has given me strength.” She moved away and looked down at him, her blue eyes alive with urgency. “Let’s leave right now! I’ll throw some things in a bag. I won’t even do the dishes. We’ll go somewhere --” “Kris.” The soft growl in Luke’s voice silenced her. She froze and watched him rake a large hand through his hair, his brow creased in obvious frustration. “I can’t run anymore, Kris. He’ll only chase me down again. I know him. He’s probably waiting for me at my house right now. He’ll have traced my scent right to the door. And now I’ve gone and gotten you involved.” He shook his head. “No. I finally have something worth fighting for.” His blue-gray gaze penetrated hers meaningfully. Her mouth dropped open. “You don’t mean ...” He rose from the chair, pinning her gaze with his. “Yes, I mean you.” He grasped her shoulders, gently but firmly. “I’m going to face him, once and for all. Otherwise, you and I will never have a moment we’re not looking over our shoulders, frightened for our lives. I won’t let you live that way. I’ve done it for three years now and it’s horrible.” He touched her cheek again. The softness of her skin alone caused his groin to tighten and harden. “What you don’t know is that the weyre who made Carrick was a psychopath. Carrick himself wasn’t a clean-cut bloke to begin with. He came from an abusive home. The bite from a crazed killer only sent him round the bend.”

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Kristin’s blue eyes widened, reflecting more horror than he’d ever seen in a pair of eyes. He hated himself for having involved her in this nightmare and would have done anything to give her back her quiet life. “That’s why I must end it here.” “But Luke! Oh my God!” She flew into his arms, squeezing him tightly. “I’ve finally found you,” she sobbed. He held her close and stroked her golden hair, soothing her as he would a frightened child. “Shh,” he crooned. “It’s going to come out all right.” When she’d calmed, he led her over to the sofa and sat down, bringing her to snuggle against him. “We have an advantage here, I just realized.” She sat up and looked at him, hope burning in her eyes. “What is it?” “Carrick hates the cold. Despises it.” He took a deep breath, thinking. “Of course! Why hadn’t I realized it?” He looked at her. “Why do some people hate certain climates and have to live in other ones? Is it always that they just don’t like it, or is it that they don’t like it because it affects their health?” She thought of Al, who often complained of the cold, saying it made his bones ache. The only reason he didn’t move to a warmer climate was he couldn’t afford to move after years of paying alimony to his ex-wife. “It affects their health,” she answered.

***** “Precisely.” Luke sprang from the couch and resumed pacing, impassioned by the fire of courage spreading through his veins, courage that his love and desire for Kristin had imbued him with. “The thing to do is call him out here, on the street, where there’s nowhere to hide.” He turned to Kris, momentarily captivated by the trust and love shining in her blue eyes as she listened to him.

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“He’s not a good head-on fighter. I’ve seen him lose enough brawls. He must be out in the open, straight on. That will give me the advantage. And in this cold, he’ll be even weaker.” Worry clouded Kristin’s eyes. “I don’t want you to do this, Luke.” He sat back down and smoothed her hair. “Fighting a psycho werewolf isn’t high on my list of desirable things to do, either, but I must.” He glanced at the clock on the wall above the television set. “We have just under five hours until it gets dark. I’ll call my house then. He’ll be there.” He turned to Kristin, the vulnerable expression on her face stirred his desire. With his blood already running hot, he had to hold himself back from ravaging her. He cupped her cheeks, tilting her face upward. “There is, however, something that is at the very top of my list of desirable things to do.” Kristin’s breath caught softly and her eyelids fluttered several times. He couldn’t wait any longer to kiss her, and pressed his lips to hers. The moment their mouths touched, his cock sprang to life, hardening demandingly against the front of his jeans. He groaned and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips, sliding it easily into the hot, moist cavern of her mouth. He loved how soft and yielding she was and gently pressed her back against the sofa cushions, one hand cupping the side of her neck, the other untying the belt of her robe. Her robe fell open and he lifted his face from hers long enough to gaze down upon her naked body. A feral surge of possessiveness coursed through him at the sight of her pale, slender body. Her breasts jutted upward toward him, tipped with hardened nipples the color of ripe strawberries.

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He reached out and traced an imaginary line down the soft plane of her stomach, raked his fingertips through her dark blonde pubic curls and over her pussy lips. The moan she let out at his touch only fed his hunger for her. “Mmm. You feel so good,” he rasped. He brushed the pads of his fingertips up and down her slit, causing her to moan again and tilt her pelvis against his hand. She spread her legs wider, giving him full access to her open sex. Her musky female scent permeated the air around him, touching off wild tingling through his entire body, the sensation that always signaled his transformation to weyre. A growl erupted deep in his throat, and with an effort that strained every nerve ending, he pulled his hand away and sat back, panting heavily. Kristin’s eyes flew wide open. “What is it?” she asked, breathless. Her breasts rose and fell heavily. “Did I do something wrong?” He shook his head, fighting the driving need to pounce on her, turn her over and take her from behind in wild possession. “No, Kris. It’s just that ... I think you haven’t bathed in over a day.” Her brow furrowed and a deep flush of pink infused her cheeks. “No. I’m sorry. I --” “It’s not that. I ... love it. The thing is, the muskier you are ...” He brushed her inner thigh with a trembling hand. He wanted nothing more than to dive between her thighs and bury his face in her musky pussy. “The more it makes me ... change.” He raked his hair back. “Perhaps you should shower. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll frighten you with what I look like.” He expected her to get up immediately and head toward the bathroom, terrified of seeing him in weyre form. To his utter shock, a sensuous smile curved her dusky lips and she lay back, spreading her legs wide open, one leg hooking over the back of the sofa. Her pussy was wide open, the pink slick folds creamy and glistening from arousal. “Kristin, what are you doing?” Her tangy aroma of sex filled his nostrils, causing his control to slip several notches.

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Her seductive smile widened and her blue eyes were dusky under heavy lids. “I’m encouraging you to be completely what you are, Luke. Please, I want to see all of you. Don’t hold back.”

***** Kristin had been unprepared for the surge of wild arousal that roared through her body, but Luke’s feral reaction to her unleashed her emotions for him. She ached for him to be completely free with her, to lose his obvious shame and dislike of the creature that was now such an integral part of who he was. “Please, Luke,” she invited in a silky voice, “show me everything you are.” His chest heaved under his sweater and he growled again. “I’m afraid of frightening you. I’d only go halfway, so I’ll still look mostly human but just ... different.” Even as he spoke, his shaggy mane of dark blond hair grew even fuller and wilder. The muscles of his body bulged, the definition of each slope and ridge becoming even more sharply defined. In spite of the fact he’d shaved just a short while earlier, a heavy beard sprouted on his cheeks and jaw as she watched, the same silky fullness as his hair. Her gaze locked with his, entranced by the white-hot glow in his blue-gray eyes. She watched as his facial features sharpened, his skin becoming swarthy like burned bronze right before her. “How beautiful you are,” she breathed. “So masculine.” He groaned. “I don’t want to bite you.” The though sent a jolt of heat through her pussy. “I don’t care if you do.” He was breathing heavily now. His appearance was becoming just as he’d said, like a man ... but feral, like a wild man she would see running through a forest. A wild, masculine, hunter, following her scent, wanting her. “I care,” he said, his voice more a growl than a human voice. “I love you exactly as you are. I don’t want to take any risk of changing you.”

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She thought a moment. Something in what he’d said about the woman who’d bitten him had stuck in her mind. The professor had hated what she was and tried to suppress it. Obviously, when she’d bitten Luke, it was because the werewolf in her had to come out in some way. Perhaps if Luke felt free, he wouldn’t have to bite her. She told him her thoughts. He took one deep, shivery breath, his gaze sliding over her. “It’s too late. I’m going to have to take that chance now,” he said, his voice deepening further, his speech less intelligible, as if he were losing the ability to speak. “Take it, Luke. I love you no matter what.” He ripped off his sweater and stood up, undoing his jeans and pulling them off hastily. When he was naked, he turned to her and climbed back onto the sofa, straddling her, his arms bridging her body, his hands pushing into the cushions on either side of her. She reached up and smoothed her fingertips over the hard caps of his shoulders and down his triceps. The muscles quivered from her touch. He was so beautiful, the sexiest man she’d ever hoped to see, and, incredibly, he had taken her for his mate. She was his destiny. Luke’s male scent grew stronger, filling her senses and she melted underneath him, completely open and pliant, her pussy swollen and aching to be filled. He hovered above her, staring down at her with molten desire glowing in his eyes. When he moved his hands, she saw the sharp beginnings of claws in his nails. The hair on his chest was heavier and fuller. The sight of it made her wild. Kristin had never experienced such raw, potent masculinity, and now the force simmered around her and she surrendered completely. He dropped down lower and took her mouth with a searing kiss. His tongue, hot and sweet, plundered every soft crevice of her mouth, sliding against her teeth and tongue, tasting her wildly. He pulled away from her lips, growling constantly. His lips curled back and she saw the elongated fangs. His eyes glowed like fireballs and he growled again. The sound reverberated

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through her and she laced her fingers through his wild mane as he moved lower on her body, laving her bare skin with his tongue, lapping at the flesh with mounting fervor. Her nipples tingled wildly as each stroke of his tongue sent sparks of heat traveling through them. He moved lower, down her stomach, settling his face at the apex of her thighs. Pushing his face into her open sex, he breathed deeply, inhaling her. His breath blew over her slick folds in a hot caress. His tongue came out and lapped over her clit, the light roughness sending blissful heat through her. She cried out softly with each stroke of his tongue, his deep-throated growls vibrating into her. Her eyes closed and she arched her back, pushing her sex harder against his mouth. His hands slid over her buttocks, the nails lightly grazing her flesh. With a possessive tug, he pulled her closer to him as he feasted on her clit as if it were his life’s blood. After several more heated caresses from Luke’s tongue, the heat of orgasm built and exploded. She moaned as an orgasm erupted, shattering her with the intensity. He didn’t stop lapping at her until she went limp against the cushions. Luke lifted his face, his beard damp from her juices, and slid up on her body until he could cover her mouth again with his. The tangy aroma of her own musk clung to the silky hair of his beard, which tickled her skin pleasantly as it grazed her. His hard body covered hers and she embraced him, her hands filling with the flexing muscles of his back. She opened her legs as wide as she could and his cock easily found her slick opening and filled her with thick hardness. In long, hard strokes, he penetrated her, stretching her, gliding effortlessly out of her swollen creamy channel. Kristin threw back her head, completely lost in the deliciousness of being possessed by Luke. Her extreme arousal and enjoyment of his weyre state seemed to help him feel free, and he rose up on his hands, grinding against her with fervent passion.

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Her hands slipped down Luke’s back and clutched his hard buttocks, following the thrusting motions of his pelvis. A wild sound began to build in his throat, rising like a storm. Kristin knew he was going to howl and reached up, lacing the fingers of one hand into his wild mane, pulling his face down to hers. She captured his mouth in a kiss, suckling ardently on his long, thick tongue as another orgasm built in her sex. A few more thrusts and it erupted, reverberating in waves of heat through her sex. Luke must have felt the muscles clench around his shaft, for his body jerked under her hands and the howl she had sought to muffle exploded, echoing through their joined mouths. Kristin tightened her embrace, grinding her hips against his bucking movements until his climax had been exhausted and he collapsed gently onto her, his chest heaving, his large, muscular body pressing hers down in the cushions. She caressed his back tenderly, the skin over his muscles damp from perspiration. Slowly, as his breathing grew calmer, the weyre receded, leaving Luke lying on top of her. He lifted his face and looked down at her with a mixture of concern and satiation. “How was that, Kris? It was only about halfway.” He pushed a strand of her hair off her face. She smiled at him. “Couldn’t you tell?” She reached up and smoothed back his hair. “I can’t imagine anything better. And you didn’t bite me, see?” Relief flooded his eyes, followed by affection and tenderness. “Thank God. I can’t believe I’m not dreaming,” he whispered before lowering his face to hers for a deep kiss. He dipped his tongue languorously between her lips, smoothing it into every soft recess, then turned to his side, pulling her against him, their legs intertwined. Kristin glanced up, happening to see the clock on her wall. They had about four hours until Luke made the call to his house. She hoped Carrick had given up and left, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. After hearing what he was like, the way he’d taken a bat to Luke’s legs

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and had almost left him crippled, she knew such a person wouldn’t just turn around and leave. Luke stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “I know what you’re thinking, Kris. You mustn’t go there. We have these hours together. Let’s make the most of them.” And they did. After lounging on the sofa a bit longer, they got up and took a long hot shower, after which they ate some more and then Kristin asked Luke to make sketches of her. She took off her robe and lay back on the bed in as seductive a pose as she could think of. However, after a short while of sketching, the most erotic poses led to another lovemaking session. At four-thirty, after the winter sun had gone down, Luke picked up the phone and dialed his house.

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Chapter Six

Someone picked up the phone on the third ring. “Ashton, that had better be you.” Carrick’s voice sent chills through him. Luke glanced at Kristin, who sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, newly dressed in a set of long underwear. With her pale skin and golden hair, the white, slim-fitting material gave her the appearance of a snow bunny. He turned away so that he wouldn’t lose his nerve under her pleading blue gaze and pressed the receiver closer to his ear. “Of course it’s me, you barmy bastard.” Carrick’s high-pitched laughter tore through the phone like someone running fingernails on a chalkboard. “Where are you hiding, Ashton? Found a female to give you succor?” His enemy growled. “What did you think, that if you found a woman to ply you with meat and pussy, I wouldn’t be able to track you down?” Bile rose in Luke’s gut and he squeezed his other hand into a fist. He knew Carrick was baiting him, yet the accusations stung. In spite of Luke’s attraction to Kristin, one of the reasons he’d come out of hiding and turned to her was for those very things. Part of Carrick’s insanity was his calculating efficiency in pushing Luke’s tender emotional buttons. “Fuck you. You slimy piece of shit. What do you want?”

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Carrick’s irritating, bone chilling laughter bubbled through the phone for another few moments. “You know what I want, Ashton. Do you think I’m here in the bloody fucking Arctic so we can go hunting together?” Luke laughed now, happy for the opportunity to do a little zinging of his own. “Actually, Carrick, I thought that maybe you’d finally come to your senses and traveled all this way to congratulate me personally on making alpha. After all, you know what a brilliant

weyre Warden was. He never made mistakes. Didn’t you once say that yourself?” Luke felt his barbs hit their mark. A loud angry growl crackled through the phone. “Where are you, Ashton? Sounds to me like you actually have the bollocks to face me. Get your bloody ass over here now!” “No deal, Carrick.” Luke kept his back turned to Kristin during this crucial moment. He could feel her penetrating gaze and smell her fear for him filling the room. Looking at her directly could undo him. “If you want me, you have to come and get me. I’ll be right in the middle of Main Street.” He slammed the phone down before Carrick could respond. Slowly, he turned and looked at Kristin. Her blue eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip trembled. “When ... when is he ...?” she whispered. He went to her and sat down, pulling her against him. “Roughly in half an hour. As long as it takes him to morph and then make his way here.” He pressed his lips to her hair before releasing her gently. His blood pumped hotly through his veins and his body tingled again, ready for the full transformation. Unlike earlier when he’d made love to Kristin, the halfway stage where he still appeared somewhat human would progress to full-fledged beast, walking on all fours, his body covered with a thick coat of fur. His insides clenched with the changes pulsing in his internal organs. His claws and teeth were already beginning to elongate and his hair and beard were coarsening and sprouting. Already bare-chested, he pulled off his jeans before his bulging legs tore through the denim. He fell to all fours, panting as the beast inside him prepared to emerge.

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He looked at Kristin, who was watching him wide-eyed, her graceful hands clenched at her sides. Earlier, his change to weyre had aroused her. But now, she knew he was changing in order to fight Carrick and he saw terror widening her eyes. Before he lost the power of human speech, he turned to her. “Whatever you do, Kris, you stay inside. Don’t let them see you.” She gasped. “Them?” He nodded. “He has two goons. They’re stupid, but dangerous. Promise me.” She nodded. “I promise,” she whispered. Gripped by another surge of changes, Luke sucked in a deep breath as his capacity for human speech vanished.

***** Kristin sat frozen, witnessing the transformation of the man she loved into a creature that resembled a wolf, with four legs and a thick coat of gray fur and large jaws. He was larger than a normal wolf and the shape of his muzzle was blockier and well, fiercer-looking. Surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened of him. She was frightened for him. “Luke,” she breathed, unable to move or say anything else. The giant creature looked at her with Luke’s eyes, and for a moment, she thought he didn’t recognize her anymore. But in the next moment, he padded over to her, nails clicking on the hardwood floor and rested his large, wolf-like head in her lap. Speechless, she lifted her hand and rested it on his head, sliding her hand down toward his neck. She stroked him softly. Until the howling began outside. Luke lifted his head from her lap and stared at her hard, for a heartbeat, then turned.

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Kristin rose and followed him to the door of her apartment. She put her hand on the knob and turned it, opening the door for him. She closed it behind him and locked it, her blood chilling from the ominous battle cry howling in the street below. On Christmas Day at this hour, town would be deserted. Hers was the only apartment, so the chances of anyone witnessing what was about to happen were slim to none. The howling stopped out in the street. Kristin ran into her bedroom and peered from the window that faced the street. The street lay in darkness, the night broken only by the orange glow from the one streetlight on Main. She gasped. Luke was there, his hackles raised, his growling audible as he faced three other werewolves, their eyes glowing, their muzzles curled up in ferocious snarls. Her heart pounded painfully. How could Luke fight three on one with a damaged leg?

Think! Think! she demanded silently. There had to be a way to help him. She knew she’d never get Carrick away from Luke, but Luke had said the other two were stupid. There had to be a way to use their stupidity against them. An idea hit her. She turned away from the window and threw on her clothes. Once dressed, she rushed to the kitchen. She pulled the box of hamburger patties from the fridge and dumped them into a large mixing bowl. Running to the medicine chest in the bathroom, she pulled out every bottle of cough medicine, allergy medicine, and nighttime flu remedy. She even had a prescription that had codeine in it from when she had oral surgery six months earlier. Perfect! She dumped them all into the bowl of meat, which she mixed up into one large mountain of ground beef. She wiped her hands on a paper towel, just as the howling resumed, followed by growls and a series of barks, the kind she only heard when dogs engaged in combat. Tears stung her eyes and she prayed she wouldn’t be too late. She threw on her coat, stepped into her boots and grabbed the bowl of meat.

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Outside, the winter cold hit her face with its sting. The thunderous sound of gnashing jaws and growling roared in her ears. Her heart raced painfully as she snuck around the side of the building, cringing at the sight of a large mound of fur and claws pulsating in the middle of the quiet street. She made her way to the sidewalk, her gaze frozen on the combat-locked werewolves. They were all huge and dark and she couldn’t distinguish which one was Luke. A yelp sounded from the battle scene and one of the creatures skidded from the melee. His coat was scraggly and dun- colored and Kristin saw it wasn’t Luke. She sensed it wasn’t Carrick, either. She looked at him and dumped the bowl of meat onto the sidewalk. “Here, doggy, doggy,” she called. The large head turned. Yellow eyes glowed and a snarling growl vibrated through his large body. He lunged. Kristin screamed and ran, bounding through the shoveled snow toward her building. The fear of death blinded her, but when she reached the doorway and turned, she saw the hulking beast standing over the mound of meat, snapping up mouthfuls of it. Hanging back in the doorway, Kristin watched, praying for Luke’s life. After another moment, another weyre was thrown from the fight. He stood and shook his head, seeming disoriented. In seconds, he turned and saw his companion. He trotted over and bent his head to the disappearing pile of raw meat. The first weyre growled and snapped at him, but the second persisted and managed to grab up nearly half of the meat. Kristin watched them wolf down the last few mouthfuls. She knew she should go up the stairs, but her attention was captured by the two remaining fighters. This time, she recognized Luke, as the other weyre had a nearly all white coat. Jaws snapped and claws

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grabbed and dug as they locked together, rolling along the pavement until one would yelp and release the other before charging and clashing again. The white one, Carrick, did seem to be slowing down and Kristin remembered what Luke had said about the cold affecting him. A growl sounded right behind her. Her blood ran cold and she turned, her breath catching violently. The two weyres, the ones who’d eaten the burger meat, were standing a few feet away, their sinister eyes glowing at her, their lips curled in snarls. Snow clung to their fur and their raised hackles were visible in the light of the bulb that glowed right over the doorway. “Please,” she whispered, “Don’t hurt me.” Their growling grew louder and they closed in on her. They lunged. She screamed and started up the steps, her snowy boots slipping on the steps. She fell and slid downward on her stomach, screaming again as a pair of jaws grabbed her jeans leg and started dragging her down. She tugged away as hard as she could and started scrambling up the steps on her hands and knees, blinded by desperate fear. Miraculously, the denim slid from her attacker’s jaws and she found herself at the top of the steps, looking down at the two hulking beasts trying to climb after her, but moving sluggishly and sliding down to the bottom of the steps. One of them yelped softly then collapsed onto the first one. Kristin watched, her chest heaving from her ordeal, as they fell into a pile of slumbering, furry beasts. When it was clear they were asleep, she heaved a deep sigh of relief and started to cry. The sound of fresh howling snapped her to attention and she crept down the stairs, carefully stepping over the sleeping werewolves and peered round the corner.

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To her incredible relief, Luke stood in the middle of the street under the light, his head thrown back to release an unearthly howl. One ear was torn and blood soaked portions of his fur, but he was alive and well. Carrick’s body lay inert in a pile at Luke’s feet. She stared at Carrick and saw that he wasn’t breathing. She gasped, bringing her hand to cover her mouth as tears of relief flooded her eyes. She let go of the doorpost and ran out, clambering over the snow bank piled by the road to Luke. She reached him and fell on her knees, throwing her arms around him. “Luke, Luke,” she cried into his fur. “Oh God!” She sobbed against him and he nuzzled her. Already, she felt the werewolf receding and Luke coming back. His body shuddered, making her aware that he was cold. She released him and slowly stood up. “We’d better go inside. You’ll freeze.” With her hand on his head, she guided him back to the apartment, slowly, for he was stiff from fighting and from his limp. The two werewolves she had drugged were already halfway back to their human form. Luke used his powerful frame and muzzle to maneuver them out of the stairwell onto the concrete slab of the doorstep. Kristin closed and bolted the door and then followed Luke as he limped up the steps. She opened the apartment door for him and followed him in, bolting it behind them. Luke continued on, limping into the bedroom. Kristin followed him. For some reason, he was heading into the bathroom. When she reached the doorway, he was standing by the tub, panting. Slowly, he climbed in and looked at her. His coat was shorter and not as full and his claws had receded. He was starting to shiver. Silently, she went to the faucets and turned them on, starting the spray of the shower as soon as the water had turned hot.

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Luke lay down, rapidly regaining his human form. He stretched out under the hot spray, his eyes closed, his chest still heaving. The blood that had stained his fur now showed on his skin, but as the shower washed it off, Kristin saw with great relief that it wasn’t Luke’s blood. Even the cut on his ear was small and had already stopped bleeding. She pulled off her coat and knelt by the tub, watching him. More relief flooded her and tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally, he opened his eyes. His bottom lip trembled. “K ... K ... Kris.” He reached out to her. He didn’t need to speak. She understood. She straightened up, pulled off her boots and undressed quickly. She stepped into the tub and crouched down. He rolled over, into her arms. They held each other under the comforting warmth of the spray. After what seemed a long time, Luke lifted his face and looked at her. “You got the others away from me. How?” “I drugged them,” she said. “I used the hamburger meat. You said they were stupid. You were right.” He reached up and touched her cheek. “You saved my life, Kris.” A shadow passed over his face. “You could have been killed.” Kristin smoothed a wet strand of hair from his face. “Just tell me what’s going to happen. They’re still out there.” He shook his head. “Rutger and Blaine are complete cowards without him. They’ll have taken his body and driven away as soon as they come to.” She nodded and released a long shivery breath of relief. The last thing she wanted was another damn fight between werewolves, especially one that involved Luke. She’d had enough fighting for plenty of lifetimes. “Kris, I don’t know what I would have done if you --”

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“Shhh. It’s over now.” She pressed a kiss on his forehead. His damp skin was warm under her lips. She pulled away and looked at him. “We don’t have to worry about anything more urgent than what to name our child.” He stared at her as life seeped back into his eyes. “Child? Are you sure? It’s so soon to know.” She nodded and kissed him again. “Yes, I’m sure.” She looked at him and smiled. “There are some things you don’t have to be told.”

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Epilogue

One year later on Christmas Eve ...

Kristin rolled onto her back and spread open her legs. “Oooh, I like that position.” She smiled up at Luke, listening to his pencil scribbling on the drawing pad. “I thought you would.” Her hand slid up her thigh, toward her bare sex. He growled and set aside the pad. “I can’t concentrate when you do that.” He climbed onto the bed and covered one of her breasts with a large hand. Kristin giggled then sighed with pleasure as he delicately squeezed her nipple between his fingertips, causing it to pebble. “Shh. You’ll wake up Michael. I don’t want him to see us.” Luke grinned. “He’s three months old and can sleep through a nor’easter.” He bent his head to her breast and took the hardened tip between his lips, making a delicious suction. She moaned softly and laced her fingers through his hair. “Then what about your parents and your sister? They’re all just down the hall.” He lifted his mouth from her breast. “They’re so happy about you and me, I’m surprised they’re not huddled around the door, cheering us on.”

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Kristin giggled softly. “Well, at this rate, you’ll never have your paintings ready for the gallery opening in Rockport.” He released her nipple and nuzzled the swell of flesh. “I can work quickly,” he murmured against her breast. “God knows, I’m inspired. And anyway, you’re about to be a published romance novelist. The royalties are going to be pouring in.” Kristin chuckled, her heart swelling with joy and love. Luke’s attention to her breast had sent darts of heat through her sex, which now throbbed, opening and moistening. She rolled over, gently pushing him onto his back, her hands going to the button of his jeans. “I suppose we have time for a short break.” He groaned as she pulled down the zipper and released his cock, already swelling. Palming the smooth, hard shaft, she stoked it several times before taking the bulbous head in her mouth. A salty droplet of seed had seeped out and she lapped it greedily as she slid her mouth down his hardness, her lips gliding over the veins and velvety skin. She loved how he smelled and tasted and the way he groaned when she went down on him, making her feel so powerfully feminine. She sucked on him until she couldn’t go without having him inside her any longer. Lifting her mouth from his cock, she slid his jeans down over his slim hips to his ankles and climbed onto him, straddling him, a seductive smile as she gazed into his smoldering eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. She guided the head of his cock to her swollen opening and impaled herself, sliding down until her body rested on his. “I love you, Kris, you naughty bit, you.” He clasped his hands behind his head, watching her from under heavy lids. He bucked his hips as she rode him, grinding the base of his cock hard against her clit. “Ohhh.” She sighed and threw her head back, anchoring herself with her hands on his hips, increasing the rhythm of her grinding until an orgasm erupted with driving force. She bucked her hips back and forth until the last spasm passed.

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Luke reached out and grasped her hips. He sat up, kicking the jeans from around his ankles so he could turn her over onto her back and mount her. Lowering himself onto her, he pulled her legs open and slid into her, bracing himself on his elbows and capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. Kristin laced the fingers of both hands through his hair, following his head to her breast, which he laved with his tongue as he thrust inside her. She squeezed her vaginal muscles around his shaft and in moments, he groaned, his body writhing with a forceful climax. His warm seed pulsed inside her and he stopped moving, hovering above her, breathing heavily. Smiling up at him, she put her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her. He returned her embrace, entwining his legs with hers, pressing his lips to her shoulder. She sighed contentedly and snuggled against him, seeking the heat of his strength. “Merry Christmas, Luke.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Kristin glanced at the crib a few feet away from the bed and listened to the sound of the infant’s steady breath, a deep sense of contentment flooding her. Outside, the snow fell heavily around the house Luke had been able to make their home since he’d defended himself and their future the year before. She looked up above the bed where earlier, she had hung a sprig of mistletoe, and smiled.

Sedonia Guillone Sedonia Guillone lives on the water in Florida in winter and on the rocky coast of Maine in summers with a Renaissance man who paints, writes poetry and tells her she’s the sweetest nymph he’s ever met. When she’s not writing erotic romance, she loves watching spaghetti westerns, cuddling, and eating chocolate. Visit Sedonia on the Web at www.sedoniaguillone.com.