Candid Camera

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Candid Camera ISBN # 1-4199-0518-X ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Candid Camera Copyright© 2006 Susie Charles Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: February 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This book has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

CANDID CAMERA Susie Charles

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Corporation Beretta: Fabbrica D’armi P. Beretta, S.P.A. Blue Cross: Blue Cross and Blue Shield Association Cherokee: Daimler Chrysler Corporation Hummer: AM General Corporation Jockeys: Jockey International Inc. Mack: Mack Trucks, Inc. Porsche: Dr. Ing. h.c. F. Porsche AG Randall: Randall, Gary T. DBA Randall Made Knives Ritz: The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company Viagra: Pfizer Inc. Victoria’s Secret: V Secret Catalogue, Inc.

Candid Camera

Prologue “And you call yourself a professional? Just grab the damn camera bag, check out the dark room, and get your ass back out here with the stuff. Got it?” Bristling, twisting abruptly, Rick wrenched the other guy’s hands off him, pointedly smoothing the creases in his once immaculate shirt. “I know what I gotta do, asshole. And what are you going to be doing while I’m risking my butt?” The vexed expression faded from the other man’s face, replaced by a sneering smirk. “Keeping watch.” Rick snorted. That was about all the asshole was good for. Why the hell the boss felt he had to bring in New York heat was beyond him. He took two steps and stopped, sniffing, a frown creasing his brow. Something familiar teased at him. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but that raised the hairs on his neck just the same. “You smell that?” he asked, turning back to the other guy. “Smell what? The only thing I smell is your slimy ass. Stop stalling and get moving, for chrissakes. I don’t want to be stuck here babysitting you all night.” Yeah, yeah, big shot. What a fucking dickhead. Who the hell died and made him God? Throwing a quick glance over the darkened house, satisfied that the occupant slept, Rick levered himself up over the weathered wooden windowsill, grimacing at the powdery white streaks he knew would mark his dark slacks, and landed in a crouch on the parquetry floor inside the room. He already knew from casing the little cottage earlier that it was the living room. A scan of the room failed to turn up the black bag he was looking for. Turning too quickly, he caught his foot on the stringy and frayed edge of an oriental rug. Muttering with annoyance, he jerked his foot to free it from the loosely woven strands. A scraping sound made him look up as his swinging foot connected with the leg of an antique table. The huge painted vase on top began to wobble precariously, building momentum as it rocked from side to side. Heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, already hearing the almighty crash loud enough to wake the dead as it smashed to smithereens on the wood floor, he cursed under his breath as he lunged for the ceramic monstrosity to steady it. Sweat trickled down inside his shirt. Breaths coming in short pants, the sound of his pulse roaring in his head, he eyed the vase warily as he slowly removed his hands, relieved when it looked steady. Taking deep breaths to bring his rapid pulse back under

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control, he skimmed an eye around the room once more before he padded out and down the hall, heading for the kitchen. He froze when he stepped on an old floorboard that squeaked, the noise sounding as loud as a rusty hinge in the heavy silence of the house. Shit! He glanced around, eyes peering, senses alert, listening for any hint of movement upstairs. Nothing. Satisfied the occupant still slept and his presence was as yet undetected, he moved into the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he noticed his goal sitting on a counter. With a wide smile, he skirted the table and chairs in the middle of the room and made a beeline for the square black bag. He clenched his hand around the nylon strap and lifted, groaning when something metallic clattered to the tiled floor. Jesus Christ! Was the whole goddamned house booby-trapped? The odds of being discovered were stacking against him. The spot on the back of his neck that was his personal danger radar was itching like a bitch. To keep his hands free, he slung the padded strap over his shoulder and turned to the old wooden door that led, he knew from his earlier snoop, to the converted room used as a darkroom. As he hunted for the key to unlock the door, he mused on the broad who owned the place. That was some prime, Grade A female. His dick started to harden just thinking about her. Their previous bust-up when he grabbed her camera had given him a fleeting appreciation for her assets. It was just too damn bad he wouldn’t have time for a bit of fun with her. A soft slide of metal on wood let him know his questing fingers had located the old key hidden on top of the doorjamb. Victory lighting his eyes, he closed his fingers around it. “Hold it right there.” The kitchen light clicked on, the unexpected brightness blinding him for a moment. He froze, rolling his eyes. Ah, shit. “Put the bag down and turn around nice and slow.” He sighed. Dumb broad. Why did the good-looking ones always have to be so damn stupid? Did she think he wasn’t armed and dangerous? He turned, his thoughts shifting from annoyance to lust in a heartbeat. She was a tall one, all right, taller than him by a good five or six inches. But she had the biggest set of tits he’d seen outside of a Vegas strip joint. Another time, another place, he wouldn’t mind fucking those beauties, watching her lips wrap around his cock on the upthrust. Hell, yeah. However, her choice of weapons—a goddamn broom in one hand and a phone in the other—made her look about as threatening as a mouse. A sneer spread over his face. “Look,” he started, hands raised, “just let me leave, and nobody will get hurt.” “Put down my bag.” 6

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She was determined—he’d give her that. “Sorry, lady, no can do.” There would be no getting into the outer room now. Best to cut and run with what he had. Watching her closely, he tried to edge around her, but she brandished the broom at him, landing a solid thunk on his right elbow, right on his funny bone. Damn it, that hurt like hell! He could feel the pain shoot up his arm as weakness streaked through the limb. Feinting a little, reaching out with his good hand, he managed to grab the broom, yanking on it and dislodging it from her grip. As she tottered forward, he followed with a backhanded slap to her face, his weakened arm not allowing him as much force as he would have liked. He pushed her roughly out of the way, so that she landed with a hard thump on the floor, a satisfying cry of pain leaving her lips as she landed on a bandaged arm. Seeing her spread out on the floor, robe dislodged from her shoulder, the fabric caught on a nipple and showing the full swell of a breast, a lascivious grin creased his face as he crouched down beside her. Shock and fear apparent in the paleness of her face, the widening of her eyes, she tried to lean away from him. “Don’t touch me, you bastard.” “Or what? You gonna try to hit me again, lady? I don’t think so.” Mouth watering, he reached out and freed the object of his lust, brushing off her pitiful attempt to stop him with another slap across the face. Roughly palming the handful of breast, he twisted the nipple hard, chuckling at the little scream that left her lips. Damn, he loved it when they screamed for him. “You sure as hell are a temptation. But much as I’d love to stay and take advantage of the offer, gorgeous, I’ve gotta run.” He flicked a fingertip at the reddened and abused tip, payment for the bang on the elbow he’d received, smirking when the rough treatment garnered another cry of pain. “Like that, hey? Maybe we’ll run into each other again, babe, and we can continue our fun.” “You’re not going anywhere, scumbag.” Barely out of his crouched position, he froze. The deep voice threw him. What the hell was with that? What was she—a transvestite, or something? His smile dropped, a shiver of disquiet skittering down his spine as the look on her face changed. It was the queerest thing. As he watched, her eyes glazed over, the color shifting from a light blue to almost black. As her eyes appeared to lose focus her arms shot out, fingers like steel bands clamping around his neck. The hand that had been occupied with feeling her up fell to the side as she rose from the floor, lifting him with her until his toes barely touched the floor. The camera bag slipped off his shoulder, dropping on the floor with a thud. He struggled wildly, blood pumping in his head as he clawed at the hands, trying desperately to break the grip. A chair went flying as his leg threshed uselessly.

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He was choking. Feeling the table at his back, he groped blindly for something, anything to use as a weapon. When that failed, he starting swinging wildly, fists and nails flailing, anything to break the stranglehold she had on his throat. The wide-eyed unblinking stare was starting to seriously freak him out. He managed to land a couple of good ones on her, but he was losing fast, lack of oxygen starting to make spots appear before his eyes. Gathering his final reserves, he bunched his left fist and swung at her, satisfaction pouring through him as her head snapped sideways. All of a sudden, the choking grip on his throat slackened and he dropped to the floor. Gasping, he bent over, taking a moment to draw a deep rasping breath into his lungs, wincing as the oxygen-rich air passed over his tortured and bruised windpipe. Not waiting to see what happened next, he turned and bolted out of the room. Before he even reached the living room, every light in the house turned on, loud music unexpectedly blaring from the stereo speakers, the TV suddenly coming to life. What the fuck? He just wanted out! As he neared the open window he’d used to make his entry, he bunched his muscles and dived headfirst through it, uncaring if he hit anything, tucking and rolling, a grunt leaving his mouth as he landed outside and rolled to a stop. A hand yanked him to his feet and he looked up into a pair of furious black eyes. “You stupid fuck. What the hell happened?” Wrenching his body free, he turned and glared at the other guy. “Look, tough guy, there is something seriously weird about that bitch.” He shook himself as a shiver raced over his body. “Her eyes, man. And she’s got a grip on her like Muhammad Ali. She damn near choked me to death.” He tentatively fingered the bruised flesh of his neck. “You flew out of there because of one little woman?” the other man sneered. “I’m telling you, moron, something seriously fucked up is going on in that house.” His accomplice gritted his teeth in exasperation. “So, did you at least get the bag?” Rick stood with his arms extended. “Does it look like it, pea brain? No, I didn’t fucking get the bag. I nearly got killed.” “Christ, you’re hopeless.” “Oh yeah? You wanna go in and have a try?” “What, now? The whole fucking neighborhood will be awake in a minute, thanks to you.” He turned and stared at the brightly lit house, considering, his eyes narrowed. “No, I’ll come back later and do it right.” He glanced at Rick before stalking off. “You understand the meaning of the word ‘stealth’, dumbshit?” he threw over his shoulder. Ignoring the jibe, Rick took off down the back lane to the car they’d left hidden in the shadows. He didn’t care what anyone else said, there was something seriously weird going on in that house.

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Chapter One “Ouch! You know, whole sections of the population will be eternally grateful you never pursued nursing as a career.” Crissy grimaced at her cousin’s less than gentle touch as Georgie dabbed at the inflamed abrasion on her face. A Florence Nightingale, Georgie was not. “You need a bodyguard.” The glare in Georgie’s eyes just dared Crissy to disagree. But she dunked the cotton ball once more in the mix of antiseptic and warm water before turning back and gritting out, “Next!” Crissy shifted sideways on the wooden chair, easing the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, and offered the fiery-looking scratch up to Georgie’s ministrations. “Hell, Georgie. This is New Orleans. Mugging’s just a hobby here, like skiing is at Lake Tahoe. Besides,” she said, pushing Georgie away and muffling an “ouch” as the sting registered, “it’s only a scratch.” Tossing the used cotton ball in the trash, Georgie planted her hands on her jeansclad hips, concern and anger radiating out of her. It had to be the red hair. Every inch of her diminutive five foot three was bristling indignantly. “Well, let’s see, shall we?” She ran her eyes down Crissy and back up again. “One black eye, one sprained wrist, scratches, bruises and abrasions that make you look like you were run over by a Mack truck… Did I miss anything?” Crissy stifled a groan as she leaned down to scratch behind Fatso’s ears as he rubbed up against her legs. She smiled at the contented, throaty purr he let out as she hit his favorite spot. Poor cat. Fatso had come into her life unexpectedly, one wet night after doing the shots at a ritzy thousand dollars a pop dinner-dance function. Huddled under her car, plaintive mewling the only thing alerting her to his presence, soaked to the bone and shivering, he looked like such a pathetic, scrawny picture, she just couldn’t leave him. But somehow, what had originally been a temporary solution to get the bedraggled puss fed and dry had become a permanent stay. Behind her, Georgie started to sneeze. And sneeze. “Damn cat!” She sniffled and inhaled sharply, readying for another explosive ahchoo. “Shoot, sorry, sweetie. Forgot.” With a gentle shooing motion, she urged Fatso away from them. Her cousin’s allergy to cats flared every time Fatso came in the same room. Using the edge of the table for support, she levered herself to a standing position, trying not to flinch from the stiffness pervading every muscle in her body. Once she got warmed up, she seemed to be okay.

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Crissy took a couple of steps over to the kettle and turned it on. Coffee. Caffeine. In megadoses. Either one would have to make a difference. It was just a damn shame there wasn’t any whiskey in the house to flavor it. She could do with all the numbing she could get. She grabbed a couple of mugs off the hooks hanging under her cupboard and held them up to Georgie. Grabbing a tissue to wipe at her eyes, Georgie nodded. “And none of that caffeine crap, Cris. Herbal tea for me, thanks.” Crissy rolled her eyes. That was a given. Georgie was a health nut. God forbid that a drop of coffee should pass her lips. Usually Crissy had to endure a lecture on the evils of caffeine, but it just went to show how distracted her cousin was in that none was forthcoming. Spooning the Kenyan mocha blend into her cup—two heaped teaspoonfuls instead of her usual one—and draping the tag of the tea bag over the edge of Georgie’s mug, she bit her lip and surrendered—a bit. “Okay, I agree, it does seem a little bit weird— being mugged twice in one week. But you’re suggesting there’s something more to this than there is. Yes, my new camera was stolen in the first hit, but hell, retail it was worth about three thousand bucks, Georgie—that was a good haul for one night’s work for whoever grabbed it. And tonight the sonofabitch didn’t get squat.” Georgie shook her head as she stood and joined her, exasperation written all over her face. “There are times when I really want to hit you, Cris, and if you didn’t already look like a frickin’ disaster, I’d add to the bumps and bruises you’re currently sporting! You were mugged, Miss I-can-take-care-of-myself, so badly I had to take you to the ER the first time, remember? You didn’t get this—” she held up Crissy’s bandaged arm, “— ice skating. Then tonight you surprise a burglar in your house. Now, most normal people would’ve just called the police and waited for them to arrive and arrest the guy. But no, what do you do? You decide to take him on with bum arm. What the hell were you thinking, woman? What if he’d had a gun or a knife?” It was the truth that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d just been so incensed at the time that someone had broken into her house, that common sense had fled. “You know me,” she said sheepishly, “act first, ask questions later. Besides, I knew you’d call in the cops if things got out of hand.” It was just pure luck that she’d been sitting up in bed talking on the phone to Georgie when she heard the noise downstairs. “Oh yes, and did I mention how wonderful it was hearing you getting the crap beaten out of you while I was miles away? Some comfort that would have been if a gun had gone off. Hell, Crissy, any gray hairs I get, I’m naming them all after you.” Crissy glanced away, her gaze settling on the darkness outside the window, seeing beyond her own reflection, as if the shadows of the night held the answers to all the questions running through her mind over what had happened earlier. For some reason, there was a huge chunk of it that she just couldn’t remember. She recalled falling on the floor, but then a big block of nothing until the guy was staring at her, holding his throat

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with a panicked look on his face. She could just imagine what Georgie would do with that little bit of information. “Hello! You still with me?” Crissy turned and huffed at her cousin, disguising the disquiet that was plaguing her. “You’re exaggerating. I scared him off, and he ran. Pity you weren’t here, anyway. You could have flattened him with that Ti…tay… Whatever that thing is you do.” “Tae kwon do.” “Yeah, that’s it. “You’re hopeless.” Georgie rolled her eyes. “But seriously, you don’t think the two incidents could be linked?” Her eyes, now that she’d calmed down a bit and the agitated flush had faded from her skin, settled back into their normal greenish-hazel. “I mean, this is pretty high odds—two in one week.” Georgie linked her hands in front of her and leaned forward over the little round kitchen table, her expression intent and animated. Her little cousin was just getting warmed up. “It can’t be a personal connection. I mean, Neil’s a nice guy and all, but as boyfriends go, he makes a great accountant, if ya know what I mean.” “You saying Neil’s boring?” asked Crissy with a twinkle in her eye, relieved, for now, to have dropped the other subject. Georgie looked at her and grinned. “And you’re not? Gimme a break. I’ve seen more personality in a potted plant. I just can’t figure out what you see in him.” “I couldn’t either—most of the time,” agreed Crissy with a sigh. “That sounds like past tense. Since when?” “Last weekend. He was a sweet guy, but…” “No boom in the bang, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Weeeell…” Feeling the color move up her neck to her cheeks, she turned away. Georgie coughed in disbelief. “You’re kidding me! You two hadn’t even done it yet? Heck, it was…how long?” “Two months.” “He didn’t… I mean…it wasn’t…you know…” Georgie illustrated by holding her index finger out straight and curling the tip down, “a little problem of his, was it?” Crissy had to stifle a chuckle at the look of consternation that crossed Georgie’s face. “No, not that I know of, anyway. He said he wanted to wait until we were both sure.” Georgie snorted. “About what? What color you were going to decorate the bedroom after the honeymoon? The man isn’t normal.” She shook her head. “Well if nothing else, I guess it made up your mind. You okay though?” To be honest, she was more relieved than okay. “Crissy honey, it was time to move on. You need to find a man who’s got a bit more get up in his go, ya know?”

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“Yeah, I know.” She’d cringed the last time she and Neil went out when he’d started hinting something more, something like…marriage. He’d whispered the word in her ear, at the end of a whole lot of other stuff she hadn’t even been aware she’d tuned out. But that word had made her tune right back in. And the shiver running down her body had absolutely nothing to do with excitement. Unfortunately. There was every chance being married to Neil would mean death by boredom. Wonderful, sweet guy, but dull. But it had been the wake-up call—she’d let him down as gently as she could and put an end to it right then. “Anyway,” Georgie waved her hand in the air as if that little problem was solved, “so, it’s obviously not a personal thing. Maybe it’s a professional link.” “You’re kidding, right?” Crissy laughed and looked at her cousin as though she’d lost a brain cell or two. “Now you’re really stretching. I shoot pictures of charity events and society-dos, and oh God, let’s not forget the opening of new municipal buildings. Those shots of that new arts center last week could be worth big money on the black market…” she said dryly. “The most ‘controversial’ shot I’ve taken in the last six months was Judge Deparde with his shirt caught in his fly after a trip to the men’s room.” Georgie scowled and curled up her lip in disdain. “That’s right, joke it up, girl. But I’ve just got a feeling something else is going on here. What about that journalist you work with…what’s his name again?” “Jerry?” Crissy frowned and shook her head, as if dispelling the idea. “He freelances. Like me. He just tells me what to shoot, and I shoot. I get paid when he sells the story. But it’s mainly just nightlife, who’s hanging out where, the odd celeb shot…you know, simple stuff. Besides, the police don’t seem too concerned,” said Crissy. “They think like I do—just random acts, Georgie.” Random, her ass. But the last thing Georgie needed was encouragement. “The cops are too short-staffed to give it more than minimum attention, Cris. But it just doesn’t make sense. At least let’s talk to someone professional about it, okay? Get another opinion. Put my mind at rest. Deal?” The kettle squealed as it reached boiling point, and Crissy leaned over to click off the stove, the raucous noise decreasing to a soft steamy whistle. “Fine,” said Crissy, rolling her eyes. “If it will help you sleep easier at night—” “It will.” “—then call someone in the morning. Maybe then you’ll give me some peace.” Although somehow Crissy doubted it. Georgie was like a dog with a bone. Too many hours spent watching cop shows on TV. There was a frustrated little PI in there just busting to break free. “By the way, Cris,” Georgie glanced at Crissy with a bemused expression on her face, “what about the other guy?” Crissy looked at her blankly. “What other guy?”

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“There were two male voices. I heard another guy. Come on, you know what I’m talking about…the guy with the really deep voice—’You’re not going anywhere, scumbag’,” Georgie mimicked, trying to lower the pitch of her voice to a level it had no hope of reaching. Crissy frowned. Georgie’s words had hit on exactly what was bothering her, that there had been somebody else there. But it was all so fuzzy. “You must be mistaken. There was only the one.” Still, a feeling of missing something important, something she should remember, clung on and wouldn’t let go.

***** Randy pushed open the door of the office and grimaced when his head knocked the stupid little gold bell his brother had placed over the door to hear clients coming and going. He resisted the urge to rip the damn thing out of the woodwork. Either that or he had to remember to duck in future. He only just cleared the doorframe as it was. Instead of a stupid, pissy little bell, what they really needed was some office help. The way Were Watching, their fledgling security and investigation business, had taken off in the last twelve months had surprised them all. The idea for the business had been a perfect combination of their various talents—his brother Ziggy’s ex-Special Forces skills, Chad’s tracking abilities that still left Randy scratching his head in amazement, and his own six years spent as a detective. The best bit, as far as he was concerned, was that while Ziggy was left in the office all day running the show, he and his cousin Chad got to go out on the cases. Speaking of whom… Randy kicked softly at the sole of Chad’s outstretched boot. Chad glanced up at him with a soft “Hey!” and closed the girlie magazine he’d been flicking through, tossing it on the top of the stack on the unstable little table he had his other foot propped on. “‘Bout time you got here, man.” Chad stood and unfurled his full height so that his fingertips almost brushed the ceiling as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned, looking every bit like the big cat he was. Crazy screwed-up family, Randy thought, not for the first time, and shook his head. Who would’ve thought a werewolf and a werecat could be cousins? Thanks to their mothers, two sisters sharing a penchant for furry guys, the unbelievable had happened. Still, Randy had to admit that for a cat, Chad was about as cool as they came. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Things seem pretty quiet for a change.” Chad bumped the unsteady table with his shin as he stepped around it, and it started to totter. As he grabbed for it, a shiny curtain of long, jet-black hair fell forward and hid the lazy grin. Randy shook his head in amusement—the whole “Native American” look with the hair and the high cheekbones really worked with the chicks— Chad drew them in like bees to a honeypot.

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Restoring the table to its fine balancing act between semi-stable and total collapse, Chad let go of it and watched it warily for a moment before he straightened. “Sure, now it is. Zig’s been doin’ his usual rant, and I’ve been the only target for the last fifteen minutes.” “Why? What’s up his ass this time?” His brother always had some bone to pick with the two of them. The guy was just too serious for his own damn good. A chortle escaped Chad and he winked as he leaned in closer. “I think it may have something to do with ‘unprofessional conduct’.” “Again?” Randy winced. “Yeah, man, and this time it’s your fault.” Chad’s eyes were sparkling with familiar mischief, lightening the pale green color even further. “Does the name Luisa Santiago ring a bell?” Randy laughed. “A bell or two or three. Hot little tamale, that one. Why? She didn’t call and complain, did she?” Following a call to go and update the security in the sexy marketing executive’s condo, they’d had a nice little fuckfest that he’d recently ended. The casual sex had been okay. After all, what red-blooded guy could say no when a sexy lady had her hot lips wrapped around his cock within ten minutes of saying “Howdy”? But after two weeks, it just wasn’t doing it for him. Of late, one chick started to look the same as the next one. In a word—boring. God, he’d even had trouble getting it up more than once a night lately. And chicks like Luisa expected him to have a permanent hard-on—like he had shares in Viagra. Maybe he was getting old. Maybe his dick just didn’t want to play anymore. And maybe he needed his fucking head read! No, he knew what the damn problem was. Could even trace when it started. New Year’s Eve. A little bit of Auld Lang Syne that had gone on for the best part of an hour and nearly made him come in his pants like a young pup. The woman of his dreams had walked into his life and back out again, and he didn’t even know her name. Her face, her smell, the feel of her—the memory of what had passed between them that night drove him so crazy, at times he felt like a train wreck waiting to happen. Once upon a time a nice set of tits, a cute, curvy ass, and he was right to go. Now, though… All he wanted was her. He wished he could be more like Chad—his view on the opposite sex was purely visual and started at their breasts and ended at the notch between their thighs. His father had just laughed, and told him it was “nature’s way of telling you it’s time to settle down, boy”. He guessed it could be the mating thing. Every lupine he knew was hit with it at some point or other. That was something Chad wouldn’t have to worry about. With the exception of Chad’s dad, he’d never known a cat yet to settle down with one woman. And stay there. But then Chad’s mom, his Aunt Isabel, was the sort of lady who could definitely keep a man happy—and on his toes. Even now, approaching the big half-century, she could turn the heads of men twenty years her

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junior. Randy laughed to himself. Old George spent half his time hovering over her growling and hissing at any man who even looked her way. “Not complain, exactly,” replied Chad, breaking into his thoughts. “Huh? Oh, Luisa. So, what was her problem?” “Something about the…ah…unexpected cessation of ‘services’—stud. Zig feels you’re taking the ‘service with a smile’ thing a bit too far—especially the ‘service’ bit.” Further conversation was cut off when a deep voice bellowed from the inner office, “Get your asses in here, you two!” Chad waggled his eyebrows at Randy and grinned as he stepped around the little table. “Here we go.” Randy stifled a chuckle as they both headed into the chaos that his brother Ziggy called his office. At thirty-five, Ziggy was only a year older than him and five years older than Chad, but the frown on his forehead and the tiredness in his eyes had middle age written all over them. Ziggy was standing, leaning over his desk, his brow furrowed, a dark, longsuffering look on his face. “Pull up a pew.” He waited while Randy and Chad both took a seat. “Look, you two, I don’t care how many women you screw on your own time, but from now on, leave your dicks in your pants when you’re on a job. I’m sick and tired of explaining to our female clients why you two can’t pussyfoot around there whenever they get an itch that needs scratching. This is not a hunting ground so you two can get your rocks off, for Christ’s sake. Comprende?” He looked pointedly at Randy then at Chad. “You get my drift?” “Sure you’re not jealous, bro? Maybe you need to get out in the field every now and then and see what we have to put up with.” Personally, Randy thought Ziggy needed a damned good fuck. Kinda release some of that tension he was storing all over his body. “What? And leave one of you to run the office? God, we’d be out of business in a week.” He sat down again, his chair creaking ominously, and flicked through the clutter of papers on his desk until he pulled a yellow legal pad out from under a scatter of files. “Okay, let’s get to it. Had a call this morning from a lady by the name of Georgie Carter. Seems her cousin has suffered two muggings in the last week and they aren’t getting much help from the police. I want both of you to go out there and check it out. Chad, you can look at the security on the house, see what it needs and Randy, I want you to look into the muggings—see if you can find a connection.” “What info do we have so far?” asked Chad. “Client’s name is Crissy Carter. Freelance photographer. Lives over on Esplanade. Let’s see… Mugged one night last week coming home from a shoot. Not only was her camera stolen—estimated value three thousand dollars new, which it was apparently— but she was roughed up pretty badly when she tried to fight off her attacker. She reported it, but the police didn’t hold much hope of an arrest considering it was nighttime and she didn’t get a good look at the guy. 15

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“But last night she surprised a burglar in her house. Was on the phone to her cousin at the time, so Georgie Carter heard the whole thing. Lucky for Crissy the burglar ran off—right over the top of her to hear Georgie tell it. The woman must look black and blue and every color in between by now.” Chad and Randy both stood. “We’re on it,” said Randy, reaching for the address Ziggy handed him, winking at Chad as they headed out the door. “And no hanky-panky this time,” Ziggy called out to them. “We’re professionals, and don’t forget it.” As the door closed behind them, Chad grabbed Randy’s elbow. “What’s the address, man?” He took a quick glance at the paper Randy thrust under his nose. “Okay, I’ve got to duck home for a minute—I’ll meet you there in ten.”

***** Even though the hour was still early, the heat of the day was building as Randy pulled up in front of the cute little blue, wood-siding cottage and ran an experienced eye over the property. One of the older shotgun houses typical of the Quarter, singlestory but with a camelback, sitting on a corner lot with a garage around the back. But if there wasn’t a security system installed, it was a burglary just waiting to happen. Just sitting in his truck he could see at least half a dozen easy entrances for a thief. The heat off the road hit him in the face as he climbed out of his pickup. Lifting his dark shades and squinting at the bright sun, he turned at the throaty gurgle of a Harley and watched Chad pull up behind him. Chad lifted his helmet off and shook his head, sliding his sunglasses up to hold back the thick, dark mane of hair. “You been in yet?” he asked Randy. “Nope. Just checking out the outside. Have a look and see for yourself. From here it looks like old Granny Trudeau could find a way through those front patio shutters without breaking a nail.” Chad nodded in agreement as they crossed the road. Randy grabbed Chad’s arm as they walked up the small set of stairs to the house, sniffing the air. He could feel the hackles rising on his neck. “You smell that?” “Sure do, man.” Chad frowned and sniffed the air again, turning his head to test the scent. “At least one furry, but something else… Shit, you don’t think a vamp was here too, do you?” “Can’t tell yet, but one thing is sure as hell, this wasn’t a simple B&E. We might need to get in touch with Marcus if this turns out nasty.” “Sure, no problem. Well, my job is to check out the house. Your job is to check out the client, yeah?” commented Chad as he pressed the doorbell. A petite and very curvy woman who barely came up to Randy’s chest, dressed in faded and torn jeans to match the fashionably faded and torn tank top, opened the door. “Or maybe I could talk you into swapping on this one,” whispered Chad in his ear.

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Randy throttled back the laugh at his cousin’s comment and smiled back at the lady in front of him. It was an unspoken game between them that if one showed an interest in a woman, the other one would turn on the charm too, just to see who could score. What he’d give, just once, to see Chad get his whiskers in a serious tangle over some female. “Morning, miss. I’m Randy Trudeau and this is Chad Lightfoot from Were Watching,” Randy said, flashing his ID. “We’re here to see Crissy Carter.” He had to admit, she sure was a cute little thing, especially when she smiled. “Wow. That was quick. I’m Georgie, Crissy’s cousin. I made the call. Come on in. Crissy’s through here.” Chad grabbed Randy’s elbow and whispered in his ear, “Nix that on the swap, man. I’ll be getting the guided tour and checking the house with little Miss Georgie while you get the details from the client.” Randy snorted softly, a small grin crossing his face as he shook his head. So much for Ziggy’s warning. They followed Georgie down a long hall past a living room and a separate dining room painted an alarming shade of apple-green that had him shaking his head at the bizarre ideas some people had about interior decorating. The kitchen at the back of the house was a pleasant surprise, though, after the dimly lit confines of the hallway. Wide, open, a bright, sunny room full of cupboards and hanging pots and pans, filled with a cozy warmth, it was the kind of room a person just wanted to settle in and get comfy. Lots of timber. Hardly any of that stainless steel that was becoming so popular. Even though he loved to cook, he liked to feel relaxed about it—not like he was working in the kitchen of Broussad’s. It wasn’t hard to imagine this was where most of the visiting took place. However, the lady sitting at the table pulled him up fast. Every red corpuscle in his body flooded his cock so the thing damn near punched a hole in his jeans. Even around the bruises and the black eye, he’d know those pouty lips anywhere. He inhaled deeply. Hot cinnamon biscuits and melted butter. If he was deaf, dumb and blind and had his head stuck up an elephant’s ass, he’d know that scent and the lady it belonged to. Recognition sent his whole body on red alert. It was her. Well, halle-freakin’-lujah! He searched her blue eyes for some sign of recognition. Nothing. Not even a flicker. An unfamiliar flare of disappointment sucker-punched him in the gut. How could she possibly not remember him—them?

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Chapter Two “Hey, guys.” The lady eased herself off the seat until she was standing, an effort he could easily tell caused her a bit of pain, judging by the slight narrowing of her eyes and the clenching of her jaw. An urge to kill whoever was responsible surged through him—rip their head off and shove it down their throat for even touching her, let alone… He didn’t even stop to consider his reaction because she was speaking, and the soft sound of her voice stroked over him, and his body throbbed in response at every nerve ending along the way, all the way down to his toes, which curled inside his boots in response. “Crissy Carter. I’m guessing you’re the professionals Georgie contacted.” Tall. Yeah, he remembered that much. Compared to her tiny cousin, she was a giant, but still, he knew she was just the height to nestle against him with skin touching skin all the way from top to bottom. She had to be nudging five-eleven if she was an inch. And his hands remembered roving over the fit body underneath that denim miniskirt and T-shirt as if it were yesterday. All his senses were screaming at him. His nostrils flared, his hands itched, and his cock was beating at his zipper like it wanted to jump out and join the marching band. He licked his lips and, starting at the bottom, worked his way up, eyes roving up a pair of shapely tanned legs with strong thighs just made for holding a man in a killer clinch. He recalled running his hands over that ass especially well—it was a handful and a half…just how he liked ‘em. He’d spun a fantasy after that night that soon became a personal favorite, of her bent over, or kneeling—his dick didn’t care as long as it was behind her, lining up—with his hands braced on those generous hips so he could watch his cock sliding in and out, coated with her rich cream… He closed his mouth before the panting turned into drooling and he looked more doggie than human. He shoved his hands in his pockets in the hope the damn bulge wouldn’t be quite so obvious. Chad made a noise beside him, an awkward choking sound that he guessed was supposed to be a cough, but ended up sounding like he was trying to dislodge a fur ball. Randy quickly pulled his eyes up to her face. Shit, a man could get lost just taking in the view. “If you don’t mind me saying, Crissy, you didn’t call us a moment too soon. You look like one big bundle o’ hurt, honey.” But not hurt enough that he didn’t want to fuck her on the spot. “I’m Randy, by the way, and this is my cousin, Chad.” Randy was surprised he could still talk coherently considering the turmoil his body was in and the fact that all the blood had fled his brain to take up residence south of the border.

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He held out his hand, delighted when she took it, but rather than shake it, he leaned over and kissed it, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her rich exotic scent. His eyes closed as it swirled around his head, making him feel more intoxicated than after an all-night rum bender. Every hair on his body stood up like screaming antennae going off. Oh yeah, this was the lady, all right. Heart pounding at the way his senses were rioting, he struggled with the urge to yank her close and lick her from nape to knee. Instead he settled for a little taste test, just to be sure… Hidden by his lips, the tip of his tongue licked over a small patch of skin on the back of her hand. Hell yeah, only one woman had ever tasted that good. God, he remembered everything about her. Why the hell didn’t she remember him? The thought galled him. He raised his eyes to see her reaction, but rather than jerk away at the touch as he expected, she shook her head at him and laughed. Admittedly a little nervous-sounding, it was a warm, husky vibration that skittered down Randy’s spine and settled in his balls, pulling them up so tight he nearly groaned. Running an eye over house security wasn’t the only thing his glance was experienced at, and if he didn’t miss his mark, the bounty of breasts in front of him had to be about a 38DD. His mouth watered just thinking about wrapping his lips around the tight dusky nipples showing through the thin fabric of that T-shirt. And this time he planned on getting closer acquainted with those bundles of delight just as soon as possible—Ziggy could go fuck himself! “You know, Randy…” Feeling like a dying man about to be given the last supper, he dragged his eyes back up, fighting the urge to lick his lips. He felt like the big bad wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. Actually, in sounded like a real good idea… “…you and I will get on a whole lot better if you talk to my face and not my breasts, okay?” Behind him, Chad laughed. “Don’t mind my cousin, miss. Randy has this thing for br—” He choked off abruptly when Randy took half a step back and ground his heel into Chad’s foot. “F-for bruises.” “Come on, Chad,” said Georgie, trying unsuccessfully to cover a smile, “I’ll show you the house. Where do you want to start?” “Bedrooms sound fine to me, sugah,” he said and winked. The next hour passed with his questions and her answers, Randy barely managing to tamp down on his burgeoning lust long enough to string two words together. It wasn’t easy though. Those soft blue eyes that lit up and sparkled each time she smiled were a distraction. Damn, but she was gorgeous—bruises, eye with the shadow of purple just beginning and all. Getting her into bed and slipping his cock into the heat he could smell drifting up from her pussy was a foregone conclusion. No way was she

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getting away from him this time. And even if she was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t attracted to him, his nose told him different. Now he just had to make her realize it was going to happen, and no amount of avoiding it on her part was going to make a damn bit of difference. Wrenching his thoughts away from his cock, which wasn’t easy considering the damn thing had been pounding out an SOS since the second he’d touched her, he focused on one thing—she needed protection. More protection than a security system would afford her. She needed him—it was a task that had his name written all over it. From the pervasive scent still lingering even now, hours later, he was even more sure that at least a rogue were was involved. The wolf variety, he was positive—cats just had a different smell about ‘em. And if his suspicions were correct a vamp was hanging about as well, so no way was he letting her out of his sight until they’d found out what the deal was. The vamps he knew just didn’t mess with humans unless they were looking for a snack, and even then they didn’t go into somebody’s home. The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became that something just wasn’t right, that there was more to this than what met the eye. An old gray cat, big for a house cat but so seriously on the lean side he looked like a bag of bones held together by fur, came into the kitchen, interrupting his thoughts, and jumped up on Crissy’s lap, purring as it rubbed its head under her chin. He swallowed the snarl of distaste as Crissy rubbed her cheek against the top of its head. “You’re not one of those cat people, are you?” “I love cats,” she said and smiled, focusing his attention fully on her lips, “but I never had one until old Fatso here.” Randy swallowed a laugh. If ever an animal was misnamed, this was it. At least the woman had a sense of humor. “He came for a visit and just sort of stayed, didn’t you, baby,” she said, and hugged him. As much as Randy hated to do it, and only because he saw it as a means to get in her good books, he reached to scratch the old fuzzball under the chin. “Ow!” He jerked back when it hissed at him and scratched out at his hand, leaving a bright red welt over his wrist. “Oh, I’m sorry, Randy. He’s never done that before. Are you all right?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grumbled. Fatso was now sitting up on her lap and doing a smug kitty version of “I’m here and you’re not” gloat at him. Chad wandered back just then, alone. “Hey, old buddy,” he said, rubbing Fatso behind the ear. The damn cat pressed harder against Chad’s hand and let out a loud purr. “Well isn’t that strange…” said Crissy.

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“What?” Chad looked between the two of them, confusion apparent by the raised eyebrow. “Quite bizarre, actually.” She frowned as she put Fatso down on the floor, watching him rub up against Chad’s leg before padding away. “Randy just tried to pet Fatso, but he spat and scratched him. And yet you, he took to straight away. Do you have cats of your own, Chad? Maybe he can smell them on you…” Chad looked like he was about to bust a gut, and a loud laugh finally escaped. “I guess you could say Randy and cats don’t get along—no.” Randy dropped his head, fighting the urge to hit something. “Oh. Where’s Georgie?” she asked. “Said she had to go and teach a class, whatever that means. Said she’d drop back later. Randy, could I have a word with you for a sec?” Chad walked him back down the hallway, telling him in low tones what he’d discovered. His blood ran cold. This was some serious shit. Crissy was still sitting where they’d left her, about to take a sip of the fresh mug of coffee in her hand. “So, what’s the verdict, guys? It was random, right? Or am I a sitting duck for another attack?” “Right on the second option, babe.” Out of the corner of his eye Randy caught the confirming nod from his cousin.” “How so?” “My guess is, whatever they were looking for, they obviously didn’t get.” “They?” “Two guys, Crissy—one inside and the other one waiting outside. You were lucky you weren’t hurt worse. My professional opinion is that they’ll be back—nothing surer. And soon. Next time you might not be so lucky.” “And you need some sort of security system in here bad—like yesterday,” offered Chad. “An amateur could break in here with a nail file. Oh, and I found this outside in the bushes beneath the living room window.” He held up a knife with a bluish handle, and with a flick of his wrist, the four-inch blade sprang open. Hefting it in his hand, he tested the balance. “Semi-auto. This little baby don’t come cheap. Perfect for some nocturnal slicing and dicing. Not yours I take it?” he asked Crissy. “God, no.” “Didn’t think so. Nice. A Mad Maxx if I’m not mistaken. So whoever it belonged to, chances are he wasn’t here to prune the hibiscus.” Crissy looked visibly shaken. “Okay, I’m not stupid. Even I’ll admit I’m a bit freaked now. Suggestions?” “First off,” said Randy, “I’d consider getting a dog if I were you—”

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“No!” snapped Crissy, cutting off Randy’s words before he could finish, pushing her chair back quickly as she rose so that it teetered a moment before all four legs hit the floor again. “No dog. Absolutely. Dogs and I do not get along. I do not do dogs and that’s final.” Ignoring Chad’s laugh behind him, Randy grinned and folded his arms across his chest as he stared back at her. “Well then, babe, if you won’t get a dog,” he said and smiled wolfishly as she fell nicely into his trap, “I suggest you invite me to stay for a bit. Because this thing sure as hell ain’t over. They haven’t got what they came for, and they’ll be back. You can bet on it.” Leaning back against the kitchen doorjamb, arms crossed, Chad contemplated the interplay of emotions running between his cousin and Crissy, and couldn’t hide a grin. After Randy’s pronouncement, the two of them were spatting like an old married couple already, and Randy was barely half a step behind her the whole way round the kitchen while she was slamming cupboards and getting food out of the fridge. It had been a long time since he’d seen Randy get so hot and bothered and so damn alpha over a woman. The guy normally gave new definition to “laid-back”. But now it looked to him like Randy was already marking out his territory. What a turnabout. From the time they were teenagers, women had been throwing themselves at his cousin, and Randy had loved ‘em all. But the minute they started showing signs of getting possessive and diggin’ in the claws? He was outta there so fast he left a vapor trail. Yet now, he was sniffing all over Crissy like she was already the mother of his cubs, and she wasn’t having any of it… That thought settled with a thud. Well he’d be stuffed! Chad straightened and looked closer at Randy. Now that he really looked, the signs were unmistakable. His cousin wasn’t just turned on. The way his eyes were darkening, his nostrils flaring as he gripped the edge of the cupboard where he had her hemmed in, and leaning over her, ready to make her heel…he was about two seconds away from sprouting fur and taking her where she stood, although on her hands and knees would be more appropriate from the look on his cousin’s face. He’d seen it enough times over the years from other weres to sure know the signs. Weeell, doggie! If that didn’t beat all—a werewolf getting his balls in a knot over a woman who didn’t even like dogs… Laughter percolated through his chest, threatening to break free and Chad had to leave the room before he lost it completely! Crossing her arms over her chest, Crissy glared back at Randy. Actually, far from being intimidated by his bulk or pissed off, she was just a tad amused. The man reeked

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alpha male, and they were definitely the best sort to have fun with. Having him around could be interesting, if she could get Fatso to agree. She shoved against his well-muscled chest with her good hand, expecting him to step back. Which he didn’t. He merely tilted back from the waist up, which just pushed his groin into her so that she could feel every inch of that hot and very large erection of his pressing into the soft flesh of her tummy. Oh man! That was some pistol the man was packing. A wicked thought about itchy trigger fingers came to mind, and she had to bite her lip not to smile. “You find something amusing?” His light-brown eyes watched hers intently, flaring briefly as she took a deep breath, then they flicked down to her nipples before raising to her face once more. She knew they were hard. She could feel it, with an almost painful ache. Hard as rocks. And his wicked half smile just proved he’d noticed too. Damn man. Damn traitorous body. She tried to wiggle out from under him, but he only pinned her harder against the counter with his pelvis. She had to admit, it was a pretty darn effective way to hold a woman in place. It sure worked for her. Her laughter choked in her throat when he leaned in and sniffed at her, from her hair, down the long side of her neck and under her chin, inhaling deeply. Oh, Christ! She’d never had a guy so obviously smell her like that before, except… No, it couldn’t be! A thought that had been niggling at her since the moment Randy and Chad walked in flared to full prominence. Up until now she’d been too distracted to focus on it. But with Randy so close now it was hard to miss it. In the back of her mind, a hazy memory floated around, trying to gain substance. She sniffed too. And again. This time deeper. Oh, God, she could hear the bells and whistles going off. She knew that smell. Earthy, sweaty, so distinctively male, it made her want to— Shit! New Year’s Eve! Oh, crap! “Ahh…what-what did you say your name was?” “Randy. Randy Trudeau.” Her pulse skittered crazily over the last name. Double crap. A group of her girlfriends had been playing a harmless game of “kiss and tell”, mainly to see if one of them could get laid, since they’d all been without too long, even though for some of her friends’ “too long” was anything more than a month. They picked the guy, and the friend in question had to kiss him—whatever followed after that was just a bonus as far as they were concerned. It was a case of one too many vodkas under her belt, or she wouldn’t have been game. Hell, she hadn’t even known who he was when they pointed him out. Although they’d taken great delight in informing her the next day. Half the battle had been getting close enough to him—the man had a harem of hangers-on that would put a sheik to shame. Considering how he

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kissed—as she found out following an in-depth “getting to know you” with every taste bud in his mouth, that started on the dance floor and ended up in some dark corner of the bar—it was no surprise. She wriggled her hips again, trying to get free. It had taken her months and almost burning out her favorite vibrator to get her libido to calm down after that night. She sure as hell didn’t need to stir up that hornet’s nest again. “Don’t move,” he whispered, the deep, husky sound hitting her low down in her belly, setting off a succession of little electric zaps and zings all over her body as he leaned closer until there was barely an inch of breathing space between them. An inch that was getting smaller and smaller with every second. The warmth of his breath blew softly over her lips. God, what a temptation! She licked her lips. His eyes darkened to a warm brown as he licked his. She followed the trail of that tongue with her eyes, dying to— No! She pushed him harder. What was she thinking? Nope. No way. Not again. Those kisses were deadly! Besides, he’d slept with half her girlfriends. Probably all of them for all she knew. No way was she going to end up like them. Drooling over a man when he so much as looked their way. “If you’re thinking of checking out the results of my tonsillectomy, hot stuff,” she managed to whisper, “I suggest you make sure your health plan is up to date first. I’m not interested, and I go down fighting.” The fact that the words came out as little more than a husky croak made it sound pretty unconvincing, even to her ears, but she held up her bandaged arm as proof and to drive the point home rubbed her knee up his inner thigh, nudging pointedly against the swollen package pushing against his jeans. Randy chuckled, deliberately missing the point, and pushed against her knee, his eyes crinkling at the corners as the darkness faded, leaving them their normal light brown. “I sure hope you do go down fighting, babe, ‘cause I aim to put that to the test a little later on when we’re all alone.” She licked her lips. She only did that when she was nervous or agitated, and right then she was both. God, did he have to smell so damn good? Standing so close, her head was filled with the all-male scent—not even a hint of aftershave, just whatever was distinctively Randy—and it was making her hormones jump like popcorn over a high heat. “I’ll be back a little later with my stuff. You’ve got me for the duration, Crissy, so best make the most of it.” He tipped her face up so he was staring right into her eyes. “I’m really a nice guy once you get to know me.” He leaned over and brushed a lingering kiss along her cheek before he winked at her and turned away. “Later, babe…”

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She watched him leave the kitchen and head down the hallway and caught the cupboard as her legs weakened. No, that wasn’t a walk—it was a damn swagger. Confident. Arrogant. Hell, but what a tight butt! She could only imagine what it would look like naked, flexing… She bit her lip as he turned back, catching her eyes glued at hip level. “Y-yes?” “Lock the door after me, honey. No sense in making it too easy for them.” “Right. Got it.” She curled her lips in derision when he winked at her, but inside her tummy was doing little star jumps. Damn man. Now what was she going to do? To hear her friends tell it, he was the hottest thing in the sack since the invention of the double vibrator. The only reason she’d done the damn dare was to prove no man could kiss that well. They’d all been expecting her to fall the same way they had, straight into bed with him. Sure, she’d been tempted, seriously so, but no way would she give her friends the satisfaction of saying “I told you so”. Still, when he’d gone to get them both a drink, she’d seen her chance—her only chance—to get away. Part desperation and part self-preservation, she’d hauled ass out of there the minute his back was turned. Not to say that she wouldn’t have enjoyed the sex, but she figured Randy’s bedpost already had so many notches it looked like a nest of hungry termites had attacked it. At least her notch was noticeably absent. And then Neil had come along. Sweet, quiet Neil… What had she been thinking? Although, now that she thought about it, maybe Neil had been all about getting as far away from the sort of temptation Randy represented as it was possible to get. She sighed to herself. Two months they’d gone out, and he’d still been waiting for the “right moment”. Which didn’t do a whole lot for a girl’s ego. Randy, on the other hand, looked like he couldn’t wait to get naked with her. A whimsical smile lit her eyes as she imagined that body… On her bed, preferably. Or leaning over her. God, and what a fuck it would be. Feeling him sliding into her as he bit at her nipples… Hard and slow, filling her so full… Crossing her legs and tensing against the dampness she felt moistening her panties, she shook her head and groaned silently. She was screwed. Totally, completely screwed.

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Chapter Three “I must come and watch this one,” mused Chad, launching himself out of the wicker chair where he’d been waiting, and catching up with Randy as he strolled back across the road to his truck. Slipping his sunglasses down over his eyes, Randy pulled his mind away from Crissy and what thoughts about those hard nipples were doing to his peace of mind. “What? Watch what?” Chad shrugged back into his leather jacket. “You. When you tell Zig why it is you feel you have to stay with the luscious and very lickable Crissy.” Randy inhaled deeply to swallow the snarl. “Don’t be thinking about licking Crissy, cuz, unless you want to be lapping up your next bowl of milk through a straw. And you know damn well why I need to stay there. This is not a normal burglary—you can feel that as well as I can.” “So, it has nothing to do those big tits you were drooling over.” Randy yanked open the door of his truck. “None.” “Or that sexy ass.” One foot on the door runner, ready to climb in, Randy stepped back down and turned to face his cousin who was leaning casually against the side of his truck, thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. “Your point?” “Just checking out the ground rules, cuz. I might be interested myself. Let’s face it— at least her cat likes me. I’d say I’ve got half a foot in the door already. I think I should stay here with Crissy and you—” Grabbing both lapels of Chad’s leather jacket, Randy pulled him up close and glared. “Just keep your fucking hands to yourself and off Crissy, hear?” To his annoyance, Chad just smirked. “Oh, I don’t see why we don’t let the little lady make up her own mind. After all, unless you’re making a claim…” Chad freed himself and grabbed his helmet to put it on. Swinging his leg over the bike, he kickstarted it and said, “See you back at the office, man. Last one there…” The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar of the bike as he tore off down the street. No fucking way! Randy thought to himself. Goddamn cat! Picking up his cell phone, he called the office, grateful his brother answered the phone on the second ring. “Zig?… Just on my way back… Yeah, the situation’s not looking good—weres, possibly a vamp involved too, so I’ll be staying here until we get some solid answers… Uh-huh… Well, my suggestion is to have Chad working with Marcus…” Randy ran his free hand through his hair as he listened to his brother. “Look, I’m on my way back

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now. I’ll explain it all when I get there… Sure, be there in a few.” With a grin, he pressed “End” and snapped the cell phone shut. Starting up the truck, he pulled away from the gutter, leaning his arm on the sill of the open window as he drove down the road, singing along to a song on the radio.

***** When he strolled into the office ten minutes later, he laughed at the sour expression on Chad’s face. “You fight dirty, man. This ain’t over.” Randy snorted and bumped Chad sideways as they both walked into Ziggy’s office. “Okay, give it to me. What’s the deal over at the Carter place?” said Ziggy. “You mentioned on the phone you think some of our guys have been sniffing around. Give me the rest of it.” Randy looked at Chad, who just nodded as if to give him the lead. “At least one werewolf, possibly two, but the thing that bothers me…” he glanced at Chad again as if in confirmation, “is the other smell. I’m betting a vamp is somehow involved with this. But it doesn’t make sense. Why steal a human’s camera? What were they looking for in her house? And the woman can’t go another round, Zig, I’m telling you. She’s a walking advertisement for Blue Cross as it is. This whole thing is weird—it just doesn’t smell right.” “Not to mention, I found this little beauty.” Chad tossed the knife on the desk. “Being a little cavalier with the evidence there, aren’t you, Chad?” Ziggy raised an eyebrow at him. Chad snorted. “Maybe. If we were going to the cops with it. Which we aren’t. Right?” Ziggy shook his head, but then picked the knife up and flicked it open, whistling soundlessly as he turned it over and back. “Somebody meant business.” He closed the knife and handed it back to Chad. Crossing his hands behind his head, he leaned so far back in his chair, the springs protested. “So, what’s the plan? You’re staying there. Okay, that’s cool. Just remember my earlier warning, yes?” He paused and stared at Randy as if waiting. Randy just rolled his eyes and looked away. “But what else? Chad? What about you?” “Well, seeing as how I’ll have my nights free…” Chad looked pointedly at a smirking Randy, “I thought I’d give Marcus a call. He’ll know better than anyone if we’ve got a bloodsucker to contend with as well. And what type. We’ll probably swing by later tonight. But I agree with Randy on this one—those guys will be back. Too many things just don’t add up.” A faint smile lit Ziggy’s face. “I’m impressed. For once you two seem to be serious about something. From what you’ve told me, something strange is going on. Maybe the

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camera is a clue. Too much of a coincidence for the first guy to just be a simple mugger. Any idea what she’s been shooting? Who she’s worked for?” “She’s making me up a list,” said Randy. “I’ll start on that tomorrow.” “Okay, keep me posted and give me a yell if you need a hand.” Chad already had his cell phone out as they walked out of the office. Randy waited while he left a message on Marcus’ answering machine. When he flipped the phone shut, Randy said, “I’m going to follow up a couple of leads Crissy gave me. You wanna come?” Chad looked pensive for a moment, but then his expression cleared. “Yeah, why not. Let’s go.”

***** Settling his duffel more squarely over his shoulder, Randy raised his hand to knock on Crissy’s door and frowned when the door opened under his hand. Shit! He’d told her to lock it. What was wrong with her? His senses went on alert. Dropping the old canvas bag softly on the floor just inside the door, Randy pulled his Beretta out of the duffel, freeing it from its shoulder holster, and stepped down the hall, grateful for the carpet runner that muffled his steps, sniffing the air as he went. Slipping his head into each room, he moved swiftly down the hall and checked out every one. When he reached the laundry, a hiss greeted him as he woke Fatso, curled up on a pile of laundry, from a sound sleep. The old feline raised one eye and a corner of his lip, baring a tiny fang before he dropped his head down onto a towel and settled back into a sleep again. Mangy bag of fleas, thought Randy in derision. After uncovering nothing through a search of the lower floor, not even the owner of the house, a frown creased Randy’s face. True, nothing smelled off, but that didn’t mean much. Body tense, gun raised in front of him, he hugged the sides of the stairs as he moved up them, one at a time, freezing in place when one creaked under him. With a measured and careful tread, he started off again, taking a deep breath as he tested each step before putting his weight on it. At the top landing, four doors stood open. Deciding to just start with the nearest one first, he edged inside warily, his eyes scanning the darkened interior. At some point in the house’s history, it must have been the old nursery, judging by the décor—clouds painted on the walls with cartoon characters frolicking below. Right now, though, it was a junk room from the look of the boxes, some opened, some not, littering the floor space.

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He backed out as quietly as he entered and edged his way along the wall to the next doorway. Bathroom—peeling paint and cracked tiles—obviously in need of some renovation. But nothing else worth mentioning. The room next door was empty too, excluding the double bed, unmade, and a chest of drawers pushed up against the opposite wall. Well, Crissy had known he’d be back, so if the bed wasn’t made, it meant he just might be sleeping in the next room. Yeah, right. He could dream. Still, his body went rigid when he tipped his head around the corner of the doorway and took in the state of the main bedroom. A chill ran down his spine. Had the burglar come back in the short time he’d been gone? If he had, the open door downstairs would have been an open invitation. Whatever had gone on in there, it looked like she’d put up one hell of a fight. After seeing the decorating disaster downstairs, Randy had been expecting more of the same in Crissy’s personal space. He was surprised by an eclectic mix that, like the kitchen, just made it feel lived in, comfortable. Except for the fact that it looked like a tornado had gone through it. A chair was tipped over, clothes were hanging out of open drawers, over the old velvet couch positioned under one of the huge bay windows, the sheets were half pulled off the bed and touching the floor… He listened hard for any sound that might tell him if Crissy was still in there. Or hurt. Heart in his throat, he moved stealthily around the room, lifting a skirt here, a bit of silky underwear there with the barrel of his gun, his eyes alert, his senses charged. All that was left was a door, slightly ajar, off the bedroom. Pushing slowly on the door to open it, he was hit with a cloud of lavender-scented steam. The hand with his gun dropped as he took in the sight in front of him. If anything his heart started pounding harder. Oh, Jesus! Crissy, eyes closed, a beatific smile on her face, and every goddamn inch of her beautifully wet and naked. Full, tanned breasts offset by the whiteness of the bubbles, barely cresting the surface, dimpled knees peeking above the water—damn! It was just about the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. But it was about time she learned a lesson about security and safety. He crossed his arms over his chest, gun exposed, and leaned back against the door, the click as it shut sounding very loud in the serenity of the bathroom. “You really didn’t need to go to all that trouble, babe. Naked on the bed would have been just fine…” Her eyes blinked open. “What the hell—” Correction—now that was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Crissy sitting up straight, those mouth-watering tits bobbing with the movement, little cherry nipples all puckered and dying for a bite, blue eyes flashing—absolutely delicious! “Do you often barge into a woman’s bathroom uninvited? And what’s with the gun, James Bond? I’m not armed, no concealed weapons, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

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He curled his lip. Somehow it figured she wouldn’t be one of those women who would jump up screaming, trying to protect her modesty. Dammit. “Oh, trust me, babe, I noticed.” He placed the gun down on the vanity. “So, do you often take a bath and leave the house wide open for anyone to wander in?” “I didn’t—” “And your bedroom, Crissy…” Yes, that damn bedroom. Either she was the messiest woman on the planet, or she liked her sex rough. And while the thought of rough sex and Crissy made his cock twitch to get out and join the fun, it was the idea that someone else might have explored that particular pleasure with her recently that made him want to snarl. Subsequently, his words came out much harsher than he intended. “It looks like a fight…or something took place in there. Naturally I assumed…” Her reply was equally as snappy. “Okay, I’ll bite. You assumed what?” His cock jerked at the word “bite”. Yeah. That was something he was definitely looking forward to. She could bite him from here to Sunday and he’d lie there and lap up every nip and nibble. “You and I, we need to talk. Either you can get out of that tub, or I can join you in there… Personally, I’d go for the second option.” He started to undo the buttons on his shirt. “Whoa! Hold it right there, big guy. I’ll get out. Right after you leave.” He stifled a grin. “What? And miss the best part?” Turning, he noticed a little stool next to the vanity and planted himself down. “Nope, I think I’ll stay right here. Just in case you need a hand,” he said with a smirk. Damn, if her getting all pissy with him didn’t make him hard as a flagpole. “Nudity doesn’t bother me, you know.” “Glad to hear it, babe, ‘cause it sure as hell doesn’t bother me either.” Even so, he swallowed hard as she stood up, one eyebrow raised at him which was kinda cute, but the water streaming over and down her body in small rivulets had him stomping on an urge to close the distance between them and lick her dry, starting at her feet and not stopping until he reached those diamond-hard nipples. He yanked himself out of his daydreams when she moved to step out of the old claw-footed tub and slipped, throwing out her bandaged arm to save herself. In a flash, he was there, grabbing her around the waist before she could hurt herself further. Hot, wet skin touched him all the way down, soaking his clothes, but he didn’t give a damn. And when her good arm tightened around his neck to hang on, pressing those tits up against him, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Dipping his head to her neck, he inhaled the scent of lavender steaming off her skin. “Hmmm, you smell wonderful, babe. But I’ve just gotta know,” he nuzzled the crook of her neck, his tongue swiping out for a leisurely lick, “if you taste as good as you smell.” She shivered in his arms, and he smiled against her skin and nipped it lightly. “If you’re hungry, big guy, I’ll fix you a snack. But I’m not it.”

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Well, he reckoned she could fight it all she liked, but she was as turned on as he was—no doubt about it. He wasn’t imagining that sexy, breathy sound in her voice, or the scent of her arousal that even overpowered the lavender overdose filling the bathroom. “Randy?” “Hmmm?” “Are you going to lift me out, or are those arms just painted on?” “Just enjoying the moment.” God, he loved the way she sassed him. But the woman was a walking disaster. With a quick movement, he hooked a hand under her knees and swung her legs over the side. He lowered her legs, his hand enjoying the feel of hot silky skin as he ran it up the outside of her thigh to settle on her waist, still not prepared to release her. “You need a keeper, babe,” he whispered against her neck, not letting her go. A soft laugh shook her frame. “What? And I suppose you think you’re the man for the job?” He lifted his head and looked down into laughing blue eyes. “I know it.” Watching the play of emotions—laughter, disbelief and then the first pinkish blush of desire—flicker across her face, he tightened his hold, her body flush against him, and lowered his head until the heat of her mouth brushed against his. His tongue swiped a slow line along the seam of her lips before he settled his mouth on hers. Soft, sweet… His heart was racing. Slow…he needed to go slow. Now that he had her where he wanted her, he couldn’t risk spooking her. He nuzzled her lips, prodding and licking with his tongue until they parted under his. Yeah, c’mon, that’s it, babe. Let me in… A warm, wet tongue tentatively flicked out to meet his, and his cock jolted inside his jeans, his groin reflexively nudging hers. Releasing his hold on her waist, he reached up to cup her face with both hands, exploring her mouth, savoring the heat, deepening his touch, stroking and tangling with her tongue until he felt like he was on a first name basis with every taste bud. And man, the taste! Just like the other time. He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d fuck her right now if he didn’t have his damn clothes on. He was pondering how to divest himself of enough clothes to get inside her, when the little minx bit him! Playing with his tongue until she bit and sucked, holding him captive. Deep down in his balls he could feel the punch of response, like he’d been zapped with a red-hot poker. His skin tightened. A primal growl fluttered in his chest. He could feel the wolf inside him busting to break free. Did she know, did she have any idea what she’d done? Among his people, that was a signal a female was ready to mate. And while it had been done to him a few times before by females of his kind, it never had the reaction it had this time. The urge to turn

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her around, press her down, and force her submission hit him so hard it left him gasping. Oh, Jesus… He grimaced inside as he ate at her hungrily. His incisors ached. His cock ached. His whole fucking body ached to change. Control. Where the hell was his control? Skimming a hand down over her hip, he cupped a firm, well-rounded globe, palming it briefly before moving on. Running his hand along her thigh and lifting it, he wrapped it around his waist as he yanked her up hard against his throbbing erection, grinding them together, and a savage need rose up in him to taste more, feel more… Hell, he’d never lost it with a woman yet, but just the feel of Crissy, and he couldn’t hold on. His breath ratcheted in and out, burning a path to his lungs. One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand slipped between them and slid down the zipper on his jeans. Reaching up to his shoulder, he grabbed her hand, moving it back down until she wrapped her fingers around the pulsing shaft and caressed it from root to tip. “Christ! Feel what you do to me, babe.” With her hand encasing him, squeezing him, he kissed her again and again, savagely, swallowing the needy little moans escaping her mouth. More, he needed more! He wanted inside that hot channel, and he wanted it now! He dipped his knees, ready to slide on in, when a feminine little chuckle from behind him stilled them both. Crissy’s hand stalled, and pulling back a fraction, she broke the seal of their lips. Forced to relinquish his hold on Crissy’s mouth, he raised his head but didn’t miss the heavy-lidded blue eyes slowly opening under his, the rosy flush on her cheeks, or the way her breath stuttered as she tried to draw oxygen back into her lungs. His thumb reached across to wipe a soft line across the swollen, glistening skin of her lower lip. “Guys, I’ve gotta say, this is better than one of those X-rated DVDs—” “Georgie!” Crissy snapped. “Do you mind?” “Hell no. But I guess I can come back later if you like,” Georgie offered. “I just thought you might need help getting out of the bath, Cris, but I can see you’re doing just fine. Real fine, in fact. See ya downstairs. Oh, and don’t rush on my account,” she chuckled as she left. When her leg slid down over his butt to land on the floor, Crissy tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip on her waist and fought the urge to growl. “This isn’t over, babe, not by a long shot.” She smiled, a sexy little up-turn of her lips that made him crazy. “I need to get dressed, Randy.” He released her reluctantly and moved back a couple of steps, running his eyes down her body and back up again, pausing a moment on those breasts that had been

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pressed up against him only a moment ago, before looking into her eyes. “Not on my account. You look pretty as hell just like that.” Shaking her head in exasperation, she placed her hands on her hips. “Georgie?” He grinned. “Yeah, shame about her timing.” More than a shame, he could wring her scrawny neck! Grabbing a robe off the hook behind the door, he wrapped her in it, kissing her lightly on the forehead before releasing her. “Remember, we ain’t done yet.” “Just consider that a ‘thank you’ for helping me out of the bath. Now, if you don’t mind?” Her feeble attempt at brushing him off was about as effective as stopping a volcano from exploding by plugging it with a cork. With a laugh, he turned and grabbed his gun before he walked out the door. “I never mind, babe. Getting wet with you was the highlight of my day,” he threw over his shoulder.

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Chapter Four Georgie was sitting at the kitchen table when he got downstairs, and saluted him with a frosted bottle of beer. A second one was sitting on the table opposite, the condensation running down the side to pool in a little ring. “That for me?” he asked. She snorted and chuckled. “Yeah, well, I reckoned you might need something to cool yourself down.” He pulled up a chair and spun it around, cocking his leg over it so that he straddled the seat and leaned his arms on the backrest. Tipping the bottle back, he took a long, cold pull. She was right. He felt the chill and fizz of the amber liquid all the way down. It didn’t reach his cock though. Just the scent of Crissy lingering in his head and on his skin was enough to keep him hard as a rock. As he lowered the bottle to the table, he caught the assessing look Georgie was casting him. “Out with it, sugah. You got something on your mind?” “You could say that,” said Georgie, her green eyes narrowing as she looked at him. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a girl or a guy scratching an itch if the mood takes ‘em, but you hurt my cousin and, sugah, I’ll make damn sure you hurt, too.” He shrugged. “It was just a kiss.” A disbelieving laugh blurted out. “Honey, that was not just a kiss. That was a declaration if ever I’ve seen one.” Well, she had that right, at least. “And? You got a problem with that?” “Depends on what you’re declaring, I guess.” Her eyes narrowed and she assessed him before answering. “I did a bit of investigating of my own while I was gone, Randy Trudeau. You have quite an…ahh, amazing reputation from your former clients. The females ones, that is. Just remember what I said. If you’re just looking for a quick fu—” “Georgie!” Dressed now in a floaty, peach-colored sundress that did little to hide the fullness of the body underneath it, Crissy sailed into the kitchen, cutting off Georgie’s words with a snap and sharp look, and headed straight for the fridge to grab another beer. Georgie shrugged and smiled at him, but it never reached her eyes. The message was clear. For a tiny thing, she was a tough nut, that was for sure. Whichever man took Crissy’s little cousin on would definitely have his hands full. The moment passed and a cheeky look crossed Georgie’s face as she wiped the frosty dew from her bottle in long streaks with a finger. “Well now, ain’t this cozy? I honestly didn’t realize you had…ah…company, Cris, or I might have taken a bit longer

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coming back with the beer. You know, gone round the block a few times, taken a long drive down to Florida or something.” Crissy smirked. “Maybe if you’d gotten back a bit sooner, Mr. Super Sleuth here mightn’t have scared the bejeezus out of me coming into my bathroom with a gun in his hand…” “Is that what it was?” The look of innocence on Georgie’s face disintegrated as a burst of laughter bubbled up. Crissy glared at her, but Georgie just swallowed to stifle the remaining chuckles and turned to Randy. “Why the gun, hotshot?” “Try a wide-open door, for starters,” he offered. “And considering what’s been going on around here, I wasn’t taking any chances.” He turned to Crissy, fighting the need to pull her onto his lap and have her close. Instead she sat in the chair between him and Georgie. Which was too far away for his liking. “You damn near gave me a heart attack, woman.” “Sorry, that was my fault,” said Georgie. “I keep forgetting I need to slam that door to make the latch catch.” “Right. And that’s just one of the things that’ll be getting fixed. First thing tomorrow morning.” Georgie stood and slapped her hands down on the table. “So. Dinner. Crissy and I were planning on heading down to the new pizza place on Decatur. You wanna come?” “If it has lots of pepperoni,” Randy said, “sure. My treat.” Crissy jumped up. “No wa—” “Yes, thanks,” said Georgie with a big smile, cutting off her cousin. “That’d be great!”

***** Fortunately, Georgie only stayed long enough to down a couple of slices of pepperoni with extra cheese before she dashed off to her other job, leaving them alone at last. “How many jobs does that woman have?” he asked, making conversation. Crissy had been watching him intently for the last half hour. Not that he minded. He just wanted to know what was going on behind those baby blues. “She has two. But she volunteers at another place three mornings a week.” “Busy lady.” “Uh-huh. Look, let’s cut the cozy chitchat, shall we? This afternoon was an aberration. If you think you’re moving into my bed, you can think again. I know your type, Randy Trudeau, and I’m not going there.” “Oh? And what’s my type?”

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“Smooth. But you’re like a big kid in a candy store. So many lollies, you can’t pick just one. And you just want to try them all, don’t you? Well, not this lady. So, yes…” Her eyes ran down his body, the look of appreciation making his red blood cell count jump through the roof, before the startling blue orbs settled back on his face. “While I’ll admit the package is impressive…and the technique is pretty darn hot…just so you know, I’m not buying what you’re selling. Save your energy for someone who’s more likely to get off on it.” Randy wasn’t stupid. And even though he knew she was aroused—that was a particular scent of hers that was permanently imprinted on his brain—he knew enough about women to know that fighting Crissy with words right now just wasn’t going to work. Besides, maybe a small breather was what he needed too. God knows, when he was around her, all he could think about was fucking her, and this time…this time, dammit, he wanted more. “Okay, then.” He stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, shrugging into it. “What say we walk back home along the river. It’s a nice night.” Holding out his hand, he waited for her to stand. He wasn’t surprised when she ignored it and headed over to the cash register. But his hand darted out and grabbed hers the minute she got her wallet out of her bag. “No way, Crissy. It’s on me, remember.” She rolled her eyes at him and walked away, waiting for him outside the door. God, as if her life wasn’t enough of a mess already. Sneaking the odd glance at Randy as they strolled back to her house, she wasn’t really surprised by just how…safe, she felt with him. His presence was so tangible, even when he wasn’t touching her, which for once he didn’t seem to be trying to. Although he was close enough, either by design or accident—she couldn’t work out which—that they kept bumping together as they walked. And he was easy to talk to when he wasn’t trying to do the whole alpha-male-sexgod thing. He had a great laugh—deep and throaty, warm. And hell, the man was a walking stick of dynamite. A big stick. And a big fuse to go with it, now that she’d had the proof of it in her hot little hand! But he was just as dangerous. If rumors could be believed, the man took sex to new heights. More than one of her girlfriends was still love-struck—or, more accurately, sexstruck—over him. After that little interlude in the bathroom earlier, she could see how easily that could happen and she had no intention on being one more to add to his list. The man went through women like water through a sieve. No, she’d have to keep her head around him. Or try to. No matter how hot he made her. Like earlier. What the hell was that? That was beyond, way, waaay beyond any previous experience. She’d never thrown herself at a man like that—ever. She’d all but climbed inside him. And the size and weight of him in her hand. Whoa mama!!

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She shook her head to clear it of the erotic images, the memories of just how good it had felt. Maybe it was too long without good sex. Or any sex, for that matter. That must be it. But she was looking for more than a quick romp. She was getting too old for that. She wanted sex to mean something. And Randy Trudeau was not the man to give it to her. Deep in thought, not watching where she was going, her next step brought her smack dab, straight into a brick wall. At least it was solid enough to pass as one. Except this one was warm and smelled like all things forbidden. She felt Randy’s hands settle on her shoulders, and lifted her head, looking into a concerned pair of eyes. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind, babe?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper. Like answering that honestly wouldn’t get her into more hot water. She shook her head. “Okay then, you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, but you let me know when you do. Maybe I can help, eh?” When he was more than half the problem? Not likely. He wound his arm around her shoulder and hugged her as they walked down Esplanade back to the house. And for now, she let him. Fatigue was starting to hit her. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since the first attack, but now she could hardly muffle the yawns. Even though she should push him away, right then he was warm and good to lean on, and she just didn’t have any energy left to fight. Arm tightening around her shoulder, Randy slowed their pace to a crawl, two doors down from her house. Sniffing the air, he stopped and looked around. “What?” she asked, her words low. Feeling the tension ripple through his body, all her senses went on alert and the weariness of moments before disappeared behind the pump of adrenaline through her body. “I don’t know. Give me a minute.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Where’s your car?” “Around back. In the garage. Why?” She tried to ignore what the heat of his breath tickling her ear was doing to her. “Too far. Too dark. And I don’t want you heading around there without me. Just stay close. You got your cell phone?” “Always. In my bag.” “Get it out now. If something happens, I want you to call Chad. He’ll get here faster than the cops anyway.” He waited until she had it in her hand and the little screen lit up to let him know it was turned on. “Five-three-three…” “What are you doing?”

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“Giving you his number.” “Oh, that’s okay. I already have it on speed dial. He gave it to me this afternoon.” “When?” “He called me. Why?” She heard a mumbled curse leave his lips. “Never mind,” he grunted. “Just hold on to it.” They reached the tall oak outside her house, sheltering behind its limited cover, and watched as two black shadows peeled themselves away from the side of the house. Randy slipped Crissy around behind him, holding her there with his left arm as his right hand reached inside his jacket for his gun. “Hold it right there,” demanded Randy. The figure moved closer into the flickering arc of the single streetlight, at the same time Randy swore as a familiar scent hit him. “Christ, Chad! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You got no brains? I could’a shot you, man.” “Nah, I move too fast and you shoot too slow.” He chuckled. “Chad?” said Crissy, wriggling around in front of him. The big smile that lit her face made Randy want to snarl. So did the quick hug she gave his cousin. Hell, he felt like he had to push for every one he got, and she was just handing them out to the cat, free as you please. Arms wrapped around her, Chad looked over her shoulder at him and smirked. She tilted her head back. “What’re you doing here?” she asked. Randy eased her out of Chad’s arms and back up against his chest, his arm around her waist, anchoring her. He didn’t miss the wink Chad threw Crissy though. His lip curled in warning. “Just keeping an eye on things. Wasn’t sure how distracted the big guy here would be.” Randy snorted. “I’m on it, man. Who’s that with you?” He peered into the darkness, sniffing as he did so. “Marcus? That you?” A familiar tall figure, dressed impeccably as usual in grey Armani, stepped into the small pool of light. “Most certainly. Hello, Randy. And this…” he took Crissy’s hand and leaned over it, brilliant cerulean eyes flashing with mirth as he kissed it briefly, “must be the lovely Crissy. A pleasure to meet you.” Those eyes of Marcus’ were the killer. He’d seen too many women fall under their spell not to have considerable respect for their impact, and braced himself for Crissy’s reaction.

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“Hello, Marcus. Nice to meet you too,” she said, tossing a quick glance over her shoulder at Randy and smiling before returning her attention back to Marcus. “I can see you guys must have all gone to the same charm school.” Marcus shrugged, a small self-deprecating movement. “Well, I have tried to give them both the benefit of my experience, but you would have noticed they are both still a little…ah…rough around the edges, yes?” His eyes held hers intently. Randy held his breath, waiting for the vamp-voodoo pheromone thing to take effect on Crissy, ready to yank her back to his side and break the spell. But no reaction. Randy suddenly remembered to breathe. But what the…? Even though weres weren’t affected, even he’d felt the mesmerizing pull of Marcus’ vamp magic. Crissy laughed out loud, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, I like you, Marcus. So, y’all coming in for some coffee?” Marcus looked quizzically at Randy as his surprised query penetrated Randy’s mind. Have you marked her, my friend? Randy, who felt a satisfying urge to smirk at Crissy’s reaction, or lack of, to Marcus, shook his head. She had to be the first female he’d met who didn’t melt into a puddle at Marcus’ feet. Strange… She is not affected. You are sure…? Randy just glared at him in answer. Hell, if he’d marked her, it’d hardly be something he’d be likely to forget. Unless… Nah, he would have remembered. Surely. “An invitation too enticing to refuse,” said Marcus, breaking into his thoughts, and offering Crissy his arm. Shit. Marcus’ nights were everyone else’s days—this could take hours. So much for time alone with her. They might as well invite the whole damn street in and bake chocolate chip cookies while they were at it. “I didn’t think coffee was on your list of beverages, Marcus.” Randy watched as Crissy and Marcus walked up the steps to the front door. He turned back, baring his teeth for just a second so his fangs showed briefly before retracting, and winked. “I make allowances—on occasion.” Taking the keys from Crissy, he opened the door for her and allowed her to precede him into the house. “After you…” Watching Marcus and Crissy head inside, Randy pulled Chad aside before they followed. “Anything?” For once Chad looked serious. “Oh yeah. Like we thought. Worse than we thought. A vamp was here last night. And Marcus tells me it was one of the old guys. Which ain’t good. That means this was about more than just a midnight snack. Until they control that ache in their fangs, those young vamps only think with their goddamn stomachs. But if it’s an old guy, and he’s using some furries to help him, this sounds bigger than him ducking out for a bit of fast food, if y’know what I mean…” “Any chance Marcus can do a bit of snooping around his crowd?”

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Chad turned and walked up the steps. “Yeah, he’s on it. Soon as we leave here.” “Good. I don’t like the feel of this. Not at all.” He pulled on Chad’s elbow before they hit the kitchen. “Hey! And what’s with you giving Crissy your goddamn phone number?” Chad laughed. “All part of the service, man. Just makin’ sure she’s covered.” He grabbed Chad’s arm again. “Whatever you’re thinking, just forget it. The lady is taken.” Chad turned to him, pointedly staring at the hand on his arm. “Not yet, she ain’t. I say we let the lady make that decision, don’t you? And may the best man win.” He shook off Randy’s hand and walked off, whistling. Shit! When Randy joined them in the kitchen, it looked like the tea at the Ritz. A shopbought cake on a plate, and all those little china cup and saucer doodads… And Marcus, smooth as they come, sitting there with his legs crossed and his damn pinky sticking out looking like Sir Walter Raleigh having tea with the Queen. It was amazing how many women he roped in with all that Latin charm and supersmooth junk. He’d shared a woman with Marcus. Just once. Chad had a few times, he knew. And people reckoned weres were bad. The man could screw all night without taking a break. Maybe it was in the blood…or something he drank…or in Marcus’ case, both. Whatever it was, he could make a mint if he bottled it. It’d put Viagra right out of business. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Head tipped back, Crissy was trying, unsuccessfully, to massage the back of her neck. Moving behind her, he lifted the long silky fall of honey-blonde hair to the side and started running his thumbs up her neck and massaging her shoulders until she shut her eyes and dropped her head back against him, landing square on his cock. He gritted his teeth—the initial discomfort was worth it for the little moans she let slip. “O-kay. I think that’s our cue, Chad.” Marcus stood. “The lady is tired and needs her sleep. And you and I have work to do.” Crissy opened her eyes and offered him a tired smile. “And what work do you do, Marcus?” “I am a man of mystery, dear lady.” He winked. “You go get a good night’s sleep. We’ll keep watch. Don’t worry.” Hearing the front door click, Crissy yawned and stretched, patting Randy’s hands as she stood. “Thanks for the massage, Randy.” “Anytime. You head up, Crissy. I’m just going to check the outside of the house, make sure everything is as secure as it can be until we get those locks fixed.” “I’ll make up the bed in the spare room—” “That’s not necessary.” 40

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She spun around, exasperation and tiredness fighting for dominance. “I meant what I said, Randy. You’re not sleeping with me.” A half grin tinged with a hint of…what was it—regret?—tipped up the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for the reminder, babe, but I’m not sleeping. Period. I’m meant to be watching out for you, remember.” She felt a bit nonplussed. Somehow she’d been expecting a bit more of a fight about the whole thing. “Oh. Well…good. Thanks.” Before she climbed the stairs, she grabbed a blanket and a couple of pillows out of the hall cupboard and stacked them on the end of the sofa in the living room, just in case he changed his mind through the night. After she’d brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth, she wandered back downstairs to check her messages. She noticed Randy still hadn’t come back in. She picked up a pen and pressed the Play button. “…Yeah, it’s Pete. Pick up, Cris… Look, I’m heading down your way next month. Can I bunk with you? It’ll be for about a week. Call me, okay? Love you.” With a grin on her face, she waited for the next message. “…Crissy honey? You there? It’s Jerry. Call me, willya? Looks like we’re on for tomorrow night and I’ll be needing your special talents. Later, doll…” She jotted down a message to make sure she got her old camera charged up, seeing as how her new one was now long gone. “…Crissy? Sweetheart? I’m sorry I missed you. I was hoping we could talk.” Pause. “It’s…it’s about the other night. If I did something wrong, tell me. I’ll make it better… Look, I’d rather not discuss it on the phone. Maybe tomorrow? Just let me know and I’ll be there. Call me. Please?” “Exactly how many men do you have in your life, Crissy?” Crissy jumped at the dark voice behind her and spun round. Randy was standing close—real close—and looking…well, if she had to put a word on it, it would be dark, angry. “Randy! Do you have to creep up on me like that?” “Well?” “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” “Your safety is my concern. That means I need to know which people to cross off my list of suspects. Who were those men?” It was hard to believe the dark, brooding man looming over her was the same man who’d been giving her a massage in front of company only moments ago. Arms folded over his chest, he looked bigger, darker…almost scary. “They’re all harmless, trust me—” “I’ll be the judge of that.” “Fine. My brother, the guy I do some freelance work with when he needs a photographer, and…and…Neil.”

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“And who or what is Neil?” “Neil is…kinda…well, my boyfriend…or not.” Okay, that just sounded dumb. “Yes or no, babe. Which is it?” “Yes. I mean, no… Oh, go take a hike, Randy.” “You don’t sound real sure. And are there any others I should know about?” “What? You think I have men tucked away everywhere?” “I don’t know. Do you?” “Why you!” What a nerve! She reached up to slap his face, but her wrist was caught in a steel grip before it ever reached its target. “And this Neil… Do you love him? I think not, considering you kinda can’t decide what he is to you.” She struggled against his hold, not because she wanted to get away, but because she was a half a breath away from jumping him. Without him even being aware, he’d just hit her “on” button. Tall, sexy and dominating. Everything that Neil wasn’t. “Does he make you burn, babe?” He yanked her arm behind her, jerking her body roughly up against him.” A little domination fantasy she’d had for years was coming true, and now that it was, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. His free hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place, while he lowered his mouth and kissed her. Hard. His mouth was hungry, seeking, relentless. “Does he make you wet when he kisses you?” His tongue pushed inside her mouth, lips moving wildly over hers. Possessive. Dominating. At first she tensed. Fought it. Fought the burgeoning need. God, the craving. Until his mouth softened. Became caressing, seductive. Coaxing her. Teasing. And when his arms moved to surround her, a splayed hand fanning out over her buttock to jerk her solidly against the heated, pulsing length of his erection, she instinctively widened her stance, feeling the warmth and wetness flow. When he tore his mouth from hers, leaving her gasping for breath, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he held her at arms length. “Bed. Now. Before I lose what’s left of my control and fuck you where you stand.” Some misguided touch of bravado flickered through her, forcing words from her mouth. “In your dreams, big guy.” Spinning on her heel, she headed for the stairs, her heart pounding out a staccato beat with every step. But he was right, damn him. No man could make her burn like he could, and with just a kiss.

*****

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Sometime during the night, she wasn’t sure what time it was or, upon reflection, even if she dreamed it, she woke and opened her eyes. There, in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains, she saw Randy slouched on the couch, one leg hanging over the back of it, looking out the window with a pensive expression on his face. Her heart and her body clenched as she watched him. Without a doubt, he really was the most magnificent-looking man. With that long, sun-streaked hair, tanned skin and broad shoulders, he could pass for a guy more at home on a surfboard than anything else. But it was the eyes that did it to her every time he looked at her. Like he could see into her soul and read every thought she had. As if he sensed her watching him, his head swung around slowly and he looked right at her, a faint smile crossing his face. Standing, he took a few long strides to the bed and sat down beside her. Her heart sped up as he reached out a hand and brushed the wispy bangs back off her face. “Go back to sleep, babe. The night is quiet and I’ll be right here.” The continual gentle caresses made her eyelids heavy, leaden, and as much as she fought it, they closed. Did she imagine the soft kiss that feathered across her lips a moment later?

***** When she opened her eyes again, the sun was streaming in through the sheer lacy curtains. The smell of coffee filtered up the stairs. Surely Georgie wasn’t here already? But then Georgie would be the last person on the planet to brew coffee. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was still too early for her cousin to be up and about anyway. Which meant Randy must be responsible for the coffee she could smell. Randy. Sitting up in bed, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it around to the side, and plaited the long strands into a loose rope as the memory of the night before came back to her. She must have dreamt it. Had to. The Randy Trudeau she knew of would have been in the bed, not sitting beside her, stroking her forehead and kissing her softly. Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, she padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower, stepping in when the tendrils of steam drifted around the curtain. Refreshed and fully awake, she chastised herself for her fanciful thoughts. No way. Now the man was haunting her dreams as well. Still, as she left her room, she wandered over to the couch, running her hand over the soft red velvet. And there, in the middle of the old seat, a depression…

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Chapter Five “Wow! That smells fantastic, Randy. You got any other hidden talents?” Randy turned, the cheeky grin on her face feeding the hunger he was feeling this morning—and not for food. The night had been long. Too long. “Just say the word, babe, and I’ll let you have a taste of all of them.” He winked at her. This morning she had on soft faded jeans that showed off her long legs and a sheer blouse that teased and hinted at the lacy bra underneath. His mouth watered. Damn, he had to get over this obsession with her breasts. As if reading his mind, she laughed. “I think for now I’ll settle for a taste of whatever you have cooking there,” she said, trying to peek over his shoulder. “It’s only coffee and sweet rolls.” He turned with the plate he’d been piling high and put it on the old wooden kitchen table. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Yeah, right. Like a crummy roll was going to fix what was ailing him. He grabbed a couple of mugs and handed them to her. “Can you get me one too?” He nodded at the coffeepot. “It’s freshly made.” Screwing the tea towel up into a ball, he tossed it onto the counter before pulling up a chair and planting himself down. “So, what’s on your agenda for today?” Taking the milk out of the fridge, she lifted it questioningly at him, but he shook his head, and she poured a dash in her own cup followed by a spoonful of sugar, stirring as she pondered. Fatso, the anorexic furball, came into the kitchen then and rubbed up against her, looking for a scratch behind the ears. He’d tried to make nice with the damn cat this morning and had another wound for his trouble. “Well, I better find out what Jerry wants, and then I have to run a few errands—go see the editor of that new chic mag. I think she might have a celeb story coming up she wants me to shoot. Phone calls—usual stuff.” “You going to see this Jerry-guy? Maybe I should go with you…” Maybe he just shouldn’t let her out of his sight, was what he should do. “No, I’m not going to see this Jerry-guy. I’m going to phone him. Happy?” He grunted. He’d be happier if she didn’t speak to any guy who called her “doll” at all. “You got that list of recent jobs for me to look over?” “I’ll do that right after breakfast.” Breaking a roll in half so that the soft scent of spice escaped with the steam, she took a bite and moaned, the sexy sound enough to make him grit his teeth. Nope, a lump of spicy bread definitely was not doing the job. He’d be better off tearing the sole off his shoe and biting down on the leather to stop him from grabbing her ‘round the waist, and planting her right over his cock—just as soon as he stripped them both naked. 44

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“They’re really great, Randy. Where’d you learn to make them?” “From my mom. Old family recipe.” “What’s that flavor? I can’t pick it.” “Cinnamon.” If he’d known how to cook any other sort, he’d have done so—the smell of baking cinnamon biscuits was too damn close to her intoxicating scent. Consequently, he’d been stumbling around the kitchen with a massive hard-on for the last fifteen minutes. “That’s it—cinnamon.” She swallowed, humming her delight, and took a sip of her coffee. “How about you? Didn’t you say something about changing the locks?” “Yeah. The locksmith will be here in about a half hour. I called him early.” “So does that mean you won’t be staying here tonight?” He reached for her hands, surprised when she actually set them in his and didn’t immediately yank them away. How to tell her? How much to tell her… And if he told her the truth, he’d have to tell her about himself as well and he wasn’t sure he or she was ready for that. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable about his fur—far from it. He was proud of his heritage. But out of all the females who’d seen that side of him, none of them had been human. It had never been a problem holding it back, either. Until now. But he needed time to prepare her. Especially after yesterday. Something told him there might come a time with her—soon—that he wouldn’t be able to stop the animal. After that little goodnight kiss, it had been on his mind all night. “Look, Crissy. All jokes aside, I don’t mean to frighten you, but like I said yesterday, Chad and I both feel that this is a whole lot more serious than a mugging and a random break and enter. Considerably more. I’ll be here until we’re sure the threat to you is removed.” He reluctantly let go of her hands and walked over to the coffeepot for a refill. “So does that mean you want to follow me around today as well?” He leaned against the counter and took a sip of the strong, hot brew. “As much as I’d love to, I think the threat is more likely to come after dark.” “Why?” “Because the kind of, er, criminals we think we’re dealing with work best after dark.” Wimp. “Oh.” “I’ll check out that list of yours, go see what, if anything, Chad’s uncovered, and come back and catch a few hours shuteye. But if you come home before I get back, I want you to lock the doors, okay?” She rolled her eyes at him. “I mean it. No chances until we know for sure what we’re dealing with. Promise me.”

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“Okay, okay. I promise.” “Good.”

***** Leaning against the wall next to the door, Randy rang the bell again, smiling and waving at the cute little number who lived in the house next to Chad’s. She was gardening—again. Normally he appreciated the tight little short-shorts and the skimpy midriff tops, but today it left him unimpressed, thoughts of a tall blonde with twice as much of everything filling his thoughts. After ringing one more time, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching and the door was opened to reveal a sleepy, tousled and very naked Chad. “About time,” Randy complained. He shut the door after him and followed Chad through to the kitchen. “You get many chicks that way?” “Huh?” “Flashing them like that.” “There you go—you’ve learned the secret to my irresistible charm and unbelievable success with women.” “Uh-huh. So, you alone?” Chad scratched his chest absently as he stood in front of the open fridge and yawned. “Yeah. Unfortunately. Marcus and I spent most of the night sniffing around the haunts seeing what we could find. Didn’t get in ‘til nearly dawn.” “Find anything?” “Maybe. Nothing definite. Just rumors here and there.” He held up the juice carton as he searched on the sink for a glass that looked passably clean. “You want some?” If anyone needed a woman to look after him, it was Chad. Randy figured he’d live a lot longer if he didn’t eat or drink at Chad’s house. “Nah. Already had breakfast. What sort of rumors?” Chad took a deep swallow and sighed, jerking his head in the direction of the living room. Once he’d flopped into a green velvet armchair, he continued. “Well, this is where it doesn’t make sense. All we’ve been able to find out so far is that there’s a photo that a pretty big somebody wants to make sure doesn’t reach the light of day. Real bad.” Randy picked up the unstable pile of roughly folded washing and placed it on the coffee table, clearing a space to sit on the lounge. He could just imagine Crissy and Chad sharing a house—it’d be like the aftermath of an atomic bomb going off. “How do you know it’s a big somebody? You got a name? A whisper?” “No, but word is some big dollars were offered for its ‘retrieval’. And we heard from one source that some talent was brought in from outta state to…ah…help.” “That’s not so good. West Coast or East?”

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“East. And we also hear it’s become a personal thing. They don’t just want the photo—they want Crissy too.” “They? Who the hell is they? And why?” “Don’t know, don’t know, but we’re working on it. One of Marcus’ young guys has a lead he’s checking out for us.” “So is that where the vamp comes into it?” “Who knows?” Chad shrugged. “Maybe it’s his photo.” “That’s not much to go on.” “Tell me about it.” Chad yawned and stretched. “Marcus and I are going to do some more checking out tonight. His kid is meeting us at Baby Blues.” Baby Blues was a jazz and blues nightclub in the Quarter. It made sense. Not only was it frequented by a lot of weres and vamps, but it was owned by a consortium of them—Marcus being one. But then Marcus had a finger in every money-making pie in town. Randy stood to leave. “Where you heading now?” asked Chad. “I’ll finish checking out these last three contacts on Crissy’s list and then I’m heading back to her place to sleep.” “Oooh, keep you up all night, did she?” “I was guarding her, remember?” “No reason you can’t do that from under the covers.” Chad waggled his eyebrows. Randy laughed. “Yeah, well maybe I just have a bit more finesse than you.” “Finesse!” Chad snorted in derision. “Uh-huh. She’s got your number, man. Face it. Move outta the way and let a master…” he blew on his knuckles and rubbed them on his bare chest, “do his stuff.” “Yeah, I’ve seen some of your moves. You’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer.” “Hey, the chicks like it. They get a kick outta bringing the animal out in me.” “Go back to sleep, Chad. You’re still dreaming.” He smirked and turned to leave, calling out as he opened the door, “Maybe I’ll catch you later.”

***** After a quick shower, just long enough to steam out a few kinks from the previous night on the couch in Crissy’s room, he sprawled out on the sofa downstairs, this time lying down instead of sitting up. His feet hung over the edge, but he’d tough it out. No way was he using that damn bed in the spare room. There was only one bed he’d be using. He was quite prepared to wait. When he woke a few hours later, the sound of talking in the kitchen alerted him to Crissy’s presence. How in the hell had she come in without him hearing her? The

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woman made enough noise usually to startle a slumbering hippo. That wasn’t good. If she could slip by him, then anyone could. Maybe he’d been more tired than he thought. Swinging his legs over the side, he stood and stretched, feeling the pop and click all along his spine. What he really needed was to go for a long run, preferably on four legs, not two, but that wouldn’t be happening until this thing with Crissy was done. He didn’t plan on leaving her alone that long. Leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his bare chest, he watched Crissy on the phone. She hadn’t noticed him. She’d changed out of the jeans she had on earlier, and though he loved the way the denim had hugged her ass, the sight of her long, firm thighs bared by the short, little bit of a dress made his mouth water. As she stood there twirling a blonde lock of hair around her finger while she talked, he felt a sharp stab of jealousy at the familiar way she spoke to whoever was on the other end. “…okay, hon, but I’ve got to go… Forget it! I am not wearing that… I don’t care, you jerk. Look for me in a burlap sack.” She laughed, the sound relaxed and husky. “Nine o’clock. Yes. I’ll be there. Bye, Jerry.” Jerry. From the sound of Crissy’s voice, Randy wondered if their relationship had ever been anything other than professional. One thing was for damned sure—he’d be meeting Jerry tonight. No way was he letting Crissy out of the house without him.

***** “So this is all of them for the last…what? Three weeks?” “Four, actually.” They’d spent the last three hours huddled over her laptop on her coffee table, going over prints, negatives, looking at photos—nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, nothing, certainly, that seemed to warrant the attacks on her. “What about the other camera, the one that was stolen?” “Noth—” She smacked her forehead. “God, what an idiot! Of course.” She jumped up off the lounge and grabbed her handbag. Withdrawing a little plastic case with a small black disc inside, she held it up triumphantly. “Ta daaaa!” “What’s that?” “This is the memory card from the new camera. I always take the card out of the camera after a shoot and slip in a blank one. Just a habit of mine.” Sitting in front of her laptop, she inserted the card and clicked the mouse, bringing up the photos from that night. “Where were these taken?” he asked, as he took the mouse from her and backtracked over a few of them. “Baby Blues. I go there at least once a week. There’s always something happening, and I can usually get some shots for the social pages of the Women’s Weekly.” He pointed to a photo. “I don’t recognize this. Where is it?”

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She leaned against him to get a better look. “That’s the Blue Room, out the back of Baby Blues.” “Yeah, I know the one. Just never been inside.” “They had a function in there. I wandered in by mistake, took…oh, I don’t know…about half a dozen shots before this guy with a serious five o’clock shadow came over and escorted me out. He was nice enough about it—but very firm. I’m heading back there tonight with Jerry.” “And me.” “Yeah, shadow,” she teased, bumping his shoulder, “and you.” “See anyone in there you recognized?” “Not really. I did notice it was all men though.” “And they made a beautiful woman like you leave? Must have been a meeting of queers.” She laughed. “Well there was some nice-looking eye candy in there, so if they were, it just goes to prove that the best ones are either gay or married.” Randy leaned closer, the grin on his face an adorable blend of cheeky and sexy. “I’m neither gay nor married, beautiful.” She chuckled. “You think I’m going to touch that, you’re crazy!” “So touch something else…” He waggled his eyebrows. “I promise not to bite.” She shook her head and laughed, and then closed the lid on her laptop before leaning back on the sofa. “You never give up, do you?” “True. The best ones never do until they get what they want.” Her smile dropped a little when he turned fully to face her, his expression suddenly serious. “So what’s wrong with me, Cris? What don’t you like about me?” “I do like you, Randy, and there’s nothing wrong with you. You and I just don’t fit.” “I think we fit very well. We’ve already proved that.” “I don’t mean like that, silly. I mean, where it really counts. We want different things.” “Like? What do you want?” He settled in beside her, propping himself sideways so he could watch her, wanting desperately to touch her, but holding back. She was finally talking to him openly and the last thing he wanted to do was distract her. “You really want to know?” “Yes, I really want to know.”

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“Okay, then.” She bit her lip, mulling over her thoughts before she started. “I want to be with a man and know he’s mine, the same way that I’m his. To be able to connect with him on every level—mentally, physically, emotionally…” “And?” “And I want kids. Lots of them. Or I did. I might have to review that part. I’m not exactly twenty anymore.” The silence hung heavy in the air between them. His lack of response probably gave her the wrong idea. Considering his history with women, her version of heaven should have been enough to have him tearing for the hills. What scared the crap out of him was the dawning realization that he wanted it too. “See? No fit anywhere.” “You might be surprised about that.” “Uh-huh.” Her tone was heavy with disbelief and she made no effort to hide it. “I mean it. Maybe,” he looked at her squarely, his expression intent, “I just hadn’t found the right woman.” A corner of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “From what I hear, you’ve certainly been looking hard enough. Is there any woman in town you haven’t slept with?” “One—in particular.” With a finger under her chin, he turned her to face him. “And I suspect she may be the one I’ve been searching for.” “Nice line—” “It’s not a line, Crissy. Do you…” He ran a hand up and down her arm, before leaving it to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you remember last New Year’s Eve?” All she had to do was say no. If she could deny what had passed between them then, he’d drop it. But the skin on her cheeks blushed, the heat spreading down her neck as she bit her bottom lip. He knew it! He ran a finger down her nose and across her lips, catching her chin in his fingers. This time when he kissed her, his lips played over hers like a feather—teasing, cajoling, tender. “I thought so. Do you know how long I searched for you after that night? Not even a name. Nothing to go on. You just disappeared.” “I didn’t want to be one of the many—” “You aren’t.” Lowering his head again, he pressed a kiss across her lips. “Never were.” Another one, deeper this time, making her heart pound. “Never will be.” Without leaving her lips, he lay her back on the sofa. He edged over her, settling his body against her, hemming her in.

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She closed her eyes and trembled as he licked and nibbled a path up her neck to her ear, a silky trail of heat and dampness before he tugged on the lobe. His tongue flicked out to lick the shell and she shivered. “You okay?” “Uh-huh,” she gasped. “Goose bumps.” “Let me see…” His fingers eased the strap of her dress down so that it hung loosely off her shoulder. His mouth followed his fingers, kissing, licking. Laying a moist path to settle finally in the soft dip of her breasts. He took a moment to inhale the sweetness of her, a heavenly combination of scents that robbed him of all reason—other than getting inside her. Christ, it had to be soon, dammit. He’d never waited this long with a woman. What the hell was wrong with him? What was different about Crissy? So what if she spooked? He’d just go get another woman… That thought lasted a whole five seconds until he slipped a finger under the first button on her sundress. It popped. Then another. And another, his lips moving to warm the skin laid bare as her dress fell open. Two coral nipples, hard, puckered. His mouth watered. When she moaned and arched up against him, the animal inside was all for just plowing inside her and getting it over with. It wasn’t natural, the voice inside him pleaded. Just fuck her and get on with it, for Christ’s sake! “Crissy?” “Hmmm?” “Want you.” “I kinda got that impression.” After licking a circle around her areola, he blew on the puckered nipple. Her hands gripped his shoulders and she moaned. Again. “Goose bumps?” he gritted out. A small shiver passed over her body. “Big time.” Wrapping his lips around the succulent bud, he sucked on the hard tip, tugging, nibbling, biting. Her hands traveled to his head, fingers threading through the strands and gripping tight. “More, Randy. I need more.” She gasped when his other hand tweaked and pinched the neglected nipple. Lifting himself over her, he nudged his swollen cock at the folds of her cunt. Damn clothes. But to get closer, he’d have to move away. He didn’t think he could. When she arched up against him, pushing all that heat and dampness up against the straining length of his cock, he all but blew it in his jeans. Moving back to her mouth, he kissed her roughly, ripping buttons off his shirt as he pulled at it, shrugging it off frantically, all sense of calm and control evaporating as he fed the need to get skin to skin. Now, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, now! He worked a hand between them and slipped a finger under the elastic of her panties, traveling the short distance to her pussy, swiping along the folds. Wet. Dripping wet. 51

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He plunged two fingers in, barely registering the surprised gasp under his plundering lips. What he did notice was the slickness, the little muscles grabbing his fingers. Deeper. His fingers curling up, searching for and hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves high up until she went still, rigid, tremors starting to travel down her body. Oh, God, she felt so damn good! He wanted his cock in there, wanted to feel those muscles gripping him, sucking him in. She was ready. He sure as hell was ready. So what was he waiting for? He was about to pull out of her juicy cunt, reach for his zipper and rip the thing out with his teeth if he had to, when her whole body tightened, the first tremors of an approaching orgasm pulsing with every thrust of his fingers. Dammit! Too soon. “Don’t come. Don’t you fucking come yet, sweetheart.” Too late. When she screamed his name, he lost it. His cock started pumping and all he could do was grind it against her. Minutes, hours—who knew how long it went on—but by the time she went limp, his body felt like he’d been screwing her for days straight. His forehead dropped onto her chest. “Jesus, Crissy.” Damn, she was going to be the death of him. He lifted his head to look at her. Beautiful. So damn beautiful. Dark lashes fluttering over blue eyes still darkened with lust. Lips wet. Chest rising and falling as her breathing slowed, gradually returning to normal, her body flushed from head to toe. She closed her eyes as he eased his fingers out. Just as well. He didn’t want her to see the mess he was in. God, he hadn’t shot in his pants since he was a kid. He brushed a kiss across her lips as he lifted himself off her to lie beside her until he could get his legs to work. What he wouldn’t give to just sleep. He closed his eyes. Just for a minute, he told himself. Not even the ringing of his cell phone could make him open his eyes, and he unclipped it from his jeans, flipping it open and answering it in a decidedly sluggish move. “Yeah?” Her brain still struggling to put the pieces back together, she closed the buttons on her dress, her eyes snapping open at the low growl that greeted that movement. She could have sworn, for just a moment, that Randy’s eyes glowed. With only half an ear on the conversation, she shut her eyes again. All she wanted was to sleep. But her attention was pulled back to Randy when he eased off the sofa. Through half-open eyes, she watched him walk along the hallway in the direction of the stairs, fully appreciating the broad, muscled back covered now in a light sheen of sweat. She shook her head at what had just happened. Still trying to figure out how it had happened. 52

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She had to move, even though her body wanted nothing more than to stay right where it was. Her legs wobbled a bit when she stood and she grabbed for the sofa to steady herself. Maybe a shower would help. Clear her head at least while she tried to sort out how she ended up flat on her back with her legs spread. She padded down the hall after Randy, but as she neared she didn’t miss the lowering of Randy’s voice. She paused and listened. And then wished she hadn’t. “…no, I can’t come over tonight… Because I’m on a job…” Oh, now she was a job? Crissy wondered which part of the past half hour or so constituted “work”. “Now don’t be like that, Luisa baby…” Luisa baby? “No, that’s not what I mean… Why, what’s the problem?… Maybe later. I don’t know…” Well, so much for after-sex warm fuzzies. Crissy could feel it evaporate as anger flared up. Just for a moment before she smacked herself mentally. God, she was an idiot. A stupid, idiotic moron. As blonde in the brain as her hair color suggested. Hell, she knew what he was like—from one woman to another. Why was she surprised? What made her think he’d be different with her? Further mental flagellation was suspended when her phone rang. She rushed back to the kitchen to grab the extension. “Hello?” she barked. “Crissy! Where the hell are you?” “Jerry?” “The same. What’s going on? I thought you said you’d be here by now.” Damn! “What’s the time?” “Nine-thirty. How soon can you get down here?” “Give me half an hour. Sorry, hon.” “Yeah, yeah, you can make it up to me later,” he teased. “I’ll be waiting at the bar.” “Gotcha.” She hung up the phone and headed upstairs to her room, noticing that Randy was still on his cell. Talking to Luisa, whoever the hell she was. Couldn’t he do that somewhere else? Like, his place? Totally ignoring him, she took a quick shower. Figuring there was little point in modesty after what had just happened, she raced naked over to her closet to grab something to wear. A smile lit her face when she pulled out the blue jersey, strapless tube dress. Considering it fit her like a second skin, that also meant no bra and no panties—not even a G-string. Jerry had a thing for it, probably because firstly, it showed

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every freckle and bump on her body, and secondly, the guys never seemed to mind getting their photo taken when she wore it. She was bent over brushing her hair when she heard Randy enter the room. Flipping her head back, she fluffed it into place and ignored him while she put on a pair of large gold hoop earrings and touched up her lip gloss. A light touch with some concealer minimized the remnants of the bruising on her face. As a finishing touch, she stepped into a strappy pair of blue stilettos. When she turned back to him, he was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “I’m heading out. To work.” She grabbed her camera bag off the table where her laptop normally sat and moved to the doorway. He slipped in front of her. She stepped sideways. He followed. She moved the other way. “Something wrong?” she asked, her tone brittle and hard. “Yes.” “And?” What was his problem? He looked like he was about to blow a blood vessel. Good! Maybe Luisa baby could kiss it better for him. “What is that?” He nodded at her dress. She smiled sweetly at him. “Well that’s a surprise, Casanova. I thought you of all people would recognize a dress. You’ve certainly helped enough females out of them.” “It is not a dress. It’s an overgrown elastic band, and you’re not wearing it.” “Ex-cuse me?” “Christ, Crissy, a guy can almost tell if you’ve had your appendix removed in that thing.” “Clever boy.” She patted his cheek. “And very observant. That’s why I wear it. When they’re drooling, they’ll let me snap anything I like. It’s really very effective. And in case you’re wondering, the appendix is still there. Now,” she pushed him aside, “if you’ll excuse me…” He grabbed her arm, making her teeter on her heels for a moment before she got her balance back. “You’re not going anywhere without me.” She glanced at his hand and then back up at his face. “Well, big guy, you better get moving, because I’m leaving in five minutes.”

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Chapter Six Staring blankly into the amber brew, Randy pondered how quickly a day could go from heaven to hell. For too short a time, he’d had Crissy right where he’d been dying to get her since New Years—all soft and ready for him, hot and wet and willing—until that damn phone call screwed things up. Now she was flashing that sexy little smile and flirting with every guy she ran into—except him. And he had to watch every male with his eyes hanging out in the dimly lit club as Crissy swished that electric-blue ass in front of them. At least she was in the function room out the back for a while. Where he wasn’t allowed, because she was working. She’d better be damn well working… Perched on a bar stool, leaning on the bar, he took another long draw on his beer. “Hey, man! What’s happening?” Randy didn’t even bother turning as Chad leaned back against the bar on his elbows, looking out at the crowd. “Not much.” “Where’s our little lady?” He tossed his head in the direction of the function room. “Out there. Working.” “You don’t sound too happy. Trouble in paradise?” He didn’t answer. Just took another pull on his beer instead. No way would he give Chad the satisfaction of knowing what was going down between him and Crissy. The music started up again, making it hard to hear anything above the grinding beat. Not to mention the strobe lighting was giving him a goddamn headache. “C’mon, grump. Let’s go join Marcus. We’ve got some news.” Chad motioned to Bill, the barman, for two more beers, and they threaded their way through the crowd over to where Marcus was holding court with a couple of leggy but very classy blondes in his usual corner spot away from the blaring speakers of the DJ. That was Marcus—class all the way. Tonight he looked like the chairman of the board—short haircut, impeccable suit, tie—but the chicks just couldn’t stay away. “Would you ladies mind?” asked Marcus with a smile to the ladies as he and Chad approached. Randy shook his head and grinned as they got up, each lady bending over for a kiss before they left. Sinking back into a soft, black leather seat, he considered Marcus. “So, what’s this about?”

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“One of my men believes he may have found out the identity of the two weres who attacked Crissy.” “How?” “The stolen camera. The first assailant tried to fence it. He was followed and led us to his accomplice. They’re under observation to see if we can ascertain who is employing them. But these two are particularly unsavory. No morals at all. Crissy was very lucky—on both nights.” “Names?” “Louie Bastano and Rick Cantilana. Ring any bells?” “Sure,” said Randy. “I know of Rick. Freelance scum from Florida. Heard he just got out of jail six months ago.” “Yes, true. He was the one with the camera. Small fry mostly. Louie, however, is another matter. From New York. Ties to one of the big gangs up there. His record is a little more ‘colorful’, to say the least. Apparently he likes women—especially when they’re his victims.” Randy felt a chill pass down his spine. “Rape?” “Not convicted,” said Marcus, “although charges dropped on three attempted.” “Shit!” “My thoughts exactly. I would hate to see Crissy become number four. She’s a lovely young lady.” He watched Randy closely before continuing. “But whatever she has, or they think she has, it must be dangerous. You’ve been over her work?” “Yeah, for the last four weeks. Nothing I could see.” “Hmmm. Perhaps it is something a little less obvious. Something she isn’t aware she has.” “You mean, like she took a photo and somebody ended up in it who wasn’t supposed to be there?” “It’s a possibility.” Marcus pulled a card out of his pocket and scribbled on it. “Call him.” Randy looked at the card. It was Marcus’ business card, but on the back was an unfamiliar name and number. “Rob has some special skills, especially with photography. Does work for the New Orleans crime lab on occasion. He may be able to help.” “Thanks, Marcus. I appreciate it.” He waved his hand in the air. “No problem.” “Maybe not with him,” Chad leaned closer to Randy, “but don’t look now. Looks like you’ve been spotted, man.” “What? Who?” “Luisa Santiago, and man, she looks hot!” “Fuck!” 56

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“Knowing her, that’s about the size of it, stud.” Christ, just what he needed. Her perfume hit him first, making his nose itch. Followed by the rest of her. When she ran her long nails through his hair, he felt a shudder of repulsion race over his body. God, was it only a couple of weeks ago he’d been rolling around in bed with her? The thought of repeating that made his stomach turn. He had to grit his teeth when she planted herself on his lap. “What’re you doing here, Luisa?” She pouted. “You sounded so…I don’t know, so offhand on the phone. I thought something might be wrong.” Something was wrong, all right, and she was it. He tried to get her off his lap, but she clung on around his neck. “I’m working,” he said through gritted teeth. She glanced around at the empty beer bottles on the table. “Could’ve fooled me. Can’t you just have one dance with me, Randy? Come on, Chad can keep an eye on things while we’re gone, can’t you, Chad?” Chad grinned. “No, as you can see, I’m busy working too.” Her arms tightened around his neck, her warm breath brushing over his ear. “I’ll make it worth your while…” Every nerve ending in his body rioted against her closeness, and he stiffened. Just the thought made his stomach clench. What was wrong with him? “Come on, sugar pie,” she pouted. “Just one. Promise.” “Geez, cut it with the cutie-pie names, Luisa. You’re making my teeth ache,” said Chad. He looked around her to Randy. “Get her out of here, man. Dance with her or something. You know she won’t leave you alone until you do.” “But Crissy—” started Randy. “Crissy’ll be a while yet—that thing out back’ll likely go for hours.” “Who is Crissy?” The pout on Luisa’s face deepened and Randy sighed. “She’s the…ah…job I told you about.” He caught a look of consternation on Chad’s face, followed by a distinct frown of disapproval from Marcus. But there was hardly any other designation he could give her, considering they hadn’t even gotten naked together yet. What was he supposed to say? Oh, she’s my mate, but I just haven’t nipped her yet? A lazy blues number came on and Luisa spun on his lap, rubbing herself against him, sliding her pussy over his leg. Nothing. He didn’t feel a damn thing. Except that he wanted to be anywhere but there. His dick sat inside his pants as limp as sausage with no meat. Now if that had been Crissy wriggling on his lap, he’d be setting the land speed record to get back to her place and naked.

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He grabbed Luisa around the waist and pushed her back, trying to get her off his lap in earnest now, but she clung on tighter, sticking to him like a magnet. Hell, just what he needed…

***** Crissy waited until Jerry put away his mini tape recorder before turning off her camera. “We done now?” “Yeah, doll. That’s it for tonight. Got some good stuff though. The Digest has been wanting a scoop on these guys for months. No one’s been able to get near them.” “So how did you get so lucky?” “Contacts,” he said and grinned. “Uh-huh, and what’s her name?” He pulled her to him and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. “Ahh, you know me too well, sweetheart. By the way, you look real hot tonight. You know how I love you in blue.” “You love me in as little as possible, you rat. I still haven’t forgiven you for that nudist camp you dragged me along to.” He screwed up his lips, trying to hide the smile. “Hmmm…that was one highlight of our working relationship, wasn’t it though?” “For you, maybe.” She screwed up her mouth in distaste. “But for me, the sight of so many old guys walking around with hard-ons, knowing I was most likely the cause, is not a memory that keeps me warm on cold, rainy nights.” He hugged her one-handed and laughed. “I noticed the zoom lens stayed in the bag that week. But you’ve gotta give ‘em a break, Cris. You’d give a dead man a hard-on.” “Even you?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. “Hell yeah, even me.” She looked up at him and grinned. The man was like sex on a stick. Typical cliché— tall, dark and handsome. All the women loved him. And while she could certainly appreciate all his assets, and the little spark of sexual attraction had definitely been mutual, for some reason they’d just never gotten together. “So why have you never made a move on me?” Wrapping his other arm loosely around her waist, he looked at her seriously, for once the teasing laughter absent from his eyes. “Because I really like you, doll— personally and professionally—and if I thought for a second I could give you what you need, I’d be there in a heartbeat.” “You know what I need?” “Yup.” “I’m glad one of us does.”

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He laughed. “I’ll bet I’m not the only one. Your bodyguard out there looked like he wanted to tear any man apart who so much as breathed near you.” “Randy? No way. He just wants what he thinks he can’t have.” “And can he?” Jerry asked, humor lighting his eyes. “If I had a brain, the answer would be no. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” He waited while she hoisted her camera over one shoulder and slung his arm around the other one as they left the room, walking down the short hallway back into the main part of the club. “Well, doll, you’re gonna have to take a guy’s word on this— he only had eyes for you. Believe me.” She stopped dead. The sight of Randy sitting with Chad and Marcus, his hands on the waist of a long-legged brunette who was squirming on his lap in a way that left little to the imagination, was enough to make her blood run cold. “Still think so?” she said to Jerry. His arm tightened around her, and she glanced sideways at him to see him frowning heavily in Randy’s direction. Uncomfortable heat, not unlike she was coming down with a temperature, was rushing over her body, making her feel faint the longer she watched Randy. Just the sight of him with another woman made her feel ill. Disquieted, she shook her head and looked away from him. “You’re not leaving, are you, Crissy?” She turned to see Chad at her elbow. She tried to smile but it was a feeble effort at best. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” “And who might you be?” At the overt protectiveness in Jerry’s tone, she couldn’t help but smile, and patted his arm. “Jerry, this is Chad Lightfoot. He works with Randy. Chad, this is Jerry Deacon.” From her hand on his arm, she could feel some of the tension leave Jerry’s body as the two men shook hands. “It’s not what you think,” said Chad. “You know what, Chad? It’s really none of my business what Randy does in his personal life. He could have the whole female cast of 42nd Street sitting on his lap for all I care.” “I can give you a ride if you like, Cris,” said Jerry. “It’s on my way.” “You might want to hang around,” suggested Chad. “Randy could probably do with some help getting rid of Luisa.” “Luisa?” Luisa! Chad looked at her, bemused. “Thanks, Jerry. Let’s go. Chad, I’m sure Randy will manage just fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.” Chad grabbed her shoulder as she turned away to leave. “You don’t need to worry.”

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“About what?” “Randy.” For once his expression appeared serious. “You’ve got him, you know.” She lifted her head and glanced at the man in question. “Of course. I’m convinced. Truly. Anyone can see just looking at him how totally besotted he is with me.” “Ah, don’t worry about her. She’s nothing.” “Maybe someone neglected to inform her of that little fact,” she grumbled. “Look, Chad, I don’t care. How much clearer can I make it?” Surprising the hell out of her, he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against him as he leaned down and kissed her, deep and long, leaving her gasping a little for breath. She pushed him away and frowned at the cheeky smile that crept over his face. “You care to explain?” “Simple, chere. No fireworks. I bet it would be the same if you lip-locked with Jerry, here. Yet you and Randy set each other off like a Fourth of July.” He had a point—damn him. “So?” Chad leaned down near her ear. “So brace yourself, babe, ‘cause it did the trick. The big bad wolf is on the warpath.” She lifted her head in time to see a wink from him before her elbow was rudely tugged on, breaking her away from Chad and Jerry. Randy. Glaring at her. At her! What a nerve! Threading his way through the slow-moving couples, Chad flopped down in a spare black leather chair at Marcus’ table and sighed, a satisfied grin on his face. Reaching over, he grabbed his beer and took a long swig. “Nice show. What, exactly, were you doing?” Marcus asked. “Meaning?” “Crissy. It should be obvious, even to you, that she is Randy’s mate.” He saluted Marcus with his bottle. “Not quite yet, my curious friend. Let’s just say I’m making sure he doesn’t lose sight of the prize.” “By making him mad enough to rip your fur out hair by hair? Interesting plan. Have I ever mentioned that you furries are really very strange?” “I got a response, didn’t I?” “Yes, and hopefully Luisa got a very clear message. Randy jumped up out of the seat so quickly she landed on her delectable bottom.” Chad laughed. “It’s about time the old guy settled down. Left the field clear for the younger guys for a change.” “Meaning you, I presume.”

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“Exactly. You got any idea what it’s like being compared to another man by every woman you take to bed?” “Can’t say I’ve ever had that problem, no.” Marcus glanced at Chad and grinned. “I take it there’s more method to this madness?” “Not really. It’s a very simple plan.” “No doubt when you do your best work,” he said dryly. “Well, it’s working. Look at him.” They both watched Randy as he hovered behind Crissy, holding her shoulders and trying to get her to listen to him. Just then, Crissy turned around, exasperation written all over her face, just in time to see Luisa sidle up and slip her arm inside Randy’s, trying very hard to drag him out for a dance. “Shit,” said Chad. “A small hiccup in the Grand Plan?” “You could call it that. Why can’t that woman take a hint? Oh hell.” “Yes, hell. Shall we go to the rescue? You could perhaps distract Miss Rampant Hormones with some of your dubious charm, and I could smooth things over between Randy and Crissy.” Marcus’ blue eyes twinkled with wicked delight. “Not yet.” He turned back to his beer. “Give him a minute. He’ll work it out.” “Or not.” “What does that mean?” “Interesting. Crissy is leaving with the other man, the one she works with. Yes, there she goes, cameras and all. Randy looks to be in danger of doing some serious vascular damage. To put it in your rather blunt vernacular, Chad, your plan sucks.” “Fuck!” “Crass, but quite an accurate description, nonetheless.”

***** Randy stormed into the house, dripping wet. As if fighting with Crissy wasn’t bad enough, then his damn truck wouldn’t start, so he’d had to run all the way back. And to top it off, it started frickin’ raining! He slammed the front door behind him. She’d better damn well be here. Personally, he’d had enough of this bullshit for one night. Stripping off his soaked shirt as he went, he headed for the kitchen first. He found her there, hovering over the coffeepot, waiting while it dripped enough to fill the mug she held in her hand. Indescribable relief poured through him at finding her safe, lessening the anger somewhat to a low boil. All the way back, he couldn’t get out of his head the thought of someone here, waiting for her. How could she do that? Put herself in danger by leaving without him?

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All he wanted was a chance to explain. Followed by a nice long night in bed wrapped around Crissy while he fucked both their brains out. Christ, what a mess! “Don’t ever do that again, babe, or I swear to God I’ll put you over my knee and paddle that ass of yours until it’s bright red.” She spun around to face him, her eyes blazing fire. “For a start, I’m not your babe. Got it? And secondly, you blew it, big guy. Totally. Your words are nice, but like you, they’re just so much crap. So do me a real big favor and leave me the hell alone. Go take care of Luisa. I can call Chad if I need someone to look after me.” Chad? “Don’t fucking push me, Crissy,” he growled through clenched teeth. “You think I didn’t see that little display you and he put on at the club?” “Oh, you mean you were able to drag your nose out of Luisa’s cleavage for two seconds?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You know exactly what I mean. If you two had gotten much closer, they would have had to pry you apart with a damn crowbar.” “And you and Chad were any different? How come you snuggle up to him every chance you get? What’s with that? And you think I don’t see the way other guys look at you? How crazy insane it makes me?” “Oh, and I should just sit by while every woman in town paws you like you’re her own personal property? I don’t think so.” “But it’s not them I want, goddammit! It’s you!” “Maybe you should let them know, then. Because there’s at least one woman in town who seems to think you’re hers, and honey, it ain’t me.” “She’s nothing—” “No, we’re nothing. I told you what I want, Randy. And obviously you don’t have the goods.” Putting the unused mug back on the hook, she turned to leave. “Don’t go, Crissy. We aren’t finished.” “You got it wrong, Randy. You can’t finish what never really started. ‘Night.” She ran up the stairs and slammed the door of her room shut. The vibration of it reverberating along every wall in the house. Once the house was silent, he flopped on the sofa and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. Once he got past the anger and settled down, a few things became clear to him. And he smiled. She was so wrong. She was as jealous as hell. No, they’d more than started, all right. He just had to be patient and wait for her to realize it.

*****

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He woke with a start to the sound of a door closing. Shit, when had he fallen asleep? His body ached from his shoulders to his toes from his uncomfortable position on the sofa. A glance up the stairs showed Crissy’s door open. He raced up, giving it a quick once over—enough to establish that she wasn’t there. Hell. Tearing downstairs, he yanked a T-shirt out of his bag, throwing it over his head as he grabbed his keys and took off after her. The fact that it was barely light outside, dawn almost breaking, filtered through his foggy brain. Now where the hell was she going? And at this hour of the morning. He caught sight of her jogging down the road, the blonde ponytail swinging, just as she turned the corner into North Peters Street. Tailing her wasn’t hard. The streets of the Quarter were deserted at this hour of the morning. A light breeze was blowing in off the water pushing the distinctive smell of the Quarter—stale beer and a few others he’d rather not think about—into his face. She kept up a steady pace, but after an hour he wondered when the hell she was going to turn for home. Running wasn’t the problem. He could go for hours. Running with a hard cock from watching that ass bounce was causing him some serious pain, though. He’d be lucky if he hadn’t done some permanent damage. Finally it looked like she was heading back. Thank God. His phone rang and he recognized Chad’s number on the screen. “Yeah?” he panted. “Shit, I didn’t catch you in the middle of something, did I, man?” “Would I be answering the fucking phone if I was?” He wished! “Okay, okay, no need to bite my head off.” “Look, I’m busy. Crissy decided to go for an early morning jog. I’m tailing her, so unless you have something important to say…” “She doesn’t know you’re there?” “Obviously not.” “So you and she aren’t talking, I take it.” “Did you call for a reason, Chad, or just to piss me off, because I sure as hell haven’t forgotten about your little prank last night.” “Prank, nothing. Just giving her something to think about. And you know, she tastes like heaven. Those lips are so soft and sweet—” “You got a death wish, man?” “You know, there’s a good cure for what’s ailing you. Of course, Crissy would have to go along with it, and it don’t look like that’s happening. Shame.” “You’re a pain in the ass—you know that? Tell me what you called for or I’m hanging up now.”

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“Fine. Fine. You know the name René Lamathe?” “No. Should I?” “You should now. He followed you home last night. We followed him. Marcus ID’d him.” “He’s the vamp?” “Looks like. Marcus and I kept watch. He hung around ‘til the lights went out in the house and then disappeared. Looks like a few pieces are starting to come together.” “Look, can you come around later? I want to hear all about this guy. Just give me a few hours though, ‘til I get things sorted out with Crissy.” “Only a few hours? Mr. Positive Thinking, aren’t we…” Chad laughed. “Sure. I’m heading to bed now. I’ll call in once I’ve had my beauty sleep.” Shutting off his phone, Randy was relieved to see they were almost home. He wanted Crissy inside, away from harm where he could keep an eye on her. So far they’d located two weres and a vamp. Hopefully for Crissy’s safety and his peace of mind, no more would be coming out of the woodwork. Opening the door, he was met by a hiss from Fatso and he vented the frustration he was feeling and snarled back in response. Fatso fled. Good. He didn’t give a shit if the cat didn’t like him. If it came down to it and one of them had to go, it sure as hell wouldn’t be him, so the cat had better learn to be a bit more sociable. He half expected to smell the coffee brewing—that seemed to be Crissy’s answer to a lot of her troubles, although from this morning’s effort, he’d better add very long runs to the list of remedies—for future reference. No coffee, but the shower was running upstairs—he could hear it flowing through the pipes of the old house. Which gave him an idea… The grin on his face was pure wolf.

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Chapter Seven Pulling the shower curtain closed, Crissy stepped under the stream of water, eyes closed, and let her mind wander as her body relaxed. The run had done her a world of good. The last of her aches were gone, and she’d really needed to clear her head. Last night’s little altercation with Randy had her tossing and turning most of the night. Her initial anger over what had happened had petered out pretty quickly, especially after seeing him get so worked up and possessive. Over her. Amazing. Of course she knew it wasn’t his fault at the club. Did she really look so dumb? She was tired of being taken for brainless just because she was blonde. But Luisa… Oh, she had her number, all right. The woman thought she could rub her assets all over Randy and that made him hers. Huh! Crissy hadn’t missed the fact that Randy was trying his darnedest to get her away from him. Poor guy. Not! He was supposed to be guarding her. How on earth he thought he could do it with another woman trying to get inside his jeans in public beat the hell out of her. But holy mama! When he walked in, all wet, no shirt, breathing fire out of those sexy eyes… She thought her heart might give out. And that bit about putting her over his knee. She smiled and fanned her face. She hadn’t thought she’d be into spankings, but she hadn’t expected her body’s reaction to it, either. Just picturing it—lying across his lap, her skirt raised above the cheeks of her ass, the look in his eyes as he ran his hands over her curves before laying a sharp slap on the soft skin—made her pulse race. She slid a hand down between her legs, a quiet moan leaving her lips as a soapy finger slipped inside— She squeaked when another hand came around from behind her and palmed a breast, the other one laying over hers and moving it so her finger slid in and out. “If you wanna get real wet, maybe I can help…” “Randy!” she gasped. His body was flush up against hers, the heat pouring from him, warming her, the hard length of his erection sliding up and down the slick crevice between her buttocks. “You gonna tell me what you were thinking about just then?” Randy asked, the husky sound at her ears sending goose bumps over her flesh. She snorted in mock derision. “No. And what the hell are you doing in my shower?” “I figure this is one place you can’t run away from me. Hope you have plenty of hot water, because you and I are going to have a little talk.” “We don’t have anything to talk about, and while we’re at it, don’t you think you’re taking this bodyg—” 65

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“Crissy, shut up!” Luckily he couldn’t see the grin that spread across her face. “Okay, I’m listening.” Gripping her hips, he spun her around to face him. It was hard to miss the look of determination on his face. He had something to say and he wasn’t going to be distracted. But that was his problem. She had a different one altogether. Okay, she’d known he’d be naked—he was in her shower, after all, but still… The chest…yes, she’d seen the chest last night—broad, great muscles, arms that looked like they could hold her up one-handed—but the rest of it. She just stared, blatantly. In her own defense, it was about time she got a look at the goods. He’d seen her twice already, so fair was fair. But his cock was sticking out and she just couldn’t drag her eyes away. Long, thick, with a ruddy, flared crown that made her lick her lips. “I don’t suppose you’ve measured that, have you? Just for curiosity’s sake…” “Does it matter?” Strong fingers tightened on her flesh and she tossed a quick glance up at his exasperated expression. “Size? Definitely.” She nodded enthusiastically. “Ten,” he growled at her and raised a light brown eyebrow. “Happy?” “That depends.” “On?” “What you plan on doing with it.” It jerked at her words, bobbing up and down. “Nothing until we talk,” he gruffed. She raised her eyes to him, her look as innocent as she could make it. “So talk.” Fast, she added silently. His hands skimmed up her body, resting finally on her shoulders, holding her still, a small shake ensuring her attention stayed up where the talking was happening. “Luisa and I are over, Crissy. Have been for a couple of weeks now.” “Maybe for you, hot shot, but I don’t think your girlfriend got the message.” “She knows. And she’s not nor ever was,” he gritted his teeth, “my goddamn girlfriend.” “No?” “No!” “So that’s why she was climbing all over you last night?” “She gets carried away.” “Yes, I could see that. Except for the fact that you had your jeans on, she was fucking you in your chair.” His grip on her shoulders tightened. “But I wasn’t fucking her,” he forced out through clenched teeth. “I only want to fuck you,” he roared.

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After she got over the initial shock, she closed her mouth and looked up at him, taking in the tense stance, the eyes that flashed exasperation at her before softening, the strong jaw… God, he turned her on. “So,” she said softly, aware that she was crossing a line with Randy, a line she suspected represented more than a physical boundary, but an emotional one too, “what are you waiting for?” His lips brushed against hers, the touch soft, reassuring, but she could feel the tension in his body. She gasped as he lifted her up, resting her ass and back against the cold tiles so that she shivered. “Your legs. Wrap them around me, honey.” His broad palms supported her ass and he positioned her easily, nudging the tip of his cock at her entrance, just slipping the head inside, and then stopped. She wriggled, trying to slide down the shaft. He half-smiled, but his eyes were searching, watching her expression closely. “Impatient?” “Try needy. It’s been a long time.” With each shallow thrust, she could feel the stretch and pop as the flared head of his cock slipped inside, before he withdrew it and repeated the movement. “Now that I have your attention…” His words washed over her as she closed her eyes, her head dropping back to rest against the tiles, as she savored every sensation. “…let’s get a couple of things straight. Getting back to our earlier conversation…” “Uh-huh.” He was too much in control. That wasn’t what she wanted or needed. She wanted him wild. Pounding into her as though he couldn’t get enough of her. “Which one was that?” For the life of her, she couldn’t remember. “Maybe this will help…” Soft, so tender it almost made her want to cry, his mouth moved over hers. Lips hot against hers. Strangely comforting, reassuring, special… A lover’s touch. “Randy—” “This pussy is mine, Crissy honey. This cock…” he slipped in a little further and they both groaned at the exquisite feeling, “is yours. You with me now?” “Barely.” It was maddening. Her labia were swollen, and she had an ache down low in her belly that was crying out for him. Why didn’t he just do it? Slide in and fill her. She could feel the delicious burn along the entrance to her pussy where he was stretching her. He was so thick, it was almost like being a virgin all over again. “And this ass, Crissy. This ass had better be mine too.”

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She groaned as his finger skimmed over the little hole, making it tighten and pucker as the tip of a finger pushed just inside before a slap stung the flesh. Her buttocks clenched. God, it had been so long since— “Say it.” She couldn’t look away from the dark heat in his gaze, the force of it taking her breath. “This ass is yours.” “Good.” His head dropped, his lips closing around the hard peak of a nipple and suckling, shooting streaks of pleasure directly to her clit. He continued to thrust, the digs shallow, frustrating. She tried to pull him closer by digging her heels into his back. “Randy!” He released the nipple he’d been laving and looked up. She had to get him to lose control. She didn’t want teasing, not anymore. She wanted him to fuck her, dammit! Reaching for his face, she kissed him, his lips opening under hers. When his tongue stroked against hers, she held it with her teeth and sucked on it, hard, holding it still. A wild moan tore out of his chest, swallowed up between them as he surged inside her in one savage thrust until he was buried deep. Her eyes blinked and watered at the feel of him filling her, and she let go of his tongue and collapsed against him as he started to pound into her. “Christ, Crissy! Do you have any idea what that does to me?” Hopefully good things, she thought, and clenched around him as he surged inside her again. Then his lips were on hers, moving over them roughly, the tenderness of moments before gone in a growling, possessive branding, before he wrenched his mouth away to nip and lick a heated path to her neck. Yes! Yes! Oh, hell, yes! Lifting her higher, he thrust deeper, his groans, his heated breath against her skin sending an arrow of sensation through her that landed, with great force, in her clit. Damn, he was hitting every nerve ending she had and a few she’d never even known about. All she could feel, all she could think about, was the way he filled her, possessed her, made her want to feel the searing blast of seed from his cock, embrace the burning deep inside and hold him to her. “Crissy…babe…oh, fuck! Oh, God yes…” He repositioned her, tilting her hips so that he ground against her clit with each forward thrust. Warmth blossomed through her, the swirling feeling, the heat gathering in her cunt, her skin so sensitive that even the gentle sprinkle of water on her skin felt alive with energy. Feelings so intense her mind was blank of everything but him. He nuzzled her neck, little nips and licks that sent delightful shivers through her body, and she tilted her head, giving him better access.

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Then he bit her. Surprisingly sharp teeth clamped on her shoulder shooting a shard of electricity straight through to the ultrasensitive depths of her womb. The feel of his bite, the deep, animalistic growl that broke free… She exploded. Burst. Flew apart as her body shook in his arms, the tremors, her whole body jerking in time with the hot splashes of his seed into her womb as he thickened further and ground his cock deeper and deeper. It was never-ending. She lost track of time as her orgasm peaked again and again with every jerk of his shaft inside her channel. Cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around her waist holding her flush against him, he shuddered as his cock shot another stream into her womb. “Don’t move.” “Can’t. Dead.” His body vibrated as a satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. Maybe she dozed. When she came to, they were sitting on her little vanity seat. Her robe was draped over her back. The shower was off. And he was still inside her. Good Lord. If this was heaven, it beat sitting on a cloud any day.

***** Propped up in bed, head resting on his hand, Randy watched Crissy as she slept, nothing moving except the shallow rise and fall of her magnificent breasts, her silky skin still flushed and pink, his big hand covering her small one where it rested, splayed, on his chest. Her hair was a wild, golden mess spread over the pillow, a thick tendril curled in the shadowed crevice of her cleavage. He trailed his fingers down over the skin of her cheek, marveling at its softness and lifted the wayward lock, placing it behind her shoulder. His finger ran over the spot, now looking little more than a normal love bite, where he’d bitten her. That was going to take some explaining, he knew. Especially when it didn’t fade. But it was too late to do anything about it. He’d broken the skin, the memory of her blood passing over his tongue making his erection throb. He’d never had to worry about the other women he slept with falling pregnant. The bite changed everything. It made her his, made her body his. Running his hand over her flat tummy, he closed his eyes and pictured her pregnant, her swollen belly full of their child. His breath caught in his throat, tenderness filling him at the image. He opened his eyes and smiled. Later. There would be plenty of time for that later, when this threat was behind them. But full lips called to him, distracting him, and he leaned over, feathering a soft kiss over them. Their blended scents that her body now carried, filled the air and made his heart speed up. Carrying her to the bed from the bathroom had seemed like a ten-mile journey on his shaky legs, but he’d fully intended to leave her there to sleep. That had changed the

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minute he laid her down. Her arms had tightened around his neck and she’d pleaded at him with those big blues and asked him not to go. Like he could ever say no to that… And when her leg wrapped over his hip, pulling him in close to her warmth and wetness so that he slid so easily back inside, he knew that, for him, some things would never be the same again. His wild days were definitely over. In complete, unabashed abandon, they’d come together again. But whereas the first time had been primal, wild, what followed as they slid and moved over the satiny sheets had been gentle, like a slow dance to a sultry rhythm, but every bit as intense. Tasting each other, the feel of her mouth around his cock, her tongue wrapping around the shaft as he tortured himself with long, slow thrusts, and then her sweet juices on his tongue mixed with the salty taste of himself as his tongue fucked her… And when he’d lain back, positioning her on top of him, the sight of her above him, head thrown back as she rocked over his cock and came blasted what was left of his control. He’d pulled out while she was still pulsing around him and flipped her under him, her head down and her ass in the air. A second later, after plunging as deep as he could get in one furious thrust, he’d exploded inside her, on and on, a never-ending pulse and release. Her clenching channel throbbed around him, wringing an orgasm out of him that made him see stars. No wonder she was sleeping so soundly. Every cell in his body screamed at him to curl around her, hold her close and give in to the seductive pull of sleep too. But he had crossed a line with Crissy he never had with any other female, and he needed some time to think about it while his cock was quiet and his brain had a chance to work. That wasn’t likely to happen while he was naked with her. Moving silently, he rolled out of bed and tugged on his jeans, stepping quietly down the stairs. He was waiting for the coffee to finish dripping when his cell phone rang. Chad was on his way. He snapped the phone shut and relaxed against the counter. He smiled as it occurred to him that for the first time since they’d taken on the case, his cock wasn’t hammering at his jeans. He felt sated. Complete. His little mate had totally drained him. His mate. Oh fuck. His body stilled at the thought. That was it. That was the word. The usual panic failed to materialize. In fact his body and mind rejoiced at the thought of it. A previously unknown euphoria filled him. “Mate.” He tested the sound. It sounded good, different when he was talking about his own and not just generally.

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A surge of possessiveness flooded through him. His mate. Yeah, that sounded even better. Felt good too. In fact, it felt fucking fantastic. Hell, fucking Crissy was better than fantastic. It blew his mind. Every single detail flashed through his head in glorious living color. Every whimper and moan. God, what a fuck! At least he hadn’t scared her—that was something at least. In fact, she’d loved every second of it. But then, she only knew the half of it. She’d probably fry his balls when she found out the rest. But man! If that was what sex was like with a mate, he could understand now why mated furries never looked anywhere else. Funny, but for years he’d wondered how they could be satisfied with only one woman. Now just the thought of any other woman even touching his cock was enough to make it shrivel up. But Crissy only had to come within five feet of him—hell, he only had to think about her—and he was hard and ready, busting to give it to her… Coffee. He needed coffee bad. And food. He’d worked up enough appetite to eat a whole cow on his own. He turned to the fridge and almost stumbled over Fatso, sitting there staring up at him. “What?” Fatso meowed and looked pointedly at his bowl. Randy curled his lip in disdain. “Oh, I get it. You’re hungry, and Momma’s not around, so I’m fit to talk to now. Is that it?” The meowing got louder. Worried the caterwauling would wake up his little mate—swallowing the silly grin using that word produced—Randy grabbed a tin of cat food out of the cupboard. “Okay, okay. It’s coming. Shut up, for chrissakes.” He dumped the filled bowl down on the floor and Fatso dug in, eating like he hadn’t been fed in a month. “What? No thank you? Just remember who feeds you next time, dumb cat. And do something about that attitude while you’re at it.” He turned then and grabbed a frying pan, turning the gas on low to heat while he grabbed the steak and bacon from the fridge, whistling as he went. He was almost done cooking when Chad walked in. “You had breakfast yet?” Randy asked him. “Nope. But feel free to hit me with some of whatever you’re having.” Grabbing two plates out of the cupboard, he piled them both high—steak, bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy… “What’s this?” Chad’s eyes widened as he looked at the mountain of food in front of him. “You work up a bit of an appetite on your run, Cuz? You’ve got enough food here to feed an army.” “You complaining?” “Hell, no. I’m starved.”

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“Good. Talk while you eat. I want to know as much as you can tell me about this René guy before Crissy comes down.” “Well…for starters, like we thought, he’s not a newbie…about six hundred years old, give or take a decade or five…” “He’s older than Marcus?” “Just a smidge. Been here as long as Marcus. Disappeared about ten or twelve years ago—Marcus is a bit hazy on the details. Hadn’t been seen around town up until the other night.” “So is he good or bad?” “That depends.” Chad considered his words as he bit into a biscuit. “There are more than a few vamps who snuffed it on the end of a stake he was wielding who’d consider him bad if they were still around to tell the tale. Marcus called him The Terminator. He was like the angel of death for vamps who were doing something they shouldn’t…their worst nightmare. Like, you saw René, you knew your number was up, you know what I mean? Apart from that, did his own thing, no trouble, but…” Chad paused and put down his knife and fork, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “But?” “Before he disappeared, rumor is he was involved with a young lady. A human lady.” “So what? They all do it, just like we do.” “Yeah, but this is where it gets interesting. Her name was Christina.” Chad stared at him, all usual humor wiped off his face, and Randy felt the chill pass over his body so that every hair stood on end. “Also known, by a select few, as Crissy.” Randy vaulted out of his chair, the suddenness of the movement sending it crashing backward on the floor behind him. “What!” “What’s wrong?” “Hey, sugah,” said Chad, the smile quickly back on his face as he greeted Crissy’s cousin as she walked into the kitchen. Randy barely flicked a glance at her. “Georgie. Hi.” He felt like his whole world was about to crumble. Christ, what if… Chad dived in. “You want some coffee, chere?” “Never touch the stuff. But I’ll have green tea if the kettle’s boiled. The bags are next to the coffee jar,” she said as she straddled a chair. Reaching for a tea bag and a mug, Randy filled it, thinking all the while. Crissy and a vamp? But how? When? What if René had started the conversion? Did he want her back? Randy’s chest felt tight. He felt sick, the huge breakfast he’d eaten sitting like a lead brick in his stomach. “So,” she bumped Chad’s shoulder, “what’s the problem?” “We may have identified the guys who attacked Crissy.”

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“Hey, that’s great!” “Yeah, it sure is,” Randy said, handing Georgie the mug, his eyes sending Chad an unspoken warning. “What’s great?” They all turned at the sleepy voice. Randy walked over to Crissy, pulling her close and wrapping her up inside his arms. “What’re you doing up?” he said, rubbing his cheek against the soft silk of her hair, inhaling her unique scent of summer and sunshine, unfamiliar feelings of terror and possessiveness bleeding through him in equal measure. She tried to ease back from him, looking uncomfortable with Chad and Georgie watching. Shit. He didn’t want her pulling away. Didn’t want her denying him—them. Ever. Crissy was his now and he didn’t give a rat’s ass who knew. With a finger under her chin, he lifted her face, bussing her lips with his in a succession of intimate touches. When she stiffened, he slanted his mouth more firmly over hers, his tongue pushing insistently at her lips, demanding entry, until she opened underneath him. Diving into the moist heat, he prodded and thrust until he gained a response, her tongue meeting his in a silken glide, her body finally softening against his. Relief coursed through him. Satisfied he’d made his point, he lifted his head, watching the rosy tint of a blush staining her cheeks. She resumed her now tepid efforts to break free, and he let her slip out of his arms, but not far. He wasn’t prepared to let her go just yet, and pulled her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, locking her there. She frowned over her shoulder at him, before turning back to face Chad and Georgie. “I heard voices,” Crissy said. “What’s going on?” Resting his chin on the top of Crissy’s head, he locked eyes with Chad before dropping his head to lick softly over the ultrasensitive mark on her shoulder, sending a distinct shiver over her skin. Chad’s eyes narrowed in contemplation before they widened as understanding hit him and a small smirk kicked up the corner of his mouth. He ducked his head to hide the broadening grin, before raising it again, the humor on his face back under control. “Chad and Marcus may have found out who the two guys were who attacked you.” “Hey, that’s great. Who are they? What did they want?” “A couple of really rough characters, Crissy,” said Chad. “You don’t want to be leaving the house on your own for a while, at least until we find out more, okay?” She patted Randy’s hands to indicate she wanted to move, and reluctantly he let her go. After she’d grabbed a mug of coffee, she didn’t return to him but sat down next to Georgie. He choked down the dash of pique that move triggered. “So, does that mean I’m going to be ‘guarded’ every second?”

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Randy pulled out the chair next to her and sat on it, draping his arm across the back of hers as he answered, his look determined, his expression full of resolve. “Yep, that’s exactly what it means.” “Well, not this afternoon. Sorry. Georgie and I have plans,” she said firmly, taking a long draw on her coffee. “I don’t care.” “No, Randy.” Randy squared off with Crissy. “I said—” Her eyes flashed at him. “Look, Randy, back off. I’ll be fine with Georgie. You said daytime should be okay. If anyone comes out swinging, she can flatten them for me. She does Tae Bo.” Georgie snickered beside her. “Um…that’s Tae kwon do, Cris, but close enough.” “Whatever…” Crissy waved her hand in the air, dismissing the distinction as irrelevant. With a final gulp, she finished her coffee, stood and headed over to the sink to rinse the mug. He followed her. “I’m coming with you.” “No, you’re not,” she stated, each word clipped, not even looking at him. “I’ll just get changed, Georgie. Give me five minutes.” She was not getting changed or going anywhere without him. And it was about time she realized it. He followed her up the stairs. “Crissy. You are not leaving this house without me.” “You’re smothering me.” “You’re in danger! Get used to it…” “Interesting,” Chad offered. He had noticed the amused but thoughtful look on Georgie’s face as she watched her cousin and Randy. That wasn’t all he noticed, either, today or the first time they’d met. Even though she was a tiny little thing, he sensed a spitfire under the laid-back attitude. Of course, the fiery color of her hair could have something to do with that perception. Just how much of a handful would she be? he wondered. “Those two?” Georgie nodded up the stairs. Raised voices filtered down to them. “Yeah, what is with that? You know they remind me of an old married couple.” “My thoughts exactly.” He started to laugh but the sound disintegrated into a weak chuckle as the absolute correctness of her observation hit him—listening to the verbal push and shove between Crissy and Randy reminded him of his own parents. “Interesting, though, that they seem completely unaware, hmmm?” In a sense, he could understand Randy’s fascination. Not that he had designs on Crissy—he could see the fire between the two of them, and it warmed his heart to watch his cousin having to work for what he wanted for once. But for himself, the little lady

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sitting with him now intrigued him more. There was something about the Carter women, some quality—a potent and, to a male, challenging blend of sensuous femininity mixed with blatant independence that promised to test any male—that set them apart from the usual women he and Randy mixed with. “Perhaps my cousin may just have met his match.” “With Crissy?” She laughed. “I hope he deals with frustration well, then. She’s been driving me nuts for years—stubborn, determined, never listens to a word of advice…” “Two peas in a pod. Randy suffers from the same deficiencies. I’m hoping Crissy will give him a run for his money.” He leaned closer and licked his lips. “Now, about you and me…” She leaned closer, the subtle scent of vanilla teasing his senses, her eyes twinkling as she looked him up and down. “I wasn’t aware there was a ‘you and me’.” “Not yet,” he grinned, “but there can be…”

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Chapter Eight “What’s wrong with him?” Ziggy asked. Chad stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles, locking his fingers behind his head. Randy had been kicking around in the outer office for the full ten minutes since they’d arrived. Crissy had won round one. She and Georgie had gone to lunch and then on to “girlie” shopping for the afternoon. The proviso of her being let out without her shadow had been for her to call in every half hour and tell him where she was—and be home well before dark. He’d been especially rigid on that last point. Chad looked at his watch. Another fifteen minutes until she’d call. Hell, at this rate, the outer office would be a pile of matchsticks by the time the first check-in call came through. “Randy is having a bit of woman-trouble.” Ziggy snorted and laughed. “You’re kidding me, right? Randy?” Chad nodded. “Since when?” “You sure you want to hear this?” “What— No! Ah, shit. I thought I told you guys not to mess with the clients anymore.” Chad laughed. “Yeah, well, you forgot to take the old canine mating instinct into it, man. Leastways, that’s my guess.” “Okay, now I know you’re bullshitting me. Randy, mating? No way!” “Zig, you’ve gotta see him and Crissy together. He’s all over her like glue. She can’t even take a breath without he’s there rubbing her diaphragm. But does she have his number! It’s beautiful to watch, Ziggy man. Truly beautiful.” Ziggy sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, well, well. Maybe it’s time I met this lady in the flesh.”

***** Dusk was coming, the sun sitting low in the western sky like a big ball of red and orange fire as Randy tore down the street to Crissy’s. The afternoon had been interminable, and now his whole body was screaming with the need to make sure she was safe. To fuck her. Hold her down until she damn well submitted to him. He sure hoped she enjoyed her little afternoon out, because it would be the last one for a long time. No way would he be going through another day like today—it’d kill him.

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Screeching to a stop outside her house, he threw the truck in park, yanked on the handbrake and jumped out, punching the button on his keys to lock it as he raced down the path to her front door. He slowed as a distinctive smell reached his nostrils, making him curse as the hairs stood up on his neck and along his spine. Wolf. Dammit! Tamping down the urge to throw caution to the wind and blast inside, he crept around to the back. Placing a quick call to Chad to get his butt over there—pronto—he clung to the shadows as he crept around the back to the steps leading to the laundry room. Attached to the house and sharing a landing, the laundry afforded him a clear view into half of the kitchen. A light was on. A soft meow alerted him to Fatso’s presence, and when he searched, he could just see two unblinking eyes staring at him from under a shivering bundle of dirty washing sitting on the floor. Listening closely, he could hear the man’s voice and Crissy’s strained voice as she replied. Craning his head around the doorjamb, what he saw filled him first with terror, followed by furious rage. Georgie was crumpled on the floor, unconscious, wearing a cut lip and a swollen eye. Crissy was tied to one of the kitchen chairs, her ankles secured to the chair legs, and her hands behind her back. Only able to see a thin wedge of profile, but mostly back, nevertheless he could see the knife the man kept slapping against his leg. And recognized it. He owned one himself. A Randall—a commando’s weapon, the deadly seven-inch blade glinting in the light. Fury. Hate. Retribution. Violent emotions surged through him at the sight of his mate, her eyes fearful, but with a hint of defiance, the dampness on her cheeks indication that she’d been crying. And the bastard would pay for every single tear. No one touched his mate and got away with it. He’d kill him, right after he finished tearing him limb from fucking limb. As his murderous rage threatened to overcome him, his vision turned red around the edges and the unmistakable tightening in his body intensified, his eyes narrowing as thick hair started to appear over his hands, up his arms, muscles filling out, changing… The man asked her a question and Crissy shook her head, the blind fear on her face filling Randy with a choking rage. When the man squatted down in front of Crissy, running the tip of the blade along the curve of her throat leaving a string of small beads of bright red blood where the knife nicked her, Randy’s heart picked up its pace, the thumping so loud it almost deafened him. The buttons on his shirt popped as his chest filled out. Taking a step back into the darkness of the laundry room, he gritted his teeth as the change started to surge through him—fast—cloth tearing as his body morphed. Clumsy fingers, curling, nails lengthening into claws, fumbled with his jeans. Stripping them off, he stood naked, his

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head thrown back as a silent howl left his lips. Body shuddering and bones popping and realigning as he completed the change, he gritted his teeth, feeling the strength and power surge through him as he dropped to all fours. He could hear the man’s voice rising, his tone filled with impatience and anger. Crissy’s stuttering as she tried to answer… Randy’s lip curled back over sharp, curved canines, a deep, throaty warning growl rumbling along his body. Padding softly, he moved to the doorway of the kitchen. The knife trailed down over the taut fabric of Crissy’s blouse and with three soft pops, the buttons flipped away, leaving the fabric gaping. He could hear Crissy’s repeated pleas—no, no, no—as the tip of the knife slipped under her bra and with a flick of his wrist, the lace gave way, the release of tension pulling the lacy cups back so they barely covered her nipples. The mumble of voices and then the sharp crack of a slap split the air followed by a cry as the man backhanded her. Randy saw red. Suffocating fury filled him, and with a savage, full-throated roar, he coiled his body and leapt. Sharp talons dug into the man’s back and they rolled, Randy losing his hold as their bodies slammed up against the cabinets. The man twisted and stabbed wildly, and Randy felt the unmistakable chill of cold steel slicing through his hip leaving a trail of burning pain in its wake. He howled. Ignoring the fire shooting down his side, he waited until the man lunged, jumped sideways out of the path of the deadly blade, and grabbed his arm between his teeth, clamping down so hard he felt his teeth scrape against bone, followed by the sickening crunch as they snapped and the man roared in pain. It hardly slowed the bastard down though, and he switched the knife to his other hand, his arm raised to slash downward. Randy released his hold and rolled out of the way just before the deadly blade hit its mark. Getting to his feet, he limped, favoring his left hind leg, but moved to stand in front of Crissy, prepared to defend his mate to the death. The man got to his feet and laughed, a chilling, evil sound, his eyes black and flat like death was staring them in the face. Ripping his shirt open with his good hand, the man shrugged out of the torn fabric, the telltale signs—chest and arm muscles growing, filling out, the hair on his body darkening, thickening into a light pelt, indication of the change starting to take place. To Randy’s surprise, he stopped it before the transformation was complete, instead just giving his body more strength, greater ability to absorb the blows, and brandished the wicked-looking knife in his good hand, ready to lunge again. Dripping blood from the fingertips of his mauled arm, he feinted left and right, laughing, as if it was a game. But the sneering smile on his face collapsed into disbelief as the soft thud of a silenced bullet pushed him back against the wall, where he crumpled to the floor, the knife clattering as it fell, forgotten, as he palmed the crimson bloom spreading across his shirt over his stomach.

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Randy swung his eyes around, seeing the steely resolve in Chad’s as he stepped closer and lowered the gun, kicking the man where he lay, moaning, his eyes wide in disbelief.

***** Randy looked at the top of Crissy’s head as she knelt down and swabbed at the cut on his hip. Apart from answering some questions for Chad and Marcus, she’d hardly said two words. And none of them to him. Cuffed in spite of the hole Chad’s bullet had made, the werewolf had been picked up by one of Marcus’ men and driven back to Marcus’ place for questioning. Once she regained consciousness, a bruised and concussed Georgie had been taken home by Chad, who was determined to stay with her until he knew she was all right. The cops weren’t called. They’d be taking care of this one themselves. Marcus and his cronies had some sort of dungeon they used for detention of wayward vamps, and the werewolf would be kept there until some answers were forthcoming. What gave him shivers every time he thought about it, was that Marcus had ID’d him as Louie, the rapist. Just the thought of that guy’s hands on Crissy was enough to make him want to kill something. But first he had to fix things with his mate. His hand covered hers and stilled it. “Hey, Crissy honey, it’s okay now.” “The cut is deep, you stupid ass.” She looked up at him and rage swelled within him at the red blush of a handprint still coloring her cheek. “A few inches to the right and you could have been singing in the Vienna Boy’s Choir.” “Look, it’s not so bad. I’ll heal quickly. Tomorrow morning you won’t even know it was there.” She stayed silent, but he could feel the tension in her body. She threw the gauze in the bowl. From her kneeling position beside him, she looked up. Her eyes, though full of tears, were flashing fire at him. “You think I’m worried about this little scratch? You think that—” she pointed at the wound that even now was starting to mend, “is all that’s on my mind?” Okay, she was pissed at him. He’d expected that. He braced himself for what was coming. Finding out she was mated to a werewolf would rattle any human woman, he guessed. “Oh, and the fact that I’ve had a guy living with me—sleeping with me–who has the worst case of a five o’clock shadow I’ve ever seen isn’t something you saw fit to mention earlier?” she bit out through gritted teeth. “Look, yes, I’m a werewolf, but it’s not that bad—” “Oh, the fact that you get a little furry isn’t what really bothers me—” “It isn’t?” That confused him, considering very few people knew they existed for real. It wasn’t something they advertised. 79

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“News to you, I guess, but I’m well aware of the existence of weres and vamps, although you might have mentioned it at some point.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips, anger spilling out in every line of her body as she stopped him from speaking. “But you’re a damn dog. I’m living with a dog. I told you, Randy, I don’t do dogs!” What? He surged to his feet, ignoring the small flinch of pain from his wound as he leaned over her until their noses almost touched. “I am not a fucking dog,” he gritted out. “I’m a wolf. A werewolf. And you did me, babe, more than once. And you loved every damn second of it. We both did, so don’t try to deny it.” She glared back at him, hands on hips. “That’s beside the point. I didn’t know.” “And so now you do know and it doesn’t change a fucking thing. You’re stuck with me, Crissy. For your information, that wasn’t some fancy fuck we had earlier. And that isn’t your garden-variety hickey you’re sporting either.” He gritted his teeth as her fingers went directly to the spot where her neck met her shoulder and she gasped even as a shiver passed through her. “Yeah, I mated you, honey. You’re mine. So get used to it.” Her mouth dropped open. “You didn’t! How could you?” “Well, I didn’t exactly plan it. It took me by surprise as much as it did you.” “Rubbish!” “What—you think I make a habit of going around mating human females? Mating is not something I’ve had much experience at, either. Jesus, you think I would have let it get this far if I’d realized? But we’re stuck with each other now, so deal with it.” She flinched as if slapped. “You bastard,” she uttered, her words a whisper. Dammit! He didn’t mean it like that. But she had a way of getting him so damn mad. He needed to cool down before he said anything else. She flopped on the seat he’d vacated and stared, unseeing, at the floor. He prowled around the kitchen, banging on cupboard doors, trying to get his anger under control. Anger at who? At himself? At the bastard who had dared to hurt her? Anger at Crissy for not wanting him? In a moment of heartwrenching clarity, the meaning behind her words hit him. And if he was right, the pain it inflicted burned stronger than the feel of the blade when it pierced his flesh. He stiffened. “You think I’m an animal.” He couldn’t even turn around to say it. Just the thought of the look in her eyes as they confirmed it would have killed him. Silence greeted his words. His eyes lost focus as he withdrew inside. Trying to find a way to deal with the truth, the pain. She’d found the one thing that could really hurt him, and this wound cut deeper than any blade. Dropping his head to his chest, he drew oxygen into his lungs, the little flood of adrenaline making his heart race.

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“R-R-Randy?” The stuttering, indrawn breath that followed sounded off, and snapped his attention around. He felt a moment of alarm as he took in Crissy’s shaking body, her normally tanned face pale and drained. Rushing over, he squatted down in front of her, grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Her cheeks were still damp, her eyes going in and out of focus, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak. “What is it, honey? Tell me! What’s wrong?” Panic filled him. “C-cold. S-so c-cold.” Shit, shock must be setting in. Why hadn’t he thought of it? After what she’d been through that night, she’d been too calm, fixing his wound, acting like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He should have known this would happen. Some useless fucking mate he was. Slipping an arm under her knees, another under her arms, he lifted her off the seat, holding her fast to his chest. Taking the stairs two at a time, he kicked open the door to her bedroom and strode in, sitting her on the bed just long enough to remove her clothes before he lifted her and placed her under the covers. Walking around to the other side of the bed, he slipped under the cool sheet and joined her. With a leg wrapped over hers and his arms tight around her, he held her close, willing the shaking to ease, hoping his body heat would warm her up—fast. Nestling her head under his chin, he ran his hand down her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry, Crissy. So sorry. You try and sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. Just rest…” All through the long hours of the night, he held her close, moving when she moved, turning when she turned, unable to let go for more than a second. Gradually, the tightness in his chest started to ease just a little. But unfamiliar emotions pricked and prodded at him all night. Emotions too intense to put a name to, but that tore at his gut. And when images flew through his head, the memory of her tied to the chair, crying, murderous rage filled him again, along with a terrifying fear that she could’ve been taken from him so easily.

***** A soft snuffle and the tentative wriggling of a curvy body next to him pulled Randy out of the light doze he’d slipped into just before dawn as exhaustion finally beat him down. He breathed in, his heart clenching with unfamiliar feelings of tenderness at the sleepy scent of the woman in his arms, the warmth of their bodies meshed so tightly together. Even though what he’d told her was true, that he hadn’t intended for things to go so far, he’d realized through the long hours of the night that he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. It was more than physical. He’d done “physical” ‘til it bored him

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to death. Crissy, with her laughter, her spirit, the way he caught her looking at him sometimes, the way they just seemed to fit—even when they were fighting—filled all the emptiness that had been growing inside him for months. If only he could convince her of that, make her see, make her understand. Make her realize he was more than an animal—he was a man too. Her man. Maybe there was a way. Maybe sex, for once, wasn’t the answer—to what ailed either of them. No, he needed to show her there was more between them than that. If he could just control his dick for five minutes. He’d show her gentle, that there was more to him than the fucking machine he became whenever he thought of her naked… Gentle…control… The mantra repeated in his mind as he leaned down, searched for her lips, bussing them gently with his. Soft, tender feelings warmed him when she responded. It was such a lovely way to wake up. Her head was filled with the smell of the sexy man holding her—strong, very masculine, so distinctively “Randy”. That, and the feel of his mouth moving over hers, his touch so soft, his caresses so loving that she wanted to sink further into the dream and never wake up. Something niggled at her mind, pushed at her consciousness to wake up, open her eyes, but her head was fuzzy, deliciously so, and she ignored it. Instead, her hand reached between their bodies to the hard erection she could feel brushing against her hip. Grasping it in her hand, she stroked its silky length, smiling to herself at the gasp and small moan from Randy that followed it. “Crissy, no.” Why was he saying no? He was rock-hard, and in spite of his words, his hips pushed his cock through the circle of her fingers. He immediately pulled back, his body tense, but she stopped him by tightening her grip. “Honey, stop—” Her lips moving over his blocked his words. As they opened under hers, her tongue slipped inside. Although he held his body back, he couldn’t hide his response. Every caress of his tongue, every nibble and lick, his hunger met hers, matched hers. “Please, Randy.” She tried to urge him closer, with hands and hips, to where she needed him to be. “I need you.” “Ahhh, Crissy…” With the thready sigh of his words against her neck, the tension left his body, and he softened into her. She was aware of the shift of his weight, and spread her legs under the gentle nudging of his as he moved over her, fitting into the cradle of her thighs. When he slowly, so very slowly, slid the swollen length of his erection inside along the moist walls of her channel, she moaned with the feeling of fullness and arched up against him.

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Decadently sensuous, overwhelmingly erotic, the slide and withdraw as he moved on top of her, inside her, the tug and suckle on her nipples, she felt like a mass of quivering, ultrasensitive nerve endings. “I love being inside you. So much,” he whispered in her ear before nibbling a ragged line down her neck and over her shoulder. “It’s heaven…” A broad hand smoothed down over her hip, reaching lower to cup her buttock before his hand wrapped under her thigh and lifted her leg higher so he could sink deeper, a groan leaving his lips as every inch buried a slow, burning path into the depths of her cunt. “Yeah, oh yeah…” Each sensual glide of his cock as he moved inside her rubbed against her clit, the friction sending shards of sensation along the pleasure pathways to lodge in every erogenous zone in her body. Heat surrounded them. She was free-falling, the indescribable feeling of her climax gathering, surging through her. And when his lips closed over the tender spot on her neck and clamped gently, sucking hard, it was like a conduit straight through to her clit and she arched once more, rubbing against him, forcing him deeper as her world shattered into a million pieces. A startling feeling of rightness, of completeness settled in her body and mind and she smiled as she opened her eyes, seeing those warm, brown eyes watching her intently. “‘Morning, beautiful.” “Hi.” He kissed her softly—eyes, nose, finally settling on her lips. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” “Forgive?” Oh, shit.

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Chapter Nine She forced her eyes open, in spite of the heavy, leaden feeling partly caused by the aftereffects of total sexual satiation that always seemed to follow sex with Randy. But she needed to clear her head. An almost impossible task with the scent of sex and Randy currently fogging her brain, reducing her IQ to that of a mindless nitwit. She struggled to free herself from the tangle of limbs—surprisingly, Randy let her go—and stumbled out of bed, catching her foot in the sheet before she ungracefully righted herself. “Crissy? What are you doing? Where are you going?” “Shower.” God, even out of his immediate vicinity, she was still reduced to one word sentences. “Okay. We can shower together.” He stood, in all his naked glory, his cock still slick and glistening, an impressive sight she was finding harder and harder to resist. Hungry eyes ran over every inch of him from top to bottom. There was nothing to mar the perfection of his beautiful body—even his wound was all but gone, a faint pink line all that was left. And the way his muscles rippled as he moved—it was enough to start her drooling and beating a path back to the bed. No, she had to think. Think. Yes. She held her hand up as she backed toward the door. “No! No.” Disappointment and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a touch of hurt flickered in his eyes in the brief glimpse she had before she backed into the bathroom and shut the door. What was she missing? Leaning back against the door, she sighed. Think, girl, think. She turned the shower on, clipping up her hair while she waited for the water to heat and then stepped in. She ran the soapy loofah over her skin, shivering with unexpected delight as she lightly cleansed her sensitive nipples. An arc of sensation shot straight to her cunt and she muffled the needy groan against her hand. This was ridiculous. Ever since Randy moved in, she felt like a permanent orgasm waiting to go off. Trying to wash herself without touching any more sensitive spots wasn’t easy, but gritting her teeth she managed. With a sigh of relief she rinsed off. Then, standing under the steaming stream, letting the warm water pelt on her back, relaxing her, she closed her eyes and tried to pull her thoughts together. First, it wasn’t the whole werewolf thing that fazed her. Finding out her first lover was a vamp had taken care of any surprise from that quarter. If she could get used to the idea of dating a vampire, a werewolf was a no-brainer. Sure, René had told her before he took her to bed, but if Randy was to believed, then he’d been just as swept

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away by their volatile reaction to each other as she was. Even the whole dog/wolf thing she could get over. He was more man than animal, and she kinda liked the animal in him too. Especially when he got wild in bed. But there was an ache in her heart that was completely at odds with the satisfaction her body was feeling. That was the crux. She wanted more than a biological urge to be holding them together. To quote Randy, they were stuck with each other… That was it. That was the source of the hurt, the pain she was feeling. Like the idea was so distasteful to him. She didn’t want to be mated to a man…werewolf…whatever, who didn’t love her too. Her head snapped up and her eyes blinked open, water trickling over her face making her blink as the shock hit her. Love her too? Oh, no! She couldn’t! Images of Randy flickered through her mind—the way he protected her, always hovering over her, the feel of his hands on her, the teasing, even cooking for her… No man had ever done that for her before. The giddy, schoolgirl way her heart started to pound whenever she smelled him come up behind her, the possessive rake of his hands over her body. And when he wasn’t being a total ass, the gentle, caring side to him. She leaned back against the tiles and sighed. Who was she fooling? She liked the way he protected her, even the overbearing possessive streak appealed—not that she’d ever tell him that. But sadly, it wasn’t enough. That was the problem. Her problem. And his. Theirs. And she wouldn’t stay with a man—mate, husband, whatever—who didn’t love her. The thought of that sent a sharp pain through her chest and brought tears to her eyes. She lingered in the shower for as long as she could, delaying facing him. When the hot water started to run out, she switched off the taps. Her time was up. She dried off slowly, wrapping a towel around her. Hoping he was downstairs, she opened the door a crack to find him leaning against the doorjamb. Arms crossed over his chest, waiting where she’d left him, his eyes concerned, questioning as they searched hers. “You could’ve used the other bathroom.” She looked for a way to slip by him, but his bulk was blocking the doorway. “But what I wanted wasn’t in there.” “Well, I guess you’re out of luck.” She looked behind her, but there was none of his stuff to be seen. “Nothing of yours in here.” “Something very important, very, very special to me is in there.” A shadow passed over his expressive eyes. “What?” He lifted her chin with a single finger. “You, honey. I want you.” The huskiness of his voice did things to her body she tried hard to ignore. “No, you don’t. Last night, you said—” “Last night I was an ass.”

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The hands clasping her towel landed on his chest with a thump as she was pulled against him. She didn’t have time to make sense of his words—in the next second his lips settled on hers stilling any protest she could possibly make.

***** He was driving her nuts. The kiss and the apology had gone a long way to getting him out of the doghouse, but he was still missing the point. He must have sensed something was still wrong. Every time she turned around, he was there, hovering, watching her like she was a bug under a microscope. Exasperated, nearly ready to scream, she escaped to her darkroom just to get some breathing space. After she finished developing some films she’d had sitting there for a month waiting until she had some time, she went around and cleaned all her tanks and racks, did an inventory, even checked over and cleaned every single camera she owned, changed batteries—general maintenance stuff she normally put off until she was bored. But in the end, she knew she had to go outside and face him again. She wasn’t a coward. She was not going to wimp out. She’d handle it…him—there wasn’t any choice. The minute she opened the door, he was there, in her face. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Crissy?” “Hmmm?” she muttered as she ducked around him to head back into the kitchen. “For chrissakes. Stop avoiding me. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Depends on how you define ‘okay’,” she muttered to herself. The muted chimes of the doorbell filtered down the hallway. “Oh, look at that,” she said, a relieved smile on her face. “Saved by the bell.” “That’ll be Chad and Zig,” he said, moving her to the side as he brushed past her to reach the door first. Zig? Who the hell was “Zig”? She stood back as Chad walked in, followed by a tall hunk of a honey that—now that she looked a little more closely—bore a striking resemblance to Randy. More serious-looking, but definitely a family resemblance. Well, this should be fun. She grinned at Chad when he reached down and swooped his arm around her, bending her over and nipping at her ear ‘til she laughed. He lifted his head and winked at her when a low, warning rumble came from Randy’s direction. “Hey, pretty lady. How’s it goin’ today? You okay?” He held her at arm’s length as he surveyed her face. “Nice color scheme. That pinky-purple is definitely your color.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Oh, and the guy over there is nobody. Just call him Zig.”

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She smiled at the man and held out her hand, momentarily taken aback by the unusual color of his eyes—a lustrous, golden amber. It reminded her of warm, rich honey. “Hi, Zig. I’m Crissy. You connected to these two vagrants, or don’t want to admit to it?” He took her hand, his grip firm and warm. “Nice to finally meet you, Crissy. I’m Randy’s brother, and their unofficial boss. I run the agency.” “Tough job. I don’t envy you.” “Okay,” said Randy, opening the door again. “Are we done? It was really nice of you to call, but shouldn’t you two be going?” “Randy!” Crissy slapped his arm. “Don’t be rude. Come on in, guys.” She led the way down the hall, leaving a frustrated Randy behind. Randy watched from the doorway as Crissy got down mugs and poured coffee for Chad, sprawled in his usual “make myself at home” state, and Ziggy. Just watching the way she moved, the way her ass wiggled inside those short-shorts, and that husky little laugh got him hot. But it wasn’t the wanting in his cock that was uppermost in his mind for once. Strangely it was the need he felt to touch her. Just connect in some physical way that had nothing to do with sex. That morning in bed had set off something in his head, a vision of how it could be between them. Until he’d gone and opened his big mouth. “So, Ziggy…” In the back of his mind, he recognized the mischievous tone in Crissy’s voice and he sharpened his attention on her. “Since you’re Randy’s brother, does that mean you bark as well as bite too?” Randy frowned. Chad’s burst of laughter made him want to hit him. Even Ziggy laughed, damn him. “Crissy,” Randy warned. “So, the bite’s all it’s cracked up to be?” Ziggy asked her, watching her closely and laughing as a blush stole up her neck. “Shut up, Zig,” gritted out Randy. “Just curious.” Ziggy sat back and took another sip of his coffee, eyes glinting with humor over the top of his mug. “Yeah, well you know what they said about curiosity…” grunted Randy. Ziggy laughed out loud, Chad joining in. “Wrong species, bro. Now, if we were to ask—” Randy cut off his brother’s words by standing in front of him and grabbing the almost empty cup out of his hand. “Isn’t there some place you need to be?” he asked pointedly.

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At that moment, Fatso padded in, no doubt disturbed by the noise and wanting to check out the company. As usual, he made a beeline for Chad and rubbed against his leg until he leaned down and scratched behind his ears. “That reminds me, Chad…” said Crissy. Uh-oh, thought Randy. Here it comes… “What about you? You’re their cousin. Do you, you know, bark, too?” “Well, chere, if you’d given me half a chance, you would’ve find out that I don’t bark…” Chad stood with his empty cup and rubbed up against Crissy, “but I do purrrrrrr, baby. You just gotta rub me the right way.” He ducked to the side as Randy lunged at him, placing his cup on the sink with a laugh. She rolled her eyes at the overt suggestiveness of the comment and looked at him curiously. “You mean, you’re a—” “Werecat, sugah. Why do you think Fatso and I get on so well—he can tell a superior breed.” “But how?” She glanced at Ziggy and Randy and then back to Chad. “I mean, you’re cousins, and Randy and Ziggy are…” Confusion was plain on her face. “We have a very strange family. Even by our standards. Get Randy to tell you all about it sometime.”

***** Hand resting lightly on her shoulder as he stood behind her, they watched as Chad and Ziggy drove off. The afternoon had been interminable. They turned as one and walked back down the hall. He subtly steered her in the direction of old leather couch he’d been relegated to a couple of nights before in the living room and sat down, holding out his hand for her to take. Her eyes, curious and questioning, held his, but she took his hand and allowed him to pull her closer until she was close enough for his hands to grasp her waist. He eased her sideways onto his lap, wrapping his arms loosely around her upright frame. “Hey, what’s up?” “Do you have to work tonight?” he asked. “No. Why?” “Because tonight I want it to just be the two of us. We need time to talk, Cris.” He brushed a blonde lock away from her face, running his fingers through the silky feel before tucking it behind the shell of her ear. “And I know this great little place that does the best gumbo in Louisiana.” “You asking me out on a date, Randy?” Her eyes wide, she held her hand over her heart in mock surprise. She was teasing him, thank God. He’d take that any day over the hurt he’d seen in her eyes earlier, knowing that he was responsible. He smiled back. “Yeah, I guess you

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could say that.” He traced a finger along the graceful curve of her jaw, his finger delighting in the soft velvet of her skin. “I know we did this whole thing backwards, but I would have asked you out five months ago, if I’d been able to find you.” She leaned into him, sitting her head on his shoulder, her hand settling on his chest and drawing small circles over the fabric of his T-shirt. “Well then, maybe for once I agree with you. We need to catch up. See if…” Each word puffed a small breath of warm air on his neck. “See if this—us, will work.” Her words, her tone, made him pause, but he was distracted when her warm lips placed a delicate kiss on his neck. His hand moved up her back to her head, and he held her lightly in place, rubbing his cheek across the top of her head. It was a quiet, intimate moment. One of few they’d had since the whole crazy mess started, and he relished every second of it. It filled his soul in a way he’d never needed, never missed until now. “We can make this work, Crissy. We just need to give it a chance. Need to give each other a chance.” “You sound like you want to.” “I do,” he said. And this time, with this woman, it wasn’t a line. He knew he meant every word.

***** “So let me see if I’ve got this straight…” They were sitting in a back booth of the little café, the table so small their knees bumped underneath. The small candle flickered between them, casting a golden glow over her features. But she was smiling at him, a relaxed, easy smile. “Your mother and Chad’s mother are sisters.” “Yes.” “And your mother married a werewolf.” “Uh-huh.” “And Chad’s mom married a werecat.” “You got it.” “That’s very weird, Randy,” she said with a smirk. He laughed easily. “Tell me about it. When we were kids, we lived out in the country, Chad’s family across the field from us. Well, Ziggy and I would be out with a few of our werewolf buds and we’d decide to shift and go for a run…you know, tear up the countryside, pretty much like normal teenagers. But whenever we went somewhere, we had to take Chad with us, keep him out of trouble. Pain in the neck, he was too. Like a really annoying little brother.”

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“I take it he hasn’t changed much over the years.” Randy grinned, enjoying the way her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “You got that right. So we’d all shift and start to howl, just letting it out, feeling good, and in the background there’d come this sort of hoarse coughing. That’d be Chad. Like he was coughing up a watermelon-sized furball or something. Talk about embarrassing…” They both laughed. “You sound like you had a fun childhood.” “Yeah, it was pretty cool.” “What about your parents… What are they like?” “Mom’s going to be thrilled to meet you, honey. I think she thought Zig and I would never settle down.” “She’s not the only one, I’m thinking.” He took her hand, running his thumb over her wrist. “You mean me?” She nodded. “I’m not sorry.” “We’ll see. You haven’t seen me at my worst yet.” “God, you mean there’s more?” His eyes widened. “Don’t be a wiseass. What about your mom? What’s she like?” “Mom’s a beautiful lady. Tiny, like Georgie. I think you’ll really like her.” “Her name?” “Violet. But don’t call her that—she hates it. Just Vi. Mom’s kinda quiet, but determined. Keeps Dad in line, that’s for sure.” He laughed. “He likes to think he’s in control, but when Mom bats her eyelashes at him and starts with the ‘please, Rod…’ he mimicked a higher-pitched feminine voice and fluttered his eyelashes, “Dad’s a goner.” “Hmmm…maybe I could take lessons,” she suggested impishly. “Honey, you don’t need lessons.” Didn’t she know she already had him wrapped around her little finger? She let that comment slide without comment. Maybe she did know. “And your dad?” “Dad’s just Dad. According to Mom he was a bit of a wild man before he met her. He met Mom, though, and boom—that was it. He’s tall, taller than me and Zig. And Mom’s so short…” He shook his head, amused. “Is Chad’s mom just like Vi?” “Aunt Isabel? Hell, no. They’re about as different as two sisters could be. Aunt Izzy’s a livewire. Poor Uncle George…” “Why?”

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“Well, cats don’t generally mate—not for life, anyway, like wolves do.” He paused, wondering if she was aware of that fact, and made a mental note to come back to it at some point. “But you’ve gotta see him and Aunt Izzy… He’s all over her like a rash. They’ve been married now for thirty years, or thereabouts, but still, any male comes within ten feet of her and instantly he’s on guard. His hackles are up and he’s breathing fire. But then, I think she gets a kick outta stirring the old boy up. Probably why they had so many kids…” “God, you mean there are more like Chad out there?” “Well, he’s the eldest of the litter, but there are three sisters below him and two younger brothers following them. Aunt Izzy told George after the last one, Danny, to tie a knot in it because she wasn’t having any more.” “They sound like a fun family, Randy.” “Crazy, but fun, I guess.” She scratched at a spot on the checkered tablecloth and cleared her throat. “Speaking of kids…” He tensed. “Yes?” She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “We didn’t use any protection, Randy.” “No, we didn’t.” “What if… What will… Oh, hell.” She glanced away. A chill ran down his body, the warmth of moments ago dissipating in a snap as a disquieting suspicion started to filter in. “Spit it out, Crissy.” His words came out more sharply than he intended and she stiffened. “Fine. I’m not on the pill, Randy. And you didn’t use a condom.” “Not this time, no.” “And? Help me out here, for God’s sake.” His sat back, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you wanted kids, Crissy.” “I do, but—” The band around his chest tightened so that he could hardly breathe. “But you don’t want to risk they might come out a little bit furry, is that it?” Her eyes widened, but he couldn’t stop himself, the pain of that knowledge driving him. “Well, you won’t have to worry about it, sweetheart, since you’re not fertile—yet.” He pushed his chair back so that it scraped across the tiles, and made to stand. Crissy’s hands shot out to cover his, stopping him. “No! Wait.” Her eyes watered, her tone softened. “Talk to me, Randy. Don’t shut me out. I need to know. Hell, this has been enough of a shock—the last week has been a shock in more ways than one. Don’t— Don’t go. Sit down and explain, Randy. Please.”

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Her tears undid him, making him feel like a jerk. One tumbled over her lid and he reached to catch it with a fingertip as it slid a glistening trail down her cheek. She covered his hand with hers and turned her face until she could lay a kiss on the palm. Keeping hold of her hand, he sat, playing with her fingers while he put the words together in his head. “The pregnancy is a bit shorter, but the pup—” He could have bitten his tongue when she gasped. “The babies come out normal-looking. No tails. No barking instead of crying—just normal babies. Changes don’t start to occur until they’re about five, sometimes older.” “Okay.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a watery smile. “Thanks for telling me, Randy. But what did you mean that I’m not fertile yet? I should be, or I should be soon. I’m…well I’m in the middle of my cycle.” He grimaced. “I can smell it, honey. When you’re ovulating.” “You can smell me?” Her eyebrows rose. He nodded. “It’s foolproof?” “Guaranteed.” She grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Wow. Neat.” Relief pouring through him, he returned her smile. “The advanced sense of smell does come in handy on occasion. So, you’re cool with this? I mean, you want to talk to Mom about it? She wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” “Not right now. The rest can wait.” God, he’d come so close to blowing it. Relief wasn’t the word for what he was feeling. Reaching across the narrow space, he cupped her face in his palms and kissed her gently. He was still rocked by the pain he’d felt when he thought she didn’t want to have kids. Him. Who’d never looked at a woman before Crissy except to wonder how quickly he could fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. He cleared his throat at the emotions bombarding him. “Okay, enough about me. What about your family?” “Georgie, and her mom and dad. My brother, Pete, lives in Canada with his wife, so I hardly ever see him. Pete’s eight years older than me. Dad was, let’s see, about twenty years older than Mom when they married. He’s been gone now for nearly fifteen years—heart attack. Mom died five years ago. That’s about it.” She shrugged and tried to smile. He meshed his fingers through hers and lifted them to his lips. “Come on, let’s go home.” He signaled for the check, pulling out his wallet and slipping enough under the bill to cover it, and stood.

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As they walked back along Royal, Randy’s arm around her waist, hers around his, they window-shopped at some of the antique stores, just strolling along, not in any hurry. The night was muggy, the air thick and humid like a storm was threatening. “I think we’re going to get wet, Randy.” His cock hardened in an instant and he slipped her a half grin. “I’m trying to be good here, babe. Saying things like that don’t help.” He’d been trying to keep himself under control all night, give her time to get to know him, make up for the last few days. But even the long skirt Crissy had put on to complement the gauzy peasant top she wore, was sheer enough that his mind could easily fill in the blanks of what his eyes couldn’t see. “All the more reason to hurry—” The rest of her words were drowned out in a crack of thunder that boomed overhead. That was all the warning they had. With the suddenness that is so common in New Orleans, the skies opened up. As the swollen drops fell, picking up speed from a shower to a torrential downpour, they started to race down the street, laughing like a couple of teenagers, the rain soaking them to the skin. Suddenly Randy changed direction and pulled them into Pirate’s Alley, splashing through the channel of water that ran in a small stream down the center of the alley. The unevenness of the cobblestones caught her shoe and she nearly slipped—would have if not for Randy. Escaping the worst of the rain, they ducked under the awnings of the brightly painted shops they passed, and stopped in an alcove that offered them slightly more protection. Even over the drumming beat of the rain on the roofs and awnings, the sound of their breathing was loud. Her heart was pounding in excitement. Gentle, masculine fingers pushed back the sodden strands of hair from her face, and his eyes held hers, a tender smile creasing his face. “You’re beautiful, Crissy. So damn beautiful.” Even though her skin was wet and chilled from the sudden deluge, the touch of Randy’s lips on hers was like a brand, searing her, heating her, so that she felt the warmth all the way down to her pussy. No rush, as if they had all the time in the world, he made love to her mouth— teasing, nibbling, licking, and when she was nearly crying out at the unbearable tenderness of it, his tongue slipped into the warmth of her mouth, the heat of it sliding along hers sending warm ripples of sensation and sensual hunger through her whole body. Her cunt lips swelled, juices slipping down to slicken her thighs. He held her close, the heat of his body warming her, his groin pushing against her so that she felt every inch of his rock-hard erection cushioned against her tummy. His mouth found her ear and he nibbled on the lobe briefly and moaned. “I want to be inside you so fucking bad,” he gritted out.

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She wanted that too, to feel him easing his cock inside her, filling her. With a primal urgency, she wanted to feel him come, shooting his seed deep inside her, easing the needy ache that came every time she thought about him fucking her. His lips on hers stilled as she moved her hand in between them and slid down the zipper on his jeans. Briefly, she rubbed his cock through the fabric of his briefs. When she slipped her hand inside and wrapped her fingers around it, so hot and silky against her flesh, he moaned. “Don’t play with me, babe, please. I’m so fucking horny I’ll go off in your hand.” “Well then, we don’t want to waste it, do we…” His hand had worked its way up underneath the saturated fabric of her blouse, the warmth of his palm in stark contrast to the chill of her flesh. His mouth was busy nibbling on her neck, making her arch her head back. “Randy?” “Yeah?” “Feel how wet I am.” “Oh, Jesus…” But his hand snaked down, easing up the hem of her skirt until the side of it was bunched up around her waist. Moving over her stomach, his fingers moved lower until they stopped abruptly, and then traveled down to cup her mound. “You’re not wearing panties, Crissy. Jesus, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I thought you would have been able to tell.” “Christ, if I’d known we never would have left the house!” His finger moved slowly along the lips of her pussy, separating them, and then inside her, setting up a brief but gentle rhythm before a muttered curse left his lips and a second finger joined the first. “Is that all for me, honey? All that cream because you’re thinking about me? About me fucking you?” “Yes,” she whispered. “I want you, Randy. When you’re not inside me, I don’t feel…complete. I don’t understand it. It’s never been like this before…” With his free hand he lifted her leg up, hooking an arm under her, bending the knee up and out, opening her wide. “I know what you mean. Crissy, I’ve got to get inside you, honey, or I’m gonna die. Help me. Guide me in. Quick!” He dipped his knees as her hand guided the tip of his cock to the lips of her pussy. “That’s it, babe. Just the head…” Hot, searing, the flared crown of his cock pushed inside, stretching the swollen lips around the knob until it was nestled in the heat of her cunt. He was so thick that even that small amount could make her feel full. “Yeah, Crissy. Oh, hell yeah.” 94

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She squirmed, trying to push down on his shaft, but his hold on her leg made it difficult. “Slow down,” he said, his breathing rough, “just nice and slow. I want to feel every single inch as it slides inside. Oh, Christ, that feels fantastic.” Gritting her teeth, she held back, her legs going weak at the feel of him pulling back slightly before easing back inside another inch each time. Already her walls were clamping down on him. At this rate, she’d be coming before he got all the way in. His lips found her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, stroking it seductively. She could taste the caffe latte he’d had before they left. And further down, his cock sliding with the same seductiveness as his tongue, he worked in the final few inches until he was fully seated inside her, until she was stretched and filled. A moan escaped, his mouth swallowing up the sound as her body jerked in response. Her arms tight around his neck, she was inhaling deeply through her nostrils, reluctant to break the seal of their lips. Teasing a nipple between his finger and thumb, he caressed the ultrasensitive nub before pinching it abruptly. A sharp cry escaped as his mouth broke from hers. “Now, let’s see if I can make you come.” If only he knew…the question wasn’t if, but how quickly. She felt like a firecracker about to explode. Working his hips, his cock tunneled in and out, every stroke and withdraw taking her closer, higher, and she bit her lip to muffle the panting as he ground against her clit each time. “Randy…honey…I’m…I can’t hold on…much longer.” Hell, he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to linger, to watch her come again and again and swallow those little moans… The cool breeze on his back reminded him of where they were, and though the rain was still coming down, he could hear it starting to ease. Dammit! Soon their cozy little alcove wouldn’t be quite so private anymore. He increased his thrusts as the scent of her excitement rising up between their bodies like the steam from the damp ground, eddied in the air, a spicy tang that drugged his senses. Each time he nudged her womb with the tip of his cock, he grunted with the pleasure that shot down his shaft. Just that was enough to send shock waves down the length of his cock so that the skin around his balls puckered as they pulled up tight against the base. “If we were home right now…” “Uh-huh?” “I’d be turning you over, spreading the cheeks of that gorgeous ass…” “Yes…” “And sliding my cock, all slick and wet with your juices, inside that tight hole…”

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“Randy!” “And I’d be fucking you until you came apart and your ass gripped my cock like a tight fist.” The imagery was meant for her, but it hit him hard, picturing his cock sliding into the little reddened pucker of flesh as it flowered open around him. He began pounding into her, mindless to the noise they made, biting at her mouth, sealing his lips to hers to muffle the grunts and moans as they both exploded. It took a moment for them to catch their breath. He kissed her hard then withdrew his cock. Her skirt dropped down, and he helped her straighten her top before tucking his cock back inside his Jockeys and zipping his jeans up. When he’d come, he’d exploded so strongly inside her, for so long, his need for her so great, that he knew their combined juices would be starting to trickle down her thigh. The thought of that brought out such strong territorial feelings that it shocked and surprised him. But all around them, the scent of the two of them together was like an aphrodisiac. He had to get her home. Even now, thinking about her naked underneath him was enough to make his cock start to harden again. The constant drumming of the rain began to ease, and as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s go home, honey.” The night was still warm, although the humidity had eased off for a bit. But by the time they turned onto Esplanade, Crissy’s clothes had begun to dry. As they approached the house, a flicker of movement, nothing more than shifting shadows, caught in his peripheral vision and made Randy turn quickly, his grip on Crissy tightening. His blood turned cold at the sight of the four men stalking toward them, light from the single street lamp glinting off the blades they waved menacingly. Shit! The guy nearest, a nasty scar bisecting his eyebrow and carrying on down the right side of his face to end sharply at his lip like a grotesque, swollen exclamation mark, spoke first. “Hand over the lady, bud.” Not in this fucking lifetime, bud. He shifted Crissy behind him, holding her close with an arm wrapped around her back. “I don’t think so. What do you want with her? Who sent you?” “You’re not in any position to ask questions. I said, hand her over.” Randy watched cautiously as the other three men started to circle around them, and he stepped back, keeping Crissy with him, trying to prevent one of them from getting behind him and Crissy. He could feel her hands bunching in the leather of his jacket, the nervous movement communicating her fear. 96

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“Who wants her?” There was a swirling eddy of menace in the air, so strong it made every hair on his body bristle in response. Scarface sneered. “Just give us the broad and you won’t get hurt…much.” He chuckled at his accomplices, a sick, lopsided rictus made distorted by the stiffened skin around the scar. “You think I’m just going to hand her over, you’re fucking nuts!” In one wellpracticed move, he reached inside his jacket and pulled his gun out of its holster, swinging the pistol in a wide arc to cover all of the men. “And the first guy to try, is going to be alligator bait.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the others rushing toward him, and he flicked a glance in his direction to snap off a quick shot. A sharp report pierced the night, and the assailant dropped with a howl, holding his shattered thigh. One down. The rest moved in.

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Chapter Ten It was impossible to keep them all in his sights. An arm was pulled back, the dull glint off a blade and Randy fired off another shot. Missed. He spun around, hearing a sharp denial from Crissy and her arms trying to hold on around his waist as another man wrenched her away from him. As he reached out and tried to grab for her, he grunted and stopped as a burn flared in the shoulder of his gun arm, a knife slicing cleanly through fabric and finally lodging deep in the muscle. Shit. His hand rendered useless, the gun clattered onto the street. Pain shot through his arm as he pulled the knife free, grunting as the sharp edge seared and tore his flesh. He glanced around for Crissy, a growl erupting as he saw her being yanked roughly away. Before he could move in her direction, his arms were wrenched behind his back and held tight, leaving him gasping with the pain. “Now that was just plain dumb.” Randy gritted his teeth and held his breath as Crissy was pulled up against the chest of Scarface, one arm around her waist, the other hand holding the knife to her neck. Oh, baby, I’m so sorry… Scarface frowned. “Now you’ve got my boys mad, and we might just have to take it out on the lady. The boss didn’t say nothing about her arriving in pris-teen shape. Whaddya say, boys? You feel like a bit of fun before we finish this loser off?” He laughed, the sound dripping with malevolence. “Maybe he even wants to watch.” Heart pounding in his chest, Randy couldn’t tear his eyes away from Crissy, from the frozen look of terror on her face. “Hey, Franco. Come over here.” The thug standing closest to Scarface wandered over. “Whaddya think, Franco? Them’s great tits, huh?” Scarface’s eyes leered over Crissy’s shoulder at the thin fabric pulled tight across her chest. “Why don’t you show ‘em so that Mr. Macho there can get a good look.” Randy nearly howled when the filthy bastard grabbed the neckline of Crissy’s top, yanking it sharply, the thin fabric surrendering to the sudden force and gaping open in two pieces. But just as “Franco” got his hands on them, twisting the nipples to Crissy’s muted mewl of pain, he stopped, disbelief spreading over his face. He dropped to the ground, a neat hole in the center of his forehead. Scarface spun around, holding Crissy in front of him like a shield. “Who is it? Who’s there?” “You really don’t want to know, scumbag,” came a deep voice out of the dark. 98

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Randy’s senses were rioting. Vamp! Jeesus, could it get any worse? “Hand over the lady, nice and slow, and you might live to see another day.” “Who the hell are you? You don’t work for the boss.” “True. Guess you could say I…freelance.” A soft pop was followed by a groan as the man holding Randy loosened his grip and moaned, before falling to the ground. “You’ll let me go?” “Sure. Release her and move away. Before I change my mind and stop feeling so generous.” Scarface immediately pushed Crissy away from him, backing away as he did so, leaving Crissy standing frozen in place, clothes in disarray, a look of complete shock replacing the terror of just seconds before. Admittedly, the new guy looked pretty scary—ankle-length, black leather coat, long dark hair—the effect was menacing, deadly. Then the man smiled and white teeth flashed in the moonlight. Scarface let out a cry as a bullet tore into his abdomen. He looked up stupidly. “Bbut you said…” The white teeth flashed again. “Sorry, changed my mind.” He took another step closer and held out his hand to Crissy. “Hello, Sunshine.” Randy stood unflinching as pain from his wound streaked through his body. Absently he registered the trickle of blood down his arm and placed his hand over it, feeling it come away wet and sticky. Still, he took a few steps toward Crissy, determined to get her to safety. The gun swung around in his direction. “Don’t move, wolf-man. I’d hate to have to shoot you too.” Crissy still hadn’t moved. “R-René? Is it really you?” Her words, soft, trembling, echoed her disbelief. Oh, fucking hell. He remembered that name. This was the vamp, the one who always seemed to be around. He glanced at Crissy’s face and his heart started to pound and race at the look in her eyes. So it was true. This vamp’s “Christina”, Crissy—it was his Crissy. Oh hell! “Yes, Sunshine, it’s me.” A soft warning growl slipped out through Randy’s lips as she took a step toward René. “Crissy! No!” he cried out. No flinch, no flutter of an eyelash. It was as if she never even heard him. “But how? I thought…I don’t understand…” She reached up to touch the vamp, as if to reassure herself that he was real, not some figment of her imagination. With a pointed look at Randy, the mysterious man grabbed Crissy and was gone. 99

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Randy dropped to the ground, holding his wounded shoulder and gritting his teeth against the pain. Goddammit! What now? Blinking stupidly, Crissy stood mute, unable to believe her eyes as she held the torn pieces of her blouse together over goose-bumped flesh. What the hell had just happened? With a nervous glance, she took in the unfamiliar room. Dark, save for the two lamps and the fire flickering in a huge marble hearth, windowless, the room, nevertheless, was sumptuously furnished—antique furniture, huge four-poster bed with silk canopy. She wondered absently where they were and, more importantly, how they’d gotten here. Her eyes returned to the man in front of her, taking in the roughly handsome cast of his face in the candlelight. Sinfully sexy lips. Ocean blue eyes a girl could drown in. The long brown hair that flowed over his shoulders. All so heartbreakingly familiar. Like the notes from a favorite song, the memories washed over her. It was as if the last ten years had just faded away and she was twenty again. Her eyes watered, and she blinked furiously to stop the spill onto her cheeks. “René? What just happened? Who were those men? And what about Randy? Whatwhat are you doing here?” Questions…so many questions. Feeling unsteady, she looked around for a chair. Spotting an antique brocade couch a few steps away, she backed up to it on trembling legs and lowered herself onto it. René watched her intently in that way of his that felt like he could read her mind. From somewhere deep inside, tucked under a mountain of lost dreams and a tear in her heart that she’d long thought had healed over, a disbelieving sob broke free. Followed by another. Suddenly, he moved, shrugging off his coat and sitting next to her as he draped it over her shoulders. “Shh, Sunshine. It’s just the shock.” “Shock? Shock?” Emotions—old, almost forgotten, a mixture of pleasure and pain—bombarded her senses. Pleasure at the memories of her first lover. Her first love. The man who had shown her the indescribable delight to be found in making love to someone who held your heart. Pain from waking up alone one morning and finding him gone, her heart in pieces. “I thought… She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I thought you were dead. I heard…” She choked back a cry, vaguely aware in some part of her consciousness that René had wrapped her up in his arms and was holding her tightly. The smell of him was so familiar, an indefinable medley of scents that triggered memories she had thought were dead and buried.

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“I know, Christina. I had to leave. It was too dangerous for me to stay.” She lifted her head and searched his eyes, confusion streaking through her. “Dangerous? How? Was someone trying to hurt you?” “Not directly.” His eyes bored into hers, their stormy depths filled with a degree of pain she could only guess at. It was some moments before he spoke. “I’m sorry to come back now and disrupt your life.” He reached up to brush errant strands of hair back off her face, the gentle touch achingly familiar. “I never meant to cause you pain.” “So why now?” “You were in danger.” “Yes, but how did you know? “You have many questions you need answered. And there is something I need to be certain of too, Sunshine.” Just hearing him call her that… He’d liked to say she was his ray of sunshine, the one bright spot in his dark world. The voice was so familiar, the scent of him that had filled her head for months after he’d gone, so close now, and all the questions she’d asked, cried out in the night for months afterward, spilled from her lips. Tears tumbled in a slow line down her cheeks, but she was unable to stop them. It felt like her heart was breaking all over again. “I want to know, René. I want to know why you left. Who was hurting you? Why couldn’t you talk to me about it?” He leaned his forehead against hers. Inhaling deeply. “I’ve missed you, sweet. Every single day.” “René…” His head lifted, intense eyes catching hers, eyes so tortured as to make her breath catch in her throat. “Of all people, you were the one I couldn’t talk to, because…” His words trailed off into the night, the thought left flapping in the breeze like the tatters strands of a broken dream. And then came the realization, the knowing. The understanding. She wriggled around on the seat until she faced him. “Who, me?” A small flinch sharpened the already tight line of his jaw, confirmation of her words. “You left because of me? But I would never have hurt you. I loved you. I thought you loved me.” “There was a reason, sweet.” The same strong hands she remembered, long, tapered fingers, reached up to smooth away the tears. “I lo—” He swallowed. “I loved you too. So, so much.” A small, regretful smile lifted a corner of his mouth when her eyes widened. “I could never say the words, could I, my love? And now, perhaps, it is too late.” “But I don’t understand. What was the danger? You knew I loved you, that I would have given my life for you.”

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The light caress of his fingers over her cheek, down her throat, sent a longforgotten, achingly familiar shiver of delight over her skin. “Exactly. You know what I am, sweet. I never tried to hide it from you.” “No,” she cried. “And that didn’t matter to me. I told you that.” “I know. But you were so bright and fresh and my…” ray of sunshine. A half smile tilted the corner of his mouth as the unspoken words hung in the air between them, and he smoothed a hand down over her hair, “I couldn’t take that joy, that love of life away from you. If I’d stayed, I would have.” “You wouldn’t.” “Christina, you took my breath away. You still do. And with it, my control. I swore never to…never to take your blood. It was a fool’s promise. Each night became harder and harder to resist the pull, knowing how sweet, how indescribable the taste of you would be. That last night… Do you remember?” “Perfectly. Every moment.” He pulled her toward him, laying a soft kiss on her forehead. “So you think. But not quite.” He pulled back to meet her eyes again, the line of his jaw hardening, his grip tightening briefly. “What do you mean?” Her brow creased in confusion. He swallowed visibly, followed by a ragged, indrawn breath. “When you…when you came, the-the scent, the sound of your blood…I-I couldn’t help myself. I did what I swore I would never do to you. While you came, while I came I bit you. And the taste…” His eyes flared as the memory flashed through his mind. “My god, I couldn’t stop. It was like the gates of heaven opening up to a dying man.” His eyes fluttered shut as he remembered. “It set off some sort of explosion in my head, in my cock. The two were somehow linked—the most indescribable ecstasy. For as long as my orgasm lasted, I couldn’t let go. It went on and on…” His eyes opened, full of pain. “By the time I’d finished, you’d passed out in my arms, your body limp… I thought, well I thought I’d gone too far, taken too much. God, Christina—” A look of pure torture filled his eyes. “I thought I’d nearly killed you. So I…replenished what I’d taken. I forced you to take my blood.” So much pent-up anguish poured out in those words, so much remorse, that she wrapped her arms around him, nestled against him to try to comfort him. “I stayed only until I knew you would be all right. But I knew I couldn’t trust myself to be with you anymore. Just before dawn, I left.” “No. You can’t have. I’d remember.” She raised her face. “Wouldn’t I?” A sad look crossed his face. “I wiped your memories, sweet. I couldn’t stand that you would know just how much of a beast I really am.” “Oh, René, I never thought that of you. Would never…” She dropped her head to his shoulder, feeling every bit of the pain he must have gone through. “But what brought you back? Why now?”

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He stroked the back of her head where it lay against his chest. Fingers gently caressing her scalp. “When I took your blood, and then gave you back what I’d taken…well, because of that we’re bonded in a way. It’s the first stage of the transformation.” She lifted her head to look at him. “You mean I’m—” “No, not fully. It takes three such instances before a human fully converts. But through that link, I’ve been able to sense all along how you are—happy, sad…hurt. It was also a way for me to ensure no other vampire would touch you. I couldn’t risk another coming along and finishing what I’d started.” “So you knew what I went through when you went away?” His body tightened, arms wrapping tighter around her. “Yes. And it nearly killed me knowing I was to blame.” “So you only came back because you sensed I was in danger…” “Not completely.” In a moment of clarity, a window opened in her mind, freeing a shadowy memory. Her head snapped up and she looked at René. “It was you. At my place when that slimy little thug attacked me and tried to steal my camera bag. You were there.” “Not exactly. I could feel your pain, your fear. I was close, but not close enough to reach you in time. So I acted through you. To protect you.” “Through me? Like in my body?” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Not quite, but the concept is the same.” “God! This is too much.” She started to shiver in his arms. In a fluid, graceful movement, he stood and scooped her up. “What are you doing, René?” she asked as he carried her to the bed and laid her down. “You need to warm up, sweet. You’re cold.” He removed his coat from around her shoulders then loosened the tight grip she had on the tattered remnants of her blouse. “Trust me, Christina. I would never deliberately hurt you.” “I know that, René.” She looked up at him, her eyes trapping his. “I always knew that.” She released her grip on the blouse, letting her hands drop to her sides. Quickly, he undressed her, motioning with his head for her to lie down before he pulled the fluffy quilt up over her. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Sleep for now. There will be time for more questions later.” “But wait—” “Later, Sunshine. I promise.” Her eyelids became surprisingly leaden and, unable to fight the tiredness that descended on her like a heavy blanket, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the cocoon of warmth and safety that surrounded her.

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René waited until he was sure she slept then moved quickly upstairs to an equally elaborate living room. He shrugged his leather coat back on. She would be safe for the short period it would take him to feed. It had drained almost all his resources of energy to transport her to his house, leaving him shaky and incredibly hungry, and he needed to replenish himself. He couldn’t risk his hunger getting out of control later. Not with Christina. Not again. Making his way down a short hallway to his den, he pressed a button under his desk and waited while a hidden door opened and revealed an unlit passageway. The dark, musty passage would bring him to the surface blocks away. At least it was some assurance that her location would not be discovered.

***** Two hours. Two fucking hours. Where the hell was she? Watching Crissy disappear with the vamp had nearly killed him. A strange sense of panic, of things spinning out of his control had rushed through him. The guy was dangerous—he could smell it, sense it. He didn’t give a shit what Marcus thought. The man was trouble. He would have followed her. Every instinct had screamed at him to do so, but there was no goddamn scent to follow. Nothing. Jesus, what if she decided to stay with him? No! Fuck! Dammit, she was his. His shoulder throbbed relentlessly. His body itched—had been for the last hour. And the wolf inside him felt like howling—in rage, anger…despair. Fuck. Just when they were starting to sort things out, get closer. He strode restlessly in front of the driveway. Nothing was moving. The night was still, silent. Reluctant to go inside, he paced the front porch as he prayed for Chad to answer his cell phone this time. “Pick up, dammit, you mangy cat!” Finally, the sound of Chad’s voice interrupted the annoying ringing in his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” “About fucking time!” “Geez, what’s got up your ass? And before you ask, yes, I’m working. Marcus and I are talking to his boy who’s been following the vamp.” “So stop wasting your time and get over here, both of you.” “Why—” “Crissy’s gone. René’s taken her.” He snapped his phone shut and peered into the night once more, hoping to see her, even though it had been hours.

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It was barely five minutes later that Chad and Marcus drove up in Marcus’ Porsche. Chad had the door open and was climbing out of the low-slung car before the engine died. “What the hell happened?”

***** The sky was just starting the subtle lightening shift away from night to morning when René returned. Making his way quickly down the tunnel, he breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the bedroom to find his command to Crissy had held and she was still sleeping soundly. Weary beyond belief, he stripped off his clothes and climbed in beside her. As much as he wanted to, he dared not disturb her by pulling her closer. To his surprise, she turned to him and snuggled in without waking, nestling her head under his chin in the way she always had before. Pain ripped through his heart as he wrapped his arms around her. If only he could have stayed away. He’d lost count of the times he’d wanted to return to her, the need to hold her, inhale the sweet freshness of her one more time nearly driving him insane. And now, here she was, in his arms once again, and the pain that came with the suspicion that he’d left his return too late was as bad as realizing he’d nearly converted her all those years ago.

***** Pulled from a long dreamless sleep, his body refreshed and rejuvenated, René snapped awake at the feel of a warm body moving restlessly alongside him. Crissy’s leg was hooked over his, the heat from her body warming him, the subtle, sensuous slide of her silken flesh over his testing his control to its limits. His cock was rigid, throbbing. How long had it been since he’d woken up with an erection so hard it almost made his eyes water? He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to push closer, to rub the smooth head of his cock over the silky softness of her abdomen. He closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply, focusing on the scent of Crissy and not the other scent that mixed with hers. The wolf-man. Unreasonable as it might have been, and inasmuch as he could still see and understand the concern and despair in the other man’s eyes, the significance of the man’s scent lingering so strongly on Crissy meant only one thing. An irrational overwhelming possessiveness had overcome him, to steal her away, to finally make her his. Brushing the wayward strands of hair from where they had drifted across her eyelids, he looked down into the sweet face—cute, upturned nose, lush lips—he knew

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so well, loved so much. For a few stolen moments more, he relished the feel of her again. “René?” Her voice was husky from sleep, and sexy as hell. God, he’d missed this, waking up with her wrapped around him. “Yes, Sunshine. It’s me.” “I thought I must have dreamed it.” She lifted her head and moved to prop herself on an elbow, the sheet falling away. She dropped back down, grabbing the quilt, pulling it up to her chin. “I forgot. I’m naked.” Her leg tentatively rubbed up his again before pulling back quickly. “You’re naked.” “Astute observation, sweet.” A soft chuckle left his throat at the small glare she threw him. “You know I always sleep this way. But don’t worry, nothing happened. However,” he looked around the room, his arm following his arm in a slow arc, “there is only one bed, and as you know, I need my sleep.” He winked. “Besides,” he said, and rolled his eyes, “it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” “Thank you very much,” she chuckled. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” She released her grip on the quilt and rolled over him, tickling him under the ribs so that he laughed. “Still attending charm lessons, I see. You should save your money—they’re not working.” “Cheeky wench,” he teased and rolled her back, straddling her hips and holding down her hands as they both laughed. Seeing her smiling under him was too much temptation to resist. Inch by inch he lowered his head, his eyes holding hers captive as his lips moved closer, noting the change from laughter to something else… Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips touched hers, soft at first, but as her mouth opened under his, he sank further into her and his tongue slipped inside, stroking hers, rubbing along it, until she responded. At that velvety touch, his cock surged once more to rock-hardness, and he was unable to stop his hips from setting up a slow rub over her clit. Her moan was swallowed up as he deepened the kiss. Moving over her mouth with a pent-up need as if he could somehow remove the last ten years of hunger for her with one kiss. He’d forgotten just how exquisite she felt, tasted, smelled. All his senses came alive and he groaned as he rubbed his cock with greater urgency against her mound. Only the feel of her hands pushing at his chest stopped him from going further, and he released her mouth, leaving them both gasping for breath. “Stop, René. No, I-I can’t.” “You don’t want me?” “No. Yes…no. Oh, God. Please, René, please get off me. I can’t think properly with you so close.”

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Reluctantly, he lifted and transferred his weight until he was lying alongside her, his head propped on his hand, his hand resting on her rib cage, their bodies still touching but at a much safer distance. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t mean to do that. Truly. It was just…so much like before.” She cupped his face in her hand, running her thumb over his bottom lip, so that he nipped it and held it for a moment before releasing it. Her eyes darkened, the hurt showing in them. “I can’t, René.” “It’s because of the wolf. He’s marked you.” “Yes, he has. And his name is Randy.” He ran a finger down her nose, tracing the line of her full lips, measuring carefully his next words. “I can remove the wolf’s mark, sweet. If you would like. Just say the word.” Please, god, say the word… “You can? How?” He traced his fingertips over the small mark on her shoulder, tensing as an involuntary shudder ran over her body as he did so. “By replacing it with my own.” “But, with what you told me last night, wouldn’t that be a bit dangerous?” He shook his head. “It would only be dangerous if you decided to bite me back.” His body clenched at the bittersweet thought of her teeth—ultimately her fangs— sinking into his neck. Crissy had gone quiet, pensive. “Talk to me, Sunshine.” “What exactly are you saying, René? Please, after the past week, I’m so confused. Spell it out for me. You can remove the mating mark? Then what?” He lay back, looking at the ceiling. “To remove the mating mark, completely erase it, is only possible if I replace it with my own.” He turned to face her again. “But then, my sweet, you would be mated to me.” “Oh.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Look, I have to know, Christina. What’s between you and this Randy? You wear his mark, but if you are even considering my offer, then I have serious reservations as to whether he is the man for you. Does he love you?” “Well, he’s never said so.” Her eyes held a hint of sadness as she looked over at him. “But we both know that that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” He admitted to himself that she was correct in that, at least. His own foolishness on that score had tormented him for years. Why did men guard those words so strongly— it was stupid, hurtful. And what did it protect them from? From admitting that they

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could be vulnerable? Holding the words back didn’t protect their hearts at all. A painful lesson he had learned all too well. “But?” Her silence stretched out. “Do you love him, sweet? More than you love—loved me?” He had to ask, had to know. She turned on her side to face him, her eyes swimming with emotion. “It’s different, René. What I feel for Randy is so new, but yes, I do love him. And-and…” She stopped and swallowed as tears ran down her face, her eyes full of pain. “I do love you, René. In a part of my heart, I know I always will. But you were right. I don’t think I could live your life, never seeing the sun, only living in the night. Oh, God, I’m sorry, René. I just can’t live like this…like you.” Harsh sobs racked her body, and he cuddled her to him, wrapping her tight in his arms. He stroked her hair, feeling his heart crash and burn for the second time. Never again. Never would he subject himself to this sort of pain. He nuzzled the top of her hair, his next words wrenched from a place deep inside, a place where he would always love her. “Then I did the right thing all those years ago, didn’t I, Sunshine. And for that I’m glad.” He held her tighter and rocked her gently. “Sshhh. Come on now. No more tears.”

***** Randy stopped his incessant pacing when the front door opened and Marcus strode in. “Any word?” Marcus looked downcast. “No. Nothing yet. But I have all my people out tonight. If he surfaces to feed, one of them will see him.” Randy ran his hands through his hair, clenching his fingers in the strands, the feeling of uselessness threatening to overwhelm him once more. “Where the fucking hell are they?” he bellowed. Marcus cast a quick, concerned look at Chad and Ziggy. “They’ll turn up, Randy. You just have to have faith in your woman. And René. He wouldn’t hurt her. That I believe.” “Well, I wish I had your insight, man, but this is my woman who’s missing. And he’s still in love with her. Dammit all to hell!” All three men watched as Randy headed down the hall, mumbling under his breath, then heard the crashing slam of the back door. “He’s a bit strung out, isn’t he,” observed Marcus, a frown deepening on his forehead. Chad stood up. “Hell, you ain’t seen the half of it. He’s been climbing the damn walls. The longer it goes on, the worse he gets.” “And it will only get worse until she’s found.”

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All three looked up at the new voice. Rod Trudeau walked in. Once greetings were dispensed with, Rod sank into the thick cushion of the armchair. “How much worse?” asked Ziggy. “If he’s anything like me, he will be become a danger to everyone around him if this isn’t resolved within the next few hours.” Ziggy looked at him in disbelief. “Not you and Mom? When was this?” “Before I married her. Your grandfather wasn’t happy at all with the choices she and Izzy had made as future husbands. He waited until George and I weren’t at home one day and took them both. Took us the best part of a week to find them. He had no way of knowing that I’d already mated your mother. By the time we located them I do believe I was slightly unhinged. Your father was worse, Chad. After two days, George changed into his cat form and couldn’t change back. Didn’t until Izzy was back with him. Prowled around the house and her for a whole day before he could make the change.” “Considering what the two of them are like—still—somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” smirked Chad. Ziggy frowned and shook his head. “But how did you know what’s going on, Dad?” “Your mother. She had a feeling something was wrong…you know what she’s like. And she called Randy. She practically pushed me out the door to come check when she got off the phone. I take it he’s mated her?” he asked them. “He hasn’t said as much, but yeah,” confirmed Chad. “This mating shit is enough to turn a guy off the whole idea. Damn, if it’s this much trouble…” The corner of Rod’s mouth kicked up in a half smile. “Believe me, Chad, the benefits far outweigh the odd disadvantage.” He looked at Ziggy. “Surprised to see you here, though. I thought you were chained to that office chair.” “Very funny, Dad. I do have a life apart from the business.” “Hmmm, well you could have fooled me. I don’t suppose you’re planning on giving your mother some grandbabies to spoil rotten anytime soon?” “How about never?” Ziggy said with a frown. “Ah, this is all very enlightening, but getting back to the point, gentlemen,” said Marcus, “just how much worse will it get?” “Well,” said Rod, “considering the method of her abduction, and the uncertainty of her return, I’d be expecting him to get a bit feral in the next few hours. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. If it does, it will take a few of us to hold him down in the state he’ll be in by then.” The silence was broken by the muffled ring of a cell phone. Marcus reached inside his pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open in one quick movement. “Marcus. News?… Good. Address?… Are they there now?… What do you mean, you’re not sure?… Right. Fine. Call me back in ten minutes if they don’t show.” 109

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The others looked on intently and waited for him to speak. “We have an address. My men saw René enter a building. They’re just checking it out now. Does someone want to go and break the news to Randy?” For the tenth time in as many minutes, Randy stared at Marcus, willing the phone to ring. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t open his mouth to speak the words, because if he did, he’d start fucking howling. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth so hard to stop himself from doing just that. Unable to stand the waiting, he strode to the front door. He opened it just as a small female hand was reaching for the doorknob. He stared down at Crissy, unable to believe his eyes. She reached up a soft hand to smooth the deep creases from his brow. “Hello, mate.”

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Chapter Eleven His heart pounded a rapid tattoo against his rib cage, adrenaline flooding his body at the sight of her, unharmed, unmarked, a soft smile on her lips. “Crissy?” He reached for her, tucking her against his chest in a steel grip, relief from the fear that he’d never see her again pouring over him. And holding her now forced him to acknowledge the thought he’d been unable to contemplate. That she wouldn’t come back, either intentionally or otherwise. That fear was what had made him so crazy. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent deep into his lungs then tipping her face up to nudge his lips against hers, licking them, the touch meant to reassure them both. “You okay, baby?” There was so much he’d planned on telling her when…if he saw her again, and now that he held her, anything more than basic words failed him. He felt the answering nod against his chest. “You came back to me.” His voice caught on the last two words, an emotional dam breaking inside as he spoke the words, his relief almost tangible, choking, and he realized the fine edge of sanity he’d been walking thinking he might never see, hold her again. She lifted her head and pushed back from him until she could see his face. He could barely see the brief smile that quirked up one side of her mouth. “Of course I came back. You’re my mate.” What she said—twice, he realized—finally hit him. Pride and a savage possessiveness surged through him. Mate. She’d called him her mate! His exhilaration lasted only a moment when he looked up and saw the same man who’d taken her, standing on the other side of the road, watching them, his expression hidden in the darkness. But just the sight of him drove his need to reinforce his claim on Crissy, the need becoming overwhelmingly urgent, primal. She gasped with surprise when his hands cupped her face and he slanted his mouth over hers, his lips almost bruising in their intensity, his tongue pushing at her lips until her mouth opened under his, stating his claim in an almost animal fashion. He didn’t tell her the hell he’d gone through. His breath locked in his throat. An unfamiliar need filled him, drove him, something primeval, unsatisfied, a part of him that craved submission, the degree of submission he’d never asked from her, the type that was instinctive for his kind. “Inside,” he managed to croak out. He didn’t release her. Couldn’t if his life depended on it. 111

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As they entered the house, his father stood and eyed them both closely. Fortunately his dad didn’t make a move to touch Crissy. The way Randy was feeling right then he would have ripped his hand off. “Crissy, I’m Rod Trudeau—lovely to finally meet you. Maybe we can welcome you to the family properly when this is all over?” “Yes, I’d like that.” Rod glanced around and raised an eyebrow at the others pointedly. “Okay, gentlemen, what say we give Randy and Crissy some time alone?” “But I want to know what happened,” said Chad. “Later, Chad,” said Rod with a grin. “I think my son has something more important to take care of. You can ask all the questions you need to tomorrow.” Standing rigid behind Crissy, his body wrapped around her, touching her in as many places as was possible standing up, Randy waited until the door banged shut behind them before he relaxed slightly and turned her around. “Come here.” He ignored the look of surprise on her face before he kissed her. It was rough, hungry, her muffled cries cutting into his heart, but he couldn’t stop. As if something inside he could no longer control was pushing him, driving him. She struggled against his hold and shoved hard against his chest, just enough to break the kiss, and stood panting, gasping for air. “Randy, what’s wrong? You’re not…you look different.” She took a step backward and he made to grab her, but then stood, clenching and unclenching his fists as he fought to regain some control. He gritted his teeth, unable to stop the small growl from escaping. The change was starting, and he closed his eyes tight, inhaling deeply while he struggled to push the animal inside him back down. “Don’t. Move.” He was on the knife-edge. She was nervous and confused—he could see it in her eyes, smell the uncertainty in the air around them. But if she ran from him now, he’d chase her down until he forced her to submit. And she might never forgive him. But he had to know. Had to make sure she was still his—dammit. He opened his eyes and with hands that shook, grasped her arms, holding her at arm’s length. “Cris, stop. Please. Don’t. Move.” Even talking was hard as his incisors lengthened, making it hard to enunciate. He let go of her and ripped at his T-shirt, tossing the torn scraps on the floor. His cock was so hard it was a painful, unending throb. The need to get inside her beat at his control, but he tried to restrain the animalistic urge to dominate that flooded through him. “I…need…” His eyes pleaded with her. “You,” he whispered. “Bad.” He prayed she understood. The blue of her eyes darkened, and without taking them off his, she nodded. Tugging at the makeshift knot that was holding her blouse together, she shrugged her shoulders and let it float to the floor. He clenched his fists as her full breasts wobbled 112

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with the movement and then settled, the nipples hardening into long, darkened peaks as he watched. With a single tug, and a tremulous smile, her skirt hit the floor and she stepped out of it. His eyes ran from her ankles, up her legs, over the softly swelling mound of her abdomen, the full breasts with hardened, rosy nipples, and he caught his breath. Christ, she was beautiful. And dammit, she was his! “What do you need?” she asked as she stepped closer, her expression soft, her eyes never leaving his. Her hand reached for his fly, maneuvering the zipper down over the bulge of his swollen erection. Releasing his cock from its strangling fabric prison, she stroked its length, closing her fingers around the head and rubbing over the sensitive flange. “Tell me.” She knelt in front of him, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips, the sight causing his dick to jerk in response before she swiped a slow lick over the head, lapping up the small pearl of moisture that eased through the slit. “This?” Her mouth opened and closed over the head of his cock, the warmth traveling down the shaft, covering the flesh as her hand withdrew. He stroked trembling fingers over her hair before he cradled her head. “Suck. Me,” he ground out, the sound harsher than he intended. She was going to kill him. He wanted to thrust down her throat, fuck into that glorious warmth until he exploded, but he stood rigidly, leg muscles locked in place, buttocks clenched tight as she took him further inside the heated cavern. And stopped. Why? he wanted to ask. Then her eyes met his, her mouth—the lips stretched and reddened—full of his dick, and as if she knew what he was thinking, understood his need, she nodded, her eyes full of trust. Goddamn! Trying to be as gentle as he could, he cupped her head with shaking hands while he fucked her mouth, the tight ring of her lips pulling the skin back as her tongue laved the pulsing vein underneath. With every pass of his shaft, a little of the fear that had gripped him bled away. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and he caressed it away with the pad of his thumb. Watching voraciously as each inch of his cock was revealed, wet and glistening from her mouth, he flinched, inhaling sharply as shards of pleasure shot through him when her teeth scraped over the sensitive head. Dammit, but he needed more than the suck and pull of her hot lips, the sensuous wrap of her tongue around him. “Stop.” She looked surprised, but did as he said. “D-down,” he tried to say, struggling to get his mouth around the word.

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With a nod, she turned away from him, resting on her hands and knees in front of him. The rounded swell of her ass called to him, the scent of her arousal making him impatient. He kicked off his shoes, making short work of his jeans and boxers, tossing them away. Naked, he dropped to his knees behind her, filling his eyes with the expanse of lightly tanned flesh, the sensuous flare of her hips and buttocks, and wanted to roar out his ownership. Licking a long line from the crevice at the top of her rump, up over every small bump of her spine to her neck, he finished with a warning nip on her shoulder as she tried to twist around to look at him. Leaning back again, palms spread over her back, he pressed her forward, spreading the cheeks of her ass until the swollen, wet lips of her pussy were visible. An insatiable hunger beat at his brain as the waft of her juices hit him. His cock stuck out from his body, ramrod-straight, as he watched the swollen lips part before him, giving him a glimpse of the entry to paradise. Impatient, the beast inside driving him, he tucked the head of his cock inside the parted folds and surged inside her in one long thrust. Buried as deep as he could go, his balls slapping against her clit, he let out a long, shuddering breath and groaned at the heat that swallowed up his shaft. Every inch of her channel was wet, the juices coating his cock allowing him to glide freely. Panting as he fought to retain some small semblance of control, he gripped the curves of her hips and started a slow, steady thrust and withdraw, pushing to the hilt each time, his mind rejoicing as he elicited a small grunt of pleasure from her with each thrust. Smells and sensations filled his senses—the musky scent of her arousal drifting up to him, the erotic shiver of her body under his, the silky feel of her skin… Control was fading fast. When the hair on his arms and chest thickened, he increased his pace, hammering inside her. Hips still bucking, the tightening sac below his cock slapping against her clit, he moved over her back, placing his hands over hers where they rested on the floor. His tongue flicked out to lick the shell of her ear and he stilled for a moment as a shiver passed over her body and a breathy moan escaped her. “Randy?” “Hmmm?” “I love you. It’s the reason I came back.” The words seeped into his tortured brain, making the muscles around his heart clench. “Oh babe…babe…” Her breathing accelerated. The sound inflamed him. Made him wild. Sniffing and licking his way down the column of her neck to her shoulder, he laved and sucked on the spot he’d bitten before. A louder groan escaped her and the muscles of her cunt started to flutter and pulse around him. “Yes! Yes!” She was panting continuously now like a bitch in heat—his beautiful little bitch—soft breathy pleas for more leaving her lips. She was close—even if he 114

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couldn’t feel the silky flood of wetness around his cock and the unmistakable tightening of her pussy, he could smell it. And fuck, he wanted her to come, wanted to feel those ripples of indescribable pleasure along the length of his cock. “Please, now!” she pleaded. One more swipe of his tongue and he bit the skin and held it. Pure, male satisfaction surged through him when she shuddered and whimpered erotically under him, the walls of her cunt clenching on him in a steady pulsing rhythm as a faintly metallic taste washed over his taste buds, making him growl possessively around his clenched canines. All over his body—arms, legs, back—muscles twitched and nerves screamed, heat rushing through him, building, peaking… With a muffled groan against her flesh, he tightened and thrust once more, lodging his cock against the head of her cervix. She cried out, a throaty, guttural release as she continued to spasm around him, the muscles clenching and releasing along his length. All the energy in his body seemed to surge through the head of his cock as he exploded inside her, each pulse delivering his seed deep into her womb. Releasing his hold on her neck, he licked his lips as he closed his eyes, savoring every exquisite jerk of his release and her answering climaxes for long minutes afterward. Crissy’s arms collapsed, but he wrapped an arm around her waist as he lowered them both to the floor, keeping her flush against him, unable, unwilling to break the physical connection between them just yet. He rubbed the side of her head with his, a touch of reassurance to his mate, and was relieved when the affectionate caress was returned. “Must sleep,” she murmured to him, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on her face. “Worn me out.” In spite of the overriding satisfaction and warmth that settled inside his chest, a cold darkness flittered over him, a promise of retribution that went soul deep. Pulling his hips back, allowing his cock to slip free, he gathered her limp body in his arms and stood, closing his eyes for a moment as he relished the feel and weight of her, before heading for the stairs and their bed. Determined that from now on, nothing and no one would take her from him. He’d kill the next bastard who tried.

***** Marcus noticed René leaning against the lamppost on the other side of the road. Excusing himself from his friends, he walked over to join him. “René,” he said, holding out his hand in greeting. “It’s been a while, my friend.” René grasped his hand in a firm shake and nodded. “She’ll be all right?” Marcus looked back at the house and a small grin creased his face. “Yes, her mate will take care of her. But some explanations will be necessary, you realize this, yes?”

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“It’s expected. I have information you need. And as much faith as you have in Crissy’s mate, her protection will require more.” Marcus looked at him thoughtfully. “Sounds like you can answer a few questions we’ve had since this thing began. We’ll be interested to hear what you have to say.” Marcus grabbed René’s arm and stopped him as René started to cross the road. “I know how hard this was for you to do, René.” René searched his gaze, light blue eyes penetrating vivid blue ones, surprise registering as he saw the knowledge that Marcus was freely offering him. He nodded. “Yes, I believe you do, Marcus. Come, introduce me to your friends. Hopefully they will listen to what I have to say before they try to tear me limb from limb.” Marcus chuckled and shook his head in response, before leading the way. “Gentlemen, this is René Lamathe, an old friend of mine—and Crissy’s.” He nodded at the men around the circle as he introduced them. “Rod Trudeau, Randy’s father, Randy’s brother Ziggy, and their cousin, Chad.” “So,” said Chad, eyes narrowing as he considered the other man, “what’s the deal? Seems like you know something that we don’t.” “I do,” said René. “A vamp looking to exact revenge on me is hunting for Crissy. And if he finds her before we find him, I’m quite sure he intends to make her suffer— greatly.” “Reason being?” enquired Ziggy. “This started a few years ago after I left here. Blane Driscoll is his name. The type of vamp who gives the rest of us a bad name, unfortunately. Messy, a real killer. Painful, ugly deaths. He’s been on my list for a while now. Anyway, his wife became a little warped—spent her nights building a private group of zombie teenagers that she fed from but didn’t turn, and wouldn’t let die. Her own personal blood bank. So I caught her out one night hunting up some new recruits and killed her. He’s never forgiven me and has looked for a means to get back at me ever since. Since I went to great measures to sever and remove all connection with Christina when I left, I’m at a loss as to how he managed to uncover our previous relationship.” “Interesting.” Marcus stroked his jawline. “We certainly do have a problem then. Because it would appear that your friend isn’t the only one who’d like to do away with Crissy. A were is on her trail as well. And I doubt very much the two are linked.”

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Chapter Twelve Crissy rushed to the phone, trying to answer it before it woke Randy. Twinges in a variety of muscles slowed her progress. A hint of a smile creased her face as she thought about Randy taking her last night. Every time he’d taken her. But it was that first time she’d never forget. So dominating, but the look in his eyes so vulnerable. Needing her so badly. Sure, the wolf inside may have been riding his body, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw only the man. The man who so obviously loved her, even if he hadn’t said as much. But the eyes couldn’t lie. Her heart clenched again just thinking about it. “Hello, Crissy Carter,” she said, glancing up to see her mate coming down the stairs pulling a T-shirt over his head. She sighed as the muscles of his chest rippled with the movement. It was such a terrible shame to cover up that bod. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” She shook her head in bemusement. So obsessed with the sight of a semi-naked Randy, she’d completely missed the caller speaking. “It’s Rob MacGregor. Forensic Imaging. Is Randy there?” “Oh, sure. Just a sec, Rob.” She handed the phone to Randy and he took it, but didn’t speak straightaway, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her before he winked and moved his arm around her shoulder, holding her close while he spoke to Rob. It was pathetic, she thought, as she wrapped her arms around his waist, inhaling the scent of him as she leaned against his chest. Just that small touch was enough to leave a silly grin on her face and make her feel warm all over. With a little laugh to herself, she shook her head and pushed away from him, heading to the coffeepot, her original destination before the phone rang, since that was the only thing he seemed to trust her to make. He hung up the phone, and as she unhooked a couple of mugs, he came up behind her, cuddling her, and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Remember that memory disc you found, honey? The one you took out of your new camera before it was stolen?” “Yep. What about it?” “Marcus gave me Rob’s name. He does image enhancement. I took the disc to him the day you and Georgie went shopping, to see what he could find.” She turned in his arms, excited. “And he found something?” “Looks like. I’d really like to head over there now. What about if we get some breakfast after we’ve seen him?” “Okay, just let me grab my bag.” 117

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***** Watching Randy talk on his cell phone—calling in the troops, as he put it—Crissy pushed her hardly touched burger away. Her need for food had taken a dive that morning as they went over the digitally enhanced photos with Rob. She took another sip of her coffee and mulled over what they’d discovered. Technology was amazing. The blown-up versions had certainly left nothing to the imagination—the details were graphic, to say the least. Two men, or rather werewolves…or half-and-half from the look of it. Partway through the change, as Randy had informed her. Not that she couldn’t see that. God, that wasn’t all she could see. She shuddered as the image of Gangone and his “friend” flashed through her mind again. She was still having trouble believing it, but then, with what had happened to her in the past week, she really shouldn’t be. Paul Gangone. The charismatic and short-odds candidate for Governor at the upcoming elections. A werewolf. Good grief. She was starting to feel as if they were everywhere. Certainly, she could understand him not wanting the fact to become public knowledge, and she wouldn’t have said a thing if he’d only asked nicely. But then again, that still didn’t excuse the fact that he was doing a furry version of the doggie mambo in the woods with a person who was definitely not his wife. Not even his girlfriend, for that matter. Apparently the wannabe governor had a fondness for sexual partners of his own type—male as well as werewolf. Now that was something that would really stir up the voters. How the heck she’d managed to get him in the periphery of the frame and not even notice still had her beat. Although, come to think of it, she mulled, she could have been distracted… From the look of those shots, she could tell it was the night she’d been experimenting using the innards of an old floppy disc as a filter on her Sony with the night-shot mode. And it had worked brilliantly. Too damn brilliantly. Good old Paul and his little friend had come out clear as a bell with a titch of Rob’s tweaking. Unfortunately, while she hadn’t been aware of Paul about to be snapped in flagrante delicto à la canine, he’d seen her very well, judging from the full-frontal scowl on his still very recognizable face in one of the shots. She grimaced. She really needed to stop looking at life through a lens and start noticing a bit more of what was going on around her… How on earth could she miss two guys going at it within the range of her lens? “Hey, beautiful.” A pair of warm lips nibbled on her neck, the heat of his breath over the sensitive flesh sending goose bumps over her skin. “You ready to go?” Randy moved to stand beside her, coat slung over his shoulder, a sexy smile on his face. “So, is the National Guard going to be camping out on the front lawn?” He laughed. “No, not quite. Come on, I’ll fill you in while we head back to your place.” They strolled hand in hand to his truck. She smiled as she realized that since the previous night he’d hardly stopped touching her. He opened her door, waited until she 118

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was settled, before planting a quick kiss on her lips and walking around the front of the truck to get in. God, he was a good-looking man. The blond-streaked hair and the tan, the muscles… Her pussy was already wet for him and she could feel another sigh coming on. He swung up into the driver’s seat and kicked the engine over. She waited patiently for him to start talking, but when she looked over, the happy face was gone, replaced by what she was starting to recognize as his serious face. “So?” He started the truck and moved off before taking his eyes from the road briefly to glance at her. He took her hand then, settling it on his thigh and covering it with his. “Chad’s looking into Gangone’s connections to the New York packs. Our nasty friend Louie, apparently, is in enough demand to pick and choose his ‘jobs’, plus he comes with a pretty high price tag. That’s because he usually delivers.” He squeezed her hand. “It just makes me sick to wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t come in when I did that night. I can still see you, tied to that chair—” “Don’t think about it, Randy. You did come in time. And you saved me.” “But what about the other night with Gangone’s other four thugs? Hell, if René hadn’t shown up, God only knows what might have happened. I don’t want to cut it that fine again. Just promise me, baby, ‘til this thing is over, you won’t go anywhere without either me or Chad, okay?” “I promise, honey.” She looked at him closely. “Anything else bothering you?” Hell yeah. But they’d decided not to tell her about the vamp on her trail. He figured she had enough to worry about with one guy wanting her dead. “He’s not going to give up, Crissy. He’s got too much at stake. We just don’t know which direction he’s coming from next.” “Can’t we just give him the memory card? That must be what he was aiming for that night the first guy attacked me.” “I think it’s gone beyond that.” “But you’re a werewolf too. Can’t you just go to him and explain? Tell him that we won’t say a word?” “We’re no different than you, Crissy. There are good ones and bad ones. Him being like— Him being a werewolf is only part of it. Do you know who his wife is?” “Sylvia de Marigny. I’ve seen her at a few events I’ve snapped. High society. Family’s rich as sin, right?” “Yeah, but I’d be surprised if theirs was a love match, especially in light of his nocturnal activities. We’re talking Louisiana blue blood. Somehow I doubt they’d be too thrilled to know one of their daughters is married to one of us. Oh, and let’s not forget he’s either gay or bi into the bargain. You want to guess where Gangone’s finance is coming from for his election?”

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“Oh.” “Uh-huh.” “This is a mess.” “You got that right, babe.”

***** That night, Crissy found it hard to sleep. Even with Randy beside her, she was restless. Climbing out of bed, she walked to the window, pulling the curtain aside to look outside. “Crissy? What’s up?” “I don’t know. I just keep thinking about everything.” She heard him pad over to her, felt the heat from his body before he even reached her. “I just want this to be ov—” “Shit! Get dressed, babe. Quick as you can.” She spun around to see Randy hopping into his jeans. “Why? What?” “Don’t ask questions, just do it!” The urgency in his tone got her moving. She was reaching for her shoes when he grasped her arm. “Grab them and come on.” She picked them up and flew down the stairs behind him. Then she smelt it. Smoke. “Quick, out the front door.” She started to turn for the kitchen, but he pushed her in the other direction. “But my bag—” “I’ll grab it. Go, go!” He raced in the direction of the kitchen as she headed toward the door. The smoke was getting thicker. By the time she reached the door and wrenched it open, her eyes were watering. She didn’t stop until she reached the street, then turned around, unable to believe her eyes. She ducked reflexively as a muffled explosion from the rear of the house reached her ears, followed by the sound of breaking glass. A golden glow lit the night, indication the flames were taking hold of the rear of her house. Smoke started to pour out the lower floor windows. “Randy?” She tried to see into the house, looking for any sign of him, but the smoke, acrid and thick, made it impossible. Tears ran down her face and she paced in frustration. Where the hell was he? Out of nowhere, a hand holding a cotton pad was clamped over her mouth.

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She was so surprised, that some small gem of self-defense knowledge from Georgie’s lessons must have penetrated, and she stomped down hard—real hard—on the instep of the owner of the foot, while driving an elbow into his ribs. A violent curse was all she heard as she bent over and gasped in a breath of night air, trying to clear the fuzziness from her head, before the blaring scream of sirens tore through the night. She spun around to see who her attacker was just as two fire engines pulled up, spewing men running as soon as their feet hit the ground. There was no one there. A square of white caught her eye on the ground, and after a quick look around, she bent to pick it up. Meanwhile, hoses were unfurled, orders barked—the whole scene was under a semblance of chaotic control within minutes. She grabbed the man who was issuing orders, his steely eyes determined and sharp, who seemed to be in charge. “My boyfriend is still in there!” she screamed at him. He held her arm in a firm grip. “Okay, miss, we’ll try and send someone in to see if we can locate him. Where was he last you saw?” She told him the basic layout and where Randy was headed. He nodded and spoke to a couple of his men, then asked her some questions which she did her best to answer. “Just stay there, miss. We find him, we’ll let you know.” She paced anxiously, wondering where the hell Randy was, searching the men running around for any sign of him. She jumped when someone grabbed her elbow, prepared to attack once again. “Hey, hey, babe. Settle down. It’s just me.” Sighing with relief at the voice, Crissy turned around to see Randy, face streaked with black, clothes slightly singed, standing there with her handbag in his hand. “Randy! Oh, God, I thought…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on as the sour taste of fear bled out of her system. The fireman turned back to them and looked Randy over from top to toe. “You’re the boyfriend, I assume.” He kissed the top of Crissy’s head. “Yeah, I’m the boyfriend.” “Now it’s empty?” He looked at both of them, waiting for an answer. “Fatso!” cried Crissy, grabbing Randy’s arm. “I forgot about Fatso.” “Fatso?” “Her cat,” said Randy, rolling his eyes at the fireman. “He must have gotten out, Crissy. He wasn’t in the house. I looked. That’s partly what took me so long to get out here.” Crissy was stunned. Randy had gone looking for her cat? Just the thought of it nearly made her cry. “Any idea what we’re dealing with?” asked the fireman.

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“Chemicals,” offered Randy. “Judging from the strongest part of the blaze, I’m guessing the fire started in Crissy’s darkroom. She’s a photographer.” “Great. Thanks.” “Are you hurt?” asked Crissy, running her eyes over him. “I was going crazy out here…” “Hey, shhh.” He pulled her back into his arms. “I’m fine. I grabbed my phone to call the fire department then got caught when the fire tore up the hallway. Had to climb out through the kitchen window. It’s kinda nice, though, to know you were so worried about me.” “Worried? I was frantic, you dolt! Don’t you ever do that to me again.” She buried her head in his chest, concentrating on taking deep breaths to slow her racing heart. Later she’d tell him about the unknown assailant. Right now she was just relieved Randy was still alive. “Looks like I finally get to take you home with me, babe.” Crissy turned in his arms, looking at her house fully ablaze and surrendered to the tears. “My home. It’s all gone, Randy. Everything. First the attacks, now this.” “Shhh.” He pulled her in tight, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ll get through this, honey.” She pushed back from him. “But it’s all gone! My home. What am I going to do now?” “You’re coming home with me. Permanently, Crissy.” “But—” “Hey, either of you two own this cat?” A different fireman walked toward them holding a wet and shivering Fatso. “Fatso!” She rushed over to take him from the fireman. He looked just like he had the first night she found him—wet and pathetic. She looked over at Randy with pleading eyes. “You know what they say…love me, love my cat…” “No, babe, that’s dog—love me, love my dog.” A groan left his lips. She batted her eyelashes at him, causing him to snort. “Ah, hell.” He put his hands on his hips and grimaced. “Only if he stays outside, Crissy. I don’t want him shedding all over the place.”

***** After a hot shower to clean off the ash and remove the smell of smoke, he settled Crissy into his big four-poster. Exhausted, she’d fallen asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow. He wrapped his arm around the carved wooden post at the end of the bed and watched her sleep. Curled up in his bed, she just looked…right. With a satisfied grin, he turned and padded out of the room, the thick carpet muffling his footfalls. Damn, he finally got her in his bed, and he couldn’t even join her.

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But then, he had a little appointment that was, this once, infinitely more important than cuddling up to his mate. He reached the landing just as the front door opened to admit Chad and his father. “You good to go, Son?” “Sure, Dad. Chad? Arm the security as we go. Where’s Zig?” “Keeping an eye on the externals. Crissy asleep?” “Yeah. She’s exhausted, so she should hopefully stay that way while we’re gone. But if she wakes, don’t tell her who we’ve gone to see—she’ll only worry.” “You mean, you want me to lie?” “No, I mean I want you to be creative—tell her I’ve gone to answer questions at the fire department or something.” “Okay, you’re the boss.” “Let’s go, Dad.” “Now listen, Son,” said Rod Trudeau as they walked toward his big black Hummer, “I know you want to rip this bastard’s arms off and shove them down his throat…” “You got that right…” Rod slapped his son on the back as they walked down the path. “But just let me do the talking, okay?” Yeah, well, that was another little revelation he was having trouble absorbing. As soon as his dad had heard the name Gangone, his face had hardened and a cold smile had lit his eyes. How the hell did his father know Gangone? And, more importantly, what the hell did he have on him that it was big enough to lift a contract like the one he had out on Crissy? Whatever, where his mate’s life was concerned, he’d take all the help he could get. “No problem, Dad. As long as he plays ball. Otherwise I know an alligator that has his goddamn name on it.”

***** Randy looked around at the dark warehouse with growing suspicion. “You sure this is a good idea, Dad?” “Trust me, Randy. I have had a little bit of experience in these things…” Randy pulled his eyes back to his father and looked at him closely, a frown creasing his forehead. “Obviously. And I think Zig and I may need to have a little talk to you about that too.” A disarming grin kicked up the corner of Rod’s mouth, but they both swung around slowly when a side door creaked open. “More on this later, Pops,” whispered Randy out of the corner of his mouth. “You can count on it.”

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A man in his early fifties, dressed immaculately in suit and tie, quite at odds with the dirty, dusty environment he entered, walked toward them, followed by two bodyguards who definitely needed the custom-made section of the suit section. “Ah, Rod Trudeau. It’s been so many years…” Rod nodded at him, his face stern, his eyes dangerous. “Paul.” Paul Gangone looked around him at the warehouse and raised an eyebrow as he met Rod’s eyes. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think? I must admit, I’m curious. You’re the last person I expected to have call me. You mind telling me what this is all about?” “Call your dogs off Crissy Carter. Now. And that means canceling the contract you have out on her. The whole shebang. Unless you want me and my men to get involved…” Gangone’s eyes narrowed, but not before a brief flicker of fear crossed them. “My, my. Straight to the point as usual, Rod.” It was obvious he was trying to work out what the real deal was, but his father’s face gave away nothing. “But she’s a little young for you, isn’t she? Besides, whatever would Vi say… How is your delightful wife, by the way?” “Vi is just fine, Paul. And Sylvia?” Gangone scowled. “Sylvia is…Sylvia. As long as Sylvia gets what she wants, she’s happy.” He paused and tapped his chin. “But Crissy Carter… Now there’s a woman who looks like she’d know how to please a man. From what my boys tell me, she’s certainly a tasty morsel. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having a taste myself—” “You sonofabitch!” spat Randy, lunging for the other man before his father grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him. “Why the contract on her?” asked Rod, his voice, though quiet, no less dangerous. “I know you play some dirty political games, but this is a bit extreme even for you.” Gangone’s eyes turned flinty, his expression cautious, and when he spoke, his words were measured. “I wouldn’t call it a ‘contract’, Rod. That’s a bit…harsh, don’t you think?” “Cut the political double-talk, Paul. I’m not interested in your version of semantics. I asked you why.” “I think you know, Rod.” Gangone’s face hardened. “This is my whole life we’re talking about here, everything I’ve struggled for, about to be destroyed. I only wanted the photo, but it’s gone on too long. She must know what she has by now, and I can’t take the risk of it leaking out.” Like a large predator, Rod moved the few steps to Gangone and stopped, hands on his hips as he leaned over the smaller man. “Bad move, Paul. You see, this is my son Randy. Crissy is his mate. You mess with mine, you mess with me—you know that.” Gangone looked ready to speak, but Rod held up his hand. “Now, you see, Vi has a hankering for grandbabies and your little contract—or whatever you want to call it—on

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Crissy is going to shoot that down in flames, and she wouldn’t take too kindly to you being responsible for doing away with her only daughter-in-law. And you know how I hate to see my wife pissed off, Paul.” Rod’s voice had deepened, his tone cold and menacing. “So, here we are. As I understand it, Crissy took a photo that unintentionally got you in the shot.” Rod leaned closer until he was right in Gangone’s face, forcing the politician to take a step back. “Take my word that it will be destroyed—any and all copies.” Paul snorted. “You’re kidding, right? Do you take me for a fool?” “You calling me a liar, Paul?” Rod stared at him coolly, but the words were chilling, the glint in his eyes a warning of danger. “Look, we can play this nice like gentlemen, or I can play by your rules. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. Won’t be the first time.” “And I just take your word for it?” Gangone must have had a death wish, from the look that crossed Rod’s face. Randy noticed a rare flush of anger start to show on his father’s normally calm face. Rod thrust his hands in his pockets. “Personally I don’t care if you screw your little boyfriends from here to Alaska, Paul. That’s your business. But you come after my family, and you better be prepared for the consequences. Besides…” He paused and his voice lowered. “Consider this payment for that little bit of assistance the boys and I gave you years ago…” Gangone cast an anxious glance around the shadowy warehouse. “I suppose the rest of the team is around here somewhere?” Team? thought Randy. What fucking team? His father smiled at Gangone, the look lacking any warmth. “That would imply a lack of trust, Paul. How many goons did you bring?” “Enough.” Rod snorted and shook his head. “Against my men? You seriously believe that?” Gangone shuffled nervously as Rod waved his hand in the air, as if dismissing the potential threat they offered as not even worth considering. “So, what’s the answer going to be?” The smaller man appeared to think for a moment, considering his options, before looking back up at Rod. “Fine. But I hear even a whisper—” “You won’t. Do it now. Before you leave. Make the call so I can hear you say it.” “Trusting bastard, aren’t you?” Rod shrugged and smirked. “You know what they say about politicians…” They waited while Gangone made two calls, his words low, but not low enough that they couldn’t hear what he said. He snapped the cell phone shut when he was finished. “Done. I’d like to say it’s been nice—” “One more thing,” said Rod. “Crissy’s house. Were your goons responsible for that?” 125

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“Hey! Now that was an accident. One of the boys got a bit clumsy…” Gangone rolled his eyes. “What? You want me to rebuild it?” Rod smiled. “You know me so well. But better still, you just deposit the market value into my account and we’ll call it even. I’ll give it to Crissy and Randy as a wedding present—she’ll never even suspect.” Gangone turned to Randy and stared at him hard, before looking back at Rod. “Done. And then this is over.” “It will be if you keep your nose clean, Paul. I’ll be watching—you know that.” With a sharp nod at Randy and Rod, Gangone turned and left, taking his two anabolic steroids in suits with him. When they heard the door bang shut, Randy turned to his father. “Okay, you want to explain all that? How the hell do you know that little weasel?” A prickle ran down Randy’s back and he turned, not due to a noise—more a displacement of air than anything. Five large men dressed in skintight black carrying various forms of sinister-looking, and most likely highly illegal, hardware were suddenly standing there. His eyes widened before he glanced back at his father. “The ‘team’, I take it?” Rod just grinned. “Mom know?” Rod nodded once. “Damn! Who would have thought? What, Special Forces?” “SEALs.” Randy shook his head. “You sly dog. How come Zig and I were never told?” “You never asked,” Rod said with a laugh and turned to the shadows waiting like statues behind them. “Thanks, guys,” he said before the “team” disappeared in front of their eyes. “You still didn’t answer my question about Gangone.” “I know.” Rod turned and headed toward the side door. “You weren’t really expecting an answer, were you?” he threw over his shoulder.

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Chapter Thirteen “Man, I’m beat,” Randy said to Chad after his dad dropped him off a half hour later. “Crissy still sleeping?” “Like a baby.” Chad grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on. “You heading home now?” asked Randy. “Not directly.” Chad looked away uneasily. “What?” “I phoned Georgie earlier. Just wanted to check and see how she is, ya know? After the other day, and all…” Randy couldn’t resist a tease. “Interested, cuz?” “Eh, maybe.” He ducked his head, looking at the floor. “But that’s not it. She didn’t sound her usual sassy self.” “So?” “So I’m just concerned, I guess.” Chad glared at him as if daring Randy to make something of it. Randy bit his lip to stop the grin. “Concerned. You.” Chad glared at him. “Give me a break, man. I’m not a total hound dog like some people I know.” Randy laughed. “Hey, don’t dish it out if you can’t take it. So, anyway, you think she might still be a bit upset?” “Don’t know. She just sounds…off. Not a single smart-ass crack, and God knows I gave her plenty of opportunity.” “Maybe she’s just tired, Chad. She works about three jobs from what Crissy tells me.” “Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I’m outta here. I’ll catch ya tomorrow.” He followed Chad to the door and armed the security before he headed for the stairs. God, what a night!

***** The incessant ringing of a phone woke Randy with a jolt. He felt Crissy move beside him on the bed then the ringing stopped. He curled himself around Crissy’s curvy butt, skimming his hands possessively over her stomach and smiled as he slid back into sleep, only to be jerked out of it abruptly by Crissy shaking him. “What it is, babe?” he said, struggling to open his eyes.

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She pushed the phone at him, her eyes full of tears. “It’s Chad. Georgie’s gone.” He bolted into a sitting position and grabbed the phone. “Chad?” “You better get over here, man. It’s not good.” “But what happened? Didn’t you see her last night?” Randy tried to clear the sleep from his head. “No. She wasn’t here when I arrived. So I waited. Waited three fucking hours, but she didn’t come back. I figured maybe she went to work after all, so I headed over to the club she works at. But the manager said she hadn’t been in. Asked a few of the other girls did they have any idea where she might go, you know, like a coffee shop, or bar or something. Nothing. So I came back to her place to wait again. There’s a video, man. I’m telling you it wasn’t here before. He must have slipped in while I was out. But you gotta see this. The fucking bastard!” “Who? Who’s a fucking bastard?” “The vamp. He’s got her. Looks like he wants to do a swap. Georgie for Crissy. Fuck it!”

***** Crissy looked over at Chad as he pressed stop on the remote and turned to face the three of them. Randy and Ziggy wore closed expressions, but their eyes communicated their concern. How could they just sit there like that? This was Georgie, for heaven’s sake! Fear for her cousin bubbled up in her chest, threatening to choke her. Apart from that, she was furious. Unable to sit still, Crissy stood, hands on her hips, and glared at them. She’d gone beyond being scared, or asking “why”? Someone was destroying her life, trying to kill her, and she wanted answers. “So, does somebody want to enlighten me? I get the distinct impression I haven’t been hearing the whole story. What happened to Paul Gangone? What the hell does this sick vamp have to do with things?” She looked pointedly at them all, her gaze coming back to Randy. “Well?” Randy’s face was somber. “Seems like you’ve been one popular little lady of late, babe.” Randy stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her in the direction of the armchair. “Sit.” She fought him, trying to brush his hand off her. “I don’t want to sit. I want to find Georgie before that sicko hurts her. Who the hell is he? And why does he want me? I’ve never even seen him before.” She shuddered as she recalled the pale, cruel face belonging to the man running his hands over Georgie on the tape. Randy pushed her into the armchair and she flopped down reluctantly.

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“Right. You know now about Gangone.” She nodded. “He’s been taken care of.” “How?” “Dad, actually. Seems he and Gangone have a history of sorts. But—” he held his hand up to forestall what she was about to ask, “don’t ask, because Dad wouldn’t say. Suffice to say Gangone’s backed off, and you’ll be getting market value for your house, compliments of the little firebug.” She opened her mouth as if to speak, but he raised an eyebrow and stared her down, effectively stopping the flurry of questions he could see she was dying to ask. “The vamp, however, is another matter entirely.” He looked over at Chad, noting the set jaw, the darkened eyes, the silent stillness of his expression, and wondered once again just what was going on between his cousin and Crissy’s. “This one is compliments of René.” “René?” Crissy looked up at him in confusion. “How?” “Seems René dusted this guy’s wife. She was keeping her own little blood bank going of teenage wannabe vamps. Kids were little more than zombies apparently. So he did his Terminator number and wasted her.” “His Terminator number? What do you mean?” “Seems your old boyfriend is like judge, jury and executioner for wayward vamps.” “René? You’re kidding me!” “Not according to Marcus. Vamp police, I guess you could call it. Anyway, now hubby’s on the vengeance trail. Seems he somehow found out about you and René. He intends to see you meet the same end as wifey, although a bit longer and a bit more painful reaching the target. At least his wife’s demise was quick. He doesn’t intend to offer you the same consideration.” “And René told you this?” “Well, he told the others the other night. After he brought you back. I wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, if you recall.” Crissy blushed. “Yes, I remember.” “We’d only just found out about Gangone, and figured you had enough on your plate already without adding this to it.” “Okay, I accept that. But what now? How do we get Georgie back? We can’t just leave her there. For God’s sake, the man’s insane. He’ll kill her.” As if she weighed no more than Georgie, Randy picked her up and sat down on the armchair, planting her on his lap, arms around her. “We’re working on it, babe.”

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“We have until eight tonight when he calls us to work out where he’s holding her. Can’t call in Marcus or René for hours yet,” stated Ziggy. “However, that means the vamp who has Georgie will also be catching some shut-eye, so at least she should be safe that long.” “You call that fucking safe?” Chad roared, pointing at the tape. What they’d seen had shaken them all. Chad stood and paced restlessly. “Let’s look at the tape again and see what clues we can pick up,” said Ziggy. “Style of building, background noises—anything that might help us pinpoint the area.” “Hang on…” Randy lifted Crissy’s chin with a finger. “How about you go and lie down for a bit on Georgie’s bed, babe. There’s no need for you to watch that again.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lip quivered, but her voice was firm. “She’s stuck there because of me, Randy. She’s the one who’s tied up…” Her voice caught. “I’m watching it. I have to.” His lips found her forehead, laying a soft kiss there and he hugged her. “I know, babe. I know. Okay, hit Play, Chad.” The grainy image of Georgie—naked, strapped to a wooden cross with a ball gag in her mouth, her body showing red welts from the flogging she’d undoubtedly received, and a terrified look in her eyes—would stay with them all for a long, long time. Most worrying were the small puncture wounds on the side of her neck that dripped blood onto the floor. It was that, more than anything, that concerned them most. That, plus the vamp’s comment that she’d been a “tasty little appetizer before the main course”. By the time dusk arrived, they had watched the tape over and over, but were no closer to working it out. The feeling of uselessness among them was overwhelmingly frustrating. It looked like a typical dungeon, from what they could see. In one sense it was a relief when Marcus and René arrived in response to the messages left on their voice mails earlier. However, the fact that they were moving around meant René’s nemesis—Driscoll—must be doing the same. While the other men were talking, hashing out ideas, René came over to her, picked up her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, sweet. I never meant to put you in danger. I still don’t know how he was able to trace a connection between us.” “You couldn’t help it, René. I know that. But I guess I know the real reason you came back to town now.” “Part of it, yes. I’ve wanted to return since the day I left. I guess hearing what Driscoll intended forced me to do something I should have done years ago. Just my bad luck it was too late…” For us. The unspoken words hung in the air between them. She bit her lip and nodded. René dropped her hand when Randy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Marcus has a friend coming over. He may be able to help us.”

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Without another word, René nodded and walked over to the open door, staring out into the dark night.

***** “Ah hell, not Driscoll.” Marcus’ friend, Ricardo, had been quietly watching the tape, but jumped up when Driscoll’s face appeared on the screen. René looked at him curiously, his eyes narrowing. “You know him?” “Unfortunately, yes. That guy is one bad fucker. Seriously. Him and that crazy wife of his. Somebody should have dusted them years ago.” Marcus flicked a glance at René. “Let’s just say that half the job has been done. Hence the reason for this little pantomime that’s being played out for our benefit.” Ricardo didn’t miss the look Marcus shot at René. “You?” he said to René. “Fill me in.” “His wife is no longer…with us,” offered René. “This is part of Driscoll’s revenge against me. I’m curious though. How do you know him? I was under the impression he confined his activities to Florida.” Ricardo nodded and rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “Driscoll and I go way back. He blew into the D/s scene here about…oh, maybe a hundred or so years ago. Hard to remember the exact details. He’d not long converted Mrs. D at the time. Kinda weird relationship they had. I was running an underground bondage club at the time, so I knew her before she and Driscoll got together. She was a Domme, you see. And Driscoll was…okay, so it wasn’t hard to see that ‘submissive’ wasn’t in the man’s vocabulary. Maybe they saw kindred spirits in each other, or something. They liked to share their ‘toys’. One of my friends got caught up in their set. His death at their hands was very long and very painful.” “So,” Marcus said, “can you identify where Georgie is being held?” “Sure. Been there a couple of times. Driscoll and the missus used to throw parties for those in the scene. I stopped going when Mrs. D saw fit to discipline my pet at the time with a barbed whip in one of the private rooms. By the time I found where Mrs. D had taken her, her back and ass looked like hamburger meat. Like I said, the woman was a total bitch. Anyway… “You know that old place over on Sanderson Boulevard with the white gables and the turrets? Set right back from the road. That’s Driscoll’s old place. Dungeon’s easy enough to find once you get in there—a specially marked door leads to the basement. Trust me, you can’t miss it. But be careful getting in, though. He has some seriously twisted guards on that place to stop uninvited guests from dropping in unexpectedly.” “Okay, here’s the plan,” René said, as soon as Marcus’ friend had left. “Randy, you need to take Crissy somewhere safe, somewhere out of town.” “Sure, I’ve got a little cabin we can go to,” said Randy. 131

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“Hard to find?” “Only if you don’t know where to look for it.” “Good. Marcus, Chad, Ziggy and I will go in and get Georgie. Chad, Ziggy, you have somewhere you can head with Georgie while Marcus and I take care of Driscoll?” “Yep. My place,” said Chad grimly. “I turn on the security in that place, and it’s safer than Fort Knox.” He made eye contact with everyone, and they each nodded in turn. “Right, then. Let’s get moving.”

***** “What happened to my life, Randy? God, I can’t believe I was complaining to Georgie that my life is dull. Can you believe that? I’ve been attacked, my house is burned to the ground and now some vampire maniac is trying to kill me and Georgie. When will it end?” At Crissy’s words, Randy cast a quick glance over at her. She’d shed her last tears at Georgie’s. Now she was angry. But he could see what this whole experience was costing her—hell, had already cost her—and he was more proud of her than he could say that she was still holding up as well as she was. If it was one thing his mate had, it was guts. “Soon, babe.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Georgie—all of us—will come through this just fine—you’ll see.” Unwilling to use the headlights, Randy kept a close eye out for the turn onto the small, heavily treed lane that led to the cabin. Even though he knew where he was going, what to look for, he nearly missed it. Throttling back through the gears, he spun the wheel and nudged the truck past the thick stands of cypress that hid the cabin from immediate view. Cutting the engine, he coasted to a stop around the back. The night was still and warm, the air heavy with energy-sapping humidity. Even though the sky looked clear, the half-moon casting a faint glow on their surroundings, from the sounds of the frogs setting up a chorus in the old well out back, rain must have been on its way. Crissy was already out of the truck by the time he came around to her side. “Come on, babe.” He looked around, and although the dark didn’t bother him, a prickling sensation skittered down his spine. Just then a distinctive scent hit him. Oh shit! Vamp! “Babe, get in that door—fast!” Scanning the yard for any sign of movement, he pushed her through the front door ahead of him. He was reaching for his cell phone in his front jeans pocket when Crissy’s gasp got his attention.

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As he turned around, the sharp retort of a bullet pierced the night, and Randy stumbled back against the wall just inside the door, his free hand clutching his stomach. He looked down, seeing the dribble of bright red blood seeping through his fingers as he pressed on the wound. “Christ, not again!” Squinting with the pain, he grabbed on to Crissy as she rushed over. “Randy?” “I smelled a vamp as we got out of the truck—must be Driscoll.” He batted her hands away. “Never mind this. What did you find?” he asked impatiently, grimacing at his fingers as they came away coated with blood. Her eyes were locked onto the sight of the stain spreading across his shirt. Fuck. “Cris!” She looked up at him, eyes wide, her face pale. “What—” She cut off his words as she pointed and he followed her shaking finger. Luisa lay naked on the bed, her eyes unseeing, a gaping tear in her neck, blood soaked into the sheets where she’d been left to bleed out. “Oh shit.” “Far from it, actually, she was very tasty,” said the vamp as he stepped out of the shadows, a sinister grin on his face, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. “And a wonderful fuck too. Seems she was a little bit upset with you, Trudeau, dumping her like that. Didn’t take much persuading to get her to lead me to your little love nest.” Hell, he’d only brought Luisa out here the one time. “You’re one sick bastard, Driscoll.” Randy had met a lot of vamps in his time—good and bad ones—but there was something about Driscoll that was so inherently evil, you could almost taste it on the air. The vamp waved his hand. “That depends on your point of view.” His face hardened. “Now, just hand over Lamathe’s woman, and I’ll be gone. There’s no need for you to be involved further.” Unlike Marcus and René, Driscoll wasn’t tall, in fact he stood a good six inches shorter than Randy. And Randy had to have at least fifty pounds on him—even with his wound, Randy figured he stood a good chance of doing some damage. He backed up with Crissy and when they reached the front door, he pushed her outside, slamming it shut behind her. A lethal-looking switchblade appeared in his hand as he took up a fighting stance. “She’s my mate. There’s every damn reason for me to be involved.” “Like getting seconds, do you, boy?” He tsked at Randy. “That’s beside the point. She has the power to hurt Lamathe, and that’s all I really care about.” “Yeah?” Randy positioned himself in front of the door. “Well, you’re gonna have to go through me to get her.”

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Driscoll laughed and pointed at the knife Randy brandished. “You really think you can take me on with that toothpick?” He tossed the gun on the bed. “Fine. I don’t mind playing a bit before I take your woman. Nothing like a little something to work up an appetite.” The vamp hunched down in a fighting stance, claws replacing the nails at the end of his fingers. Waving them with menacing intent in front of Randy, he grinned. “Give it your best shot, hero.” Crissy stood outside, listening helplessly as Randy and the vamp fought it out. Fumbling in her bag, she dug around until she found her cell phone. Quickly pressing speed dial with shaking fingers for Chad’s number, she prayed for him to answer the call. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, she chanted to herself as she waited, flinching as the sound of furniture crashing and breaking reached her. Suddenly, Driscoll roared and charged Randy, fangs bared. Randy feinted and slashed at the vamp, slicing through fabric and skin, leaving a bright red line eight inches long across his chest, ending at his heart. Before he could plunge the knife in, Driscoll jumped back. “Oh, for that you get to watch as I take your woman, wolf. Maybe she’ll put up a bit more of a fight than the other one.” They came together, grunting and growling, Randy landing one more stab before vicious claws raked across the wound on his stomach, opening the skin in four deep furrows. He gasped and stepped backward, holding his stomach, falling to his knees as he squeezed his eyes shut against the excruciating pain. He blinked his eyes open when he heard the door open, and struggled to stand. Crissy jumped when the door opened, the vamp blocking most of the doorway. She glanced behind him. Randy was down, oozing blood from the wounds across his stomach. Crissy felt resignation flood through her. The moment had come. She straightened. No way would she run from this. Driscoll approached her, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face him. His black eyes bored into hers. She could see the bloodlust in them, the taint of the crazed animal that lurked within. She heard Randy calling out to her, the sound weak, the words laden with pain. “Yes, my dear,” said Driscoll, his tone honeyed, compelling, “look at me. Don’t worry about him—he’s nothing, he’s finished.” She knew what he was trying to do. The same thing Marcus had tried—and failed. But she let Driscoll believe he was mesmerizing her. It was the only advantage they had.

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“Just a little taste. Let’s see what the fuss is about—all these men prepared to die for you…” As he bent lower, the fetid stench of his breath washed over her, making her stomach roil and she fought not to flinch. Gritting her teeth, she kept her face blank. The broken piece of rotted floorboard she’d hastily fashioned into a stake, slid down from its concealment up her sleeve to her right hand. Just a little more… Just a little closer… Come on, you bastard. Come to mama… The timing would be everything. This had to work, or she really was dead—or undead. An anticipatory moan left his lips, and at that moment she raised her knee up with all the force she could muster, landing square in his balls. As he grunted and started to bend over with the pain, she drove her hand up, driving the stake directly into his chest. She held her breath as she waited to see if her aim had found its mark. He stumbled back, a brief look of shock and surprise on his face before he crumpled to the floor, his body disintegrating as she watched. Rushing for the railing, she leaned over and retched, again and again until her stomach was dry heaving. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she turned toward the doorway.

***** As he opened his eyes, and the fog of numbness was pierced by the intense burning pain making his gut clench, he realized he must have blacked out—again. Hell, he needed to stay conscious! Crissy had somehow moved him so that he was lying down, instead of propped up against the wall as he’d been earlier. A couple of pillows cushioned his head. But the pain was worse now than anything he’d felt before. And every muscle he so much as twitched sent shards of excruciating torture through him. At his gasp, Crissy looked up from where she’d been dabbing at the blood, trying to stem the flow. The tears had dried on her cheeks, but the look in her eyes was more determined than he’d ever seen. “We made it,” he croaked. “No, I made it, big guy. The jury’s still out on you. Again, in case it’s escaped your razor-sharp intelligence, you’ve been hurt.” A weary chuckle bubbled up, but ended with him flinching instead. “You just love sassing me, don’t you, woman.” “You could be dead now if that idiot had a bit better idea of anatomy. Who the hell did you think you were taking him on like that? Rambo?” She was crying again, tears sliding down her cheeks unchecked and unnoticed.

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He placed his hand over hers, stilling its nervous movement. “No, I was trying to protect my mate. We tend to take that kind of stuff pretty seriously.” “Randy, I-I—” “You were brilliant, babe. Awesome. Remind me never to piss you off.” He forced a grin and squeezed her hand. “Did you get hold of Zig? Chad?” More pain rippled through him and he gritted his teeth against the searing shaft of heat tearing through his abdomen. “I’ll keep trying. I promise.” “Good, babe. That’s my girl.” He could feel himself slipping away again. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but it was still dark outside. He glanced around the sparsely furnished room, looking for Crissy and saw her staring out the window, nibbling on a nail. “Stop biting your nails.” Her head spun around in surprise. “You’re awake!” In the blink of an eye she was kneeling beside him. Picking up a damp cloth from a bowl of water sitting beside him, she squeezed it and placed it on his forehead. The coolness offered him temporary relief. “Great powers of observation, babe. Not much gets by you, does it?” he teased. She snorted, but a tiny smile tilted the corner of her mouth. “Cheeky bastard.” “Yeah, one of my more adorable qualities.” He tried lever himself up, to get more comfortable, but the effort was too much, eliciting little more than a weak gasp from him. With firm but gentle hands, she pushed his shoulders back down, shaking her head. “Where are the guys? Did you get hold of them?” “Finally. The signal out here is really shot, if you’ll excuse the pun. I had to walk up that little hill out back, but I managed to reach Chad, finally. They should be here soon. All of them.” “Georgie? She’s safe?” She bit her lip and nodded. “Good.” He closed his eyes. “That’s good.” He didn’t want to worry Crissy, but just the effort of talking was nearly too much. In spite of the pain in his stomach that felt like acid burning through it, all he wanted was to sleep. He forced his eyes open. “Cris?” “Hmmm?” She leaned over him with a fresh cloth, her face creased with concern, and he gripped her hand as best he could. He tried to smile, but it came out watery at best. “Do you know how much I love you? Knew the moment I saw you…you were the one.” He could feel himself floating

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into the black fog again, but this time the pull was stronger, sucking him down, further and further. “Sorry…didn’t tell you…sooner…damn idiot…”

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Chapter Fourteen For a moment, it seemed as though her heart stopped. When his hand flopped lifelessly out of hers, she screamed, “Randy?” Panicked, she leaned closer, her eyes skimming over his face as she placed her fingers along his carotid to assure herself the pulse was still there, his heart still beating. It was weak and thready. Up until now, she hadn’t been prepared to face the fact that he might not make it, that she could lose him, but it hit her with all the suddenness of a sharp smack in the face. Tears tracked freely down her cheeks and she brushed at them impatiently as she leaned over to whisper in his ear, “And I love you too.” Fatigue and worry flooded through her and she started to sob harder. “Oh, honey, I love you too.” She only hoped he heard her. That it wasn’t too late… The sound of tires tearing through dirt and rocks before screeching to a stop outside made her lift her head. She stood quickly and raced to the window. She didn’t recognize the blue Cherokee, and her heart started to thump a frantic beat, but when first Ziggy then Marcus and René stepped out of the vehicle, she rushed to the open door. “Thank God you’re here.” René gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead. “It’s all right, Christina. We’ll get him back on his feet again.” Ziggy moved in behind them carrying a black leather bag. He knelt beside Randy and immediately raised his knees. “Damn, that looks nasty. Bullet wound. Shit, nice claw wound. Marcus, keep his knees there, will you? Relieves the pressure on the abdomen.” Crissy hovered, wringing her hands, not sure what she could do to help. With a calm expression on his face—a hell of a lot calmer than she was feeling— Ziggy looked up at her. “I need you to answer some questions for me, Crissy.” “Sure.” She knelt at Randy’s feet on the dusty floorboards. “Has he vomited or complained of any nausea?” “No.” “Okay. Good. Now I need you to show me where they both were when Randy was shot.” “Hell, I don’t know.” She paced over to the door, Ziggy right behind her, and pointed. “Randy was here. The vamp was…” she waved her hand in the direction of the small kitchenette opposite, “somewhere over there, I think. It all happened so fast I didn’t really see. Why?”

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“Gives me an idea of the velocity of the bullet. How much internal damage there could be.” “Oh. Right. You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” “Special Forces. I was a medic.” “Talented family,” she said and smiled weakly. “Can you help him? Is he going to die?” The sound of a motorbike pulling up outside interrupted them. He grabbed her shoulder and squeezed, giving her a small smile and a nod, seeking to reassure her. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Seconds later the door opened and Georgie stomped in followed by Chad. “I told you, I’m fine!” gritted out Georgie, her voice rising with exasperation, turning to Chad and shoving the bike helmet in his stomach. Chad glared back at her then placed the helmet on the floor just inside the door. “The way you jumped off my bike before it stopped, you nearly broke your goddamn neck.” “Chaaad. Will you please stop fussing! Christ!” “Georgie!” Crissy jumped up to hug her, pulling back when Georgie flinched. Crissy grimaced. “Sorry,” she apologized. “You okay?” She picked up Georgie’s hand, looking over her cousin, even in the dim light of the hurricane lamp that was the sole source of light, not failing to see the bruising on her face. “She refused to stay put,” Chad stated, his expression surly, as he went to check out Randy. “Stubborn woman,” he mumbled. “Drive a man fucking nuts.” Georgie frowned at Chad before she turned to Crissy. “I’m fine—nothing that some painkillers and a heavy dose of revenge won’t cure. Speaking of which, where is that bloodsucking bastard? I’m going to fry his damn balls before I shove them down his—” “Georgie!” Crissy stopped her cousin, worried by the murderous glaze that came over her eyes. “What?” “He’s dead, Georgie. I killed him.” Georgie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You?” “Yeah, me.” At the news, Georgie’s head dropped, and her shoulders slumped, as if the last little bit of fight had gone out of her. When she looked back up at Crissy, the trauma of her ordeal was plainly visible in her watery eyes. “Enough about me. How’s Randy, Cris?” She flicked a concerned glance over to where Randy lay on the floor with Ziggy working over him. Crissy bit her lip and hugged herself, the fear for her mate threatening once again to overwhelm her. Her eyes burned from trying not to cry. Tears wouldn’t be any use to 139

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either of them. “Not good. Ziggy’s not saying much. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not…” “He’ll be fine, Cris. You’ve got to believe it.” Georgie gave her a quick hug then released her, turning her toward Randy. “Ah, he’s not a vamp too, is he? I mean, this has been a real education and all…” Crissy managed a half smile, and patted Georgie on the arm. “No, not a vamp. Marcus and René are though.” “Get away!” Georgie shook her head. “God, you think you know your friends…” she mumbled. “You okay, Georgie?” “Sure. Fine. You go back. Go on.” “You sure you’re okay?” “I’m fine. Honestly.” Crissy was surprised when Georgie walked over to stand in front of Chad and watch Ziggy, making no comment when Chad slid an arm across her chest and pulled her up close, leaning down to whisper something in her ear that had Georgie glancing back over her shoulder at Chad before she nodded to whatever he said. Crissy took her place again on the floor, watching Ziggy work methodically to cleanse the wound, and assess the damage. The next hour passed with interminable slowness. Legs aching and cramping, she stood to stretch her legs, gritting her teeth as the blood started to flow again and pins and needles stabbed up the limbs. Marcus leaned over to converse with Ziggy in muted whispers. “God, what’s going on?” she asked René, worry tearing at her. Randy was so pale, his breathing so labored, his body covered with sweat. “Ziggy’s been at it now for ages.” “I don’t know, sweet, but Ziggy looks very capable. And your mate will come through this. He’s strong, determined. Plus he has a lot to live for.” He gave her a bittersweet smile. “I thought werewolves had magical healing powers, but he’s just not getting any better.” “Some wounds are harder to heal,” said René, “Especially ones from vampires.” Marcus stood and approached them. He glanced at René and then back to her, his expression serious. “We don’t wish to worry you, but Randy is not doing so well, Crissy. The problem is the cuts made by Driscoll across Randy’s abdomen. A mature vampire’s claws can discharge a fatal poison, and if that’s the case here, there is nothing Ziggy can do to stop the wounds from worsening. They refuse to close and Randy’s blood loss is now reaching a point where Ziggy is concerned.”

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She dug her nails into her arms in an effort not to cry at the news as Marcus continued. “I’ve suggested to Ziggy something that may help, however he won’t agree to it without your permission. But I need to know that you trust me to do this thing. Believe me that I would not suggest this if I felt it would increase the danger to Randy. In fact, at this point it may be the only thing that saves his life.” In the short time she’d known Marcus, she knew him to be a good man, and, more importantly, a very good friend to Randy. She nodded. “I trust you, Marcus. What will you do? Can I help?” Marcus glanced at René and caught an answering nod. “I would like to offer some of my blood to him, Crissy. Vampire blood has some unusual and rather, I guess you could say ‘magical’ properties. Especially from old coots such as myself,” he said with halfhearted attempt at humor to ease the tension. “But how?” “Some will go directly into the wounds. Some will have to be taken internally. Randy will feel no discomfort, I assure you.” “But he won’t…you know…” He smiled. “No, my dear. You know there are rules to that, and to be perfectly honest the thought of turning your mate into a vampire is not one I relish. He’s more than enough trouble as a werewolf. God forbid he should become one of us.” She mustered a weak smile for Marcus, her eyes watering in spite of her resolve not to cry. “Good. He’s got enough women falling all over him already. If he ended up with those mesmerizing eyes you vamps have, I might have to kill him.” “Then I have your permission?” “Yes, whatever it takes. Please.” “Very well. Let us—” “No.” They both turned to René. Chad and Georgie looked over too. Although quietly spoken, the one-word sound resonated through the room with authority and command. “René,” Marcus acknowledged, his eyes wide in surprise. “What objections could you possibly have?” “No objections, my old friend, except that I would like to be the donor. My blood is as rich as yours. And…I would like to do this small thing for Crissy and her mate.” He reached out to rub the back of his fingers down her cheek. “What you say is true. Your blood or my blood—the result will be the same. But the decision is Crissy’s. Crissy?” René looked at her earnestly. “It is the least I can do for the trouble I’ve caused.”

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Crissy looked into René’s eyes, her heart clenching at the shadow in them of what used to be, the resigned acceptance of what was, and the sincere desire to do this for her and Randy. She nodded her head. Rubbing her hands up her arms, she watched as René took the place beside Randy that Marcus had vacated. “Did the bullet exit at the back?” he asked Ziggy. “Yes. The trajectory was pretty straight.” “I’ll need some assistance to turn him in a moment.” Ziggy nodded. René’s upper lip pulled back, exposing his incisors as they dropped from their sheaths, and he bit into his wrist, opening a deep cut that immediately swelled with droplets of blood. Holding his wrist over the tear in Randy’s stomach, he allowed the dark red drops to fall into it—a dozen or more. Crissy watched in amazement as the wound steamed and then started to mend. With Ziggy’s assistance, he and René turned Randy over and repeated the process over the bullet exit wound. By the time they were finished, beads of sweat were running down Randy’s face, his chest, and he was moaning. “Is he all right?” Crissy asked, stepping closer. Marcus moved next to her and held her arm. “His reaction is to be expected. His body is merely repairing itself. Nothing to be concerned about.” As they watched, René placed a hand over Randy’s forehead and closed his eyes. “The sucking of blood for a non-vampire is something they are inclined to fight,” Marcus explained. “Now René is simply calming Randy, encouraging him through his thoughts to accept the next step.” Ziggy held Randy’s mouth open as René covered it with his wrist. After a feeble attempt to break away, requiring Ziggy to move his hand from his mouth to hold his head with both hands to stop him from thrashing from side to side, Randy relaxed, his throat working to indicate he was then sucking on his own. After a moment, René withdrew his wrist, licking the wound to seal it. It was only at that moment Crissy realized she had been holding her breath. “It is done,” René said as he stood. “In a few moments he will come to. Some weakness may persist, but the damage will heal. A few days from now he shouldn’t even have a mark to show for it.” “You guys should bottle that stuff. You could make a fortune,” Georgie joked weakly. “Now there’s an idea,” grinned Chad. “Unfortunately, someone would have to replace the supply from the…ah…source, and personally—nothing against you guys, of course,” he said, nodding at René and Marcus, “but I prefer anyone sucking on my neck to be of the female variety—non-fanged if possible.” He grunted as Georgie’s elbow dug into his ribs. 142

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“Such a shame, my friend,” said Marcus. “One or two lady friends of mine have indicated quite a fascination with your neck. Amongst certain other body parts.” “Hey, no offense, but no thanks. I like my blood. Every single drop of it.” Chad shuddered. “You shouldn’t knock what you haven’t tried,” teased Marcus. “I’m told it’s quite…pleasurable for the man.” “Yeah, well, I’ll pass. Thanks all the same.” René walked over to Crissy and took her hands in his. “And now I must leave. I doubt your mate would be too thrilled to see me here when he comes to.” She freed her hands and wrapped them around him, hugging him tight, tears in her eyes as relief flooded through her. “Thank you. This means so much to me.” “I know.” His eyes locked on hers, he lowered his head as if he was going to kiss her. So close, she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. “Be happy, Sunshine. That’s all I ever wanted.” “I know. And you. I’m sorry, René. For everything.” “Take your fucking hands off my mate!” Crissy’s heart pounded in her chest, and she turned to see Randy panting and struggling to rise before Ziggy leaned on his shoulders, forcing him back down. “Stay still, you damned idiot.” “But, hell! That’s my mate he’s got his big mitts on!” “I think that’s my cue to leave, sweet.” He smiled, an affectionate, gentle quirk of his lips before he turned to Randy. “Trust me, you have nothing to fear, friend. I was merely saying goodbye to your mate. And now,” he turned and nodded to them all, “I really must go.” “You’re not staying in New Orleans?” asked Crissy. “No. I have a life now elsewhere. I’ve…done what I came here to do. Now I must get back. Adieu.” He saluted them, a cavalier flick of his fingers off his forehead. One more squeeze of her hand, and he was gone, swallowed up in the night. “Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?” Randy glared around at the circle of people surrounding him. Crissy hurried to kneel beside him and nibbled her bottom lip as she debated how best to tell Randy what had transpired while he was unconscious. “What’s with you and René, babe? You better not be thinking about leaving—” She leaned over to kiss him, intending a quick brush of her lips against his, just to reassure them both, but was surprised when a pair of strong hands grabbed her head and deepened the kiss, taking long moments to send her a very definite message. When Randy finally released her, she gasped and blushed.

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“I think we can take that as a good sign,” teased Chad, draping his arm over Georgie’s shoulder. “Next he’ll have her naked on the floor. Hey, anybody ever tell you two to get a room?” She glared briefly at Chad before turning back to Randy. “You’re a goose, Randy Trudeau, you know that?” “So what happened? What’s with you and René?” “Ziggy didn’t want to move you, honey. And…well, Marcus offered his blood to heal the wound.” “Yeah. And…?” “René… René asked to be allowed to do it, for me…for us…you and me,” she added quickly. “The vampire blood—” “Yeah, it’s okay—I know all about that. I watched Marcus once…” “And…” She turned to the others. “Give us a moment, guys? Please?” “Chad?” Marcus caught Chad’s eye. “How about you giving me a hand with Luisa. Somehow I suspect that the New Orleans police department won’t be terribly understanding with a body showing up with her kind of injuries.” “Sure, man.” Georgie moved to hold the door open while the two men struggled with the limp body, waving to Crissy as she followed them out the door. As Ziggy stood, he squeezed her shoulder. “Nothing too energetic, okay?” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t want to bust open those wounds. “Tell that to your brother,” she said with a smile as she looked down at her mate. She waited until they were alone before she nestled on the cold floor alongside Randy, careful not to hurt him. But at that moment she needed the closeness, needed to convince herself that Randy was going to be okay. More than anything she needed to be held by him. “Did you mean it?” she asked as Randy’s arm came around her, holding her to him. “What you said before about…about…” “About what? God, babe, it’s all a blur—I have no idea what I said earlier. I think I was delirious.” “Oh.” She sat up and looked away, a little pain tearing at her heart. “Hey.” He turned her back to him, his voice softening. “But if you’re referring to me telling you I love you…I remember that bit real well.” He pulled her against him, her head on his chest listening to the steady thump of his heart. “I don’t know how else to tell you, to make you realize what you mean to me. I don’t want to live without you, Crissy. I love you so much that at times it nearly drives me insane.” She lifted her head and rested it on his chest so she could look at him.

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“And I love you, Randy.” She reached over and touched her lips to his, feeling a heady mix of relief, joy, happiness fill her. “So,” he said, as they broke apart, “does this mean you’ll marry me?” She laughed. “But you told me we’re already mated. Isn’t that the same thing? Until death us do part, and all that?” “True.” He traced a finger along her face, down her jaw. “But I want to make sure we have all the bases covered. You’re never getting away from me, Cris.” “I don’t want to, Randy.” “Hey, that looks cozy,” said Chad, his head peeking around the door. “Room for one more?” “Chad, you’re a fucking nuisance. Go get your own woman.” Randy looked back at Crissy and smiled. “Like I told you before, this one is most definitely taken.” “Yeah, I kinda got that. Look, we’re all heading back. You want a lift, or are you two lovebirds gonna snuggle up here ‘til you run out of food.” “Snuggling sounds good,” he winked at Crissy, “but I’d rather do it in my own bed. Give me a hand, man, and let’s get the hell outta here.”

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Chapter Fifteen Swinging his legs onto the floor, Randy stood and stretched. Nothing, not even a twinge to indicate the trauma his body had gone through. That vamp blood—even if it was René’s—was good stuff. But he was determined this was the last day he’d wake up to an empty bed. Crissy was just worried, he knew that. Worried she’d somehow hurt him, open a wound or something. But he was fine. More than fine. He was goddamn horny. And if he had to chase her down to prove he was up to the task, he was prepared to do just that. Although he was tempted to walk downstairs naked and cut right to the chase, he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat yesterday’s experience when he’d wandered downstairs hoping to throw Crissy over the nearest piece of furniture and make a rather strong point, only to find his mother in the kitchen swapping recipes with his mate. He grimaced. Hopefully she swapped a few cooking tips while she was at it. His appreciation for carbon à la carte was running on empty—kinda like his stomach. Walking over to the dresser, he pulled open his underwear drawer and grinned. Instead of neatly folded Jockeys and boxers, a selection of Victoria’s Secret stared him in the face. A warm feeling filled him at the sight of Crissy’s things looking so permanent in his home. Then he shook his head and laughed. A rainbow of colors, all tossed in willy-nilly, like most of her things. The woman had absolutely no concept of “neat”. It was one four-letter word she certainly didn’t embrace with any degree of enthusiasm. A quick glance around his room showed her presence in more places than just this drawer. His normally plain bedroom, done in shades of white and blue—pristine, spartan—now looked like the inside of a gypsy’s caravan. Dresses draped over the couch, hanging off doorknobs, shoes tossed on the floor where she’d stepped out of them, God knew what else, were scattered around the room in a wild carnival of colors. It was like living in the middle of a whirlwind. But far from being pissed off, he found he actually liked it. Liked the feel of permanence to it. Like she’d burrowed in for good. Returning to the drawer, his eyebrow rose as he held up a red bit of silk and lace that looked like it would hardly cover a goose bump. Oh yeah, this whole “mate” thing was great! He pulled out another scrap of satin, this time in electric blue that brought back memories of the dress she’d had on that night at Baby Blues. His cock sprang to attention just thinking about his mate in that dress. It was a shame it had burned in the house that night. No, on second thought, it was just as well. He knew there wasn’t much that could provoke him to murder, but seeing the looks on other guys’ faces when she swished that luscious butt past them in that dress was definitely one of them.

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Curious now, he rummaged further and stopped when his hand touched something hard. Wrapping his hand around it, he pulled it out. And frowned. Pushing bras and thongs to the side, he uncovered a veritable stash and his frown deepened. He slammed the drawer shut. “Crissy!!” Uh-oh. Crissy glanced in the direction of their bedroom where the bullroar emanated from and smiled. Now that was more like it. She’d tiptoed around Randy for days, waiting until he was back to normal. And from the sounds of that bellow, he must be feeling fighting fit and raring to go. Taking one look at her latest disastrous cooking effort—little burnt rocks that were supposed to be like Randy’s scrumptious cinnamon cookies, but better resembled barbeque briquettes—she tossed them in the trash, brushed off her hands, and flew up the stairs. She rushed in the room, but was surprised to find the bed empty. “Randy?” With a loud bang, the door slammed shut behind her. She spun around, seeing Randy standing there with his hands behind his back, a dark scowl on his face. “Randy? What’s wrong? Are you—” “What are these?” His voice was deep, the words clipped and measured. His “no nonsense” voice. A shiver of delight went through her. She bit the inside of her mouth to stop the chuckle that would have escaped when she saw what he was holding up. She looked at him innocently. “Ah, vibrators. What do they look like?” “I realize that,” he replied testily. “More to the point, what are they doing here?” If only he knew how damn hot he looked standing there totally naked with his hands full of sex toys and a raging hard-on that pulsed against his abdomen… Her mouth watered just looking at him. But he looked so indignant, she couldn’t resist playing with him a little. “You want to tell me why you’re snooping in my undies drawer, Randy? You don’t have a…ah…” she pursed her lips, “confession you want to tell me about, do you?” she teased. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” “You know, like a fetish. Some guys like to wear women’s underw—” “No! God, woman!” His frown deepened as her smile widened. “You mind telling me why your underwear drawer is full of sex toys?” Hot. So totally darn hot. She shivered with delight. Every inch of him was bristling, one bit in particular that just made her want to drop to her knees. “Easy. I didn’t know how long you were going to be out of action—” He cut her off, the warning in his eyes and the deep, slow rumble of his voice making her pussy flood in anticipation. “You mean you’ve already used them?” “Only once…” “Once is one time too many,” he bit out.

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“But, honey, you were hurt…” He stalked toward her, making her step back until the back of her knees hit the bed. She licked her lips at the look on his face. So determined, so damn sexy… It was hard to keep a straight face. She felt like cheering. Her man was back! Yay! He leaned over her, amber eyes flashing fire. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am never, ever, going to be too hurt to make love to you, babe. So trust me, you won’t be needing these.” He tossed the dildo and the vibrating butt plug on the bed, the rest of them he turned and threw back in the drawer. “You just let me know when the urge hits, and I’m there. Now, strip off like a good girl.” God, she loved Randy when he got like this—all alpha and dominating. Every cell in her body was primed and ready. Her mind raced at a hundred miles an hour trying to decide what she could use next time to provoke him. “Why? Have I been a bad girl? You going to punish me, Randy?” He tried hard to remain stony-faced, but his eyes flared just the same. “Let’s just call it positive reinforcement.” It took all her control to tamp down on the chuckle that was busting to break free. He was so damn transparent—he was looking forward to this as much as she was. And it took some doing, but she had to force herself not to get naked in two seconds. She’d waited three days—he could wait a few minutes more… Taking her time, she reached behind her and slowly freed each button on the back of her sundress, taking special delight in the change that came over him—the subtle flare of his nostrils, the chest rising and falling with his deeper breaths, the golden highlights in his eyes becoming darker—as she thrust her breasts out while she strained to release the tiny buttons. His eyes narrowed. “You teasing me, Crissy?” “Nope. Wouldn’t dream of it.” She wriggled as she shimmied the straps down over her shoulders, making her breasts jiggle under the silky fabric. “It’s just that some of those buttons are a bit hard to reach.” She thought she caught a whisper of a smile, a glint in his eyes. Finally, the dress dropped to the floor with a silken sigh. “No underwear, huh? You always walk around the house nearly naked?” “Always.” Yep, and there was a damn good reason for that. Nothing like being ready at the drop of a hat… A scowl appeared on his face, furrowing his brow. “What about if company comes calling?” She blew him a pouty kiss and winked. “I guess it’ll just be our little secret then, won’t it?” she said, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He laughed, finally. “Sure will, babe. Okay, now come here.” “Where?”

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He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him, pulling her up tight against his chest. “Right here.” He lowered his head and kissed her then, bruising his mouth over hers, nipping at her lips until she opened them and then pushing his tongue inside, insistently stroking against hers until he got a response. When she would have reached her arms up to wrap around his neck, he grabbed them and pulled them away, breaking the connection of their lips, leaving her gasping for breath. “Oh, no, Crissy. We still have one or two things we need to…discuss…yet.” A wolfish grin spread over his face as he sat on the bed and pulled her over his lap, facedown, his hand on her back holding her in place. “Now, just open those legs a little bit…that’s the way.” A moan bubbled up when he positioned his steel-hard erection between her thighs, the heated rod rubbing along her already damp labia. “Perfect.” He made a few test thrusts, the silkiness of her juices allowing him to slide easily. “Oh yeah.” He leaned over her to lick a path along the line of her neck to her ear. “Comfy?” he whispered, his voice taking on a familiar husky tone. Comfy? Comfy didn’t even come close to what she was feeling. All she could do was close her eyes in bliss and nod as she relished the feeling of him sliding up and down through the swollen lips. Each upthrust pulled slightly on the sensitive nub at the top of the folds. God, at this rate, she’d come before they even got to the spanking. Crissy shivered as he ran a hand over the rounded curve, allowing a finger to slide down the crease, tickling her folds, then teasing the tight bud of her anus. Hmmm…more… Lost in the sensations, a sharp slap across a buttock caught her by surprise and caused her to flinch. A delicious, stinging warmth bloomed over her skin. A smack on the other cheek followed by a sensuous caress of the well-rounded cheeks made her wriggle on his lap. Which was one hell of a distraction with his cock still rubbing against the soaked lips of her pussy. Randy chuckled low in his throat, but tried to sound firm. “This is meant to be punishment, Crissy. Stop enjoying it so much.” Oh sure, dream on, big guy. “Bite me, Randy.” “Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting to that bit. Just a little more reinforcement…” She arched her cheeks up, trying to spread her legs further when he dropped his legs, nudging the bulbous head of his cock at her vagina. Squirming on his lap to try to position the flared crown more firmly over her labia just brought another slap. “Here’s a thought… How about you reinforce that cock of yours somewhere where we can both feel a bit more positive about it?” He smacked her again, harder. “Cheeky wench. I’ll be the judge of when you’re ready…”

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I’m ready, I’m ready, she felt like screaming. More followed, until she was panting, each sharp blow enough to sting and warm, but not really hurt. Every nerve ending on her ass was tingling. “You gonna be a good girl for me now, babe?” He leaned over to lick a moist path over the abused flesh, a delicious chill running over her buttocks as he blew on the dampened skin before laying kisses over the ultrasensitive flesh. Hell, she had to be dripping. A moan left her lips as the head of his cock nudged at the spread lips of her vagina again. “Answer me.” “Yes!” “Good.” As he spoke, he lifted her off his lap to a standing position in front of him, his hands gripping her hips, which was just as well, since she was having trouble standing on her own. “Just so we’re clear on this…” he leaned forward to kiss the mound of her pussy, before his tongue lapped further down, teasing her clit with flicks and swirls, “…I’m responsible for your pleasure, baby. And that’s final.” He stood up, crowding her, his expression resolute. The hard thrust of his erection pushed at the softness of her belly. “And what about you, big guy? What about your pleasure?” she asked as she placed her hands on his chest, then slid down his body until she was kneeling on the floor. She blew on his cock and watched it jerk in response. “You, baby. Only you.” He gripped her head, his fingers scrunching in the strands as he brought her face closer. “Now open up that pretty mouth and suck it.” Keeping her eyes on Randy, noticing the clenched jaw, the tenseness in his face as his excitement rose, she waited until the head of his cock was nudging insistently at her lips before she slowly opened her mouth and allowed him to ease just the tip inside. He nodded at her. “Wider. Open up, babe, and let me in.” She watched the grimace of pleasure as she wrapped her lips around him, allowing her tongue to caress the velvety skin all the way down the shaft as he thrust slowly in and out. Inhaling, she relished the male scent, that mix of sweat and sex, and hot man. Her man. “That’s it, honey. Oh, fuck…” His breathing increased, his cock shuttling faster, pistoning inside her mouth as she trailed her fingers up his inner leg, stopping to run her nails over the puckered skin of the tightening sac beneath his cock. She moaned as a small taste of pre-come trickled over her tongue. He was getting close. She could feel it, taste it. The muscles of his legs bunched and the grip on her hair tightened. He panted. His hips pumping against her face as she strained to take every inch. Lips stretched around the width of his cock, relishing the painful tug on her scalp that indicated he was nearing his peak, she dug her nails into the tight muscles of his butt. With a jerk, he stiffened and roared, and the first hot spray of his come hit the back

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of her throat, followed by another and another. Closing her eyes with satisfaction, she swallowed eagerly. Opening his eyes, he looked down at her. His breathing rough, he withdrew from her mouth, the shaft still glistening and semirigid. She licked her lips, humming with the taste of him that lingered in her mouth. He pulled her up, kissing her hard, tongue swirling inside her mouth. “Now that we’ve taken the edge off mine, let’s see what we can do about you. On the bed.” He slapped her ass once more just to reinforce the command. Oh yeah, bring it on, she thought as she scampered up onto the cool sheets…

***** Randy grinned with pure male satisfaction as he looked down at Crissy lying boneless on the bed, a lazy, satiated smile on her face, her body languid and loose from an overdose of passion. He’d planned on fucking her once or twice for starters, just to impress on her that he was back to normal, until he found her little secret stash of goodies… Since then he’d fucked her in just about every position imaginable—with help from her toys and without. Now she was limp as a wet noodle from coming so many times. But he had one more to go, one that would make her realize the only sex toy she needed, would ever need, was him. “Come on, baby, I know you’re tired. Just turn over for me…that’s it.” With a cheeky grin, Randy rolled Crissy ‘til she was facedown on the bed and grabbed a pillow to slide under her hips. “That’s it, honey. Knees up, that’s perfect, baby. God, you’re beautiful.” It was a sight that never failed to make him want her with an obsessive need that almost took his breath, and he caressed the fleshy mounds, cupping them in his palms, seeing, through the gap between her legs, the dampness on her thighs, a mixture of her cream and his come. “Did I ever tell you how much I love your ass? Honey, I had dreams about your ass for months…” Reaching for the tube of lube, he squirted some into his palm, gritting his teeth as he ran his hand up and down his cock, smearing the slippery liquid over its length. They’d used the toys—all five of them—but for this last time, he grabbed the big blue vibe, the eight-inch vibrating one she seemed particularly partial to earlier. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, running his tongue around the rim before nipping on the lobe. “You still with me, sweetheart? You’re not sleeping, are you?” Her eyes fluttered open. “No. Definitely not sleeping. Not yet.” She stifled a yawn. “Good. Just checking.” Moving back to watch, he worked the dildo inside the snug depths of her pussy, watching as the plump lips worked around it, feeling the tension as her muscles clenched on the rigid length. When it was fully seated, he leaned over to kiss the soft skin of her butt, breathing deeply of the mixture of sweet scents that surrounded his

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well-loved woman, gently stroking the vibe in and out until Crissy was moaning, hips twitching, lifting, moving against his hand. With his other hand, he slowly eased the butt plug out of her ass, his eyes darkening with hunger as he noticed the little pucker didn’t quite close. “Oh Jesus, sweetheart.” He’d have a heart attack at this rate before he slid his cock in there. His breathing shallow, he grasped his dick in his hand and aimed for the pouting little hole, tucking the head at the entrance and nudging it until it the reddened skin started to flower open around the head of his cock, the promise of heat and indescribable pleasure making his gut clench as he pushed in until the head was lodged just inside the tight ring of muscle. “Okay, babe, we’ll just take this nice and slow…nice and easy…hell, yeah.” He gritted his teeth as he moved slowly, watching intently as his straining shaft eased further inside her, the tightness of her ass as he slid out and back in sending shivers over his body. Completely submerged in the sensation of the silken slide of his straining flesh going deeper, deeper. “More, Randy…” Her soft little whimper penetrated the fog of lust surrounding him, the pinch of the muscles around his shaft tearing a groan from him. “Please…” He inhaled sharply as her hips lifted, pushing back against him so that he slid in the final inches until he was fully seated inside the virgin channel. He was panting, sucking in great draughts of air as he fought not to pound into her. But the clench and release was…it was… “More. Harder.” “Shit. Slow down, baby.” His hands tightened on her hips, as he tried to control the urge to thrust, hard and fast. “Don’t…want…to hurt you.” “You won’t, Randy. For God’s sake, will you move!” And she pushed back against him, moaning, then drew her hips forward so that he almost slid out of her—would have if his hands weren’t digging into the curves of her hips. Minx! If she thought she could take control this time, he had news for her. Keeping the pace slow, he gradually increased it until she was pleading—begging—him for more. Reaching underneath her, he flicked the switch on the vibe, jerking as he felt the vibrations along the length of his shaft through the thin wall separating his cock from her pussy. With a growl, he powered inside her again, dropping over her back to blanket her and hold her down, all semblance of control shattered. Pumping faster and faster, digging deeper each time, relishing her groans, the way she gripped and released his cock. Fuck, he was going to die at this rate. He inhaled the scent of her hair, lost in the feel of her moving under him, submissive, willing, giving him everything he needed, everything he asked for,

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everything he could ever want. “This is it, mate. Just you and me and all the loving you can take.” “Yes!” “Love me, baby?” “Oh God, Randy, yes! Yes!” “Love you too, Crissy.” He nuzzled the side of her face, licking at the sweat that ran down her cheek. “Forever.” Pulse pounding in his veins, he felt the hot streaks of pleasure shooting down his spine, the tingle of electric heat blooming in his balls and along the length of his thickening cock. Desperate now to come, lost in a primal craze to imprint his heart and his soul on his mate, he laved the skin of her shoulder, finally settling on the spot where he’d first bitten her, first marked her as his, and bit down. Ripples of sensation raced down his cock as she cried out and exploded underneath him, the walls of her pussy clenching around the vibrating dildo, making the muscles of her ass grip him like a fist. Streaks of fire shot out the head of his dick, and Crissy trembled underneath him, crying out as her orgasm took her again and again.

***** He’d already called Ziggy to tell him not to expect him back at work for a few days. He had a more important job to do. Ever since they arrived back from the cabin, a certain scent had filled the air every time Crissy came near him, getting stronger every day, and it wasn’t just the scent of lust. Nope, his little mate was fertile. Ripe as a peach ready for plucking. Funny, but he’d steered clear of any woman who ever smelled that way, the sharp tang of their fertility working on him more effectively than a cold shower. But not this time. Bussing her lips with his, he waited as she opened one eye lazily and smiled at him. “Hey, beautiful.” “Big guy. What’s up?” “Plenty.” He rubbed the hardness of his shaft along her thigh, prodding at the swollen mound between her legs. When she slung her leg higher over his hip, opening her up further, he couldn’t help himself, and pushed just the crown inside the delicious warmth and wetness of her channel. “You remember telling me you wanted kids, honey?” “Sure,” she murmured. “Lots. Why?” “You have any sort of timing in mind?” He licked a long line down her neck, laving the bite on her shoulder until she shivered. She giggled softly. “Well, sooner rather than later. Why?” 153

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“Sooner just arrived, sweetheart.” As she came fully awake and her eyes widened, he moved over her, sliding in between her legs as he settled in the cradle of her thighs. “What? You mean—” She moaned as the head of his cock prodded a little deeper, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist so that he sank in to the hilt, wrenching a savage groan from him. That was one thing he loved about Crissy. Always wet. Always ready for him. “If you want a baby, honey, then I suggest we don’t waste any more time. You okay with that?” “Oh, you mean practice?” She chuckled. “Haven’t we done enough of that?” He smiled down at her, blown away once again that this gorgeous woman was all his. “This is the real deal, honey, the main event.” Resting easily on his elbows, he grasped her face in his palms, rubbing his lips over hers until she parted her lips. Licking inside her mouth until her tongue met his. With a sigh, he pulled his mouth away from hers, resting his forehead against hers. “Crissy, you’re ovulating.” “You can smell me?” “Uh-huh.” He looked up, searching her eyes. “And, baby, it’s driving me insane. So if you don’t want kids just yet, you better tell me within the next few seconds, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…” His hips had set up a steady thrust and withdraw, the feel of the velvety insides of her cunt sucking him in further and further until he just wanted to bury himself in there and never come out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, long and deep, before pulling back and looking into his eyes. “Do you hear me saying no?” she whispered against his lips.

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About the Author One thing Susie Charles could never say is that her life has been boring. Having lived in more places than she can remember and tried enough different occupations to fill a job guide, has given her a wealth of experiences to draw upon in her stories. Now, as a writer of erotic romances, she works diligently to live up to her lusty image. Always looking for inspiration wherever she can find it, she has a disconcerting habit of checking out the “talent” when she goes shopping with her adult daughters— although, for them, she draws the line at whistling at strange men. She spends her spare time walking along the beach where she lives, ostensibly exercising while she plans new stories, but more often than not visually distracted by the delicious abundance of almost naked male flesh she uses as “inspiration”. Needless to say, with her boundless and undiminished appreciation for the male of the species, her heroes are always hunky sex gods who will do anything to make their lady happy. Being of the curvy variety herself and knowing how most males just love curves, her heroines are never model-thin, and are fun, sassy and intelligent to boot. Susie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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