Diva in Denial

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Diva in Denial ISBN 9781419916915 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Diva in Denial Copyright © 2008 Lacey Savage Edited by Mary Moran. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication June 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, 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 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) 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.

DIVA IN DENIAL

Lacey Savage

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Mazda Miata: Mazda Motor Corporation Sex and the City: Time Warner Entertainment Company Martha Stewart: MSO IP Holdings, Inc. Dear Abby: Phillips-Van Buren, Inc. National Geographic: National Geographic Society Corporation

Author’s Note Historically, wolves have lived among us for millennia. They’ve been the subject of much speculation and the inspiration behind a number of mythological stories and fairy tales. Over a hundred years ago, however, driven by fear of their own safety and the safety of their livestock, folks began hunting wolves in extraordinary numbers. Although public sentiment regarding wolves took a different turn in the mid 1900s, the damage had already been done. In 1973, the US government passed the Endangered Species Act protecting gray wolves, and the restoration of these majestic animals in their natural habitats began in earnest. Today, thanks to a progressive but controversial reintroduction program, wolf packs roam Yellowstone National Park in relative freedom. Some areas of Yellowstone are so remote that human contact is virtually unknown. Although wolves also inhabit Idaho, Montana and Wyoming, there have been rumors of wolf sightings in upper New York. To date these rumors have been unsubstantiated. Male alphas rule in most typical wolf packs, however there have been documented instances where the female alpha rules over the male. Though rare, such instances have been the subject of various scientific studies and journalistic behavioral reports over the years. Most wolves sport tan or gray fur. White and black wolves are very rare but they do exist in the wild. However, such wolves are never spotted or striped. The existence of a striped black wolf is purely the author’s creative license, meant to show the unique DNA of the werewolf. Throughout the book, the terms “moonrise” and “moonset” are used to indicate the rising and setting of the moon. Contrary to what one would expect, the moon rises early in the morning and sets late in the evening, in a pattern very similar to the rising and setting of the sun.

Lacey Savage

Prologue The moon tugged at Cheyenne’s limbs with all the force of an angry mistress. It crept up her calves, scratched the sensitive area from knee to buttock and dug its claws into her hips. For once, the forest floor provided no comfort. Her entire body arched off the ground as the moon’s pull forced her legs and arms to lengthen while her ribs contracted with a soul-numbing spasm. She cried out, the sound echoing in eerie contrast to the utter silence of the forest. The pain shouldn’t have been this fierce, but running during the better part of the night had left her weak and much too vulnerable to the ravages of the shift. Her eyelids snapped open to peach-colored rays of sunshine peeking through a mass of velvet-green foliage. Moonset had come and gone. In the span of a few seconds Cheyenne had transformed from wild predator to defenseless human, made even more so by her solitude. She raked a hand across her sleep-numbed face. How did Devlin stand it? She’d been on her own for only six days, yet sheer boredom had already driven her mad with longing for home. A smile touched her lips at the thought of the pack. They’d awaken now, same as she, though far less exhausted, in the shadow of Yellowstone’s massive canyon valley. Cheyenne’s stomach growled. She should have hunted before falling asleep. Procuring breakfast in wolf form proved infinitely easier than trying to chase after rabbits in her human guise. Besides, she didn’t have time for that. She had to keep pushing herself hard to make significant progress, even if she had no idea where she was going.

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She sighed. Being sent on a quest was one thing. Being sent on a fool’s errand was quite another. She had to find Devlin. That much had been made perfectly clear, though instructions on how to do that were slow in coming. Someone knew where he was, though. Someone she thought she’d never see again. Nico. She swallowed hard, banishing the image of a tall, muscular man with flowing brown hair and startling blue eyes. A man, who, in a moment of hormone-laden madness, had nearly cost her everything. Something brushed against her thoughts. A distinct caress, a vague impression of a broad, masculine hand against her cheek. And then a tug on her heart, one that made her stomach clench and her pussy throb with remembered need. Damn you, Nicoló. She made a small, incoherent sound in the back of her throat and allowed her hand to trail down the length of her flat stomach to nestle among the tiny curls between her legs. Parting her slick nether lips with two fingers, she sucked in a breath as a cool stream of air fluttered over the dewy skin. A spark of desire flared in her clit, sending a sharp jolt of arousal to clench her inner walls. Her index finger tapped the entrance to her pussy. The tender nub ached, begging to be touched, yet she ignored it. Delaying gratification was a skill. One that came with its own brand of rewards. Nico would know where to find Devlin. He could take her to him before it was too late. She couldn’t help but wonder whether it already was. Had the human woman she’d been warned about laid her clutches into the male who’d been chosen to lead the pack at her side? Were they together even now?

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A shudder rolled through her. She couldn’t allow some ordinary stranger to seduce Devlin. She’d stop her, even if she had to— You will not interfere. The voice speared her mind like the prick of a hundred needles. She yelped and curled up on her side, tucking her knees into her chest, all thoughts of pleasurable distraction forgotten. She remembered that voice all too well from the vision the pack oracle had induced the morning Cheyenne departed on her journey. She could still smell the pungent aroma of the herbs used to tease out images from the billowing smoke. The scent reminded her of burned flesh, summoning memories of her mother’s body smoldering just minutes after the conclusion of the Matriarch Trials. At moonset on the day Cheyenne had been forced to kill her. A shudder of revulsion tightened her stomach in a solid knot. She heaved, but her throat closed, refusing to allow even that brief moment of respite. Find him. Devlin is the key to your destiny. Lose him and you lose everything. The pack will be destroyed. Bring him with you on Samhain. He must be at your side at moonrise, or else rivers of blood will coat the canyon. “I—” The words wouldn’t come. Soot coated her tongue, filled her mouth with an acrid taste that couldn’t possibly be real. Black-tinted fog enveloped her vision. Cheyenne blinked hard to clear it, but only succeeded in making out a familiar figure. The specter broke away from the dark mist and grinned, its teeth dripping with blood. Cheyenne screamed. Her mother’s ghost looked down on her, her brow twisted in its usual frown, completely at odds with the macabre smile. “I don’t understand!” The words came out as barely more than a whisper, but it was better than anything she’d managed to utter thus far. “You forced me to chose him once before. He refused to obey. And the morning I left, you showed me the woman

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who would be with him. You said she was someone he cares about. How can I bring him with me if I can’t interfere? If I can’t…” The rest of the sentence hung in the air, unspoken. Hurt her. Kill her. It was all Cheyenne had ever been taught. >From birth, her mother, the leader of their pack, had trained her to one day take over as queen. As a child, Cheyenne had always envisioned that day being a long way off. Half a century maybe. When her mother was old and gray and could no longer rule, she could give her a merciful death. An honorable death. One that would cement her legacy in the pack’s history for all eternity. That wasn’t the way it happened at all. Her mother had been a healthy female in her prime when she’d forced Cheyenne to challenge her for leadership. She remembered that day as though it had been only yesterday and not two years earlier. The morning had dawned bright, full of promise. It ended with tears and blood. So much blood. “Blood will coat the canyon,” Cheyenne repeated, fighting the currents of terror wrenching her thoughts. “How am I supposed to prevent any of this?” The cruel apparition glanced upon her with disgust. I should have known you’d snivel. It’s all you’ve ever been good at. Don’t you ever grow up, child? Now haul your ass off that forest floor and do as you’re told.

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Chapter One A Diva isn’t afraid of anything. She takes the world by storm and makes it submit to her will. Men, incidentally, should be handled the same way. Look them in the eye and let them know what you want and how you want it. A man may like to think he’s the one holding all the cards, but in fact, you should always be ready to dazzle him with a royal flush at a moment’s notice. The trick is in revealing no more than you want him to know, a little at a time. And always, always, always keep an Ace up your sleeve. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

In the glamorous day-to-day life of a Diva, sweat trickling into the sensitive valley between her breasts was cause for celebration. Dewy, moisture-slicked skin likely meant days of precise planning had led to a perfectly executed evening that ended with the desired result—a passionate, erotic encounter a man would never forget. In the Diva’s bedroom, the scent of male musk would blend with the aroma wafting from potpourri-filled bowls. The stereo would be set to low volume, a woman’s husky voice drifting in languid sensuality through the perfumed air as she crooned a love song. There would be mountains of pillows beneath the Diva’s head as she writhed beneath her lover, and the fleecy Egyptian cotton encasing the feathery mattress would prevent their sweat-slicked bodies from ending up in a tangled heap on the floor. Although if that sexy little falling-off-the-bed move was on the night’s menu, the Diva could make that scenario occur too. Ava Atwood knew every trick in The Diva’s Handbook. She’d written every one of them herself. She was, however, no Diva. 10

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The trickle of perspiration making its excruciating way toward the underwire of her bra didn’t come from amorous activities—or even from innocent, titillating thoughts. No, that single rivulet of sweat meant only one thing. Ava was scared to death. She swallowed hard and tightened her fingers around the steering wheel. The leather squeaked beneath her firm grip. Rain pelted the windshield with fat drops, their constant patter on the roof of the car sounding much too loud in the otherwise quiet interior. Blood roared in her ears, vying for attention with the storm raging outside. She hadn’t passed another vehicle in thirty minutes. Driving in this remote area of New York’s Tug Hill Region was often a solitary endeavor. Braving the narrow, rain-slicked roads at 4 a.m. during the worst thunderstorm of the year took a special kind of courage. Or stupidity. Ava strained against the seat belt, hoping to make out something that wasn’t sheer blackness. Only the smooth feel of the pavement beneath her tires told her she was still on the road. She should have pulled over or waited for the storm to abate when she’d driven through Boonville. At the time, it had seemed silly to stop when she’d come so far and was so close to true freedom. So she’d pushed it, urging her little Miata on despite the compact sports car’s loud whirring complaint every time it hydroplaned across a menacing puddle. “Come on, baby…hang in there just a little longer. The cabin’s not far now.” She hoped that was true. It had been almost a decade since she’d come out here, but it didn’t seem as though much had changed in that time. Boonville had looked the same as she remembered when she’d passed through forty minutes earlier. Quiet, peaceful, tucked away from prying eyes. It had looked like heaven.

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Solitude was exactly what Ava needed. No cell phones, no email, no constant inquires about her welfare from women desperate for another shred of gossip to add to their scandal-laden lives. As though to punctuate that thought, a flash of lightning split the black sky. Ava screamed and tapped on the breaks. The car skidded sideways into the oncoming lane, tires squealing as it flew across the slick pavement. Ava’s breath halted in her throat. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as she yanked on the steering wheel and brought the Miata under control. It wasn’t until she was safely on her side of the road that she allowed herself to breathe. Tears stung her eyes, dripped over her lash line. “Damn it, Ava…don’t do this. Not now.” She tasted salt on her upper lip. She’d come here to celebrate freedom, not to lose it in her haste to get away from everything associated with the life she’d left behind. Someone else’s life now. A new Mrs. McLaughlin would take her place in a few days. A younger, thinner, prettier version. A fresh wave of tears blurred her vision. Sorrow squeezed her heart. Funny how she still felt nothing at all toward the woman who’d fucked her husband on their couch while Ava was out grocery shopping. The bimbo had even smiled from her perch on Emmett’s lap when Ava walked through the door, arms loaded with paper bags. She could pinpoint that exact split second as the moment her soul had gone numb. Ava didn’t even ache when she looked at the papers tucked into a manila envelope on the passenger seat. Those documents may have legally proved her marriage was over, but she’d known that long ago. The sorrow making it hard to breathe was only directed at herself. Denial had kept her married to a philandering, thoughtless man for twenty-one years.

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She had no one else to blame. She’d kept the blinders on, drawn down tight so she could block out every stray blonde hair on her husband’s suit jacket, every touch of lipstick on his collar, every stray whiff of cheap perfume. A true Diva would have never allowed herself to be made a fool of. That fact alone only served to prove what Ava had known all along. The woman who’d written the syndicated Diva on Demand newspaper column for almost five years was a fraud. Every piece of sage advice Ava had published focused on using natural female charms in combination with the domestic arts to attract, seduce and keep a man. And every word had been a lie born of Ava’s futile attempt at creating a life she’d never lived herself. She watched the windshield wipers swing back and forth across her field of vision. Rain fell in thick, straight sheets, dimming the light shining from the Mazda’s high beams. When another lightning strike bathed a small sign that read Tug Hill Lane in white light, a jolt of relief careened through Ava’s tightly corded limbs. She smoothed her palm over the steering wheel. “See? I told you we were almost there. Nothing to worry about.” A fluid turn took her onto an unpaved side road. Though she couldn’t make out the cabin yet, she knew it was there, waiting for her. Neglected and vacant. Just like her heart. The structure crept into view like something from a nightmare, no more than a looming dark shadow against an even blacker sky. The torrential downpour hid all the external details from view, but Ava held no illusions about what she’d find when she got close enough. Years of disuse had to have given the place an air of shabby disregard. Well, no matter. Polishing the cottage would give her something to do. She’d been looking for an excuse to put some of the home improvement and decorating skills she’d

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learned over the years to use. A project she could throw herself into was just what she needed. She followed the road around a circular bend, which brought her up to the front of the cottage. The wraparound deck gave way to a small set of stairs that led to the front door. There was no garage or even a tarp-covered overhang—something she’d have to remedy in a hurry. Ava brought the Miata to a full stop, yanked on the emergency break and turned off the ignition. Rain continued to pour, the drops reverberating like a million little footsteps on the roof of the car. She wished she’d slept in this morning, but the excitement of striking out on her own kept her tossing and turning for hours. At 2 a.m., she gave up pretending to sleep and checked out of the seedy motel where she’d spent the night. Sucking in a deep breath, Ava unbuckled her seat belt and reached behind her for the box she’d prepared in advance. She tugged it onto the passenger seat and threw the manila envelope on top of the rest of the contents. Aside from the suitcase of clothes in the trunk and the car itself, everything Ava owned was in that box. It contained her clutch purse, the deed to the cottage her parents had left her, a flashlight, a copy of The Diva Handbook, a pack of mint gum and three binders filled with clippings of her columns. And, thankfully, an umbrella she’d purchased at the same time as the gum from a gas station just outside Boonville. Everything a woman needed to start a new life. It took more juggling than she’d expected to balance the umbrella over her head and the box under the crook of her arm, all while dangling the car keys from her index finger and locking the car door before rushing up the set of steps to the porch. By the time Ava reached the front door, she was soaked to the bone. Her teeth chattered as she fumbled with the lock in the dark. A litany of murmured curses rolled off her tongue, but she finally managed to slide the key home. When she turned it to the left, nothing happened. 14

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“What the hell?” She tried again, twisting the key to the right this time. A solid click slid the bolt home. She tried the door handle as ice trickled down her spine. Locked. Quickly, she flipped the key one last time. The door swung open on silent hinges. Inside, the cottage’s interior loomed dark and foreboding. She’d expected the smell of mold and dust to be overpowering, but the scent that tickled her nostrils was clean and fresh, like aired-out laundry. Thunder rolled behind her, making her jump. Chiding herself for her foolishness, Ava took a step over the threshold. This was her cottage. And it was abandoned. Vacant. Waiting for her to return and restore it to its once pristine condition. So what if the door had been unlocked? That didn’t mean anything. She didn’t remember her parents ever locking the front door when they came here anyway. The place was as safe and secluded as a cottage could be. Likely as not they hadn’t seen the need to lock up behind them when they left, thinking they’d return the following weekend. Tears stung Ava’s eyes. They hadn’t returned. And since their death, neither had she. Until now. Taking a deep breath, she willed her hammering heart to slow. She was being silly. There’d been no other car parked outside, and reaching this remote area on foot required remarkable athletic prowess. Not to mention an outstanding familiarity with the region. Still, she’d be cautious. Living in Manhattan had taught her that much. She might not have been a Diva, but she wasn’t stupid either. Ava licked her suddenly dry lips and kicked the door with her heel. It didn’t slam but latched with a soft click as it closed. After shucking off her muddy shoes, she set the box down on the floor, closed the umbrella and groped for the flashlight with one hand. The electricity had been turned off for years. She’d need to hire someone to check it out today and ensure it still

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worked. The gas heating system should be fine, but those lines needed to be assessed as well, just to be on the safe side. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Daybreak had already begun lightening the sky, though if the storm continued to rage, it would be a dark, dreary day. Still, a little rain never stopped her from doing what she had to, and Ava intended to start just as soon as the nearby businesses opened their doors. In the meantime, she needed to evaluate the cabin and figure out just how bad things had become in her absence. She flicked on the flashlight and swept the beam over the large room that served as entryway, living room, dining area and kitchen in one. Pale white light danced over the faux-wood vinyl floor tiles, the floral-print couch and the walnut dining table. Everything was exactly where she remembered it. Only instead of cobwebs, dust and mold, she found a dirty plate and a coffee mug littering the tabletop. On the couch, a pillow and woven blanket lay in a heap. And on the floor, muddy dog footprints made a trail from the front door, through the kitchen to the hallway leading toward the single bedroom and attached bathroom. “Shit.” The curse slipped out before she could stop it. Pressing her lips together, she willed herself not to make another sound. Someone had been living here. Recently. This was the last thing she’d expected. Who’d been here? And for what purpose? If whoever had invaded her home was still on the premises, she hoped he’d see reason and vacate without too much fuss. Otherwise she’d have to involve the local authorities, and that was not the way she wanted to spend her first day at the cottage. Or maybe whoever had been living here was already long gone. She paused, held her breath and listened for signs of life. There was nothing. Cautiously, she made her way around the couch toward the far end of the living room, shining the flashlight into the fireplace as she passed. No smoldering embers hinting at recent use.

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Emboldened, she walked through the kitchen and into the hallway separating the front of the cottage from the rest of the rooms. She gripped the flashlight in her left hand. In her right, she held the closed umbrella high over her head, ready to use it as a weapon at a moment’s notice. A Diva isn’t afraid of anything. She takes the world by storm and makes it submit to her will. That sounded incredibly stupid. Her editor should have never let her get away with including that silly bit of wisdom in her column. A Diva lived longer if she didn’t take foolish risks. That’s what really should have gone in the damn handbook when the compilation came together. She forgot to breathe as she focused on attempting to place one sock-covered foot in front of the other without making the slightest noise. The howling storm aided her efforts, rapping against the windows with staggering force. Ava paused outside the bedroom and flattened herself against the wall. The door stood wide open. No sound came from inside—at least, nothing she could hear over the rampaging rain. One… Two… Three! She jerked her head sideways into the doorway and angled the beam of the flashlight toward the far wall where she remembered the bed being. She’d been right. The bed was still in the same spot. Even the covers were the same ugly green and blue plaid her mother had loved. She could have sworn, though, that the massive black wolf that slumbered draped across the covers hadn’t been part of her parents’ interior decorating plan. Highlighted in the neon burst of light she held pointed at its head, it looked like something out of a wildlife painting. Black from head to toe with the exception of a perfectly white stripe running from the tip of its nose to its forehead, the creature spanned the entire length of the bed. Its chest rose and fell slowly with the force of its breathing, the only indication that this beast was in fact real. 17

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That realization smacked hard into Ava a moment before the wolf opened its eyes. It squinted against the bright light, but even through the narrow slits Ava could make out piercing sapphire orbs that seemed to look past the glare of the flashlight and gaze right into her soul. Survival instinct broke through the shock permeating Ava’s body. She screamed, a sharp, high-pitched shriek that merged with the peal of overhead thunder. Her legs felt heavy, but she managed to back away, stumbling into the hallway. The flashlight fell from her limp fingers and clattered on the ground. She clutched the umbrella in both hands and staggered backward, keeping the bedroom entrance in her sights just in case the wolf decided she looked tasty enough to be its morning meal. Light seeped through the large windows encasing the room. It was gray and murky, but it allowed her to make out the contours of the furniture as she continued to shuffle toward the door. But to get there, she had to make her way through the openconcept kitchen, dining room and living area first. Oh boy. “No sudden moves, Ava,” she murmured under her breath. Why hadn’t her editor ever asked her to write a column on how a Diva should deal with a predatory animal that looked twice as big as she was? Now that would have been fascinating reading for any Manhattanite. The vinyl tiles squeaked against her socks. Heavy steps thudded. The beast was coming for her. She backed another step. Then another. Her back collided with something curved and narrow. The refrigerator door handle. From where she stood in the kitchen, the front door was at least fifteen feet away. Frantic, she eyed the hallway leading to the bedroom. A shadow fell across the floor. She’d never make it. Gripping the umbrella hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pain up her arms, she gritted her teeth and prepared for the fight of her life.

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Something moved inside the hall archway. The shape loomed even larger than she’d imagined, as wide as the span of the doorway itself and nearly as tall. Ava’s gaze darted to the floor. The first thing that registered were feet. Bare feet. Human feet. While her heart hammered so hard she feared it might break through her rib cage, Ava took in lean calves and muscular thighs. Her gaze drifted over a dark patch of pubic hair and a long, thick, quiescent cock. Even through the haze of terror that clouded her mind, she knew she wanted to linger on that delectable sight. Still, she forced herself to keep looking up along the smooth planes and valleys of healthy, tanned skin—across a flat, rippling abdomen, higher still along the firm lines of a finely sculpted chest and into a face that made her heart skip a beat. The beginnings of a scruffy beard bordered full lips and covered an angular jaw. A straight nose led up to bright blue eyes and a broad forehead unmarked by the slightest wrinkle. He couldn’t have been older than thirty, if that. Dark eyebrows and unruly brown hair that reached down to his shoulders completed the breathtaking visage. This was no wolf. He was all man from his toes all the way to the top of his head. Big too. As if towering over her five-foot-four frame wasn’t enough, he also looked strong. Dominating. Confidence seemed to roll off him in waves as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. Ava blinked. He didn’t disappear. She blinked again, faster this time, and swung the umbrella from side to side. Too little sleep, too little coffee and a brush with certain death had caused her to imagine things. Wonderful, impossible things. When faced with their own mortality, some women had their lives flash before their eyes. She conjured up a handsome younger man to come to her rescue. Naked.

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Chapter Two As primitive cave etchings show, for as long as there have been men, they’ve been hunters. It’s in their nature. They go after what they want, and pursuing prey makes them want it even more. Let yourself be pursued, but don’t grow lax once he’s caught you. Putting in the effort is half the fun for him. Make sure the chase lasts longer than it takes for him to get you into bed. Let your lover, your boyfriend or your husband work for your affection. Make him feel like a hunter. Coincidentally, that, Divas, is the key to a lasting marriage. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

Devlin was no expert when it came to human women. Since leaving his pack to forge a new life for himself over two years ago, he’d spent little time in their company. A few fleeting minutes of brief pleasure in back alleys, barns and parking garages didn’t come close to revealing the hidden truths of the human female’s psyche. If he had to admit the facts, he’d say he didn’t know a thing about human women. On the other hand, he’d had plenty of experience with females of his own species. So much experience in fact, that he’d chosen to run away and live a life of solitude rather than submit to one as a permanent mate. If there was one thing the females of his pack had taught him, it was that women were vicious, cruel creatures who weren’t satisfied until they destroyed every ounce of natural dominance a male possessed. He’d heard the phrase “pussy whipped” whispered with scorn among the humans in the village. He knew all too well what it meant. So he should have been alarmed when he entered the kitchen and found the woman who’d invaded his slumber still in his home. She stood three feet away, 20

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scattering beads of rainwater onto his bare torso each time she swung a giant black umbrella from side to side. Instead, he found himself oddly intrigued. And wet, which quickly turned his fascination into annoyance. “Stop that,” Devlin commanded. Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She drew her plump lower lip between her teeth and stared at him in open fascination. That inconsequential gesture made her look unexpectedly vulnerable, and he found his irritation receding even though the umbrella never ceased moving. He lifted an eyebrow as another shower of tiny water pellets peppered his skin. “Please.” The word felt foreign on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d uttered it. Surprisingly, it had the desired effect. The woman’s jerky movements came to an abrupt halt. She still held the umbrella like a sword she prepared to thrust into his chest at the slightest provocation, but that didn’t bother him nearly as much as the unexpected cold rain shower had. Or even half as much as the way she continued to look at him with an unabashed curiosity that made his skin tingle everywhere her gaze came to rest. She’d fixated her scrutiny on his face, but soon dropped her focus from his eyes to his torso then down to his stomach for a brief moment only to snap back up to his eyes. For the fraction of a second she’d centered on his cock, he could have sworn he’d felt the heat in her eyes travel a scorching path down the length of his groin. His cock stirred, awareness prickling his balls and the delicate skin of his shaft. The flaccid length stiffened, brushing up against his inner thigh and sending a sudden stream of sensation to burrow deep into his balls.

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His visceral reaction to her innocuous look made his thoughts reel. His sexual reactions to human women had always stemmed from receiving an explicit signal, a carnal gesture meant to entice and seduce. As a member of the pack, he’d occasionally been sent on missions that involved exploring human habitats and observing human customs from a distance. This level of detailed knowledge had been vital for protecting the pack and keeping its existence a secret. Over the years, human customs had found their way into pack behavior, as had other more mundane items such as the use of English names. The time Devlin had spent scrutinizing humans had served him well. Once on his own, he’d quickly learned aspects of human behavior he hadn’t been able to discern without walking among them. Among his chief discoveries had been the fact that while human women were often more docile and submissive than those of his pack, they could also be just as sexually bold and daring as the females of his species. Other times, they could be cunning and treacherous, traits he knew well. They schemed and plotted, controlling their men in less obvious ways. He’d observed various couples in the village long enough to understand that while men were naturally dominant in human societies, women quietly ruled the world. He enjoyed physical pleasure as much as the next werewolf, but he didn’t want to be ruled. Not by the females of his pack, and not by the many divorcees, widows and bachelorettes who came on to him every time he strolled into Boonville. Over the past year, the brief couplings in unexpected places had grown more rare with each passing month. He missed the transient connection that came with being so close to another person, but he could do without the complications. Besides, he’d chosen his life. It meant solitude and a certain degree of celibacy, neither of which had proven as difficult as he’d expected. He preferred freedom to domination, even if it meant isolation and seclusion. So the sudden, intense reaction to this woman made no sense at all. 22

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Trying to wrap his mind around the cause of his unexpected erection only served to harden his shaft farther, so he forced himself to focus on something else. Like the delicate strands of rain-slicked hair that stuck to her temples, or the way her breasts pressed up against her soaked shirt— Damn. Devlin growled, the sound vibrating low in his throat. His cock had gone from halfmast to pure steel in less than three seconds, and this female was to blame. This human woman who’d stormed into his home and invaded his slumber at the exact moment of moonrise when his shift occurred. “Who are you?” The question came out harsher than he intended, but he stifled the impulse to apologize and soften his tone. The tip of her pink tongue peeked out as she swiped it over her lower lip. “Diva. Uh… Ava.” “Diva.” He tasted the name on his tongue and found it suited her. Dirty blonde hair lay plastered to her head, but it was long and thick, its silky shine apparent even through the tangles that bunched the sleek tresses into random knots. Her round face and full cheekbones were accented by a lush mouth and tiny nose while brilliant green eyes stood out in sharp contrast to her pale skin. “Ava,” she repeated. He dismissed the correction. The second name she offered didn’t match the vibrancy he saw in her eyes, or the lush, round curves of her body that begged to be noticed. Ava was much too unassuming a name for a woman who wielded an umbrella with the fearless grace of a cornered tigress. Devlin straightened to his full height and moved away from the doorframe. He was done letting this woman throw him off balance. It was time to regain control of the situation and remove her from his home. Although her shoulders stiffened as he neared, she didn’t back away. Her chin came up a fraction of an inch, giving her a haughty, dignified air. 23

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Ah, this was much better. An arrogant, superior female he could deal with. He’d had plenty of practice. Unfortunately for him, Devlin found himself entirely unprepared to be within touching distance of the woman. To his utter dismay, she looked even more beautiful up close. No, beautiful didn’t even begin to describe what he saw when he looked at her. Ravishing was more like it. What he’d taken for pale, unremarkable skin looked luminescent when he came within arm’s reach. A few pale streaks of dawn peered through the heavy cloud cover and bounced on the floor-to-ceiling window. Pink light scattered over her hair, bringing out reddish highlights in her damp locks. Her chest rose and fell with the force of her breathing. A glistening sheen of what might have been rain, sweat or a mixture of the two dotted her cleavage, drawing his attention to the narrow valley peeking out above the lace V-neck of her blouse. Worst of all was the scent whirling through the air. The women in the village often wore chemical-laden perfume that made his eyes water. He’d come to associate the astringent, bitter scent with human females in general, but Diva smelled nothing like he expected. His keen senses detected half a dozen aromas wafting from her, each more appealing than the last. She smelled of rain and mint, of soap and fresh-baked bread. But most of all, she smelled of Diva, a unique blend of natural female perfume imbued with the faint tang of unmistakable arousal. The combination nearly brought him to his knees. Despite the myriad reasons scrambling his brain and screaming this was a very bad idea, Devlin reached out and brushed the back of his knuckles across the delicate skin of her cheek. She started. Her gaze turned wary. She watched him with a mixture of apprehension and desire but made no attempt to move away from his touch.

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Devlin leaned in. His mouth hovered a breath away from hers, so close he could almost feel the ghostly touch of her lips brushing against his. “Why are you here, Diva?” She swallowed hard. Her tongue swept out to lick at her lower lip again. He’d been standing much too close. The tip of her tongue came into contact with his mouth, sending a jolt of arousal to flood his veins and jumble his thoughts. The answer to his question would have to wait. He grabbed her upper arms and yanked her to him, crushing her mouth with his. She whimpered, but the sound came out muffled, trapped between their lips. For a moment, she made no move to either fight or give in to him, and just as reason began to break through Devlin’s lust-haze thoughts, she wrapped her arms around his waist. The breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding tumbled out and he kissed her as though his life depended on it. She opened to him, parting her lips beneath his questing tongue, letting him enter her, sample her. God, she tasted even better than she smelled. The flavored blend of mint and feminine sweetness traveled through him in a mad rush, tightening his groin, ripping a strangled groan from his throat. She felt so soft and vulnerable in his arms. He tightened his hold, pulling her even closer, suddenly needing much more of her than he could gain from a simple kiss. There’s nothing simple about this, Dev. Nothing. Even as the thought struck, it began to fade, lost on the sound of another delicate moan. Since she was at least a head shorter than him, she had to stand on the tips of her toes to kiss him back. Her palms traveled up from his waist, exploring every muscle. She clutched at his shoulders when she came to them, her fingernails digging into his flesh.

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The scent of her arousal intensified. Sweet and slightly spicy, it tickled his nostrils and taunted him with every breath he took. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her, wishing he could part her pussy lips and delve inside the sweetness that had to be waiting there for him. Before he could give his impulsive move a moment’s consideration, he freed her mouth and hooked an arm around her knees. Lifting her off the ground, he gathered her to his chest and strolled back into the hallway, the way he’d come. “Wha…What are you doing?” Her eyes had gone wide with surprise. She shoved at his chest. “Put me down. I’m heavy.” He grunted his disagreement. His muscles corded, tightening with the effort of carrying her, but she weighed nowhere close to what he could comfortably carry. His strength had been his greatest asset when he’d decided to break away from the pack and make a life for himself on his own. No longer a true wolf, yet nowhere near human, he’d been forced to find a way to support himself. He’d traveled for weeks before realizing he couldn’t survive on his own. Before leaving the pack, all he’d ever known had been Yellowstone National Park with all its bountiful wealth of natural resources. Wandering from state to state, he’d kept well off the beaten track, using forested areas for cover as often as possible. By the time he crossed the border into Canada, he knew he couldn’t live like a wild animal. Not alone. Somehow he’d found his way to New York. While traveling near Boonville, he overheard two lumberjacks talking about a stranger who’d come to town just that morning, looking to rent out the cottage he owned. Devlin had found the man that afternoon. To his relief, the owner had been as eager to rent the place as he was to have a roof over his head, so there’d been no talk of showing identification or proving credit rating—neither of which he had. Work came easy enough after that. Folks in the village always needed someone to perform tasks they found too difficult to undertake themselves. He hauled a few crates 26

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and earned enough money to keep clothes on his back and food he didn’t have to kill himself in his belly. It seemed a fair trade. The moment Devlin crossed the threshold into the bedroom, Diva shrieked and shoved at his chest, suddenly fully alert. “No! The wolf— Put me down!” He halted just inside the room. Lifting an eyebrow in mock surprise, he glanced at the empty bed. “There’s no one here.” She pummeled his chest with her closed fists and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Devlin refused to let go. Her heartbeat pounded incessantly against her rib cage. He could feel the vibrations traveling through him, setting his own pulse on edge. Tightening his grip on her thighs and waist, he pressed her against his chest, regulating his own heartbeat to a steady rhythm he hoped would soothe hers. He’d done it plenty of times when nearing prey so as not to alarm the creature with his inopportune excitement. It had worked then. To his relief, it worked now too. At last, Diva stopped fighting him. She heaved a ragged breath. Her breasts rose with the effort, drawing his attention to the delectable mounds. “There’s no wolf,” she said cautiously. She clung to his neck fiercely, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, and peered into the well-lit room. “That makes no sense. I saw it. Right there.” She pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the bed. “Here?” He strolled to the place she indicated and set her down gently. “I’m the only one who sleeps in this bed. I swear it. You’ve got nothing to fear.” Intending to calm her terror before she bolted from the room, he climbed onto the mattress beside her. She eyed him in suspicion and scooted back against the bedpost. “This is crazy…” Sucking in a deep breath between her teeth, Diva rubbed the bridge of her nose as though trying to ward off a headache. “I don’t even know your name.” “Devlin.”

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She crossed her arms over her chest. The message couldn’t have been clearer if she’d spoken it. Stay away. In all the time he’d lived among others, he’d never once done what he’d been told to do. His behavior had caused no end of problems for his mother. Males should be docile and well-trained, she’d told him countless times. Devlin was nothing of the sort. Too wild, too independent, too hard-headed. And always much too impulsive. “You got a last name, Devlin?” He moved so fast she didn’t have a chance to anticipate the action. Reaching for her wrist just below her right breast, he pulled her arm away from her chest and yanked her to him on an angle. Caught off guard, she pivoted on her delectable ass and tumbled straight into his arms with a soft oomph. His throbbing cock pressed against the base of her spine. “No.” She gasped. Her back stiffened and a shiver ran through her, one that vibrated all the way up Devlin’s chest. He tensed along with her. His hands rested on her waist. It was a light touch, more caress than demand. His message was clear too, though he had no way to explain the impulse that had anchored him to this path. Stay. He waited for what felt like an eternity for her to make up her mind. Her muscles bunched beneath his hands, as though she prepared to leap off the bed at any moment. When she released a deep breath and relaxed slightly against him, he wrapped his arms around her midsection. It was a small victory, but he’d take it. Something told him this woman was used to running away. The extraordinary thing was that he wasn’t ready to let her go. “Well, umm…Devlin. Right.” She cleared her throat and turned her head away. Her back was pressed to his chest and he could feel the thundering force of her heartbeat as it pulsed through them both. “This is awkward.” It should have been, Devlin realized. But it wasn’t.

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She fit against him perfectly. Her lush, curvaceous body molded to his lean, masculine form. And she smelled like heaven. No, there was nothing awkward about this. There was nothing logical about it either. “Why?” he asked, extending his legs and hooking them around hers. She wriggled slightly, but he’d trapped her against him. Which meant she was stuck with him for as long as she wanted to be. If she struggled hard enough, he’d let her go. He hoped she wouldn’t. “Well, for one, I don’t know you. For all I know, you could be a mass murderer.” “I don’t murder. I hunt.” Abrupt anxiety stiffened her muscles. When she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. “You need to let me go. Now.” He made no move to obey. “You misunderstand me.” A small sound hitched in the back of her throat. It could have been a guffaw or a tiny sob. “You just admitted you kill people. Don’t you think that’s cause for concern?” “No,” he countered, though he wasn’t sure why. She’d believe whatever she wanted to about him. Humans always did. “I don’t kill people. Or harm them, for that matter. I hunt game. Rabbits, deer, river otter when I can find them.” “Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. He waited a heartbeat before speaking again. “Have you jumped to any other conclusions I should dispel?” She shifted in his arms, but didn’t turn to look at him. “Well, you’re in my house. Explain that one, hot shot.” “Hot shot?” he echoed. “I— Wait.” Her revelation came close to knocking some sense back into his head. “That can’t be true.”

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“Whether you like it or not, I own this place.” She lifted her chin a notch, though she still made no attempt to turn her head and look him in the eye. “My name’s on the deed. Which means you’re trespassing.” “Impossible. I met the man who owns this cottage. Tall with short graying hair and a stylish suit. He appeared pained to even be here. Look, I signed a lease. I have every right to this cottage.” Her soft curves turned to steel in his arms as every muscle in her body tensed. “Emmett,” she whispered. “That son of a bitch had no right to lease my house!” Devlin chose his words carefully. “I’ve lived here for two years. This may be your house, but it’s my home.” She twisted away, jerked her legs out from underneath his and swung around to face him. Her palms gripped his upper thighs as she leaned in, much too close to his aching sac. “Two years? The bastard’s been making money off this place for two years and he never told me?” Her mouth was a thin slash of disapproval. Devlin could practically see the thoughts whirling through her head before her features softened. “Wait…you’ve lived…here? Why?” It was his turn to shrug as he struggled to focus on something other than the fact her fingertips nestled close to the crease where his leg met groin. Trying to explain would only complicate matters. She’d never understand the rules of his pack, the life he’d led—the existence he’d left behind. Or, for that matter, the enemies he’d made. “It’s safe here,” he said at last. “Far away from others.” Her gaze softened. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and tilted her head. A ray of early morning sunshine danced across her cheekbones, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes, the lines of grief and worry etched on her forehead. Why had he not noticed those things before? The hurt he glimpsed in her eyes would have melted his feet right out from under him if he’d been standing. Suddenly the urge to preserve the place that had become his 30

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home reshaped itself, transforming into something else entirely—the need to protect and defend her. Before he could make sense of the unique jumble of emotions tightening his chest, she clasped her hands in her lap and locked her fingers together so hard her knuckles turned white. Long lashes hid her eyes as her gaze drifted down. “That’s why I came too.”

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Chapter Three Men rarely say what they mean. If you want to know the truth about what they’re thinking, you have to approach the task in a creative manner. Never ask outright whether your butt looks fat in a particular pair of jeans. He’ll get that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look and refuse to answer you. Or worse, he’ll mumble something about how beautiful you are, all the while glancing toward the door like an inmate who just realized the guard left the cell gate open. Instead, take a lesson from male behavior. If they want to get you into bed, they’ll never come right out and say it. They’ll wine and dine you, seduce you, make you forget your own name. And then they’ll just take what they want because you’ll be in no position to resist. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

Ava’s mind swam in a sea of confusion. She felt lightheaded and vulnerable, the feelings at complete odds with what she’d expected to experience as she tackled her first day of true freedom. When the final divorce papers were delivered to her hotel room almost forty-eight hours earlier, she’d been elated. This was her chance to make a new start for herself. She’d finally break away from being Mrs. Emmett McLaughlin. She’d rediscover who Ava Atwood used to be before she shackled herself to a husband whose interest in her had disappeared the moment he slipped the wedding band on her finger. As long as Ava was there to entertain Emmett’s important friends, throw lavish gettogethers, cook his meals and provide everything he craved in bed—which frankly wasn’t much—he didn’t give a damn how she felt about any of it. Having a real reason to file for divorce had been a relief. When she pulled out from the driveway the day she’d found her husband screwing the blonde bimbo whose name she’d never cared to learn, Ava had left everything behind. Even the bags of groceries 32

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purchased for that night’s party lay forgotten on the front steps of the house she’d lived in for over twenty years, their contents spilling down the front steps. Independence had been a scary prospect, even though she welcomed the endless possibilities it offered. During the six months it took for the divorce to be finalized, Ava had given herself time to adjust to her new situation. She hadn’t felt emotionally ready to start over until the paperwork was complete, so she’d paid for a suite in a downtown hotel using the money she’d set aside over the years from the proceeds of her newspaper column and her bestselling book. Emmett hadn’t known about her alter ego until the divorce proceedings. He’d made her sign a pre-nuptial agreement when they’d wed, and he’d assumed she’d walk away from their marriage with nothing but what little her parents had left her when they’d passed away. Remembering the shocked look on Emmett’s face as he listened to her lawyer disclose her income brought a slight smile to her lips even now. “Beautiful.” Ava jerked her head up. Her gaze collided with Devlin’s and a shot of pure arousal spiraled through her body. The foreign sensation settled low in her belly, thrumming with pent-up need. “What is?” she struggled to ask through trembling lips as she fought to pull herself together. She needed to keep her wits about her. She was treading into entirely uncharted territory. For the past six years, she’d been pretending to be an expert on male-female relationships, when in fact she didn’t know a thing about them. Not first-hand anyway. All her knowledge—such as it was—had come from secondary sources. She’d begun dating Emmett her first year of college. He’d been older, and his stable lifestyle had instantly appealed to her. She’d thought him confident and handsome, a beacon of reliability in a frantic world in which she’d never felt as though she belonged. 33

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He’d offered her a lifetime of luxury. As the CEO of a multi-million dollar cosmetics company, he’d swept her off her feet and into an exotic, larger-than-life milieu. What nineteen-year-old girl in her right mind wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to become Mrs. McLaughlin? “Your smile,” Devlin said without a trace of mockery. “It transforms your face. I want to see you do it more often.” A brief chuckle slipped past Ava’s lips, sneaking through every barrier she’d managed to erect against this charismatic, mysterious man. Admittedly, her defenses were weak enough to collapse if he so much as breathed on them. She hadn’t had much practice building those either. She was much too vulnerable for the likes of a man like Devlin No-Last-Name. She’d have a hard enough time talking to him if he was fully clothed. In his current state of comfortable nudity, he made it impossible for her to concentrate. Strangest of all was the fact she wasn’t either intimidated or repelled by his aggressiveness. Something about the unperturbed, self-assured ease with which he handled himself served to soothe her frazzled nerves. Even his touch had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Gentle and erotic, it seemed to measure and weigh every part of her. Even those parts he couldn’t see. Despite every ounce of common sense she possessed, her nerve endings tingled in anticipation, craving more. Ava ran a hand through her damp locks. “You do, do you?” “Yes,” he said simply. “What else do you want?” She’d meant the question to come out mocking, hoping to put him off. To her horror, her husky voice imbued the words with a sultry, inviting subtext. God, what had gotten into her? She’d never been this forward. Not that she’d ever had the opportunity to be. Perhaps if she hadn’t met Emmett, had dated more… Maybe

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she would have turned into a sexy metropolitan goddess, someone more akin to one of the women from Sex and the City than Martha Stewart or Dear Abby. That train of thought sent her mind reeling. So many missed opportunities. So much wasted time. What else didn’t she know about herself? Devlin reached out and grazed her chin with his fingertips. He lifted her face so she’d be forced to look into his eyes. Her heartbeat hammered, drowning out the sound of the soft rain pattering against the window. “I want to see your face light up with that beautiful smile when I fill you with my cock.” Ava’s mouth went dry. She forced a small laugh, but Devlin’s expression didn’t change. He gazed into her eyes with an intensity that made her quiver from head to toe. Oh God. He means it. He means every word. No beating around the bush. No candlelit seduction and an endless string of games. Just pure, unabashed honesty. She had no idea what to do with that. Games were simple. Predictable. Heck, she’d written a book on playing the mating game in today’s insane world. Blunt, naked honesty was something she knew nothing about. Her eyelids drifted closed. Somewhere between slamming the door to her car and entering the cottage she’d taken a wrong turn and stumbled into a dream. She couldn’t make sense of anything that happened since she’d stepped through the front door. Between a wolf that didn’t exist and a naked man who stripped her of every ounce of self-control she possessed, her fake but conventional little world had been turned upside down. She opened her eyes, half expecting him to have disappeared, just like the wolf. If they’d both been a figment of her imagination, she could blame everything on the stress of her divorce messing with her mind. No such luck.

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Devlin was still there. His thumb stroked a path along the side of her jaw, the caress drifting down the column of her throat. “You want that too, don’t you?” he whispered. His breath tickled her lips. He held her gaze, challenging her to look away, to deny the truth of his words. “I…” She swallowed hard. Her pussy throbbed and her nipples pebbled, signaling his touch had incited a slew of overwhelming and conflicting emotions inside her. “You do.” Devlin’s hand slipped down over her collarbone to her breast. He cupped the right mound in his palm, drawing a strangled gasp from her throat. “I can smell the heat rising from between your legs.” She giggled again, like a silly schoolgirl, before slamming her mouth shut. He’d somehow managed to turn her from a forty-year-old divorcée into a virginal, embarrassed teenager with one touch and a few whispered words! She was too emotionally vulnerable for this. And he…well, he was much too direct. Since meeting Emmett, she’d grown used to sophisticated means of persuasion and suave invitations. Devlin delivered neither. Instead, he offered primal temptation with a dollop of earthy allure that both fascinated and disarmed her. Ava shook her head slightly, banishing that line of thought. She didn’t want to recall anything her ex-husband did during their ill-advised courtship. Not now. Not ever again. Besides, Devlin was making stuff up. She did not smell! She’d dressed in clean panties and jeans this morning. Sure, she was so turned-on she could feel her cream slicking the cotton surface of her underwear’s crotch area, but she couldn’t smell a thing. And neither, she was certain, could he. “That’s ridiculous.” She summoned her most maternal, condescending tone, hoping he’d get the message. Because God help her, she wasn’t strong enough to move away. She had to make him pull back and break this invisible blast of sexual energy that hummed between them.

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His expression didn’t change. He continued to assess her with that wild intensity, as though trying to look right through her and summon her deepest, darkest secrets from the recesses of her numbed heart. “Yes. Just as ridiculous as wolves sleeping in your bed.” Ava’s eyes widened. Was he mocking her? “Listen here. I—” He silenced her with a kiss. A thorough, bone-melting, panty-drenching kiss that had her clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His tongue delved inside her mouth, sweeping over hers as his fingers kneaded her breasts with soft, gentle strokes. When his fingertips dipped into the opening between two buttons and stroked her flesh instead of her damp blouse, she moaned inside his mouth. Arching her back, she urged him on. He fumbled with the buttons, taking much too long to release her breasts from the constraint of all that fabric. She wanted all those barriers between them gone. Now. He could have pulled away to concentrate on disrobing her, but he didn’t. Through it all, he continued to kiss her as though the world would end if he stopped. God, she’d never been kissed that way in her life. Never. Until now she’d had no idea what she’d been missing. She hadn’t known what the women who wrote to The Diva meant when they claimed a man’s kiss could make them lose their minds—and their inhibitions. She hadn’t understood then. She’d thought them weak at best—stupid at worst. Now with this stranger’s tongue in her mouth and his hands on her breasts, she understood all too well. At last he had the final button undone and pushed the fabric back over Ava’s shoulders. She shrugged out of the shirt, her nipples grazing his chest through the thin material of her bra. He pulled away, his breathing as ragged as her own. “I don’t understand the need to cover up so much. Take it off.” His fingertips slipped beneath the edge of the bra. “Please.”

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She nodded, helpless to do anything else. Most men would have removed the damn contraption themselves, but Devlin seemed content to hold the heavy underside of her breasts in his palms as she unhooked the clasp behind her back. The material fell forward in his hands and he tossed it to the floor. His thumbs skidded over her nipples, circling them until they formed stiff little nubs. He gripped each one between thumb and forefinger, pinched lightly then drew them toward him. “Oh.” More a whimper than a word, the sound carried through the room, seeming to amplify as he continued to tweak, nip and squeeze the tender buds. Her spine arched and her breasts quivered from the pressure of his insistent fingers. When he released her nipples, it was only so he could replace the sensation of pleasure and pain with the feel of his mouth. Softly, he suckled first one nipple then the other, sending myriad jolts of desire straight to the apex of her thighs. Ava pressed her legs together. For the first time in her life, she found herself at a loss for words. She couldn’t even think in coherent sentences. Her entire world had closed in around her, her very existence becoming intricately linked to every motion of Devlin’s lips, to the feel of his tongue scraping across each nipple. Her labia throbbed hot and heavy. The tingling in her clit spread outward and she became increasingly aware of the feel of her cream slicking her folds and yes—damn him!—of the unmistakable scent of her arousal wafting through the air. She needed to touch him, to anchor herself and ensure he was real. Her hands skimmed the sides of his rib cage, his flat stomach, then up higher until she could splay her palms across the muscled ridge of his chest. A dusting of soft, dark hair welcomed her fingers. He looked up, his lips glistening just like the stiff peak of her nipple. “You taste good.”

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Such a simple compliment. No lengthy attempt at romance, no false flattery and honeyed phrases. Just a plain statement delivered with the same painful honesty that tore a little at her heart as she breathed it in. Ava circled one of his flat male nipples with the tip of her index finger. “You surprise me, Devlin. I haven’t been surprised in a long time. Not in a good way, at least,” she added with a sad smile. His hands skimmed down the front of her body until he gripped her hips and ran his thumb across the patch of bare skin just above the waistband of her jeans. He flicked the top button open quickly and lowered the zipper. “You enjoy surprises?” he asked, tugging on the fabric of her jeans. “Very much.” She lifted herself off the mattress to make his task easier. The jeans slid down her legs and bunched around her ankles. He took his time, pulling them off with infinite patience. When he was done, he ran his palms up her legs all the way to her hip bones. While forcing herself to hold still, she was absurdly grateful she’d taken the time to shave that morning. The skin of her legs was as smooth as her pussy, a fact he’d no doubt discover for himself soon enough. “The females of my pack don’t like surprises. They prefer to be in control.” Pack? The word had an animalistic quality to it, but she had no idea how it applied to a grown man. “Did you grow up in Boonville?” He shook his head. “I grew up in the mountains, but not anywhere near here.” Caught off guard, she gaped at him. “The mountains,” she repeated. No wonder he seemed so out of touch with modern courtship rituals. The man was a genuine recluse. Next he was going to tell her he’d been raised by wolves. “Have you ever been to Yellowstone?” 39

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She relaxed a fraction. There were plenty of small towns near Yellowstone. He must have been raised in one of them. “No, but I once read a National Geographic article on wildlife in the area.” He grinned. “I bet I know more about that subject than everyone at National Geographic put together.” “You have an interest in animals?” That would explain why he chose to live in this remote region. He could study plenty of fauna in its natural environment this close to the mountainside. His gaze bore into hers. “A close, personal interest.” Something about the way he said that caused a maelstrom of confusion to rise inside her. She offered a shaky smile, wondering if it was too late to back away slowly and leave the way she came. When he cupped his hand over her panty-covered pussy and pressed his middle finger between her folds, she knew she had her answer. Electricity zinged through her. Her sex ached and quivered. Lust stripped her of the remaining shreds of self-doubt, replacing them with wonder and genuine arousal. Recluse or not, the man awoke sensations in her no one else had ever been able to summon. Not even her, and she’d tried to explore her sexuality countless times in the privacy of her bedroom when her ex-husband wasn’t around. The various orgasms she’d managed to achieve had been pleasant enough, but they left her oddly dissatisfied. She’d never been able to figure out what all the fuss was about. Emmett had referred to her as frigid once when he hadn’t known she’d been listening. Hurt, she’d struggled to double her efforts to please him in the bedroom, all the while fearing he was right. After all, sex was sex. There was no great mystery to it. The parts fit together and came apart. There was only so much she could do.

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Yet in her columns, she’d chosen to advise Divas to never fake an orgasm. Perhaps there really were men out there who could please a woman and bring her to the height of real ecstasy. Not that she’d ever really believed that herself, but she figured giving hope to young women was better than shattering their sexual dreams before they even really began. As for her, well, Ava had never been a Diva. She’d faked her release from the first erotic encounter with her future husband. Twenty-one years of marriage and he hadn’t clued in to her deception. Besides, that little lie was just one more thing that kept the peace in their marriage. Ironically, she’d always figured keeping the peace meant having a happy marriage. No arguments, no divorce. Simple, right? She might have laughed at that if Devlin hadn’t chosen that exact moment to slip his fingers beneath her panties. The chuckle died in her throat. “Part your legs.” He made no attempt to remove her underwear. She did as he commanded, widening the spread of her thighs and lifting her knees off the bed. Devlin positioned himself on the mattress, his head flush with her mound. He pushed her panties to the side, baring the swell of her labia. A shiver ran through her. She felt so open, so wanton! So unlike the Mrs. McLaughlin who’d baked tiered cakes and listened politely as old men talked about their investment portfolios. She let herself fall back onto the bed. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined her pussy could be the center of a gorgeous man’s rapt attention. The realization that he could do anything he wanted to her at that moment sent a shock of adrenaline through her veins. Her head came up and she steadied herself on her elbows, watching him.

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Devlin lifted his head and met her gaze. His thumb traveled slowly down the outside of her nether lips. “Relax.” She forced a smile onto her features. “Right.” If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it. Instead, he slipped his forefinger between her slick lips and ran it down the length of her slit. The sensation was so intense Ava nearly jumped out of her skin. She lifted her pelvis, angling it toward him. Her inner walls clenched in anticipation of wrapping around a solid, thick intrusion. He circled the entrance to her pussy, all the while peering down at her cunt. Lines of concentration appeared over the bridge of his nose, making it seem as though he gave every last ounce of his attention over to the task at hand. Thinking about it boggled Ava’s mind. She’d never known a man not to be preoccupied with work or think about sports scores as he attempted to pleasure her, all the while working toward the only conclusion he cared about—his own climax. Then again, considering she’d only ever made love to one man in her entire life, she didn’t have much to draw upon for the purposes of a fair comparison. Devlin’s fingers glided over her sensitive folds. He paused at her clit, drawing his thumb down gently over the hooded bud and sending a spasm of pure bliss to lodge deep in her pussy. Ava’s cunt reacted with more force than she’d ever experienced. Her inner walls tensed and a fresh wave of cream dripped down her channel to seep from the entrance. Maddeningly, Devlin took his time. It was as though he’d decided to take her on a deliberate journey. A journey of discovery—one Ava should have undertaken long ago. Heat rolled through her veins, lighting a blazing path just beneath her skin. Devlin lowered his head and positioned his forefinger just at the tip of her opening. His tongue swept out and stroked the length of her slit in one languid swipe.

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The sensation turned her limbs to gelatin. She collapsed back onto the bed, well aware she’d lost every bit of control she’d ever possessed over this encounter. She didn’t know how he’d done it. No other man could have stripped her of her clothes and inhibitions with so much speedy finesse. Yet there was something about Devlin that made it clear he wasn’t like any other man. And it wasn’t just the recluse thing that nagged at her. There was something primal and authoritative about him. Something…animalistic. There was that word again. It made no sense, and yet it did. Fighting to keep a clear head wouldn’t work, so she vowed to revisit this train of thought later. When Devlin’s lips weren’t clamped around one of her folds, drawing the delicate flesh between his teeth. Twin sensations of pain and pleasure flowed through her, conflicting and complimenting every nibble. Devlin sucked, licked and bit down on her tender skin, eliciting a stream of pure erotic delight from each maneuver. When his finger slipped inside her, she cried out. Her pussy clamped down, possessive and insistent. She’d expected him to chuckle. It would have been a purely masculine response born of ego and pride. He did neither. Instead, he released her labia and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the area surrounding her clit. “You taste as good as you smell,” he murmured. The simple compliment made a sob lodge in her throat. She fought back the tears that stung her eyes, but they came anyway, dripping down over her lash line with wild abandon. She wiped at them furiously, fearing he’d stop if he thought he was hurting her. Unnervingly, he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

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He added a second finger alongside the first. The twin digits slipped inside her on a light, feathery glide, stroking the sensitive tissue and drawing a ragged gasp from her throat. He thrust in and out while his tongue moved back and forth across her slit, paying particular attention to her swollen clit yet never applying direct pressure to the aching nub. She lost herself to the deliciousness of it, gave herself over to him. Her mind emptied of all thoughts, all doubts and confusion. At that exact moment, he had her pussy, her body, her soul. Everything about her was his for the taking. And he took it. Clamping his mouth around her clit, he sucked gently, drawing a stream of sensation straight into the tender bud. At the same time, his fingers delved deep inside her and curled, coming into contact with a spot usually ignored. A blast of sheer pleasure careened through her body and flooded her veins with wildfire. Ava shattered on a savage cry. Her body rocked, every muscle tensing and loosening in rapid sequence. A flash of lightning struck her pussy, rocketing a neverending cascade of raw ecstasy into her veins. The tears fell harder. They clogged her throat and ran in rivulets down her cheeks, her throat, flooding the valley between her breasts. Her thighs clamped around Devlin’s head. She held him to her, so close that in a brief moment of lucidity she feared she’d stifle him. He continued to tug on her clit, feasting on her pussy, finger-fucking her with a combination of fierceness and gentleness that knocked the air from her lungs. She didn’t know how long she rode that orgasmic crest. It might have been mere seconds or entire minutes. It felt as if Devlin had somehow opened the floodgates, taking her along on a ride that lasted nowhere near long enough.

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She craved more with a vicious desperation that scared her to the marrow of her bones. That deep, wretched craving more than anything else knocked her back to reality. Devlin rose to his knees. He gripped his cock and stroked it from root to tip, spreading a glistening bead of pre-cum over the velvety length. Her pussy answered with another deep-muscle clench. He positioned the tip at the entrance of her cunt. Before she could rock her hips and take him inside in one smooth glide, sanity prevailed. She shoved at his chest and scooted backward on the bed. “Condom,” she managed to rasp. The word came out as a croak through her tear-coated throat. Devlin frowned. “What?” “I don’t have a condom.” He gave his cock another languid stroke while watching her. The image was so erotic it sent another wave of need to flood her core. “You’re not taking oral contraceptives?” He moved toward her with the predatory glide of a panther. At the last moment, using every ounce of willpower she hadn’t known she possessed, Ava scooted out from under him. Her feet hit the floor. “Would you believe me if I said I was?” “Would you lie to me?” His voice was hypnotic. It nearly sent her scurrying back to the smoldering warmth of his arms. Instead, she reached for her discarded bra because, no, damn it—she wasn’t on the Pill. Dating had seemed too far out of the realm of possibility that preparing for such an encounter hadn’t entered her mind. Her jeans lay on the other side of the bed so she rose and scooted around to grab them. With every step, rational thought careened back into her brain and whatever sexual pull he’d had on her faded just enough to allow clarity to infuse her thoughts.

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“They sell condoms in Boonville. I’m going,” she declared. Knowing that looking back could prove detrimental to the self-control she’d only just discovered, Ava bolted from the room. She yanked on her jeans haphazardly in mid-flight, did a lousy job hooking her bra and shoved her arms into the sleeves of her shirt. At the door, she paused just long enough to step into her shoes while grabbing her clutch purse and keys from the cardboard box. She didn’t even think about buttoning her blouse until she was safely behind the wheel of the Miata, burning rubber down the highway leading into town.

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Chapter Four Rejection is never what it seems. Of course it feels rotten to have the object of your desire turn his back on you, but trust me when I tell you it’s not as simple as men make it appear. If you’re certain you want to be with this man, then it’s up to you to demand that he stand up and pay attention. It’s up to you to ensure he notices when you walk into a room and knows what it is you want when you graze his outer thigh with your knee. Rejection only means you’re not trying hard enough. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

“Nice and easy now…you’re going to take me to your boss,” Nicoló said as he secured the man’s hands in front of him with a length of rope. He didn’t need cuffs. His constrictor knots were impossible to untie. And besides, cuffs were for cops, not renegade bounty hunters. The man spat at his feet. A minor dealer as far as Buffalo’s drug cartel pecking order went, Vinny was still the only lead Nico had to finding Alonso Astaire, who’d been as elusive to capture as a ghost. A bruise had already begun to form over Vinny’s right eye and a trickle of blood glistened at the base of one nostril. “Fuck you.” Nico shrugged and drove the heel of his right hand into the man’s jaw. His head snapped back and slammed against the brick wall of the alley. “Wrong answer, asshole.” The man grunted something unintelligible as the blood dripping from his nose grew to a steady trickle. It probably hurt like hell, which gave Nico no small amount of satisfaction. This guy needed to be locked up, but not before he led him to Alonso.

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“Let’s try this again.” Nico kept his tone amiable. No sense antagonizing Vinny any more than he’d already had. “I know you had a delivery to pick up this afternoon. Where is it?” He shouldn’t have had to ask. If he’d done his job properly, he’d have followed Vinny without the other man ever knowing he was being tailed. It would have worked too. No one was better at tailing prey than Nico. That is, if he hadn’t been momentarily distracted by the frantic slam of need and desperation pounding at his chest, catching him off guard and causing him to ram into a metal trash can. The overwhelming rush of emotions hadn’t risen from him. And there was only one other being in the entire world whose feelings he could sense. He couldn’t afford any more distractions, so he’d focused on Vinny and ignored everything else. Including the twisting feeling in his gut that told him Cheyenne needed him. He’d made the mistake of thinking that once before. He wouldn’t make it again. “A warehouse on Elmwood,” Vinny wheezed between gasps. Nico shook his head. “I’ve been there. It’s empty.” A shifting movement from his left caught his attention. He angled his head a fraction of an inch, just long enough to catch a glimpse of flowing brown hair, glistening eyes, a wide mouth almost too large for such a delicate face. Desire smacked into him with the force of a speeding train. It knocked the air from his lungs, weakened his knees and made him loosen his grasp on his prisoner. Vinny didn’t waste his opportunity. The man took a step forward, leading with his body weight, and slammed the top of his head against Nico’s jaw, sending them both stumbling backward. The rain-filled clouds that had been hovering overhead chose that moment to crack open. Water poured in a sheet, dampening the alley. The scent of rotten garbage intensified.

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Nico grabbed Vinny’s elbow. The man flailed and kicked, his toe connecting with Nico’s shin. He stumbled, pulling Vinny down with him, and landed on something hard that tore into his ribs, sending a bolt of pain up his left side and into his shoulder. Another flash of dark hair. The frantic beating of a heart not his own. The taste of fear flooded his mouth, but it wasn’t his. Not mine. She— “Back! Stay back!” Nico shouted. Too late. Vinny had already sprung to his feet, and seeing another way to evade his hunter, he lunged for Cheyenne, leading with his bound hands. She side-stepped him at the last moment, but the blow still glanced off her cheek. At the sound of bone cracking, adrenaline pumped through Nico’s bloodstream. He didn’t remember rising, but he was there, beside Vinny, grabbing the other man as he turned to run. They twisted together, dodging blows, Nico moving slower than usual. Rain soaked him to the bone, blending with the thicker stream of wetness running down his side. Water dripped into his eyes, making it hard to see. He blocked Vinny’s clumsy attempt at punching with both hands tied and blinked to clear his vision. Another moment’s distraction was all Vinny needed. This time, he didn’t try to fight. His footsteps sloshed in the amassing pools of rainwater as he took off for the mouth of the alley. Any other day, Nico would have given chase. He’d have run after the man until he could run no more. He’d collapse from exhaustion before letting his prey get away. But this was no ordinary day. The woman standing two feet away and wrecking havoc on his emotions told him as much. She stood as still as a statue, cradling her bruised cheek. It wasn’t broken. The sound he’d heard must have come from Vinny’s knuckles. He could feel it, knew the

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truth of it as well as he knew the gravity of his own wound. Both could have been much worse. Nico’s fists tightened at his sides. Two years had passed, and yet looking at her now he remembered everything. The way she smelled, like wet earth and wildflowers. The way she touched him with a featherlight stroke that betrayed the harshness of her demands or her rough, controlling demeanor. And he remembered her words the day he left the pack. Don’t come back, Nico. It’s Devlin I want. “Why are you here?” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the roar of the rain. She shivered, obviously cold in an ill-fitting summery dress that clearly didn’t belong to her. She’d likely grabbed it on the way from a neglected clothesline where it had been hung to dry. The pack didn’t bother with human-made clothes. They crafted animal-skin leggings and loin-cloths for the men and deer-skin tunics for the women. When they chose to wear anything at all, which wasn’t often. “To call on you as your ruling pack leader.” She held her head high, her chin tilted up at an angle. Rain plastered long hair to her head. Between the dark tresses framing her face and the bruise rapidly forming on her cheek, the golden gloss of her tan skin appeared even more striking. Nico sighed. He knew that look. Despite the bonds that bound them, the ones she was determined to ignore, she always fell back on the training she’d been given from birth. He could say one thing for the cruel witch who ran the pack before Cheyenne— she always got what she wanted. Do not interfere. Every wolf has a right to chose. Ha! The pack motto had been of no concern to Portia, who did nothing but interfere and make choices for others her entire life. If she hadn’t… He swallowed hard and pushed that thought away. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the past. “I’m no longer part of your pack.” 50

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She marched toward him, eyes narrowed. She carried herself with the grace of a queen and the feral anger of a warrior ready for battle. Only the flashes of distress and fear that percolated inside her and floated on to him through the faint strand that bound them told him she wasn’t anywhere close to being as confident as she looked. And how could she be? She’d walked into unfamiliar territory. The violence wouldn’t have scared her—she was used to it. Except in their pack, physical conflicts only ever happened in wolf form. Human bodies were too easy to break. “The only reason you’re not part of my pack is because I released you. I command you to return.” God, this felt familiar. They’d played this game before, too many times. That’s what it had been in the past…a game. One they used to break down barriers before taking things further, one tiny step at a time. If not for Chey’s “delayed gratification” theory, they’d have been mated long ago. They already were, partially. They’d given their hearts and souls to one another at a time when they still thought love could conquer all. Even pack morals, social expectations and leaders, or parents, or both. If they’d given each other their bodies as well, nothing could have kept them apart. Not even Portia. But that hadn’t happened, and on the night of the Matriarch Trials, Cheyenne had made her choice. Ironic then that Devlin hadn’t wanted her. That both he and Nico had left the pack that night for very different reasons all having to do with one stubborn woman. Rain ran down Chey’s exposed chest and into the valley between her breasts. Her nipples pebbled, straining against the fabric of her soaked dress. The material barely covered her areolas. He could make out the tip of one, dark and smooth, inviting him to bend his head down for a taste. For old time’s sake.

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His cock lurched in his jeans, pressing against the seam. He knew all of her tricks, every one of her deliberate seductive moves. He’d have bet anything she’d chosen that dress on purpose. No. No. No. No. God, how he wanted to say no. He needed to say no. But curiosity and the permanent imprint of her soul on his somehow managed to convince him otherwise. “What do you need?”

***** It was dark by the time Ava returned to the cottage. The rain had stopped sometime in the afternoon, leaving behind the damp scent of wet earth and puddles deep enough to soak through Ava’s city shoes if she stepped in one. She’d only done that once since leaving the cottage and she had a damp sock to prove it. Peering through the windshield, she gaped at the single light bulb shining bright above the front door. It swung from a cord in the slight breeze, scattering a radiant pool of light across the wooden porch and the front steps. The windows were dark, giving no indication as to whether anyone waited within. With trembling fingers, Ava twisted the ignition key and cut the engine. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. During the course of the day, she’d almost grown used to the sensation of her pulse racing, her palms sweating, her stomach tightening in knots every time she thought of coming back here. And yet, none of that had been enough to keep her away. If anything, the strange sensations swirling through her bloodstream only urged her to return. The cabin called to her. He called to her. The time she’d spent in town hadn’t offered much comfort. In a place as small as Boonville, everyone knew everyone else and the villagers were more than happy to swap stories with her.

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She’d quickly learned that the electricity and heat in the cottage were both in good working order, thanks to Devlin. The villagers assured her he’d been renting the place while the owners were away. Ha! Her blood still boiled when she thought of Emmett’s deception. But since Devlin had been paying the bills and there’d been no complaints, there was no reason to be concerned. Of course, a lease signed by a man with only one name couldn’t possibly stand up under scrutiny. Which meant that either Devlin had been lying to her—because really, who didn’t have a last name in this day and age?—or he’d faked a surname for the paperwork. Either way, she was fairly certain she could contest his claim to her property. If she wanted to. Right now, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Everyone in Boonville knew Devlin. More important still was that they genuinely liked him. He’d strolled into town two years ago and had quickly gained a reputation as the man to go to if a job needed to be done right. Her myriad questions about him were answered with genuine smiles and a torrential downpour of stories from people he’d helped over the years. Ava’s hand drifted to the door handle. She remembered the glow in the old lumberjack’s rheumy eyes as he told her of the way Devlin filled in for him on short notice while he’d recovered from emergency surgery. Without Devlin, the man wouldn’t have been able to keep his job. Then there’d been the old lady who’d raved about his ability to deliver everything from groceries to a new television without a word of complaint, and the roofer who’d praised his work ethic and willingness to climb on slick shingles in the rain without a moment’s trepidation. Fearless, diligent, earnest and kind. Those were just some of the words she’d heard used to refer to Devlin over the course of the day. After spending the morning with him, she had a few more adjectives of her own to add to that list.

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Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one. Most of the single women she’d spoken with—and some of the married ones—had commented on Devlin’s brooding eyes, sinewy muscles, the body that looked tailor-made for physical labor. Ava hadn’t missed their overt interest, nor their disappointment. It seemed Devlin hadn’t been overly receptive to their sultry invitations. Despite her best efforts at remaining detached, a zing of relief and satisfaction had rushed through her. So he didn’t pounce on every woman in sight the way he’d done to her that morning. Yet it seemed odd that a man in his prime chose to live like a hermit instead of carving notches in his bedpost. Her bedpost rather, since he didn’t seem to have one of his own. Strangely enough, no one could tell her anything at all about his personal life. There’d been no mention of a wife or girlfriend. No talk of parents or brothers. And when she’d mentioned the word “pack”, the villager she’d been speaking with went on a rambling tirade about wolf sightings. In New York of all places. She’d have laughed if he didn’t seem so taken with his theory, or even if he’d been the only one to mention the wild notion. He hadn’t. Other villagers claimed to have sighted the beasts. Still, what all that had to do with Devlin she couldn’t begin to fathom. An image of the wolf sleeping in her bed flittered across the surface of her thoughts. She’d imagined that implausible sight, though. Devlin had proven there’d been no creature in the room—no intruder except for him. Though she’d learned a lot about her enigmatic house guest, plenty of mysteries continued to surround him. The day’s events had done wonders for putting Ava’s doubts to rest. Her cottage hadn’t been taken over by a mass murderer. The villagers confirmed he was a recluse, but was that really such a bad thing?

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Still, she’d have to be careful around him. He had the uncanny ability to turn her emotions upside down. She didn’t trust herself near him. But neither was she willing to toss him out on his very sexy behind. A smile touched her lips. The gossipmongers in Manhattan would have weeks’ worth of stories to embellish if they learned the former Mrs. McLaughlin had shacked up with a younger man on her first night as a divorced woman. Only, of course, they’d never find out. She’d go inside and tell Devlin he had to find a new place to live—pronto. With any luck, he’d be wearing clothes this time. That would make it much easier to have a rational discussion without worrying about leaping into his arms if he so much as came within ten feet of her. The gradual stream of determination building in her gut had done little to ease the uncertainty flowing through her veins. Every nerve ending seemed on alert. Reckless need rolled through her, reminding her that just that morning Devlin had brought her to the most intense orgasm of her life with his mouth and fingers. God, what would happen if she got anywhere near that thick, beautiful cock? Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Ava flicked the handle inward. The door swung open with a click. She had bags of groceries in the trunk of the car along with the suitcase she hadn’t yet brought in. After a moment’s deliberation, she decided to enlist Devlin’s help with carrying everything inside. Mud sluiced under her shoes as she made her way to the door. Light from the dangling bulb lit the way up the front steps like a beacon, but the edges of the porch remained shrouded in impenetrable shadows. She didn’t see the wolf until it was too late. The touch of the creature’s cold nose against the back of her hand startled her so profoundly that she cried out, leapt up and flattened herself against the door. Pure ice chilled her veins. Her knees wobbled and her heart threatened to beat through her chest. 55

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The wolf rumbled, the noise coming from somewhere deep in its throat. It didn’t sound like a warning or a threat, but what did she know? Oh God, the villagers had been right. There were wolves here. In New York. On her front porch. In her cottage. Her hands trembled as she brought them up in front of her. “See? I can’t hurt you.” The animal sat on its haunches, so close its front paw grazed the tip of her muddy shoe. Its tail wagged from side to side. The white streak of fur on its forehead looked familiar, as did the way the animal watched her with startling blue eyes, its gaze seeming to bore right into her soul. A shiver stole up her spine. She’d been looked at that way before, when she’d imagined startling this same creature out of sleep. And again when Devlin had seemed intent on possessing her, body and soul. “Don’t be stupid, Ava,” she muttered under her breath. Devlin obviously had a pet wolf. He hadn’t admitted it because he hadn’t wanted to frighten her. Or maybe he’d feared she’d throw them both out of the cottage if he confessed to keeping such a powerful, dangerous creature in close quarters. The rush of adrenaline began to subside. Fear still seeped in her veins, but it was a cautious, vigilant kind of unease rather than the mind-numbing terror that had struck when she’d recognized the wolf for what it was. “Hey there,” she murmured, silently congratulating herself for being able to speak at all. Her left hand skimmed the length of the door behind her back, in search of the handle. “If you’re Devlin’s, then you’re friendly, right? You have no interest in eating me.” I hope. The wolf emitted a noise that sounded like a soft whimper. It leaned forward, ducking its head. For a moment Ava’s heart stopped beating.

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When the creature nudged her hip with the top of its head, the contact kick-started Ava’s heartbeat. The gesture was friendly, akin to something she’d seen the dog she’d had as a child do upon meeting a stranger who seemed non-threatening. Moving slowly as not to startle it, Ava lowered her hand to its head. The black fur felt soft beneath her fingers. Another low murmur from the wolf’s throat encouraged her, and she scratched behind its ears. When it lifted its head and bared its teeth, she jerked her hand back. “Okay, big boy. That’s enough excitement for one evening.” She angled her head in the direction of the door behind her. “I’m going inside.” As though it understood, the wolf moved back a couple of steps. Then it waited, watching her with those intelligent sapphire eyes. What she saw in its gaze surprised her. Confidence without arrogance. Strength without a shred of fear. And above all, an unmistakable openness. She had the distinct impression the wolf could be trusted with anything—including her life. Tension stiffened every one of her muscles. Unexplained feelings wouldn’t keep her safe. Unwilling to turn her back on the beast, she managed to hook her index and middle fingers around the door handle and pressed down. To her surprise, nothing happened. “Shit,” she muttered between clenched teeth, pasting a forced, nonchalant smile onto her features. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn the wolf arched a non-existent eyebrow. By the time she managed to dig out her keys, slip them in the lock and push the door open—all without turning her back on the creature—she’d worked up a sweat that coated her temples and upper lip. Through it all, the wolf watched her with something akin to amusement.

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Clearly the day’s excitement had gone to her head. The wolf wasn’t amused. It couldn’t be. If anything, it was probably just curious about her strange habits. She was certain Devlin never hesitated when walking inside the cottage. Letting her hand glide along the interior wall, she flicked on the light switch, illuminating the entryway and living room area. As she did so, the wolf stood and bolted past her into the cottage. For a moment Ava simply stood transfixed, gazing at the spot where the creature had been. She could jump in the Miata and rent a room at the cozy bed and breakfast she’d seen in town then call animal control in the morning. But damn it, this was her cottage. Hers. Neither Devlin nor his wild pet could convince her otherwise. With a sigh, she strolled inside and closed the door behind her. The wolf had jumped on the couch where it settled, half its massive body draping over the side of the ugly sofa. I’m staying, it seemed to say with those piercing eyes. A quick look around the kitchen, bedroom and empty bathroom made it clear Devlin wasn’t home. Disappointment weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. She tried to convince herself she’d been looking forward to telling him he had to find a new place to live, but she knew better. Her eagerness to see him had nothing to do with asserting her authority. Quite the opposite. This morning she’d been at his mercy. She’d allowed him to explore her, to touch her in ways that both excited and frightened her. And she couldn’t wait to let him do it again. Obviously Devlin hadn’t been quite as eager to see her again as she’d been to see him. Not that she could blame him after the way she’d run out, leaving him to handle the world’s most impressive hard-on on his own. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d barely had anything to eat all day. The bags of groceries waited in the trunk. Throwing her purse on the kitchen table, she resigned herself to eating alone. 58

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Odd that the concept of cooking for one should sadden her. Twelve hours ago, she couldn’t wait to be away from the rest of the world. The idea of solitude had held tremendous appeal. Now it just seemed pitiful. When she passed by the couch, the wolf raised its head. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me carry in groceries, huh?” It sniffed almost apologetically. Ava shook her head, and, without thinking about it too much lest she lose her nerve, reached down to scratch under the animal’s chin. The wolf rewarded her with a low, guttural rumble. “You’re pretty cute.” She offered a slight smile. “But somehow I’m willing to bet you already knew that.” The animal gave what sounded like an indignant scoff and lifted its chin a fraction of an inch. Ava chuckled as she smoothed down its fur. “Forgive me. Not cute. Something more…macho then. Handsome? Rugged?” It yawned, revealing sharp teeth that elicited an instant blood-curdling spasm of fear and admiration in Ava. Its jaw closed with a snap. “Okay, I get the message. You might appear friendly enough, but underneath that silky fur and perceptive gaze lies the strength of a predator.” There was something in that realization, something that lurked just beneath the surface of Ava’s thoughts. She remembered the way Devlin had scooped her off her feet in the kitchen and carried her to the bedroom, as though she weighed nothing at all. She knew that couldn’t be further from the truth. Emmett had chided her constantly over the past five years about her rounded frame. She’d tried to shrug it off, but the continual digging remarks had taken their toll. When she’d found a woman who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds straddling her adulterous husband, she hadn’t been surprised.

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And yet Devlin had carried her with ease. He hadn’t even been breathing hard when he’d placed her down on the bed. He’d been so strong, so powerful, so controlled. Her gaze focused on the wolf, really seeing it for the first time. “No wonder he likes you,” she said, studying the animal with curious eyes. “You’re two of a kind.” For a moment, the creature’s gaze turned so strange and compelling she half expected it to open its mouth and reply in a language she’d understand. When it didn’t, she shook herself out of her reverie and headed for the car.

***** Ava couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for the better part of an hour, but to no avail. Exhaustion seeped into her limbs, weighed her down with fatigue, and still sleep refused to claim her. Part of it, she knew, came from the scent wafting from the bed sheets. She’d changed the ones that had been on the bed to another set she found in the small dresser that stood against the far wall. Though the sheets felt crisp and smelled of freshly laundered fabric, there was another aroma that dwarfed the others, one that made her want to bury her head in the pillow and inhale until Devlin’s scent was permanently imprinted on her senses. The other part of the problem came from the wolf slumbering on the floor at the foot of the bed. Even though the animal hadn’t given her any reason to think it would harm her, sharing a bedroom with a feral, carnivorous mammal was enough to banish the Sandman from the room. And then there were the thoughts that kept running through her mind, making it impossible to drift off into dreamland. Devlin hadn’t returned.

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She’d thought he would, so she waited until well past midnight. When it became clear he’d be spending the night elsewhere, she wrapped up the second plate she’d set out anyway and prepared for bed, feeling like the foolish middle-aged woman she was. What had made her think Devlin would come back to her? He was too young, too gorgeous, too…everything. And what did she have to offer, aside from a plump, past-itsprime body? He must have known that at best what awaited him back at the cottage was a night in her arms. At worst, a night of sleeping on the couch. Either way, he obviously had a better offer elsewhere. Just because the women in Boonville didn’t know how he entertained himself didn’t mean he lived like a celibate monk. She should have taken his marked dismissal in stride. She was used to being rejected and ignored. She’d made a career out of ensuring other women wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of ego-bruising behavior. In her Diva columns, she taught others how to handle men like Devlin, how to ensure they would come back—begging preferably. Not that she needed it, but this was yet more proof she wasn’t anywhere near the Diva she pretended to be. Heck, for all she knew, every bit of made-up advice she doled out in large doses was dead wrong. Only the constant stream of fan mail told her otherwise. Surely there had to be something to her advice, or else her column wouldn’t have become so popular. If anyone knew she’d based it on half-baked assumptions and speculation, she could kiss her second book contract goodbye. Swallowing back a grumbled curse, she flipped onto her back. A waft of Devlin’s natural, pheromone-filled scent drifted up from the pillows. She inhaled it on a sigh and it zinged right through her, burrowing in the apex of her thighs. She rocked her hips slightly, remembering how amazing his mouth had felt on her pussy. He’d been so thorough, so attentive. He’d given every indication that she wasn’t 61

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just a simple conquest for him, but maybe, as unrealistic as it sounded…something more. So stupid, Ava. Stupid. The wolf snored, releasing a puff of air that echoed through the room. She held her breath, waiting to see if it would wake. After a minute of listening to its steady breathing, she slipped her hand down the swell of her stomach to press against her mound. A jolt of liquid desire shot through her and she almost moaned. Catching herself at the last moment, she quickly slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her cotton pajama bottoms. Something gave way inside her when she touched her slick nether lips. She wanted to sleep, but she yearned for fulfillment more. If she wouldn’t get it from the man who’d awoken this intolerable need inside her, she’d just have to do it herself. Pulling in a deep, shuddering breath through her mouth, she allowed her fingers to drift over her slit. The plump, velvety folds parted with ease, allowing her to delve into the blazing heat lingering there. She stroked around the entrance to her pussy, marveling at the amount of slippery cream that had seeped from the opening. She never got this wet without at least a little help from a tube of lubricant. Her labia felt flushed, hot to the touch. Her channel pulsed softly, protesting its untouched, forgotten state. What had Devlin thought of her pussy? Oh, he’d been aroused of course, but what had he really thought of her shaved mound, her plump labia, her large, pebbled clit? Thinking of his mouth on her sex made her quiver. Stifling another moan, she planted her index finger in the crevice leading to her opening. Her inner walls clenched, fighting to draw the slight intrusion inside her.

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She should have let him fuck her, she thought through a haze of desperate lust and sheer wanting. The condom had been such a convenient excuse to run. She should have stayed, should have let him impale her with that sensational cock, should have let him spill himself inside her as he screamed her name. Diva. She almost smiled at that. He’d called her by the wrong name all along, and despite her feeble effort at correcting him, he hadn’t given a damn he’d gotten it wrong. Worse yet, when he uttered it, the name fit. It seemed clear that Devlin wasn’t the type of man used to being corrected. Or used to giving in, for that matter. Stubborn, arrogant male. Typical. Only…there was nothing typical about Devlin No-Last-Name. He was the genuine article—a real enigma. The kind no woman would be able to resist. She didn’t want to resist him. For once in her life, she wanted to know what real Divas experienced when they were being pleasured in every possible way by a man who wanted them with each fiber of his being. The tip of her finger hovering so close to her entrance produced a surge of desire that shifted from her pussy into her lower belly and settled there like a swarm of butterflies. She rocked her hips and thrust her finger inside herself at the same time, filling her empty channel. The sensation eased some of the need rushing through her veins, but her finger was much smaller than Devlin’s had been. She wanted her pussy crammed full of his thick cock, not toyed with gently as she was doing. Driven by the need to come again, she slipped a second finger alongside the first. Then another. There. That was a little closer to what she imagined his cock would feel

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like when it entered her. It would stretch her cunt and prove its dominance over her body with every precise thrust. The heel of her hand pressed against her clit. She shifted, bringing her pussy into closer contact with her hand, and began to pump in and out of her opening. The bedsprings squeaked in rhythm with her efforts. She stifled her cries, still concerned with waking the slumbering beast at the foot of her bed. Holding back became more difficult with every stroke, but she fought the urge to scream, to call out his name. Flames licked her pussy just as his tongue had done, driving her toward orgasm. She felt the release building deep in her cunt, causing her inner muscles to tighten around her fingers. Sweat trickled in the valley between her breasts. Her cotton camisole stuck to her skin. Heat enveloped her from head to toe and still the madness that drove her to fuck herself harder urged her on. The climax rushed through her in the span of a frenzied heartbeat. It shook her to the core, drenched her hand in her juices, and fled much too soon. She whimpered, her breath coming in swift, ragged gasps. The rush of blood thundered in her ears. She couldn’t even hear the wolf’s comfortable snores over the sound of her own pulse drumming a furious rhythm inside her skull. Pulling her fingers free of her soaked pussy, she cradled her mound in the palm of her hand, applying just enough pressure to allow the soft aftershocks of release to course through her. Wet heat slipped out of her opening, pooling in the crotch of her pajama bottoms. She didn’t care. Her eyes drifted closed. As her breathing deepened, she fell into a sound, bonenumbing sleep.

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Only to awaken to sunshine pouring through the window above her bed…and Devlin’s hard, naked body pressing down on hers.

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Chapter Five My next revelation will come as no surprise to any of you Divas out there, but I want you to pay attention and fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ready? Here it is. Sex means more to women than it does to men. However, it doesn’t have to. You too can enjoy guilt-free one-night stands or the many advantages of having a friend with benefits. The key is to embrace sex for what it is. A way to feel good instead of a way to feel secure. Do that, and you’ll have no end of satisfying sexual experiences. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

Even through the blanket separating their bodies, Devlin could feel every soft curve of Diva’s enticing form molding to his. She lay unmoving beneath him and opened her eyes. The unmistakable look of desire flashed across their surface before she blinked rapidly and lowered her lashes. “You’re in my room,” she said, her voice slightly raspy with sleep. “And you’re in my bed. Right where you belong.” Before she could respond, he leaned in and brushed his lips to hers. She started, causing her mouth to part. He swept his tongue along the seam of her lips, delving inside for a brief moment before ending the featherlight kiss. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, knowing she’d tossed and turned for hours before finally succumbing to the ache building between her legs. He’d had to lie on the floor in his wolf shape pretending to sleep all the while desperately wishing he could suppress his feral nature. The duality of his species had

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never before been an imposition. The shift came upon him in the blink of an eye, always ruled by the position of the moon in the sky. The change was as predictable as the moon itself. At the exact moment of moonset and moonrise, he altered shape. In the morning, the beast retreated into slumber, making way for the human part of him to break through the barrier that contained it during the night. The essence regulating the shift wasn’t something he had any control over. It was simply a part of him, like the need to draw oxygen into his lungs or the desire for food to fill his belly. None of the wolves in his pack could regulate the shift any more than they could instruct the moon not to rise. He’d known this his entire life, from the moment he’d become aware of himself as a pup by night and a human child by day. He was a werewolf. A creature humans often speculated about and used as an icon in their popular culture. Most humans assumed his kind was nothing but folklore, mythology, beasts imagined for tales to scare children. They weren’t. Packs of werewolves existed, and while such packs were rare, they were real. Including his. Some of the people who lived in Boonville claimed they’d seen wolves prowling outside the town’s perimeter in the twilight hours. Superstition ran rampant in small villages, making werewolves the favored topic of conversation in the town’s tavern late at night. For his part, Devlin hadn’t paid much heed to speculative talk. He was what he was, and no amount of conjecture could change his nature. Nor could he alter the human perception of his species even if he stood in the middle of Boonville and asked the villagers to bear witness to his shift. He thought he’d come to terms with being different. He’d never felt as though he belonged with his pack. Restless and independent, he’d needed more than their savage lifestyle could offer. And yet he’d known he wouldn’t be able to live among humans either. 67

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This cottage had offered a refuge. Here he could straddle the line that separated his two worlds. He could be part of both—and neither. And yet last night had been the longest of his entire life. The wolf had done its best to control the man’s frenzied need for the woman sleeping a few feet away, but the moment daylight broke across the sky and the feral instinct eased, Devlin had climbed on the bed before he’d even fully returned to human form. His muscles had contracted, his muzzle had retreated and the sleek tufts of fur had disappeared just as Diva had woken. She could have seen him in mid-shift, but he hadn’t given that possibility more than a passing thought. At the time, he’d only known he needed to be closer to her. Beside her—inside her. Diva made a low rumbling noise that could have been a cross between a chuckle and a groan. “I slept as well as could be expected. I’m in a strange bed, in a house I thought was my own until yesterday. And— Oh!” Her eyes widened and she lifted herself on her elbows, causing him to inch back a little. “Your wolf was here.” His mouth twitched. She’d assumed the animal was his pet, but Devlin knew the truth of his nature lurked just beneath her logical mind. If she stopped to consider the facts long enough without worrying about what she understood to be possible, she’d figure it out. She’d almost put everything together last night when she’d referred to Devlin and the wolf as two of a kind. “I trust he kept you safe,” Devlin said, not bothering to hide his smile. She shook her head. “How did you tame such a wild creature to be your own personal guard wolf?” Devlin shrugged. “He’s not my guard wolf. He’s yours.” Her brows drew downward over the bridge of her nose. “There’s so much about you I just don’t understand.”

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He reached out, tucked a lock of tangled hair behind her ear. “Ask me. I’ll answer whatever I can.” “Last night…” She hesitated then looked away. “It’s none of my business.” Cupping the back of her head in his palm, he drew her closer to him. The blanket slipped a little, baring the swell of her breast. He could make out the tip of her pebbled nipple as it pressed against her white tank top. “Ask me.” He repeated, his mouth only a breath away from hers. She swallowed hard. He could read the indecision in her gaze and knew the exact moment she’d made up her mind. In an instant, she closed the distance between them. Her mouth fused to his and she slipped her tongue along his lips, demanding entry. He opened to her, slipped his arm around her waist and pulled them both into a sitting position. The blanket fell to her lap. He was nearly a foot taller, but the difference in their height only served to fan the flames of the desire swirling through his bloodstream. He’d never been so close to anyone who felt so soft, so feminine. The women of his pack were strong and aggressive, all sleek muscle and harsh lines. In contrast, Diva was pure womanly wantonness. She felt warm and delicate in his arms, even a little helpless. He loved the way she made him feel—powerful and rugged, accepted and desired for his strength and vigor. Unlike the other females he’d known, Diva didn’t make him feel ashamed of his desire to dominate, his need to wield sexual power with the strength of his body and the demands of his kisses. For her part, she kissed him with every ounce of her being, pouring herself into the act. Her tongue sought his with a shy, tentative touch. He encouraged her with bold strokes of his own and was rewarded by a low, husky moan.

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Her fingers traveled across the span of his shoulders and down his arms, slowly exploring every ridge, dip and valley they came across. She skimmed her palms along the muscles of his chest, slipping her fingertips in the dark hair she found there. She pulled away, a small smile tilting her kiss-swollen mouth. “Don’t you ever wear clothes?” “Clothes are impractical. I wear them when I need to, but prefer to go without.” He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her tank top and rolled it up slowly. “I’d prefer if you went without too.” She swallowed. “I’m starting to see the appeal.” Lifting her arms over her head, she waited while he pulled the garment off and tossed it on the floor. His gaze darted to her breasts. Full and plump, they rose and fell with the force of her breathing. Large dark areolas surrounded stiff little nipples that begged to be sucked. He cupped her breast in his hand while his free palm glided up behind her neck. He applied a bit of pressure to both areas, kneading the soft tissue. A tremor ran through her at the contact. “Your hands are so big,” she whispered, glancing down at the spot where his palm connected with her skin. He followed the line of her gaze. Her breasts were large and well-formed, but his hand seemed to dwarf the plump mound. “Are you afraid of me?” She sucked in a deep breath and speared him with an ardent stare. He’d never seen her look at him that way before, and the sensation of being assessed in such a thorough manner sent a wave of longing to settle deep in his chest. “I’m terrified.” She spoke softly, without a hint of quiver in her melodic voice. Devlin tweaked a nipple between thumb and forefinger, drawing a gasp from her. His other hand moved across the column of her throat. He pressed a thumb to the hollow at the base of her neck where her pulse jumped wildly. “You want me to stop?”

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Her eyelashes fluttered, scattering the watery film of tears before they could materialize. “Damn you. I want you to—” She clamped her mouth shut and looked away. Devlin nudged her jaw with his knuckle. When she refused to look at him, he captured her chin in his hand and turned her head. “No more running, Diva. You’ve done enough of that.” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know anything about me.” “I know you’re hesitant, but not because you fear me.” Her tongue snaked out between her lips, moistening them. What would those full lips feel like sliding up and down the length of his shaft? He stifled a groan as his cock stiffened farther, straining against his stomach. He pushed the blanket aside, baring the soft cotton of her pajama bottoms. The wet spot between her legs told him everything he needed to know. His hand moved from her throat to her pussy. He ran his fingers across the surface of the moist material, plastering it to her wet folds. It was so clear to him she fought an internal war. She wanted him—her body told him as much in no uncertain terms. Her mind, though, that was another matter. He wanted her to accept him, to welcome him inside her with a desperation born of maddening need. Not just because her pussy desired him, but because she craved him as fiercely as he hungered for her. “Do you want me, Diva?” She cringed a little at his use of her name. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she nodded mutely. “Not good enough. I need to hear you say it.” He stroked her slit through the material of her pajama bottoms. Using his middle finger, he delved inside her folds and rubbed the area from her clit to her opening with slow, controlled movements. “Do you want me? Here?”

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The wet spot grew larger, widening the dark stain across the pink fabric. The scent of her arousal seeped into his veins with every breath he took. His cock wept a drop of pre-cum, and still he refused to give in until she admitted she wanted him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake a second time. He feared he’d lost her for good yesterday when he rushed to fuck her. This had to be her decision all the way. And if that meant he had to wait until she admitted as much to herself, then he’d summon every last ounce of willpower he possessed to ensure that happened. Devlin eased up on her sex. He patted her pussy lightly, encouraged when she arched her hips to prolong the contact. “I want…” She closed her eyes. “Look at me.” When she didn’t, he removed his hand. Her eyes snapped open. “Now tell me what you want.” “I want you to touch me again,” she said in a hoarse whisper. He rubbed the tips of his index and middle fingers across the seam in her pajama bottoms, barely coming in contact with her swollen folds. “Here? You want me to touch you here?” A rosy flush dotted her chest then crept up her throat into her cheeks. He’d never seen her look more beautiful. She nodded. “Not through fabric. Like yesterday—with your fingers.” Tugging on the waistband of her pajama bottoms, Devlin pulled them down over her hips. She helped by lifting her buttocks off the bed and letting him ease the fabric down her legs. Her shaved pussy glistened with her cream. He stared at the smooth, bare skin, so different from the curl-laden mounds familiar to him. With a slow, almost reverent touch, he drew his fingers through her slit, gathered some of the moisture and brought it to her mouth.

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She watched him through half-lidded eyes as he smeared a drop on her bottom lip. “Taste it.” Diva hesitated for only a moment before the tip of her pink tongue swept out and gathered the musky juices he’d placed on her lip. “Every bit of you cries out for attention. Your pussy begs for it, your breasts quiver with need, and your mouth practically pleads every time you part those beautiful lips.” He returned his hand to her smooth labia and brushed against the fleshy nether lips. “But those aren’t the parts that need attention the most.” “Oh?” The word came out as little more than a squeak. “The parts that have really been neglected are here.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead then dipped down and brushed his lips against her chest, just above her heart. “And here.” Gasping, she reared her head back a fraction. “You can’t know that.” Devlin frowned. She was right. He couldn’t have known that…and yet one look in her haunted eyes and it was as though she’d told him every word herself. “Am I wrong?” “No,” she whispered. After a moment’s hesitation, she looked up at him. Her gaze met his. And held. “I’m scared you’ll hurt me. Not physically, but…you know. And the really frightening thing about all this is that I want you so much I ache.” She pressed her palm over her heart where his lips had been a moment before. “Right here.” Her other hand grabbed his and guided it back to her pussy. “And here. Worst of all, the longer you torment me like this, the more it really does hurt. Everywhere.” “It doesn’t have to,” he said, meaning it. “For either of us.” He nudged her opening with the tip of his finger before pulling back. Grabbing both her wrists, he straightened his legs and pulled her to him so her knees dug into the mattress on either side of his hips. The lips of her pussy parted as she widened her stance, giving him an irresistible peek at her glistening opening.

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“Straddle me. Watch me as I enter you.” “Wait.” He gritted his teeth and called on the self-control he thought he’d all but used up as she shuffled on her knees to the other end of the bed. Yanking the top drawer of the nightstand open, she pulled out a box. “Condoms,” she said, slipping out a little foil packet. “I told you I’d get some.” He lifted an eyebrow but didn’t protest when she leaned over and unrolled the thin, rubbery film across his stiff rod. The moment she finished, he gripped her waist and pulled her to him. “Come here.” She giggled, the carefree sound echoing through the room and lifting his spirits. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” She descended with careful precision, giving him time to grab his shaft and angle it toward the opening to her pussy. When her warm cunt made contact with the tip of his cock, the shudder that ran through him lodged deep in his balls, drawing the sensitive skin tight across his sac. Her rounded thighs strained, quivering as she impaled herself on his waiting cock. She took him in inch by inch, with the kind of patience and control he was sure he couldn’t have exhibited in her place. When she came down fully, the sigh that escaped his lips mirrored hers. “So tight,” he whispered, drawing her close and holding her there. He wanted to lose himself in the wet heat of her pussy. Her breasts rubbed across his chest, her peaked nipples grazing his flesh. “So good.” “Good,” she echoed then hissed as he angled his hips and pressed up even deeper inside her. “Yes!” Devlin turned his head, found her lips with his. She parted them and their tongues met just as he began to move inside her.

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As her quivering muscles milked him, she met his rhythm thrust for thrust, lifting herself up and then coming down on a slow glide. Every nerve ending in his cock screamed with awareness, even through the thin barrier of the sheath she’d placed on his sex. He drove himself into her, leading with his hips. Each time she met him halfway, letting him know she was there to take every bit of him he was willing to give. Driven by the need churning through his system, he anchored her in place with his hands on her waist and pushed his cock deeper, faster, harder. She whimpered and cried out as his strokes grew more intense but made no move to stop him. Instead, she kissed him with the same fevered vehemence he forced upon her pussy, biting his lip, thrusting her tongue past his to assault his mouth. His soft, womanly human female left no doubt in his mind that while she liked his strength, she could give as well as she received. He stroked her, making small circles with his thumb over the silky skin of her stomach. The tense muscles of her buttocks grazed his thighs, sending a flash of renewed sensation into his balls. Leaning back a fraction, Devlin lifted his knees, and her along with them. She clung to him, riding him with all the feminine power she possessed. He’d started this thinking he’d be in control. He’d hoped there was a woman out there who would love what he had to offer—dominance, authority, strength. He’d been right. The woman in his arms clearly reveled in their sexual connection, but there was more to it than that. The sensation traveling through him didn’t start and end in his overexcited cock. It streamed through his entire body, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and she wasn’t even touching those parts. Holding her to him as he fucked her felt so right, he never wanted to let go. Sweat trickled down his chest. Hers, his, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

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His fingers quested for her clit and found the little nub protruding from beneath its hood. He touched her lightly with one hand while the other moved to the base of her spine, steadying her as she worked his cock deep into her cunt. “Oh God!” Her cry prompted another wave of erotic fury to pound into his cock. He couldn’t hold back much longer and he desperately wanted her to come first. He flicked her clit again, a little harder this time. She buckled against him, her thighs shaking with the effort of continuing to ride him at the same frenzied speed he’d set for them while her inner walls gripped and milked him. A third flick sent her over the edge. The flames radiating from her pussy and enveloping his groin blazed hotter yet. She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his flesh, and tossed her head back. “Devlin! Coming…oh! Coming!” Yes, she was, he realized through the fog of euphoria. He felt her scorching cunt clamp down on him, claiming his cock as her own. He shattered on that thought and arched his spine as his seed erupted and filled the sheath wrapping his shaft. He continued to pump inside her well past the point he’d drained his seed. He had no more to give, and yet he wanted to shower her in his cum, in pleasure and wet heat. Her own continual quivers continued to stroke the sides of his cock, spurring him on. Loathe to stop, he forced himself to ease his assault on her pussy when his cock began to soften. She clung to him, her breasts slick with sweat, her chest lifting and falling with each ragged breath. She pulled back first and tried to rise, but he pressed down on her hips, keeping her anchored to him. Their bodies fit together so well that despite her obvious eagerness to flee, he hated to let her go. The sun blazed bright through the windows, bathing her in a golden sheen that highlighted every beautiful drop of sweat. When she looked at him, he recognized the wariness in her eyes, the mistrust and fear he wished he could wipe away permanently, and not just while he had her on the brink of orgasm. 76

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He forced himself to smile, though his heart felt as if it were breaking into a million pieces as she gazed through him rather than at him. “What do I want now, Devlin?” He opened his mouth, but closed it when he realized that for the first time he had no idea.

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Chapter Six Always having the upper hand is paramount in any relationship. Intimacy is a two-way street, and despite what other self-help books may tell you, it’s a constant power struggle. There is no such thing as equality in a relationship. The key to being a true Diva is maintaining that upper hand at all times. Submission is surrender. Surrender is celibacy. Remember that when you think about giving up control. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

Devlin leaned back in his chair and gulped the remainder of his soft drink. The unfamiliar carbonation made him wrinkle his nose, but the flavor wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Across from him, Diva cut a piece of roasted chicken in small chunks and pushed it around on her plate. She hadn’t said a word to him all day. After they’d made love, she jumped in the shower while Devlin lay in bed, wondering where he’d gone wrong. One moment she was soft, seductive and willing to let him take control. The next she’d drawn back into herself like a turtle who’d taken a peek outside its shell only to learn the world was filled with dangers it couldn’t even begin to comprehend. When she’d arrived the previous morning, Diva admitted she was running away. Until he’d looked into her eyes and gazed at the wariness and fear hidden in their depths, he hadn’t even begun to imagine how deep her emotional scars ran. The knowledge that she’d likely been hurt by a lover—or worse, by a mate—sent a sudden, elemental jolt of possessiveness to shimmer through his bloodstream.

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For hours, he’d watched her ignore him as she set about putting the cottage in order. She’d scrubbed the floors, washed the windows and even cooked a gourmet meal. All while doing a masterful job of pretending he wasn’t there. Only the slight trembling of her hand as she clutched the knife and carved into her food told him she wasn’t as unaffected by his presence as she wanted him to believe. A dark, menacing cloud shifted past the window, blocking out some of the sunlight glinting off the flatware. Devlin glanced outside, noting the sun had already begun making a rapid descent toward the horizon. He didn’t have much time. “You want me to leave.” Diva’s head snapped up. A hint of color dotted her cheeks as she met his eyes for the first time since that morning. “N-No. That is, I don’t know. Maybe.” “I make you uncomfortable.” Like his previous statement, this one wasn’t a question either. It didn’t take an expert on human females to realize she’d rather be alone. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave for fear she’d never let him back in. He wasn’t simply concerned about not being allowed back into the cottage. He wanted her to open up to him, to let him enter her mind, her soul…and yes, her body. And he wanted her to do it because she needed him, because she was as fascinated and drawn by him as he was by her. She set her fork on the plate. The utensil clattered as it came to rest alongside the meal she’d barely touched. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I thought I could share my home with you, but now… Maybe coming here was a bad idea.” “Or maybe coming here was exactly what you needed. Maybe I’m just what you need.” She stood, grabbed her plate and carried it to the sink, but not before he saw her draw her bottom lip between her teeth. He’d hit a nerve. Now all he had to do was push a little harder. But did he have the courage to do that if it meant he might push her away for good?

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“I’ve lived in this cottage for two years. I thought it was my home, but now I know better.” He pushed back his chair and strode to where she stood, her fingers clutching the countertop so hard her knuckles had turned white. “Do you know why?” She shook her head. Her shoulders trembled as though she held back a sob that would rack her body from head to toe if she only let it. He didn’t think there was a shred of emotion that poured out of her unless she gave it express permission to do so. He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. His chest pressed against her back, but unlike the previous morning when he’d held her in his arms on the bed, he was no longer satisfied with that simple contact. He craved the closeness they’d shared earlier when she’d welcomed him into her body and they’d connected on a deep, intimate level. Face-to-face. Heart-to-heart. He could have spun her around, forced her to face him. He’d asserted himself against the females of his pack countless times, using his strength to instruct and dominate. In return, they’d fought him to prove they were the superior sex. At the time, the constant power struggle had been the only way he could assert himself. Yet now…for the first time in his life, Devlin found he didn’t want to use his strength to bend a female to his will. He needed her to want him on equal terms. The unexpected realization nearly made him stagger. “Do you know why?” he asked again, softer this time. His breath stirred her hair. She cleared her throat. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Because you don’t own the place?” “Humans put too much stock in a piece of paper. This isn’t about ownership. It’s about possession.” She stiffened and whirled around. Her eyes narrowed. She met his gaze boldly and shoved the tip of her index finger into his chest. “You don’t possess anything. Not this cottage, not even the right to spend another night here. And you certainly don’t own me.” 80

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He brought his hands up and cupped her face in his palms. Her lips thinned into a narrow line, but her breathing quickened at the contact. “I wasn’t talking about what I possess. It’s what you possess that interests me.” Her chin came up another notch. Steely determination filled her eyes. “I’m not going to give you the cottage if that’s what you’re asking.” A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “You’re thinking of items, material things. I’m talking about you.” He shifted his hands so they slid down the column of her neck then slipped lower. He placed one palm flat against her thundering heart. “You fill this cottage with your presence. Your scent in the air makes it hard for me to think of anything but how much I want you to be here again tomorrow, and the day after that. Your smile, rare though it might be, outshines the sun streaming through those windows. And when you look at me… Ah, Diva, when you really look at me…I’m home. I could be standing in the center of Boonville or drowning in a lake, and if you’d only look at me, I’d be—” She didn’t let him finish the sentence. The kiss knocked him off his feet—literally. He stumbled backward as she shoved him into the opposite counter, wrapped her arms around his neck and claimed his mouth with a fervent passion that was pure, unheeded femininity. He responded at once. The savage need rocketing through him shocked him with its intensity. His hands found her ass, cupped the fleshy cheeks through her flannel pants and yanked her closer. His erection throbbed, pressing tight against the seam of his jeans. She took control, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, flooding his senses with her taste. He kissed her back with relentless force, yet without any of the aggression he’d had to use to vie for position with the females of his pack. This was give-and-take, an exchange of emotion and passionate desire that didn’t require words or explanations. They communicated on a new level, one where there was no room for

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misunderstandings or regrets. One where the only thing that mattered was Devlin and Diva, and the raw honesty arcing through them both. She pulled away, panting, and leaned her hot forehead against his. “It’s so easy to get swept away by you. How great it must feel to be so inexperienced…so naïve. To never have suffered loss, or to know how it feels to have your heart stomped on by someone who promised to be there forever.” He slid his fingers through the silk of her hair. “My mother died when I was sixteen. I never knew my father. My brother left two years ago. I know he lives in Buffalo, but I haven’t seen him since.” Her hand trembled when she brought it to her mouth. “Oh God, Dev…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—” He waved away her apology. “You think I’m impulsive. That I haven’t given careful consideration to my own feelings.” Her indulgent, sad smile looked shaky and uncertain. “Take it from someone who’s been there…just because you think you’re in love doesn’t mean you are. Nothing lasts forever, Devlin. You speak as though you know what you want, but you have no idea.” He should have been insulted, but he wasn’t. Sadness and compassion overrode any hint of outrage. He kissed her mouth briefly before speaking. “Just because you don’t know what you want doesn’t mean I’m as lost as you are. I may not be as experienced with mating rituals and bonding unions, but I’m also not as jaded. And I’m willing to bet I know my heart better than you know your own.” “Hearts lie,” she said, stressing the last word. “You can’t always trust your hormones, or the euphoria that comes with meeting someone new.” “No?” he challenged as he toyed with the top button of her blouse. “What can you trust then?” She arched her back as the button snapped open, revealing a strip of creamy skin and the seductive valley between her full, unbound breasts. “Intellect. Logic.”

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“And where does that lead?” She hesitated. Devlin’s fingers stopped moving. This was too important. She hovered on the edge of a precipice, glancing across a chasm of self-doubt, ready to tumble head-first into a reality she hadn’t let herself contemplate. And when she did, he’d be there to catch her. “It leads to marriage. To comfort.” Her voice quivered, betraying the confident words she spoke. “To betrayal? To loneliness?” Tears welled in her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and let her eyelashes drift closed. Teardrops spilled down her cheeks. For a moment Devlin thought he might have pushed too far. “Impulsive love affairs lead to heartache too.” He reached for her hand, grasped it in his. Her fingers closed around his, clutching tight. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But wouldn’t you rather follow your heart and find out how this story ends? Forty years from now when you’re lying in bed thinking back on your life, wouldn’t you like to smile knowing you had the courage to let yourself fall?” That sad smile appeared again, damn near breaking his heart. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Dev. You make it much too easy for me to fall for you. I don’t know anything about you.” Her words touched something deep inside him, nudging the part of him he’d hidden from humans his entire life. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to tell her everything about himself. Who he was—what he was—all of it. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know where to begin. There was so much to explain, so much he feared she wouldn’t understand. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just ask.”

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She looked as if she were about to, but then shook her head. “It’s none of my business.” He lifted his hands in a gesture of open surrender. “I’m making it your business. I’m yours. Anything you want to know about me is yours for the asking. Just…ask.” Laughter bubbled up in Ava’s throat. Panicked, hysterical laughter she had no right to unleash. She’d probably scare the poor man to death and he’d wonder whether she needed professional help. Not that she hadn’t already wondered the same thing about him a time or two. The man uttered the words mating and humans as though they were used in everyday conversation. And he spoke with so much passion and conviction he nearly had her believing he’d been waiting for her his entire life. She felt as though she’d walked into a dream. Hell, he probably used this as a foolproof pick-up method. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t fall at his feet when he made her feel like the most important person in the world? She desperately wanted to believe in the fairy tale he spun around her so tight it made her chest ache. But she knew better. Fairy tales were for mythical creatures and innocent girls with stars in their eyes. Not for over-the-hill divorcées who grew up long ago. Just ask. Did he know what he suggested? She’d spent the last decade shying away from asking anything of her husband. Where were you last night? Did you have a good time with the boys? Who was that woman who called looking for you? Do you love me? She’d bottled up so many questions she was no longer sure she could ask anything personal of anyone. Long ago she’d stopped inquiring about her friends’ lives…not that she had any real friends anyway. What she had were acquaintances, people who loved to prod into her affairs with no regard for the emotional turmoil they stirred up with all those thoughtless questions.

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No. She’d learned long ago that it was much safer not to know. Ignorance was bliss. And when all else failed, there was denial. Coupled with her Diva columns in which she could lose herself for a while, denial had gotten her through many lonely nights. “I don’t want to talk.” The words sounded sullen and petulant, even to her. “I’ve done enough of that over the years, and I have the therapy bills to prove it. No, no more talking.” “Diva—” She grabbed for his lapel, forgetting he wasn’t wearing a button-up shirt, and grabbed a handful of T-shirt instead. “I want more of what you’ve been giving me. More genuine closeness, more human contact.” Standing on her tiptoes, she tipped her head up so their lips were only inches apart. “Let me forget for a while, Dev. Please.” He growled, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his throat. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to protest. Panic welled in her throat. She wasn’t ready to let him open up to her. Hell, she wasn’t ready to reciprocate. It was so much easier to live in a cocoon of ignorance. There, she could make up her own reality, one that suited her needs. And what she needed right now was a fantasy lover. A man who’d attend to her every whim, who’d bring her to the pinnacle of bliss and take her over the edge until the raw ache tearing through her soul began to ebb and fade, if only for a little while. What she didn’t need—didn’t want—was reality. Reality came with complications. She’d have to face the truth about him, and who knew what that entailed? A wife he’d abandoned somewhere? A child perhaps? A long string of one-night stands? Or even more unsettling, the knowledge that this wasn’t an act. What if he really was everything he appeared to be? A loner who chose to live away from humanity, a man who’d shied away from random conquests because he’d been waiting for…what? Her? She almost snorted at that. It seemed too preposterous. Too terrifying. 85

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“I should—” “Shhh.” She placed two fingers against his lips then dropped to her knees before him. Her hand slid away from his mouth, but he didn’t try to speak again. A quick glance at his face revealed a muscle twitching in his jaw. Was he angry? Frustrated? She had no idea. The desire to ask bubbled to the back of her throat but she swallowed it down before she did something she’d regret. Instead, she reached for the top button of his jeans, unsnapping it. Dusky, lateafternoon light filtered in from the outside, casting shifting shadows over the length of his cock. She slipped the jeans down over the muscular length of his legs. He lifted one foot then the other, and she pushed the jeans away, leaving him naked from the waist down. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. No tightie-whities like her ex-husband wore, which she always thought looked ridiculous on grown men. Just pure, masculine nudity. Devlin’s cock speared the air, long and thick, proudly curving in slightly to kiss his toned stomach. She reached up, skimming her palms over his thighs and higher, caressing his abdomen, tugging up on his shirt. “Take it off.” His eyes narrowed. In the lengthening shadows, the blue orbs looked like eerie shards of sapphire in his tanned face. Ava’s heart hammered against her rib cage. “Please.” That had the desired effect. He released a deep breath, grabbed a handful of shirt and yanked it over his head, leaving his brown hair even more disheveled. Ava’s hands shook as she ran them over his body, marveling at the sleek planes and valleys that were all hers to explore. In the gathering near-darkness, his body seemed to attract what little light still filtered through the window. It glistened in the peach

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undertones of fading sunlight that brought out the dark curls nestled at his groin and the light dusting of hair on his chest, arms and legs. She was intensely aware of the musky scent of his body. He’d showered after they’d had sex, yet she could have sworn she still smelled herself on him, like a brand of scent she’d left behind he might never be able to wash off. That absurd notion brought with it an intense wave of satisfaction. She wanted to leave her mark on him. This was a fleeing encounter, a fantasy in the midst of a painful episode in her life, but damn it, she wanted him to remember her next week, next year, ten years from now. And she wanted him to remember her fondly. She took his shaft between her hands. Heat warmed her cheeks. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” she whispered, half hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear her confession. She’d meant it to be an apology and a warning all rolled into one. If she turned out to be awful at the act of giving him pleasure, at least he’d know not to get his hopes up. “Diva.” Her name was a caress on his lips. He slid his fingers into her hair and tipped her head up until she was forced to stare into those impossibly intense eyes. The tip of his cock hovered just above her lips, a beautiful intrusion in her line of sight. “The females of my pack live for their own pleasure, not ours. I’ve never experienced a woman’s mouth.” She gaped at him, stunned. Myriad questions flew through her mind, begging to be asked. It took all her willpower to ignore them. How ironic that she should be the more experienced one. She, who’d gotten married at nineteen and had only had one sexual partner—two counting Devlin—in her life. Some Diva all right. And yet, here was a gorgeous man who claimed even less knowledge than she did. She’d thought him a stud by looks alone, a guy familiar with every sexual activity known to man. 87

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He could be lying of course, but something told her he wasn’t. She heard the sincerity in his voice as he spoke. The slight trembling of his thigh as she breathed on his erection told the same story. She flicked the tip of her tongue slowly over the tiny slit at the head of his cock. He shuddered at the contact, gripping her hair tighter in his fisted hands. For a brief moment she considered drawing this out, making him squirm and quiver. Oddly, being on her knees before him shifted the power to her. She had him exactly where she wanted him—panting for her. She dismissed that thought almost as quickly as it appeared. Teasing him would be fun, but pleasing him would be better. Her lips glided over the length of his shaft and she sucked him deep inside, taking him firmly into the wet heat of her mouth. He cried out, hips pumping as she suckled his erection. Her tongue ascended along the underside of his cock, swirling around the head before she enveloped his shaft with her mouth again and again. Her hands followed the glide of her lips. She wrapped both palms around the base of his shaft and used them to trail the motions of her mouth. “This is—” His voice was raspy, wobbly, uncertain. She relished the sound, urged him on with slow, deliberate sweeps of her tongue. “I didn’t know—” She felt the gathering explosion thrum in his shaft as it stiffened and expanded in her mouth. She released him just long enough to follow the throbbing blue vein caressing the underside of his cock and swirl her tongue around his tight sac. Devlin rewarded her with another low groan. Every part of her responded to his reactions. Cream soaked her pussy, spreading a fiery need through her cunt. Her nipples pebbled as soft shivers awakened goose bumps all over her skin. Bringing him pleasure drove her mad with wanting, but the feverish need centered on making him come. This was no longer about forgetting. Somewhere along the line it had become about remembering what it meant to be a woman. No games. No fake moans and groans. Just 88

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spellbinding, soul-shattering ecstasy brought on by sharing herself with a gorgeous man who wanted her. Sometime between the moment she’d dropped to her knees and this exact instant she’d entered Diva territory. That revelation made her head reel. Rather than giving in to the terror and ecstasy that waged war inside her, she took one of Devlin’s delicate testicles in her mouth and let it rest on the hollow of her outstretched tongue. A bone-deep quiver ran through him. Tension radiated from him as he struggled to contain his growing frenzy. She felt it in the tightening of his muscles, in the way his cock pulsed and arched. He pulled her hair, forcing her head back a fraction of a second before his release exploded. His orgasm was messy and wild, as untamed and gloriously uncontrolled as he was. She reveled in the musky, intense odor enveloping her and the savage sound of his cry. Streams of wet heat splattered on her neck and white blouse. Some dripped into the unbuttoned valley of her cleavage to soak into her bra. Droplets splattered her cheeks, and one even landed on her lower lip. She gathered the hot essence on her tongue, tasting the strong, masculine flavor, letting it seep into her senses. She clung to his waist, anchoring him as his hips pumped into the air while his cock spent the remainder of its seed. He steadied himself by holding her head, his fingers buried deep in her hair. At last, she pressed her forehead to his thigh. Dark ringlets tickled her nose as she inhaled another gulping breath of his feral scent. His palm swept over the crown of her head in deep, soothing strokes. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know it could feel so good.” She nearly sobbed as elation swept through her. She cleared her throat, afraid she’d embarrass herself with another schoolgirl giggle. “Yeah, well. I’m sure it can be better. Someone with more experience—”

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He tilted her chin up. She could barely see his face in the shadows but she could make out the white glint of his teeth. “You can practice on me anytime you want.” His grin seemed almost predatory. The sight of it sent a jolt of awareness deep into her pussy. There was something dangerous about this man. It was there, lurking just beneath the surface. She could sense it in the menacing aura that enveloped him like a lover. How far she’d come from being the good housewife everyone expected her to be. Here she was, covered in the sticky cum of a man she’d only known for a day. Perhaps there was hope for the long-forgotten Diva in her after all. Devlin’s muscles rippled. At first she thought his thigh was twitching, but when she tightened her hold on him, she realized his entire leg shook. He jerked out of her grasp, his gaze darting to the window. They hadn’t turned on a light and the only illumination in the room came from the thin streak of light marring the horizon. In the violet glow, Devlin’s silhouette wavered like a mirage in the desert heat. He muttered something under his breath, an expletive she couldn’t quite catch. “I’m sorry.” Before she could ask what he meant, he was already flinging open the front door. Ava could barely see him above the counter that blocked the kitchen area from the rest of the room. He paused in the doorway. “Stay,” she thought she heard him say, though he could have said anything—or nothing at all. The sound he’d made was more of a guttural utterance than a real word. By the time she rose to her feet, he was gone. “Dev?” She rushed toward the open door. “What’s going on?”

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A cool breeze imbued the night air with an early autumn scent. Ava wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped onto the porch. Her shirt stuck to her skin, a moist reminder that the man she’d just pleasured had run out on her. There had to be a good reason for why he’d fled like that. He wouldn’t just bolt as soon as she finished him off…would he? She didn’t think so, but what did she really know about the man? She had only the word of a few villagers to go on, and no way of knowing how reliable they were. Her instincts told her to trust him, and she had. She’d shared her living space, her body…and if given a chance, she’d have shared her heart. Now that was a sobering thought. If she wasn’t careful, she’d have to run away a second time. She’d come here to find an escape, not to get her heart broken again. And no matter how much she wanted to believe in the pretty words Devlin had spoken with such conviction, she knew there was no future for them. There couldn’t be. They lived in different worlds. She was an urban housewife who felt at home in a Fifth Avenue coffee shop typing away at all hours of the day while he— A growl brought her up to her full height. She stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the unkempt yard and pebbled driveway. “Dev? If you’re out there, say something. You’re scaring me.” A branch snapped nearby. She started and reached for the switch just outside the front door. A flash of neon light flooded the front steps as the overhead bulb came on. The wolf stood just in front of her car. It snarled, baring wicked-looking fangs and took a step toward her. “Oh, hey there.” She pressed a hand to her heart in an effort to steady the frenzied beat. “I didn’t see you.”

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It wasn’t until the beast had bound up the steps that Ava realized it wasn’t the same wolf who’d spent the night with her. This one was smaller, sleeker, and a hundred times more menacing. The feral glimmer in its intelligent dark eyes turned her blood to ice water. She stumbled backward, catching her bare toes on the doorstop. She steadied herself at the last moment by grabbing in aimless confusion for the open door, instinctively knowing it was too late. The creature had already hurled itself into the air, its intent clear. She could almost feel her throat being torn apart by those vicious fangs. She caught sight of the massive black shadow darting from the right a split second before the creature’s front paws collided with the other wolf’s chest. Recognition slammed into her. This was Devlin’s wolf, the black one with the white stripe running down its face. Relief coiled itself in her gut, but it was short-lived. Fear for the animal who’d saved her life replaced it in the span of a heartbeat. She watched horrified as the two wolves rolled down the steps and onto the gravel. They snapped at one another, open mouths only an inch away from each other’s throats. It didn’t take long for her to realize they were taking warning shots. If they’d wanted to hurt the other, either could have done it at any time. Instead, her protector shoved and pushed while the attacker snarled and rammed its head into the other wolf’s chest. Devlin’s wolf propelled the other with a hard shove. Yelping, the smaller animal backed away, its head low to the ground. It snarled one last time before disappearing into the woods. Ava slumped against the door. Her pulse raced. Cold sweat trickled down her back. Blood roared in her ears, a storm of roaring noise pounding through her head as she watched Devlin’s wolf shuffle toward her, its startling familiar blue eyes glinting in the shadows. It looked wary, as though unsure how she’d perceive him now that she’d witnessed the scuffle. 92

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She reached out a trembling hand as it came near. “Thank you. If you hadn’t been here—” The rest of her gratitude died on her lips as a howl split the air. She felt lightheaded as she glanced up to find another wolf sitting on its haunches a few feet away from the side of the porch. Devlin’s animal broke away from her, bound toward the newcomer and nudged its shoulder with its head, returning the howl with something akin to enthusiasm. Ava backed into the cottage and slammed the door, ensuring to lock it this time. She was an advice columnist, damn it, not an expert in animal behavior. An advice columnist who’d had entirely too much excitement for one night at that. Confusion rolled through her. Anger mixed with fear to tug at the edges of the unappeased lust that still slithered through her veins. She’d witnessed something important. Maybe even monumental. Yet she couldn’t make sense of it. The strands of vague understanding that tugged at her mind were fragile, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Sighing, she ambled to the bedroom on shaky legs, thinking that maybe being a Diva wasn’t all she’d made it out to be.

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Chapter Seven The act of leaving a relationship should be approached the same way as ripping off a bandage. It needs to be done smoothly, quickly and in one motion. Whatever you do, don’t linger. Don’t let anyone talk you out of it once you’ve made up your mind. And for the love of all things Diva-worthy, don’t apply that same bandage over the old wound. You’ll only end up hurting more. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

“Cheyenne isn’t pleased.” Devlin stood on the tips of his toes, reached his hands toward the sky and arched his back, loosening his muscles. Shifting had become easier over the years, but daily metamorphosis still took its toll on his body. Beside him, Nicoló sat on the dew-strewn grass, folding at the waist and grabbing the soles of his feet until he could lay his head on his knees. “Show-off,” Devlin said, a grin tilting the side of his mouth. Nicoló frowned and straightened his spine. “Don’t change the subject. We need to talk about this.” Devlin’s grin faded as he sat beside his brother. The forest floor was cold and damp, sending a chill up his spine. The cracked edge of a branch dug into his bare buttocks. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “There’s nothing to talk about. Cheyenne made her feelings perfectly clear when she attacked Diva.” Nicoló slid his palm over the top of his closely shorn head. The last time Devlin had seen him, Nico’s hair had hung down past his shoulders in a wild dark mane as impressive as the rest of him. Now his short hair brought his startling profile into relief, highlighting the dark circles beneath his blue eyes. 94

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“You know as well as I do, pack law wouldn’t have allowed her to do anything drastic. She only wanted to frighten her a little.” He sighed when he saw the skepticism on Devlin’s face. “Okay, she wanted to terrify her. She’d hoped to convince her to flee the cottage. To leave you.” Angling his head to get a better look at his brother, Devlin sighed. “What about not interfering?” Nico hung his head and picked at a blade of grass. “She didn’t think this counted. Chey only wanted to plant the seed of suggestion in her mind. The choice would always be hers.” Devlin grasped his elbows in his hands. His gaze skittered over Nico’s body, taking in the fresh gash in his side, the purple bruise covering his ribs, the angry red contusion on the side of his chin. “It’s been two years, Nico, and in all that time you never came to see me. You sent a note. That was the only way I knew you were alive and well.” A grunt echoed through the forest. “I didn’t know what to say to you.” “And I don’t know you!” Devlin shouted, startling a bird from a nearby tree. “I don’t understand why you abandoned me.” He remembered leaving the pack with his brother at his side. Less than an hour later he was alone. Nico couldn’t stand the sight of him and he didn’t even know why. Nicoló pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around his legs. “Cheyenne needs you.” “Why do you care? You’re no more a part of this pack than I am. How did she even find you?” A shadow crossed Nico’s face. It was brief, but Devlin recognized it as the same look of grief and loss that had haunted him the night of the Matriarch Trials. The night they both broke away from the only life they’d ever known—and from each other. “Cheyenne’s…resourceful.”

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“Bullshit. Chey is many things. Resourceful isn’t one of them.” When Cheyenne had won the right to rule the pack, the other wolves had bowed at her feet, himself included. He’d expected little would change. Portia’s rule had been cruel, savage and entirely unpredictable. She found a variety of ways to circumvent pack law, each more creative than the next. She never discussed anything with anyone. No pack decisions were ever made as a unit, no compromises reached. Most of all, she believed in the mastery of the female with every fiber in her being and she upheld that code above all others. Females were warriors. Males were purely decorative. Sure, males possessed greater overall strength, but the pack valued cunning and shadowy movements in battle above stamina and brute force. For Devlin, life should have gone on as it always had—in an endless battle for control with every female he encountered over the most minute things. And then, with her mother’s body not yet lit aflame, Cheyenne chose her mate and stunned the entire pack when she’d selected him. Only no one was more shocked than Nico. There were sixteen males of the appropriate age. She could have named any one of them. She could have chosen Nico. Nicoló, all six feet five inches of him, displayed a raw masculine virility at which the females of the pack sneered at every opportunity. Cheyenne had never sneered. Devlin had seen her watch Nico when she thought no one was looking, her hungry gaze devouring him from afar. And yet she hadn’t chosen him. She’d picked Devlin, who knew what being mated meant and wanted none of it. He refused to bow down before a woman intent on making him her own personal slave. So he’d made his decision. He left. And by pack rule, not even Cheyenne could interfere with his choice. Portia would have found a way to keep him bound to the pack, but Cheyenne wasn’t her mother. Not yet. 96

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Devlin didn’t know what else happened that night, but he saw Nico pull Cheyenne away and heard snippets of their heated argument. It had been about him. At the time, he’d assumed his brother had elected to stand up for him. When he found himself alone an hour later, he knew that hadn’t been the case. “Who is she, Dev?” Nicoló asked. “The human who’s staying with you?” Devlin dug his toes into the moist grass. His gaze followed the trail snaking between the trees. From here he had a perfect view of the front door of the cottage. To the left, he could make out the crimson sheen of Diva’s car. Neither had budged all morning. “She’s…” Home. Heaven. Mine. “A friend.” Nicoló gave a low whistle. “We don’t have friends, Dev. We have pack brethren, human near-strangers and mates. There is nothing else. Which is she?” How did he answer that in a way Nicoló would understand? In the span of two days, everything Devlin thought he knew about himself and his lot in life had changed. He thought he’d come to terms with his separation from the pack and from his brother. He’d even begun to grow complacent here, thinking he was far beyond Cheyenne’s reach. Her fury when he’d refused to mate with her had been a wonder to behold. She’d gone on a rampage, destroying huts and fire pits, demolishing everything in her path. He didn’t want to cross her again in this lifetime. Not because he was afraid of her, but because he’d glimpsed something in her eyes that night. A raw panic that seemed to sear her soul. A hurt that mirrored Nico’s. And although he’d forced himself to banish it from his thoughts, he knew Cheyenne’s destiny had forked down a path that involved more than making a simple mating choice. Last night, everything changed again. “She’s everything,” Devlin said, his voice a mere whisper. An image of Diva’s sensual lips formed unbidden in his mind. Her eyes came next, clear and full of pain. He yearned to sweep her in his arms and protect her from the past that hurt her, but how could he when he’d nearly let his own past rip her to shreds? 97

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Nicoló lips curved, his smile filled with a deep, desperate sadness that seemed to reflect all the way down into his soul. “Then why are you here with me?” The anguish in his brother’s gaze shocked Devlin to the core. Two years hadn’t dulled any of the pain that helped form the lines around Nico’s eyes and mouth. His own private anguish still reached as deep as ever. Despite the chasm they still had to cross, Devlin shuffled to the left, closed the distance between them and draped an arm around Nicoló’s shoulders. “I thought of you often.” Nicoló shrugged and leaned against him, heat seeping from his powerful frame. “I made mistakes, little brother. Maybe this is my chance to set some of them right again.” The regret Devlin heard in his brother’s voice was new. The man who sat here now wasn’t the same who left the pack at his side two years ago. He’d changed in ways that went beyond the scars Devlin could see with his naked eye. He only hoped that one day he’d find out what had turned his confident, determined brother into the troubled man who needed to lean on him for a change. He opened his mouth to ask something else, but Nicoló cut him off by slapping his knee. Hard. “Enough of this. Chey thinks I’m here to talk some sense into you.” He shifted his gaze, no longer meeting Devlin’s eyes. “She wants you back in a bad way.” He could feel the warmth of the rising sun on his bare back, but he felt cold, chilled to the bone. “Then she’d better have sent you here to kill me. Because it’s the only way I’m coming back.” Nico grimaced. “You’re serious.” Devlin raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. “You want to find out?” A thought struck with lightning speed and it was his turn to frown. “Wait. You said Cheyenne thinks you’re here to talk some sense into me. Why are you really here?”

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A brief sigh was his brother’s only response. Then a slight tug on Nico’s mouth as the man’s gaze darkened. And finally, a glint in his sapphire eyes that reminded Devlin of the children they’d been as they tumbled down verdant valleys and played together whether the sun was high or the moon governed their feral natures. For a moment, the missing years and all the pain disappeared and he was once again staring at his brother, the only one of his pack brethren who’d understood what it meant to need to make a fresh start and fuck the consequences. “I’m here to urge you to go after what you want. I saw it in your eyes last night when you looked at your friend. She’s the reason you left the pack, Dev. You might not have known it at the time, but if she’s the one your heart calls to, then don’t let Cheyenne or anyone else keep you from claiming her as your own.” Devlin pushed himself to his feet. “She won’t be easily claimed, you know. She’s stubborn.” Nicoló rose to his full height and slapped Devlin on the back. “You’ll find a way.” They stood facing each other for a long moment before Devlin stepped forward and pulled Nico to him in a tight embrace. They’d spent the night wandering the forest, at ease with the quiet companionship. As wolves, their brotherly bond was as strong as ever, unimpeded by secrets and betrayal. As men, the fraternal ties were easier to break. The chasm between them gaped even now, a constant reminder that they’d chosen to travel separate paths. At last Devlin pulled away. Anxiety tightened his gut. “She’ll be angry when I tell her what I am.” He grimaced. “And when I tell her about Cheyenne.” Nicoló nodded. “Perhaps. But she’ll be angrier if you don’t.” The memory of Cheyenne’s savage leap through the air as she attacked Diva made Devlin tighten his fists at his sides. “Cheyenne—” Another twinkle appeared in Nicoló’s eyes, but this one held no hint of amusement. “Cheyenne is my problem. Not yours.”

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***** With her keys in one hand, her purse slung in the other and the wilting cardboard box teetering in the crook of her elbow, Ava went through her mental checklist as she took one last look at the interior of the cottage. The few items of clothing she owned were once again packed neatly away in the suitcase leaning against the wall. The bright pink cover of The Diva’s Handbook seemed to mock her from inside the box she carried. Everything else she’d left here for fear of bringing a piece of him with her. If there was one thing she’d learned from her last experience, it was that she had to make a clean break. “Here I go again,” she muttered low under her breath. Another failure to add to her long list of botched attempts at happiness. This should have been so simple. The cottage was supposed to be a much-needed haven, an oasis in the tumultuous reality of middle age. Instead, she’d found passion and excitement, a man who could make her toes curl and a heartache that seemed to penetrate deep into the bones of her rib cage and rest there like a bruise that might never heal. “Don’t be stupid, Ava.” Too late for that. She took a deep breath and prepared to open the front door. She’d waited until mid-morning, knowing she couldn’t face the penetrating darkness that could be hiding a bloodthirsty beast lurking behind her car. At least in the daytime she could see the threat long before it became unavoidable. At the first sight of fur, she was ready to bolt back into the cottage and call for help. Luckily the phone worked just as well as the electricity. With any luck, it wouldn’t come to that. She’d simply open the door, march right out to her car and seal herself behind the wheel. After some much-needed sleep at a hotel, she’d be able to think clearly about what she wanted to do with the cottage.

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Sell it most likely when Devlin’s lease was up. She could try to evict him, but he had a potentially valid contract and she wasn’t looking forward to facing another courtroom. She cracked the door open an inch and peered outside. Fresh morning air seeped through the opening into the cottage and filled her lungs with the aroma of dew and sweet flowers. Regret formed a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to leave, but what choice did she have? A wolf had attacked her. And in her vulnerable state, she’d managed to fall for a man who had more secrets than the CIA. The danger to her heart and her body was too great. She needed time away. Time to think without the scent of Devlin’s body permeating the air and addling her already frazzled mind. Without the look in those depthless sapphire eyes demanding she submit to his desire to claim her, possess her. Love her. Opening the door a little wider, she took a quick inventory of the front porch. No lurking shadows, no fur, no eyes—sapphire-colored or otherwise. The route to her car looked clear. Before she could take a step forward, movement caught her eye from the edge of the forest. As she watched, leaves and branches parted to reveal a lean, tanned, naked physique. One she’d recognize anywhere. Devlin stopped at the edge of the property line. Half shrouded in the forest’s shadows, he looked wild and feral, a cross between a muscular mountain man and a naked model ripped from the cover of one of those spicy romance novels she’d seen in bookstores. He stared at her, pinning her in place with those piercing blue eyes. Even from thirty feet away, she could make out the heat in his gaze. An answering longing swept through her, curling down her veins to peak at the apex between her thighs. The moment he began to move toward her, she should have stepped back into the safety of the cottage and bolted the door. Every logical instinct she possessed screamed 101

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at her to get back in there, to keep a solid barrier between them. Yet neither her body nor her mind were willing to listen. The man was dangerous—she could see that from any distance. And he was naked, for God’s sake! In plain daylight. He wound his way down the pebbled surface of the driveway and stepped onto the front porch looking as comfortable as though he were strolling through the privacy of his bedroom. Or hers. She gulped hard at the thought. The box slipped from her arms, crashing loudly to the floor. Neither Ava nor Devlin paid it any attention. Their gazes had locked from the moment she’d seen him, and neither seemed willing to look away. He stopped only inches in front of her. Heat rolled off his body, enveloping her in his natural odor and the faint tang of sweat, musky but not unpleasant. The throbbing in her cunt intensified, causing her nipples to pebble. “You stayed.” “I’m leaving.” They’d spoken at once, the words overlapping yet clearly discernible. Ava pressed her lips tightly together. Devlin narrowed his eyes. “I have something to tell you.” She shook her head. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You left me last night, practically threw me to the wolves.” She laughed at that, but the chuckle sounded highpitched and nervous even to her own ears. He took another step forward, closing the distance between them. His cock pressed against her stomach, daring her to back away. “Are you sure about that?” Ava licked her suddenly dry lips. Memories of their time together had been running through her head all night. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes for longer than a few minutes without seeing the lean lines of his muscular physique blurring with the sleek fur of the wolf who’d come to her rescue. Apparently, the evening’s events

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had been more traumatic than she’d thought. She needed to get away from here, clear her head. “I watched you leave. I followed you out there, but by the time I got to the porch, you were gone.” The wind picked up, ruffling his hair so it fell over his eyes. He didn’t bother to push the stray locks away. Instead, he reached up and cupped her face then trailed the tip of his thumb over her lower lip. The movement was so precise, so sensual it speared her with a combination of yearning, terror and, against all odds, comfort. Guided by instinct alone, she steadied herself by placing her open palms against his shoulders. It was all she could do not to let her knees buckle. Devlin slid his other hand down the length of her spine, cupping her buttocks through her jeans. His fingertips nudged her slit, sending another wave of heat to throb in her pussy. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple then whispered in her ear, “Do you trust me?” She went in search of a reply from the dozens that jettisoned to the forefront of her mind. No. Maybe. Why should I? “God help me,” she murmured at last, “I do.” He released a deep breath as though he’d been holding it while waiting for her answer. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back inside the cottage and slammed the door closed behind him. “Give me eight hours.” Concentrating had become nearly impossible with him standing so close. She shook her head in an effort to clear it. “To do what?” He’d begun leading her toward the bedroom. She followed on clumsy feet, kicking off her shoes before stepping into the carpeted hallway. “You may not want to know anything about me—” “That’s not—”

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He turned in the doorway and pressed his index finger to her lips. “Shh… You don’t owe me an explanation.” The teasing lilt of his lips made heat creep into her cheeks as she recognized her own words. She tried to smile back, but it was a shaky attempt at best. “If you agree to this, you’ll be mine for the next eight hours.” He cupped her mound in the palm of his hand, ripping a gasp from her throat. “Mine to please.” His expert fingers had the snap of her jeans undone. “Mine to fuck.” This time, the contact was skin on skin, propelling a shiver to travel from the top of her hair to the tips of her toes. “And you, beautiful, have no choice but to listen to me talk as I pleasure you. Does that sound fair to you?” His hand burrowed deeper against the crotch of her panties, cupping her pussy, trapping and caressing it. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the hot stream of sensations coursing through her. Devlin wanted to spend eight hours—which at the moment seemed like a veritable lifetime of bliss—bringing her to the heights of ecstasy. And all he asked for in return was a chance to tell her about himself? Writing the Diva columns had kept Ava in touch with modern dating experiences. She knew all about men who wanted to spend time talking about themselves, but she’d never heard of one who wanted to do it while focusing all his attention on his lover. “Yes,” she said just before his mouth found hers. His tongue parted her lips, delved inside. She sighed and melted against him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, tangling her fingers in his hair. For the next eight hours she could pretend she was a real Diva, a woman who spent more than just one day enveloped in a rapturous, carnal fantasy. A woman who was worthy of a man like Devlin. From now until nightfall, she’d be his toy. He could do whatever he wanted to her and she’d let him. God help her, she’d let him. 104

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Then…she’d leave.

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Chapter Eight A Diva can have a one-night stand with any man who catches her fancy. The real test comes on the second night. And there shouldn’t be a second night unless the first time was all about her. Sex is rarely blissful and flawless. It’s messy, wild, raw. But it should never—ever—be all about him. If a man cares only about his own release, he’s not worthy of a repeat encounter. Run far away, Diva, and count your blessings. He wasn’t worth it. —Excerpted from The Diva’s Handbook

Devlin led Ava by the hand into the bedroom. His footsteps were even, sure, completely at odds with her shaky breaths and quivering limbs. She told herself there was no reason to be worried. After all, she’d written about the act of slow, soft, sensual lovemaking enough times to imagine what it was like, even if she hadn’t experienced it for herself. Oh yes, she knew what was coming. Devlin would begin by laying her down on the bed and stripping her, carefully caressing every inch of bare skin he revealed. Then he’d bury his head between her legs and bring her to repeated orgasm with his skilled fingers, tongue and lips. After that— “Can you carry these?” Before she could reply, Devlin thrust two pillows into her arms. She oomphed as she grabbed them. Confused, Ava peered above the fluffy mounds in time to see him yank the plaid covers off the bed. “And these,” he said, adding the blanket to her stack. 106

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Annoyance began to replace her bafflement. Where was the ecstasy he promised her? The abundance of overwhelming bliss? “I didn’t know I’d been relegated to pack mule.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness that tinged her voice. To add fuel to her growing vexation, Devlin chuckled. “Trust me, you’ll need those.” He opened the top drawer of the dresser that stood near the window and pulled out another comforter, one she hadn’t seen before. Black and thick, it looked more than capable of keeping someone warm on frigid winter nights. Heat streamed through her body as she imagined Devlin lying naked beneath the downy comforter. A split-second later, her mind conjured an image of herself tucked into the crook of his arm, slumbering after a frenzied night of raw, unabashed fucking. She doubted they’d need the comforter to keep them warm in that case. Devlin tucked his own bundle beneath the crook of his arm and grabbed her hand. “Come.” “Wait.” She dug her heels in, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. “Where are we going? I thought—” He closed the distance between them and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. She nearly melted at the contact. “You thought right. But we’re doing this on my terms, remember? And if you’re going to learn more about me, you need to be with me.” Ava shook her head. “I am with you.” “No, not here. You need to be outside, to feel what I feel.” “Outside?” She raised an eyebrow and shot a quick glance to the bedroom window. The sun was out today. No clouds dotted the clear blue sky, but at this time of the year there was always a slight chill in the air that didn’t exactly make this ideal picnic weather. “Will you argue with me for the rest of the day, or will you come?”

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“I’ll…” She faltered for a moment then licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’ll come. But you’re going to put on some clothes if we’re going out there.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Who do you think will see me?” Her gaze latched on to his. “Who knows? The birds maybe. Or…the wolves.” Devlin closed the distance between them and grabbed her shoulders in his strong hands. “They won’t bother you again. I swear it.” She swallowed hard and fought back a shudder. She could picture the vicious fangs glistening in the night, the sleek body leaping through the air. “You can do that?” The muscles and sinew along his powerful arms strained. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the hard determination in his eyes. “That and a lot more.” As she watched him, slack-jawed, he pulled away and slipped on a pair of jeans. Once again, he didn’t bother with underwear. Despite the trickle of alarm still coursing through her, she couldn’t help but be absurdly grateful for that little quirk. Outside, the day delivered just what she’d expected. Balmy weather with a noticeable breeze that crept in beneath her long-sleeved shirt and grazed her skin with brisk tendrils. “This way,” Devlin said after locking the door. He pointed toward the path to the left of the cottage, which was mostly hidden by tall bushes growing wild around the pebbled driveway. She nodded and followed, anticipation building in her bloodstream with every step. Devlin was obviously more familiar with the area than she was. As they walked, he told her how taken he’d been with the untamed environment when he’d arrived here. He’d made a point of learning his surroundings, right down to being able to name most of the plants that grew wild along the path. “Oh yeah?” Ava teased as they crept up a slowly winding path. “What’s that one?” He bent down and plucked a tall-stemmed yellow flower from the stony ground. “A dandelion.”

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She laughed, the sound careening off the nearby rock formations then waited while he tucked the dandelion behind her ear. “My favorite.” The abundant leaves of trees growing tall overhead had only begun to turn red, causing a sharp contrast of luscious green and bright burgundy in the thick foliage. Sunlight sprinkled down between the branches, dappling the path. Coniferous trees stood like silent sentinels, bordering the twisting trail on either side. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “I hadn’t known.” “It’s home now,” Devlin said, squeezing her hand tighter. “Just as much as the cottage. And more than Yellowstone ever was.” After that, they walked in silence for a while, Ava struggling to keep pace with Devlin’s long legs. She had no idea where he was leading her, but she followed, trusting him. If needed, she knew she wouldn’t have a difficult time finding her way back. They hadn’t veered off the main path, and even though the trail looked to be seldom used, she could still make it out among the scraggly grass and jutting rocks. Sharply, Devlin veered right. Ava stumbled to keep up as he changed direction yet again, to the left this time. Just when she was beginning to worry about not being able to find her way back after all, he stopped. “Let me have those.” She extended her arms, offering him the bundle she’d been carrying. He laid the blanket on the ground—a surprisingly rock-free patch of still-green grass—tossed the pillows on top and finished the makeshift bed by spreading the comforter on top. Then he reached for her and Ava’s heartbeat quickened. Warmth seeped at the juncture of her thighs. She pressed her legs together to quell the sharp need. Ah, now she understood. He wanted to make love to her outdoors with the fresh air drifting over sweat-slicked skin and the clear blue sky keeping watch. Excitement twisted in her belly.

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That was fine by her. Out here, in this remote part of the Tug Hill Region, she doubted there was even the slightest chance someone might come upon them. And if someone did…well, that just made things so much more exhilarating. How far you’ve come, Mrs. McLaughlin. If your friends could see you now… She bit back a smile and turned to face Devlin, her fingers already reaching for his waistband. Her confidence returned with every moment that passed out here in the wilderness. And it felt good. Damn good. “Now what?” “Now you let me take control.” He lifted his hand. Something dangled from his fingers. Rope. She couldn’t read his smile, not entirely, but she thought she saw a hint of irony in the tilt of his mouth. “My brother gave me this, just before I came for you this morning. He said I might need it. I decided older brothers are wise about some things, even if they can be real stubborn mules about others.” Her heart skipped a beat then knocked hard into her rib cage. “You can’t be serious.” But he was. Without commanding her to do anything else, he took charge. Grabbing her wrists, he tugged her along the few footsteps it took for Ava to reach the massive trunk of a fir tree. Her back knocked against the bark, its sharp edges scraping her skin through her long-sleeved shirt. She bit back a small cry as Devlin yanked her hands behind her and made quick work of tying her wrists. Her breath came out in harsh, uneven gasps. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Pleading wouldn’t work. Neither would logic or clear-headed reasoning, even if she could make sense of her jumbled thoughts long enough to form coherent sentences. Whatever he intended to do to her out here in the middle of nowhere would happen— whether she wanted it to or not.

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Devlin stepped back into full view. He stopped in front of her, crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her from head to toe. “You said you trusted me. Do you still?” She swallowed hard. Her fingers tingled, but the cramp didn’t spread up her arm as she’d expected. He’d tied the knots loose enough that she could still flex her hands, and the rope didn’t chafe her skin when she yanked against it. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “You said you haven’t seen your brother in years… Why are you doing this?” “Because I need you to listen.” The sight of his unexpected grin made her stomach flip-flop. Damn him for looking so handsome when she needed to think. “And because I want you at my mercy for as long as you’re willing to stay. After tonight, everything may change.” The smile disappeared. “Everything will change. How much is up to you.” “Let me guess. You’re a mass murderer after all.” She’d meant to deliver the accusation lightly, as a joke. It came out completely deadpan. “As I said, a hunter. No more.” Her blood ran cold. And yet, everything she knew about him told her he wouldn’t harm her. But did she dare trust her instincts? He stepped close enough for his scent to tease her senses. Her body responded with a sharp, immediate need. Moisture slicked her labia and her nipples pebbled. Knowing him, he’d probably be able to smell her arousal. Damn the infuriating man! She had no idea what to think. Leaning in close, he nipped at the exposed skin of her neck. A trembling shiver ran through her. “Last chance, Diva. If you want to go, I’ll untie you. You can leave this place. The cottage. Me.” He said the last word so softly she barely heard it. The way his voice shook tore another notch in her defenses. “But if you stay—” “Dev—”

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“If you stay,” he repeated, louder this time, “you’ll listen to everything I have to say. More importantly, you’ll ask me questions. I’ll answer every one, but I swear to you, Diva, you will ask. And then you’ll make up your mind, knowing what you’ll know. What will it be?” Ava hissed out a breath as Devlin’s hand drifted to her breast. His fingertips grazed her stiff nipple. She was leaving anyway, wasn’t she? What difference did it make if she left now or later? Assuming there would be a “later”… Tears swam in her vision. Energy swirled through her, determined and insistent, entirely attuned to him. Every nerve ending in her body was on high alert, and all she wanted to do was lean into his touch, let him fill his hands with her. “God help me, Dev…” She bit her lip, more uncertain than ever. “I’m…scared.” He cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up so she could see his eyes. What she found there took her breath away. This wasn’t the gaze of a man intent on hurting her. It was the look of a vulnerable man, a man who wanted desperately to convince his lover to stay with him. “I know,” he whispered. “So am I.” Something tore inside her. It broke loose from the deepest recesses of her heart and flew away, like a bird freed from a dark cage. She inhaled sharply, letting the brisk air wipe away any last trace of doubt. “Tell me.” And he did. Slowly, while he took off her shoes, he told her about growing up in Yellowstone with others who lived apart from the rest of humanity. As he removed her socks, he told her of his brother Nico, of their abrupt parting and of how much he missed him. And then, as he unzipped her jeans and slid them down her hips, he told her of himself. “I traveled here on foot, you know. All the way from Wyoming.”

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The wind whipped Ava’s hair around her face, but she barely felt the chill. Devlin’s hands on her legs warmed her entire body. She gaped at him. “Why?” It took more out of her to utter that simple question than she’d expected. The word lodged in her throat, but she knew it needed to be said. When it was out there, floating between them as fragile as the strand of a spider web, Devlin looked up at her and smiled. That smile nearly stopped her heart. “I don’t drive.” She quirked an eyebrow as she lifted her feet from the ground, allowing him to slip the jeans off, one leg at a time. “You’ve never heard of planes? Trains? Hitching a ride?” He chuckled. “I’ve heard of those things, sure. But until two years ago, I wouldn’t have known a plane from a cell phone.” Ava listened to the wind sweeping through the trees, making the pine needles murmur. Her thoughts tumbled across one another as she tried to make sense of everything he’d told her. “I didn’t even see a bicycle anywhere. How do you get into town? It’s a fair distance.” He shrugged. “I run.” A chill ran down her spine. Something nudged the back of her mind. It was there— the revelation she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She could almost grasp it if she thought about it hard enough. More questions. That’s what it would take to get to the truth of Devlin’s mysterious existence. “You understand, don’t you?” Devlin swept his broad hands up her thighs, parting them. He kneeled before her, his mouth even with her pussy. She didn’t. Not yet. But she knew she was about to. Tilting her head back, she let it rest against the trunk and looked up at the sky through a patch of foliage above her head. Impossibly blue without a shimmer of a

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cloud to mar its perfect beauty, it looked as if it stretched on forever. Being here, like this with Devlin—Manhattan suddenly seemed very far away. When Devlin’s lips made contact with Ava’s hip, a quick flash of a hot, desperate need surged through her. She arched her spine and thrust her hips forward. His palms cupped her buttocks and he brought her mound closer to his mouth. She looked down to find sunlight blazing a path through his dark hair. Out here in the wilderness, he looked even more feral and predatory than he’d seemed back at the cottage. His gaze never shifted from her face. Light glinted in his blue eyes, highlighting the determination and hungry need there. She should have been afraid. She knew that with every fiber of her logical being. But she wasn’t. Instead, lust grew inside her, stretched to encompass her entire body— from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She burned with it. “Touch me.” God, was that her voice, so desperate and husky? His lips moved down, traveling slowly from her hip to the top of her mound. He grabbed the waistband of her cotton panties with his teeth and dragged them down in one sudden move. The fabric scraped her thighs. She winced but quickly relaxed when he kissed the abrasion away. Need throbbed in her pussy. Devlin’s fingers moved from her ass to part the fleshy folds of her cunt, opening her to his hungry gaze. “The women of my pack are nothing like you. There’s so much softness here.” To punctuate his words, he swept his tongue through her slit. Unable to stifle the moan that escaped her lips, Ava gave in. Her chest heaved with the force of her breathing. Her nipples, still tightly bound by the bra and long-sleeved shirt she’d worn that morning, ached as they stiffened, begging to be touched. “You mentioned the pack before… What is that?”

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She held her breath, waiting for his answer. Apparently, the man wouldn’t be rushed. His hot, wet tongue speared her pussy. It parted her folds, sought the entrance to her channel and delved in with short, smooth strokes. Ava’s fingernails dug into her palms. She whimpered and wiggled against her bonds, which kept her from burying her hands in his hair and tugging him closer— close enough to feast on her pussy for an eternity. He thrust harder. His thumb found her clit. Ava’s mind swirled with myriad thoughts. Sensations speared her body, taking her to the brink of ecstasy. Something held her back from going over the edge. A thought nagged at her mind. Images of a black wolf sleeping on a plaid comforter overlapped snapshots of Devlin’s hard body, his stealthy grace, his strong, animalistic bearing. He sucked one of her pussy lips into his mouth, nipped it with his teeth. Ava gasped and rocked her hips. Her spine curved and her back rubbed against the trunk. She needed so much more! As abruptly as he’d begun, he pulled back. She nearly sobbed from the loss of his mouth on her overheated cunt. “Ask me what you really want to know.” He flicked her clit with his index finger, lightly enough to send a jolt of lightning through her veins but not so hard to take her over the edge. She quivered with need. Damn the man for being so good! “Are you…?” She licked her lips, feeling foolish. What she really needed was to come, not to stand here, bound to a stupid tree, playing twenty questions with a man who— A man who… She frowned. No. It wasn’t possible. She wouldn’t ask such a silly question.

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Devlin straightened to his full height. He shucked his jeans in the span of a brief second then moved to stand in front of her. His cock speared the air, hot and hard and heavy. For her. She could see the blue vein snaking up to the tip. Her mouth practically watered with the desire to taste him again. When he cupped her ass in both of his broad palms, she groaned. The sound resonated through the forest, startling a bird into flight. Ava flinched. She hadn’t realized it had been so loud. Her perceptions seemed off, jumbled and out of sorts. Devlin lifted her legs, held her up using the sheer strength of his arms then positioned her pussy over the tip of his cock. Her breath lodged in her chest as she glanced down at the point where their genitals brushed against each other. Her thighs trembled. The man was completely out of her league. Firm and toned and gorgeous, whereas she was…none of those things. Swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The movement pushed the tip of his cock inside her. She flexed her inner muscles, welcoming him, and was rewarded by a muscle jumping in Devlin’s jaw. “Ask me, Diva.” She couldn’t. She wouldn’t! To keep from forming the words, Ava grabbed her bottom lip between her teeth. She gnawed on it while she ground her hips, eager to take more of him inside her. Devlin’s fingers never stopped moving. They caressed her ass, her hips, then moved down to where her folds wrapped around his shaft. He parted her, touched her, worshipped her with his hands. And still he refused to give her any more of his cock. The heat of his body ignited the flames in her own. She needed him. Wanted him. But at what cost?

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She closed her eyes. It would be easier not to look into his dark, piercing orbs when she asked. She didn’t want to see the ridicule there. Or worse, the relief. “Are you…?” He pushed inside her another fraction of an inch. A reward for good behavior perhaps. The walls of her pussy squeezed around him, clenching and unclenching as she reveled in the way he stretched her, widening her, preparing her for the rest of him. “Continue.” She gulped a breath of clean air. Her pussy trembled. Her clit ached. The hard points of her nipples scraped against her bra, sore now from their neglected state. “The wolf who stayed with me. The one who saved me. That was you, wasn’t it?” She spoke fast, the words tumbling all over themselves, hardly making sense in her own mind. And at the same time making too much sense. She’d barely stopped speaking when he thrust inside her, giving her everything he’d been holding back. Hard. Fast. Furious. She refused to open her eyes. She clung to the tree trunk as though her life depended on it, receiving every precise thrust of his massive cock. Her clit burned when it rubbed against the curls at his groin. She arched her spine and slammed against him as he took her, his voice searing a path straight into her mind. “I am the wolf. He is me.” His words were labored, frantic. “You and I…we have a connection… You feel it, don’t you?” She didn’t know what she felt, aside from the stream of raw sensation cascading through her veins. The man was clearly insane. She shouldn’t be here with him. The risk she was taking was much too big. It was too dangerous. To you? Or to your heart?

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She wished the nagging voice in the back of her mind would shut up already. It was bad enough she was tied to a tree, being fucked by a madman. A madman she’d fallen for. Ecstasy lanced her clit at that realization. It flooded her body with adrenaline, spurred her on. She fucked him back as hard and deep as he fucked her, giving him all of her—and more, bits and pieces of pure carnal desire she didn’t know she possessed. She came on a piercing cry. Her limbs shook as her muscles tensed with euphoria. Bliss streamed through her in raw, scorching waves. She rode the violent tide with no thought for anything but the man who’d brought her such rapture. His name echoed through the forest. The sound carried her voice. When she opened her eyes, she found him watching her. The intensity on his features frightened her. His lips were drawn tight, his eyes wide and glistening. His arms were corded, muscles rippling. And then she felt it—the heat shooting a bolt of electricity deep in her pussy. He came quietly, filling her with his seed as he watched her face. No moans and groans. No cries of ecstasy. Just an emptying of himself in her. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. He was giving himself to her. His seed as well as his body, his cum as well as his heart. She knew it as well as she knew her own name. Diva. Queen of denial.

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Chapter Nine When you marry, Divas, always marry for love. Money, security, comfort, mind-numbing sex—all those things are wonderful. But without love to bind them together, you’ve got nothing. If you have to make a choice between love and all the other wonderful things in the world, choose with your heart. Let your soul guide you in the right direction. Let your deepest desires lead the way. Your decision may terrify you. You may wonder whether you’ve gone mad, whether you’re giving up too much to be with the one you love. Only you can truly ever know the answers to those difficult questions. But understand this, and take comfort in it—you’ll never go wrong if you trust your heart. —Excerpted from the extended and fully revised edition of The Diva’s Handbook

Soon the moon would be close enough to touch. Not literally, of course. In reality it would still remain two hundred thousand miles away, a distant dot of light just above the fluorescent pink horizon. To Devlin, however, it might as well descend within arm’s reach. Even though he’d barely be able to spot it through the oak leaves and pine branches overhead, he’d know it was there. He could feel its ferocious pull even now, that strong tug at his soul that told him he was about to leave the world of men. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay just as he was, beneath the downy comforter with his head propped on a pillow and Diva snuggled close in his arms. She hadn’t left him. But she would, just as soon as he forced her to face the truth of his existence. For all he knew, she could still be denying the validity of her realization. Of his confession.

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What she hadn’t denied had been the connection between them. After they’d made love, he’d untied her. Then he’d carried her to the makeshift bed where he laid her down and wrapped her in the warmth of the comforter. She’d wanted more. To his immense delight, she hadn’t been too shy to show him how much delight she took from his body. For his part, Devlin had been more than happy to oblige. They came together again in utter silence as the forest stirred and the wind whistled a soft tune just for them. He’d stared deeply into her eyes. For once, she hadn’t closed them. Hadn’t shut herself away behind those impenetrable walls she’d erected around her soul. He’d buried himself in her soft heat, feeling every beat of her heart as though it were his own. He could feel those heartbeats still. She lay in the crook of his arm, her head propped on his chest. The tip of her index finger traced a light path from his navel to his groin and back again. Little tingles of something akin to happiness twirled in his belly just beneath the surface of her touch. “How does it work?” Devlin’s breath left him in a rush. Those four words were the first she’d spoken in hours. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Pretending not to understand what she meant might buy him a few more minutes of bliss. He considered that thought for a moment before discarding it. He knew what it cost her to ask such a question. He wasn’t about to punish her for it. “At the exact moment moonset occurs, the shift takes over. I have no control over it. None of my kind do.” Diva lifted her head from his chest and propped it on her hand, which was supported by her elbow. Her green eyes glowed in a way he barely recognized. He’d never seen that look in her gaze before.

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Curiosity. Interest. Inquisitiveness. All those things lit up her face. “Does it hurt?” “A little,” he admitted. “I’ve grown used to it. Stretching helps in the morning when I return to my human shape.” She shook her head. A glimpse of fear and uncertainty replaced her earlier absorption in the topic. “You think I’m mad.” The corner of her mouth tilted slightly. “I think we’re both a little unstable.” He grabbed her hand, tangled his fingers with hers. “Let me show you. It won’t be long now.” As though becoming aware of her surroundings for the first time in a while, she cast a worried glance around her. “It is getting dark. Perhaps we should head back.” “A few minutes more. Please.” As fate would have it, neither of them had to wait that long. As soon as Devlin finished speaking, he felt the beginning of the shift ripple through him. He stood on shaky limbs, putting as much distance between them as he could bear. When the transformation hit, the change would occur quickly. There would be no time for Diva to change her mind. She’d watch him and know once and for all he spoke the truth. Darkness swept in, the last of the day’s sunlight fading on a wink. The moon and the unearthly glow on the horizon illuminated enough of the glade that he was certain she could see him. All of him. His skin prickled. A hundred unseen fingers danced down his flesh, bringing with them a torrent of microscopic waves. Diva sat cross-legged on the blanket, the edge of the comforter pulled up beneath her armpits. The fabric covered her breasts. He wished he could see her beautiful, lush body one more time.

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And then the breath rushed out of his lungs. Bones contracted while others expanded, fur sprouted where no hair had been and his mouth elongated into a muzzle. It all happened in the blink of an eye. The scents of the forest became sharper, more acute. He could smell everything— from the pungent scent of a bird’s nest to Diva’s delectable arousal and the intoxicating scent of their union, which still perfumed the air. His point of view changed. Whereas only seconds ago he was looking down at her, now he stood level with her. He could see her face clearly in the liquid moonlight. She looked— Awed. There was no other word to describe the expression on her beautiful features. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth parted on a delicate O of surprise. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t. He was afraid to move. Afraid to scare her. Afraid to lose her. “Dev?” She reached out her hand. Inexplicably, that simple gesture washed away his fears. Devlin trotted to her, his paws sinking into the soft blanket. When she touched his head, his entire body trembled. He opened his mouth. The tip of his tongue touched her hand. She didn’t jump or pull away. Instead, she surprised him yet again. She smiled. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice carrying on the breeze. He wagged his tail, stupidly pleased by the simple compliment. Only days ago she’d been terrified of him. He’d expected her to run once again. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, especially after her encounter with Cheyenne. Diva stared at him thoughtfully for a long moment as her hands smoothed back his fur. The comforter slipped out from beneath her armpits and pooled across her lap. 122

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Without hesitation, Devlin’s tongue swept out and scraped across the side of her neck, just below her earlobe. Diva’s silvery giggle filled the air. Her breasts jutted out, jiggling as she laughed. “You’re something else, Devlin No-Last-Name.” Her scent intensified, heavy on the cool breeze. He could smell her arousal, her anticipation. Her acceptance. And it damn near made him grow wings. The bliss cramming his veins threatened to blow him up like a balloon. He could have soared with the birds in the sky. Only her light touch on the top of his head kept him grounded. She peered into his eyes, her own crinkling up at the corners from her broad smile. “Take me home, Devlin. I have a million questions for you. They’ll keep, though, until tomorrow morning—at which point you better be prepared for a long discussion.” You’ll stay. Stay. Stay. The connection binding them seemed to tighten around him. He couldn’t make sense of anything else but the fact that she’d called the cottage not a house but a home. Their home. I love you, he thought. She gave the fur on top of his head one last scrunch with the tips of her fingers before rising to her feet. “God help me. I love you too.” Even though he’d known of the connection that would be forged when he shared his body and heart with someone who offered every bit of herself to him as well, the world still titled beneath his feet as the full impact of her words hit him. She’d heard his thoughts as loud and clear as if they’d been her own. It took Diva a moment longer to understand what had just occurred. When she did, she halted with her hand outstretched as she bent over to reach for her discarded jeans. If he could have whistled at the bountiful sight she presented him, he would have.

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Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. “Anything else you want to tell me?” Devlin lifted a lupine shoulder. It didn’t look much like a human shrug, but he tried. Everything. “Huh.” She straightened to her full height and shoved her feet into the denim, another smile playing at her lips. “You know this means you can’t have any secrets from me, don’t you?” He sat on his haunches and watched while she dressed. So beautiful. So lush and feminine and flawless. So totally his. When she finished, her lower lip quivered. She knelt in the grass before him and placed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I’ve never been made to feel that way before.” He cocked his head in silent inquiry. “Pretty,” she said softly. “Wanted.” Devlin leaned into her touch. Simply being here with her, communicating on a whole new level, filled him with a flurry of emotions he’d never before experienced. Silently, he vowed to shower her in those same sensations for the rest of his life. She smiled. A rush of sudden desire clutched at his soul when he saw her face light up. Better get used to it, Diva. You’re in for a lifetime of this. Before she could answer, he stood and pressed his head alongside her cheek. Her skin was soft against his fur. He breathed her in deep then opened himself completely to the link that bound them. His thoughts spiraled, bursting with images. He fed them to her, one at a time, careful not to overwhelm her. He didn’t know how long they stood there like that. He only knew he wanted to show her everything, just as he’d promised. Right here, right now. No more secrets. No more denial. Just raw, indisputable truth.

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When he finished, she pulled away, her fingers fisted in the nape of his fur. Her eyes narrowed. “I think Cheyenne could use a copy of my book.” He searched her thoughts for snippets of narrative. With a wicked grin, she fed them to him one at a time, doling out advice on everything from how to shave the bikini area to the sensual art of performing a striptease for a man’s pleasure. Devlin’s howl filled the night air. Had he been human, he’d have laughed out loud. I’ll tell Nico. Then maybe we’ll deliver a signed copy. You know…as a mating gift. Ava’s smile disappeared as she observed the flashes of images flittering across his thoughts. A private ceremony, right here in this clearing, witnessed only by one other wolf. It wouldn’t change anything between them, but it would cement their commitment to one another. “A mating rite?” Ava asked, incredulous. “But I thought Cheyenne wanted—” Not Cheyenne. He nudged her chin with the top of his head. Us. “Oh.” Her hands framed his face. “In that case…What took you so long to ask?” He raised his jaw in a gesture of mock-defiance. Who says I’m asking? She arched an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know how much you understand about humans, but let me educate you a little. Women don’t appreciate heavy-handed men. Besides, if you’re waiting for me to ask, you should know you’ll be waiting a long time. Questions aren’t my thing.” He bit back another howling laugh. I know, you prefer answers. How’s ‘yes’ then? She lifted her gaze skyward, the pretense etched clearly on her joyful features. Moonlight illuminated the tip of her nose and lit up her cheekbones. Happiness flooded her thoughts, as loud and clear as if she’d screamed the word “yes” loud enough for the pack to hear, thousands of miles away. Umm…Ava?

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She harrumphed even as her lips twitched in a smile she couldn’t hide. “I’m thinking.” I know, baby. I can hear you. The mock creases in her forehead cleared as her grin finally reached her eyes. “Ah, right. In that case…hear this.” The next barrage of impressions she sent him overflowed with sexy, bold images. Uninhibited fantasies, snapshots of her full breasts, curvy hips, sexy belly button, wet pussy. Each sizzling thought promised him new delights, carnal exploits he’d never experienced or even fathomed. “Research,” she said with a small shrug. “My editor always said it would come in handy one day. She was right.”

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Epilogue Ten feet away from Cheyenne, Devlin and his mate held onto one another in an embrace so powerful she could scarcely bear it. The raw display of tenderness scraped at her soul and made her gut clench. She couldn’t watch, yet she made herself stare and memorize every tuft of fur, every nuance of the woman’s smile. Light, love and trust shone from both their gazes. The woman’s grin came easily and the carefree laughter that filled the glade rang out with joy. Devlin and the human female had been lovers first. Then their bond had strengthened until they became mates, as attuned to one another as she and Nico would never be. Nothing Cheyenne did now could change that. Her plan to end the relationship before it even began hadn’t worked. Well, noninterference pack law be damned. She had to do something. Going home without Devlin was not an option. Blood will coat the canyon. The pack will be destroyed. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the stoic wolf who sat beside her. His gaze was fixed on the happy couple, but he didn’t suffer as she did. If anything, relief flooded their fragile bond. Relief, and yes, even a hint of happiness. She scowled inwardly. This wasn’t cause for celebration. Tomorrow, she’d have to take matters into her own hands. She’d be damned if she’d taint her hands with one more speck of pack blood. The crimson sheen of her mother’s gore still stained her palms. She could see it there, in the splotches of red against golden skin that refused to fade no matter how hard she scrubbed. 127

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Tomorrow, she vowed, you’ll be mine. I’ll take both of you if I have to. Beside her, Nico stiffened. He couldn’t have heard her vow, but he would have felt the determination flooding her veins. Well, no matter. Even he couldn’t stop her. No one could.

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About the Author Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams—or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her loving husband and the mischievous cat.

Lacey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Lacey Savage All the King’s Men Fighting Chance Ghostly Awakening I, Nefertiti Wed and Wanton

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