"I've seen enough to know this one isn't typical." One more sweetly torturous moment, and then he shook out the plastic and angled his chin at something behind her. "Do you have a step ladder back there?"
"Yes. I'll get it." Her nape prickled with awareness as she spun away from him, not the least bit subtle in her need to escape. A powerful urge to run trembled through her. Somehow she resisted, but her muscles felt twitchy, her nerves on edge.
Inside the utility room, she cupped her hands over her mouth and blew out a breath. Like the intruder's motives, her attraction to Jude was something she didn't want to analyze too closely.
In many ways, Jude's magnetism rattled her more than the break-in. Attraction to a man had ultimately forced her into exile from her native Seattle. Now she had a new life. It was still fragile and too dear to jeopardize by indulging her libido.
Shoring up her will to resist her hormones, she grabbed the fold-up step ladder and rejoined Jude. And then she opened her mouth and screwed up all over again as she thoughtlessly asked, "Where do you want me?"
His nostrils flared and, damn it, she looked up into his eyes as they darkened. The heat in his gaze peppered her skin with goose bumps.
Lily bit her lip. "It, I mean where do you want it? The ladder," she amended, but not quick enough.
Jude's focus dropped to her mouth and the smile returned, just a little curve at the corner. "I know what you meant. That's a discussion for another time. For now, hop up and hold a corner of the plastic while I tape it down."
Working together, they covered the door within minutes. The opaque plastic wasn't much of a barrier, but having it in place made her feel less exposed.
"Thank you," she said, stepping down from the ladder.
"Don't." Jude folded the step stool and headed for the utility room.
"Don't thank you?" She called after him.
His powerful shoulders tensed, the muscles in his back flexed, and he broke stride long enough to look back, locking her up in his gaze all over again. "Taking care of you isn't a chore. Don't treat it like it is."
Her jaw dropped, but he was moving again, carrying the ladder like it weighed about as much as a post card. She was still standing by the door when he reappeared.
He looked her up and down, then up again, lingering on her most feminine spots, his strong features softening when he reached her face. "You're worn out. Stretch out for a while. I'll stick around until my guy has the new door put in."
She opened her mouth to tell him that wasn't necessary, but her gaze strayed to the overstuffed couches that decorated her sit and knit area and she suddenly felt the exhaustion Jude had noticed.
Digging deep, she mustered the remains of her energy. "I'm fine. I'll put on a pot of coffee and catch up on some computer work."
"Lily."
His use of her first name, the straightforward authority in his tone, rocked her.
Nothing about his physical appearance had changed but his presence seemed bigger. The force of it filled the store. As she stared at him, ensnared by his commanding eyes, realization dawned.
The tawny hair, the way he filled a room. The way he filled her every time their eyes met. "You're a shifter."
Every muscle in his body coiled. He reminded her of a cat, preternaturally still and watchful. A feline shifter? They existed, of course, but …
"Have you met enough of us that you recognize us by sight?" His expression barely changed-just a slight narrowing of his eyes-but it was enough to stop her from answering immediately.
She'd half-expected him to deny her declaration. Shapeshifters weren't pennies lying on the ground, but their existence had become common knowledge over the past decade. The tabloids had exploded with "insider reports" that claimed different celebrities were shifters who had walked among humans for years. The publicity had created outrage among celebs, but it had also helped ease the masses into accepting that the mysterious creatures weren't slavering beasts intent on devouring humanity whole.
While she was certain plenty shifters lived out their day to day in public-or night to night, as she'd read that many breeds were nocturnal-she'd never encountered one wearing a sign that proclaimed his different genes.
So …
"No," she finally said. "None that I've ever identified as such. I'm sorry I said anything. I shouldn't have. You would've told me if you wanted me to know."
He cocked his head. "I could have hidden myself better if I didn't want you to know. But how did you?"