Her first instinct had been to be angry at him, but then her more practical side had intervened. They didn’t have a relationship, so she had no right to any sort of anger or hurt. The thought that he was actually interested in her had briefly flashed through her mind, but his words upon leaving the shower had squashed that idea. It had just been sex; fulfilling a need they both felt at that moment. Even if it wasn’t the sort of thing she usually did, it obviously was for him. Remaining casual about what happened would be the best course of action. Yes, the sex was good, but now it was time to focus on the real reason she was seeking him out, the interview for Greyson and the money it would bring her.
After finding the makings for some toast in the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered around the house trying to fill her time. She checked out the view from various windows, found it unremarkable, and then decided to investigate the book shelves. Books could tell a lot about a person, she mused as she began to scan the titles. Horrors, mysteries, war stories, ancient history... Which ones were Ryne’s and which ones belonged to the other two?
She pulled out several old leather bound books, their titles barely readable due to age, and sat down to look through them. One was entitled Mythology and Cryptozoology, while another was on Lycanthropy. In the second book, the sections dealing with werewolves were the most worn and someone had made notes in the margins, underlining certain passages. The penmanship was bold, written in black ink, and she wondered if it could be Ryne’s, though the topic didn’t seem like one he’d pursue.
Studying the comments, she chuckled. Words such as ‘idiots’ and ‘as if’ were written near some of the illustrations of werewolves. “Almost got it right’ was penned near a passage about the effects of the full moon and the word ‘allergic but not deadly’ was beside a bit about silver bullets. It almost appeared as if the owner of the book took the topic seriously. She raised her eyebrows at the thought of any intelligent person believing such stuff. Get a life, she muttered. Still, it was interesting that people would devote so much time to create such a realistic myth. Having nothing better to do, she started to read.
It proved to be quite fascinating and she was surprised to hear the sound of voices approaching the house. Mel shoved the books back on the shelf and grabbed her coffee cup. Intent on heading to the door to check on their progress, she took a sip from her cup and grimaced. It was cold. Changing direction, she went towards the kitchen instead. The guys could let themselves in. She needed fresh coffee.
*****
Ryne entered the house and ran his hands through his windswept hair. Typical spring. After an unseasonably warm two weeks, last night’s storm had blown in a cold front. A northerly wind whipped over the land causing the tree branches to sway and the remains of last year’s leaves—still wet from the rain—to blow about, their damp, clammy surface hitting against his legs and face more than once.
Removing the tree hadn’t been very hard work; still he was glad to get back inside. Cold weather didn’t bother him, but he hated the wind. It swirled a myriad of scents around him, confusing him as to the direction of their source. Sound distorted as well and the bits of debris flying by made him over-alert to the movement around him. Yes, all in all, windy days made him feel as if he was losing touch with some of his senses and he didn’t like the experience at all. It made him jumpy and irritable.
Now that he was inside, he could relax again—well almost. He sniffed the air catching the scent of fresh coffee and Melody. When last he’d seen her, she’d still been flushed and smelling of sex. His inner wolf rumbled approval at the idea. He’d had more beautiful and more experienced women, but the sex this morning with Melody had been...different. There was something about her that appealed to him.
Unfortunately, therein lay the danger. The last thing he should be doing was getting involved with a nosey journalist. He needed to keep a clear head around her; watching what he said, analyzing her questions for any hint that she knew what he really was. One slip on his part, or by Bryan or Daniel, and their cover would be blown. If that happened, he knew what he had to do, and being involved with the girl would just make the task all the harder.
This morning—having sex with her—had definitely been a mistake on his part. It hadn’t been planned, but when she’d frowned at him... Well, he wasn’t used to having women frowning while in his bed, let alone in his arms. It was supposed to be just a bit of teasing; a few kisses and caresses—but once he’d started, he hadn’t wanted to stop. Not one used to denying himself, he’d let his lustful wolf take over.