Shadow of the Wolf(4)

He pointed towards the floor. "Strip. Drop your clothes there. I'll be back in a moment with blankets and towels."

She actually growled at him before tugging off the poncho.

Satisfied that she was following his commands, he turned away, heading  into the laundry room for some clean towels. He hadn't had a chance yet  to fold laundry that evening, and now he was grateful for it. He toweled  himself off and tugged on a pair of jeans, hoping that covering himself  would make her more comfortable in his home.

He strode back out into the kitchen and froze, every single thought  driven out of his head. She stood there clad only in simple white  cotton, but that cotton was drenched, clinging to her skin like the  finest silk. He could see the dusky color of her nipples through the  cloth, the thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

One hand went to cover the sweet triangle between her thighs, the other reaching up to cover her breasts. "Towel. Please."

He stalked towards her, putting every ounce of seduction he knew into  it, gratified to see her fingers trembling from more than the cold when  she took the towel from him. "Follow me."

He didn't wait to see if she obeyed him. He led her farther into the  house, towards the fireplace in his great room. With a wave of his hand  and a few muttered words, he lit a roaring blaze guaranteed to warm her  through.

The crystal ball wasn't the only "pre-programmed" spell in the house.

"Great."

He turned to find her glaring at him. He reached behind her to the sofa,  pulling the blanket draped over the back off of it and wrapping it  around her shoulders. "What's great?"



"Nothing."

He could feel one of his eyebrows trying to climb into his hairline. "Why does that tone bother me?"

"You're the wizard. You figure it out."

He settled on the rug in front of the fireplace. "Why do I get the  feeling you're prejudiced against wizards?" And why do I suddenly think  you aren't one? A thought he hadn't entertained. After all, he'd asked  for another wizard for a mate.                       
       
           



       

Hadn't he?

"Maybe because wizards are prejudiced against me." She settled on the  opposite side of the fireplace, her expression wary. He would have to  see what he could do to remedy that.

But for now he would deal with the first issue. "Why would wizards be prejudiced against you?"

She licked her lips, and everything male in him stood at attention. He  didn't hear her reply, too focused on what that pink tongue would feel  like lapping at the head of his now aching cock.

"Hello!" The snapping of her fingers brought his attention back to the  rest of her face. "Do I want to know what you were thinking just now?"

"Do you like chocolate syrup?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Do you like chocolate syrup?"

"Uh, no?"

"Then no."

The wary look was back in her eyes. "Alrighty then. Can I borrow your phone?"

"Borrow my phone? Why?"

"To call for someone to come and pick me up, obviously."

When hell freezes over. "Perhaps after we're dry?"

"I could have them bring over clothes. And I need someone to take a look  at my car. It broke down on the road, and why am I telling a complete  stranger all this? You could be an axe murderer."

He laughed. "I'm not, I promise."

"I'm sure all axe murderers say that right before they break out the axe."

He snorted, thoroughly amused. She was snuggling deeper into the  blanket, the heat warming her through, her teeth chattering less and  less. "Getting a tow truck out here during this storm would be a true  feat of magic."

She sighed and propped her chin on her hand, looking forlorn. He wanted  to snatch her up and cuddle her close, but there was no way she was  ready for that yet. "True."

"Perhaps I could take a look at your car after the storm passes."

"Perhaps you could." She jumped when Alasdair landed in her lap. "Oh!"  She reached out and tentatively petted Alasdair, a delighted smile on  her face. Alasdair, the shameless thing, purred in obvious delight  before settling down. "Your familiar?"

He nodded, hoping his pet would put her at ease in a way Christopher seemed incapable of doing.

She seemed to like the cat, and Alasdair certainly seemed to like her back.

She opened her mouth, her brow furrowed, before shaking her head and clamping her lips closed.

"Go ahead and ask. I promise I won't bite yet."



"Yet?"

He merely smiled. She'd find out sooner rather than later if he had any say in the matter.

"How did you …  I mean, Grammy said that shapeshifters were a myth."

He watched her, the play of emotions over her heart-shaped face. "They are."

"Then, how?"

"How do I become the wolf?" She nodded. "Simple. I'm-"

"Christopher Beckett." Her eyes widened in shock.

He grinned, unable to hold back the feral satisfaction and deep longing  to finalize the cementing of their bond. She knows my name. It really is  her. "Yes."

She shook her head. "How did I know that?"

He needed a diversion. It was too soon to give that part of the game  away. "Would you like some hot chocolate?" The wistful hunger on her  face drove him to his feet. "Enjoy the fire. I'll return mo-mentarily."  He didn't want his new mate catching cold before he'd had a chance to  claim her.

"Don't move; I don't want you getting sick." Besides, he planned on  adding a little something that would ensure she'd still be there come  morning.



*

Lana moved her legs, thinking perhaps it would be better to grab her wet  clothes and make for the hills, but the warm weight of the purring cat  held her in place. Deep gold-green eyes slit open, staring up at her  with lazy arrogance, daring her to move. "Like master like familiar,  huh?"

Speaking of the "master", how in the hell had she known the man's name?  Something was going on here, something that had her magic senses  tingling. The thing was, instead of blaring the warning she expected,  they were, well, tingling. She couldn't get the image of him standing  there, naked, half hard cock dangling between his thighs, his hand held  out, his deep, purring voice demanding that she come to him. And oh boy  had she wanted to come to him.

Was that it? Had the wizard wrapped some sort of lust spell around her?  She shook her head. If he'd wrapped any sort of will-sapping spell  around her he wouldn't be a wizard. He'd be a warlock. And she'd gotten  no sense from him that he was one of those spellcasters. They didn't  exactly have a shiny happy feel to them.                       
       
           



       

No, Christopher Beckett was definitely a wizard.

And what was up with the wonder dog routine, anyway? She needed to call her Grammy, needed to call her now.

She managed to get the irate cat off her lap with only a few minor  scratches to add to the ones she'd picked up in the woods. Wrapping the  blanket closely around her, she tiptoed farther into the room, looking  for a phone.

She was surprised by the look of his home; she'd expected something a  little more traditional in décor. Instead, his kitchen had been done in  warm light cherry wood with slate floors, surprisingly warm under her  bare feet. The countertops and backsplash were warm brown granite that  picked up the colors of the slate tile. The stainless steel appliances  and fixtures added a modern touch. The smaller appliances had all been  cobalt blue; the walls were warm gold, almost the exact shade of  Christopher's eyes.

And the great room? He'd brought that gold color in on the contemporary  armchairs that flanked his pale cream sofa. The cobalt blue she'd seen  in the kitchen was on the walls, the color framing an incredible  stainless steel and glass tile fireplace. The floors were a darker shade  of cherry than the kitchen cabinets, the wooden coffee table and end  tables lighter. She liked it. It was vibrant and warm, like the man  himself.

Gah. She had to get out of here before she actually started liking him.

She found the phone one of the end tables, not far from where they'd  been sitting on the floor. She dialed the number, knowing Grammy would  somehow be expecting her call. Grammy could be a little weird that way.  She always seemed to know when one of her grandchildren needed her.

She wasn't wrong. "Hello, Alannah."

She couldn't help but smile. "Hi, Grammy. Do you know anything about a  wizard family named Beckett?" Grammy's gasp was answer enough. The smile  fled from Lana's face. "Am I in danger?"

"No! Don't  …  don't leave. You're safe where you are."