Ben eased off enough so Willow could sit up, gasping in lungfuls of air, his amber eyes ever watchful as he scanned everyone around them. Willow now saw Caleb behind Marg, Brandon, his best man and one of his deputies, at his side. Both were not only still dressed in their tuxes, but looking hot and sexy as they handcuffed Marg.
“Marg Valens. You’re under arrest for kidnapping, attempted murder, and so many other things—including pissing me off—that I can’t begin to list them.”
Willow leaned back onto a hard fur-covered chest. If Caleb were here, that meant—
“You bitch!” Tess stomped over the ground, her wedding dress hiked over an arm.
“Probably be better to give her to the wolves.” Brandon chuckled.
Barreling down on Marg like an avenging angel, Tess drew back her free arm and slammed her fist into the other woman’s face. Willow gawked as Valen fell like a downed tree. Even as Tess shook her hand she turned around to look for Willow. “You good?”
Not only had Ben come for her, Rome, Caleb, Brandon, and God, Tess. In her wedding dress!
Willow started to laugh. “God, I love you.”
Tess eased, a happy smile curling her lips. “Me too.”
Other people started to show including Scott, Joe, and two police officers actually in uniform. One of them was Zan, who carried clothes in his hand. Willow felt the air thicken and tingle before she caught a glimpse of a naked male body.
Was that Dean? But Ben rounded on her, pushing her back to the ground with his large body so that all she saw was a big, furry, tanned head. He gave her another slow lick along her cheek and she reached out with both hands, grasping the thick fur on his neck. “And I love you, Ben. But we really need to talk about those wolf kisses.”
Epilogue
Ben had given her a week. One short week to figure it all out. Though family and friends had called throughout those seven days, Ben phoned her at least once every day to check in, to tease, to tantalize. And to drive her absolutely crazy. She missed him so much and each conversation only made it worse.
How was she to think about her future when all she thought of was Ben?
The first several days flew by as she was reunited with her adored father, who broke down into sobs of joy when he saw her very much alive and well. Updating each other on what had happened over those missing months filled the beginning of the week.
The fourth and fifth days were filled with the news that Valen and her men were immediately charged with kidnapping and attempted murder of Willow, and murder in the first degree of the elderly couple whose vacation home they’d “rented”. The defense had angled for mental incapacity as Valen appeared disoriented and had screamed uncontrollably at the wolf statue just inside the courthouse foyer. While the two men also in custody hadn’t screamed, they had peed their pants. The third man, the one who’d stayed behind at Tess’s wedding, was missing, and Willow didn’t care to know what happened to him. She did learn from Ben, however, that she would never have to worry about any of them again.
The night before she left Woodcliff she’d warned Ben she would keep no secrets from her father. So on the sixth day she told the first man she ever loved about the man who now held her heart. Ian’s reaction was disconcerting, to say the least. Instead of reaching out for the phone to contact the nearest psychiatrist, he appeared shocked—understandable—then laughed in utter delight—not so understandable.
Then it became Willow’s turn to listen to a story, this one about her great-grandfather, who disappeared into the magical mists and lush green valleys of Ireland after seducing an unwed woman. A woman whose child, Willow’s paternal grandmother, left her homeland to seek solace and anonymity from the veiled whispers and shaming looks.
A descendant of a faery? Yeah, right. There was no such thing.
Just as there was no such thing as a werewolf?
Whoa.
On the seventh day Willow paced her father’s apartment on tenterhooks, rubbing her palms over her long skirt. Her father, bless his wonderful heart, kept everything of hers he could possibly stuff in his own three-bedroom condo. Minus a few worn pieces of furniture she’d bought secondhand, it was all here. Clothes, books, awards, pictures, knickknacks, a bookcase, and even her bedroom set.
Ian Yancy was an incredible man.
The doorbell rang and Willow breathed deep, tugging the hem of her long-sleeved shirt before walking over to let another incredible man into her life.
“Hey.” Ben was all lazy, sexy male. A feast for her adoring eyes.
“Hey, yourself.” Her first inclination was to jump up and wrap herself around him like ivy. But she hesitated, trying to gauge his reaction at seeing her again. After all, he’d never told her he loved her back. It was the only piece holding her back.