A door cracked open across the hall and an elderly woman stuck her head through the narrow gap. “You okay, Willow, honey? I got the police on speed dial.” She waved the phone like a sword under her second chin.
“No, Mrs. Crenshaw. Everything’s just fine.” Several people in the building knew what happened to Willow, and they now took a special interest in her safety. Sometimes Willow got the feeling they were waiting with bated breath for something else to happen so they could get in on the action.
She shook it off. “This is Ben Anderson. He’s my...”
What, exactly?
“Her fiance.” Ben turned that charming smile at Mrs. Crenshaw, who proceeded to preen and pat the curls in her white hair.
“Oh. Such a handsome young man. Lucky girl.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Ben looked deep into Willow’s eyes. Without waiting for an invitation, he nudged her inside and closed the door against Mrs. Crenshaw’s prying gaze.
Willow walked backwards into the room, hyper-aware of Ben’s advance and the blatant hunger in his eyes. “Fiance, huh?” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
He tossed his jacket onto a chair, his lips curling into a lupine grin. “I didn’t think she’d understand the importance behind the words ‘my mate’.”
She bumped into the wall, effectively halting her retreat. “So you don’t want to marry me?”
“Oh, we’ll be getting married all right.” Ben came closer, pressing his heat all along her body. He laid his forearms against the wall on either side of her head. “I missed you, Will.”
Her tongue darted out to lick dry lips. “Yeah?”
His eyes flicked from her mouth back to her eyes, the dark depths of his pinned her in place, the feel of him surrounding her, melting her into a pool of goo. He was big and gorgeous, seductive and sweet—and all hers.
“Oh, yeah.” He brushed his lips on hers. “Open your mouth.”
“Wha-” His kiss was hot and sinful and deep. So deep. His arms didn’t move from the wall, but his wicked thigh wedged between hers, rubbing against the arousal between her legs.
She yanked her head away, her hands pushing against his shoulder to get air. “How? The mating heat’s gone.”
Another deep kiss. “Told you. The mating heat only ensures mates get together initially, then twice a year to continue the line. What you and I have is more than just chemistry, sweetheart.”
Chemistry that was damn near combustible. She wasn’t sure if the top of her head was still attached. “What more do we have, Ben?”
He nuzzled her temple. “Affection.”
Her eyes started to close. “Affection?”
“I love you, Willow Yancy.”
Her eyes popped back open. “What?’
He reared back, his eyes confused. “I’ve told you I love you.”
“I—I—” Her stupid mouth wasn’t working right. “When?”
He looked at a loss for words. Then he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m sorry. I’ve told you so many times in my head that I thought I already told you out loud.”
She reached under his shirt to twist the little bit of flesh she could grab. “Maybe if you’d told me before I left, I wouldn’t have been so crazed this last week.”
Ben only reached down to take the hand abusing him and kiss each and every finger before holding it, palm open, over his cheek. “I love you so much that I could barely breathe when you were gone.”
Ohhhhhhhhh. Mush. She was so much mush.
“I want you home with me. In Woodcliff.”
“A job—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “I don’t give a flying fig if you ever lift a finger. Just don’t ever leave me again.”
She mumbled under his hand, prompting him to lift it. “What?”
”Dean called and offered me a job. As manager of your ‘hunting lodge’. It certainly won’t be much but then Josh called—”
“Josh Renner? What the hell?” The amber she now knew signaled his wolf was close to the surface started to bleed into his eyes.
“If you’d stop interrupting me, I could tell you.”
Clearly unhappy, he clamped his mouth shut. Amused at him, she slipped her hands around his body to stroke his back under his shirt, knowing he needed the skin-to-skin contact. She needed it as well. “He called to tell me that one of their female physical ed teachers is pregnant. They’ll need a replacement within the next couple of months. Potentially permanently. She’s already hinting about not coming back.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of you spending so much time away from me.”