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A Werewolf in Manhattan

Page 1

by Vicki Lewis Thompson




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for the Novels of Vicki Lewis Thompson The Babes on Brooms Romances

  Chick with a Charm

  “I love this series! These witchy characters are hilarious. ... I can’t wait to see what Ms. Thompson has in store for her readers next! ... If you have read anything by Ms. Thompson before and liked it, you will like this series too!”—The Romance Studio

  “Vicki Thompson can definitely tell a story that really gets you to know and love the characters. I will be watching and waiting for another one.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “The fast-paced story line is laced with humor, heat, and whimsy that makes for an enjoyable read that is hard to put down.”—Fallen Angel Reviews

  “A funny installment of the Babes on Brooms series, Chick with a Charm delights with zany characters and elegant writing that will make readers want to grab the rest of the series!”—Fresh Fiction

  Blonde with a Wand

  “Extremely readable ... terrific writing, and great character development. ... Readers will fully enjoy this confection.” —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  The Hexy Romances Casual Hex

  “A romantic tale that’s sprinkled with magic and reinforced by love ... a fast-paced read, and a great addition to the enchanting world of Big Knob.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “An enjoyable lighthearted story. ... Fans will enjoy this jocular jaunt.”—Midwest Book Review

  Wild & Hexy

  “An excellent addition that makes me eager for more! ... You never really know what might happen in the small town of Big Knob, but you won’t want to miss a thing. A must read!”—Fallen Angel Reviews

  “There was so much going on in this book that I really didn’t want it to end ... wonderfully fun ... a keeper for sure!”—Fresh Fiction

  “Pure FUN from first page to last!”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  Over Hexed

  “A snappy, funny, romantic novel.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Carly Phillips

  “Filled with laughs, this is a charmer of a book.”

  —The Eternal Night

  “The same trademark blend of comedy and heart that won Thompson’s Nerd series a loyal following.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Thompson mixes magic, small-town quirkiness, and passionate sex for a winsome effect.”—Booklist

  “Vicki Lewis Thompson pens an enchanting tale for her amorous characters.”—Darque Reviews

  Further Praise for Vicki Lewis Thompson and Her Novels

  “Count on Vicki Lewis Thompson for a sharp, sassy, sexy read. Stranded on a desert island? I hope you’ve got this book in your beach bag.”—Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Wildly sexy ... a full complement of oddball characters and sparkles with sassy humor.”—Library Journal

  “A riotous cast of colorful characters ... fills the pages with hilarious situations and hot, creative sex.”

  —Booklist

  “Smart, spunky, and delightfully over-the-top.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “[A] lighthearted and frisky tale of discovery between two engaging people.”—The Oakland Press (MI)

  “Delightfully eccentric ... humor, mystical ingredients, and plenty of fun ... a winning tale.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “A funny and thrilling ride!”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “A hilarious romp.”—Romance Junkies

  “Extremely sexy ... over-the-top ... sparkling.”

  —Rendezvous

  “A whole new dimension in laughter. A big ... BRAVO!”

  —A Romance Review

  Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Chick with a Charm

  Blonde with a Wand

  Casual Hex

  Wild & Hexy

  Over Hexed

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

  Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,

  Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124,

  Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,

  New Delhi - 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632,

  New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,

  Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, January 2011

  Copyright © Vicki Lewis Thompson, 2011 All rights reserved

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  eISBN: 9781101480830

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For my agent, Robert Gottlieb, who challenged me to

  write this story and whose continued support provides a

  lifeline in this wild and crazy business of publishing.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing is always a
pleasure, but thanks to the enthusiastic response from my editor, Claire Zion, it’s also a joy. As a bonus, I get to work with her assistant, the ever-cheerful Jhanteigh Kupihea. I also benefit from the skills of the art department at Penguin, which creates such fantastic covers for my books. On the home front, I’m blessed with my assistant/daughter, Audrey Sharpe, who keeps me from going off the rails, and my spoiled cat, Eve, who keeps me humble.

  Chapter 1

  “Wanting her was dangerous. She was not of his kind, and if she learned what he was, she could put the pack at risk. Yet desire waylaid him each time he caught her scent.”

  Aidan Wallace listened intently as Emma Gavin—her cute, blond self tucked into a red dress—read from her latest book, Night Shift. Emma always kicked off a book tour with a reading in Manhattan, and Aidan had attended the last three. The first two times he’d come as a fan intrigued by this petite twenty-eight-year-old who seemed to have an uncanny understanding of werewolves. Most writers got it all wrong.

  But her accuracy had a downside. For this Wednesday night event, he wasn’t here as a fan. Instead he was attending in his role as chief security officer for the Wallace pack. Howard Wallace, the alpha and Aidan’s father, worried that a rogue werewolf might have been feeding Emma information. If she’d made contact with somebody on the inside, that kind of leak had the power to destroy the pack.

  Three months ago, Howard had directed Aidan to put her under twenty-four-hour surveillance. So far he’d turned up nothing, but his father wanted him to stay on the job. When Emma left on her book tour, Aidan would follow, although trailing her from place to place without being spotted would test his skills.

  He would manage. With business interests that stretched from Park Avenue to Broadway, from Wall Street to Times Square, the Wallaces couldn’t afford a security breach. New York City tolerated a diverse population, but even New Yorkers might panic if they learned that a sizable chunk of the city was owned by werewolves.

  “She wanted him, too. Her breathing changed and her pupils widened whenever he was near.” Emma paused and ran her tongue nervously over her lips. She never seemed at ease during these events.

  That didn’t surprise him. After observing her for three months, he knew she’d rather have been alone in her loft, curled up in a cozy chair with a book or her laptop. Besides, she had to be exhausted after pulling that all-nighter to meet today’s deadline for the next book in the series.

  Aidan figured that if she was getting inside info from the werewolf community, she would have contacted her source sometime during the past few days, and most definitely last night, when she was pushing toward the finish. She hadn’t. So what explained the on-target nature of her stories? Lucky guesses?

  Aidan had pondered that while reading Night Shift recently. He’d been privy to an advance copy because his father and the publisher were old drinking buddies. No wonder Emma had chosen this passage for tonight’s presentation. It captured the basic appeal of the series—a takeoff on Beauty and the Beast that had fans sacrificing grocery money to buy her books in hardcover.

  The fantasy of a male werewolf mating with a human female was a popular one. Aidan would like to believe he wasn’t drawn to it, that he viewed the subject intellectually. That wasn’t quite true.

  But tonight, with Emma standing there in a silk dress, which lovingly draped over her breasts and hips, he couldn’t allow himself to fantasize. His groin tightened, and he glanced away, irritated with his automatic response to her. Arousal was a reaction he couldn’t afford, especially given his genetic flaw: Unsatisfied arousal caused him to begin to shift.

  He concentrated on the uncomfortable nature of the metal folding chair. The manufacturer hadn’t created this chair with a six-four, two-hundred-pound werewolf in mind. The seat was too small and the back, too low. Mentally complaining about the chair did the trick, and he was able to return his attention to Emma.

  She stood in front of a table stacked high with her books, and a young brunette in a black suit hovered nearby. Aidan pegged her as somebody from the publishing house who’d come along to facilitate the signing gig.

  “If he took her, there would be no turning back. A werewolf mated for life.”

  As would he. The crown prince of the Wallace pack was expected to choose well and cement either a financial or political alliance with one of the other great werewolf families based in North America. His brother, Roarke, might have more leeway, but Aidan’s path was preordained.

  Barring some misstep, he’d end up with Nadia Henderson, daughter of Leland Henderson, alpha leader of the pack based near Chicago. Aidan and Nadia had known each other since they were young, and he liked her. She didn’t excite him sexually, but that wasn’t the point. Uniting the New York and Chicago packs through marriage would create a powerful dynasty.

  Because Emma stirred him more than any human female he’d ever met, he was wary of her. At thirty-two, he was fast approaching the time when he’d have to commit to Nadia, and he prided himself on honoring his commitments. Love and passion, the kind Emma wrote about, wouldn’t factor into it.

  Distracted by that thought, he missed the end of the reading and the beginning of the autographing session. A line had formed by the time Aidan stood, and the woman in the black suit had stepped in to slip promo material into each copy before handing it back to the buyer.

  Holding the hardback he’d purchased earlier in the evening and folding his topcoat over one arm, Aidan headed to the back of the group. He hated lines, but he would stand in this one because it would give him a rare chance to talk with Emma face-to-face. Maybe he’d learn something important.

  He hadn’t sensed any other werewolves in the crowd, which was a disappointment. He’d thought her informant, if she had one, would want to attend the launch of her book tour. Apparently not.

  He recognized a few faces from the previous two signings. Her mother was here, of course. Betty Gavin had taken a chair in front and was near the head of the line.

  Her blond hair was mixed with gray, and she carried a few more pounds than her daughter, but the resemblance was striking. She worked as an administrative assistant for a group of lawyers. Aidan had checked her out thoroughly, too, and hadn’t found anything suspicious. Obviously she thought her daughter had hung the moon.

  Aidan settled in to wait and tried to block out the sensory overload created by a pack of humans. Perfume, aftershave, and deodorant assaulted his nostrils, while a cacophony of voices, cell phone chimes, background music, and shuffling feet battered his eardrums.

  He longed for the stillness of the forest or the hushed ambience he’d achieved in his Central Park West apartment with triple-paned glass and yards of moss green carpet. A flat-screen in every room ran continuous forest-scene footage to give him the illusion of the deep woods—even in the heart of the city—and he kept a jungle of plants healthy with the help of a plant sitter.

  Silence was another thing he appreciated about Emma. She didn’t make unnecessary noise, except once in a great while when she’d crank up the volume on her iPod speakers and dance around her Greenwich Village loft. She knew some sexy dance moves that he’d have been wise to forget about.

  She didn’t wear perfume, either, which allowed him to pick up her true scent. Unfortunately, he was drawn to it. He understood the power of pheromones and recognized that he had a significant problem with Emma in that regard.

  Her beguiling aroma reached out to him, penetrating the maze of competing scents, taunting him from thirty feet away. He’d met her up close only twice before, both times when she’d autographed books at this store.

  The first time she only smiled and thanked him for coming. But the second time she’d asked enough questions to find out he was a member of the well-connected Wallace family. She’d seemed a little surprised, yet pleased, that Aidan read her books.

  He figured she’d already spotted him tonight. After all, he was one of a handful of men in the audience. He’d bet he was the only one who k
new how she took her coffee—no sugar, two creams—or what color sheets were on her bed—hunter green. Seeing her tonight was a completely different experience for him now that he knew so much about her. He’d have to be careful to keep all that intimate knowledge under wraps when he spoke to her.

  For three months, he and his staff had monitored her activities through wiretaps and hidden cameras in her loft. He’d personally followed her whenever she left her apartment for lunch dates with her mom, her agent, or a girlfriend.

  Her lifestyle wasn’t all that different from many women in their late twenties. She was an environmentalist, which prompted her to take public transportation to save fossil fuels. She drank organic coffee, but she drank too much of it, which had turned her into an insomniac. Or maybe it was all the organic chocolate she ate along with the coffee. More than once he’d cringed as he’d realized her dinner had consisted of those two items.

  But he understood the food, or lack thereof, more than he understood her choice of boyfriend. As he moved closer to the signing table and the pull of pheromones grew stronger, his thoughts understandably turned to her sex life, or what passed for her sex life.

  The way he figured it, a woman who could dance, a woman who could write creative sex scenes that left him hard and aching, would require a dynamite lover. Instead she had ... Doug, who was also her CPA. Doug might have been world-class when it came to preparing her tax returns, but apparently he didn’t know jack shit about pleasing her in bed.

  Doug had spent the night at Emma’s loft exactly four times in three months. Aidan had balked at putting a camera in her bedroom, both to respect her privacy and protect his sanity. But the audio from the living-room camera had picked up the sounds of a couple having sex in the bedroom. Sad to say, he hadn’t detected much excitement. Doug seemed to have the energy quotient of a stale bagel.

  Emma deserved somebody more inspired, somebody more ardent. Aidan wondered whether she was so busy with her career that she simply lacked the time to search out a better alternative to Doug. Then, too, her taxes were probably complicated, and a good CPA was hard to find.

 

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