by Roxy Wilson
“This way.” When her eyebrows squished together, his lips lifted in a smile. “I can smell her. Don’t worry.”
“What do I smell like?” she blurted out before she fully realized what she intended to ask. “Sorry, I meant—it’s a little unsettling to know that you can catch my scent even if you’re miles away from me.”
“Your scent is strong, female, and…a little bit like a rose.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Like a rose?”
His cheeks flushed with color, and she could see he felt a little embarrassed. Her heart melted. Oh! What a guy!
“Yes, like rose.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a unique scent.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Laney came out from behind a tree. She didn’t waste her time asking what Nya was doing here. It was somewhat strange to meet all these people she’d known most of her life and realize they had another identity she hadn’t been aware of. It just proved to her that the werewolves were not a threat to the community. All these people lived and existed in the town for so long, and there was never any trouble because of them. They were just like normal people, except they had something extra going on for them. It was kind of great to meet another one of the wolves.
“Laney,” she nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. It was just sheer luck we were nearby to hear the commotion and respond to it. The shooter ran off when it heard the yowls. Some of the younger boys got excited.”
“I bet the man or woman who shot at us knew how much time he had to hunt us.”
“He,” Laney said. “It was a man,”
Nya didn’t bother to ask her how she knew. It was pretty obvious she’d scented the shooter. “Where did he go?”
“No idea,” she said. “The boys are chasing him. Maybe they’ll catch him.”
“I want them to track him and figure out where he’s stationed,” Reece said.
“Of course, they know they must not be seen,” Laney assured him. “I should go. The police are on their way.”
Her statement made Nya realize she could hear the sirens.
“I don’t want them to interview me. There’s no way I can explain what I’m doing here.”
“Yeah, take care,” Reece said.
Nya smiled. “And, Laney? Thanks a lot. You guys saved our lives.”
“I would just like to figure out why your lives needed to be saved in the first place. There’s something sinister going on in this town, and I don’t like it,” Laney said.
“Neither do I,” Nya agreed with her.
The women smiled at each other.
“We’ll do something about it fast,” Laney added. “See you guys.”
They watched the woman walk away. “I like her. Always did. But now that I know what she’s capable of, my respect for her has increased a whole lot.”
The sound of the police sirens intensified. “We should go back and wait for them,” Reece said. “Let the circus begin.”
She didn’t mind his distrust for the police. After all, they did nothing but harass him the moment she gave them his name. Of course, she was also to blame for it. If she’d known him as well as she did now, she never would’ve suspected he had anything to do with the murder.
They strode towards the parking lot. “I’ve been thinking about the offer you made for my father’s sculptures,” she said.
“Good. I was going to ask you again. His talent shouldn’t remain hidden for long. But I didn’t know if I should bring it up again. You might have thought it was just an excuse to…get close to you again.”
“Maybe you can come over tomorrow and take an inventory of the pieces,” she suggested.
“Sure, I can do that.”
The police car stopped and the doors opened. Officer Peterson stepped out. Seeing them together, he stopped, looking puzzled.
Nya took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was going to be damned hard. The police wouldn’t like to know she’d changed her mind about Reece’s involvement with the case, but she had to tell them.
It was time she told the world what she thought about Reece.
Of course, first, she had to tell the man who stood by her whenever she needed him. Now, it was her turn to return the favor. “So maybe you can also have dinner with me when you come to take the inventory? As I said before, I’m not a gourmet cook but I can fend for myself.”
If he was surprised by her offer, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked at her as if he was trying to figure out what was going on in her head. “Sure. I’d love that.”
Nya smiled.
He nodded.
And just like that…they were back together.
Chapter Twenty
Reece paused before he pressed his finger on the doorbell. When she asked him to come over, he was shocked. Well, not shocked. Actually, he was delighted. So much so, he’d wanted to pump his fist to show his excitement, but he wasn’t a kid anymore, and he didn’t think Officer Peterson would like such an open display of his exhilaration.
While Reece was convinced Nya remained in danger as long as she was with him, he hadn’t been able to say no. It would have been stupid of him to turn her down after all that happened. Maybe she was swept away by the strange and terrible things that plagued them. Maybe she was already regretting this invite.
He sure hoped not.
Reece clutched the roses he held tightly and then pressed the bell. The door opened a moment later, and his breath got stuck in his throat. The Moroccan blue dress she wore clung to every inch of her voluptuous body. He could practically imagine each curve under it. His lungs expelled a breath and he nearly swayed on his feet.
Did she have to be this ravishing?
She smiled. “Hi. Come in. You’re right on time.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t want to miss this—opportunity…” He stared at her and lost his train of thought. “…this opportunity to look at your father’s things.”
A smile crept over her face as if she’d known exactly what he wanted to say.
Of course, he was glad to have this chance to hang out with her. No matter how bad things had gotten over the past weeks, his only ray of hope was her. She was the sweet prize at the end of this ordeal that he intended to claim. While he was worried his presence caused her trouble, now that his pack also protected her, he felt a little better about it.
Still, there was the murderer, the shooter, and Faine. He had a feeling there was some overlap there. Was Faine the murderer? Or was it the shooter?
He would get to the bottom of the mess soon enough, but right now he wanted to concentrate on the beautiful woman who took his breath away.
“I’m glad you’re interested in preserving my dad’s legacy. My mother was delighted when I told her you wanted to showcase and sell his work.” She stood before the sculpture in the foyer while he admired it. “She always used to push my father to show it to someone who could understand the effort and love that went into these sculptures but he always believed he wasn’t good enough. I think he was too afraid to let anyone take a look at them for fear they wouldn’t like it as much as he’d enjoyed creating them.”
“That’s often the case with artists. They fear rejection.” He ran a hand over the striking sculpture. “Unfortunately, in your father’s case, he wouldn’t have faced that kind of rejection. He would have been revered, if he’d had the courage to show his work to someone.”
“It’s never too late,” she said. When he stared at her, she shrugged. “It was something he used to say whenever I told him I couldn’t do something or wanted a change in my life. Now, I’m going to use his words to do something for him. Come on. Let’s get started.”
He followed her upstairs. This was the first time he was seeing this section of her house, and he had to admit that her father’s labor of love was stunning. Every corner of the house, the mahogany moldings, and the sheen of polish on the doors, the exquisite designs of the various sculptures and designs that
hung on the wall showed he’d taken pride in his work. They reached the top floor. The attic windows were opened, and there wasn’t the usual musty smell that often permeated such places.
“I’ve uncovered some pieces, and the rest are packed in crates.”
He took out a notebook and a pen from his pocket. “I’m going to make some notes. Not only will I be taking down descriptions of the work but I’ll also be taking pictures, so I can show my manager. We’ll then decide which pieces we want to start with. I don’t think we should show everything in the first exhibition. I’ll just select a few pieces.”
“That would drive up the price.”
He took out his phone. “Yes, of course. We’ve got to get the best price for each piece, so I don’t want to show everything in one go. That sculpture downstairs would be sold as soon as I put it up for sale.”
“It’s not for sale,” she said quickly. “I mean, that was his gift to me. He actually made it for my seventeenth birthday.”
He could understand her sentiments. “Okay, no problem. I’ll just show it in the exhibition, but it won’t be for sale.”
“That’s fine then.”
He was eager to begin. Sure, he wanted to spend time with her, but Reece knew a good deal when he saw it. Also by doing this for her and her father, he would actually feel good. Perhaps it could be some kind of a repayment for all the trouble she faced because of him. Then of course, it would be his pleasure to show the world the work of a good artist.
She hesitated, clearly unsure of what he expected from her. Reece walked over to the nearest sculpture. It was almost up to his waist. The cheeky monkey that peeked out from behind the miniature tree had a naughty expression on its face.
“This was also a gift to me. He made it for my eighth birthday,” she said.
“We can also use it in the exhibition. Once my list is ready, I’ll go over it with you and we’ll decide which pieces you want to sell and which ones you want to keep.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Do you need my help here?”
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll manage on my own.”
“I’ll just wait downstairs for you then,” she said. “Do you want to have a cup of coffee? Lemonade?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
She walked away.
He breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how often he saw her, her impact on his nerves never lessened. When he was with her, he felt like every one of his nerves was stretched taut. As soon as she left, he started his work. Finding a new artist about whom he was excited was always a great privilege. He loved this work. His factories gave him bread and butter, but this was his passion. He enjoyed the whole process of discovering someone new and unveiling his or her creations to the world. His gallery was relatively new but already they enjoyed a good reputation.
He hoped this work would also get the attention it deserved. Reece inspected each piece. He took pictures and made notes. Nya’s father apparently worked from the heart. The work didn’t exactly fit one genre, but rather was eclectic. There were sculptures of animals but also designs that depicted war scenes, heroes, fairies, kings, and queens. Reece was happy to note there were more than ninety pieces. Nya would like to keep a few, but he was sure that at least seventy pieces would go for sale.
It was a good number. When he finished, Reece went downstairs. He found her in the dining room just as she was lighting a candle that stood on the table. “Hi.”
She glanced at him. A strange expression crossed her face. “Are you done already? I was just—making sure everything was fine here.”
His gaze took in the two plates that were set on the smooth mahogany table. The lit candles, the matching napkins, and the flowers gave the whole scene a romantic feel. His heart filled with hope. Maybe she was thinking along the same lines as he was? “I’ve made a list. We’ll go over it after dinner.” He didn’t comment on the setup. There was no point being too obvious about it. “Do you need any help?”
“No. Everything is ready. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Sure, why not?” He followed her into the kitchen. Reece could hardly keep his eyes off her figure as she sashayed over the counter. He took the bottle from her hand and his fingers brushed lightly over hers. An electric current seemed to sizzle its way up his arm. She took a step back, and he suppressed a smile. He was pretty sure she also felt the zing of chemistry. He opened the bottle and poured the wine into two glasses. They carried it back to the table. “You’re lucky your father was a productive man. I counted ninety four pieces.”
“And that doesn’t include those that hang on our walls.”
He sipped the wine. It was of excellent quality. “I figured you wouldn’t want to sell those.”
“No, I don’t really want to. Some of them are a treasure trove of memories. I couldn’t trade them for the world.”
“It’s all right. I understand. Art is sentimental. There are enough pieces in the attic to guarantee a good income for you.”
Nya smiled. “For my mother, actually. I’d like to give it to her, so she can go on the world tour she’s always talked about. I don’t really need the money. It’s enough that my father gets the acknowledgment he deserves.”
He was always impressed with her, but now he was even more so. “You’re a strange woman, Nya. Most people would be asking me by now, how much money they could hope to make, but you don’t seem interested in that at all.”
“My needs are simple. This house, the forest, and my work…that’s all I need to live a good life. But if I can do something for my mother then it would give me immense pleasure, and I think my father would be happy too.” She took a sip of her wine. “He’d always regretted he couldn’t take her on a world tour. She wanted to travel but he couldn’t afford it.”
“Now, her wish and his will come true. I can easily sell one of those pieces for a few thousand dollars. The smaller ones might bring three thousand dollars while the larger ones and the ones with greater detail on them could be sold for at least eight to nine thousand dollars.”
She gaped at him as if he said something extraordinarily outrageous. “That much? Really?”
Reece nodded. “Sure. It’s art. I have clients who are willing to pay for something this different and beautiful. If you were willing to sell that sculpture in the foyer, it would easily fetch fifteen thousand dollars.”
She shook her head, much as he’d expected her to do. “As I said, it’s not for sale.”
“That’s fine. It doesn’t matter. We have a lot of other stuff. Of course, my gallery will take a twenty percent commission. It’s business after all.”
She smiled. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “And I wouldn’t expect anything else from a business man.”
He reached forward to clasp her hand. Her fingers trembled in his. “I just want to make you happy. All I’ve given you is grief, and I really want to do something to make up for it.”
“Don’t be silly. You haven’t done anything bad to me.”
He raised her hand and kissed it lightly. Reece let go. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Kidnapping. Attacks by werewolves. Shooting. Is there anything I haven’t gotten you into?”
“You were as much a victim as I was. I think…we just have to accept we’re going through a rough patch. It’s just luck we’re in this together, and we can give each other moral support.”
“That’s an optimistic way of looking at things.”
She stood. “I’ll get the appetizers and the salad.”
He trailed behind her, not wanting to be far away from her presence. He grabbed the plate of spring rolls from the counter and put them on the table. “This smells delicious.”
Nya chuckled. “It’s going to be. I didn’t make it. There’s an amazing Thai restaurant, and I ordered from them. The only thing I made is the baked chicken and the dessert.”
“That’s good enough. It’s more than what I would have done.” He served her first and then helped
himself. When he came here, he dared not build up his hopes. After all, no two people could go through such highs and lows of emotion and not feel uncomfortable with each other, but surprisingly they were back to the comfort level they shared on their first date.
Technically speaking, this was their second date.
She might agree or not, but he was determined to count it as such.
“So what have you been up to, other than dodging bullets and chasing wayward werewolves?”
Laughter sputtered out of his mouth. If someone else heard them, they’d be branded as crazy people. But this was the reality of their life, and he was glad to be able to talk about it with her. “I’ve been working with an investigator about the person who stole from me. Other than that, I was told to coach the soccer team.”
“The soccer team? Who told you to coach them?”
“Lendl. He says it’s a great way to make friends.” Reece grinned. “That is, if I help the boys bring home the trophy.”
She took a bite of her food as she considered his words. “Lendl is right. People here are big on the soccer team. The boys are encouraged to compete and they do very well. We’ve won the trophies more times than I can remember, and the coach is someone who’s revered in the community. Of course, he’d be raked over the coals if he doesn’t help the boys win.”
“Which I’m getting anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“Have you ever coached before?”
“Never,” he admitted. “But as Lendl said, if I can run a factory, I can do this too. I used to play and I was pretty damned good.”
“It might be worth a shot. They’re looking for someone, and you might fit the bill, provided you can actually kick a ball and show them you would be good at it.”
“I can do that.”
“Ah! Of course. I bet all werewolves are good at sports. Oh, now I understand why Duncan and Smith were good players. They were the best on the team,” she said. “This reminds me. I got a call from Duncan. He apologized and told me he only did it because of Foster. Said he was sorry, and that he was glad I didn’t actually file any charges.”