She laughed as she picked up her underwear and started putting it on. “Oh, yes, I would.”
“Why, because of your assistant?” He pulled on his briefs and reached for his jeans.
“No. We each have our own rooms, but even if she knew I’d been with you all night, she’d never consider questioning that. But I should go back to the hotel to get some sleep, so I can function the next day.”
“I’d let you sleep. I’m capable of leaving you alone so you can rest.” He put on his jeans.
“Maybe I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
He glanced up and grinned at her. “That good, huh?”
“You know you were.”
“I was hoping so.” He zipped his jeans. “I’d hate to be the only one here who was blown away.”
“You’re not.” She stepped into her dress and pulled it up over her hips. “And I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with that, but let’s postpone the heavy discussions and just be together.” She fastened her dress and picked up her shoes. “If that works for you.”
“It works.” He flashed her another smile before he pulled on his shirt and slipped his feet into his loafers. He picked up his socks and shoved them in a back pocket before pulling out his phone.
As he ordered the cab, she felt him watching her as she sat down on one of the chairs to put on her shoes.
He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at silver strap-on heels again without thinking of you.”
She finished buckling them and stood. “I won’t be able to wear these without thinking of you, so we’re even.”
“I guess we could blame it on the shoes.”
She met his gaze. “You could try.”
“It’s not the shoes,” he said softly. “Come on. Let’s go down.”
She followed him toward the roof-top door. “Your socks are hanging out of your pocket like a tail.”
“That’s my subtle way of signaling what the next round will involve. I live near a park.”
“I see.” Excitement fizzed in her veins. If he wanted to make love Were-style, she was all for it.
He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder. “If that works for you.”
She had to clench both fists to keep from dragging him away from the door and ripping off his clothes. Why wait until tomorrow night? To hell with the cab. To hell with sleep.
But she needed to wait until tomorrow night, if only to prove to herself that she could. She swallowed. “It works.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Nadia had fully intended to sleep once she returned to her silent and sterile hotel room. But instead she was filled with energy and new design ideas popped into her brain, ideas that wouldn’t let her sleep.
So she spent the rest of the night with a sketch pad that was synced to her computer. By dawn she’d roughed out enough designs to keep her shop busy for weeks producing what would be a great beginning for her spring collection.
She’d taken her inspiration partly from the murals in Quentin’s building, and partly from the chandelier. She envisioned vibrant colors and crystal beads. And seductive designs, which owed much to Quentin, himself. Several times she’d caught herself looking at a concept through his eyes and knowing instinctively that he’d approve.
Coffee, adrenaline, and a chocolate croissant provided by Sherry got her through the morning. The Saks appointment netted an order for several designs, so Nadia suggested a celebratory lunch at one of her favorite bistros. They both ordered a Kobe beef filet along with the restaurant’s signature salad.
Sherry picked up her goblet of Perrier and offered a toast. “To us. We rock.”
“We do.” Nadia touched her goblet to Sherry’s. She’d chosen her assistant well. Sherry was only twenty-six, but she had solid design skills and loved to dress the part of a fashionista.
Today she wore a tight black skirt and black knit top paired with impossibly high heels and enough silver jewelry to fill a display case. Her blonde hair was cut in a short, choppy style, with a little burgundy woven in by her favorite hairdresser.
Sherry’s hair seldom looked the same two weeks in a row. As a Were, she had somewhat unremarkable butterscotch-colored fur, but in human form, she took full advantage of the chance to be outrageous.
“I want to show you something.” Nadia pulled her small laptop out of her satchel and turned it on. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I worked on some things for the spring collection.” She handed the laptop to Sherry.
Her assistant scrolled through the drawings, her green eyes intent.
“They’re still rough, but I—”
“They’re awesome.” Sherry looked up, her small features alight. “I love these. I adore the drape of the fabric on that first dress, and that jacket paired with the cropped cargo pants would be an instant hit.”
Nadia beamed with pleasure. “Good. I really liked them, but I did them in such a rush that I wasn’t completely sure about them.”
“I’ve never known you to knock out this many designs in a few hours. Something must have really inspired you.”
“Something did. And someone, actually. At Jessie’s I ran into Roarke Wallace and his cousin Quentin. Roarke had to leave, but I spent some time with Quentin, and . . .”
Sherry laughed. “I think that’s what they call a pregnant pause. I take it this Quentin is a special sort of Were.”
Nadia could feel herself blushing. “He is.”
“Well, if he inspires you to create designs like this, I’m all for him.”
“We both know it’s a temporary relationship. He’s settled here and I’m likely to end up the Henderson alpha. But for now, we’re not thinking too hard about all that. I’m planning to see him again tonight, if you won’t feel abandoned.”
“Are you kidding? I could spend every night at the theater and not get sick of it. Besides, I wouldn’t want to stand between you and your muse. Go for it.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s my muse, but he certainly puts me in a terrific mood.”
“That’s worth a lot.” Sherry raised her goblet again. “To Quentin.”
Laughing, Nadia lifted her goblet. “To Quentin, source of many good things.”
Their order arrived, and although Sherry wanted to continue discussing Quentin, Nadia changed the subject. She didn’t want to give Sherry the impression she was seriously involved with him.
But she’d cleared the way for her to spend the evening at his place. Back at her hotel late in the afternoon, she stopped short of packing an overnight bag. She’d save that for another time, and the way she felt about him, there would be another time, and another, until her obligations forced her to give him up.
He’d called to provide his address and she discovered he did indeed live near a park. Central Park, to be exact. His apartment had a doorman and a magnificent view of the park and the New York City skyline.
He seemed almost apologetic about it as he handed her a glass of champagne. “It’s overpriced and not my first choice,” he said. “I bought it planning to renovate the place and sell it. I had a buyer, but he went to jail for insider trading. I decided to live in it until the market picks up a little more.”
She sipped her champagne as she stood by high windows overlooking a green canopy of trees lit by the setting sun. If his suggestion of making love in wolf form involved going into the park, they’d have to wait until dark.
His offer of champagne and hors d’oeuvres was a classy way to spend time until then, though. She glanced at him. He’d dressed in navy sweats and T-shirt, perhaps because they’d be easy to take off once they reached the park.
She’d brought nothing but dresses to New York, so she’d worn the most casual one she had, made from a soft material in a subtle pewter and black pattern. Tonight her heels were black.
“Have you ever had a permanent home?” she asked.
“Not since I left the Wallace compound. My parents still have their stone cottage there, but that ha
sn’t been my home for years.” He walked over to stand beside her and slid his hand under her hair to cup the back of her neck. “Where’s home for you?”
“I have an apartment in a high-rise overlooking Lake Michigan.” It seemed strange that he wouldn’t know exactly where she lived after they’d shared such explosive sex the night before.
His casual caress was the first time he’d touched her since she’d walked into his apartment. The hours they’d spent apart had created a subtle barrier of unfamiliarity and hesitancy. Now they needed to rediscover each other.
But rediscover each other they would. She imagined them strolling through the park tonight and finding a secluded spot to undress and shift into wolf form. Sexual tension coiled within her as she imagined how Quentin would look as a wolf, his fur a rich blend of russet and gold.
He massaged her neck, his fingers strong and sure. “This place is probably more your speed than the Greenwich Village loft.”
“Not at all. I can imagine how that loft will be once it’s finished, and I’m sure I would like it very much.”
“Then rent it from me.” He looked at her. “Give yourself an excuse to stay in New York every couple of weeks.”
She thought about Sherry’s comment that he was her muse. “How soon will it be ready?”
“If you’re serious about renting it, I’ll throw all my resources behind the project. I could have you in there before Christmas.”
“Christmas . . .” She shouldn’t be thinking of spending Christmas with Quentin in the loft, but the prospect was too delicious.
He continued his slow massage of her neck. “I’ll even bring you a giant Christmas tree and a holly wreath. We could decorate the tree together.”
Her heart lurched crazily as she imagined that cozy scene. She couldn’t think of a holiday plan she’d like better.
“I’m planning to install a fireplace. I forgot to tell you that.”
“Wood burning?” She pictured the two of them taking a walk in the snow before coming in to snuggle by the fire with a cup of hot chocolate. Heaven.
“I’d planned on that, but if you—”
“I love a wood-burning fireplace, love the smell.”
“Good.” He sounded pleased. “Then wood-burning it is. I’ll supply you with firewood whenever you’re there in the winter.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Quite the accommodating landlord, aren’t you?”
He met her gaze and smiled. “Why not? I’ve found the perfect tenant. I want to keep her happy.” Draining his champagne flute, he set it on a table by the window.
He could be referring to her sexual happiness, but Nadia didn’t think that was all that concerned him. He seemed to savor the prospect of making her happy, period.
“How did your meeting with Saks turn out?”
“It went very well, considering I didn’t sleep, after all.”
“Sorry about that.” He looked pleased with himself. “But not too sorry. It’s a compliment, in a way, to have you tossing and turning, missing me. I didn’t sleep much, either.”
“Oh, I didn’t toss and turn. I worked. I designed most of my spring collection.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize you had to work last night. I can’t regret what we did instead, but—”
“Oh, it wasn’t something I had to do. But I was inspired and couldn’t help myself.”
“Yeah?”
“The mural and the chandelier were creatively stimulating.” She paused. “And so were you.”
“I was?” He smiled with obvious pleasure. “Now that’s a compliment. When are you going to show me the designs?”
“When they’re more polished. But I think I should rent your loft, Quentin.” She felt like a cliff-diver saying that, but staying part-time in the loft and being with Quentin held such wonderful possibilities that she had to go for it.
His hazel eyes shone. “Great.”
“If nothing else, I’ll keep you from leasing to someone who doesn’t appreciate it. That would be a travesty.”
“You’re right. And this way, you can have input as I finish the place so it will suit you even better.” He lifted her champagne flute from her hand and set it on the table next to his. “We need to kiss on it.”
Heat rocketed through her, leaving her moist and trembling. “We might get carried away.”
“I sincerely hope we do.” His lips touched hers.
With a soft moan, she relaxed into the kiss and heard music. Unfortunately, it was the cell phone in the purse she’d left on his sofa, and the ringtone was her mother’s.
Her mother believed cell phones should only be used in an emergency, which meant that a crisis had erupted at the Henderson estate. Nadia didn’t need much imagination to figure out that the crisis somehow involved Theo.
Selfishly, she wished she’d turned off her phone. She’d thought about it, but considering her unfolding position in the Henderson pack, she’d thought that would be irresponsible.
Reluctantly she drew away from Quentin’s hot kiss. “Sorry, but I’d better get that.”
“Okay.” He didn’t argue, but she could see the disappointment in his eyes. He probably thought she should let it go to voice mail.
“It’s my mother,” she offered by way of explanation as she walked to the sofa and took her phone out of her purse. Tucking her hair back, she pushed the connect button and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom.”
“Nadia, you have to come home.” Her mother’s voice trembled.
A chill ran up her spine. “What’s wrong?” Head down, she walked out of the living room and into the foyer. This promised to be an emotional conversation, and she felt protective toward her mother.
“Theo challenged your father this afternoon, Were to Were. He won the fight, Nadia.” Her mother started to cry.
“Is Dad okay?” Her world spun. Her father couldn’t be—
“He’s . . . he’s okay.” Her mother gulped for air. “Physically. But mentally, he’s not. Theo says he’s the alpha now, and the pack’s . . . the pack’s in an uproar. Some side with him, most don’t.”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can.” She thought quickly. The corporate jet was at LaGuardia and she’d given the small crew a few days off to explore New York. They’d have to cut their holiday short.
“You need to challenge Theo.”
“I know, Mom.”
“He’s my son, but he’s not fit to—”
“I’ll handle Theo.” Her jaw clenched as she thought of Theo challenging his own father. The days when a physical battle determined who would become the alpha were supposed to be over. Not for Theo, obviously. “You take care of Dad.”
“I will, but the pack’s counting on you, Nadia. And so am I.”
“I won’t let you down. Hang in there, Mom.” She disconnected the call and stood in the foyer taking slow, deep breaths. Then she called the pilot and told him to round up the crew and meet her at the airport. Next she left a voice mail for Sherry instructing her to handle their remaining appointments as best she could and book herself a first-class seat on a commercial airline when she was ready to come home.
After one more deep breath, Nadia walked back into the living room.
Quentin turned from the window, his expression troubled.
“You probably heard my side of that conversation,” she said.
He came toward her. “I tried not to, but—”
“It’s okay.” She ached to be held, to be comforted, but she was about to become the Henderson pack alpha, which meant she needed to be tough and strong. “Theo defeated my dad and declared himself the alpha. Now I have to go home and challenge Theo.”
He stiffened, as if he himself had taken a blow. But then his gaze locked with hers. “You’ll be fine.” He eliminated the space between them and folded her into his arms. “You’ll be fine, Nadia.”
“I know.” She laid her head against his broad chest and hugged him, grateful for his solid warmth and his unquest
ioning acceptance of this sudden turn of events.
He didn’t whine about putting an end to their evening. He didn’t cast doubt on her ability to triumph over her brother. He was concerned but not afraid. He believed in her. That was pure gold.
He stroked her hair. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Yes. “Thank you, but no. I’m the only one who can handle this.”
He pulled back to look at her. “Just to be clear, I’m not offering to fight Theo. That’s your job. But if it would help to have a friend in your corner, I’d like to be that friend.”
She allowed herself to consider it, just for a moment. He was a friend, someone who had only her best interests at heart. She knew instinctively she could trust him, and she was about to go into a situation where a trusted friend, one with no agenda beyond her happiness, would be a real asset.
But it wouldn’t be fair to him. “I can’t expect that of you.”
“Why not?”
She hated what she was about to say, but it was time to face facts. “Once I’ve ousted Theo, the pack will expect me to start looking for a mate.”
“Yes, it will.”
“That can’t be you.”
“I know.” He sounded very sure of that. He’d probably realized it long ago, when he first knew they were attracted to each other.
Disappointment tasted bitter on her tongue. “I should scuttle the idea of renting your loft, too.”
He shook his head. “Not if you want a spot to relax when you come here on business.” His grin was a little off-center. “I promise not to gouge you on the price.”
“But the whole idea was to create a special place we could share, and I can’t—”
“That wasn’t the whole idea. It was part of the idea. If being there is good for you, then you should still plan on it. I can be your landlord and friend without making love to you.”
She gripped his broad shoulders and relished the sturdy comfort he provided. “I don’t know if I’m that strong. This wanting is very powerful. I might have to stay away from you completely.”
Werewolf in Greenwich Village: A Wild About You NovellaAn eSpecial from New American Library Page 4