Never taking her eyes from him, she did the same. As she removed her panties and bra, she watched his expression, marveling at the blaze of heat in his gaze, marveling, too, as he became even more aroused.
Naked, they tumbled onto her bed, a tangle of arms and mouths and skin and heat.
As she touched him, she felt as though she explored familiar flesh, thrilling at the thought of so many years of dreams finally becoming reality.
Then he thrust inside her. Though she’d been in love and had her share of lovers, she realized she’d never actually made love. Until now.
They were meant to be together. She wondered if the intensity of their lovemaking would prove it to him, before she gasped and began to move with him, forgetting to even think.
The tension began building inside her, both delicious and strong. She gasped as he slowed his strokes, bucking against him in her desire for more.
As he complied, she let go, reaching completion with a fierceness she hadn’t known was possible. Quivering, shaking, she held on to him as, an instant later, he found his own release.
When he finally collapsed, spent and sated, he gathered her close and held her.
“How long?” he asked.
Somehow she understood. “I fly home on Monday.”
“Where’s home?”
“Seattle.” Her eyelids drifted closed. Usually after sex, she felt claustrophobic and had to keep moving. This time, with him, she wanted to snuggle into his warmth. Just as, this time, she knew she’d never have ordinary sex again.
“I really think we need to talk,” he began.
“A guy wanting to talk. Must be big,” she mused out loud. “But let’s talk later.” Brushing a whispery kiss against his chin, she floated into sleep, where she dreamed of him in another time and place. The images were too murky for her to tell exactly what time period, but she knew they were proof that they had loved each other before.
And they’d love each other again.
Later—how much she had no idea—when she awoke, they made love again. This time, at a languorous pace, exploring every inch of each other’s body. She felt completed and connected in a way she hadn’t ever felt.
She also felt sort of foolish. She had to be the only woman on the face of the earth incapable of a simple weekend fling. She’d bared her soul to him. And he’d said the dreaded “We have to talk.”
Though she didn’t see how this was possible, what if Gideon didn’t feel as strongly as she? If she’d thought to ask how he felt before handing over her heart, she might have had a prayer of surviving a rejection unscathed.
But one look at him, with his tousled, wild-man hair and the new contentment on his strong-featured face, and her instinct for self-preservation flew out the window.
Uncharacteristically she wanted to jump up, swear her undying love and make arrangements to move to Vancouver Island. She could always work as a…She’d figure that out later.
Heaving a sigh and mentally chiding herself for her foolishness, Memphis pushed herself up on her elbows.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We’ve got enough time to get something to eat before you take me fishing again.”
He made a sound low in his throat, almost a growl, and dragged his hand across his face. “I never nap in the middle of the day,” he groused. “Now I’ll need a bucket of coffee to wake up.”
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as her bare feet touched the cool floor. “I’ve got dibs on the shower!”
He stood, also. “Memphis, wait. Earlier, when I said we needed to talk, I wasn’t kidding.”
She stiffened. Something in his voice. The seriousness absolutely terrified her. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear whatever he had to say.
Slowly she turned, trying for a teasing smile, but it felt wobbly around the edges. “If you are about to tell me you have some fatal disease or something, I’ll kill you myself and save it the trouble.”
He only looked at her, no answering smile in return. Instead, his expression grave, he patted the bed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“That bad, huh?” Moving woodenly, she crossed to him and sat where he had indicated. “Okay. Spill.”
Naked, he began to pace. Her stomach tightened as she watched him. She couldn’t help but admire his muscular body and the athletic grace in every stride.
“I don’t know exactly how to tell you, but I have to reveal something personal about myself. Something most people believe is legend, fairy tale or horror story, not real.” He swallowed hard, his throat moving.
Memphis leaned forward. “It can’t be any weirder than my telling you we’ve known each other in a past life, can it?”
“Yes. Yes, it can.” He turned away, then resumed his pacing. “I don’t want to frighten you, but you really have to know.”
Though her stomach was now tied in knots, she felt she had to try to comfort him. Maybe in doing so, she could comfort herself. “You haven’t told me you aren’t ready for commitment.” Throwing the word out there to see how he’d react, she relaxed slightly when he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he stopped in front of her, his dark eyes intense.
“I am ready for commitment. But there’s something you have to know before you agree.”
She wanted to hold him, but knew he wouldn’t welcome it now. “Then tell me. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
His lips twisted as he attempted to smile. “I’m not sure exactly how to tell you, so I’m just going to say it right out. Memphis, I’m a shape-shifter.”
Not comprehending, she stared. “A what?”
“A shape-shifter. A werewolf. I can change from human into wolf.”
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Chapter Six
“A werewolf? Of course you are.” She heard herself say, curiously numb. Pushing off the bed and backing warily toward the bathroom, she forced a smile, knowing it looked as false as his had a moment ago.
Frowning, he dragged his hand across his chin. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
“Definitely not,” she lied.
Moving quickly, he reached for her. Dodging, she fussed with her hair, something she always did when she was nervous, and kept her gaze averted. She couldn’t look at him, not now. He’d be sure to see her thoughts on her face.
“Say something.” His deep voice sounded as low as a growl. Worse, pain threaded through it.
She could feel his gaze on her back. “Honestly I don’t know what to say. This is all really…strange. Believing in reincarnation is one thing, but this…this is another. A werewolf, huh?”
“Yes. I know it’s a lot to take in, but stuff happens. I used the term ‘werewolf,’ but in reality we’d rather be called shape-shifters. Though I’m not full-blooded, I can still shift.”
“Not full-blooded?” Her voice sounded faint, but what the heck did he expect? He couldn’t go around making such wild statements and get absolute acceptance.
“That’s right.” He sounded as though he was relaxing a bit. “Actually, I’m a halfling. Half human, half wolf.”
“Aren’t they all,” she muttered, going along while at the same time wondering why she felt like she had to appease him. “I guess…congratulations?”
He laughed, the masculine sound sending shivers up her spine despite the weirdness of the situation. “No congratulations are necessary. I should let you know that it’s against Pack law for me to tell you this, with one very important exception.”
“Pack law?” Closing her eyes, she felt utterly defeated and miserable. Surreal. Totally surreal. Her one true love, the man she’d been dreaming about and waiting for her entire life, was a lunatic.
“That’s what we call ourselves. The Pack. We’re organized in councils at the city, state and country level. All secret, though.”
Suddenly she understood. He focused on the ordinary, the mundane, to help her get used to the idea.
As if she ever would.
“Right.�
�� She shook her head as everything he’d said sank in. “You’re telling me there are more of you?”
“Yes. And many of us have human mates.”
“Mates?”
He nodded. “The other half of our soul.”
A moment ago she would have welcomed those words. Now she didn’t know what to think.
“This is all too much.”
When he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, she jumped, startled. “I didn’t hear you move.”
“Don’t be like this.” Such sadness in his velvety voice. “This—you are too important to me.”
A few minutes ago, before his startling announcement, she might have responded in kind. Now all she could manage was a wooden nod. “Sorry. This is a lot to take in.”
Was it ever. Actually all she wanted to do was go back to the time before she’d realized he wasn’t right in the head. The time when he’d been the sexiest man she’d ever met, when they’d both been eager to explore their amazing sense of connection.
But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. Now all she could do was try to help him.
“Have you talked to anyone about this?”
“No. I told you, we’re forbidden to, unless that human is our mate.”
“I meant anyone professional.”
“Memphis, I’m not crazy.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“I understand,” he told her, his voice hard and flat and anything but understanding. “You forget, we have this connection. I have a really good idea what you’re thinking.”
“Connection.” She shouldn’t have been surprised that his words mirrored her own thoughts. “Oh, Gideon. You’re breaking my heart. But I can help you, we can get help. Promise me you’ll actually consider it.”
He didn’t answer.
Feeling as though ice had invaded her pores, she stepped away. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He said nothing as she crossed the room with careful steps. When she finally reached the bathroom, she felt relief, a sense of making it to a safe haven, a sanctuary. Closing the door behind her, she quickly locked it just to be safe.
Safe. From Gideon. She covered her face with shaking hands. She’d just made love with a man who actually believed he was a werewolf.
A werewolf.
Her entire body felt bruised and she really wanted to weep. Gideon hadn’t been wrong about the connection. In fact, in the moment right after they’d made love, she’d been dreaming of white picket fences and a diamond ring. Being with him had felt good and right, and she knew they’d been meant to be together.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
That didn’t make the pain go away. Just her luck. In her experience, men as beautiful as he was were either married or gay, not nuts. At least he was different. She’d give him points for that.
A werewolf. She bit back a groan of disappointment, the straightened her shoulders.
Gideon was her soul mate. She couldn’t give up on him. And though another woman might take the first flight home—after all, she’d already caught a salmon, which was her reason for coming here, and she had pictures to give her bragging rights once she got back to the office—she would not. She’d waited for him too long.
A werewolf. While her knowledge of the mythical beast was limited to movies, she couldn’t figure out why a man as together as Gideon would have such delusional fantasies. Okay, so she might dabble in the metaphysical with her growing belief in reincarnation, but to actually believe he could become a wolf?
Yet wolves had figured prominently in her dreams. She still didn’t know why, though she was one hundred percent certain Gideon hadn’t morphed into one.
No, she’d figure out a way to help him. Together they’d get through this.
Turning the shower on hot, she stepped under the water and began scrubbing.
Twenty minutes later, hair blow-dried and makeup applied, she wrapped herself in the huge resort bathrobe and unlocked the door.
Looking for Gideon, at first she thought the room was empty. Then she saw it and froze. A huge, silver timber wolf lay on the floor next to her bed.
Chapter Seven
After Memphis had disappeared into the bathroom, Gideon heard the click as she’d locked him out. He felt as if she’d locked him out of her life forever.
She’d gone all stiff and awkward when he’d gone up behind her and touched her—the exact opposite of how she’d been before he’d given her the news. He knew her—didn’t totally understand how, but he could tell what she was thinking.
Before, she’d found him irresistible. After he’d told her, she simply thought he was crazy.
He’d handed her his soul, the truth about himself. Told her she was his mate.
Chest aching, Gideon had clenched his fists and tried to see what to do next. He’d royally mucked things up. Still, other shifters had been through this and it had all worked out for the best. Sure, he might have rushed things, but she would be flying home in a day or so and he didn’t know what else to do. If he wanted to keep her, she had to know the truth, didn’t she?
Maybe he should have waited. Now, he’d had no choice but to show her the truth of his words and pray she’d react well.
She had to. Simply had to. If she didn’t…then he’d have a hell of a battle on his hands.
Maybe there was truth to that old adage that the best things in life never came easy.
So, with a muttered prayer, Gideon had dropped to all fours and for the second time that day begun the transformation that would make him wolf. Once finished, he’d lain down on the side of the bed, put his head on his paws and waited for Memphis to emerge.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he’d heard the click of the bathroom door opening.
From his spot low on the floor, he’d watched while she swept the room with her gaze, her lovely face tight with anxiety. The moment she’d spotted him, she froze…
Shaking his furry coat, he stood, meaning to reassure her. But when he took a step toward her, she made a strangled sound of terror and nearly tripped over her own feet in her attempt to get away.
Moving swiftly, his paws silent on the carpeted floor, he moved to sit in front of the bathroom door, blocking it.
Again she froze, her breath coming in shallow pants, her eyes wide and wild.
Gideon as wolf whined, lifting his paw to show he meant no harm.
As she stared at him, gradually her rigid posture relaxed and the tension lessened from her finely drawn features.
“Gideon?” she asked softly. “Is that really you?”
Since he couldn’t speak, he woofed softly, then nodded his massive head for emphasis. He stood, took a couple of steps toward her, then sat again, waiting.
“You won’t hurt me?” She asked the question in a hesitant, shell-shocked voice. “I can’t believe I just asked you that. You’re a wolf. You’d probably like to eat me for dinner.”
He panted, the closest a wolf could come to laughing. Then, as her dazed expression became horrified, he emphatically shook his head no.
Her face cleared. “Could you…change back, please. Have a conversation with a wolf is a little unnerving.”
Immediately he did as she’d requested, beginning the process of becoming man once more. When he’d finished, he rolled over to his side and sprang to his feet, automatically reaching for his clothes.
She sat silently watching while he dressed. As he was pulling on his boots, she finally stirred, crossing silently to the window and staring out over the ocean.
“Look at me,” he said.
Slowly, she turned. Tears ran silver tracks down her pale face.
“Why are you crying?” He had no choice but to push.
“I can’t handle this. The werewolf thing. It freaks me out.”
“Give yourself time to get used to the idea.”
“Do you think I will?” She sounded miserable.
“You have to.” His simple answer came from his soul.
He didn’t bother to try to hide how he felt. “Some shifters look their entire lives and never find their one true mate. You are mine. My life would be totally empty without you.”
“Maybe this is my test. I knew there would be one, some kind of karma we had to straighten out.” She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them. “Do werewolves even have past lives? I thought you lived forever.”
Gideon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Forever? That’s vampires. Once a vampire’s been turned, they don’t go away, unless someone kills them. Full-bloods can only be killed by fire or silver, though we halflings aren’t as fortunate. Shifters might have long lives, but eventually we die, just like humans do.”
“Vampires.” Swallowing hard, she clamped her mouth tight. After a moment she said, “Now you’re telling me there actually are vampires.”
“Shape-shifters, vampires, yes. A lot of the legends and fables are based on fact.”
Blinking, she looked disoriented. “Do you realize in the space of a few minutes, you’ve completely destroyed my perception of the world?”
“Not destroyed. Broadened.”
“Maybe. But I can’t resist pointing out this. You expect me to accept that you can shape-shift into a wolf, but you refuse to consider we might have had past lives together.”
He shrugged. “Give me proof. I showed you. Show me.”
Since she knew she couldn’t, Memphis shook her head.
Outside, the sound of several boat motors starting up alerted them.
“We’re supposed to be going fishing right now,” he said gently. “Would you still like to go? It might help clear your head.”
Finally she nodded. “Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you down there.”
What she said made sense, but he wanted to walk out to the pier with her at his side. Instead, he murmured agreement and let himself out of her room, hoping she wouldn’t flee in fear. Of course, they were on an island. Vancouver Island might be large, but wherever she went, he’d find her. Or his wolf would.
In actuality, he had no choice. Knowing they were destined to be together, he couldn’t imagine how gray and empty life would be without her in it.
Return of the Wolf Page 3