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"Did they speculate why?"
"Plastic surgery gone wrong. The general beat her up. Her new nails dropped off and she was mortified with shame."
I raised my eyebrows and he grinned. "Okay, I made that last one up."
"So, once the three weeks was up, she acted same as normal?"
"As far as I noticed, yeah."
"What about her scent?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"Did it change any after her three-week stint of seclusion?"
He hesitated. "Sort of. It got sharper. More distinct."
"In what way?"
He shrugged again. "I really wasn't paying that much attention to the old cow, trust me."
Great. No clue to sate my confusion in that answer. So were my memories totally scrambled, or were they giving me bits of the bigger picture? One I couldn't yet understand? Maybe Mrs. Hunt had been there. Maybe she enjoyed watching her husband taking other women. She didn't exactly look the voyeur type, but these days, you couldn't judge a book by its dowdy cover.
Yet her scent was exactly what I remembered smelling in that room, and it was also the scent of someone in my past. But two people couldn't have the exact same scent. A spoor was as individual as fingerprints or eyes. No two were ever exactly the same.
So why did I remember her scent and not her husband's, if indeed he was there? What the hell was going on?
"What about her husband? Anything odd happen with him over the last few months?"
He shook his head. "Wouldn't know. The general doesn't always get involved with the charities. He's on base a lot, apparently."
"With a wife that looks like that, who can blame him?" I muttered.
Kellen grinned. "That's why a man should pick his woman carefully. He has to live with his choice for the rest of his life."
"Humans don't."
"Humans don't do a lot of things - which is why I'm glad I was born a wolf."
I smiled. "So how come you're here tonight?"
He shrugged. "It's my building, and my dad is one of the sponsors. I'm here representing both parties."
"Not at the moment, you're not."
He placed an arm over my shoulder, and slid me closer. "At the moment, the only thing I'm representing is self-interest."
"Well, I'm here on work's time, and I really should be going back downstairs." But I didn't get up, didn't pull away. It felt too good being close to him.
"You've only been gone half an hour or so. No one important will have missed you yet."
Quinn would have - but I had a feeling that was who Kellen meant when he said "no one important."
His lips met mine and thought went south, not returning until a good hour later. By the time I did make it back down to the main ballroom, meals were being served. Energy caressed my mind, a tingling warmth that curled through my soul. Quinn, wanting me to open the psychic door and talk to him.
Which was not something I wanted to risk given what I'd just been doing. I didn't need the hassle he'd undoubtedly throw my way. So I ignored him and made my way back to our table, sitting down and picking up the napkin like nothing at all had happened.
"Where have you been?" His voice was short. Annoyed.
