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“Very few are.” He reached forward, tracing the line of her cheek. “But Taurin Bay is such a small town, and small towns like to watch and gossip.”
“Ah, but I like the danger of discovery.” She leaned into his hand and lightly kissed his palm. “Besides, Taurin Bay has a city attitude. You can do what you want, and the neighbors have no wish to know about it.”
Was that some sort of admission? Did she mean you could kill without the neighbors getting suspicious? Taurin Bay wasn’t that insular. Someone, somewhere, had to know something.
“So what do you do for excitement in a place like this?”
Eleanor smiled. “You mean, besides trying to seduce passing shapeshifters?”
He ran his fingers down her neck, letting them linger momentarily over her pulse. “Yes, besides that.”
“I hunt. I run the hills at night. I help Hank at the inn occasionally.”
And she was hunting now, with him as the quarry. Excitement lit her eyes, raced through her pulse. The edge he was walking was getting decidedly thinner. If she changed form, he’d be in serious trouble. He doubted if his own form would have much hope against a panther—if his hunch was right and she was that panther.
“I didn’t know Hank owned the inn.”
“Oh, he doesn’t. I do.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Maybe, just maybe, Eleanor had given them their first lead. “Really. I thought the inn was owned by a Randolph Barker.”
“My former husband. He couldn’t stand the demands of a shapeshifter, poor dear.”
The demands of a shapeshifter, or the appetite? Maybe they should check out just what had happened to poor dear Randolph, as well as find out if he owned any other properties in the area.
Eleanor’s hand touched his thigh, then moved to the fly of his jeans. His groin tightened in response, aching with need.
He leaned forward and kissed her. Her mouth was hot and sweet, but it was a taste that suddenly went sour. Damn, he just couldn’t do this. He had ignored Maddie’s desperate need to be held and comforted, had ignored the flash of hurt when he’d walked away from her.
But he simply couldn’t ignore the fact that he had no wish to make love to one woman when it was another he wanted.
He placed his hand on Eleanor’s. “Eleanor, stop.”
She raised an eyebrow and sat back. “Cold feet?” she questioned softly. “Or a case of not wanting to cheat on your girlfriend?”
“Neither,” he replied calmly. “Just caution. What’s your other form, Eleanor?”
“A cat.” She sipped her drink, regarding him thoughtfully. “A black panther, to be precise.”
So she was the cat he’d seen in the forest. “Which is odd, given your hair is blond.”
She smiled, but the expression failed to reach her eyes. “There are so many ways to disguise hair and eye color these days.”
And one of them, he’d wager, was magic. “My spirit is the hawk, Eleanor. We aren’t compatible.” Not when she was likely to pounce at a vital moment.
The light of battle was flaring deep in the midnight recesses of her gaze. “But think of the fun. We’d never know when one might change and devour the other. The thrill of fear will only add to the excitement.”
It was the sort of fun he could well do without. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t, believe me,” she murmured softly. “So, where does that leave us?”
He took another sip of wine instead of answering, and saw a sudden gleam enter the dark depths of her eyes. A chill ran through him. The wine. Christ, he was a fool!
He put the glass on the table and caught her hand. “I guess I should do the gentlemanly thing and leave.”
“Oh, don’t. There is still so much we have to discuss.”
Her glance flicked past him, no doubt studying the clock on the mantel. He wondered how much time he had left until the drug took effect.
