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Her pulse leaped into overdrive. “And do you?”
His smile was a wicked promise of things to come. She shifted slightly and resisted the temptation to fan her face.
“Whenever I can.”
His voice was rich and husky and conjured images of those sheets again. Though even the floor would have done right now.
“And your partner didn’t think this a strange deviation from a man who has no one in his life?”
“No one permanent. I’m a werewolf, not a monk.”
“So when the moon rises, you’re not overly fussy?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never sunk to prostitutes, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She wasn’t, and in many regards, it didn’t really matter. He was here, she was horny, and if they could find the time and space, it could be damn well perfect between them. Did it matter how many different partners he’d had? She’d certainly had more than her fair share over the last ten years, despite her grandmother’s recent insinuations that she was in danger of becoming a reborn virgin.
“What about yourself?” he said. “Why aren’t you married and home safe with a kid or two? Why are you running around risking your life chasing madmen? Or madwomen?”
She gave him a deadpan look. “The barefoot-and-pregnant ideal went out a long time ago, Detective.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She sighed. “It comes down to the chocolate thing.”
“So you’re saying chocolate is better than sex?”
It was interesting he said sex rather than love. Was it some sort of werewolf thing that he kept mentioning sex without ever mentioning any form of emotion? She didn’t know, but she suspected her grandmother might.
“In some cases, very definitely.” She grinned and added, “Of course, I haven’t had time yet to judge the offer on the table.”
“So you still intend to … sample the offering?”
“The sooner the better.”
“With that I agree wholeheartedly.”
The look in his eyes smoked her insides. Gwen chose that moment to take a shuddering breath and wake from the scrying, and Kat wasn’t sure whether to curse her grandmother’s timing or bless it as she rose and walked over. She pried the crystal from her grandmother’s fingers, then grabbed a drink and some painkillers, offering her both.
“Thanks,” Gwen said, when she could.
“Get anything?”
Kat sat at the table, with Ethan next to her. She was intensely aware not only of his closeness but of his knee brushing hers. It was a promise of heaven she didn’t dare react to.
Gwen nodded. “It’s moving, all right. Down to Rogue River. It seems to have specific time restrictions, but I couldn’t see what, exactly, it was.”
Ethan frowned. “That’s a tiny resort town. Why would it be going there in winter? Wouldn’t summer be a better time if it wanted to prey on kids?”
“I think it’s safe to say this thing has an agenda of its own, and until we uncover that agenda, we can’t afford to second-guess its motives.”
“So we’re heading for Rogue River?” Kat said.
Gwen nodded. “But in two cars. What I saw confirms the fact that it doesn’t know about me. We have to keep it that way a while yet.”
“Gran, you can’t drive that far in my car.”
“I have no intentions of doing so. I’m going to hire myself a car and a driver, and travel in luxury.”
