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“Everyone’s parents are stricter than yours,” I muttered.
“Shifters,” he said, unrepentant. “She usually played by the rules, and didn’t like getting in trouble. She’s”—he frowned as he searched for a word—“softer than us that way.”
“I didn’t like disappointing my parents.”
“No one does. But I mostly ignored punishments, and you usually tried to negotiate your way around them by citing House rules or whatever.”
“Now who’s got the list?” I asked.
Connor snorted. “The point is, it was no skin off my hide to take responsibility. Lulu was relieved she didn’t get in trouble, and very irritated that she owed me. It was a total win-win.” He frowned. “I think that’s when she was spending time with the necromancer kid.”
“That was—” I had to work to remember the girl’s name. “Ariel, I think. Her mother, Annabelle, was a friend of my parents. She helped them, and the Ombuds, before she retired.”
Her daughter, I recalled, had been a hellion, and not an especially good influence on Lulu. Necromancers didn’t come into their magic until they hit seventeen or eighteen, and it could be a rough road before and after.
“Maybe the entire thing had been her idea,” I mused.
“I take it you aren’t in touch.”
“No, and I don’t think Lulu is, either.”
“I think I kissed Ariel during her wild-child phase.”
“You’re still in your wild-child phase and just as incorrigible.”
He turned to me, gaze narrowed, but eyes gleaming like blue fire. He touched my face with a gentle fingertip, tracing the line of my jaw, lips hovering near my ear. “Shall I prove just how incorrigible I can be?”
“Yes,” I said and grabbed a handful of his T-shirt.
Next thing I knew, I was on my back, a prince above me, his eyes outrageously blue. He nipped at my bottom lip.
“We are outside,” I reminded him. “People can see us.”
“No, they can’t,” he said. “Check the windows.”
Instinctively, I glanced up, realized the only windows thatfaced the courtyard were from his town house, and they were all closed, the curtains drawn. No one could see.
“Clever,” I said, as anticipation rose on my skin.
“Shifter,” he said. “We enjoy all manner of naked outdoor romps.”
And in case I didn’t believe him, he proceeded to prove it. He pulled his shirt over his head, then rose. His feet were bare, and he unbuttoned his jeans, more slowly than I thought fair or necessary, and then there were boxer briefs, and then there was nothing but smooth, tan skin.
He was glorious.
I’d seen him naked before, but that had only been brief flashes before or after he’d shifted. Having him stand there, the prince of wolves, staring down at me with that fallen-angel face, was something altogether different. Altogether more powerful.
Broad shoulders, strong arms. His chest, each muscle defined as his lean torso narrowed to his abdomen. Strength rippled there, dark ink calling out his challenge to the world.I’m not led; I lead.The sentiment matched the daring in his eyes, the strong brace of his legs, and the hand that dipped from abdomen to arousal, the fingers that gripped.
“No modesty,” I said, barely able to form words.
“None needed,” he said, brow arched in authority, and dropped to his knees. He looked at me for a moment. Gaze raking over clothing like he might see through it.
But he still bore the bruises of the attack on him, and I traced fingers lightly over the mottled skin on his torso, near his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay for this?”
“More than fine,” he said and lifted his gaze back to me. “Are you?”
“Oh, definitely,” I said with a grin.
