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“Of course.” He turned a hard eye on her. “Make it fast.”
As soon as he vanished, she rubbed the back of her neck. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” She slammed her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and certainly not in front of a client.
A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “That bad?”
She huffed out a breath. “You have no idea.” Enough chitchat. It didn’t matter that he looked good enough to eat, and she was hungry for more than breakfast. As attracted to him as she was, they were two ships passing in the night. Last night’s sensual fantasy meant nothing. The similarity to her wolf was coincidental.
What were real were her job and her plans for the future. She wasn’t about to let some sexy stranger mess with either. If she wasn’t careful, he’d blow up her carefully constructed existence and disappear, leaving her with nothing but broken pieces to reassemble.
He remained silent, not feeling the need to make idle conversation. Good. The faster this was done, the quicker he’d be on his way. Ignoring the sick sensation in her stomach—which was due to nothing more than lack of sleep and food and had absolutely nothing to do with the thought of never seeing him again—she hefted the wolf canvas and carried it to the large table where all the supplies were kept.
“I’ll help—”
“I’ve got it,” she snapped. The last thing she needed was him hovering. The soap he’d used to shower had a light woodsy scent. It mingled with his natural one, evoking images of the two of them wrapped around each other.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
He leaned against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d done the same thing last night—the crossing his arms over his chest—but he’d been naked then, muscles flexing and glistening.
“Ouch.” She shook her hand when she rapped it against the side of the counter. At this rate, she’d be black and blue by the time she went to bed tonight. As soon as she’d had the thought, she realized it was a huge mistake. Images flitted in her brain, the two of them sprawled on her queen-size mattress, naked, their slick bodies entwined as they made love.
Her nipples beaded against the built-in bra in the dress. Her panties dampened. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She swiped the back of her hand over it. What was wrong with her? She’d never had such a visceral reaction to any man. She buttoned her sweater, glad she was wearing it. The embarrassment would be too much if he noticed her arousal.
Grabbing onto her composure with both hands, she managed to wrap the canvas without further fumbling. Her heart broke a little when she covered her wolf. She’d never see this particular painting again. There was usually joy in each small sale she made, but this one was tinged with sadness. It was her first major painting to leave her.
It was a good thing, she consoled herself. She wanted to share her work, to be able to make a living from her art. That had been her goal since childhood, and she was finally taking a step in the right direction. “Here you go.” Proud of how steady her voice was, she lifted the large, brown paper–wrapped canvas and held it out. Another few minutes and he’d be out of her life for good, and everything could go back to normal. That status quo might be lonely, but it was safe.
He pushed away from the wall and walked toward her but made no move to take the package. The muscles in her arms began to quiver, so she set it down and leaned it against the counter. “Is there a problem?” Why wasn’t he taking it and leaving? That was why he’d come. Wasn’t it?
When she finally gathered her composure and looked up, he was staring at her, his gray eyes pulsing with anger, his jaw tight. A muscle flexed in his neck. He inhaled sharply; his nostrils flared and his lips thinned.
He reached out, stroked his fingers down her cheek, and then shattered her reality. “Tell me about your dreams.”
Chapter Five
Every ounce of color leached from her face.
He feared he’d gone too far, pushed too fast, but having her ignore him and treat him like a stranger was too much. He should follow her lead, take the package, and leave. He could watch her from a distance while he tried to figure out how she fit into the conspiracy against him and the other lone wolves. That would be the smart thing to do. Yet he made no move to go.
The dream had driven him here this morning as much as what had happened at the gallery showing last night. He’d had to see her, to gauge for himself if the affect she’d had on him had waned, if he’d imagined the potency of it. If anything, it had increased.
This can’t be natural.
“What? What do you mean?” Her eyes were wild. She looked ready to bolt if he so much as saidboo. Distrust mingled with fear. Why shouldn’t it? He was a stranger. Yet he wasn’t. Like it or not, there was a connection between them. One created, or at least helped along, by magic, he reminded himself. He dragged his thumb along the edge of her jaw.
Her pupils dilated. A rosy color rushed over her cheeks. The scent of her skin made him want to bury his face in the curve of her shoulder and inhale. Sweet and spicy, it was the same scent that had haunted his dream. She was aroused and trying to hide it. Good thing her eyes were on his face. He was hard as a rock, his dick one throbbing ache.
Control came as natural to him as breathing. It was a trait he’d worked long and hard to cultivate and one he prized. He should be furious about his lack of it around her.If I can’t fight it, I’ll use it.He’d have to be careful it didn’t turn around and bite him in the ass.
Hunting was all about patience and strategy. She was as skittish as a deer facing the big, bad wolf. Spooking her wouldn’t help his cause. Time to take another track. “Your dreams as an artist.”
“An artist?” Her brow furrowed, and she pulled her composure around her like she had her sweater—a barrier between her and the world.
“Yes.” If he’d learned anything in his life, it was that a person’s passions were a way to get them to open up. He didn’t see it as dishonest, as he was genuinely interested. “You have talent and a unique perspective.”
She licked her lips, drawing his attention to her plump lower lip, practically begging him to taste it. “Ah, thank you.”
Sensing the softening in her stance, he pushed a little harder. “Do you have more or was this a lone one?” He indicated the package.
