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When his mouth hovered over hers, she rose up to meet him. Reality had already slipped away. Kissing him might not be the smartest move but screw it. Her life had already been blown off the rails. If this was a mistake, she’d own it.
What she couldn’t live with was regret. She’d built a life around safety and security. It was what she’d wanted, what she’d needed. By necessity, she’d built walls around her heart to keep people out. In spite of her best efforts, Kade had slipped past her guard.
A low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest. Not a groan, but an honest-to-God growl. Like a wolf. It was sexy as hell. The man was built like a god. His abs rippled. His biceps were huge. But he wasn’t bulky, like a body builder. It was strength honed from hard work. Or maybe it was genetic. Either way, it worked.
He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue tangling with hers, ramping up the heat level. She speared her fingers into his hair. It was soft and thick like his fur. Kade really was her gray wolf come to life. No wonder she was enthralled. It was better than any paranormal romance novel she’d ever read. He wasn’t between the pages of a book or on the canvas. He was solid. Real.
But was it real or magic?
A cold chill snaked down her spine. Breathless, she pulled away. His eyes were hooded, his hair tousled, giving him a sleepy, sexy vibe. She imagined he’d look this way when he tumbled out of bed in the morning. “What are we doing?”
“Damn it.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath. “Should I apologize?”
“No, I was as much part of it as you. I’ve crossed paths with lots of handsome men before, but none of them ever affected me the way you do.” The curl of his lip and slight snarl when she mentioned other men gave her ego a boost. Probably not smart, but that didn’t change a thing.
He slumped back against the couch and huffed out a breath. Reaching between his legs, he adjusted himself. His erection was prominently outlined against the fabric of his jeans. Watching him set her core to pulsing. “Whether it’s partly fueled by magic, I can’t say.” His smile was grim. “But I’ve crossed paths with plenty of hot ladies, and you’re the only one to bring out a darker side of me.”
What do you know? She didn’t like him referencing other women. Jealousy was a new emotion—when it came to men. None in her past had mattered enough for it to be an issue. “Lucky me,” she muttered.
His lips flattened into a thin line. “Yeah, lucky you.” He shoved up from the couch, all lean, animal grace. Even his bare feet were sexy. Damn, she had it bad.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her head was pounding, a combination of stress and hunger—both physical and sexual. She wanted to curl up in bed, yank the covers over her head, and sleep for two days straight but didn’t have that luxury. “It’s probably smarter not to get involved. We don’t even know if it’s real.” How could it be when they’d met less than a day ago? It was time to start thinking with her head instead of her heart. The traitorous organ clenched, as if to refute her claim.
“Safer, you mean.” Hands on his lean hips, he studied her, as if she was some pesky problem he had to solve. And darn him for hitting the nail right on the head. The fact he could pinpoint that meant he knew her better than anyone she’d ever met.
Instinct, connection, or magic?
With him standing a few feet away, his tanned skin slick with perspiration, muscles rippling, and mouthwatering erection framed by soft denim, she wasn’t sure she cared.
Stalking over to her, he put his hands on the back of the couch and leaned down until their noses were almost touching. “What are you afraid of?”
The challenge made her bristle, but she drew on years of practiced control to remain calm and rational. “Of being hurt.” She stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. “Of losing my heart to a man only to discover that what’s between us is nothing more than a vicious joke.” She touched her hand to his jaw. “It would be so easy to fall for you.” And that scared her to death, but she had to be brutally honest—with him and herself. “I’m human. You’re not. Where does that leave us?” Talk about a Romeo and Juliet scenario. And contrary to what a lot of folks believed, that play was no romance but a tragedy of epic proportions.
His silence said it all. She was right, and he knew it. “What if it’s not magic?” His voice was rough with emotion.
“I’m still human.” That was unchangeable. Unless… “How does one become a werewolf?”
When he straightened, she fought the urge to wrap herself around him like a vine. She wanted to shove all her concerns aside, curl into his big body, and inhale the earthy scent of his skin.Don’t go there.The caution was too late. She feared she’d always go there when it came to Kade.
“We’re a different species.”
“So no biting and being changed.”
He shook his head. “That’s pure myth.” He rolled his head on his neck. “But you were right to stop. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be distracted. Not with so much on the line.”
She wasn’t sure she liked being referred to as a distraction. He was agreeing with her, but perversely, she didn’t want him to. All the conflicting emotions were exhausting.Concentrate, damn it. “You mentioned you might know someone who could help.”
He pulled his phone from his back pocket. “It’s more accurate to say I know someone who may know someone. You up for this?” All signs of the sexy man who’d kissed her vanished. This wasn’t the man she’d met at the gallery, either. No, this was the wolf, the primal hunter stripped to his core being. He stood still as a stone, not fidgety or impatient, his expression unreadable.
A cold chill spread inside her. This man was not an enemy anyone would willingly court. That said a lot about the mage who dared to challenge him. She held her hand up and stared at it. There was no mark, no sign to indicate anything was wrong, except for the almost undetectable buzzing beneath her skin and an inner sense that something wasn’t right. “Do it.”
Wasting no time, he placed a call. “Miguel, my friend. How have you been?” He went off in a spate of what sounded like Spanish. She wished she’d learned, but her parents had insisted on French being part of her curriculum. The tutors had followed her parents’ instructions. Or they found themselves unemployed.
“Thank you, my friend. The tequila is on me next time.” He hung up and dialed another number. “I’m putting this on speaker.”
It rang four times. Luna leaned forward, willing someone to answer. A sense of foreboding pressed down on her. A sharp pain pierced her hand. She cradled it against her chest. Something wasn’t right. “Hang up. Hang up!”
The words had no sooner left her mouth when a woman answered. “This better be important.”
