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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Shadows in the Night

Copyrightã2005 Audra Cole

ISBN: 1-55410-556-0

Cover art and design by Sara Creasy

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2005

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Prologue

Watching. Waiting. His chance would come. His eyes were riveted on the small cottage in the clearing. The night was cool, the air tinged with the crisp, pungent smells of autumn. Around him the woods were dense and deep, shielding him from exposure. He only dared come out like this under cover of darkness.

Snap!

Ears perking, he looked around for the source. A scurrying sound, off to the right, alerted him to the presence of some small, foraging animal. A raccoon, perhaps.

Ignoring the intruder for a moment, he shifted his gaze back to the cottage, remembering the glimpse he’d caught of her last night, as she’d come out the back door and stared up at the stars.

He’d had a moment of panic when she’d looked his way and seemed to meet his penetrating gaze with her own. Could she see his eyes, glowing in the dark? She’d stared his way for a long time, as though waiting for him to step into view. Or was she willing it? He wasn’t sure.

Again, the noises of the night reached his ears. It was time to go. To hunt. He needed food.

Stretching languidly, he turned and trotted back into the protection of the forest, his paws barely making a sound against the damp, moist earth.

Chapter One

Talia Coe was running through the woods, her heart ramming against her ribs like a jackhammer, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Branches whipped against her face, raking across the tender skin of her cheeks, raising welts in their wake. And still he was gaining on her, she could hear his footfalls; soft, yet menacing on the damp earthen floor.

You can’t make it. You can’t make it. He’s going to catch you this time.The words rang inside of her head as loudly as if someone had shouted them in her ear.I’m going to die. I can’t breathe!

He was closer now, his hot fetid breath caressing the back of her neck. She could feel the vise-like grip of his hand on her arm as she stumbled to a stop.No, not now, not yet. I can’t look at you. Please don’t make me look at what you really are....

Talia awoke with a start, a scream still lodged in her throat. When she opened her eyes, she found Lucas staring down at her. He was propped up on one elbow, his dark hair falling down over his forehead.

“Another nightmare?” he asked, softly caressing her cheek.

She winced as though expecting the jagged injuries from the dream to actually be there. “The same one. It’s always the same.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucas said, reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp. He plumped his pillow and lay back, waiting. His dark eyes were full of concern, the sometimes-dormant flecks of gold more pronounced now. His lean, taut body pressed against hers and she could feel the thick matte of black arm hair brushing against her. He smelled of sleep and musk.

With the light chasing away the shadows of the night, the bedroom was once again the cheerful, cozy place where she felt safe. The French doors we snugly closed and locked, their transparent glass panes hidden by a pair of white chintz curtains.

“It was the same as before. Why have I started having these dreams again now?” she said. She felt the tears stinging her eyes, but told herself she would not cry this time. It wouldn’t solve anything.

“You’ve had a lot dumped on you in a very short time. I’m not surprised this is happening,” he told her.

It was true. The murder of local reporter, Craig Lynch, in the woods near the cottage, was just part of the trauma she’d had to face in the past few months.

“What we are, Lucas, does it ever...do you still feel the urge to...” she began, then stopped.

“Shift?” he asked.

She nodded.

“We agreed,” he reminded her sternly.

“Yes, but that’s not what I asked you.”

She sensed he was holding something back. Could there be more?

“You know, when Victor took me under his wing, brought me to Arcadia, set me up in this cottage and helped me with my career by featuring my work in his art gallery, I told myself that I could live with my amnesia. I’d just make a new life for myself. Then you walked into the gallery the night of the show and all that changed. Something inside of me needed to know the truth.”

“I will always regret the way you had to find out who and what you are, Talia, you know that,” Lucas said softly, turning toward her.

“Well, I suppose you could hardly have walked up to me that first night and said, ‘Hello, I’m Lucas, your mate, and you’re really a wolf who can shift into human form’,” she said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Is that a sense of humor emerging?”

“I don’t know what’s emerging, Lucas. I wonder about him, you know. I even worry about him. Where is he? What’s happening to him? In spite of what he did, Victor is my father and he’s out there somewhere, running, hiding…”

The memories of what had happened in the spring still swirled around in her mind, rerunning themselves on a continuous loop: Craig Lynch’s murder, Lucas’ arrest, Victor and Lucas’ transformations in the woods that day as they fought for dominance, and finally her own realization that she, too, was one of them. And in the midst of it all, the truth about Victor was revealed.

Then there was Caroline, Victor’s lover, and the devastation the truth had brought into her life.

Lucas pulled her into his arms and she welcomed the warmth of his body. Snuggling into his strong embrace, she let him comfort her.

“You know, I bet I could banish whatever remnants linger of that nightmare,” Lucas whispered in her ear.

His hands moved down her back to her buttocks, cupping her cheeks and squeezing lightly.

She could feel his erection growing strong and hard against the softness of her belly and the heat inside of her rose at once. He always had that effect on her, but lately it had been more intense, keener.

Just that quick, her skin tingled with desire, her senses heightened with the need for him. All thoughts of the nightmare vanished in an instant.

He kissed her neck, her cheek, then his hungry mouth found hers and she welcomed his tongue, using her own to explore his recesses deeply, fully.

Lucas spread her legs with one knee and she rode it, feeling electric pulses shoot up into her womb. Her juices flowed freely now, coating the skin of his thigh with their essence.

He felt hot against her and a thin sheen of perspiration was forming on his back and chest. She moved one hand down to his ass and felt the muscles there constrict at her touch. When she finally slid her hand around and took hold of his dick, it was like a fiery steel rod, its tip already slick with pre-cum.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered huskily, sliding down his body until she could take him into her mouth.

As Lucas laced his fingers through her long, fiery-red hair, she sucked hard on his cock, feeling it grow even more. She traced the distended veins on its shaft with the tip of her tongue, then released the pressure and licked at the head with long, slow strokes. His jism was salty, warm and thick as it bubbled out of the small opening, and she lapped it up hungrily.

She ran her hands up and down his sides and he gently pulled on her arms, indicating he wanted her on top of him.

Reluctantly, she released his cock, running her teeth up the sides as she got to her knees, then straddled him, bringing herself down on his upper thighs.

He sat up and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard, then licking gently over and over. His fingers found the other one and tugged at it until it grew into a hard, throbbing nub.

The tug in her cunt was amazing, and she felt her clit quiver. “I need you inside of me, Lucas, now!”

He lifted her up and rammed her down on top if his dick, driving himself up the thick, moist walls of her vagina with a force that caused Talia to gasp and cry out.

As though obsessed, Lucas drove himself into her over and over. His body was wet with perspiration, his breath hot and steamy in her ear.

Talia felt the orgasm wash over her like a tidal wave. Warmth flooded her core and fire raced through her blood when she felt Lucas explode inside of her.

* * * *

Lucas slipped out of the bed and went into the living room. Talia’s nightmares were getting worse, and they were becoming more frequent.

Pacing the floor, he felt a restlessness that he could only partly blame on Talia’s bad dreams. He was edgy, out of sorts. It had been going on for weeks. He’d wake up several times during the night then get up in the morning feeling unrested.

Even their lovemaking left him feeling partly unsatisfied, yet the urge was increasing. He knew why, but had decided not to discuss it with Talia just yet. She’d had a rough enough time this past year, finding out the truth about her heritage, and his.

He stood looking around at the familiar objects, trying to draw comfort from the homey atmosphere of the small stone cottage. The truth was he didn’t feel comfortable there, nor did he feel they were safe.

Maybe they needed to move, to get a place that was theirs, with no ghosts of the past lingering in the corners.Don’t fool yourself. That won’t stop the nightmares. And there’s no place you can go that he can’t find you if he wants to.

Besides, Lucas knew he’d never be able to separate Talia from this place. She loved it, especially the den off the dining room that she’d turned into a studio. It faced east, giving her perfect morning light through two sets of double windows. She spent hours each day in there with her paintings.

It had been the gatekeeper’s cottage at one time. The main house, a large Tudor-style structure, was a quarter mile away and had been vacant for over a decade.

Lucas liked the solitude. And he liked the woods adjoining the property, in spite of what had taken place there.

Suddenly thirsty, he went to the kitchen and drank two full glasses of water. Talia’s scent clung to him along with the musky-sharp smell of sex. He felt flushed, hot.I need some fresh air.

As he stepped out the back door into the quiet November night, he welcomed the chilly air on his body. Talia was always getting after him about going into the back yard naked at night, even though there was no one else around for miles. But he liked the feeling of freedom it gave him. And in spite of her admonitions, she had joined him that way once or twice.

Suddenly, his nose twitched and he spun around, facing a large clump of pine trees in the distance. The sense of being watched was strong and the hairs on his arms and nape of his neck stirred and stood up.

Slowly, he moved forward, his eyes darting around, scanning the woods for any signs of movement. Superior night vision allowed him to see much more than normal humans, but he failed to detect anything out of the ordinary.

Get hold of yourself, my man. Go back inside to that beautiful mate of yours and get some rest.

As Lucas opened the back door, he still couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of foreboding that had been plaguing him for the last couple of weeks.

* * * *

Talia lay awake in the darkness, her pulse thumping in her ears as the fear washed over her. She’d pretended to be asleep when Lucas slipped quietly from their bed and left the room.

The nightmare had shaken her, left her feeling frightened and unsure. Even making love with Lucas had not alleviated the stress she felt deep within her soul.

Last May, when she’d discovered the truth about Victor and Lucas, she’d felt a relief that was monumental. At least now, she knew who and what she really was.

So, why can’t I be happy with that? Why can’t I just accept what Lucas and I have together? Why can’t I just be at peace with what we are and the decision we made about how we will live out our lives?

Because he’s still out there somewhere. Victor. Wanted by the police. On the run. My father. A murderer.

Beads of perspiration peppered her brow and upper lip, yet she suddenly felt very cold, and very alone.

Chapter Two

Caroline Thomas was in a cranky mood. A restless night spent tossing and turning, accompanied by frequent trips to the bathroom, had left her feeling unrested and irritable.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, as she stepped from the shower. Involuntarily putting one hand on her distended belly, she felt another kick. “You never sleep, I’ll swear.”

During the past month, the baby had become more and more active. The wee hours seemed to be his favorite time to play, often resulting in nights like the one she’d just spent.

Too bad I can’t take the day off and let Jeremy handle things, she thought, knowing that that was impossible since there was so much to do in preparation for the upcoming Christmas show only six weeks away. She could hardly trust things to her young assistant at this point. Now that she was the sole proprietor of the Kane Art Gallery, the responsibility was hers. Nothing could go wrong.

This would be her chance to show the art world that she was capable of taking over where Victor had left off. He may have left her and their baby, but he was not going to leave them with no future. She had worked hard during the past few months to save the gallery’s reputation, and this show would prove she’d succeeded.

Vigorously toweling herself dry, she stepped to the full-length mirror and fluffed out her thick, raven hair. Then she assessed herself head to toe. She’d only gained fourteen pounds so far, and her obstetrician was singing her praises. Her breasts were ripe, the nipples large and hard. She’d breastfeed, of course. The ultrasound had revealed that the child she carried was a boy. A son. Victor’s son.

Rubbing her hands over her abdomen, she let one slide down between her legs. At once the moisture flowed and she massaged herself, enjoying the pulses it sent up into her womb. With her other hand, she found one nipple and pulled at it, increasing the pressure with each stroke. Her body vibrated slightly as the connection between what each hand was doing added to the desire she felt. Pleasure washed over her. Probing the thick walls of her own vagina with one finger, she felt the muscles tighten. As she came, she watched her reflection in the mirror, saw her pupils dilate, saw her face flush a rosy pink. He knees felt weak all at once and she hurriedly sat down on the toilet seat. As the warmth engulfed her, she closed her eyes and just enjoyed the sensations.

Not quite as satisfying as when Jeremy does it, but it will have to do for now.

Then a resounding kick from within startled her from her post-coital reverie, and she got up and began to dress.

Cheer up, she told herself.It’s Wednesday, hump day. Soon it will be the weekend again and maybe you’ll be able to get some rest. But she knew that would be a luxury, if it even happened at all. Having the sole responsibility for the gallery resting on her shoulders alone was a mighty burden sometimes. Then again, it was what gave her life some purpose.

After applying minimal makeup, she brushed on some black mascara, since it really helped accentuate her azure eyes. Her hair, worn short, needed little maintenance and seemed to always fall into place.It’s all in the cut, she thought as she left the bathroom.

As she came downstairs, she surveyed the changes she’d made to her condo. Gone were the angular pieces, glass-topped tables and artificial flowers, replaced months ago by plush, overstuffed furniture, soft lighting, a fountain, and lots of live green plants. It all went toward providing her with a comforting haven to come home to after a hard day’s work. A soothing place for her and the baby.

The nursery had been ready for a month. She’d chosen light blue and off-white, using a teddy bear theme. Soft, cuddly, safe.

Breakfast would be the usual, a health bar and orange juice. As she ate, she planned out her day. There was a meeting with two artists to view their work prior to signing them up for the Christmas show. Thank God both lived just outside of Arcadia, so she didn’t have far to travel. Then she had a Council of the Arts luncheon to attend. It would be boring, but she needed to network with art patrons. They had the money.

Going to the sink, she glanced out her window into the courtyard. A moving van was parked there and several burly, uniformed men were unloading furniture into one the condos. She watched for a moment, as the movers took in a long, tan sofa and several traditional-style table lamps. Then she saw a man who was not wearing a mover’s uniform emerge from the front door and go up the ramp into the back of the truck. Shortly, he came back down carrying a computer monitor. The new tenant? She couldn’t make out a lot of details from this distance, but he was tall and wore a well-fitted pair of blue jeans, and she couldn’t help but admire the way they hugged his behind.

Stop it! Lord Almighty. Is there anything more pitiful than a horny pregnant woman?

Thoughts of sex immediately brought Victor to mind. The passion they’d shared had been like a fire that could not be extinguished. She missed him. Every day. Every night. She longed for his touch, longed to feel his arms around her.

The police had finally given up coming around to ask if he’d been in touch with her. Of course, he was still wanted for Craig Lynch’s murder. She just prayed he was safe, that no harm had come to him.

Resentment coiled up in her like a snake as she thought about the lies his daughter, Talia, and that weird boyfriend of hers had tried to get her to believe. Ridiculous things. Untrue things. Shape shifters. Wolves. What garbage. She’d been in the woods that day and all she could recall was Victor and Lucas yelling at each other and coming to blows. Then Victor admitted he’d been responsible for that reporter’s death, all to protect Talia. Resentment still bubbled to the surface whenever she thought of it.

Enough! Let it go. Move on. You have to concentrate on building a future for you and your baby.

Rinsing her glass and plate in the sink, Caroline gathered up her briefcase, purse and keys.

In the courtyard, she again saw the man in the blue jeans, only this time, he returned the glance, as though sensing he was being watched.

Oh, great, my new neighbor just caught me looking at his ass, she thought as his grin told her he’d indeed done just that.

Chapter Three

Lucas entered the antique shop and flipped on the overhead lights. Scanning the interior briefly as he always did when he first arrived in the morning, he punched in the code that would deactivate the alarm system. He had installed the mechanism a couple of months ago, when he’d increased the insurance coverage on the contents of the store. That alone had dropped his rates significantly.

He was a tall man, with a long, narrow face that sported a neatly trimmed black goatee. Lately he’d put on a few pounds, but he knew he didn’t dare complain about it to Talia, because she would just say what she always did; that he’d been too thin to begin with and could use the weight.

All in all, he was pleased with the way business had increased lately. Of course the publicity surrounding the events in May had brought in a parade of the curious, many of whom never returned once they’d gawked at him and asked their questions about ‘just what happened out there that day?’ However, some did return to purchase items and kept coming back. Word of mouth was the best advertising, and now he had a steady clientele, some of whom would actually bring their wish lists to him so that he could go out to sales and auctions and find the items they wanted.

The shop was a little crowded with new inventory at the moment, the result of an auction he’d attended a week ago. He’d picked up several larger pieces. But unless he missed his guess, many of the items would be sold soon.

The upstairs, where he had lived when he first arrived in Arcadia, was now used to show items that weren’t as expensive or exclusive as the ones downstairs. Dubbing it ‘Grandma’s Attic’, he stocked it with items that could not be classified as real antiques. It got people into the store, hoping to find a bargain, and many times they would leave with one of the nicer pieces, also.

Going to the front window, he pulled the cord that would roll up the rattan blind. As he did so, he saw Caroline drive by in her sleek black Mercedes, obviously on the way to the gallery. Regret surged through him as he thought about what she’d gone through with Victor. Then there was the rift between her and Talia. He was afraid it would never be mended, and that bothered him.

Dragging his thoughts back to the present, he walked toward the back room, which contained a small kitchenette and office space. After he brewed his usual pot of morning coffee, maybe he’d be able to find time to work on the books and catalogue the rest of his recent purchases.

As he plugged in the pot and started the brewing cycle, he heard the bell in the shop trill the arrival of his first customer of the day. An early bird headed upstairs, he surmised, walking out into the main sales area.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks and caused his breath to catch in his throat.

She was tall and slender, with hair so blond it almost looked white. Her skin was like fine, translucent porcelain.

He got the feeling that although she didn’t look at him, she sensed his presence.

She moved across the shop, passing by the counter and went to an armoire on the opposite wall. A delicate hand reached out and touched the polished wood, fingers trailing along its carved surface with a feather-light touch. She moved on to a marble-topped washstand, her hips swaying just enough to make the thin, silky skirt she wore move against her slender legs as though ruffled by a slight breeze.

Lucas watched her, fascinated, yet wary. Something about her seemed oh-so-right, yet very wrong at the same time.

Then she turned and leveled hazel eyes flecked with amber chips on him, and he felt his heart thud inside his chest.

“You have some very nice pieces. That armoire especially interests me,” she said.

Her voice was soft, yet clear. Lucas couldn’t quite place the accent. East coast, perhaps?

The spell broken for the time being, he came around the counter. “I just picked that up at an auction recently. It was part of an estate.”

She looked him up and down for a few seconds before saying, “I’m trying to furnish a house, and I want distinctive pieces. I think I’ve come to the right place.”

He caught a light floral scent as she moved around the room, going from item to item. She walked with grace, yet purpose and he again felt a pang of discomfort.

“Are you new to Arcadia?” he asked, going back behind the counter.

“Yes.”

“Well, take your time. I have coffee made, would you like a cup?”

Again, the cool appraising gaze came his way. “No, thank you, I don’t drink coffee.”

Well, I do, and I could sure use a cup right now.

As though reading his thoughts, she said, “Go ahead and have your morning brew, though. I’m not going to steal anything while you’re gone.” A smile played at the corners of her mouth and her gaze went to the short hallway behind him that led to the back of the shop.

Lucas decided to do just that, suddenly feeling the need to remove himself. She had an unsettling effect on him, one that he could not explain. Once he was in the kitchen, he poured the coffee and took a few sips. He’d give her some time to look around. Most people like to browse and he made it a point not to crowd his customers or make them feel like he was watching them.

When he returned to the shop five minutes late, she was gone. On the counter was a note that read:I’ll take the armoire and the washstand. I’ll be in touch to make arrangements for delivery. There was no signature.

Then he realized he hadn’t heard the bell above the door herald her departure as it had her arrival.

Chapter Four

Caroline entered the gallery and, as she did most mornings, hesitated for just a second inside the door evaluating the changes she’d made to the place since Victor’s disappearance.

The bank of windows along one side of the building had been extended, letting in much more light. She’d gotten rid of the dropped ceiling and installed a network of track lighting that would showcase the artwork more effectively.

Posh carpet of muted rose, with a thick under-pad now covered the floors. The walls were painted ivory, replacing the stark white Victor had chosen. The effect was soft, soothing.

In one corner she had grouped a loveseat and two armchairs around a low lacewood coffee table that had been imported from Australia. The whole idea was to create a comfortable atmosphere, where buyers could linger, talk and exchange ideas. Her theory was that the longer they stayed, the more likely they were to buy something.

She quickly went to her office. Actually it was Victor’s old office, but soon after his disappearance, when she’d decided to run the gallery herself, she’d moved in. Unlike the rest of the building, she had not changed a thing in here. Somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would be like erasing him completely and she wasn’t ready to do that yet.

After checking her messages, she went in search of Jeremy Reese, the assistant she’d hired several months ago.

She found him in the back room, unpacking some art pieces they’d received yesterday for the upcoming show.

Standing in the doorway for a moment, she observed the tall, blond young man. He was lean and muscular with eyes the color of rich, dark chocolate. The day he answered the ad she had placed in the local paper, she’d known that he would fit into her plans perfectly.

The interview had been brief. He was twenty-four and a graduate art student. A sculptor. He was living with two roommates in a run down apartment just outside of town.

He was soft-spoken, yet those eyes drew her in. There was passion in them, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. She’d hired him on the spot, then arranged for him to rent the vacant loft apartment above the bank, which was just down the street from the gallery. In fact, the alley running behind the gallery also ran behind the back of the bank, where a fire escape led up to his living space on the second floor.

That loft was where they usually went to have sex. She had yet to invite him to her townhouse, nor would she. She much preferred to keep their trysts a secret, and the alleyway access to their little love nest was perfect.

He was amazing in bed. The first time had been the week after he’d started working for her. It had been explosive and full of raw passion that had left her pleasantly exhausted. The fact she was pregnant only seemed to heighten his desire.

“You going to stand there staring at me all morning or do you want to come evaluate these paintings?” came his well-modulated voice from the other side of the room.

Caroline shook herself free of her daydreams and smiled. “Just admiring the view,” she replied with a wicked grin.

She went up to him and ran a hand over the blue T-shirt, feeling the rippling muscles of his chest and abdomen underneath.

He pulled her against him as far as her distended belly would allow. “Good morning, first of all,” he said, running his hand down her back to her buttocks where he cupped each cheek in a palm.

“Fresh,” she teased. Then something over his shoulder caught her eye. It was a painting so unusual, both in subject matter and color, that she had to take a closer look. Stepping out of his embrace she went to the canvas. “Who is this from? When did it come in? I don’t recall anything like this being mentioned.”

He came up behind her. “Whoa! One question at a time. It is good, isn’t it? And totally different for this artist. She’s local. And has become quite popular. She sent it with a note, by messenger.”

Sensing she wasn’t getting the entire story, Caroline turned and looked up at Jeremy, who towered over her. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

“Just keep an open mind, okay?” he pleaded, adding, “After this was delivered, I called her. She’s coming in later with a few other pieces for us to look at. Just give her a chance. We almost have to include her, she’s got a good following here now and people will think it’s weird if we don’t.”

Caroline waited, staring up at him.

“It’s Talia Coe,” he finally admitted, smiling slightly.

Caroline felt her cheeks flush with anger. “I told you....” she began, then stopped. He was right, of course. She had to include her in the show. “Fine, we’ll use two of her pieces. That’s all! And you deal with her.”

Jeremy’s smile broadened. He reached for her and she slid easily into his arms again. He smelled like sandalwood and musk and she wanted him now. As though sensing her need, he rubbed her back, then whispered. “Did you lock the front door? We’re not open for another half hour.”

No, she hadn’t locked the front door. But at that moment it didn’t seem to matter. The sofa in her office would have to do for now; they’d go to his place later. Her need for him was not going to be satisfied easily today.

She let him undress her, then did the same to him. His cock was fully erect by the time she got to his belt buckle, so she took her time there, running her fingers over the bulge in his jeans while he tweaked her nipples.

It felt so good. Her breasts were tight, swollen and hard because of the pregnancy adding to the erotic pleasure she felt when they were touched. Now, as he sucked on first one then the other, she could feel something like contractions starting near her womb.Delicious!

Once she unzipped his pants and released his cock, she ran her fingers over it, first lightly, then with more force. The veins pulsed beneath her touch and jism bubbled over the top. He was young, so the hormones were still raging, which was fine with her since she was only in the relationship for the sex. There was no talk of commitment, no mentioning the ‘L’ word, no frills. At this stage in her life, that suited her just fine.

Jeremy moved her to the couch and lowered her gently down. His lips found her breasts again, then quickly moved down to her abdomen. “You’re more gorgeous each day,” he whispered, kissing her navel.

The baby responded with a kick, and he smiled. “Not you, silly, your mother.”

Then his mouth continued its journey and Caroline spread her legs, moaning as his tongue sought and found her clit, flicking at it lightly, then taking the swelling nub between his lips and sucking.

She felt the orgasm building, the warmth spreading, the tingling inside of her increasing until the muscles began to throb.

Then he pulled her into a sitting position, sat down next to her and positioned her backward on his lap.

His cock was hot as it found its mark, and she felt the muscles of her vagina contract again as a new wave of pleasure coursed through her body.

She rode him wildly, pressing her buttocks back against the tight muscles of his stomach. His hands grasped her breasts, kneading them, tugging at the nipples.

“Oh, more, harder...don’t stop, I’m coming again,” she said through gritted teeth as another climax shot through her.

Then, she felt him relax, felt the warm afterglow begin inside of her and sighed contentedly.

“Always so good,” he whispered in her ear.

As she leaned back against his sweat-slick body, she wondered if he had many other women, or girls in his life. Not that it mattered. He could have all the other lovers he wanted. Her personal relationship with him started and ended in bed. She would never allow herself to become emotionally involved with another man. Not after what had happened with Victor.

An hour later, Caroline was busy in her office going over plans for the show, and Jeremy was back in the storeroom unpacking crates.

The upcoming exhibit was going be the beginning of a new direction for the gallery. She had a lot of big plans. First the December show, then in the spring she would sponsor a starving artist show that she hoped would bring in people from all over the state. She’d already asked the city council to endorse it and they had agreed, realizing that something of that sort would bring a lot of people to the town and that in turn would benefit the local economy. In addition, it was a good way for her to discover new talent, a must if she was to attract future business.

Caroline was also negotiating with a New York gallery to borrow several pieces from well-known local artists. This special exhibit would introduce new and exciting concepts, therefore increasing business.

The sound of the front door chime interrupted her thoughts and she got up, walking through the short hallway leading to the main showroom. A glimpse of Talia as she came inside and Jeremy rushing to help her with the two paintings she was carrying was all Caroline needed to convince herself that she should return to her office and close the door.

Chapter Five

Having only spoken to Talia Coe on the phone, Jeremy was pleasantly surprised at the graceful, sensual-looking woman with the thick mane of coppery hair who had just entered the gallery and introduced herself.

“I know I’m a little early, but I was in town to meet Lucas for lunch and thought I’d drop these off beforehand. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, in a voice that hinted at huskiness. She had an air about her, seductive yet innocent. He felt his pulse quicken just a little.

“Don’t mind at all. Come in. Let me see what you’ve brought,” he said, clearing his throat several times just to get that much out.

“Well, I only brought two others. If you show them and the one I had delivered, that will give me three...”

Jeremy shook his head. “I’ve talked to Caroline. She’s allowing you two. I’m sorry, but she feels that since you had so many exhibited in the last show in the spring...well she wants to give others a chance, too.” He could see the disappointment in her eyes, but what could he do? Again, he wondered about Caroline’s dislike of Talia.

“I understand. I’d just hoped...” she began, then stopped.

“Maybe I can get her to reconsider,” he offered.

“No. Don’t do that. I don’t want you getting into trouble. Is Caroline here? I’d like to say hello.”

Again, there was a hopeful quality in her tone. But Caroline’s instructions had been clear. She did not want to see or speak to Talia Coe.

“Uhh...she’s on a...conference call. The show, you know. Sorry,” he mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“I understand,” she said simply, turning to go. “I’ll let you decide which two paintings you want to exhibit. Just put the other one aside and I’ll get it later.”

“Wait!” he blurted before he knew he’d said it.

She turned and he saw the luxuriant hair fan out. As he stepped closer, he got a whiff of lilacs.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee. Sometime.” He felt awkward all of a sudden. The confidence he always felt with Caroline was nowhere to be found as he stared into Talia’s disconcerting amber eyes.Sleek. The word leapt into his mind and nested there.

“That would be nice. On the phone you said you were an art student, a sculptor. I’d love to see your work sometime.”

She seemed relaxed, but there was also a watchfulness in her gaze, that made him feel uncomfortable yet mesmerized him at the same time. “I used to live with other art students, now I live alone and I miss discussing projects with them, comparing notes,” he told her truthfully.

“Well, then, we’ll have to get together soon,” she promised, turning to go.

Moments later, as Jeremy watched Talia walk down the street toward the opposite corner, he hoped she meant what she’d said about getting together.

It was Caroline’s voice from the archway leading to the offices that brought him out of his reverie.

“She brought three. I said two.”

Jeremy turned and met her gaze. “She said I could choose.”

“Then choose,” Caroline said, spinning on her heels and heading back to her office.

Chapter Six

Talia strolled along Main Street at a leisurely pace. It was a typical fall day, the air crisp and cool, with a bright sun shining in a clear blue sky. She’d enjoyed her time at the gallery, talking with Jeremy, and decided she’d make it a point to see some of his work in the near future.

With dried leaves of brown and gold swirling in the wake of her footsteps, she walked toward the antique shop on the opposite corner.

The main drag, as the locals called it, was one block long, dead-ending into Carver Avenue at one end. At the other end, Main Street split into two one-way lanes around a large park area know as the Town Square. There was a bandstand, benches, lots of trees, a small pond with a fountain, and a gleaming white gazebo.

As she neared the shop, she glanced in the big plate glass window of the drug store next door and waved at Mr. Reed, the pharmacist. He waved back, flashing her a friendly, open smile.

Talia was beginning to feel a little more comfortable now that most of the residents of Arcadia had stopped staring at her and talking in low tones when she passed. And they had finally quit gossiping about Victor. Of course, there was still lots of speculation about what had really happened in the woods that day, but with Caroline swearing that the stories about wolf-people were just fantasies or works of over-worked imaginations, almost everyone in town had finally settled for the official explanation: Victor Kane had confronted Craig Lynch because he’d tried to assault his daughter, Talia. The two men had fought and Victor had killed the reporter. Then, he’d panicked and left the man lying in the woods, where wild animals had gotten to him.Later,Victor had escaped capture after a confrontation with Lucas in the woods.

People feel more comfortable when they can explain away bizarre happenings with a logical explanation.

“Are you coming inside or do you want to stand on the doorstep all day?” came Lucas’ voice, cutting through the fog of memories.

Jerking, Talia turned her head to find him standing in the open doorway of the shop looking at her with a quizzical gaze.

The gold flecks in his eyes were accentuated by the sunlight and she was again struck by the sheer magnetism of the man. To put it in a nutshell, he turned her on. All the time. Especially lately.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shop, pushing the door closed behind her. “I’ll lock it and we can go upstairs,” he whispered in her ear as he drew her close and nipped at the soft skin of her neck.

“Beast,” she cooed, enjoying the feel of his lean, solid body against hers.

“You got that right,” he teased.

She pulled away and stepped back. “You know, a customer could come in.”

“Then that would only be the second one today. It’s been a slow morning.”

Glancing around, Talia noticed the sold sign on the armoire and washstand. “But a profitable one, I see.”

“Indeed. She didn’t even try to talk me down on the prices.”

“Who?”

“Stranger. Never saw her before,” he said with an exaggerated shrug.

Talia sensed there was more to it, but decided not to press the issue. Lucas would tell her in his own time. “Well, since you’ve had such a successful morning, you can spring for lunch. And I warn you, I’m starved!”

* * * *

During lunch, Lucas found himself periodically scanning the noon-time crowd looking for the mysterious woman who had visited his shop that morning.

“Are you expecting someone?” Talia asked midway through their salad.

He looked across the table at her for a moment before answering, “Actually, I was wondering if I might see that woman who bought the furniture this morning. She didn’t leave an address, just wrote a note saying she’d call.”

“I think I need to hear more about this,” Talia prodded.

“She wasn’t from around here. The accent was familiar, though,” he said absently. The door to the cafe opened and he found himself looking that way again.

Talia crooked an eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”

Lucas was surprised by the question. “Hardly. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

But he knew it was more than that. Talia was his mate, both in body and soul, but this other woman had also stirred up feelings inside of him. Lust? Desire? Not really. More like disquiet.

Changing the subject, Lucas asked, “How did it go this morning at the gallery?”

“Caroline has relegated me to her assistant. He’s an art student named Jeremy. She’s allowing me to show two paintings.”

He could hear the hurt in her voice, see the disappointment in her eyes and it tore at him. The rift between Caroline and Talia was deep and he wasn’t sure whether anything could mend it.

“Give her time. She’s had a lot to deal with,” he suggested.

“Who hasn’t!” came Talia’s quick retort. Her eyes met his and held them. Then she sighed and reached across the table, taking his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I guess, in a way, I should be grateful that she doesn’t believe what really happened that day. It’s not like we want the entire town knowing we’reshifters .” She lowered her voice at that final word, leaning closer to him.

“Who’d believe it anyway?” Lucas told her. “The police are still convinced we’re part of some crazy sex club that likes to romp around naked in the woods.”

Talia chuckled and leaned back.

He could see her relax and was glad he’d been able to break the tension. “So what’s the rest of your day like?”

She threw a naughty grin his way, “Well, I could come back to the shop and we could go upstairs like the old days and romp around for a while.”

“Tempting as that is, and as much as I want you right now, I have a man coming in this afternoon to talk about some pieces I looked at last week at an estate sale. I told him if he didn’t sell them, I’d make him an offer on the whole lot,” Lucas replied ruefully.

He could see the desire flash in her eyes, smell the longing nestled inside of her. As winter drew near, the urges they both felt would become more acute. Soon he would need to explain things to her and prepare her for the onslaught.

Chapter Seven

After her lunch with Lucas, Talia felt restless and decided to linger for a while in the Town Square Park. It was alive with people enjoying what might be one of the last Indian Summer days of the year.

She sat on one of the benches by the pond for a while, trying to clear her mind so that when she returned home she could finish the sketch she’d started last week. Lately, she’d introduced more color into her work, hoping to expand her horizons a little as well as appeal to a wider audience.

The heat began abruptly in her abdomen and quickly shot down into her loins. It happened so fast she had no time to prepare for the fire that suddenly burned inside of her, nor the throbbing that followed. Her breasts ached, her nipples hardened. Her face flushed and she felt perspiration bead on her forehead and upper lip. I’m going to cum right here in the park, in the middle of the day, in front of everyone, she thought frantically. Then just as quickly as it had begun, it ended.

Talia found she was actually holding her breath and exhaled in a whoosh so loud several people looked her way. The fervor had subsided, but the desire for sex was still so strong she was afraid to move for fear she would bring on another attack. So she stayed where she was for a few minutes until she felt confident she could stand up without another incident.

Now there was a dull ache between her thighs and as she followed Main Street to the lane that led to her cottage, she tried to concentrate on just putting one foot in front of the other and making it home.

The narrow road leading to the cottage was called Oak Tree Lane. At one time it was the private drive that ended at the estate of Alistair Creel, a wealthy land developer.

Talia used to walk by the place, often taking her sketchpad with her and sitting on one of the stone benches located in what had once been a ‘splendid rose garden’ according to the locals.

As she rounded the curve and the cottage came into view, she was surprised to see a large moving van rumbling toward her. Scooting quickly out of the way in response to the angry blare of a horn, she nearly stepped off the berm and into a ditch that acted as a buffer between the pavement and the woods beyond.

“Damn, take it easy!” she shouted at the driver, who by now was well out of earshot.

Leaves flew in a wake that had also stirred up dust and other debris. Coughing and still swearing, Talia trudged on. Now, however, her mind was not on the rude, careless driver, but on where he’d been coming from and why.

The estate? It had to be. That’s where Oak Tree Lane ended and she knew he hadn’t been at her place.

Walking past the gate to the cottage, she entered the unpaved portion of the lane, bordered by a line of majestic oaks whose branches joined overhead to provide a lacy green canopy in the spring and summer, but now rattled together like dry, skeletal fingers.

Coming to a rise that sloped gently down to the front of the house, Talia stopped and gazed at the activity below. Standing in the widow’s walk drive was a tall lean man dressed in a pair of navy slacks and pale blue polo shirt. But it was his hair that caught her eye. It was so blond it almost had no color at all and as he turned sideways, she could see he wore it long, tied back at the nape of his neck.

As though sensing her presence, he turned and looked her way, then with a flick of the wrist motioned her down from her vantage point. She felt a sudden tug in her belly, a flutter of apprehension, yet excitement as he began to walk toward her.

Before she realized it she’d met him halfway and her gaze was locked into a pair of hazel eyes flecked with bright gold.

His smile was slow and easy. “Welcome. You’re my first visitor. I’m Nick Stewart.”

He held out a long-fingered, delicate-looking hand and she slid hers into its cool grasp. “Talia Coe. I live in the cottage.”

“I know,” he said simply, never breaking eye contact.

She felt a little off-balance and clutched his hand tighter for support. “I didn’t know anyone was going to be moving into the main house,” she finally managed.

“We’ve leased it for a while. I know it looks like it’s in the throes of wrack and ruin, but it has great possibilities and the real estate agency has given us carte blanche as far as making it habitable.” His hand slid from hers in a subtle move that turned into an expansive gesture toward the house behind him.

“We?” Talia asked, scanning the area.

“My sister and I. We’re twins, actually. She’s an architect. I’m merely a humble artist, I’m afraid,” Nick replied turning. “Why don’t you join me for a glass of iced tea? In spite of what the place looks like on the outside, inside we do have the amenities such as electricity and water.”

His smile was bemused and she found herself relaxing a little. “You’re an artist? So am I,” she said, following him through the front yard. The marble fountain in the center of the driveway no longer worked and was surrounded by weedy undergrowth, but she’d always felt it would be beautiful if someone restored it.

He turned and faced her. “Then we already have a lot in common, don’t we?”

Was he flirting with her? Talia found the idea both amusing and stimulating.

He ushered her into the cool, wide foyer and she was at once struck by the beautiful, ornately carved stairway that led up to the second floor. The intricate design on the balustrade along with the delicately carved banister were beautiful additions to what must have, at one time, been a grand-looking entryway.

“Pardon our dust, as they say,” Nick told her as they stepped around ladders and trudged over drop cloths.

“Where is your sister?”

“Out and about. She’s brimming with plans to fix this place up.”

There was a living room, library, dining room, bathroom and kitchen on the first floor. A small enclosed back porch looked out over the defunct rose garden.

Upstairs there were four bedrooms, one so small she felt sure it had to have been a nursery. The bathroom, however, was quite spacious and included a large slagged marble tub and two matching sinks.

“His and hers, I suppose,” he mentioned when she asked about that feature.

“The privilege of the rich,” she commented.

The bedrooms were spacious also, with tall narrow windows. The floors were hardwood; she guessed cedar.

“Now how about that tea?” Nick asked as they returned downstairs.

Talia felt a hand gently pressing against the small of her back. Turning to face him she said, “I have a better idea. Why don’t you and your sister come to our place for a drink tonight? We’ll have appetizers and get better acquainted.”

“Only if you allow us to treat to dinner in the near future,” he told her.

That disconcerting gaze once again zeroed in on hers and locked there.

“How does seven o’clock sound?”

“I’m already counting the hours,” he told her, escorting her to the door.

Chapter Eight

Caroline was tired. And still cranky. Seeing the way Jeremy seemed to take to Talia earlier in the day hadn’t helped. Not that she was jealous. She had no emotional attachment to the young stud. He was just that. A stud. Someone to have sex with. Someone to sate the need her body felt for release.

Not like Victor.No, not like that. Victor had been her passion.

What bothered her about Jeremy and Talia was the fact that she didn’t really want that woman anywhere near her or her baby. Now with her having paintings in the show, that would be impossible. Sooner or later, she’d have to deal with it. She chose later.

Pulling up to the security gate that cordoned off her complex from the rest of the world, she slid her card into the slot and waited for the automatic wrought iron gates to slide open.

Built around a large courtyard, the community had two u-shaped buildings on either end comprised of seven condos each and one building along the side made up of seven more. Parking was behind the buildings, accessed by a drive that formed a complete circle.

Caroline’s unit was number 109 on the left, and as she rounded the corner of the building, she saw a squirrel dart out from behind a tree and slammed on her brakes. The impact from behind was so slight she would have thought it was just the force of her sudden stop, had she not looked in her rear view mirror.

Unhooking her seat belt she opened the car door and got out just as the other driver did the same. The light blue Nissan was now nudging the bumper of her Mercedes.

Oh, swell, it’s Mr. Sexy-Ass from this morning,Caroline thought as a tall, muscular man with light brown hair came toward her.

“Oh, my God, are you all right? I wasn’t watching, I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed.

He took off a pair of Rayban sunglasses and nailed her with a cobalt blue gaze that made her heart flutter in her chest.

He was wearing an oxford shirt rolled up at the sleeves and a pair of tan chinos. He had a neatly trimmed mustache above a nicely shaped mouth. The thick blond hairs on his arms shone brightly in the afternoon sunlight and she wondered how those arms would feel around her body.

“I’ll call 911. You’re pregnant, I didn’t realize...you need to get checked out...” he stammered, pulling a cell phone from his pants pocket.

“No!” she nearly shouted. Then seeing the shocked look on his face, she added, “I’m fine. I hardly felt it. And the baby is fine. You barely bumped me.”

As though he didn’t quite believe her, he walked to the rear of her car and bent down, looking for damage. Obviously finding none, he returned.

“Guess you’re right. Not exactly the way I wanted to meet one of my new neighbors, but here goes anyway. I’m Neil Wade, unit 117.” He stuck out his hand.

Caroline took it and felt the warmth and strength there. “Caroline Thomas, unit 109.”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I won’t call the paramedics if you let me help you get your car parked, take you inside and make you a drink.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and then glanced down at her rounded abdomen.He has the good grace to blush, at least , she thought as a sheepish grin spread across his face.

“A cup of tea, then,” he amended.

Suddenly a cup of tea fixed by Mr. Sexy-All-Over sounded wonderful. “It’s a deal,” she said, returning the smile with one of her own.

Twenty minutes later, they were seated in her living room. She was sipping hot tea, he was having a soft drink.

“I noticed you moving in this morning. I didn’t realize that unit was vacant,” Caroline said. She was on the sofa; he’d chosen one of the easy chairs nearby.

“The owner moved out of state, but hasn’t been able to sell it, so I’m subletting it for six months. Maybe longer. Depends.”

“On what?” He’d piqued her curiosity now.

“How long it takes me to finish the great American novel,” he replied seriously.

“You’re a writer?” Why did that surprise her?

“So I’d like to think. Of course there might be some publishers who would disagree with that. In fact they have, quite often,” he said with a chuckle.

She laughed and began to relax. The herbal tea was soothing, and she was beginning to feel good for the first time in ages. He had a way about him that put her at ease.

“So, tell me more. What’s this book about?”

The smile widened. “Oh, you might be sorry you opened up that Pandora’s Box. Don’t you know writers love to go on and on about their projects?”

He reached for his drink and she noticed the muscles in his forearm ripple just a little. “I’ll take my chances.”

“It’s a historical novel, actually. About a little-known artist called Mikiel Petrov.”

“The Russian?” Then she began laughing. Out loud.

Throwing her a quizzical look, Neil asked, “Russian artists are funny?”

Between bouts of laughter, Caroline managed, “You’re writing the greatAmerican novel about aRussian !”

Then he was laughing too, a rich deep sound that made her feel even more comfortable.

“I see your point,” he finally said.

“I’m sorry. It just struck me as funny. Oh, not the book, but, well, you know.”

“Seriously, though, you’ve heard of him?”

“I have. I run the art gallery here in town. Kane’s.” She sat up straighter and leaned forward.

“I saw it when I was driving around today, getting acquainted with the area,” he responded, obviously warming up to the conversation.

Caroline felt a surge of excitement. Finally, there would be someone close by that she could have real talks with. And maybe more. The thought both shocked and stimulated her. She was attracted to Neil Wade. How could that be? Did it mean she was finally getting over Victor?

The baby gave a wild kick, and Caroline jumped.

Alarm flashed in Neil’s eyes and he jumped up and came to her. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?” He squatted down and rested a hand on her arm.

“He’s very active. I think he’s trying to tell me something. I’m just not sure what,” she replied, feeling stupid for uttering such an inane remark.

“A boy.”

The way he said it seemed strange to her, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. “Yes. The modern world of ultrasounds has taken many of the surprises out of childbirth, I’m afraid.”

Neil got up. “You need to rest. I think that’s what your little passenger there is trying to tell you. I’m going to go and let you get settled in for the evening.”

She felt a pang like loneliness as he walked toward the door. She got up and followed. “Thank you for making me the tea and for the conversation.”

In the doorway, he turned to her. “I have one more request.”

She moved closer to him, smelled the spicy after-shave and felt desire again flash briefly through her body. But it wasn’t just physical. She wanted to get to know him better, wanted to spend more time with him, talking, laughing, sharing. “Just one?”

“For now. Let me fix you dinner tomorrow night. I’m dying to try out that great country kitchen over there in the condo and I fancy myself somewhat of a gourmet cook.”

“Gourmet, huh? Well, how can I turn that down?” she responded smiling up at him. Again the good feelings pushed the gloom of the past few months away and she felt a surge of happiness.

“Perfect.”

For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. He leaned down a little and she saw his arm muscles move as though he were about to reach for her. Then, he turned and walked away.

Feeling restless now that Neil was gone, Caroline took her cup and his glass to the sink, rinsed them out and put them in the dishwasher.

Upstairs, she stripped down and went to the bathroom, turning on the shower. As she stepped under the hot spray, she thought about the hour she’d just spent with her new neighbor and the strange, unexpected feelings he’d evoked in her.

Then her thoughts turned to Victor. She was carrying his child. Shouldn’t that demand some sort of loyalty? Jeremy. He answered a need in her, gave her good sex with no strings attached. It was the perfect answer for her right now. Plus, he adored the way her body looked pregnant. She really couldn’t get over that. He commented on it all the time, ran his hands over her swollen belly gently, yet with passion.

Lathering up with body wash, she let her hand caress her midsection, recalling the touch of Jeremy’s hands. Then another memory shot into her mind and she was with Victor, here in this very shower, and he was fucking her from behind, his lips nibbling at the back of her neck. She felt herself propelled back to that night when those love nips had turned painful, as she felt teeth biting into her tender skin. But that had been a dream! Victor had convinced her of that. He wasn’t some monster. He was just a man, a passionate man who had never failed to satisfy her completely, yet always left her looking forward to the next time.

Pain and pleasure were often synonymous in their relationship and at that moment Caroline found that she would have taken either one. Moving her hand down between her legs, she massaged herself, probing for a clit that was now throbbing with the need for release.

She moaned, closed her eyes, imagined what it would be like to be with him right now. But to her surprise, it was Neil Wade’s face that floated into view behind her eyelids.

The sound was subtle, yet unmistakable. Broken glass.

Someone is breaking into the condo!

Moving with speed and agility in spite of her condition, she quickly turned off the water, opened the shower door and grabbed her robe. Securing it around herself as best she could, she walked gingerly toward the bathroom door and out into the hallway. Hugging the wall with her back, she looked around the corner toward the stairway, then crept to the balcony and looked down. Nothing. All was quiet.

Taking the stairs carefully one at a time, she crept down into the living room. Next, she walked slowly toward the kitchen, sure she would find the glass to her back door broken out and some masked intruder lurking around. Nothing again. Then she saw it. A small figurine that had been on a shelf in the hutch was now nothing but shards of glass on the kitchen floor. It was one Victor had gotten for her a couple of years ago. A wolf, its head thrown back, howling.

Tears sprang into her eyes as she went to the closet to get the broom and dustpan.I must have had it sitting too close to the edge. Just something else linked to Victor’s memory that is gone forever.

Chapter Nine

When Lucas arrived home, he found Talia putting several baskets of snacks out on the coffee table. On the dining room table were various bottles of wine and the good crystal glasses. Next to them were china plates, white rimmed with thin gold lines, and the good silverware. Napkins of pure white damask completed the grouping.

“Oh, good, you’re home. Go take a shower,” she told him, planting a brief kiss on his cheek.

“Join me and I might consider it,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. She looked very fetching this evening in a denim skirt and a white blouse that was open at the neck. Talia could make even the simplest outfit look sexy.

“We’re having company. For drinks and snacks. I’ve got hot crab dip in the oven and a cheese ball reaching room temperature on the kitchen counter. Now scoot. They’ll be here in forty-five minutes.”

She gave him a shove toward the hallway.

“And just who are these mystery guests?” Lucas called from the bathroom.

“Our new neighbors,” Talia told him.

She was now standing in the doorway and he pulled the shower curtain aside, peering out at her. “We have neighbors? Since when?”

“Since today. The main house is now occupied.”

“That wreck? Who’d want to live there?”

“It’s not so bad, actually.”

As she told him about meeting Nick Stewart and her tour of the house, Lucas felt a sudden spark of jealousy flare inside of him. Who was this guy, anyway? Then she was telling him Nick was an artist, and he felt downright threatened all of a sudden.

“Nick and his twin sister are going to be remodeling the place. She’s an architect. Oops, better check the crab dip.”

Lucas yanked the curtain shut and lathered himself vigorously under the sharp needles of spray. He wasn’t at all sure he liked the idea of neighbors. Especially not this Nick Stewart. And who lives with their sister, anyway? Then a pleasant thought struck him.Maybe he’s gay. That could be why he’s living with is sister. Nothing wrong with that. He and Talia could be friends, talk about the art world. It would be good for her to have someone close by to compare notes with.

Somewhat comforted by this revelation, Lucas began singing one of his favorite show tunes,Oklahoma, his deep, resonant voice echoing off the bathroom tiles.

* * * *

Lucas was sprucing up the bathroom after his shower—Talia’s directive—when he heard the front doorbell ring.

Moments later he heard voices in the living room and hurried out to greet the new arrivals.

At the end of the hallway he stopped dead in his tracks, unable to believe his eyes. The tall blond man, who he assumed was Nick Stewart, had with him the woman who had been in the antique shop that very morning!

Tonight, she wore a dress of sapphire blue that ended just below her knees. The neckline was scooped, revealing very little cleavage but accentuating perfectly formed breasts beneath the smooth satiny material. A lacy off-white shawl caressed her shoulders and looped down over her arms.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Talia. Nick couldn’t stop talking about you today. He’s so excited that a fellow artist is within walking distance,” she was saying.

Then, as though she felt his eyes upon her, she turned and looked at Lucas, and he was again caught up in the full impact of that cool, appraising gaze.

“Oh, there you are,” Talia said. “This is Lucas Knight. Lucas, this is Nick Stewart and his sister, Abby.”

Lucas appraised Nick carefully and was at once struck by the resemblance between brother and sister.

“I’ve met Lucas,” Abby said, her voice soft, yet clear.

Lucas felt Talia looking at him but couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Abby. “I guess I know now where to deliver those two pieces of furniture.”

“I’m sorry I was so mysterious,” she chuckled. It was a rich, deep sound that stirred the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck.

“So you’re Lucas’ mystery shopper,” Talia said, an edge creeping into her voice.

“My sister can be quite elusive when she puts her mind to it. That’s part of her charm,” Nick put in.

Lucas turned his attention to the brother. Smooth. Suave. Slick. All three seemed to come to mind. Gay did not.

As Talia offered their guests wine and food, Lucas hung back a little, still speculating on just what it was about Abby Stewart that fascinated him.

When he joined them at the table he was acutely aware of two things: Talia’s glare and Abby’s spicy, sexy scent.

* * * *

Talia had disliked Abby Stewart on sight. In fact, try as she might, she couldn’t find one thing about the woman that she could stand.

Now, as she watched Lucas’ reaction to Abby, she felt that dislike turn to near-loathing.

And what’s so fascinating about her that made Lucas stand in the hallway gaping like a mesmerized teenager with his first crush, anyway?

As he’d moved into the room and joined them at the dining room table, where Talia was pouring wine, she’d shot him a glance, only to find that he was staring at Nick with a look of disdain on his face.

“I put some snacks on the coffee table in the living room. Why don’t we go in there and sit down so we can all get better acquainted?” Talia had finally said, her voice surprisingly calm and controlled.

Now, as they entered the living room, she didn’t miss the way Abby aligned herself with Lucas so that their arms brushed in passing. Then Talia felt the subtle pressure of Nick’s hand in the small of her back and a chill shot up her spine.

I’m a good one to talk, aren’t I?She felt ashamed of her reaction to Abby now, in view of the way she, herself, was reacting to Nick.

Abby seated herself on the plush sofa and patted the seat beside her, indicating she wanted Lucas to sit there. Again that prickle of jealousy slithered just beneath Talia’s skin and she heard herself saying, “Lucas, could you help me a moment?” Then, turning her gaze first on Abby, then sliding it to Nick, she added, “You two make yourselves at home. I need Lucas to help me select another bottle of wine from the cellar.”

But to her surprise, Nick rushed to her side. “Why don’t you let me do the honors, dear hostess? If I do say so myself, I’m rather a connoisseur of fine wines and the one you just served is superb. I’d love to see what else you have down there.”

Talia looked at Lucas, who was already seated beside Abby, deep in conversation.

“I’d love to show it to you,” she said, her voice sounding tight even to her own ears.

As they walked through the kitchen to the basement door, she again felt his hand on her back, this time stroking her oh-so-lightly.

* * * *

“In particular I’m looking for a nineteenth-century dressing table, with original mirrors. I know that’s difficult, but it must be authentic,” Abby was saying.

Lucas was only half listening as he watched Talia and Nick leave the room. Something about the wine cellar. He’d only caught snatches of what Talia had said to him; now he wished he’d paid more attention. As they turned the corner into the kitchen, he didn’t miss the way Nick’s hand caressed Talia’s back. Nor did he like it.

Abby’s hand, lightly touching his knee, brought Lucas’ attention back to her. She was smiling. She pushed her hair back and it fanned out a little, causing a whiff of that floral scent to waft past his nose. Again, he felt the pull.

“I didn’t get a chance to look in the upstairs portion of your shop, but I promise to return next week and do just that. I’m also looking for some celluloid dressing table items, do you have anything like that?” she asked, her voice silky smooth.

“Yes, several. They’re from various estate sales and auctions. Not much call for them lately. I’ll make you a good deal,” he told her, his gaze checking for signs of Talia and Nick’s return.

“I’m usually not such boring company. You seem a million miles away,” she said, smiling to expose perfect, white teeth. Her lips were almost pouty, but not quite that full. Tonight they were rose-pink. Her cheeks looked a little flushed, her eyes danced with those sparkling splashes of yellow.

“I think Talia really wanted me to help with the wine,” he suddenly said, standing.

Her hand slid from his knee then reached up and took hold of his wrist. Her touch was hot. “Nick can handle it. I’d like to get to know you better, Lucas. And I think you feel the same way.”

He looked down at her. The pressure on his arm increased as she pulled at him, trying to persuade him to sit again.

Just then, Lucas heard Talia’s voice from the kitchen as she and Nick returned. In a smooth move that gave him no time to react, Abby stood, turned her back to him and leaned back so that her buttocks rested against his groin. Still holding onto his wrist, she brought it around her waist and stood there facing the archway leading to the dining room. To anyone observing the scene, it was bound to look like he had his arm around Abby in an intimate pose.

And from the look on Talia’s face when she entered the room and saw them, he was certain that was exactly what she thought.

* * * *

The trip to the wine cellar had been both intriguing and somewhat disconcerting. Nick wasn’t as obviously ‘on the make’ as his twin sister. His moves were suave, and a lot more sophisticated. As they’d gone down the narrow stairs, he’d laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. Then once they were in front of the wine racks, he would draw her attention to a certain vintage by lightly stroking her upper arm and gesturing toward the desired bottle.

Then, of course, there was the supposed cobweb that he saw in her hair, which necessitated his running his fingers though her tresses slowly, almost sensually. That elicited a comment on how beautiful and soft it was and how good it smelled. At one point she halfway expected him to kiss her, but he just smiled slightly, almost slyly, and drew back.

As she took in the sight of Lucas with his arm looped around Abby Stewart’s midsection, her body pressed against his, she felt a slow anger burning inside of her. But it was coupled by something else. Desire. Not for Nick. For Lucas. Now. Sex. Now, this minute.Reclaim my territory. Reclaim my man in the most basal way. Show that bitch who the queen of this castle is!

Feeling the desire to shift into wolf form for the first time in months, Talia had a vivid image in her mind of tearing Abby Stewart apart and enjoying every minute of it.

As quickly as the anger had materialized, it was gone and she felt almost drained.

God, what’s wrong with me?

* * * *

Lucas stepped back and extricated himself from Abby’s grasp. He saw the range of emotions that passed over Talia’s face, then he saw the near-sneer that curled up Nick’s lips and felt a surge of resentment.

“Let’s see what you’ve chosen,” Lucas said, striding across the room toward the pair. He took the bottle of wine from Nick’s hands, turned to Talia, put his arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the lips.

As though a spell had been broken, the air seemed to clear. Nick smiled and joined his sister, who was now seated on the sofa again.

Uncorking the wine, Lucas refilled their glasses, taking back control as man of the house and host.

And when Talia sat in one of the easy chairs opposite the sofa, Lucas perched on the arm, where he remained until their guests left.

Chapter Ten

Talia watched Lucas as he cleared the dining room table and carried the wine glasses to the kitchen. Gathering up the still-full baskets of snacks from the coffee table, she joined him.

The restlessness was back. She found it almost impossible to sit still, even though he’d told her to relax and he would take care of the clean-up.

“I can get those,” he repeated.

She noticed the sheen of perspiration on his brow and frowned. She was also hot, almost feverish and the closer she got to him the worse it became. The desire suddenly tugged at her and she could see the bulge forming in his pants behind the zipper.

Putting the glasses down on the counter with a clang, he turned and reached for her, pulling her into his strong embrace.

No words, just raw passion, unleashed like a hurricane sweeping everything else away in its path.

His hands found her breasts, ripped at her blouse, and buttons flew across the room, bouncing off the wall and clattering to the floor. He seemed delighted to find out she had on no bra and quickly found one of her nipples with his lips, then teeth, coaxing it into a hard, rigid point.

Her clit tingled in anticipation of his touch as he fumbled with the button on the waistband of her skirt.

“I’ll help,” she gasped, holding his head firmly to her breast as he nibbled there.

The skirt hit the floor, followed by her panties. Finally his fingers found their mark and she writhed in ecstasy as he pushed them up into her core.

He had nudged her back against the counter at the sink. Now, he slid her down onto the floor and stood up.

Stripping his clothing off almost frantically, he exposed his shaft, large, erect, veins distended, tip slick with jism.

She wanted to taste him, to suck him until his hot fluid flooded her throat. Her own juices were flowing freely now, pooling on the floor beneath her buttocks.

“What happening, Lucas? I’m on fire. I can’t control myself,” she rasped.

His eyes took on a glazed look, his breathing became irregular almost as though he were panting. His nostrils flared with each sharp breath.

Instead of answering her, he knelt, reached beneath her ass, cupped a cheek in each hand, and flipped her over. “On all fours!” he directed, almost harshly.

She obeyed, wanting it that way herself, craving him inside of her now, ready to explode.

There was no foreplay, nor the usual teasing. This time he drove his cock into her with an almost savage force and she welcomed it, pushing back with all her strength to meet each of his thrusts.

As his searing rod plunged up the pulsating walls, she cried out in ecstasy, her own orgasm so strong it erased all other thoughts from her mind.

Then she felt it, the thick body hair, rough against her buttocks and the backs of her legs. Looking down, she thought she saw, just for a second, the hair on her own arms grow coarser, thicker.

Again she was slammed by an orgasm that made her want to scream out, but instead she bit her lower lip and rode the wave to its crest.

* * * *

Lucas carried a sleeping Talia to their bed and gently laid her down. After covering her with a comforter, he slipped out the French doors into the side yard. Beyond, the woods stood dark and silent under a midnight sky sprinkled with stars that shone like diamonds.

A full moon hung amid the light show, casting a pale yellow glow over the surrounding area. He could see his breath in the air yet the chill of the night had no effect on his bare skin.

He would have to explain things to Talia. The urges were growing stronger with each passing day. Soon, unless she understood what was happening and learned how to control herself, she would be not only confused, but frightened.

The howl cut through the silence of the night interrupting his thoughts. He was at once on alert, nose sniffing the air, hair on the back of his neck standing up. He scanned the perimeter for movement.

There! Between those two big cedars. I saw a shape, eyes watching.

The howl had been unmistakable. One of his kind.

Hunching low, Lucas crept forward, wishing there was some cloud cover tonight to mask his movements.

The transformation was quick, the jaw jutting out, the shoulder muscles cramping, then lengthening, the legs stretching, reshaping.

We promised each other!

But the thought was lost as the sleek, black wolf ran toward the woods to confront whatever lay beyond the line of trees.

* * * *

Talia stirred, muttered something, then started awake. She sat up, clutching the down comforter around her naked body and looked at the other side of the bed.

Empty.

She glanced at the bedside clock. It read just after midnight.

She listened for movement, hoping she would hear him walking around in the living room, or bathroom. Nothing. She was alone in the house.

Where is he at this hour?

Memories of their ferocious lovemaking came back to her in a rush. She’d been like a woman possessed. Was it because she saw the attention he’d been paying to Abby Stewart?

Lucas had explained the scene she’d walked in on and she believed him. There was something innately conniving about that woman.

Talia glanced at the French doors. It was then she noticed they weren't locked. Getting quickly out of bed, she went to them and pushed the white curtain aside, peering out. Satisfied that no one was lurking around, she opened one of them and stepped out into the night.

The air smelled fresh and clean. She looked up at the moon and felt a stirring deep within her that had nothing to do with sex.

Then she recalled the way she’d felt during that intense orgasm, the way she’d begun to change, to transform.

Fear slithered up her spine.Lucas said we could control it, that we wouldn’t turn unless we wanted to. We promised one another we’d never transform again. Not after the awful things that happened in the spring.

All at once she knew where he was, and she felt sick inside.

Chapter Eleven

On Thursday mornings, Caroline was alone in the gallery.

Jeremy’s schedule was staggered to accommodate his classes at the Art Institute. He worked noon to five on Mondays and Thursdays and nine to five on Wednesdays and Fridays. He was off on Tuesday and only came in on Saturdays as required for special events such as the upcoming show.

This morning she felt a little edgy. She’d been thinking about tonight and her dinner with Neil and had to admit she was a little nervous. She’d scolded herself repeatedly during the last twenty-four hours for acting like a giddy schoolgirl.Relax, girl. It’s not like you’ve got a date or anything. You’re just sharing a meal with your new neighbor, that’s all. Plus, he probably feels guilty about running into you with his car. Yes, that’s it. He’s just trying to make up for the accident.

The melodic trilling of the front door chime brought Caroline out of her reverie. Getting up from behind the desk, she rubbed at her lower back. The aches and pains associated with pregnancy were becoming more pronounced as the days passed. She’d also started to notice some swelling in her ankles from time to time.

As she entered the gallery, she was surprised to see that her visitor was Neil Wade. For a moment, before he realized she was there, she stood and watched him.

Caroline had redesigned the way the artwork was displayed, intermingling sculptures placed casually on various tables, with paintings displayed on easels. The pictures hanging on the walls were well spaced with lighting that flattered the canvasses. This was all in preparation for the upcoming show, of course.

Neil was across the room, studying a still life she’d recently acquired. This morning he was wearing a pair of navy blue Dockers and a beige long-sleeved shirt. A pair of brown loafers completed the casual outfit. He looked at home in those clothes; they suited him.

When he turned around and smiled at her, she felt her heart skitter just a little.

“Well, there you are. I was beginning to wonder. This is great,” he said, indicating the gallery with a sweep of his hand.

“It’s a work in progress,” she told him coming into the room and returning the smile. “I still have some renovations to make before the show in December.”

“Quite an undertaking. Do you manage this place all by yourself?” He came toward her, his pace unhurried, his posture relaxed.

“I have an assistant, Jeremy. He’s a graduate art student at the institute.”

“So, who is Kane?”

There it was, the question that was dreaded yet inevitable.

She led him to one of the sofas and sat down. He sat down beside her.

“Victor Kane is the actual owner of this gallery. He’s away right now. I was his assistant...am his assistant. I’m managing things at the present time.” She had to will herself not to hold her breath in anticipation of his questions. Had he heard about the murder of Craig Lynch and about Victor being a wanted man?

“It must be quite a challenge, in view of...” He hesitated a moment and she hurried to fill the awkward void.

“Victor is the father of my child, Neil. It’s a long story,” she said simply.

He studied her face for a moment, those cobalt eyes intense. Finally, he said, “In that case, maybe we should let it drop for now. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

She started to respond, but he was on his feet, holding out a hand to help her up. “One of the reasons I came by was to make sure you hadn’t forgotten about tonight. Our dinner.”

The smile was back and she gratefully slipped her hand into his. His touch was warm, comforting, solid.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she told him honestly.

He still held her hand, his body close to hers. She caught a whiff of sandalwood, tangy and sensual.

Can he see the effect he’s having on me?

The front door opened and Caroline started, her gaze darting away from Neil’s, her hand pulling free of his grasp.

Turning to face the newcomer, Caroline was shocked at the sight of the man who stood there.

Tall and refined looking, he had pale hair and eyes that chilled her.

“I hope you’re open,” he said in a voice that reminded her of Vincent Price.

It was obvious he had money, he carried himself like someone who had been born to wealth.

“Of course,” Caroline said, going toward him. “I’m Caroline Thomas, the director of the gallery.”

“I suppose I’m a little early. It is only eleven-forty. I have an appointment with Jeremy. I am an artist and he agreed to view some of my paintings for possible inclusion in your show in December.”

Neil stirred behind her and she turned to find him right there.

“I need to get going. I’ll let you get back to doing what you should be doing and I’ll go shopping for the food for tonight,” he told her, squeezing her upper arm briefly.

No! Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone with him,she wanted to cry. But instead she smiled up at him.

“Seven still all right?” Neil asked.

“Yes, seven,” she managed around a knot that was forming in her throat. As before, when the door closed behind him she felt loneliness wash over her in a wave.

When Caroline turned around again, she found the blond man examining one of the sculptures.

“I’m sorry for being so rude. I didn’t get your name,” she said, joining him.

He faced her. “That’s because I didn’t give it. And that was rude of me. I’m Nick Stewart.”

He held out a hand that was cool and dry to the touch, and she stifled the impulse to draw her own quickly from its grasp.

Her back was beginning to ache from the tension. As if feeling the anxiety too, the baby began kicking frantically.

“Oh!” Caroline gasped, grabbing her middle.

“Are you all right?” Nick said, obviously alarmed. He led her to one of the easy chairs and insisted she sit down.

“Just an active baby, that’s all,” she said as a new round of inter-womb gymnastics began.

“Is Jeremy your husband? Is he here? Perhaps you should rest and he and I can talk about the paintings.”

“No, it’s all right. Jeremy is my assistant.”

“I seem to have come at a bad time,” Nick began.

Caroline shook her head. “No, it’s all right. Where are your paintings?”

“In my car. I’ll get them. I can just leave them and Jeremy can look at them and call me with his decision.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon...” Caroline said, but he was already out the door.

She had Nick put the paintings in the back room before he left, then closed herself in her office.

When Jeremy arrived, several minutes later, he found her on the sofa, half asleep.

“You all right?” he said, worry creasing his features.

She told him about Nick Stewart’s visit, leaving out the part about her dizzy spell.

“I got tied up. I’ll go look at them now,” he told her.

“I think I’ll take a look, too,” she said, getting up to follow him.

Caroline was a little disturbed by the paintings. They were way too dark for her taste.

Jeremy, however, was enthralled by them.

“The use of shadowing is magnificent!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I don’t think we’ll regret showing all four of them.”

“Well, I defer to your judgment on this one,” she finally admitted.

“Most of the pieces we’ve accepted are full of color. These will be a good counterbalance,” he assured her.

In truth, they reminded her of some of Talia’s earlier works, the ones Victor always used to rave about. Dreary, depressing pictures, full of anguish and murky undercurrents.

She shivered as a sudden chill skittered up her spine.

“Cold?” Jeremy asked, coming to her.

“Just tired,” she replied.

He took her hand and led her back to her office. She felt more than a little fatigued; her shoulders were tight and her back still ached.

Jeremy coaxed her into her desk chair, then walked around behind her and began to massage her shoulders. His strong, yet gentle hands were like a soothing balm, easing away the tension.

“Oh, don’t stop that, please,” she sighed, resting her head against the soft, supple leather.

“I could do a lot more for you, if we went someplace more private and more comfortable,” he suggested. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t we have lunch at my place?”

“I’m starved,” she sighed as his hands moved down to her breasts and lightly tweaked her nipples.

He leaned over the back of the chair, his lips just inches from her ear and whispered, “So am I.”

* * * *

Jeremy’s loft apartment above the bank was roomy and high-ceilinged. It had two large dome-shaped windows at either end and two smaller ones facing the street.

The living room area, was in the center of the expanse, sectioned off from the bedroom at one end by several folding screens. Caroline had been fascinated by them from the first time she’d seen them.

“I picked them up at various yard sales,” Jeremy had finally admitted.

One depicted two Samurai warriors ready to do battle, the second one was of a swan on a lake and the third one featured a collage of colorful butterflies. Behind them was a king size bed, complete with patchwork comforter. There was no closet. Instead, a tall, freestanding wardrobe occupied part of one wall.

The kitchenette along the back wall had a small range, refrigerator, single sink and very little counter space.

His studio area was at the other end but was not cordoned off. When she asked him why not, he said he couldn’t work in a confined space.

“You know,” Jeremy began as he closed the door after them, “if you’re really hungry, I have...”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead she pressed her body against his, lifting her face up for a kiss.

He obliged readily, running his hands down her back to her buttocks, then squeezing every so slightly.

Their lovemaking had always been slow and easy, unlike the urgent couplings she and Victor had engaged in. It suited her now, the slow hand of her young lover. At first this had surprised her. She’d naturally assumed that since he was so young, he’d burn hot and furious. Oh, the passion was there, but gently, soothingly, carefully.

Now his hands came around to her breasts and she felt them swell as he kneaded them, coaxing the nipples out, pulling them until they throbbed to break free of the bra she wore.

“You’re so soft, so beautiful. I love the feel of you,” he told her, his voice low, seductive.

His erection bulged against the blue jeans he wore and she reached out to unzip them, but he stopped her.

“No. I want to undress you slowly, then kiss every inch of you. Then I want you to do the same to me,” he told her, leading her toward the screens and the bed beyond.

One of the first things Caroline had noticed about Jeremy were his hands, long fingered, slightly calloused, yet gentle, and expressive. A sculptor’s hands.

Now they explored her body, fondling, petting, stroking. Her breasts ached for his touch, her cunt dripped its honey onto her inner thighs.

“You’re always so ready for me, Caroline,” he said softly, running one hand down her belly to the magic spot between her legs.

Her clit stirred and she moaned as Jeremy pulled it, then rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth found one of her nipples, then the other and taking each in turn, he flicked his tongue over their hardness.

Near orgasm, she clutched at his head, pulling him closer, lacing her fingers through his hair.

Then, he pulled away. “Not yet. Remember, I promised to kiss you all over,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I can’t wait. Don’t torture me like this,” she gasped, reaching for him.

She fumbled with his zipper, then he helped her by pulling his pants and shorts down. His penis was steely hard, the veins bulging with the blood that was pumping through them.

He rolled her over onto her side, her back against his front, spoon fashion and entered her from behind. The feel of him sliding into her slick, swollen folds sent pulses of pleasure throughout Caroline’s body. She slammed her buttocks against his groin, wanting to embed him as deeply inside of her as possible.

His hands found her belly and he rubbed it in slow circular motions. It felt so wonderful she never wanted it to end.

The heat spread up to her womb and her skin felt like it was on fire as the orgasm burst inside of her. She rode it hard, teeth gritted, one hand grasping the comforter, the other one clutching Jeremy’s thigh behind her, trying to pull him even closer.

The sheer power of her own sexual appetite had always amazed Caroline. Victor had brought out the passion, had awakened longings she never knew existed. Now, unleashed, they often overwhelmed her. Jeremy satisfied her sexually, if not intellectually and emotionally. But today, as they lay pleasantly exhausted from their latest romp, Caroline felt a restlessness stirring within her. Jeremy was good, but was he enough?

The age difference was a factor, although at first she’d tried to ignore it, dismissed it as unimportant. So why did it bother her now?

His hand on her bare belly brought her attention back to the here and now. She rolled over and smiled at him. He smiled back.

“I love the feel of you with child.” He moved his hand lightly over her abdomen, caressing her with that familiar gentle touch.

He was a nurturer at heart. She’d known that from the beginning. Unusual for a man. Yet that had been one of the things that had most appealed to her. She’d sensed the caring, and it had been what she needed then, after the things that had happened with Victor.

But what about now?

“The baby always seems so calm when you do that,” Caroline told him, closing her eyes and enjoying the soothing massage.

“He knows me. Knows my touch,” Jeremy told her.

“Well, if he knew what your intentions really were for his mother....” Caroline said, a smile creasing her lips. “If he knew how you lusted after me...”

Jeremy laughed out loud. “I’ll have a man-to-man talk with him someday. Tell him the facts of life.”

But Caroline knew, in that moment, that the talk would never happen. She could never build a life, create a family, with Jeremy. He was a temporary answer to her physical needs. Nothing more.

Chapter Twelve

Talia felt flushed.My face must be red, I’m sweating like a pig. What’s going on?

She was outside, having lunch on the patio. It was another one of those clear, warm autumn days with a sky so blue it almost looked iridescent. She knew there wouldn’t be many more. Winter’s bite would soon be felt with frosty nights and cold, cloudy days.

The flowers were almost gone in the garden. Only the mums she’d planted earlier were still blooming full force. Their bright, colorful blooms of russet and yellow added a little cheer to what would have otherwise been a dreary tapestry of dead leaves and browning grass.

She looked across the lane at the woods beyond. Most of the trees there were cedars and pines, with just a smattering of oaks and sycamores. Movement caught her eye and she stood up, looking carefully, feeling the old knot forming in her stomach. She never ventured near that dark thicket of trees anymore.

The sight of Nick Stewart walking her way caused her to breathe a sigh of relief. The lesser of two evils, she thought. She waved at him and he waved back.

Today he was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a short sleeved polo shirt of deep lavender. His cheeks were pink, his platinum hair again pulled back at the nape of his neck. One hand was behind his back.

“I’m glad I caught you outside. I would have knocked, of course, but this is better,” he said, smiling widely to expose small but perfectly aligned white teeth. He brought the hand into view, exposing a bouquet of deep amethyst.

“Wildflowers! This time of year?” she exclaimed, feeling her spirits lift.

“Don’t ask me what they are, I’m an artist, not a horticulturist. But they just begged to be picked and presented to a beautiful lady. That would be you,” he said with a courtly bow.

Talia took them, lifting them to her nose. They smelled spicy, almost pungent. “You are quite the old-fashioned gentleman,” she said, doing her best imitation of a curtsey.

Then she sobered. “What were you doing in the woods, anyway?”

Nick shrugged. “Walking. I walk every day. Helps get the creative juices flowing. Speaking of which, I’d like to see some of your work.”

Talia felt a moment of apprehension. After the impromptu cocktail party and the way Nick had tried to fondle her, she was a little reluctant to be alone inside with him. Then she admonished herself for being a fool and invited him into the house.

She led him into the kitchen, got a vase, filled it with water, put the flowers in it and put it in the center of the kitchen table.

“I guess I should have invited you to see some of my work when you were here for drinks, but the evening just seemed to fly by,” Talia told him walking at a brisk pace in an effort to keep distance between them as she led him into the studio.

“This is perfect. You catch the light from several sides. These windows are ideal,” he told her, moving slowly around the room, eyeing her work with deliberation. “These are different. They’re your earlier work, I take it.”

“My dark period,” she chuckled a little self consciously.

“You were confused. In turmoil. The work always shows the inner self,” he commented moving on to the current paintings. “These are lighter, freer, more relaxed. You’re becoming more sure of who you are.” Then he turned to her and added, “And just who are you, Talia Coe?”

His eyes glued her to the spot, the flecks bright against almost gray pupils. Had they changed color?

Talia was reluctant to tell him too much. “I’m a very lucky woman, that’s who I am. I’ve been able to build up a clientele for my work, and I have Lucas.”

“Ah, yes, Lucas. The antique dealer with an eye for fine art. Or was it just the artist he had the eye for?” Nick said, a sarcastic edge creeping into his voice.

Those uncomfortable feelings were back and Talia moved toward the door. But Nick was quicker, as though he anticipated her proposed exodus.

“Tell you what,” he said softly, sidling up close to her, “why don’t we take a stroll to my house and I’ll fix us some drinks, we can relax and get to know each other more intimately. I have a feeling you’re a woman of mystery, Talia, and I’d like to solve it.”

She could feel his body heat. His breath smelled of cinnamon. Her stomach suddenly lurched and she backed away, bumping into the door.

“I have to get back to work. Some other time, maybe.” Her legs felt rubbery, her skin prickly.

His hand was on her waist now, his body moving closer. There was nowhere for her to go. His other hand caressed her bare arm below the sleeve of the tee shirt. “You’re beautiful. So soft.” He ran that hand up to her hair, lacing his fingers in the thick curls and pulling them through, tugging just a little.

“Please, don’t,” she began, but knew it was too late. His mouth sought hers as he pressed closer and she felt the muscles there, the strength. He was as tall as Lucas, as well-built, but she felt no attraction, no desire. At least not for him. In that moment, when his lips pressed against hers she only felt an overwhelming desire for Lucas’ hands all over her, his shaft pressing against her abdomen. No one else would do. The drive to make love to Lucas was so strong she cried out, pushed Nick forcefully away and ran from the room.

Her body convulsed with the need, her breasts swelled, her nipples hardened to painful points beneath her shirt. Her vaginal walls thickened, juices flowed. Panicky now, afraid that Nick would somehow realize what was happening and get the wrong idea, she fled down the hallway and locked herself in the bathroom. As the orgasm began, she yanked down her slacks and panties, groping for her pulsing clit with one hand, while the other pinched at her aching nipples. She poked and tugged herself to the crest, then collapsed on the floor, panting.

When she came out of the bathroom several minutes later, Nick was gone. But just to be sure, she searched the house, even the wine cellar.

 * * * *

Lucas decided to veer off the lane just before reaching the cottage. Today, instead of going right home, he was going to cut through the small thicket of trees that ran along the other side of the cottage and continue on to the main house. He wanted to see just what improvements the Stewarts were making. Perhaps if he got a look inside the place, he would have a better idea of what to look for at auctions. Abby Stewart seemed to have lots of money, so he’d make it a point to keep an eye open for pieces that might fit in with her remodeling plans.

Who are you kidding? You want to see what’s going on there. Something is bothering you and you can’t put your finger on it so you’re going to pay a little unannounced visit.

He’d started down the incline that would lead him to the Stewart’s house when the sound of her voice behind him made him stop in his tracks.

“I see I’m not the only one who likes to take long walks.”

She’d almost purred the words and Lucas turned around to find Abby standing just inches away.How did she get this close without my knowing she was there?

“I was on my way to see you, actually,” he replied, deciding to take the offensive.

Her gaze slowly went from his face, down his body, then back up again. “In that case, come with me to the house. I could use a drink, and you look like you could use one also,” she said, brushing past him so closely that her hip swayed against his groin.

The inside of the house was pretty much what Lucas expected. The grand staircase was the best feature, from what he could see as Abby gave him a brief tour. They ended up in the parlor, where the furniture was made of heavy, dark wood and the sofa was short and overstuffed, its material a deep burgundy horsehair. The whole room depressed him from the moment he walked in. The carpet was oriental, but the pattern was obscure. Heavy draperies hung at a series of small, narrow windows. Along one wall was the armoire Abby had purchased from his shop.

“The washstand is in my bedroom,” she said, handing him a drink.

He looked around for a bar, saw none, then spotted the wheeled drink cart in the far corner. “Interesting combination of furnishings,” he muttered, sniffing the contents of the glass. Bourbon. How did she know?

“This is my catch-all room. I put my new acquisitions in here until I decide what I really want to do with them,” she told him, sipping at her own drink, which was a clear liquid with a twist of lime floating amongst the ice cubes.

Those disconcerting eyes, their amber flecks sparkling like pinpoints of light, looked at him over the rim of her glass and it occurred to Lucas she might not just be talking about the furnishing in the room.

The liquor went down smoothly, warming his throat as it made its way to a stomach that was now in knots. “I may have a piece or two you’d like, in particular a...”

She touched him then, her hand caressing the area just above his belt buckle, then moving down. “You’re not really going to spend our time alone together talking shop, are you, Lucas?”

Lucas felt the beginnings of an erection as her fingers lightly trailed the length of his zipper. He could smell Abby’s essence, sense the arousal. Her musk filled the air, as she stepped closer and put her drink down on a nearby table. Then she did the same with his.

“You know you want me, Lucas. Don’t deny it. I’ve sensed it from the moment we met. And I’ve wanted you, wanted to feel you inside of me. Now is our chance.”

Caught up in the moment, Lucas reached for her. But something stopped him; wouldn’t let him take that final step. The hair on his arms stood up, his skin broke out in goosebumps and his muscles seemed to constrict.

I can’t!

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Spinning around, Lucas saw Nick Stewart standing in the doorway.

Before he could speak, Nick went on, “This is almost amusing. I mean here you are visiting my sister and I just got finished having a lovely visit with Talia. She really is quite...talented.”

Lucas felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach. His gaze locked with Nick’s as they moved toward one another, slowly, watchfully.

As they passed, Lucas felt an urgency to get out of there and hurried toward the front door.

Abby’s voice was smooth as she asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like another drink?”

Lucas turned and faced the pair, who now stood side-by-side.Something’s wrong with this. They are wrong. Aloud he said, “Some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Lucas,” Abby cooed.

“Just a warning. My sister usually gets what she wants,” Nick put in before walking to the drink cart and pouring himself a shot of vodka.

* * * *

Lucas was at a full trot as he cut across the expanse of land between the Stewart’s house and the small cottage he shared with Talia. When he cut through the hedges bordering the back yard and tried the back door, he found it locked. Next, he ran around the corner of the house to the front, digging out his key as he went. But that door was unlocked.

He found her in the living room, curled up on the sofa, shivering.

“What happened? What did he do?” Lucas boomed, unable to control the rage in his voice.

Talia looked up at him and he saw the tears on her cheeks. “What’s wrong with me, Lucas? What’s happening?

Her voice was plaintive, her expression forlorn. It broke his heart. It was time to tell her the truth.

Sitting down beside her, Lucas pulled Talia into his arms. “Answer my question. Did he hurt you, touch you?” he insisted.

She shook her head.

“I’m so sorry. We should have had this talk long ago,” he said, stroking back the tendrils of hair that were plastered against her flushed face.

She really was so beautiful. His mate. His soul mate. Now she was looking at him, her eyes worried, searching.

“What talk, Lucas?”

He took and deep breath and explained, “When you got your memory back in the spring and found out that you and I and Victor were different, I should have told you then. But I knew how fragile you were, how much you’d had to take in about yourself in such a short time. The shock...I just didn’t want to put too much on you.”

She reached up and sandwiched his face in her hands. “Tell me. I need the truth, all of it, Now.”

He knew she was right. It was time. “Over the past few weeks, you’ve become increasingly restless. You break out in cold sweats, then feel hot as fire. You want me constantly, regardless of whether I’m here or not. You become aroused, have orgasms, your nipples throb, your breasts ache, you’re even driven to masturbate to relieve the tension, but even then it doesn’t go away. Am I right?”

He could see by the look on her face he’d hit the nail right on the head. He continued, “Wolves mate in the winter, Talia. You’re feeling the throes of your mating instinct as a wolf. We are shifters. We’re human, yet we are wild animals, too. That part of us will become prevalent over the next few weeks.”

She stared at him her mouth agape in disbelief. “But we vowed to live our lives as humans, to never again revert to that...”

He put an index finger on her lips to silence the protest. “Instinct, Talia. Our natural instinct as wolves is at play here. We can’t change it, or resist it.”

Talia released him and sat back. “Oh, God. That explains so much. I thought there was something wrong with me.”

Lucas saw the anguish in her face and cursed himself for not being completely honest with her. “I’m sorry.”

She brought her gaze back to his. “What now?”

Lucas took hold of her hand and brought it to his groin, where his erection was beginning to become a painful reminder of what he’d just told her. “It’s the same for me, Talia. The need, the drive to have you.”

* * * *

Talia felt the heat emanating from Lucas, smelled the pungent aroma of his arousal. His cock was hard and she felt the blood pulsing there. Or was it her own, rampaging through her body like a runaway freight train?

She fumbled with his snap, then yanked the zipper down. His legs stretched out to make her task easier. She scooted around so she was facing him fully, thrusting her breast out in invitation.

He obliged and pulled the T-shirt up, thrusting both hands beneath, finding her rigid nipples and pinching them roughly. Then he rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling them out, making them grow to painful points.

Her cunt was wet for him, and she scooted around to intensify the feeling, rubbing herself against the roughness of the couch.

Hot jism bubbled over the top of his dick and Talia bent to lick it, savoring every mouthful. Her tongue ran the length of him, then up the other side as one hand found his tight sacks and massaged them.

The need was so strong that Talia ripped at her own clothing and Lucas did the same with his. Once they were naked, their hands sought one another with an abandon that bordered on frenzy.

Talia felt the transformation begin, the hunching of her shoulders, the pull as muscles reshaped themselves and bones elongated and reformed.

In spite of her determination to never shift again, instinct born centuries ago took over and all that remained was the desire to mate with the large black alpha male who now demanded that coupling.

* * * *

Talia awoke with a start. Darkness surrounded her and it took her a moment to get her bearings. She was in the bedroom, curled into a fetal position on the bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin. She could tell she was nude beneath the covers. She also knew she was alone.

Lucas? Where are you? What happened?

She struggled to sit up, pulling the covers with her. What time was it? She glanced toward the French doors and saw what was either twilight or dawn, she wasn’t sure. The nondescript gray could mean either one.

“Lucas!” she called, her voice sounding like something between a rasp and a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. No answer.

Glancing at the bedside clock she saw that it was just after six o’clock in the evening. The last thing she remembered was Lucas coming home. Then what happened? She searched her memory, trying to recall. Then it hit her, and she jumped up, leaving the bedclothes behind and hurrying from the room, down the hallway and out into the living room.

He was in the kitchen, breaking eggs into a large, cast iron skillet. The aroma of the bacon sizzling in another pan made her mouth water, and she realized she was ravenous.

“Lazybones. Now you won’t want to sleep tonight. Guess I’ll have to think of something to amuse you,” he said, smiling at her.

She couldn’t believe it! How could he just stand there cooking and joking after what had just happened? Furious, she strode up to him and pounded his bare chest with her fist.

“Ouch! What the hell?” Lucas exclaimed, moving back a step. The smile faded from his lips.

“You promised! We made a promise to each other!” Talia stormed, stomping her foot in the process.

“Okay, take it easy,” he pleaded.

The frying bacon spit and spattered out hot daggers of grease as though in response and Lucas adjusted the flame. “Just calm down. I explained it to you, remember?”

“We mated like animals. I can’t even remember what happened after I...”

“Turned? Say it, Talia. It’s who and what we are.”

“It is not what I am!”

He turned to her, looked down with those dark, bottomless eyes and she felt all the anger dissolve. She couldn’t resist him, not that first night when he walked into the gallery and not now, when he was pulling her into his strong, masculine embrace.

He still smelled of their sex and she breathed it in, letting it envelope her. “I’m scared, Lucas. I don’t want it to be this way. I want to live a normal life.”

“We can control this to a certain point, Talia. But we can’t change what we are.”

And what is that,she wondered.What am I, really?

Chapter Thirteen

Caroline rang Neil’s doorbell and waited. It was a little after six o’clock and already starting to get dark. The evening was cool and clear with the smell of burning wood from someone’s fireplace in the air.

For this occasion she’d chosen a black silk dress that flowed loosely yet clung attractively to her expanded figure. The scooped neckline showed her more-than-ample cleavage to its full advantage. Black pumps with a low heel completed the outfit. Her only jewelry was a watch and a pair of diamond stud earrings.Simple but elegant , she thought.

Neil greeted her with a wide smile and ushered her into the small foyer.

“It smells wonderful in here,” Caroline exclaimed as the cooking aromas reached her nostrils.

He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a yellow V-neck sweater. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing muscular tanned arms beneath a covering of blond hairs. His chest hair was also thick, she saw now, and just a golden.

“I’m broiling chicken,” he explained leading her into the living room. It was a striking contrast to her own. The furniture was angular, modern and looked totally uncomfortable. The wood was light and spindly-legged. The lamps hung from the ceiling like large globes of various colors. There were few accessories. It had the feel of a place that was often visited, but never really lived in.

“Not my style, I assure you,” Neil said.

Caroline stood in the archway observing her surroundings. “I would hope not,” she finally said.

He laughed and she felt herself relax.

“I have iced tea or hot tea or apple cider, which is also warmed, take your pick,” he told her.

Choosing the least uncomfortable-looking chair, she settled into a white leather piece near the couch. “The hot cider sounds good.” As he turned to go, she added, “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

“Under control,” he called back.

Dinner was delicious and Caroline felt herself relax even more as the evening progressed. Neil had served the broiled chicken with a delicious herb sauce. Rounding out the meal were fresh green beans, baked potatoes and a green salad. Dessert was chocolate mousse.

Now they lingered at the dining room table, talking.

“You haven’t mentioned your novel. How is it coming along?” Caroline asked. The baby stirred and she rubbed her abdomen.

Neil’s gaze went to her midsection. “You all right?”

Caroline smiled. “Fine. He’s just trying to get comfortable. It’s getting a little crowded in there these days.”

She watched his gaze wander up to her breasts and finally come to rest again on her face. Yes he was interested. She’d wondered. Now she knew.

“The novel,” he began, after sipping at his coffee. “It’s slow. There’s a lot of research involved. But right now, I’d like to talk about you. And I’d like to learn a little more about Arcadia.”

“Are you planning on settling here?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you from a small town originally?”

“Oh no, you don’t. We’re talking about Arcadia and you,” Neil chastised good-naturedly.

Caroline laughed. It felt good. “So now I’m added to the mix, am I?”

Neil’s expression sobered. “You’ve been in the mix all along, Caroline. And I think you know that.”

She felt her cheeks flush. Of course he’d noticed, she could tell that by the amused twinkle in those clear blue eyes. “I’ll find out what I want to know sooner or later,” she finally said.

“And I’ll be glad to tell you...sooner or later.”

“Okay, I’ll go first. Arcadia is a typical small town. People work hard, try to raise their families right and live the good life. It’s quiet. I like that. Peaceful. I like that, too.”

Neil seemed to be mulling that over, then said, “I’ve heard some talk around town, Caroline. About a murder in the woods last spring. That doesn’t sound like a peaceful, quiet town to me.”

She felt the familiar jab of discomfort. So, he’d heard. It had to happen sooner or later. “Yes. A man was killed.” Her mouth felt dry, her heart skittered.

“A reporter, I heard.”

He was watching her carefully and she found it hard to meet his penetrating gaze. “Craig Lynch.” Saying the name felt strange, she’d spent so much time trying to wipe those memories from her mind.

“Did you know him?”

She managed a nod, then decided to clear the air. “Look, Neil, if we’re going to be friends, I guess you need to know the truth. Victor killed Craig Lynch, but the police never caught him. He’s still out there somewhere.”

“Why did he do it?”

Caroline finally raised her head and looked at him. “He was trying to protect his daughter, or so they say.”

“Did you know this Craig Lynch well, Caroline?” Neil repeated.

Caroline picked up her cup and took a sip of the now-lukewarm brew before answering. “Not really.” She needed to change the subject. She didn’t really want to admit the extent of her involvement with Craig and the conspiracy they were engaged in at the time of his death. Besides, the truth had emerged that day in the woods, hadn’t it? No matter how she tried to put it out of her mind and deny it, she knew.

Neil got up and began to clear the table. “You sit still, you’re my guest tonight. Let me spoil you just a little.”

“You can spoil me a lot, Neil. You won’t hear me complaining,” Caroline responded.

“Why don’t you go into the living room and pick out a CD. I feel like some music, don’t you? Something soothing.” Neil suggested.

Caroline got up. “Sounds like the perfect end to the perfect evening.”

Neil was almost through the archway to the kitchen, when he turned around, put the dishes back on the table and came to her.

Before Caroline had a chance to react, she was swept into his arms and kissed soundly. He tasted like a mixture of the hazelnut coffee and chocolate mousse they’d just consumed and smelled like musky aftershave, sweet yet spicy. The combination aroused her senses and peaked her desire.

Even with her belly as a buffer, she still managed to press herself close, feeling the peaks and valleys of his muscular frame.

He was the one who broke the embrace. “That should hold you for a little while. Now go pick out some music. Something we can dance to,” he said, before turning and picking up the dishes again.

Surprised and shocked by the sudden turn of events, Caroline suddenly felt her spirits lift.

When he joined her several minutes later, she was standing at the built-in bookcase on the other side of the room looking at the collection of first editions lining its shelves.

“This is an impressive collection. Is it yours?” she asked as he came up behind her.

“Unfortunately, no. The owner has been a collector for decades, I understand.”

“I’m not sure who owns this unit. I’m afraid we’re not one of those complexes where everyone knows everything about their neighbors.”

“His name is Henry Alderman. He’s retired and travels.” Neil told her.

His hand had made its way to the middle of her back and was resting there, lightly, gently. She like the feel of it and leaned back just a little.

“Nice music,” Neil said as Luther Vandross crooned in the background. He walked to the archway and dimmed the lights.

When he returned, she slipped into his embrace. “You promised me a dance.”

The baby moved and Neil nearly jumped back. The look of surprise on his face brought a smile to Caroline’s lips.

“I felt that. He moved. I think he was kicking at me.”

“Indeed he was. He’s already protecting his mother,” she joked, feeling totally relaxed at last.

“He must know what I have in mind, then,” Neil said, nuzzling her neck.

Electric charges shot down her spine and she could feel her heat rise. She circled his neck with her arms, pulling him as close as possible. They swayed to the music, lost in the moment.

Suddenly Neil pulled away. “I have a better idea,” Finding the zipper at the back of the dress, he pulled it down and the garment fell to the floor, revealing that she wore only a strapless bra underneath.

Next, he pulled the yellow sweater over his head, undid his pants and let them fall around his ankles. After doing the same with his shorts, he slipped off his loafers and kicked the pile of clothing aside.

Caroline watched him, mesmerized. He was gorgeous. Not just fit, not just muscular, but perfectly formed. His tanned body glistened with blond hairs, thick in some places, barely visible in others. His penis was broad, the head already shiny with pre-cum.

The music in the background was another ballad, sensual and romantic.

“Now, may I have this dance?” he said, holding out a hand.

She took it and slid against him as his body began to sway with the rhythm.

They danced naked, body against body, heat rising with each sway of their hips.

Caroline closed her eyes and let the music take control. They were in perfect sync, never missing a beat, bodies as one. His shaft pressed into the upper regions of her swelled belly, hot liquid seeping onto her skin. Her breasts felt hard, her nipples tingled in anticipation of his mouth on them.

Then the music ended and the room was silent.

Caroline didn’t want it to end. She longed for his touch, needed to feel him inside of her. Her own juices were running down her inner thighs. Reaching for one of his hands, she brought it to the place between her legs.

He rubbed the triangle of hair, then sought out her core, probing with his fingers while his palm kneaded her outer layers.

It felt so good! She bore down against his touch riding his fingers, moving her body up and down against his bare torso. Her nipples scraped against his chest hair, causing a friction that nearly drove her wild.

His tongue explored her mouth, reaching deep within, probing, searching. She sucked at him, savoring his saliva, giving him some of her own. She wanted to share everything with him, become one with him.

The contraction came hard and fast, causing her to cry out in pain. Pushing away from Neil, she grabbed at her belly. As she doubled over, she reached out for the nearby end table for support.

“What the hell!” he exclaimed in alarm.

She was aware of him gathering her into his arms and moving her toward the sofa. At last she was sitting.

“Caroline, what is it? Did I hurt you? Is it the baby?” he asked in rapid-fire succession.

The pain eased and she sat up. “A contraction...” she began.

Neil was on his feet. “Who’s your doctor? We need to go to the hospital. Is it time? Are you having the baby?”

She smiled in spite of the remaining discomfort. Reaching out her hand to him, she said, “No. It’s just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. It’s nothing. They’re common in the last few months. I’m sorry, Neil. I wanted to do this as much as you did...” She stopped as tears threatened.

He sat down next to her and she noticed he was still partially erect. Drawing her to him, he cradled her head against his chest. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just concerned about you and the baby. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

She breathed a sigh of relief and settled into his embrace. “I’m fine. Just hold me for a while.”

“Gladly,” came his reply as he kissed the top of her head and leaned back so they were nearly lying down.

For the next half hour they sat in the semi-darkness of the room, listening to the music and holding one another.

Chapter Fourteen

It was after ten o’clock when Neil finally walked Caroline across the courtyard to her townhouse.

At the front door, he kissed her and she could feel the longing there. Regret coursed through her at the missed opportunity but in her heart she knew there would be another time for them.

“You want me to come in and see that you get settled?” he asked, stroking the side of her face with one hand.

“I’m fine. Really. I had a good time tonight. Scratch that, I had a wonderful time. You’re a very intriguing and exciting man, Neil Wade. I want to get to know more about you.”

“Same here. I’m already looking forward to our next dance,” he replied with a smile. That twinkle was back in his eyes, but she also detected something behind it, a hint of sadness.

He waited until she got inside, then walked slowly back to his place. She watched him until he arrived at his doorstep, then waved before going inside her own condo.

“How touching,” came the deep, gruff voice from somewhere in the dark recesses of the living room.

Whirling around, Caroline found Victor standing just inches away from her. The little bit of light afforded by the security lamps outside the building seeped in through the front window illuminating his face just enough to make him look sinister.

Her heart had leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice. Now she stood there, her pulse beating in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Oh, my God,” she said her voice sounding far away even to her own ears. She was afraid she was going to faint.

He came to her then, put his arms around her waist, and helped her to the sofa.

She couldn’t seem to ask the questions fast enough. “I can’t believe it. How did you get in? Where have you been?”

He didn’t sit down beside her. Instead he went to the front windows and closed the mini-blinds. Then he turned on one of the table lamps.

She looked up and gasped. His hair was now dyed a deep, rich auburn and he’d grown a beard and mustache, which were also the same color. He was wearing a pair of dark pants and a black pullover. Perfect attire for breaking and entering at night, she thought.

He squatted down in front of her and reached out to touch her abdomen. She recoiled. Then she saw the hurt in his eyes and leaned forward again.

“Our child,” he said softly, rubbing the mound.

“Our son,” Caroline told him. Tears sprang into her eyes in spite of her determination not to cry. She’d often wondered what she’d do, how she’d feel if or when she saw Victor again. She’d rehearsed the scenario in her mind, how she would rebuff him, send him on his way, tell him she had a new life and didn’t need him. Now, having him here, feeling his touch, smelling the sharp aroma so unique to him, brought back all the old feelings. The pull was still there, the chemistry that had given way to wild sexual romps in just about every room of this condo, plus the gallery and anywhere else they could find to screw. To see Victor, to be in the same room with him, for Caroline, was to want him.

“Where have you been, Victor? You didn’t answer me,” Caroline said, searching his face.

“On the run. I’m a wanted man, remember? But it looks like you’ve been keeping yourself occupied. That young stud who works for you, inmy gallery, and now a new conquest, I see. A neighbor,” he replied, adding a tsk, tsk to the remark.

He stood. “What’s going on, Caroline? You’re carrying my child, yet you’re screwing around with two other men, one of them barely out of puberty?”

She saw the irises of his eyes darken to almost black. Fear clutched at her for a moment as memories of that day in the woods came back.

“You’ve been spying on me?” she said, feeling anger flare up inside of her.

Suddenly, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “You are mine,” he whispered. His hands fumbled briefly with the zipper on her dress, then yanked it down. “No man, no matter how young and virile, will ever satisfy you the way I do.”

She knew she should struggle, knew she should try to fight him off, but then his hands ripped at her bra and released her breasts into his grasp and she felt the last of her resolve vanish. He was rough; she loved it. He was ferocious; she craved it. He pulled at her nipples until they screamed in pain; she begged for more. His hand found her clit, pinching it, tugging at it; she spread her legs and groaned with pleasure, imploring him not to stop.

She grappled with his buckle, then the zipper until at last she held his cock in her hands. She pumped wildly. Hot liquid spilled over onto her hand; she pumped harder. His mouth sucked at her neck, then her breasts. She could barely catch her breath as the orgasm ripped at her womb and Victor’s cum gushed out onto her belly, hot and thick.

When her legs gave way, she felt his strong arms pick her up, and then she was being carried up the stairs.

In the bedroom, he laid her on the floral-print comforter and joined her. She wasn’t surprised to find he was hard again. Sitting up, she straddled him and brought herself down onto his shaft. The feel of him inside of her, after all this time, brought cries of ecstasy from her lips as he thrust his hips off the bed, driving his penis further each time.

His hands found her breasts again, pulling then with excruciatingly long strokes.

“I’ve missed you so...I’ve needed you,” she cried.

“You’re mine, Caroline. We were meant to be together. Don’t ever forget that.”

* * * *

Talia opened the back door and walked out into the chilly night air. A half-moon hovered in the blue-black sky surrounded by dozens of twinkling pinpoints.

She’d slipped out of bed, leaving Lucas tossing and turning fitfully, plagued by God-knows-what sort of nightmares.

This evening’s events had frightened her. Yet she knew Lucas was right. They couldn’t deny what they were, nor could they ignore it. The restlessness she’d been feeling lately, the overwhelming sexual desires were all part of her natural instincts as a wolf. But they also impacted her life as a woman, as a human.

For all of his bravado, she saw the signs that Lucas wasn’t handling this any better.

The alpha male thing at work, no doubt, putting on a brave front for the little woman. What now? Do we just cavort around fucking as wolves anytime the mood strikes? How long will this go on?

Then it hit her. The reason for wolves to mate in season was to produce a litter.

The nausea rose up so suddenly she had no time to move, only to lean forward and retch into the grass beside the patio.

Chapter Fifteen

Jeremy looked in the front window of the condo before ringing the doorbell. Caroline’s car was still in the garage behind her townhouse.

When she hadn’t shown up at the gallery by nine, he’d tried calling her on both her home and cell phones but got no answer. Thinking she might be on her way, he waited until ten before locking the doors and driving his twelve-year-old VW to her complex.

He’d never been here before, actually had never been invited, but he was worried.

He rang the bell again and waited. Thirty seconds later, he tried the doorknob. Locked.

This time he pounded on the door and called her name.

After another thirty seconds with no response, he went around to the back and tried his luck there.

After the second knock, she answered.

Clutching a pink silk robe around her body, she stared out at him through swollen, sleep-filled eyes.

“Jeremy? What the hell? What are you doing here? How?” Then she stopped. “What time is it?”

Jeremy decided she probably didn’t even know what day it was, by the look of her. “It’s Friday, and it’s after ten-thirty. What’s wrong? Are you ill?” Concern shot through him like a spiraling dagger.

“Sick? No. I guess I just overslept. I must have forgotten to set the alarm,” she said, still acting confused and disoriented.

Jeremy stepped into the kitchen, forcing her to move aside. He scanned it carefully then moved through the dining room into the living room. When he started up the stairs, she called to him to wait, but he kept going.

She followed him into the bedroom. “Who’s minding the gallery, Jeremy?”

She seemed to be recovering now, becoming more alert.

“No one. I was worried, as I said. You didn’t answer either phone.”

“I didn’t even hear them...I guess I must have been really out of it. I’ll hurry and get ready. Go back to the gallery. We’re expecting that shipment from Los Angeles today and someone needs to be there to sign for it,” she directed as she headed for the adjoining bathroom.

Left alone in the bedroom, Jeremy took the opportunity to look around a little. The bed was a disaster and he hadn’t missed the fact that a black, filmy looking dress was in a heap near the couch in the living room. And her bra had been nearby, as well as her shoes. No panties, though. Not on the floor downstairs and not up here. It was pretty obvious to Jeremy that Caroline had had a hot date last night that had ended up back here for some fun and games that began downstairs and culminated in this bedroom.

* * * *

Caroline welcomed the hot, pulsing spray as it hit her aching body. The baby moved suddenly as though he, too, appreciated it.

When she’d first awakened to the sound of Jeremy’s repeated knocks on the back door, she’d thought Victor’s visit last night had been some weird nightmare. But one look around the bedroom told her otherwise. And if that wasn’t enough to convince her he’d really been here, the dried semen on her belly and the bruises she now saw on her breasts were proof positive.

She soaped up and rinsed off, then lathered her hair.

She didn’t hear the bathroom door open, didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until the shower door slid open and Jeremy, now naked, joined her.

“What...I thought you were gone. I told you...” Caroline began, but he silenced her with a kiss.

Memories of Victor’s touch clashed with what was happening now and she pushed Jeremy away.

“What happened here last night?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just overslept, that’s all...” she began, but he cut her off.

“I can smell him on you. Your clothing is still on the living room floor, Caroline. Who is he?”

She felt the anger well up. How dare he! They had a no-strings relationship. Sex only. He had no hold on her!

“Get out! Now! Go to the gallery like I told you and wait for that shipment.”

Jeremy blinked at her through the spray that was hitting him in the face. “I was worried about you. Tell me what’s happening.”

Anger still flared inside of her. “No! I don’t owe you an explanation. You are my employee, who I happen to have sex with when we’re both in the mood. That’s all. Now get out of this shower, get dressed and leave my house. And don’t ever come here uninvited again!”

He hesitated only a moment, then slid open the shower door and stepped out.

Caroline waited until she was sure he was gone to come out of the bathroom.

As she got dressed and straightened up the bedroom, many thoughts were running through her mind.

She now regretted the way she’d spoken to Jeremy. He was so sweet, so tender, and he satisfied many of her needs. But Victor’s reappearance had changed things. She still craved him like an addict craved a fix. Last night had proven that. She’d never be able to build a real relationship with another man unless she vanquished Victor from her life, and she just didn’t see that happening.

* * * *

Victor saw the delivery truck pull into the alley behind the gallery. Then he saw the young man come outside to help the driver take in several large crates. Paintings, by the look of them. It was the same young man he’d seen leave Caroline’s townhouse this morning, but not the same one who had walked her home last night.

Suddenly the desire to make sure he had reclaimed what was rightfully his was overpowering.

Chapter Sixteen

When Talia entered the antique shop, she stopped in the doorway and observed the scene before her.

Lucas was across the room standing near a large glass-doored breakfront. Next to him, standing almost hip-to-hip was Abby Stewart. The gauzy lavender dress she wore left little to the imagination. The material hugged her behind, and Talia could see that there were no panty lines. At the sound of the door opening and the bell pealing, she turned, revealing a plunging neckline.

Lucas moved away from her and came to Talia. “What a surprise. I’m glad you’re here. We can have lunch. Just let me finish with Abby, okay?”

Talia moved slowly into the room, approaching Abby carefully. “Yes, by all means finish with Abby,” she said quietly, her gaze never leaving the other woman’s face.

Ignoring Lucas’ questioning look, Talia circled Abby, looking her up and down, then stepped away and walked toward the counter.

Lucas stood between them now, as though he thought he might have to referee.

“So tell me, Talia, do you often surprise Lucas by just dropping in during business hours?”

Talia saw Abby’s eyelids droop a little, hooding her eyes to narrow slits. A smirk fashioned itself on her lips.

“Where did you say you were from, Abby. You and your...brother?” Talia rebutted.

“I didn’t.”

Talia’s eyes also narrowed. “So I noticed. Is it a secret?”

“Perhaps it’s just irrelevant,” Abby retorted, moving toward the door.

But Talia blocked her path. “Or perhaps it istoo relevant.”

Stepping around Talia, Abby exited without looking back or saying goodbye to Lucas.

* * * *

Neil had hoped to catch Caroline before she went to lunch. He wanted to spend some time with her today.

“Can I help you?”

When he turned around, he saw a tall, blond young man standing in an archway that he assumed led to the offices or storage area.

“I was looking for Caroline Thomas,” Neil said, studying the man carefully.

“She’s out. I’m Jeremy Reese, her assistant.”

Neil accepted a firm handshake. “Neil Wade.”

“Was she expecting you?”

Neil took in everything about the man; his clothing, which consisted of jeans and a faded T-shirt touting theGrateful Dead across its front. “Not really. I thought I’d take her to lunch. Have you worked for her very long?”

The sudden question seemed to catch the other man off-guard. Either that or he was reluctant to answer. “Why do you ask?” The smile he now displayed seemed forced.

“Just curious, that’s all. Have you ever lived in Kinnard?”

Now the smile disappeared altogether. “No.”

“How about Canton?”

“No.”

The curtness of the replies spurred Neil on. “So where are you from?”

Just then the ringing of a phone could be heard coming from somewhere beyond the hallway and Jeremy turned to go. “Sorry, man, I need to take care of business. Check back later for Caroline. I’m sure she’ll be in after one.”

As Neil walked to his car, he continued to wonder about Jeremy Reese. Then, just as he opened the door and climbed in, he remembered.

“I’ll be damned. What the hell is going on around here?”

* * * *

Instead of going out to lunch, Lucas ordered in. Now he and Talia sat in the back room of the shop and ate Chinese food from paper cartons.

Talia was adept at the use of chopsticks, but Lucas could never get the knack of it, so he’d opted for a plastic fork.

“How long is this going to go on, Lucas?” Talia asked.

He stirred his lo mien a few times before answering. “Probably another month.” He wouldn’t insult her intelligence by asking her what she was talking about. It was obvious she meant the mating urges.

“Will I conceive as a wolf and then need to remain that way until they are born?”

The tremor in her voice was acute and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was so frightened, so confused by this all. How could he and Victor not have known how traumatic this would be for her once she finally found out the truth?

“Not unless you stay in wolf form after conception. But if you get pregnant by me, Talia, the child will be a shifter.”

“Who else would I get pregnant by, Lucas? There is no one else.”

Lucas smiled. “Well, Nick Stewart is trying his best to change that.”

Talia put down the chopsticks and stared at him. “If that’s a joke, it’s a poor one. I could never be interested in anyone else, especially not Nick Stewart.”

“Glad to hear that,” he told her, searching her face. “Now, what’s the rest of it?”

She pushed away the food and sat back. “Abby.”

“Oh, yes, the other half of the puzzle.”

“That’s a strange way of putting it.”

“Not really. Hasn’t it occurred to you that there’s something strange about their sudden appearance here in Arcadia. That house stood empty for decades, it’s practically in ruins and all of a sudden they show up and he just happens to be an artist and she just happens to want to buy loads of antiques. Well, isn’t that cozy, here you and I are, their closest neighbors and you just happen to be an artist and I just happen to sell antiques.”

He noticed Talia’s face flush. Suddenly she leapt up from the table and ran into the back room. A few seconds later he heard the bathroom door slam.

“Something I said?” he muttered.

* * * *

Talia returned to the cottage around three o’clock. She’d spent some of the afternoon shopping, still fighting the indigestion that had sent her scurrying away from the table during lunch.

Now, she was thankful to be home. After putting away the few groceries she’d purchased in town, she decided she would just relax the rest of the day, maybe take a nap.

The knock on the cottage door, however, squelched those plans for the moment. At first she was tempted not to answer it, but after looking through the peephole and seeing Jeremy Reese on the front porch, she opened the door and smiled.

“This is a nice surprise. Come in.”

He stepped in and she closed the door behind him. “I can’t stay long, but I wanted to tell you I’ve decided to add another of your paintings to the show.”

Talia couldn’t hide her surprise. “Caroline approved this?”

Jeremy smiled, and she was struck by his boyish good looks. Idly she wondered if there was something going on between Caroline and this young art student.

“We need more paintings to complete a grouping and I think one of yours would be perfect. Caroline will see the wisdom of it when she sees the end result.”

Talia led him into her studio. “Take your pick. I’m just thrilled to be included at all, under the circumstances.”

“I never understood the bad blood between you two. I know Victor Kane is your father and Caroline is having his child, but there’s got to be more to it than that,” he said as he looked at the array of art work.

“It’s complicated.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Caroline hasn’t talked to you about it?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Not really. Just that she wants nothing to do with you. Sorry, I didn’t mean...”

Talia laughed shortly. “It’s all right. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Some things happened a few months ago that made it hard for her to accept me, or Lucas.”

He picked up one of her earlier paintings, one from her dark period, and held it up to get a better look. “What things?”

Talia cleared her throat, which had suddenly become dry. “You’re not thinking of that one for the show, are you?”

“I am. I think it would be the perfect compliment for the Stewart paintings.”

“Nick Stewart?”

“You know him?”

“We’ve met. We’re neighbors. He and his sister live in the house up the lane.”

Jeremy carried the painting to the front door. “You don’t mind, do you? I think the public should see both sides of Talia Coe.”

After he was gone, Talia hoped that would never happen.

* * * *

A woman with the palest hair he’d ever seen stepped out of a clump of trees into the clearing near the cottage.

Jeremy stopped, staring at her as though she were some ethereal apparition. With the sunlight behind her, framing her lithe figure and creating a halo-like effect around her head, she did remind him of just that.

She smiled and came closer. “I’ve seen you before. In town, coming out of that art gallery.”

He smelled her light floral scent. Was it lilac? Or jasmine? He couldn’t tell. But it was intriguing, almost haunting. “I work there. I’m Jeremy Reese,” he said, taking in the features carefully now that he could see her clearly.

“My brother mentioned you. Some of his work will be featured in the show next month. I’m Abby Stewart.”

“Nick’s wife?”

She smiled. “Sister.”

He should have known that. The resemblance was obvious. Then he saw something else that was obvious.

“I understand you’re an art student. Is that one of yours?” She nodded toward the painting he carried, which was wrapped now in plain brown paper.

“No, I just picked this up from Talia Coe.”

“Ah, yes, Talia. Another artist. This town seems to be full of them, doesn’t it?”

Suddenly Jeremy was lost in thought, only half hearing what she was saying. Then he noticed she was looking at him expectantly as though waiting for an answer to a question.

“I’m sorry, what?” he mumbled.

“Never mind. I really must go. But it was nice to finally meet you and I look forward to seeing you again.”

She swayed her hips seductively as she walked past and he watched her for a long time, even though he realized she was doing it for just that reason.

* * * *

The five paintings from California had arrived earlier and Jeremy now had Talia’s extra painting in hand. Things were falling into place nicely.

When he entered the gallery a little after four o’clock the phone was ringing. Surprised that Caroline was not there, he snatched up the receiver and said a breathless “Hello!”

“I’m tired. I won’t be back in today.”

Jeremy didn’t miss the distant quality in her voice. Something had definitely changed in the last twenty-four hours and it wasn’t just because he’d dropped by her place unannounced.

“How did it go at the doctor? Is everything all right?”

“Fine. Did that shipment from the west coast arrive?”

“Hours ago. I just got back from picking up another painting.”

“From whom? I don’t recall any others.”

“Talia Coe. And before you say anything, I’m going to ask you to defer to my judgment on this. I want to show one of her earlier pieces. It will go great with Nick Stewart’s work.”

“Are you talking about one of those horrible pictures like the ones she showed last spring?” Caroline exclaimed.

“I am,” Jeremy replied, standing his ground. “It’s right. It fits. You’ll see.”

Caroline sighed. “All right. But just one. You understand?”

“Perfectly,” he replied, smiling. “I’m staying late tonight to uncrate and catalog the California work.”

“I’d also like for you to work for a few hours tomorrow. I know it’s one of your days off, but I’m starting to feel like we’re falling behind on certain things, like publicity, the programs, the...”

 “Say no more. I’ll see you tomorrow, unless you’d like me to come over and rub your back, or anything else, tonight.”

“Be sure to lock up before you leave, Jeremy. I’ll see you in the morning, at the gallery. Let’s try to get in early, say around eight-thirty, then I think I’ll close by noon. I’d like the afternoon off.”

It’s over. Just like that. Suddenly she’s just my boss and I’m just her stock boy. Not her assistant. Just the muscle that unloads shipments and does the grunt work. So what turned the tide?

* * * *

It was after ten-thirty when Jeremy locked the back door of the gallery and started walking down the alley toward his loft apartment.

The night was quiet, with only intermittent traffic noises to interrupt the silence. Above, a half-moon glowed brightly against a blanket of stars.

Today had been more than productive on all fronts. Things were starting to move. There was now no doubt in his mind that he’d come to the right place.

A sudden sharp clanging behind him made him start as his heart thumped soundly in his chest. Spinning around, he saw a flash of fur as a scrawny cat leapt from one garbage can lid to the other.

“Jesus,” he muttered, turning around again. The first blow caught him along the side of the head, slicing open his skull. The second took out his throat.

If there was a third, he didn’t feel it because Jeremy Reese was beyond feeling any sort of pain ever again.

Chapter Seventeen

Caroline had had a blessedly quiet night. No nocturnal visitor, no disruptions to a much-needed night’s sleep.

When she arrived at the gallery at exactly eight-thirty, she was surprised that Jeremy wasn’t already there. He knew how much work they had to do getting the catalog, program and publicity ready for the show. That’s why she’d requested he be in early.

There were no messages on her voice mail in the office, so she assumed he’d taken care of handling them yesterday. He was good at what he did, in more ways than one. Now she regretted the way she’d spoken to him. But in her own defense she had to admit that Victor’s reappearance and subsequent disappearance had unnerved her. Where was he now? Was he all right? Why hadn’t he contacted her since the other night?

She settled behind her desk to attack the mound of paperwork that had piled up in just a couple of days, including the bills, which had to be paid. Jeremy had prioritized them, using sticky notes to let her know which ones she needed to take care of first.

When she heard the commotion, it was a little after nine o’clock. She got up, searching for the source of the noise. Finally she decided it was coming from the alley. When she opened the back door, she was greeted by a scene so surreal, she had to wonder if she was dreaming.

The alley was full of police officers. Then as she stepped outside, she saw a team of paramedics rush past.

Caroline followed.

“You can’t go down there, ma’am. Please step back inside,” one officer, who she thought looked about eighteen if he was a day, said.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Suddenly she felt an overwhelming need to see for herself. Then the sound of sobbing caught her attention and she saw a young woman standing against the back of the bank building just two doors down. Caroline went to her, pushing past the protesting officer.

“What’s happened here?” she demanded of the woman, who she now recognized as one of the bank tellers.

“It’s awful. He’s dead...torn to pieces...oh my God, I’m going to be sick again,” the teller cried, running around the corner of the building.

Caroline turned and ran toward the paramedics, who were now standing over the prone figure on the ground.

“Whoa! You can’t come any closer,” another officer said sternly, grabbing Caroline by the arms and stopping her.

“Who is it?” she demanded, her voice shrill, almost hysterical.

“You don’t want to see that, ma’am. Believe me,” the officer told her kindly, his voice softer now.

“Well, well. Miss Thomas. Fancy meeting you here,” came a voice from behind them.

Eyes widening, Caroline whirled around and faced Detective Paul Muncie. Behind him stood his partner, Stan Reed.

Muncie, short, square and balding wore the deadpan expression she remembered so well from the contact they’d had during the Craig Lynch murder investigation. Reed, who was a good six feet tall, and sported a pair of rimless glasses, looked even thinner than the last time she’d seen him.

“Oh, God,” was all she could utter.

“People just seem to get chewed up around you, don’t they, Miss Thomas?” Muncie commented as he and Reed passed her by and followed another officer to the area of activity.

Caroline tried to follow. “Not now, Miss,” said the officer who still held her arm. “Please go back inside. This is a crime scene.”

Caroline nodded and did as she was told. But once inside the gallery, she went out the front door and up to the opposite corner, where she cut through a small passageway between the dry cleaner’s and photography studio. The entire block was now abuzz with police activity and curious onlookers were beginning to gather across the street.

Creeping along the side of the building she emerged near the other side of the bank just as Muncie and Reed were examining the remains on the ground. One look told her it was Jeremy, even though one side of his face was ripped to shreds and his throat was a hollow, bloody cavity.

Suddenly she heard a piercing scream, a wail so forlorn and full of pain she wondered how a human being could be making it. Then just before the blackness settled in, she realized it was she.

* * * *

Lucas approached the gallery and joined the crowd standing on the sidewalk. “What’s going on? Why are the police here? Did the bank get robbed?”

“They found a body in the alley,” the pharmacy clerk from the drug store next to his shop told him. “And I just heard a God-awful scream. It was eerie.”

Just then Lucas saw Detective Stan Reed coming toward them. “Glad you’re here, Mr. Knight. We need you. It’s Caroline Thomas.”

Lucas felt his blood run cold. “What? You don’t mean she’s...”

Reed shook his head. “No. But she knew the victim. Maybe you can help her get calmed down.”

As he followed Reed into the alley behind the bank, Lucas pulled out his cell phone and called Talia. “Get downtown right away. Someone Caroline knows has been murdered and the police need our help with her.”

“Oh, God, is it...Victor?”

“I don’t know. Just come.”

Caroline was huddled on a chair in the storeroom of the gallery with a blue blanket around her shoulders and two paramedics taking her vitals.

She looked up and saw him, then started crying again. “It’s Jeremy.”

“Her assistant,” Reed explained. “Something tore him up. It looks like a wild animal attack.”

 Muncie trudged in the back door and joined them. “When did you last talk to your assistant, Miss Thomas?”

Lucas glared up at the detective. “Can’t you see she’s in shock? Seems to me this can wait. She needs to go to the hospital and be checked out. She’s pregnant.”

“No hospital!” Caroline snapped.

Several minutes later, Talia’s voice could be heard arguing with someone out front. Finally, she came bursting into the room and went to Caroline.

Lucas held his breath as the two women looked at one another, Talia uncertain, Caroline fighting hostility. Finally, Caroline reached out and took Talia’s hand. “It wasn’t him. He couldn’t have done this...”

Lucas stood up and faced Muncie and Reed. “Are you finished with us?”

Reed studied the trio for a moment then turned to go.

Muncie wasn’t so quick. “For now. But I have a feeling we’ll be needing to ask Miss Thomas some questions. Just like the last time.” Then in the doorway he turned, “Sort of like deja‘ vu, wouldn’t you say?”

* * * *

Neil Wade parked his car near the town square and walked the rest of the way to the gallery. When he arrived he found a squadron of police guarding the bank and surrounding buildings. Alarm shot through him.

“Who are you?” an officer demanded.

“A friend of Miss Thomas’,” Neil replied and kept walking. The man made no attempt to stop him.

Caroline was in her office, sitting on the sofa. Neil didn’t know the tall, dark haired man with the goatee or the willowy redhead.

“It’s on the local radio station,” Neil told Caroline as she clung to him, sobbing. “What the hell happened?”

“It’s Jeremy, ripped to pieces. Oh, God, I can’t believe this,” she sobbed.

Neil looked up at the other two. “I’m Neil Wade, Caroline’s...friend.”

“Lucas Knight and Talia Coe. I own the antique shop on the other side of the street.”

“You’re Victor Kane’s daughter,” Neil said, focusing his attention on Talia. “Caroline’s talked about both of you.”

With that, Neil brought his attention back to Caroline, stroking her back and whispering soothing words in her ear.

* * * *

Lucas and Talia exchanged glances as Neil cradled Caroline.

“Maybe we should leave. I don’t think we’re needed any longer,” Lucas finally said.

“I’d stick around a little longer, Mr. Knight, if I were you. That will save us the trouble of coming to look for you.”

Lucas reeled around to find Muncie standing behind them again.

Reed joined them.

“I’m sure the similarities to the Craig Lynch case are evident here,” Muncie continued, his monotone a little louder than usual.

Lucas detected an undercurrent of anger. Shooting a glance at Reed, he saw that the other detective’s mouth was set in a straight line, his jaw muscles flinching.

“What are you driving at?” Lucas asked.

“Miss Thomas!” Muncie’s tone was sharp, demanding.

Caroline looked up at him and Lucas could see she, too, felt the hostility.

Muncie continued, “How much did you really know about your assistant?”

Reed moved in a little, closing off any gap.

“I don’t understand. What the hell are you talking about? He’s...he was...we were friends, he was my assistant...” Caroline seemed to be stumbling over the words.

Lucas had had enough of Muncie’s cat and mouse game. “Why don’t you just spit it out, Detective. Can’t you see Miss Thomas is distraught.”

Muncie ignored Lucas’ outburst. “So, Miss Thomas, you didn’t know that Jeremy Reese’s real name was Doug Richards?”

Lucas shot a glance at Caroline, who now stared up at the detective open-mouthed.

“What? No. You’re wrong. Why would he...” she began.

“Because Doug Richards was a police officer working undercover, Miss Thomas. He was on the Canton force. One of their best, so I hear.”

Reed moved a step closer and spoke next, “One of our own. We want answers and we want them now.” His voice was low, with an undercurrent of menace.

Lucas’ mind was reeling. A cop. Undercover? “Why was he here?” he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Muncie was still concentrating on Caroline, however, and ignored Lucas’ question. “When was the last time you saw Victor Kane?”

Reed was next. “He’s been in touch, hasn’t he?”

“Did he mention Doug Richards to you?” Muncie put in quickly.

“You’ve known where he is hiding all along, haven’t you?” Reed pressed.

Lucas knew that the purpose of the rapid-fire questions was to get Caroline to reveal something. And as much as he wanted to know the truth, he could see she was on the verge of collapse.

But before he could speak up, Neil Wade leapt to his feet and cried, “That’s enough!”

An eerie silence fell over the room.

Lucas motioned for Talia to join him. Then he reached for Caroline’s arm, urging her to her feet. To Neil he said, “She needs to go home. Take her. Talia, you go with them.”

Turning to Muncie and Reed, he said, “You know where we live.”

* * * *

Neil handed his car keys to Talia. “I’ll be right there. Mine is the blue Nissan parked down near the town square.

He found Muncie and Reed near the spot where the body had been discovered. Now all that remained on the ground were the bloodstains.

“Detectives, could I ask you something?” Neil ventured.

Muncie stared at him for a moment, then replied, “Sure, Mr.....Wade, isn’t it?”

“Neil Wade. I’ve heard talk around town about a murder last spring, a reporter was killed. Today you intimated that this one is similar.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere, Mr. Wade,” Reed asked.

“Do you think they’re connected?”

“Why do you care?” Muncie snapped.

Neil was prepared for that one. “I’m a member of this community now. I’m concerned. And I’m a friend of Caroline’s.”

“Has she mentioned Victor Kane to you?” Reed asked.

“On occasion.”

“Mentioned seeing him lately?” Muncie wanted to know.

“No.” Neil could feel things slipping out of his control.

“You’ll let us know if she does though, right, Mr. Wade?” Reed asked.

“I need to get Caroline home,” Neil replied, turning to go.

“You’re new here, Mr. Wade, so I’ll give you some advice. Watch who you befriend. People aren’t always what they seem.” Muncie called after him.

* * * *

Talia shepherded Caroline into the Nissan’s passenger seat, then climbed in the back.

“Before Neil gets here, Caroline, I want you to tell me if you’ve seen my father,” she said, leaning forward so she could look at the other woman.

Caroline seemed out of it, confused. “I need my purse. I left it at the office. I need to go get my purse,” she muttered.

“I’ll get your purse. Now tell me about my father!”

“Jeremy lied to me. He was spying on me all along. I trusted him.”

Talia shook Caroline’s shoulder, squeezing a little in the process. “Victor! What about Victor!”

Caroline winced, then seemed to rally. She looked at Talia as she said, “Yes, I’ve seen him. I think he’s been watching me, maybe watching all of us. He’s dyed his hair, grown a beard.”

Talia sat back and slowly exhaled. “When did you see him?”

“Two nights ago. He was waiting for me in the townhouse when I returned home after having dinner at Neil’s.”

“What’s going on with this Neil person, Caroline? Were you also involved with Jeremy or Doug or whatever the hell his name was?”

Caroline seemed to be mulling over just how much to reveal. “I’m not answering your questions. It’s none of your business!”

“Well, you can believe the police are going to make it their business, so get used to it!”

Neil approached then, and Talia saw that he was carrying what she assumed was Caroline’s purse.

“I locked up the gallery. Here,” he said as he climbed in behind the wheel. He handed the clutch bag to Caroline.

Talia opened the back door and got out. “I’ll walk home. I have some errands to run. Take care of her, Neil.”

Chapter Eighteen

The extreme sexual urges continued to rage inside Talia in spite of that day’s events. It occurred to her that even a grisly murder and the revelation that her father was back in town did nothing to curb the tide of the mating call. If it wasn’t so pathetic, it would almost be funny.

Lucas seemed to be handling it a lot better than she. Why was that? Men always had it easier, didn’t they?

She’d spent two hours in town after Neil Wade had driven off with Caroline. Twice she’d walked by the antique shop, but Lucas had been busy with customers. Although Talia suspected they were just curiosity seekers trying to get information about the murder.

Obviously the police suspected Victor. That meant a whole new round of visits from the grim-faced Muncie and his Jack-Sprat partner. Wonderful.

She’d tried calling Caroline twice during the afternoon, but got the answering machine and no call back.

The sound of a key in the front door signaled Lucas’ arrival and Talia left the kitchen, where she was preparing a light dinner, to greet him.

He appeared beleaguered and worn out.

“Well, you look good enough to eat,” Lucas said, eyeing her up and down.

She’d dressed with a purpose in mind. The last time they’d made love, it had been little more than a frantic coupling. Tonight, she wanted it to be the way it used to be; slow, erotic, sensual.

She went to him and slid into his arms where she felt safe, secure.

“How is Caroline?” he asked, kissing the side of her head.

“I don’t know. She’s not answering her phone. I left messages.”

His hand rubbed her back, then worked its way down to her behind. ”That’s a very fetching outfit. New?”

The dress was emerald green and formfitting, with short sleeves and a deep V-neck. The skirt hit her mid-thigh. She’d known the moment she saw it in the boutique window today that it would flatter her figure.

“Fairly new. Hmmm, don’t stop that. It feels so good.”

His other hand moved to the spot between her legs.

“Naughty girl, where’s your underwear?”

“Oops! I knew I forgot something,” Talia cooed, rubbing the back of his neck.

He found her lips with his, probing the recesses of her mouth with his tongue. She loved the taste of him; tangy, spicy, musky. She undulated her body against his and felt the heat rise, the erection bulge.

Then she pulled away. “Later.” With that she turned and walked toward the kitchen.

He followed. “You can’t leave me hanging like this,” he said, making a grab for her. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes told her he was onto her game and wanted to play.

“Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”

“Food is the last thing on my mind, you wench!” Again he made a lunge and she sidestepped.

Instead, she pushed a serving bowl full of salad into his outstretched hands and pointed toward the kitchen table.

Lucas put the bowl down on the tabletop with a thump and swatted at her behind. “Ouch! That will cost you!”

“I hope so,” he chuckled.

“Just for that, you do the dishes and no playing around until they’re done.”

Lucas eyed the dishwasher at the end of the counter. “That’s your punishment? Dishes? Is that the best you can do?” He reached out and tweaked one of he nipples, which responded immediately by hardening against the clingy fabric of her bodice. “No bra either? Shameless hussy.”

She passed close to him as she brought the other two serving plates to the table. Then, after putting them down, she turned and ran her tongue over her lips, slowly, enticingly. With one hand she reached out and grabbed his cock, squeezing.

“You’re about to find out just how shameless.” With that she reached behind her, unzipped the dress and let it fall off her shoulders. “Let’s eat,” she said, sitting down at the table stark naked.

Lucas reciprocated by taking off his clothing. Talia loved this. It was playful, light and much the way things used to be between them before this mating thing had started. Romantic. A little risqué. Full of joy.

Lucas took a bite of pork chop, then offered the next one to Talia across the table. She slowly sucked the morsel off his fork, licking her lips elaborately after she swallowed.

“Seductress,” he said, adding, “I’m hard as a rock under this table. Why don’t you crawl under and see what you can do about that?”

“That sounds like a dare to me.”

“Double dare you.”

She stood up, pushed the chair back then got down on all fours. She took him into her mouth, tasting the saltiness of the hot jism that was now seeping from the head of his penis. She savored it, licked at him to produce more then lapped that up, too.

He reached under the table and laced his fingers through her hair, but she pulled away, scooted backwards and stood up.

Talia’s body tingled with anticipation, her cunt flowed with thick cream and she could see the almost savage longing in Lucas’ eyes.

He scooted his chair back a little. “Want to come sit on my lap, little girl?”

She eyed his erection, licked her lips then threw one leg over his lap. Now she stood facing him, her pubic triangle level with his face. He pulled her close, nuzzling her there, nipping her lightly, then using his tongue to part those lips, searched for her core.

Finally she slid down, hovering just above his pulsing cock, teasing him a little.

“Oh, so you want to make me beg, is that it?” he whispered, his voice husky now.

Talia smiled. “Would you?”

Instead of answering, Lucas stood up and flung her over his broad shoulders. Then he gave her a little whack on her bare behind, nibbled the nearest butt cheek and carried her from the kitchen, down the hall and into their bedroom.

Talia felt the desire pulsing hotly through her veins as he tossed her onto the bed and stood looking down at her, legs apart, erection pointing skyward.

“Now what will I do with you?” he asked, as though pondering her fate.

Talia smiled, then put the tip of her finger in her mouth and moistened it. She then rolled it around on one of her nipples then the other. Next, she spread her legs and touched herself, slowly, languidly. She shuddered as her clit pulsed. “Are you going to make me do this all by myself?”

He straddled her head, so that his dick was level with her mouth and his lips could reach her cunt. While his tongue worked its magic, she sucked his shaft with force, using the muscles in her cheeks to pull harder each time.

Talia felt the pressure build, knew she couldn’t hold out much longer, yet wanted this to go on forever.

Then Lucas sat up, turned around and pulled her into a sitting position. His mouth found hers and she could taste herself on his lips. Wild now with the desire for release, she pushed him backward, mounted him and drove his penis deeply inside of her. They came in unison; she could feel her own orgasm and his as their muscles contracted and their bodies writhed in ecstasy.

* * * *

A hand clamped over her mouth brought Talia out of a peaceful sleep. Panicky, she tried to scream but could not. Then she just fought for breath. Flailing wildly, she smacked Lucas, who lay beside her.

As he came out of the foggy recesses of slumber, an urgent whisper in her ear said, “Don’t be afraid. It’s me.”

Talia recognized the voice at once. Victor!

Lucas was up out of the bed and catapulting across it toward the man on the other side.

“Don’t, Lucas! It’s Victor!” Talia cried.

The small amount of light coming in the French doors showed only a shadowy figure, but Talia now saw that it really was her father.

Lucas grabbed him and pushed him against the far wall with enough force to rattle the pictures hanging there. “What the hell are you doing sneaking around like that? And how did you get in here?”

Talia turned on the nearest bedside lamp.

“For God’s sake, turn that off. Someone might be out there!” Victor hissed.

“That’s the least of your worries right now! There was another murder today...the guy was all torn up, throat ripped out. Sound familiar?” Lucas said roughly. He still had Victor pinned to the wall.

“I didn’t do it! You have to believe me.”

“Oh, yeah? Why?” Lucas snarled.

Talia was on her feet now. “Let him go, Lucas. Please.” she begged.

“Not on your life. Call the police,” Lucas ordered.

“No!” Victor exclaimed.

Talia tugged at Lucas’ arms, trying to get him to release her father.

“We can’t do that! We have to listen to what he has to say. Please, Lucas. He’s my father!”

“Where have you been?” Lucas demanded.

“I can’t talk with your arm pressed against my throat.”

Lucas released Victor and Talia let out the breath she’d been holding in.

He looked different, just as Caroline had said. “The man who was killed was a police officer, Victor. We need to know you didn’t do that.”

“I’ve been in Canada. I just came back to see Caroline. God what a mess.”

Talia could hear the agony in his voice. She looked at Lucas, who still stood very close to Victor as though on guard.

“You’ve been watching her, haven’t you? Maybe you saw that she was seeing someone else, is that it? Got jealous, possessive, decided to do something about it?” Lucas asked.

“Actually she was seeing that associate of hers and she’s seeing her neighbor,” Victor said wearily. “But I didn’t decide to kill one of them. I just wanted to make sure she was all right.”

“Well, she’s doing fine, at least she was. She’s kept that gallery going and made some pretty amazing improvements. And she’s created a personal life, to boot,” Lucas told him.

Talia felt tears sting her eyes. “I’m afraid for you, Victor. What are you going to do?”

“He’s going to turn himself in,” Lucas said forcefully. “It’s the only way.”

Talia knew Lucas was right, but her heart was breaking at the thought of it.

What happened next was so sudden, she had no time to prepare. Victor pushed at Lucas, who lost his footing and fell backward. As he was trying to catch himself, Victor bolted through the bedroom door.

Running after him, Talia reached the living room only to find it empty. Then she felt the cold air and realized the kitchen door was standing wide open.

Talia went to the phone and dialed Caroline’s number. Again, the answering machine picked up. She left a terse message: Victor was just here. He may be coming to see you.

* * * *

Neil listened to the message, then erased it. Returning to Caroline’s bedroom, he saw that she was still tossing and turning, asleep but not really resting. He could only guess at the tormented dreams she must be experiencing as a result of today’s events.

He tiptoed closer and pulled the comforter up over her. Then he went downstairs and made himself a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Nineteen

Caroline awoke to the aroma of coffee brewing and bacon frying. Hunger grabbed at her like a claw in her belly and the baby gave her a few resounding kicks as if to say, yeah, I’m starving too, so get with it, Mom!

She lay there trying to chase away the shadows of the night. Someone was downstairs moving around, she could hear them. Neil. It had to be. She remembered him bringing her home and tucking her into bed. She looked under the covers. She was in an oversized sleep shirt.I don’t remember undressing myself, so he must have done it.

Memories of yesterday’s events slowly seeped into her sleep-fogged brain and she felt the tears well up in her eyes. Was it all true? Was Jeremy dead, murdered in a horrible way? A cop. Not the sweet tempered, gentle art student, but a man who had come into her life and her bed sheathed in deceit.

And what part had Victor played in this? She now regretted telling Talia about seeing him. She’d tell Lucas, who would do God-knows-what. Plus the police would be around, Caroline was sure of that.

Caroline got up and went to the bathroom, where she peed, brushed her teeth, rinsed off her face and donned the red silk robe hanging on the back of the door.

In the kitchen, she found Neil hovering over the stove, scrambling eggs. The smell of bread toasting made her mouth water.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

He obviously hadn’t slept much and he was still wearing the same clothing he’d had on yesterday.

“You stayed all night,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Coffee is ready. It’s decaf, though.”

Caroline went to the coffee pot on the counter and poured a mug full. “I have regular also, and there’s an extra pot in the cabinet under the sink. It’s a four-cup one, but enough for you to brew yourself some.”

She went to the freezer and got out the can of Folgers, then to the cabinet and pulled out the pot. “You look like you could use a cup of the real thing. I’m off of it until the kick-master here is born.”

Neil insisted she sit down and let him wait on her. She gladly let him do just that. As she watched him move around the kitchen, she began to appreciate the value of having someone in her life who could be more than just a romp in the hay.

When the food was on the table, Caroline dug in with gusto, savoring every bite. “I’m ravenous. This is so good. Thank you so much!”

“Well, you are eating for two, as they say,” he replied with a smile. Then his expression sobered. “Are you really all right? I was afraid for you and the baby yesterday, Caroline. Sometimes a sudden shock can bring on problems in a pregnancy.”

She put down her fork and looked across the table at him. “I’m healthy as a horse. The baby is fine. In fact, he’s doing his morning stretches right now. Would you like to feel?”

Uncertainty flashed in his eyes, then he got up and came to her.

When he gently, almost reluctantly, laid his hand on her belly, she said, “I won’t break, Neil. You can really touch me.”

She knew the kiss was coming, wanted it to happen, still she was not prepared for the innocent sweetness of it. His hand remained on her abdomen; his other hand cupped her face as their lips met.

There was no groping, just a slow kiss full of feeling, yet devoid of urgency. She loved it.

He drew back then, and smiled down at her. “I felt him. He gave my hand a good shove. Protecting his mother already, I suppose.”

The knock on Caroline’s back door jarred them both and she felt her heart skitter inside her chest.

Neil finally answered it, admitting Detectives Muncie and Reed.

Caroline had dreaded this moment, yet knew it was inevitable.

Muncie eyed his surroundings, then rested his flat gaze on Caroline. She sipped her decaf coffee and waited.

Neil took up a position beside her chair.

Caroline noticed that Detective Reed was looking at the array of food with longing. She didn’t offer either one of them a thing, not even a cup of coffee.

“I’ll come to the point, Miss Thomas,” Muncie began, “I know you’ve been in touch with Victor Kane. Don’t even try to deny it. Where is he?”

Caroline felt Neil stir beside her as though ready to defend her. “I don’t know,” she replied simply, taking another sip of the coffee.

“That’s bull. When was the last time you saw him?” Muncie pressed, his lips set in a grim line. “And please remember we’re investigating the murder of a police officer.”

Reed began to move around the room, sauntering idly it would seem. But Caroline knew better. She remembered how these two worked from before. She ignored Reed and directed her attention to Muncie. “I told you...”

“A lie! Right off the bat. You told us a lie,” Muncie snapped. He moved toward her.

Neil stepped forward. “She’s answered your question. Either move it along or leave.”

“This your lawyer, Miss Thomas?” Reed asked from somewhere behind them.

Caroline didn’t turn around and she was gratified to see that Neil didn’t either.

“Does she need one?” Neil asked.

“That depends on her,” Muncie told him.

Caroline suddenly felt the baby begin to kick wildly and grabbed at her stomach. This entire thing was causing too much stress for her and her son. It had to end!

When she spoke her voice was clear and even. “Victor was here on Thursday night. I’d had dinner with Neil at his condo across the courtyard and when I returned home, he was waiting for me.”

She could hear Neil’s sharp intake of breath. She continued, “He didn’t stay long. He said he wanted to make sure that the baby and I were all right.”

“So he wasn’t surprised you were pregnant?” Reed asked, coming back into her line of vision.

“He didn’t act like it.”

“Which means he could have been watching you for some time. Waiting for a chance to strike again,” Muncie commented.

Caroline felt defeated, tired of it all. She needed peace. “I don’t know. I just want this to end.”

Neil put a supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. She felt the tears well up again.

“Did he say where he’d been, where he was living?”

Caroline shook her head.

“What did you talk about?”

Caroline felt her cheeks turn hot and prayed she wasn’t blushing, but knew she probably was. “He didn’t stay that long.”

“Evidently long enough,” Reed muttered.

Muncie snorted his disapproval. “Do you know where Victor Kane is, Miss Thomas?” he asked forcefully, slamming his hand on the tabletop.

Caroline jumped and Neil took another step toward the stocky detective. “That’s it. You come back again, you come with a warrant or you’ll stand outside till hell freezes over!”

Reed was now at the back door, opening it. “Call us, Miss Thomas, if you hear from him. Jail is no place to have a baby. And that’s where you’ll be if you harbor a fugitive.”

Muncie followed his partner out of the condo without saying another word.

Caroline was shaking. She just couldn’t seem to stop. Neil knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms. He stroked her head for a bit, then got up and began to clear the table.

“Go lie back down. I’ll be up in a little while,” he said softly.

She looked at him for a moment, then got up and left the kitchen. She knew they would make love. She knew it would be slow and tender and satisfying. It was just what she needed.

* * * *

Talia didn’t want to get out of bed. She wanted to lay and listen to Lucas’ steady breathing.

Daylight had come some time ago, but she’d been reluctant to start her day. Glancing at the bedside clock she saw that it was after nine-thirty. It’s Sunday, a day of rest. So rest, she urged herself.

Victor’s visit during the night had shaken her. It had infuriated Lucas. He’d wanted to call the police even after Victor had run out the door, but she’d begged him not to and he’d finally acquiesced to her wishes.

Lucas stirred beside her and she began to stroke his chest, pulling at the thick, dark chest hair.

“Ouch,” he said, opening one eye and grinning at her.

“Baby,” she chastised, tugging harder.

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself. Time to rise...” She ran her hand beneath the sheet and found his cock, hard and ready. “...and shine, Mister.”

His hand found a breast and pinched at the nipple, “You looking for trouble, Miss Coe?”

Talia repressed a giggle. “I’m looking for something...guess I found it,” she replied, stroking his penis.

The sound of the front doorbell brought a groan from Lucas. “What the hell?” he groused, climbing out of bed. Going to the closet, he pulled on a pair of sweat pants.

“Ignore it,” Talia begged, her desire rising with every passing moment. This mating season thing had its advantages and disadvantages. This morning, she was experiencing one of the disadvantages: wanting sex desperately and having to put her desires on hold.

“We can pretend not to be home,” she added hopefully, but Lucas was already halfway down the hallway.

Jumping up, Talia grabbed a thick, terry robe and followed him.

When she entered the living room, she found Detectives Muncie and Reed stepping inside and Lucas looking less than thrilled as he closed the front door after them.

“It’s Sunday,” Lucas said curtly.

“And I see you two aren’t in church,” Muncie retorted. He let his glance linger on both of them in turn.

Talia suppressed the desire to draw the robe up around her neck. Lucas came across the room and stood beside her.

Reed began to move around, looking at this and that, while Muncie talked.

“When was the last time you saw your father?”

Talia stared at him, but didn’t answer. They were up to their old tricks. She remembered how they behaved last May and felt resentment churn up inside of her.

“How about you, Mr. Knight? Seen Victor Kane in the last few days?” Muncie persisted.

“No.”

“Sure of that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, that brings us back to you, Miss Coe. Oh, you two haven’t tied the knot yet, have you? Maybe I’m committing a breach of etiquette here. Should I be calling you Mrs. Knight?” Muncie asked, his voice rife with sarcasm.

“My father did not kill Jeremy Reese,” Talia said stubbornly.

“His name was Doug Richards. He was a cop. So you can pretty well guess we’re not going to listen to lies about the prime suspect, can’t you?” Muncie asked. He stood very close to Talia and Lucas.

As he continued, his voice took on a malevolent quality. “Now, we’re tired and we’re under a lot of pressure to bring this cop killer in. The state police sent Richards here to get close to all of you, in hopes of finding Victor Kane. That didn’t happen. What did happen is that he was murdered much in the same way that Mr. Lynch was last spring. Now, since Victor Kane was the prime suspect then, it stands to reason he’s the prime suspect now. Especially since his girlfriend, Caroline Thomas, was fooling around withDougRichards while she’s carrying Kane’s child. That would get me a little upset, wouldn’t it you, Mr. Knight?”

Muncie stared coldly at Lucas and Talia could see the little speech had had an effect on him.

“You asked me and I answered you. I haven’t seen my father,” Talia told him.

Reed stepped forward. “Could I talk to you a minute in the kitchen, Mr. Knight?”

Lucas glanced at Talia, who begged him with her eyes not to leave. She knew what they were doing: divide and conquer.

“Please,” Reed emphasized, heading that way. Lucas followed.

She didn’t like it. Lucas was being way too quiet. He wasn’t jumping to her defense or reinforcing what she’d said.In other words, he’s not lying for you and Victor, a little voice inside said.

Muncie continued, “Maybe you should get dressed so we can continue this down at the station.”

Panic ripped through Talia. “I’ve told you all I know.”

* * * *

Lucas had decided when he opened the door and found the two detectives on his front porch that he wouldn’t reveal Victor’s nocturnal visit, but at the same time he wouldn’t defend him, either.

“Look, Mr. Knight, you’re a businessman in this community and we all know that reputation is important. People here are even more fearful since another murder has taken place, especially now that Doug’s identity is known.”

“Did you know he was working undercover here?” Lucas suddenly asked.

Reed seemed thrown by the question and Lucas smiled inwardly.

“Actually, no, we didn’t. The state police aren’t duty-bound to tell us about all of their covert operations,” Reed replied stiffly.

“Covert?” Lucas repeated with a scoff.

Reed cleared his throat and continued, “Your...girlfriend has a reason to protect Kane. After all, he’s her father. But you don’t. And I can’t think it would be to your advantage to do so. Besides, as I recall, there didn’t seem to be any love lost between the two of you last spring.”

Deep down, Lucas knew that what the detective was saying was true, but he was not about to betray Talia that way. “We’ve told you all we know.”

Reed sighed the long-suffering sigh of a parent trying unsuccessfully to reason with an wayward child. “If you see him, please contact us, Mr. Knight. We don’t want any more deaths here, and I’m sure you don’t either,” he said, handing Lucas a business card.

Cops with business cards, Lucas thought as Reed left the room.

* * * *

Talia was sitting on the couch, arms folded, a stubborn look on her face when Lucas came back into the living room. Muncie and Reed were gone.

“Here, I brewed some coffee, I’m sure we can both use it,” he said handing her one of the steaming mugs.

She sipped at it absently, her gaze still on the door.

“What did Muncie have to say?” Lucas asked.

“He tried bullying me and when that didn’t work he tried insulting me, then he turned nice and tried to appeal to my sensibilities.”

“Same old, same old, in other words. Reed tried the same tactic with me in the kitchen.”

She looked at him. “Do you think my father killed that police officer?”

Frankly, Lucas wouldn’t put anything past Victor, but he wasn’t about to tell Talia that.

The next moment she was on her feet, drawing the robe around her tightly. “Never mind, Lucas, I can see the answer in your eyes,” she said, hurrying from the room.

* * * *

Thanksgiving was only a week away, and all over town holiday decorations were going up in shop windows along the street and in the town square. Usually Caroline loved the holidays, but not this year. In fact she’d been seriously considering canceling the art show in view of what had happened to Jeremy (she still couldn’t call him Doug; he would always be Jeremy to her). All morning she’d vacillated back and forth between going full steam ahead and forgetting the entire thing.

Now, it was mid afternoon. Neil had gone home, promising to return for an early dinner that he would prepare. “I want to pamper you today, but I need to do some things and you need to take a nap. You’re still shaken and you look exhausted,” he’d told her right after lunch.

Now that she was alone the true impact of what had happened began to register and she found that she couldn’t quit shaking. Jeremy dead. Murdered. Jeremy not what or who he pretended to be. She’d shared a bed with him, let him into her life and all the time his sole purpose for being there had been to spy on her to watch and wait for Victor to make an appearance so he could arrest him. But she knew that wasn’t all of it. It also had to do with the rumors that surrounded the murder of Craig Lynch, and of the strange, bizarre happenings associated with it. She’d heard one reporter refer to the entire episode as supernatural.

Caroline felt cold inside. She couldn’t even cry anymore.

* * * *

Lucas entered the bedroom to find Talia standing at the French doors looking out. He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. To his relief, she didn’t resist.

“I shouldn’t blame you for feeling that way about Victor. I’ve had doubts myself,” she said softly.

He could tell she’d been crying and her voice was heavy with sorrow. “I love you, if that counts for anything,” he whispered, pulling her hair away from one ear and kissing the delicate shell.

“It counts for everything.” She leaned against him, laying the back of her head on his chest. “Do you think he’s still around here? He said he’d been in Canada. Maybe he’s gone back.”

She sounded hopeful and he understood why. If Victor was out of the area, he was out of danger. He wanted to reassure her, knew she needed that, but this was no time to give her false hope. “I doubt it.”

“I should call Caroline again. I’m worried about her, too.”

But when she finally did, she ended up leaving another message.

* * * *

The mandated nap had done Caroline a world of good. She awoke from a dreamless sleep around five o’clock and took a shower. The baby had rested, too, as though he knew mommy needed a few hours of no kicking and no amniotic aerobics.

She’d just stepped out from under the hot, tingling spray when she heard the doorbell ring. Throwing on her ‘old scruffy’ robe, the worn cotton one she kept in the back of the closet, she hurried downstairs.

Neil stood on the doorstep, a large shopping bag dangling from each hand. “Dinner has arrived,” he said, smiling widely.

“About time!” she teased, stepping back to let him in. Unconsciously, she scanned the area outside, before closing the door. Since Victor’s unannounced visit the other night, she’d been more aware of her surroundings. It wasn’t out of fear, just caution. At least that’s what she told herself.

Neil was already in the kitchen, putting things into the refrigerator. She caught sight of two large steaks, fresh spinach and other assorted vegetables. On the counter was pasta and a container of fresh, grated parmesan. “Unless you’re starved right now, I thought we’d talk a while. Dinner at seven sound okay?” He asked turning to look at her.

“Perfect. As you can see, I’m not exactly dressed for dinner, anyway.”

His gaze moved up and down her body. “You look better. Rested. Come here.”

His command surprised her. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Caroline felt her heart rate increase, felt the tingle of excitement surface. “Neil...maybe we shouldn’t...”

He didn’t let her finish. He came to her, unlooped the robe tie and opened the garment. Then he slipped his arms around her and drew her to him.

The feel of his body, fully clothed against her naked one, sent sparks of desire through Caroline. She missed the intimacy she and Jeremy had shared, the sexual release. She needed that and now Neil was offering it.

He kissed her deeply, and she could feel the passion bubbling just below the surface. She returned the kiss, using her tongue to probe to explore, while he did the same.

Caroline had never been shy about her body, not before the pregnancy and not now. Jeremy had shown her that her rounded belly was a thing of beauty.

She’d always had a good figure, never an ounce of fat on her petite frame. Any weight gain now was all baby, she’d seen to that.

One of the gallery’s patrons had commented recently that she must be having a girl, since she was ‘all out front’. When Caroline had informed the woman she was carrying a boy, she’d commented, “My, you must have a lot of will-power, with my two I gained it all over.”And never lost it, Caroline had wanted to quip, viewing the matron’s rotund figure, but had held her tongue.

Even at nearly seven months along, Caroline was no larger than many women she’d seen in her obstetrician’s office who were just in the fifth month. Yet the baby was healthy.

Neil’s hands roamed freely over her back and buttocks. His erection pressed urgently against her abdomen, warm and demanding. When she felt the moisture seeping through his jeans, she reached down and lowered his zipper. His shorts were soaked. She longed to taste his jism, her mouth actually watering in anticipation.

Neil held her fast with one strong arm and sucked her nipples, first one, then the other, with long, dragging strokes, using his tongue and lips in wonderful coordination to draw them out, make them rigid. The mustache tickled a little, but she found the sensation titillating.

She felt the tug in her cunt as her own juices flowed down the insides of her legs. Then his other hand went there, rubbing her inner thighs as though gathering up her essence. When his fingers touched her outer layers, she moaned loudly, urging him on, begging him not to stop.

She pumped at his shaft, caressed his balls, and rode his fingers as they explored her inner reaches. The orgasm was hovering just below the surface, ready to take possession of her, when he suddenly drew back.

“Not here,” he said.

He took her hand and led her through the living room and up the stairs.

Neil made love to her slowly, with passion and something bordering on reverence. Caroline lay there on the soft down quilt as his mouth made its way from her neck to her breasts and finally down to her swollen belly. As he kissed it lightly, with feathery touches of his lips, she was reminded of Jeremy for a moment. Then his tongue was manipulating her clit, and all thought left her mind as she gave herself over to the erotic sensations of the moment.

When she wriggled free of him and urged him to lie back so she could return the favor, he smiled and obliged.

He tasted so good! She licked the head of his shaft, soaked now with hot, thick pre-cum. Then she explored its length with her tongue relishing the feel of the distended veins. When she finally took him into her mouth and sucked with force, he secured her head there with is hands and pushed himself deeply into her throat.

Caroline’s breasts rubbed against his thighs and she could feel the roughness of his leg hairs against the sensitive skin.

“Now,” he said huskily. “I can’t hold out...”

She straddled him, his penis resting against her belly. Then he lifted her up and brought her down gently, entering her slowly.

Shivers ran the length of her spine as she felt his bulk slide up the moist swollen walls of her core.

The orgasm that had been lurking there suddenly broke free, jarring her entire body with spasms, as she felt the hot jets of his seed explode inside of her.

* * * *

Dinner was late, but by nine they were finished eating the main course, which Neil proudly called ‘one of my better efforts’. It had consisted of steaks cooked on Caroline’s stove-top grill, a spinach salad with bacon vinaigrette dressing, mixed steamed vegetables and for dessert, cheesecake.

Afterward they had coffee in the living room and talked about the gallery, her plans for further expansion and finally, his novel.

“How is it coming?” Caroline asked. “You don’t talk about it much.”

He shrugged. “Not much to say.”

“Do you have a deadline?”

“A self-imposed one only.”

“Will you leave here, then?” She felt a pang as she anticipated his reply.

He smiled. They were side by side on the couch, sitting so they could face one another. Her hand rested lightly on his knee.

He took that hand and kissed it. “Would it matter if I did?”

She nodded.

“Good,” he said. Then he stood up. “It’s after ten. I’m going home.”

“You could stay?” She rose too, hoping he didn’t see the disappointment in her eyes.

“I’d do that in a minute, but tomorrow is a work day and I think you need your rest.”

She knew he was right, but it had been a wonderful day and she hated to see it end.

Whereas her couplings with Jeremy had always been physically satisfying, there’d been no emotional bond.

She’d been in love with Victor and still was. His visit the other night had reawakened the desire to be with him, but he was gone and she didn’t know if he’d ever return to her.

With Neil, she sensed they could become not just lovers, but friends as well.