Dana Eberharter - Shadow of the Wolf

He laughed. “I’m not, I promise.”

“I’m sure all axe murderers say that right before they break out the axe.”

He snorted, thoroughly amused. She was snuggling deeper into the blanket, the heat warming her through, her teeth chattering less and less. “Getting a tow truck out here during this storm would be a true feat of magic.”

She sighed and propped her chin on her hand, looking forlorn. He wanted to snatch her up and cuddle her close, but there was no way she was ready for that yet. “True.”

“Perhaps I could take a look at your car after the storm passes.”

“Perhaps you could.” She jumped when Alasdair landed in her lap. “Oh!” She reached out and tentatively petted Alasdair, a delighted smile on her face. Alasdair, the shameless thing, purred in obvious delight before settling down. “Your familiar?”

He nodded, hoping his pet would put her at ease in a way Christopher seemed incapable of doing. She seemed to like the cat, and Alasdair certainly seemed to like her back.

She opened her mouth, her brow furrowed, before shaking her head and clamping her lips closed.

“Go ahead and ask. I promise I won’t bite yet.”

“Yet?”

He merely smiled. She’d find out sooner rather than later if he had any say in the matter.

“How did you… I mean, Grammy said that shapeshifters were a myth.”

He watched her, the play of emotions over her heart-shaped face. “They are.”

“Then, how?”

“How do I become the wolf?” She nodded. “Simple. I’m—”

“Christopher Beckett.” Her eyes widened in shock.

He grinned, unable to hold back the feral satisfaction and deep longing to finalize the cementing of their bond. She knows my name. It really is her. “Yes.”

She shook her head. “How did I know that?”

He needed a diversion. It was too soon to give that part of the game away. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” The wistful hunger on her face drove him to his feet.

“Enjoy the fire. I’ll return momentarily.” He didn’t want his new mate catching cold before he’d had a chance to claim her. “Don’t move; I don’t want you getting sick.”

Besides, he planned on adding a little something that would ensure she’d still be there come morning.

Lana moved her legs, thinking perhaps it would be better to grab her wet clothes and make for the hills, but the warm weight of the purring cat held her in place. Deep gold-green eyes slit open, staring up at her with lazy arrogance, daring her to move.

“Like master like familiar, huh?”

Speaking of the “master”, how in the hell had she known the man’s name?

Something was going on here, something that had her magic senses tingling. The thing was, instead of blaring the warning she expected, they were, well, tingling . She couldn’t get the image of him standing there, naked, half hard cock dangling between his thighs, his hand held out, his deep, purring voice demanding that she come to him. And oh boy had she wanted to come to him.

Was that it? Had the wizard wrapped some sort of lust spell around her? She shook her head. If he’d wrapped any sort of will-sapping spell around her he wouldn’t be a wizard. He’d be a warlock. And she’d gotten no sense from him that he was one of those spellcasters. They didn’t exactly have a shiny happy feel to them.

No, Christopher Beckett was definitely a wizard.

And what was up with the wonder dog routine, anyway? She needed to call her Grammy, needed to call her now.

She managed to get the irate cat off her lap with only a few minor scratches to add to the ones she’d picked up in the woods. Wrapping the blanket closely around her, she tiptoed farther into the room, looking for a phone.

She was surprised by the look of his home; she’d expected something a little more traditional in décor. Instead, his kitchen had been done in warm light cherry wood with slate floors, surprisingly warm under her bare feet. The countertops and backsplash were warm brown granite that picked up the colors of the slate tile. The stainless steel appliances and fixtures added a modern touch. The smaller appliances had all been cobalt blue; the walls were warm gold, almost the exact shade of Christopher’s eyes.

And the great room? He’d brought that gold color in on the contemporary armchairs that flanked his pale cream sofa. The cobalt blue she’d seen in the kitchen was on the walls, the color framing an incredible stainless steel and glass tile fireplace. The floors were a darker shade of cherry than the kitchen cabinets, the wooden coffee table and end tables lighter. She liked it. It was vibrant and warm, like the man himself.

Gah. She had to get out of here before she actually started liking him .

She found the phone one of the end tables, not far from where they’d been sitting on the floor. She dialed the number, knowing Grammy would somehow be expecting her call. Grammy could be a little weird that way. She always seemed to know when one of her grandchildren needed her.

She wasn’t wrong. “Hello, Alannah.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Grammy. Do you know anything about a wizard family named Beckett?” Grammy’s gasp was answer enough. The smile fled from Lana’s face. “Am I in danger?”

“No! Don’t … don’t leave. You’re safe where you are.”

Lana pulled the phone away from her ear and studied it. That was odd. “Grams. He’s a wizard. ”

“Sweetheart, trust me. No one will protect you better than … what did you say his name was?”

“Christopher.”

“Christopher Beckett.”

“Yes. Gram, somehow I knew his name. How could I know his name?”

“I knew this day would come, just not exactly when. You see, you answered the call.”

“What call?”

“He’s coming back. Hang up the phone and settle down. Call me in the morning.”

And Grammy hung up.

Lana hung up the phone and settled back in front of the fireplace, her mind reeling.

Why was Christopher Beckett so much more trustworthy than any other wizard?

She watched him stroll into the room, two mugs cradled in his hands, and damn near whimpered. She’d never thought a man’s walk could be an act of seduction before.

Christopher’s seemed designed to remind her of what lay under those jeans.

Like she needed reminding. The sight was forever burned into her retinas. She had the feeling her last words on this earth would be something along the lines of “Ooh, naked.”

“Here you are.” He handed her a mug before settling down right next to her.

Sneaky dog. “Thank you.” She took a sip and nearly orgasmed on the spot. “Holy mama.”

His smile was smug. “Good?”

“What did you put in here, liquid sex?”

He sputtered, hot chocolate spraying all over his hands.

She pounded on his back, trying to ease him through the coughing fit. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. It was just the image of how I would accomplish that.” He shook his head, picking up his discarded towel and beginning the process of cleaning up the spilled chocolate. “You have to be one of the most unusual females I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who howls at the full moon, buster.” She put the mug down and hugged the blanket closer around her body. “Speaking of which, you were going to explain that to me?”

He finished wiping his hands off on the towel. “Yes, I was.”

She waved her hand at him. “So? Spill.” Give me a reason to trust you other than Grammy.

“I think we’ve had enough spills tonight.”

“Har har. Funny man.”