By the third day, Luis’d had it.
There was no drama, no explosion. He just got tired of waiting for things to change, so he went on the offensive. It felt good to finally follow his instincts, to stop throttling back, and, he had to be honest, it felt good to be challenged.
He started out small, stalking Claudia in subtle ways over the next few days. When they stood talking, he got a bit too close, invading her space. At the dinner table, when she passed the salt to him, he reached a little too far for it, closing his hand over hers. He slid his fingers down the length of her hand until he could grasp the shaker. Her bland expression didn’t change, but her pupils dilated, and sudden arousal thrummed low, rhythmic notes in her scent.
And there it was again, the connection.
He was clever enough not to show his triumph.
She liked to go running early. On the seventh morning, she emerged from the trailer, dressed in running clothes with her pale hair pulled back.
He was waiting for her in his Wyr form. She jerked to a halt when she saw him sitting in the yard, and this time she looked shaken. He didn’t wag his tail. He just waited for her to make up her mind.
She came slowly down the steps. “Oh, Precious,” she said. For some reason she sounded sad. For the first time in days she touched him voluntarily, laying a gentle hand on his head. Everything inside of him concentrated on the sensation of the warm, light weight of her palm resting on him. Deeper and more profound than pleasure, he felt comfort and recognition. She rubbed one of his ears before her hand fell away.
When he stood, his shoulders came up to her waist. She turned and started to run. He flowed along the ground beside her, his powerful body moving effortlessly, and for a while they shared perfect, seamless movement. The colors of the morning were so pure and new, they were downright righteous, and the air was biting cold. He could have run forever with her like that, but of course it had to end as the obligations of the day took over.
Later, when he let himself into Jackson’s house, around five, Luis found a note. Jackson had been called away on a vet emergency. They should eat dinner without him.
Luis thought about that. It was Claudia’s turn to get takeout. He went out the back, knocked on the trailer door and a moment later she opened it. The westering sun caught her full in the face, shining on her sleek, shoulder-length pale hair and turning her green eyes emerald. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and it was so goddamn erotic to see how that shirt molded to her tight, lean torso. His gaze fell down her length.
She was barefoot.
Suddenly he was rock hard with agonized hunger.
He looked up again and smiled. “Pick up meat loaf dinners for me and Jackson?”
“Sure,” she said. She glanced past him at the empty space where Jackson parked his truck. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. Where’s Dan?”
“He’ll be back,” Luis said.
She nodded. “Give me half an hour.”
“You bet.”
He went back to the house to take a quick shower, putting on jeans and a T-shirt too. Then he let himself into the trailer to wait for her. He stopped dead just inside the door.
After a week, her possessions had gradually taken over the trailer until evidence of her stay was everywhere. Not that she was untidy; she was very neat. But there were books, movies she borrowed from Jackson’s collection, her suitcase, the laptop, phone and charger, the Tarot deck.
Until now. Everything was packed, and she had cleaned. The laptop was stored in its case, and an open canvas bag held her paperbacks and phone, and the Tarot deck sat neatly on top.
Man, she was slamming that wall into place again with a vengeance.
Emotion roared through him, a gigantic, silent outcry that gnawed at his bones like acid. Oh, no you don’t, he said to the emptiness.
No, you don’t.
Claudia stepped into the trailer, carrying three Styrofoam containers and a paper bag full of the requisite dinner rolls, and it was her turn to stop dead just inside the door.
Violence lounged on the end of the sofa, and it looked a lot like Luis. He was playing with the Tarot deck, his big, brown hands dexterous as he handled the cards.
She took in his set expression and blazing eyes. Yeah, she wasn’t going to go anywhere near that. She stepped away, into the miniscule kitchen area. “Where’s Dan?”
“Vet emergency.”
She set the dinners on the counter, listening to him shuffle the deck. Snap. Snap. Snap. She looked at the table. He was snapping each card as he laid them down in what looked like a basic spread, but he clearly wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing.
She said, “You knew Dan was out on the emergency before, didn’t you?”
His sensual mouth drew tight. “Yep.”