WHERE DARKNESS LIVES

His laughter was filled with pure joy as he rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the mattress with his much larger body.

“How could you possibly think I wouldn’t want to know how you feel?” he growled, not certain if he wanted to shake her or kiss her senseless.

The damned female could make him feel as uncertain and awkward as a pup.

Her eyes widened as she felt the blunt tip of his erection settle at the moist entrance between her legs.

“You came here for a job, not to become mated.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the sensuous curve of her lips.

Just a few days ago the word mate would have made him break out in hives.

Now he couldn’t imagine his life without this woman.

“It doesn’t matter why I came, only that I never intend to leave.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her emerald eyes glowing with an emotion that was echoed in his racing heart.

“Never?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I belong to you now.”

“Mine?”

A smile curved her lips, then before he could guess her intentions, she’d captured his thumb between her teeth, gently sucking on it.

He growled in pleasure, the sensation of her tongue rubbing his thumb making his cock ache for the same delicious attention.

“Just as you are mine,” he swore, lowering his head to press restless kisses over her face.

White-hot need blazed through him, but somewhere in the back of his mind he felt a brief moment of disquiet.

It wasn’t just his fear for her safety, although that was a constant, biting concern. Until he’d captured and killed the bastard trying to harm Sophia he would always be on edge.

No, this was more personal.

But equally worrisome, he realized with a pang of surprise.

It wasn’t that he regretted his actions. He’d done what he was commanded. And more importantly, his actions had always been in an effort to protect this woman.

But something warned him that Sophia might not be pleased when she discovered that he hadn’t yet been totally honest with her.

Briefly he considered the notion of confessing all. It was, no doubt, the right thing to do. But even as the thought drifted through his mind, Luc was abruptly distracted when her legs wrapped around his hips, her nails biting into his ass in a silent plea for release.

There would be time later, he assured himself, squashing the tiny voice of warning.

Much, much later.





CHAPTER 7





It was late morning when Sophia and Luc crept into Kirsten’s home, both shifting into wolf form to make a swift sweep of her lavish lair.

Once it was obvious there was nothing suspicious beyond an obscenely massive collection of Manolo Blahnik shoes that Sophia fully intended to get her greedy hands on, Luc gave her rump a playful nip and they headed back to her house.

Following him up the stairs to her ... their ... bedroom, she had an opportunity to admire her wolf.

And he was well worth admiring.

A large beast with massive fangs and dark fur, he was the size of a pony with a broad chest and thickly muscled legs. His eyes glowed with the midnight fire of his wolf, but there was an unmistakable intelligence that was as dangerous as all the strength of his heavy body.

Oh yes, he was fine, fine, fine.

An opinion that was only emphasized as a shimmering light haloed his body as he shifted back to his human form.

He shuddered as his body hovered between wolf and man, the ancient magic pulsing through the air. Then the transformation was over and with a remarkable ability to recover, Luc was rising to his feet, his naked body all chiseled perfection wrapped in smooth bronze silk.

Yummmmmm.

Sophia concentrated on her own shift, relishing the painful stretch of muscle and popping of bone. There was a primitive satisfaction in calling on her powers.

Not quite as swift as Luc in regaining her balance, Sophia slowly rose to her feet and pulled on the short, silk robe tossed on the bed. Across the room, Luc was already dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and polo shirt that might have made him look civilized if not for the shadow of whiskers already darkening his jaw and the feral glint in his eyes.

“Anything?” he asked, referring to their recent jaunt through the vampire’s lair.

“No.”

He moved to the full-length mirror attached to the back of the door, smoothing back his hair.

“Which would seem to leave the cur as the last of our suspects.”

“Morton?” She snorted. “I can’t imagine him as a homicidal maniac.”

He turned to discover her eyeing his ass. A smug smile curved his lips.

“Looks are far too often deceiving.”

Sophia grimaced, picturing the dull fire hydrant of a cur. “They would have to be excessively deceiving.”

He shrugged. “I’ll soon find out.”

“Assuming he is guilty, I don’t know how walking around a golf course whacking at a white ball is going to convince the cur to confess.”

Luc crossed to stand directly in front of her. “He doesn’t need to confess.”

“No?”