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  “You look beautiful, Ainsley.”

  “Thank you, Clive.”

  She blushed a little, just like all girls did when he told them they looked beautiful. He knew it was because he was handsome, not because he was witty or romantic.

  But it was still nice.

  He smiled back but didn’t say anything, leaving her a little off balance. Girls seemed to like that.

  “Clive, I don’t have much in the house…”

  That’s fine. We can just fuck. But I wish I’d eaten before I came over.

  “…but I do have a couple of rib eyes from the Co-op that I can cook, and a salad. Does that sound okay?”

  “That sounds great. Let me cook the steaks, you make the salad.”

  She looked surprised.

  “Oh no, Clive, you worked all day. Let me cook for you.”

  “I insist. Steak is kind of a specialty of mine.”

  She shrugged and they walked into the kitchen together. The bottom half of her dress was a little too fluffy for him to be able to see her ass.

  That was a shame.

  But he could smell that honeysuckle scent coming off her in waves.

  “Let’s see those steaks,” he said.

  He liked the way she scurried to the fridge to get them for him. When she bent down to take them off a low shelf his wolf leapt at the idea of mounting her.

  He slowed down his breathing on purpose and tried to keep his cool. With what he had planned for them tonight, he was going to need his strength. And besides, when he was alpha it would be important to have self-control.

  Ainsley turned, wearing an eager to please smile, and presented the steaks.

  He couldn’t help smiling back and praising her.

  “These look great, good job. Do you have a pan that can go in the oven?”

  She got a panicked look on her face. She spun and opened the oven to find a perfect pan.

  “Thank goodness. I was afraid for a second that someone might have taken it today.”

  “You let them take your kitchen stuff too?”

  “I told them they could have everything except what was in my bedroom.”

  Clive let that thought hang in the air for a minute.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” Ainsley asked nervously.

  “Sure.” He smiled at her again.

  Instead of making her more nervous by watching her, Clive put the pan back in the oven and pre-heated it. He unwrapped the steaks and sniffed at them.

  Delicious.

  These were definitely expensive – he never got meat at the Co-op. He snuck a peek at the deli label. $34.47. Jesus. It would be fun to get used to nice things.

  She seemed pleased to find a couple of mason jars in the high cupboard. She poured out wine and held out a jar to him.

  Clive smiled at her and took a sip. In his opinion drinking wine was a little fruity, and he’d rather have a cold beer. But whatever floated her boat. He knocked back the whole glass.

  “Nice, Ainsley. Can I have some more? Throw a little ice in this one, will you?”

  Her eyes widened but she took his glass and did as he asked. She probably hadn’t been with a guy who could hold his liquor before.

  Her boobs jiggled when she cracked the ice tray. His wolf ached to mount her. Again he held it at bay.

  Instead he grabbed the pan out of the oven with a towel. He threw it on the stovetop and turned the gas up to high, then carefully laid both steaks on it.

  They sizzled and steamed like crazy. He wished he could eat the smoke that rose from them it smelled so good. He did a slow count out loud to thirty then flipped them over. Another cloud of steam and smoke billowed out from the pan.

  Then the smoke alarm went off. The high-pitched sound was maddening. A drawback to having overly sensitive ears.

  “Shut it off!” he hollered to Ainsley.

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Let me go take care of that,” she said as she scrambled up the stairs to reach it.

  Chapter 11

  Ainsley dragged the chair from her room into the hallway to help her reach the smoke detector.

  She tried waving her hand in front of it, but there was so much smoke it kept going off anyway. Finally, she settled for removing the battery.

  When it was done, she stood on the chair for an extra minute. Things were not going well. The only positive was that Clive seemed to like the way she looked. She hoped that would be enough.

  Ainsley dragged the chair back to her room, then walked over to the mirror on the dresser and looked herself in the eye.

  Ainsley Connor, you can do this.

  “Soup’s on!” Clive yelled.

  Well, it was now or never. Ainsley took a deep breath and headed back down the stairs.

  Clive slid the steaks from the sizzling pan onto the plates on the counter. Ainsley smiled at him and he smiled back warmly.

  He really was trying. And he was practically busting out of that polo shirt. That was plus.

  She grabbed the bowl and added salad on their plates.

  Clive carried the plates and Ainsley brought the wine and they went out to the back porch. A wall of humid air assaulted her as she stepped out the door. She was going to be a sweaty mess by the end of the meal.

  Great. Why hadn’t she thought to keep the table?

  Ainsley headed for her usual spot overlooking the garden until Clive cleared his throat. She looked up at him inquiringly.

  “Sorry, Ainsley, I don’t like to sit with my back to the open area. It’s a cop thing,” he added, not without a touch of pride.

  “Oh, um, sure.”

  Ainsley glanced over the backyard. It didn’t look particularly menacing. Fireflies were beginning to hover lazily among the trumpet flowers that were trained on the white picket fence.

  When she turned back he was already seated and chomping enthusiastically on a big bite of steak.

  Well, if he wasn’t standing on ceremony neither was she.

  Ainsley took a big gulp of wine and slid onto her bench. She cut off a small piece of meat and almost retched. It was scorched on the outside and red and bloody on the inside.

  Clive was looking up at her inquiringly as he worked a gigantic bite. She gave him a little smile.

  “I’ve never had steak quite like this. Where did you learn to cook, Clive?”

  “Seared on the outside, rare on the inside - it’s called Pittsburg style. It’s the only way to eat a steak. Everyone knows that,” he declared and took another enormous bite. Case closed.

  Ainsley realized that he wasn’t planning to have a dinner conversation. In some ways that made things easier. She concentrated on locating a well-done edge of the steak that she could nibble on. It was slow going. Finally she gave up and worked on her salad.

  In any case, she wasn’t feeling very hungry. It was partly the bloody steak. But it was also the trouble of wondering what to do when the meal was over. She toyed with her last few bites of salad.

  Clearly they couldn’t go straight to bed. But there was literally nothing else in the house to do.

  How could she have failed to think this through?

  She blamed Cressida for distracting her. Thoughts of that particular distraction made Ainsley squirm in her seat a little.

  Clive made a smacking sound and she looked up to see that his steak was gone. He had eaten it - gristle and all. Ainsley wondered for a minute if he might gnaw on the bone.

  He looked like he was considering it.

  Clive glanced up and eyed her plate hungrily.

  “Are you going to finish?”

  Ainsley vaguely wondered if what she had done to the steak even constituted starting.

  “No, it’s all…”

  He had grabbed her plate.

  “…yours,” she finished weakly.

  “Thanks,” he said. “These steaks aren’t half-bad. I usually don’t go for all that grass-fed, organic stuff, but they might be on to something.”

  He gave her a warm and grate
ful smile, then dispatched with the steak in record time.

  Crap.

  There was no more food. Ainsley sipped her wine and prayed for an idea of what to do next.

  Clive wiped his mouth politely. Then he took her hand across the table.

  “Ainsley, thank you for bringing me to your home for a delicious meal.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome, Clive. Want to go for a walk? I’d love to hear about you –what you’ve been up to since high school? It’s such a pretty night.”

  If you considered thousands of mosquitos and air that was so warm and heavy it was hard to breathe pretty.

  Clive looked into her eyes with sympathy. Then he smiled a slow, sexy smile.

  “Ainsley. You don’t need to play games. I’m honored to be here. We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

  Ainsley struggled for something to say. For whatever reason, she just didn’t feel ready.

  “Wait, there is a bed in your room, right?” he asked worriedly.

  “Yes, there’s a bed,” she assured him.

  He smiled broadly and then began to look over what he undoubtedly assumed to be his new mate. He glossed over her face and eyes but he lingered on her breasts. She became aware of her own breathing. Each breath pushed her breasts tight against the fabric of the dress.

  His jaw tightened and she could hear his heart began to thunder and smell his arousal.

  Well, she didn’t have anything else to feed him.

  And he was smoking hot.

  If she could concentrate on all those bulging muscles, she shouldn’t have any problem.

  She might just have some fun.

  Chapter 12

  Erik paced the floor.

  The porch was twenty five steps across. He knew because when books and TV weren’t enough to distract him, he’d begun pacing. And when pacing wasn’t enough he counted his steps. It made him feel like the whole thing was a bad dream and he was a kid again, counting sheep.

  But then the images would sneak in anyway. Ainsley, her small softness crushed by Clive’s gigantic form. Clive wrenching the pleasure from her that should be Erik’s. That special spark she had inside growing dimmer every day she spent by his side.

  A sharp scent in the air caught pulled him out of his thoughts. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated.

  “Cressida?”

  Instead of answering she thundered up the front steps. He winced in anticipation of the bang of the screen door.

  True to form she let it slam, then looked at him hard.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.

  Christ.

  He didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe he did - but definitely not with Cressida.

  All he could think of was Ainsley.

  Was it done yet? Would it be easier when it was done?

  “Nothing, why are you here?”

  “Um, why am I usually here?” she asked with maybe a third of her usual sultriness.

  He stopped short and looked at her again. Something was different about Cressida tonight.

  As he left off pacing to circle her, she shrunk back a little.

  What had she done this time?

  The breeze changed and Erik froze.

  “What the hell? Were you? Did you?...” he couldn’t even find the words to accuse her with. She smelled like Ainsley.

  Suddenly he realized what was different about Cressida. She was here to talk.

  The problem was, she was covered in Ainsley’s scent.

  “I went to see Ainsley today,” Cressida said, like she had just remembered to tell him she’d borrowed a shirt or something.

  He was silent, so she continued.

  “I went over there to tell her to stop mind-fucking everyone and pick someone.”

  That sounded pretty much like Cressida.

  “Then when she looked at me, the weirdest thing happened.”

  He knew there had been something happening when they met the last time. Too bad instead of applauding his good instincts he had to picture Ainsley getting laid by two of his friends in one day.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know what-”

  “We fucked!” Cressida interrupted. “She’s fantastic, she tastes like a peach and bucks like a bronco. She’s in touch with her wolf too, even though you wouldn’t think it. Would you believe she dominated me? It was crazy hot. I only wish you could have been there. Hey, you know, it was when she smelled your cum on my ass that she finally let loose. Her boobs are the size of-”

  “Enough!”

  Cressida’s eyebrows went up. She stopped speaking and waited to see what he would do.

  “I don’t want to hear about it!”

  “Why not?”

  Because it’s not fair.

  Because you don’t even like her.

  Because I…

  Because I love her.

  Shit.

  “Because Clive Warren is at her house right now.”

  His words hung in the air.

  “No,” Cressida breathed.

  Erik didn’t reply.

  “No, no, no, Erik what are you doing?” Cressida demanded.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? I mean are you seriously going to let that dumb cop take what’s yours?”

  Erik stared at her, dumbfounded.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I knew from that first night in her kitchen there was something crazy between you guys. And then MacGregor said something about her dad wanting her to choose you. I thought you had it in the bag, Erik, and you were just taking it slow.”

  Erik didn’t know where to begin.

  “What do you mean MacGregor said her dad wanted her to pick me? When did he say that?”

  “It was a couple nights ago.” Cressida actually looked a little embarrassed. “He’s still kinda hot,” she added defensively.

  “She told me MacGregor said she should pick Clive.”

  “She lied.”

  “Why would she lie?” he asked. “And why didn’t I notice?”

  “Because, Einstein, she likes you,” Cressida said. “And you were half out of your mind when we found her door open that night. She could’ve told you anything.” She shook her head. “How you could be such a fantastic lay and know nothing about women is a total mystery. Now are you going to sit around playing twenty questions with me or go over there and stop her before it’s too late? I can’t believe you were just hanging around here pacing.”

  “Why do you care?”

  Cressida gave him one of her rare sincere smiles. Then she looked down and kicked the new pine floors he’d just installed.

  “Because, you’re my friend. Besides,” she teased, “you might let me fuck her again one day. Clive will lock that shit down.”

  Erik growled.

  “Now move, Erik. Can you imagine Clive as alpha? We’d all be fucked.”

  Erik stripped down in record time. His body expanded into wolf form. His muscles bunched and he leapt.

  His head was finally clear.

  Things were so much simpler when he was a wolf.

  Chapter 13

  Ainsley marched upstairs like she was headed to face a firing squad.

  Her mind kept jumping and it was hard to focus on anything. Clive followed, two steps behind her.

  The stairs felt too steep.

  She remembered pouring a plastic pitcher of water down them when she was a toddler and then trying to clean up the mess before her mom found it. Her mom had walked in to find Ainsley trying to drink the water off the floor at the bottom of the steps.

  The hallway felt dark and too narrow.

  She remembered standing in it, trying to spy on Santa Claus on so many Christmas Eves, but hearing her parents downstairs instead. Her dad would call up, “Ainsley, is that you?” and she would dash back to her room.

  Her room.

  Right in front of them.

  She turned to catch Clive l
eering. He looked up to her eyes and smiled, unashamed.

  “This is my room – want to hang out while I freshen up?”

  “Sure,” he looked disappointed, like he’d expected her to hop right into bed.

  Ainsley hurried into the hallway and found her way to her parents’ master bathroom.

  She looked in the mirror. Regular old Ainsley Connor stared back.

  Why was she so special? She didn’t feel special.

  Stick to the plan, Ainsley. You’ve got this.

  Was it even going to work? Could she draw his alpha?

  And if she did, could she manage not to be irrevocably bound to him?

  Terror struck her as she contemplated what it would be like to really be stuck here with him. Was she willing to risk that?

  She thought about the town and the scores of men and women who had raised and protected her. She thought of wild Cressida, and sweet Mr. MacGregor, and Carol.

  She thought of Erik Jensen.

  The truth was, if she had to get stuck here with someone she would want it to be Erik. She wished he wasn’t so mad at her.

  Frustrated, she met her own eyes in the mirror.

  Ainsley Connor, snap out of it. You have a job to do.

  She splashed a little water on her face, applied lip gloss, spritzed perfume in her hair and even removed her high heeled shoes.

  Finally, she couldn’t think of anything else to do. She gave herself a smile in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed back to her room.

  When she walked in, Clive was lying on the bed, completely naked. His head rested back on his arms and he held her in his icy blue gaze.

  Ainsley caught her breath.

  He was stunning, so large and so attractive that he almost looked like a comic book character. He had impossibly wide shoulders, enormous biceps, and just a smattering of blonde hair on the wide planes of his chest.

  He reminded her of Aqua Man.

  That thought made her want to giggle. But she realized, almost too late, that he might not like for her to giggle when he was naked.

  She quickly changed gears, and as a result she greeted him very solemnly.

  “Hello Clive.”

  “Come here.”

  She stepped over to the bed and hovered by the frame, unsure whether to get in or not.