Desire the Night

She frowned at him. “Are you telling me you’d know if I was sick?”

He nodded.

“How can you do that?”

“You’d taste different. Smell different.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’m just imagining it.”

“Probably. I know you’re stressed out about going back home. Maybe that’s all it is.”

“It shows, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.” He slipped his hand under her hair and lightly massaged her neck. “Are you sure I can’t talk you out of it?”

“I’m sure.”

“Maybe a glass of wine and a warm bath would relax you,” he suggested.

“It’s worth a try.”

Moving to the sideboard, Gideon poured a glass of wine for Kay, then went into the bathroom to fill the tub.

Kay sipped her drink, thinking how thoughtful Gideon was and how much she loved him. No one else had ever made her feel the way he did. With him, she felt cherished, protected. Important. But, most of all, he respected her wishes, let her make her own decisions.

She smiled when he appeared in the doorway. “Your bath awaits, my lady,” he said, bowing at the waist.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Setting her empty glass on the end table, she moved past him and went into the bathroom. She glanced over her shoulder when she realized Gideon was behind her.

“I thought I’d wash your back,” he remarked, flashing a smile.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

Gideon stood with one shoulder braced against the doorjamb, watching appreciatively as Kay undressed and stepped into the tub. Venus slipping into the sea.

Kay looked up at him, one brow raised as the deliciously warm water closed over her. “Jasmine bubble bath?” she asked with an impish grin. “Who knew?”

“Very funny, Wolfie. I made a quick trip the drugstore while the tub was filling.” Kneeling, he picked up the washcloth and ran it over her shoulders and down her back.

“It’s a big tub,” Kay remarked.

“Yes, it is.”

“Big enough for two.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“If you want it to be.”

He was undressed and in the tub before she finished the sentence and proved, rather inventively, that the tub was indeed, big enough for two.

Late the next afternoon, Kay went shopping for a dress and shoes to wear to her mother’s funeral. She found a simple black jersey knit and shoes to match, along with a black bra, panties, and a silk slip, also black.

She was famished when she left the department store. She ducked into a coffee shop and ordered a turkey club sandwich, a double order of fries, and a large chocolate shake.

She ate quickly, her nerves humming with tension at the thought of going home. Maybe Gideon was right. Maybe she shouldn’t go. But staying away wasn’t an option. She’d never forgive herself if she chickened out now. She was going and that was that. She would deal with her father and Victor after her mother had been laid to rest.

With her mind made up once and for all, she ordered another shake, strawberry this time. Good thing her werewolf metabolism burned up the calories, she mused as she drained her glass, or she would soon be as big as her horse.

“Barika,” she murmured, and wondered who, if anyone, was looking after the mare.

It was near dark when Kay returned to Gideon’s lair. More and more, she was keeping his hours—staying up until the wee hours of the morning, sleeping later and later every day. But then, she thought with a grin, it was a small price to pay to spend time with him.

When she went into the bedroom, he was still asleep. Moving quietly, she hung her dress in the closet, put the rest of her things in a drawer, then crawled into bed beside him. Her gaze moved over his face while her fingertips traced lazy eights on his stomach.

She smiled when his hand covered hers and guided it lower.

“What will you do while I’m gone?” Kay asked.

They were lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies still damp from their lovemaking. A fire crackled in the hearth.

“Worry about you,” he said. “What else?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Besides, I won’t be far away.” He ran his knuckles along the length of her neck. “Kiya, please reconsider. You know once your father has you back in his control, he’ll never let you go.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He had one last argument, one he would never have used if he hadn’t been so desperate to keep her from returning to the Shadow Pack’s compound. “Your mother sacrificed her life so that you could get away from your father. Would she think it was a good idea for you to put yourself in harm’s way again?”

He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. Kay stared at him, mute, her eyes dark pools of pain.

“Kiya, I’m …”

“Don’t talk to me!” She pushed him away and scrambled out of bed, stood with her back toward him, her arms tightly folded over her chest. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?”

Sitting up, he raked a hand through his hair. Dammit, why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? Or ripped out his tongue? What kind of heartless, thoughtless monster was he, to say such a thing out loud?

She was crying now, silent tears that wracked her body from head to foot. If she never forgave him, he wouldn’t blame her.

Slipping out of bed, he moved up behind her, tentatively placed his hands on her shoulders.

She stiffened at his touch, but didn’t move away.

“Kiya, forgive me. That was a rotten thing for me to say. I don’t have any excuse, except that I’m worried sick about you going back home.”

“I know.” She drew in a deep, shuddering sigh, then slowly turned to face him. “But I have to go.”

“You’re a stubborn woman, Kiya Alissano.”

Nodding, she got into bed again.

Gideon stayed where he was, not moving until she held out her hand. Sliding in beside her, he drew her gently into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive me?”

“You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought a hundred times myself.”

“That doesn’t excuse me.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something deep inside me, some kind of pack instinct, that’s calling me back home, something besides the funeral. I don’t expect you to understand.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand it myself. I just know I have to go.”