Her.
She bent down and scooped up the dog—which Gavin could see now—and his own lupine paw reached for the door handle once more. If he could not open it, he would crawl through the window to touch her. Stroke her.
Take her.
Their eyes locked for a split second, a thousand lifetimes, and as her chocolate orbs widened with desire—not fear—his heart changed, too. One look spoke one million words, just as one touch would be worth one million years.
He had to have that touch.
And the taking would be mutual.
“My God,” he said to her. “You’re real.”
Manny looked back at him just as the Beat changed. Whatever Manny saw when he glanced at Gavin made him move swiftly, his thickly muscled bodyguard’s form leaping with remarkable speed. His driver climbed back into the limo, peeling out, the word caught in Gavin’s throat as he barely held back, knowing he should not go to her—not now, not ever—and yet how could he fight it?
For the Beat became a siren’s song, a female timbre joining his own to create a melody so sweet he would dream it for a thousand years.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Manny raced around a corner, turning left, then right, as Gavin’s changed body struggled for freedom. His nose elongated and his leg muscles thickened, ready to lunge. The call of the moon made him scramble out the lowered window, forelegs hitting the pavement. The fall barely registered as he shot forward, the wind tickling the fur that covered his changed body.
No one called his name.
No one knew his name. Not even Gavin at this point. He was white light and pure feral form now, his nose and eyes his guide. Words eluded him in this state, fully transformed to a wolf, his body moving with languid heat as he circled back to her den.
Her.
The scent of her filled his nose, his blood thumping hard against his veins, warming his skin. Eyes caught every movement, from rats behind a dumpster to a drunk in an alley, but all he could think was her her her her her.
Caught in the split between animal and human, his primal mind scrambled to hold on to a tiny sliver of humanity. In the city, in wolf form, he had no choice. His mere presence guaranteed death if the wrong men knew he was here. Animals were prey in advanced civilizations. In the woods he could be the hunter. But not here.
Except with her.
His eyes ticked up as he turned, following her scent. Her apartment window was open and the need to mate pulled him closer.
A black beast pulled up to the road next to him, a human he dimly remembered calling a name he should know. The human climbed out and beckoned with an outstretched hand. The scent was one of comfort, of knowing, and his human mind resurged.
Get in.
Pushing his powerful legs up, he climbed back into the black metal beast and left her building behind, words reforming in his feral mind.
He looked down.
He was naked, the human mating equipment on full display. Touching his nose, he felt human form. Touching his cock, he felt his lust for her.
Pressing his palm over his heart, he felt it crack in two.
Her.
He needed her.
“The Novo Club, sir?” the man in the long black car asked.
Gavin grunted a yes.
Gavin.
That’s right.
His name.
Then what was hers?
Chapter 2
Lilah let Jess pull her into their apartment building, away from the scene on the street, the mysterious limo, the man inside.
Her temple throbbed, hair wet and sticky against her face and neck. She was drenched in sweat, her shirt adhering to the flesh in the valley between her breasts. Smoky wriggled inside the cradle of her arms, digging his little claws into her chest.
Covered by only the flimsy pajamas, her skin was probably getting badly scratched, but she didn’t feel anything but the pounding ache in her head.
Well, not just in her head.
Who the hell was that guy?
She staggered up the stairs behind her sister, sweating even more in the stifling corridor. Smoky twisted around in her arms, stretched up his snout, and licked her chin.
“He seems to be feeling better,” she told Jess, readjusting his weight.
She wasn’t feeling so bad either. Parts of her that had been sleeping for months, even years, were suddenly wide awake. The world was rich with sensation, loud with scent, heavy with feeling. A delicious tightening between her legs made her steps shaky.
And when she followed Jess inside their apartment, she suddenly forgot how hot it was, how minutes earlier she’d been rubbing her skin with ice cubes. All she could think about was how it had felt to look into those blue eyes.
You’re real.
He’d said those words with a clipped British accent that went straight to her toes, making them curl, a delicious spine-tingling heat filling her.
On the other hand, maybe she did need an ice cube.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Jess said, turning on her, her catlike eyes narrowing with worry and fury.
“They ran over Smoky.” Lilah turned the dog in her arms and gently probed his furry, filthy body with her fingers. “I don’t feel anything broken. Not that I know exactly what to look for.”
“I hope nobody saw us bring him in here. They’ll tell the landlord, just to be evil.”
“Let them. This place is a dump anyway.”
“Just a minute ago you were freaking out about losing this dump,” Jess said.
Lilah knelt next to her futon and lay Smoky down on the old pink comforter. Trembling but quiet, he fixed his round brown eyes on her.
“He trusts me,” Lilah said.
“Oh no. You’re getting attached.”
Lilah stroked the dog’s body, continuing to search for damage, finding none. “The car must not have hit him, or he’d be dead. It just gave him a big scare.”
“What a faker,” Jess said. “Crying like that. Got us to run out there with the drug dealers for nothing.” In spite of her words, she had a tender smile on her face as she reached down and tickled him behind the ears.
“We need to feed him,” Lilah said. “Do dogs drink milk? Did you buy some in that luxurious bag of groceries over there?” She craned her neck around Jess to take a look at the bag on the table.
“Lilah, you can’t. You’ll never get rid of him.”
“Maybe I don’t want to,” Lilah said.
Jess grumbled all the way to the fridge. “We’re going to regret this.” Jess put the groceries away quickly. She got out a hunk of mozzarella and their last slice of turkey breast from the deli, set it on one of their four mismatched plates, and carried it over. “Man, what a day. I haven’t even told you about Mom yet.”
Lilah frowned at her sister as she took the plate from her. The pain in her head was still a steady, rhythmic pounding, and she didn’t want to deal with any more stress today.
“I’m afraid to ask.” She lowered the plate to the futon. Smoky inhaled the scraps of food so quickly that the plate was empty before she’d let go of it.
“It’s her hip,” Jess said. Lilah didn’t need more details. She knew them already.
“She has to get the operation. I know she’s scared, but she just has to do it.”
“She’s worried she’s going to lose the house.”