“Carol…” Ryan released her arm and shoved his hands in his pockets, his head bent to speak more privately with her. “Are you sure you didn’t overhear conversations, which is how you came to the conclusions you did and were able to solve the case?”

  Instantly, he stoked her ire. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. So he truly wasn’t interested in her. “What are you inferring?”

  He cleared his throat. “Darien and his brothers wouldn’t let me speak with you concerning this matter when I was here before, first, because you had been injured so, and after that…” Ryan shrugged. “They were being protective, I suppose. But after giving your situation further thought—”

  “For five months?” Her voice was rife with annoyance, yet she wondered why he’d truly thought about it for that long. Just a rabid need to learn the truth? Or was there more to the story than he was letting on?

  Calmly, he ignored her outburst and continued. “Just that you may seem to have psychic powers or a sixth sense or something, but in truth…” He let his words fade, allowing her to draw her own conclusions, his gaze studying her eyes, observing her reaction. Like a P.I. and former cop would. Most likely jaded. Believing the worst in anyone they thought might have something to hide.

  In truth, what did he believe?

  She opened her mouth to speak but then clamped her lips shut. Hell, ever since her seventh birthday, after nearly drowning in a lake—well, technically she had drowned in the lake, been declared dead, and then revived, she’d had these unwelcome visions She’d thought everyone else did, too, until she mentioned one to her mother.

  She still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. She’d explained how she’d seen a man driving a pickup truck down the street from where they lived and running over one of her classmates. Except that the accident didn’t happen until two days later. And the boy died. Night terrors followed, waking her, and she’d try to catch her breath, tears streaking down her cheeks, her pillow soggy.

  Horrified and unable to deal with what she’d seen, she finally told her parents. They’d immediately sent her to a special doctor to get rid of her episodes. After three years of visits, he gave up on her, declaring her utterly hopeless. Well… even worse than that. To mollify her parents, he’d said in an appeasing, but not very sincere way that she’d probably grow out of it. The real reason he dropped her as a patient in such a hurry went deeper than that.

  Waiting for her to respond, Ryan cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Sorry. You had a question for me?” She tapped her fingers on her folded arm, an insincere smile playing on her lips. He hadn’t asked her a question, but the way he spoke was definitely a ploy to get her to respond to his observations. And she wasn’t biting.

  “Don’t you suppose you might have come by the information you did through some means other than a psychic connection?”

  “Hmm, sure. That’s what happened.”

  Ryan’s mouth curved up ever so slightly, but she could tell he wasn’t being taken in by her surrender.

  Before she’d become caught up in the werewolf culture, she’d kept her abilities secret. Now that those in this pack knew about her, she really didn’t care if any were skeptical. As long as they didn’t try to tell her that she didn’t have a sixth sense because it wasn’t possible. She supposed that was all because of Dr. Metzger and the way his icy blue eyes would peer through his brass-rimmed glasses at her, while his big chin tilted down, condemning, judging.

  If people didn’t believe her in private, fine. Yet, usually if people confronted her like this, she would smile disingenuously and tell them how right they were. She never felt the need to defend what she could see when others couldn’t, or what she could envision or perceive sometimes when she touched an object.

  “But you truly believe otherwise,” Ryan finally said.

  This time her smile was bright and true to her feelings. She couldn’t help liking Ryan, despite his denial of her abilities. He had an easy but determined manner about him, not brusque like Darien or teasing like Jake or afraid to make waves like Tom. His determination was matched only by her own.

  She glanced at the men standing about, including both Tom and Jake. Which made the situation worse. Why couldn’t any of the alpha males show any real interest in her? She was not a beta kind of girl. She supposed that was because her father had become so downtrodden by her mother’s treatment of him. She couldn’t see being married, um, mated to someone like that.

  “Carol?” Ryan said, his deep baritone voice again yanking her from her faraway thoughts.

  She really needed to get more sleep. She turned her attention back to Ryan. He thought she wasn’t being honest with him about her abilities, when he wasn’t honest about why he had been lurking in the woods last night, watching her window. She didn’t have to be psychic to know something more was going on between them. Time to turn the tables. Throw him off balance.

  Trying to look like this was a perfectly natural way for her to act, she smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and leaned into the soft sweater covering his hard body, which instantly reminded her just how hard his body was when he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. She only meant to give him a slow kiss on the mouth, just to prove to him that he had another agenda that he wouldn’t admit to. Or if not, then maybe Tom or Jake would finally show some interest in her. But more than anything, she wanted to get Ryan off the subject of her abilities before she said something in anger that she shouldn’t.

  To her surprise, he eagerly captured her mouth with his. Not cautiously, building up the desire in slow careful increments, but judiciously, as if he had been starved for affection for a very long time. His hand cupped the back of her head, his free hand drifting lower on her back and holding her in place.

  She hadn’t meant to respond so fully to the kiss either, but his unbridled need fed into hers. Forgetting they had an audience, she parted her lips to accept him, to open an intimate path between them, their tongues dancing, touching, exploring. Her hands fisted in his soft sweater at the back of his neck and held him even tighter. She pressed her body against his hard muscles, and shamelessly she wanted more.

  But then he released her and unwrapped her arms from around his neck, his eyes smoky and dark, his expression otherwise unreadable, his hands still securely holding her wrists. Their breaths came quickly as their hearts thundered at a runner’s pace. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but she didn’t want to hear the apology she figured he would offer or another word about her abilities, if that’s what he had in mind.

  She quickly spoke instead. “I accept. Come pick me up for a date at six o’clock. Promptly.”

  She’d show him he wasn’t as much in control of the situation as he might think.

  Then she winked, pulled free, and stalked off toward the house without a backward glance, her blood sizzling with arousal and irritation.

  She harrumphed under her breath. All the idiotic romantic notions she had been harboring for Ryan McKinley… and all he really wanted was for her to confess she wasn’t psychic?

  She doubted Ryan would take her on a date, and she doubted even more that Darien would allow it. But if the date did come to pass, she would get out of the gathering of bachelor males tonight, and she’d give Ryan McKinley a piece of her mind.

  * * *

  Ryan stared after Carol as she stalked toward the house, sparing Jake and Tom a smile before disappearing inside. What the hell had just happened?

  Did she think that if she kissed him, he’d forget why he’d come here to see her? Hell, if she had, he hated to admit that for a moment, it had worked. Never had a woman taken him by surprise like that. Never had one heated his blood to volcanic proportions with the way her body had pressed against his, her tongue slipping into his mouth and dancing in an erotic way with his.

  The spark of electricity between them couldn’t be denied. So what had gotten into him to kiss her back? Convention. If he was interested in a woman, he let her know it. But he sure as hell hadn’t planned to go down that path. Not that she wasn’t intriguing as hell, but she sure wouldn’t be interested in someone like him who didn’t believe in her special “abilities.”

  Would she tell him the truth tonight on a date?

  Or would they get themselves into even hotter water if he spent any more time alone with her? He hadn’t even been alone with her.

  He breathed in the air and still smelled her sweet feminine scent, a mixture of jasmine and the fresh grass that she’d been lying in after Mervin knocked her flat on her back. He could still feel the way her body had pressed against him, her breasts and her thighs, soft and curvaceous and sensuous. If he didn’t keep his distance from her, he would forget what he’d come here for. Was that her ploy? Sidetrack him with a siren’s lure and keep her secrets to herself? The vixen.

  All he wanted was to close the file on the murder case in Silver Town permanently. So why didn’t that thought appeal to him? He should have been satisfied to return home and get on with his own business.

  Tom and Jake glowered at him and then headed into the house. Ryan was beginning to think that this case wouldn’t be cleared up easily, particularly if she employed her feminine wiles to tangle with him. Yet a deeper primal urge growled to be released, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep it leashed—even though Carol was newly turned and probably didn’t understand what she was getting herself into.

  * * *

  “What did Ryan McKinley want?” Lelandi asked Carol, as she fixed a double cheeseburger for herself in the kitchen, where the aroma of seasoned burgers and cheesecake and lemon meringue pie filled the air.

  Everyone else had already taken their food outside or into the dining area or sunroom, and laughter and conversation drifted through the house like the cool breeze through the open kitchen window.

  Carol dished a hamburger onto a bun and topped it with a slice of pickle and tomato. Although she was fuming inside, she smiled at Lelandi.

  “He wanted a date. Isn’t that nice?”

  Lelandi fumbled with her plate and nearly dropped it. “You can’t be serious. Darien will never allow it.”

  Silva, who Carol swore overheard conversations better than any werewolf alive, sauntered into the kitchen. “My, my… sounds like McKinley is harboring a death wish—or he’s one determined wolf. I heard he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.”

  Heard? Or had she seen something out one of the windows?

  Silva chuckled. “Yep. The bachelors are ready for a showdown.”

  Eyes wide, Lelandi asked, “He kissed you and then asked for a date?” She shook her head. “He’s got nerve.” But her tone of voice reflected a trace of approval, and Carol noted a shadow of a smile in Lelandi’s expression.

  Carol almost laughed to think she had been the one to suggest the date, and that if she hadn’t pushed Ryan into proving something to the other guys, he would never have kissed her. How could he not believe her about her psychic abilities after all that had happened? Even Darien’s people believed her.

  In fact, she thought a couple of his people were a little afraid of her because of it. What if someone did something that he or she shouldn’t, and then Carol envisioned it and shared their misdeeds with Darien? At least, that’s what she thought might bother some of them. Beyond that, she really didn’t think Ryan would come tonight.

  Lelandi smiled and lifted her burger. “You know when Darien told Ryan he didn’t want him interfering in the investigation, Ryan stubbornly refused to take no for an answer.” She shrugged. “I doubt he will this time, either.”

  Carol didn’t know that Ryan had been told he couldn’t help with the investigation, just that Darien hadn’t liked the idea. But she couldn’t believe this issue of whether or not she was psychic was such a big deal that he’d butt heads with Darien over it.

  “So what’s the gathering all about?” she asked, figuring that was what she’d have to prepare herself for next. Forget Ryan and his agenda.

  “You won’t be alone with a bunch of men, Carol, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll be there with Darien, presiding over the party. Silva will be there and Sam, too, serving refreshments. Two other women are coming from another wolf community. They like what we have here—where wolves run the town and not humans. One’s a librarian who wants to start a library in town. And the other is a masseuse. I think she’s going to be a real hit.”

  All of a sudden, Carol didn’t feel so important. Not that she wanted to mate with someone for life whom she wasn’t interested in… but to compete with a masseuse? Carol probably had the librarian beat. She shook her head at herself. This was still barbaric. And she wasn’t going along with it.

  Lelandi was rattling off a list of names of married couples who were going to attend, but Carol watched the way she rubbed her fingers over her stomach every once in a while, and Carol’s mouth dropped open. “You’re pregnant?”

  Her gaze riveting from her cheeseburger to Carol, Lelandi’s lips parted for a second, and then she smiled. “Four and a half months.”

  Silva immediately put her hand on Lelandi’s belly. “Well, I’ll be. Just how long were you going to hide this little secret from us, sugar?”

  “At least until after the games today. If I’d mentioned it before then, Darien wouldn’t have let me play. You know how he is.”

  That’s why he was being so careful with her on the playing field and why Lelandi had been napping more lately. He had to have realized Lelandi was pregnant. Carol grinned.

  “Wow, this is really a reason to celebrate. Triplets. Just like I had envisioned.”

  “Do you know what sex they are?” Silva asked Carol.

  Three boys, but Carol looked at Lelandi to see if she wanted to know.

  Lelandi shook her head. “No. If you know, don’t tell me. And I don’t want to mention that I’m expecting tonight. This is your coming out. Not the other ladies’ either. They’ve already been introduced to their wolf packs to court. And neither cared for their prospects. So that’s why they’re here.” She took another bite of her burger.

  “They were born lupus garous, weren’t they?” Carol asked, hoping that at least one of them was newly turned like she was.

  “Yes. And, they don’t get along. So I’m hoping one will stay and the other will look elsewhere. I’ve already interviewed them, and both seem pleasant enough by themselves. But there’s some hostility between them, having to do with families, I think.”

  Silva grabbed a plate with chips and a burger. “So what if a couple of the guys want the women, and they both end up staying here?”

  “We’ll have problems. Darien has already counseled the men and said that if matches are made, one of the couples will most likely have to move on. But finding a mate is so important that the men are willing.”

  Carol gave a short laugh. “Especially with a chance at a masseuse.”

  “I don’t know, Carol. You’re more of a known quantity, one of our own, and no one would have to leave the pack,” Lelandi said.

  “Hmm, nothing else, then?”

  Lelandi smiled. “I sure didn’t put that right, did I? The guys have been talking about you. They shut up when I’m around, but they’re intrigued.”

  “Same here.” Silva waved a potato chip. “As soon as I hear your name mentioned at the tavern, I check on the table next to them, but the guys see me coming and end the conversation. So, yep, they’re interested.”

  “Sure are. For five months, they’ve been bugging Darien—or his brothers so they would relay the information to Darien—to let them date you,” Lelandi said.

  “And you’ve been the one to keep them from dating me.” Carol felt relieved in a way. At least she was glad that they had not been avoiding her because they thought her too different.

  Her green eyes flashing with humor, Lelandi laughed. “Not all my doing. Darien wanted you to adjust to being one of us, and he wants you to shape-shift first. We never thought anyone who was newly turned could prevent the shift for this long, though.”

  For the first time, Carol was glad for her psychic abilities, if that was what was keeping her from shifting. She just hoped she could put it off forever, or that her visions of Doc being unable to shift back to human form were a mistake. That the worry about him was something benign.

  But the event tonight was what she had to deal with now. She hoped that Ryan would come for her, that Darien would allow it, and she’d be able to skip the whole affair—even if it meant dealing with Ryan’s inquisition.

  Chapter 6

  NORTH HAD AVOIDED BEING ANYWHERE NEAR THE TWO women, both gray wolves from another pack and both newly sick from the bioengineered plague that Miller had concocted for them. The lure of money had worked. So from a distance, North observed the way Marilee and Becky looked. Sexy, he thought. Like sending the Trojan horse as a gift to Troy during the Trojan War, the women would attend the gathering and infect as many of Darien’s damn people, and Darien himself, as they could. Payback was hell.

  The only drawback was if Carol got sick. She was the one he wanted. A red, turned by his own cousin. She would be his, and being a nurse, she could counter the effects of the sickness, if Miller was lying about his intentions.

  The women entered the house, and he briefly saw Lelandi smile and motion for them to follow her. Carol could also take care of Lelandi, in the event she got sick. It wasn’t Lelandi’s fault she’d left their red pack. Damn their previous pack leader and his brutish ways.

  North took a deep breath and slunk into the woods. The package had arrived.

  His next mission was grabbing Carol before it was too late.

  * * *

  Normally, Ryan would dress casually on a fact-finding mission—in jeans and turtleneck or T-shirt, depending on the weather. So why the hell was he dressing up for this “affair?” He scoffed at himself for making such a big deal of this as he peered into the bathroom mirror of his room at the bed and breakfast. He ran his hand over the five-o’clock shadow that gave him more of a wolfish look and considered whether to shave again or not.