Half Wolf. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

was just grateful to him and that was showing up in inappropriate ways. If Michael had turned out to be an emissary from heaven, she would surely have gone to hell for what she wanted to do to him right then and there.

      So, it was now official. She might not have died this weekend, but she had gone completely insane.

      When Michael moved, Kaitlin wondered if he had felt her attraction to him. Instead of turning for the door, he transferred the paper bag he’d brought from the table to the bedsheets that no longer covered her up.

      “You need to eat, Kate.”

      His voice was hushed, sexy as heck and full of unacknowledged emotion. He’d used the nickname her family used, and made it seem intimate. Beneath his keen green-eyed observation, Kaitlin felt exposed in her old T-shirt, and she was short of breath. The thin, worn fabric covering her was the only thing standing between them, and as a barrier it was a joke.

      When Michael’s gaze landed on her throat, her neck throbbed mercilessly, as if the injury somehow recognized its savior. Her body lost some of its chill and the room began to spin when his eyes bored into hers in a replay of their connection the night she had nearly died. With that gaze, she remembered the dark fur of the animal he had become.

      Needing to think and to decide what to do next, she looked away. She didn’t dare show him how badly she wanted him, or how conflicted she was about feelings that weren’t in any way normal reactions to the events preceding this moment.

      “Kate. Kaitlin.”

      He whispered to her in a sensuous, velvety tone—the voice of a wolf prince walking upright on two legs. Lycan. Werewolf. Wolf. She had to look at him. She felt compelled to do as he asked.

      His expression was set and sober. His wolfish eyes gleamed. Oh, yes, she wanted him, all right. She could argue all she wanted to, and pass this off as a trip to Neverland, but she couldn’t lie about her connection to Michael. As absurd as it seemed, with just one kiss at death’s door, he had bound her soul to his.

      No dream. No dream at all.

      “Kaitlin,” he said again.

      “If I won’t be human anymore, what about my family?” she asked.

      “You won’t lose them. They don’t even really have to know for a while,” Michael replied.

      “You don’t have any idea what they’re like, or how close we are.”

      “We can deal with that later. First, let’s tend to you.”

      What did he see in her? Why had he chosen her to save? She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, or even close. She didn’t stand out in a crowd, dress for success or anyone’s approval. In fact, she had always tried to blend in.

      Her body was lean and athletic, like a runner’s, without accentuated curves and bulging breasts. She had never worn lipstick. Kaitlin Mary Davies was five foot five, and sprang from delicate-boned Irish stock.

      She was the eldest of the two Davies siblings and had been taught to question, to test and never to outright rebel. She had been encouraged to stand on her own two feet, as long as she stood on them in relatively close proximity to her family and her home. And though she had come close on a few occasions, she had never actually slept with a man.

      “My father is a judge. Mom is a homemaker.” She spoke in a rush. “There are no black sheep in the closet that I know of. It’s a sure bet there are no anomalies in my family tree.”

      Michael let her go on.

      “Not only am I getting a PhD in history, you’re saying that I’ve been awarded a degree in animal, and that I now have wolf in my Irish veins. I will be that Davies family anomaly.”

      Deal, Kaitlin. You have to deal. Slow down. Take this in.

      Had he said that to her? His lips hadn’t moved and yet she heard those directions as clearly as if he had spoken. Was part of Michael in her mind as well as in her veins?

      “Does it hurt?” she asked. “Being a werewolf has to be no picnic. I’ve seen you shape-shift and it didn’t look like fun.”

      He was using some kind of mesmerizing voodoo to pull her gaze back to his. The jolt of electricity sparking between them was immediate, and like a bolt of lightning stapling her to the bed.

      “Yes. It hurts at first, while the body readjusts,” he replied. “Then you get used to it, and can look forward to the changes.”

      She blinked slowly to absorb what Michael said, failing to counter that there was no alternative now, other than getting used to something like that, since the only other option had been taken away. Death.

      No, not even death, since she would have come back as one of the undead if Michael hadn’t shown up.

      “Well,” he said. “As much as I’d like to stay, you probably have class today. Go. Getting back into your routine will be good for you.”

      Stunned by that suggestion, Kaitlin said, “Are you kidding? I go on as if nothing happened, and wait to see if anything will?”

      “As much as you can, because that’s what life does. It goes on.”

      “Are you a student?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I’m a carpenter.”

      “What if I can’t act like life goes on? Where will I find you if I need help?” Her voice had grown noticeably quieter.

      “Come to the park an hour before nightfall tonight. I’ll be there. That’s important, Kaitlin. Do you understand? It must be before dark.”

      “The park? I—”

      “You’ll be safe, I promise. You can bet that I keep my word.”

      “Who will I find out there? Man or wolf?”

      “Before nightfall, you’ll find me. I’ll be waiting. After nightfall, you’ll find more of your new self, and might not be ready.”

      Her hands were shaking. Her face again felt cold. As much as she wanted Michael, she also wanted him gone. Yet the prospect of him leaving seemed daunting.

      “If there’s no full moon?”

      “Any moon phase can instigate small changes,” he said.

      When Michael’s lips turned up at the corners, the moment became even more frightening. This was just another day in the life of a werewolf, while for her it was the end of life as she’d always known it.

      Afraid to move, Kaitlin watched the thing she hoped for and dreaded all at the same time happen. Michael caught her chin so that she couldn’t look away. Then he swore beneath his breath as if trying one last time to fend off his feelings...before his mouth found hers.

      The sensation of his slick lips sliding over hers wasn’t wholly unexpected. In that intimate act Kaitlin felt the wind in the trees and the dampness of grass beneath her toes. She felt moonlight on her face, and had a sudden urge to sprint through open spaces.

      All in his kiss.

      Not even a kiss, really. Merely a touch.

      However, he soon changed that.

      Adding pressure, Michael urged her lips to participate. His warm tongue met hers, sending Kaitlin spinning.

      She strained for more of what he had to offer, yearning for a connection that would tame her fears. She grasped at life, seeking to understand what had happened to her, how this man had saved her with his blood and what would become of her now.

      She struggled to comprehend the images she’d been shown and the future she would have to come to terms with if any of this could possibly be real.

      It was all so damn freaky.

      Thoughts fled as Michael’s talented mouth conquered hers in a way that left her mindless. His kiss became a deep, devouring act that demanded