Peter dropped his gaze to see what Paterson was about to shoot and the breath gushed out of him in a raw laugh.Lips twitching, he dropped into another crouch, scooping up the long, grey-green, scaly creature casually walking toward him.“G’day, Rex,” he said, lifting the lizard up to his face to give it a slight smile.“You wouldn’t be able to tell me what happened to that sister of mine, would you?”
Rex looked back at him, flat tongue flicking out in nervous, little jabs at the air.
Peter’s smile disappeared.“No.I didn’t think so.”
Shit.
Regan opened her eyes.Slowly.She peered around the dark room, squinting at the thin shards of bright light pushing through a narrow crack in the curtains on the far wall.Where was she?
She pressed her palms to the spongy mattress beneath her and struggled into a sitting position, taking in the kitsch, framed prints on the wall and the sunken bed beside her.A hotel room?Was she in a hotel room?The sound of traffic hummed beyond the walls; cars, trucks, motorcycles, and behind those typical urban noises the distant cries and squawks of seagulls.God, she could be anywhere.
Swinging her legs around, she placed her bare feet on the floor and pushed herself upright.Black swirling stars filled her head immediately and she flopped back down to the bed, a dull throb pounding up her jaw into her temple.She lifted her hand, running her fingers along the aching beat.
Damn it!He’d hit her!He’d actually hit her.
“I’m sorry about that.”
The softly spoken words with their even softer accent caressed her ears and she spun around, staring through a fresh wave of black stars at the man sitting in the armchair behind her.
At some stage he’d found himself some clothes.A pair of very faded blue jeans hugged his long, lean legs, emphasizing the corded strength of his thighs and impressive bulge between them, and a black Ramones t-shirt covered a torso Regan remembered being hard and smooth and wonderful to touch.A squeezing sensation rolled through her belly into the warm centre between her legs.Regan scowled.Goddamn it!The man had kidnapped her and here she was feeling horny?She steadied herself on the bed, giving her abductor a mean glare.“Yeah, well sorry doesn’t cut it, mate.If you wanted me to leave that badly you could’ve asked.”
To her surprise, the man laughed, the sound rich and relaxed.“Ididask.You decided to make a phone call, remember?”
Regan closed her eyes.Shit.Peter would be going out of his mind.Probably had the entire Sydney City Police Force out looking for her.
And with good reason?
She flicked a shuttered gaze to the man watching her.She didn’t know.Yet.
“I truly am sorry about the jaw.”The Irish lilt played over her senses like a feather and she suppressed a shiver.She really needed to get her act together.Who knew what he had in store for her?“But we had to go.I couldn’t wait.”Grey storm-cloud eyes grew intense.“Wecouldn’t wait.”
Regan edged into a more comfortable, but easy-to-spring-from position on the bed, checking out how close and easy to reach the phone was in case she needed to swing it.“What are you?”
The blunt question didn’t seem to offend him.In fact, those defined lips curled into a small smile.“Apart from a freak, you mean?”
Regan didn’t bat an eyelid.“Yes.Apart from that.”
“A werewolf.”
It was Regan’s turn to laugh.“Oh, right.A werewolf.Of course.Why didn’tIthink of that?”
The man’s smile stretched wider.“I thought it was pretty obvious myself, love.Considering one minute you were stroking my fur and running your fingers up and down myfourlegs—which I enjoyed immensely, I might add—and the next I was standing before you ontwo.Furless.”
A very large, hard lump suddenly stuck in Regan’s throat and her head swam again.The memory of the wolf’s unusual humerus and pelvic bone crashed over her, as did her surreal response to the animal’s inherent power.Her skin prickled into clammy gooseflesh.She stared at the man still watching her from his chair, her pulse a rapid hammer pounding in her neck.“Holy shit.”
The man’s smile turned dry.“There’s nothing holy about werewolves, love.”
Frazzled anger shot through Regan and she gave her abductor a glare.“Stop calling me love.”
Even blacker eyebrows shot up, a light she could only describe as mischievous glinting in his grey eyes.His smile grew wider.Wolfish.“And what would you be having me call you, then?”
“My name’s Regan.”
With a speed she’d seen from him before, both as man and wolf, he was on his feet, across the short distance between them and beside the bed.He extended his right hand, the mischievous light in his eyes now devilish.“Declan O’Connell.Your kidnapper for the day.”
Regan ignored his hand, even as a tight, wet heat unfurled in the pit of her stomach at his proximity.His clean but musky scent threaded through her breath and she pressed her thighs closer together, trying her best to ignore the constricting pressure between them.“For the day?”she repeated, looking at him squarely in the face.“So this is just a twenty-four hour thing?Like a twenty-four hour flu?”She paused.“Only more annoying?”
The man—Declan—chuckled, but Regan didn’t miss the dark tension in his gaze.“Perhaps ‘for the day’ was a poor choice of words.”
