She shook her head. This was not happening! “Alejo, I don’t know what to say. Except to be honest. I’m fifty-two years old. And though I have come to be comfortable with who I am, after a river of tears and a lot of therapy, I’m still aware that fifty-two-year-old women who never lost their pregnancy poundage just don’t pair up with guys like you.”
He put his fingers to his chest. “Guys like me? That hurts!” But he was grinning. Then the grin turned into a smile so tender she thought her head would float off her shoulders. He said slowly, his voice gruff in a way that shot heat straight to her core, “I think you’re gorgeous. Just the way you are.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper—if possible, even hotter. “I’d like to show you how gorgeous I find you.” He drew a breath. “But we can take things slow. It’s entirely your call.”
Entirelyhercall? It had never been her call. But she was learning to make her own calls.Go for the gusto, she could practically hear Godiva’s cockatoo squawk. And so she reached up to put her hands to either side of his face. Her fingers only trembled a little.
His smile brightened like the sun on Midsummer’s Day, and he stepped closer. Still waiting, and she understood with a dizzying sense of sheer delight that making the first move was totally her call.
She closed the distance between them, and their lips met.
All the while the little worry voice had whined, he won’t like it, you’re too forward, do I have gross breath, what if I’m a lousy kisser? The second his warm lips opened to hers, the little voice was obliterated in a tidal wave of shimmering heat. Every nerve in her body came alive as he nipped at her lower lip, and when she opened to him, he took possession with sweet, deliberate care, as if every moment was precious.
He was an expert kisser. Before she drowned in pure sensation, she managed to hold onto enough sanity to send a little nod of gratitude to all the women who had taught this man what he knew now.
His kiss was slow, and thorough, igniting sparks all through her body along pathways she had never known existed. And when at last they had to gasp for air, he pressed little kisses from the corner of her mouth along her jaw, and then slow, and ever so soft, to the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing gently.
Heat shivered through her, blossoming into a hunger she had never before experienced. As the kiss deepened, all her careful barriers crashed down, desire and joy storming the ramparts.
She was not aware of moving, only that somehow they reached Alejo’s room, and she meant to speak, to tell him to turn out the light, so he wouldn’t see her, or the softness that once had been so taut, but as he took his time to explore, and kiss, and touch, in a slow, languid pace that made it clear how much he cherished her, her self-consciousness melted away, leaving only the rapid tattoo of need.
And she—who had learned to let her mind go away while Bill took his own pleasure—understood that she no longer had to lie there. He responded with hums of delight at her first tentative touches. Go for the gusto indeed. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him the way she had wanted to since the night they met, and then trailed kisses over the fluttering pulse in his neck, and down over his chest, and then it was her turn to tease with lips and tongue, laughing when a deep rumble shuddered through him, and when they came together it was as if they had been made for one another. The crescendo built to impossible heights, and they were both carried over the cascade together.
THIRTEEN
ALEJO
Alejo woke happy. No, that would be deliriously happy, so elated he was surprised he wasn’t floating in the air. He sure felt like he was flying high, with nothing but the bright sun and the clean summer air around him.
He reached—to find an empty pillow. Then he remembered that Wendy had slipped away before dawn, but that was after they had slept in each other’s arms for most of the night. Well, half the night. The rest of the time…
He grinned.
NEST!his lion burbled happily. Really, for such a powerful, fearsome critter, his lion was as sappy as a card smothered with pink and purple hearts, drenched in glitter. And the serpent was right there below, ready to defend this new mate against all comers.
Alejo loved it. “Far as I’m concerned, you can sing it all day, buddy,” he whispered as he padded to the shower.
When he walked into the kitchen, he found Wendy finishing packing a lunch and Sam rebuttoning his shirt, as Eve leaned against the counter, pouring herself some coffee.
MATE!boomed Alejo’s serpent so loud that he was afraid the entire household—and half the neighbors—heard it, and he backpedaled a step or two.
“What’s got you jumpy?” Eve asked, as Wendy threw Alejo a quick smile of question.
“Uh, saw a spider,” Alejo said witlessly.
“Musta been the size of Gargantua,” Eve commented as she passed on by to turn on the news.
Wendy blushed like a teenager, then gave him a little grin that got Alejo’s heart leaping in his chest. Oh yeah, no regrets there, he could feel her happiness, reflecting back on him with extra heat. “See you later,” she whispered, and then she and Sam were out the door.
Alejo poured coffee, then took it out onto the terrace so he could watch the two drive away. Okay, he definitely had to get cracking on Operation Reveal Shifter Self Without Panicking Mate. He wanted everything understood between them right now. Yesterday.
Slow down, slow down, he cautioned himself. It’s not even been a week, and you’ve come this far. But he was still impatient. His mate! At last! But she didn’t know what thatmeant. Would she back off when she saw the lion?
The serpent?
Who would believe an enormous, tough serpent had a squishy heart?
The best solution was to get cracking on what he could fix right now, which was Wendy’s house. The car, when she got back. But first, he needed to take a closer look at that garden, after what he’d discovered. His mother had not known about anything unusual there, that much he was sure of. But she did not have shifter senses.
He slipped outside, and this time, summoned his serpent near the surface as he walked deeper into the tangle of trees, shrubs, and wildflowers. Oh, yes, there was a range of scents he could not identify—scents that were not native flora. Even if he couldn’t shift far enough to bring those scents into focus, he didn’t really need to identify them, because his sharpened eyesight pegged what he had absolutely missed on all his walks through the garden:
