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Her brolga sniffed. I don’t like this.

Tahnee nodded tersely. You’re not the only one.

She checked the time – ten minutes until the meeting. Keira and Zak would have to show up soon… unless the trains were running late and they were stuck somewhere, which she supposed was possible. A quick glance at her email showed that they hadn’t tried to contact her again, so she had to assume that they were going to make their appearance.

Or else they were off somewhere else, having a good laugh at her expense. Honestly, if it turned out they were just some idiot shifters who’d managed to get hold of her email address and were just doing this for fun, she probably wouldn’t even care too much. At the very least, it would mean that she wouldn’t have to keep standing out here in the rain, taking her tenth photo of Garfield’s giant knockers.

Liam is definitely going to say ‘I told you so,’ she thought with mild irritation. But I had to come out here. I couldn’t just let it go.

The brolga hummed its agreement, for which Tahnee was grateful. It could be… well, ‘mischievous’ was the polite way of putting it. ‘A giant pain in the arse’ was probably more accurate. But when it came to the safety of shifters, they were in absolute agreement. She was willing to inconvenience herself if it meant she could be certain there wasn’t a baby shifter in danger.

A sudden shiver ran up her spine, and she turned, to see a dark figure silhouetted at the end of the laneway. It was tall, its shadowed face inscrutable in the suddenly intensifying rain.

Shifter, she knew immediately – but it wasn’t just that.

Even as Tahnee’s heart thudded in her chest, she realized that it wasn’t the thud of Oh shit, I’m in trouble. It was entirely different to that, and it took a long moment of just staring stupidly at the figure, as the rain poured down and flattened her hair against her face, before her brain started to put things together.

But still, it wasn’t enough for her to consciously know what was going on – until the figure tilted its chin up ever so slightly, right at the same moment as a bolt of lightning cracked overhead and lit up the alley.

Blue eyes stared back at her, looking as shocked as she felt.

Those eyes… oh my God.

He was older. Of course he was older. There were faint lines around his eyes, harder lines around his mouth. He had gray temples now, for crying out loud, though he still had the same old sensible haircut. He looked almost distinguished, if you put aside the way he was doing his best impression of a freshly landed fish, his mouth opening and closing silently.

But it was Robb.

Robb.

There was no mistaking it. His presence was electric, and she knew that it wasn’t just because of the lightning.

All the hairs on her arms stood on end.

“Robb,” she whispered, as thunder rumbled around her. It was a bit cliché, but she honestly didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t sure if she could say anything else.

“Tahnee,” he murmured back, and, even from down the other end of the alley, the word came through loud and clear, sending a dart of joy and longing straight through her heart.

Her brolga flapped and shrieked, ordering her to grab him right now and drag him back to her hotel, to run to him and throw her arms around him, to kiss him until they both passed out. She clamped her mouth closed before something stupid and horribly embarrassing came out of it. Not that she necessarily disagreed with the suggestions, but it seemed a bit forward. She should at least offer to buy him dinner first before having her wicked way with him.

Especially after… just how many years had it been??

Okay, stop, she told herself firmly, even as she reminded herself to start breathing again – it really wouldn’t be a great start to things if she held her breath and passed out. You don’t even know why he’s here. Maybe he’s the one who set all this up.

The thought of Robb painstakingly writing the poorly spelled and grammatically incorrect email she’d received was pretty funny, and she wasn’t sure if he would be able to make himself commit such a travesty against the English language.

On the other hand, though, he was dedicated to his job – had he not worn the most ridiculous pair of New Year’s glasses in an adorably misguided attempt at going undercover? – and besides, she knew enough about his current position to know that he had flunkies he could order around, and plenty of them.

Not that she’d been keeping tabs on his every movement since the day they’d met, all those years ago. Not that she thought about him all that often, really.

Or talked about him.

Well, not that much, anyway.

Oh, who am I kidding.

And maybe she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been able to keep their mind off that long-ago meeting. Maybe this was his clumsy way of hitting on her.

No, she thought. I can’t see him taking these steps just to meet up with me for the fun of it. He might have his faults, but it’s not his style.