The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

and whether he preferred rolls or biscuits with the beef stew she was making. Then she sent him from the kitchen with an instruction to wake the princess who’d slept the day away.
    The princess thought she deserved all the sleep she’d had. Emma had run more than thirty miles that morning. After she’d left Nathan by the highway, she’d searched through a quarter of the town, trying to track down the murderer by scent.
    Unfortunately, she hadn’t found any sign of him.
    Nathan didn’t knock. She held her breath as he came inside the room, locked the door and moved to the bed. He pulled off his boots and slipped in next to her, drew her back tight against his chest.
    “You’re awake,” he said, his voice low in her ear.
    She nodded, fighting the sudden need that was tearing through her, the growl that came with it.
    “We got closer to him today.” Nathan shifted slightly, snuck his arm beneath her ribs, and hugged her to him. “We found where he pulled off the highway and waited, got the imprint from a tyre track. We even got a fingerprint, sent it in to the state lab. Hopefully they’ll come up with a match. Any guy with a missing thumb is going to have some explaining to do.”
    Emma forced the need away, found her voice. “It won’t be missing for long. It’ll grow back. And that story will be a lot harder to sell to a jury than the one you have for this morning.”
    The silence that fell was heavy, painful. Nathan didn’t move. She couldn’t see him, had no idea what he was thinking. But at least he didn’t let her go.
    Finally, he pulled her closer. His jaw, rough with a day’s growth of beard, scratched lightly over her cheek. “This morning I thought I was having some kind of spiritual experience. The kind people have a few weeks before they play naked chicken with a train. So if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, it’s a lot less worrying than believing I’ve gone crazy.”
    Emma could only nod again, her relief a shuddery ache in her chest.
    But Nathan didn’t let her off the hook. “If you’re saying it, Emma, then say it.”
    She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “It was me. This morning, the wolf you saw was me. I showed you which logging road he drove down, and I dug his thumb out of the snow.”
    “Christ.” He muffled a laugh against her neck. “You’ve got one hell of a bite.”
    “Yes. But it also means that he’s going to become what I am. Just like I changed after I was bitten by that wolf five years ago.”
    His fingers drifted over the unblemished skin at her temple. “You do heal fast. Does it hurt now when I touch you here?”
    “No.” She caught his hand. “It would only hurt if you didn’t touch me.”
    “There’s no chance of that.” His lips ghosted over her ear, her jaw, then her fingers, where she held his hand against her neck. His other arm tightened around her waist. “This is why, five years ago, you didn’t come back.”
    “I was afraid,” she admitted.
    “General fear, or are there specifics I should know about?”
    “There were specifics. I’d lose whole chunks of time, wake up outside. And it was harder to fight myself when I wanted something.” Like Nathan. “And I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”
    “But now?”
    “I learned to control it better. And the more I let it - the wolf - out, the more control I have when I’m human.” Unable to help herself, she arched a little, rubbed her bottom against him, then choked out an embarrassed laugh. “But my control still isn’t perfect.”
    His hand moved down to her hip, stroked the length of her thigh. “That isn’t exactly a turn-off.”
    From the evidence blatantly present, she’d already realized that. Emma let go of his hand, twisted her fingers in the sheets. She didn’t have much practice at controlling arousal, but her nails didn’t rip the cotton, thank God. Her hips worked back against him and she panted, “We can’t.”
    Nathan stilled. “Now, or ever?”
    “Now. I hear Aunt Letty coming up the stairs.”
    He groaned against her neck. Emma laughed, but it was cut short when he rolled her over and fastened his lips to hers.
    Oh, God, he tasted so good. Smelled so good. Felt so good. She pushed her fingers into his hair, opened her mouth to the slick heat of his tongue. His hips pushed between her thighs and he rocked forwards once, twice; her breath caught on each movement, her body aching for completion.
    But it wouldn’t be