The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

been born a wolf?”
    “No. I was only curious. I think shifters are fascinating. The ones born in wolf form especially fascinate me. They seem . . . wilder than the others. That’s why I thought, er . . .” Way to put her foot in her mouth.
    “So you thought maybe I’d been born wolf?”
    “Maybe.”
    Mac leaned closer and Lily’s breath caught. “Because I seem wilder than the others?”
    “Uhm.” A sneeze tickled her nose and she fought hard to suppress it. His eyes were like molten chocolate and his mouth was . . . lovely. Edible. She could probably sustain herself for days by nibbling on his full lower lip alone.
    Was he going to kiss her? Her body tingled at the possibility of it, something in the centre of her warming in anticipation. Yes, she wanted him to kiss her. She’d fantasized about it more than once. She’d fantasized about more than just a kiss, too.
    He stared at her for a moment, then eased back into his chair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    Disappointed, Lily let out the breath she’d been holding and sneezed.
    Mac stood and took their bowls away. Outside the wind rushed around the cabin, whistling and rocking the shutters and doors. “I’ll make you some tea, a Native American remedy. Hopefully it will help you kick the cold by morning.”
    She stared towards the window. “I just keep thinking of Casey. Not so much about the storm. I mean, if he’s in a cave, he’s sheltered enough. But to be out there, hunted . . .”
    “If the storm has us holed up, you better believe the hunters aren’t going anywhere either. Casey is safe enough for now, in all ways.”
    He made tea for her and they sat near the fire while she sipped, talking of their families until dark. Sue had a sister and her parents were still alive. He was an only child and his parents had passed away. Outside, the wind still blew furiously, dropping inches of snow on the cabin. Lily didn’t want to think about how many.
    “You know, you prefer to spend your life away from the pack, but I’m not much different than you, really.”
    Mac rolled his head towards her and asked lazily, “How’s that?”
    “I’ll make a confession. I can’t stand most people. Some are all right, a small minority, but most of the time I feel like I don’t fit in.”
    “But you help to heal them.”
    She snorted. “Yes.”
    “So why don’t you do what I do? How come you don’t live apart from everyone else?”
    Lily shrugged, studying her cup. “Maybe I just can’t let go. Maybe I’m a little afraid too, afraid of being alone.”
    When she finally got up to go to sleep, Mac stood with her. He took the empty cup from her fingers and set it on a nearby table. He pulled her close and lowered his mouth close to hers. His breath warmed her lips, but he didn’t touch her there, not yet.
    Lily’s heart tripped over itself for a moment. “But shifters and humans aren’t supposed to—”
    “Don’t like rules. Don’t like supposed to. How about you?”
    “I, uh, don’t right now, that’s for sure.”
    “Give in to what exists between us, Lily.” His gentle exhalation warmed her blood. “I know you can feel it, just like I can.”
    The press of his lips on hers drove away the rest of the cold from her centre. His lips skated over hers, nipping here and there until she was only a boneless mess of want.
    “Wow,” she whispered when the kiss finally broke.
    Then he pulled her down to the bed and that was the very last thing she was able to articulate until morning.
    Lily sneezed as she stared out the window at the winter wonderland before them. Mac handed her a tissue, then went back to securing his snowshoes.
    He’d been correct about the storm ending by morning, but snow covered the ground in a good twelve inches that hadn’t been there the day before. The cabin sat nestled, warm and cosy, in the middle of all the new snow and ice, but Lily couldn’t wait to leave it. Casey needed them. It had taken a solid half an hour to even get the front door open, and snow had drifted clear over the roof on one side of the house.
    Her body ached, not from her cold but from her night with Mac. She’d been right about his tender side. He’d shown it to her amply. It was hard to believe that such a muscular body could also hold so much tenderness, so much regard. He’d made her feel cherished, even loved — which was crazy. And yet . . .
    Anyway, Mac was a multifaceted man. She wouldn’t mind exploring those facets,