she could compete with one of Jasha's beautiful women, but now everyone in the company would know it.
That was the nadir of her whole, empty, loveless life.
She had thought she was going to have to quit the job she adored, leave the man she loved, before the gossip slipped out, and someone stopped Jasha in the hall and shared a good laugh about tall, gangly, plain Ann.
But none of the other girls laughed at her. Instead they took her out to a mall and made her shop. They made her buy the short skirts and the Wonderbra, and Celia, the ringleader of the group, had spoken bracingly of positive attitude and embracing your future and setting goals and making plans. Those women, especially Celia, had figuratively grabbed her by the back of the neck and made her face the fact that she could take action—or she could dream her life away and die an old maid with only a gravestone to mark her passing.
Okay. She hadn't wanted that. But she didn't want this, either, finding out that Jasha was a wolf and that she was the custodian of an icon with supernatural powers. ...
He slid into the tub with her, and around so that he rested against her back. His arms slid around her, pulling her close, and his words ruffled the tendrils at the base of her neck. "Meghan looked like the hottest woman in the world. But in bed . . . she complained if I made her come, because it made her sweat. She complained I was too intense and wanted sex too often. She considered body fluids—hers, mine—as the enemy. If she had seen me turn—I mean, you know, change —she would have complained that I shed on her carpet."
Ann shrugged one shoulder and tried to wiggle away.
Jasha nuzzled her ear. "She would have enrolled me in a puppy-training session."
Ann reluctantly grinned.
"As soon as she stepped in a doggy land mine, she would have put me in a kennel." He rested his cheek on Ann's hair.
He'd never turned on the charm for her before. She knew perfectly well he was manipulating her, and she liked it—too much. "You don't know her at all.” she snapped.
"What do you mean?"
"She wouldn't have put you in a kennel. She would have had you put down."
He laughed and turned her to face him. "At the very least, she would have dropped her fingernail file." He ran a knuckle down Ann's cheek. "You nailed me with a damned heavy shoe."
She bunked at his chest. All that remained of the earlier wound was a red scar in the shape of her heel.
"You ran and almost got away," he said.
"I would have if not for your speed bumps."
"I actually put them in to keep visitors out, but I bless them for keeping you in."
Since she'd arrived, she'd been nervous, thrilled, terrified, aroused, and enraptured. And terrified. And aroused some more. She just wanted to stand on stable ground for one minute, to know what he thought. "You said you shouldn't have done it. Chased me, I mean."
"I shouldn't have. It wasn't right, and all my excuses aren't worth a damn. But darling, darling Ann, I'm not sorry." His expression went from whimsical to severe. "Because to have you, I would do it again."
Chapter 11
Jasha's words echoed in the steamy silence. Ann swallowed, for in the depths of his golden eyes, she saw the red of the wolf. He meant it, and everything in her recalled the panic and the pain— and the might of his passion. The Ann she'd been before had imagined sex with him would be highly enjoyable with a bit of conflict—a Meg Ryan romance. She had never envisioned this darkness, this glory, this clawing need and fear and splendor.
"Ann, you've stepped into the middle of a legend. Now you're trapped." His voice was low, gentle, laced with sorrow . . . and satisfaction.
"I didn't mean to." She spoke as softly, but every word trembled with trepidation.
"Yet here you are, at my side. And if I would choose any woman to be with me during this ordeal, it would be you. Would you leave me here alone to face whatever comes?"
"No!"
"I think that's why you were chosen.
That was the nadir of her whole, empty, loveless life.
She had thought she was going to have to quit the job she adored, leave the man she loved, before the gossip slipped out, and someone stopped Jasha in the hall and shared a good laugh about tall, gangly, plain Ann.
But none of the other girls laughed at her. Instead they took her out to a mall and made her shop. They made her buy the short skirts and the Wonderbra, and Celia, the ringleader of the group, had spoken bracingly of positive attitude and embracing your future and setting goals and making plans. Those women, especially Celia, had figuratively grabbed her by the back of the neck and made her face the fact that she could take action—or she could dream her life away and die an old maid with only a gravestone to mark her passing.
Okay. She hadn't wanted that. But she didn't want this, either, finding out that Jasha was a wolf and that she was the custodian of an icon with supernatural powers. ...
He slid into the tub with her, and around so that he rested against her back. His arms slid around her, pulling her close, and his words ruffled the tendrils at the base of her neck. "Meghan looked like the hottest woman in the world. But in bed . . . she complained if I made her come, because it made her sweat. She complained I was too intense and wanted sex too often. She considered body fluids—hers, mine—as the enemy. If she had seen me turn—I mean, you know, change —she would have complained that I shed on her carpet."
Ann shrugged one shoulder and tried to wiggle away.
Jasha nuzzled her ear. "She would have enrolled me in a puppy-training session."
Ann reluctantly grinned.
"As soon as she stepped in a doggy land mine, she would have put me in a kennel." He rested his cheek on Ann's hair.
He'd never turned on the charm for her before. She knew perfectly well he was manipulating her, and she liked it—too much. "You don't know her at all.” she snapped.
"What do you mean?"
"She wouldn't have put you in a kennel. She would have had you put down."
He laughed and turned her to face him. "At the very least, she would have dropped her fingernail file." He ran a knuckle down Ann's cheek. "You nailed me with a damned heavy shoe."
She bunked at his chest. All that remained of the earlier wound was a red scar in the shape of her heel.
"You ran and almost got away," he said.
"I would have if not for your speed bumps."
"I actually put them in to keep visitors out, but I bless them for keeping you in."
Since she'd arrived, she'd been nervous, thrilled, terrified, aroused, and enraptured. And terrified. And aroused some more. She just wanted to stand on stable ground for one minute, to know what he thought. "You said you shouldn't have done it. Chased me, I mean."
"I shouldn't have. It wasn't right, and all my excuses aren't worth a damn. But darling, darling Ann, I'm not sorry." His expression went from whimsical to severe. "Because to have you, I would do it again."
Chapter 11
Jasha's words echoed in the steamy silence. Ann swallowed, for in the depths of his golden eyes, she saw the red of the wolf. He meant it, and everything in her recalled the panic and the pain— and the might of his passion. The Ann she'd been before had imagined sex with him would be highly enjoyable with a bit of conflict—a Meg Ryan romance. She had never envisioned this darkness, this glory, this clawing need and fear and splendor.
"Ann, you've stepped into the middle of a legend. Now you're trapped." His voice was low, gentle, laced with sorrow . . . and satisfaction.
"I didn't mean to." She spoke as softly, but every word trembled with trepidation.
"Yet here you are, at my side. And if I would choose any woman to be with me during this ordeal, it would be you. Would you leave me here alone to face whatever comes?"
"No!"
"I think that's why you were chosen.
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