All because of Boone. And still, she had heard nothing from him.

Pushing her chair back, she put her hands on her stomach. She’d eaten way too much at the diner, but given that she couldn’t remember when her last meal before that had been, she probably didn’t need to worry about the calories. Furthermore, it did not appear that anybody was seeing her naked tonight.

Dearest Virgin Scribe, where was Boone? What had happened to him—

Her phone started ringing, the vibration sending it on a little wander next to her laptop, and instantly, her hand snapped out to grab the thing. As she saw who it was, she exhaled a soft curse.

“Boone—”

“Helania, I am so sorry.” His voice over the connection was the best thing she had ever heard. “I didn’t mean to miss the diner—”

“Are you okay—”

“—but I had to deal with an emergency—”

“—all I care about is—”

“—I’m fine.”

“—that you’re all right.”

They both ended there and took a deep breath at the same time.

The relief was stunning as it flooded through Helania’s body, her muscles loosening, her head swimming such that she became lightheaded: She had had him dead. Maybe it was at the side of a slippery, winter road. Or downtown in an alley. Or on his bathroom floor, head struck on the edge of a porcelain tub.

Death came in so many forms, and after Isobel’s loss, Helania was worried that destiny was going to put a curse on anyone she loved—

Cared about, she amended. She couldn’t possibly love him this fast . . . right?

“Thank you so much for calling me.” She rubbed her aching head. “I was just really concerned about you.”

“May I come see you?” he asked. “I don’t have to stay the day, I just—”

“Yes, please. I would love to see—” The knock on her door was a surprise, and she turned around. “Is that you?”

“It is,” he said, his voice coming through both the phone connection and the thin panel.

Helania tossed her phone down, rushed over, and whipped things open. She didn’t even bother looking at him. She just went right against his body, and he was the same, his arms shooting around and holding her tight.

He smelled freshly showered, and his clothes were casual, as they had been the night before—not that she cared in the slightest about his wardrobe. The only thing that mattered was the way his heart beat evenly in his broad chest, his pulse strong. Healthy. Alive.

“Here, let’s go in,” he said as he moved them into her apartment.

As Boone closed the door and locked things up behind them, she put her hands to her cheeks. The flush that went through her made her dizzy, and she went over and sat on the sofa. Lowering her head between her knees, his loafers entered her field of vision as he came across to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was worried you were dead.” She shook her head. “Yes, I realize that sounds crazy—”

“I’m so sorry.” His knees popped as he got down on his haunches. “I got caught up in something out in the field that I needed to see through. I called as soon as I could.”

Helania lifted her eyes and then brushed his face with her hand. “What happened?”

“It was awful.” He shifted over so he sat beside her among all the needlepoint pillows. “Human female. Badly hurt. I was downtown and she crossed right into my path. I didn’t want to get involved, I really didn’t, but then this guy came out behind her, chasing her with a knife. I couldn’t let that go.”

“Did you save her?”

“I did. And after I . . . resolved . . . things with the human male, I got her treated by the Brotherhood’s surgeon. They ended up taking her back to the training center, but she can’t stay there for long. I believe they’re exploring options in the human world for her, and hopefully, they’ll get her into a halfway house. As long as her memories are properly scrubbed, she won’t have any recollections of the species—and at least part of the trauma she went through.”

Helania reached for his hand. “She’s so lucky she ran into you. What did you do with the man? Did you turn him over to the police?”

“He won’t be a problem for her anymore. That’s all that matters.” Helania blinked as his meaning sunk in. “Well . . . I guess it would be hard to report the crime.”

“It does get complicated and there are rules against interacting with humans. But I couldn’t let it go. Someone needed to help her.”

Helania thought of what Craeg and Paradise had said about him, that he always did the right thing.

“I’m glad you stepped up.” She smiled. “We missed you at the meal, but you were where you needed to be.”

“I didn’t mean to disappoint you,” he said gravely. “Or make you worry.”

“Everything is better now. As long as you’re okay.”

As they stared at each other, Helania was aware of a deepening of their connection, a strengthening of the tie that had been instantaneous and was somewhat inexplicable. And yet neither of them acknowledged the profound moment.

It was too soon for words to be spoken. Too scary. And yet what was happening was very real—and maybe that was why they both stayed silent. If you found a treasure, you didn’t want to shine too bright a light on it until you were sure that you weren’t going to get mugged.

Self-protection, after all, took many forms, and not all of them were cowardly.

With a murmur of something sweet and soft, Boone pulled her against his chest, and his heavy arms were so good wrapped around her shoulders and waist. “Did you enjoy yourself with Craeg and Paradise? They’re really good people.”

“You know, I actually did. I mean, I’m rusty at making conversation, but even for me, they were really easy to open up to.”

“What did you talk about?”

Tilting her head back, she looked into his eyes. “Craeg says you’re wild for me.”

The sensual smile that stretched Boone’s mouth had Big Plans written all over it. And not in a conversational sense. “Did he.”

“Are you?”

“Well, if you remember yesterday . . .” His broad hand stroked down to the curve of her waist. “I think ‘wild’ seems pretty accurate.”

“Mmmm . . .” She focused on his mouth. “Yes, if memory serves, I think that covers it, but you may need to remind me.”

“My pleasure.”

As he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her, he tasted like toothpaste and she breathed in deep so she could smell his aftershave. The idea that he had taken care to get himself clean before coming over made her smile.

“Would you mind if we went somewhere flatter,” he said with that sexy smile of his. “And naked’er?”

Getting to her feet, she was struck by a desperate need to be with him and she pulled him off the couch with a yank. “Let’s hurry.”

“I like your attitude.”

In her bedroom, she hustled over to sit on the foot of her mattress, and then she ripped off her T-shirt. Before she could work on her boxer shorts, Boone knelt between her knees and slowed her down.

“Allow me to help you.”

As he moved up to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around his big shoulders and lifted her hips. “I just want to be naked with you.”

The growl that percolated up out of his throat was oh, so satisfying, and he wasted no time in pulling those boxers down her legs and off her feet. Then his big, callused hands were stroking up her thighs as he continued to kiss her, his tongue teasing and retreating, getting her hotter. In fact, everything seemed heightened, every shift of his body, every point of contact—and certainly each lick of that tongue of his.

Lying back on the mattress, she expected him to come with her so they could get down to business. He didn’t. Looming above her, his hands drifted over her breasts, squeezing them together and holding them in place so that the tips almost met. His mouth alternated between her hypersensitive, swollen nipples, sucking, licking, and—

The release that lightning’d through her was a shock, and she jerked her head up even as she moaned.

Meanwhile, Boone stared at her over the swell of her breasts, lids low, fangs descended, massive shoulders blocking out the view of the outer room behind him.

“That’s right,” he said in a husky voice, “come for me.”

The sight of his pink tongue extending down and running a circle around her tight, bright pink nipple was enough to leave her in thrall again. God, she had no idea where her response was coming from and she really didn’t care. Maybe it was because they had already done this a few times the day before and her inhibitions were down. Maybe because it was because he had awakened her as a female.

Maybe it was just because he was hot as hell and he wanted her as much she wanted him.

When Boone finally released her breasts, she was sure he was going to mount her—and she was so ready. As incredible as her releases had been, she wanted him inside her with a greed that was as shocking as that first rogue orgasm had been.

Except . . . no.

He didn’t come up higher on her. He went lower.

Much lower.

His hands locked on her hips as his lips kissed a path down onto her ribs . . . her belly . . . her belly button . . .

As she figured out where he was headed, her legs sawed with impatience, and she arched back into the mattress, her head turning to the side so she could watch. But damn, there were times to tease, cajole, sensually build up the anticipation. This was not one of them. And she prayed he somehow knew it.

Tonight, she was not playing. Her hunger was just too strong. Boone caressed down one of her legs and then moved it to the side, opening her up. “Helania . . .”

No preamble. Thank the Virgin Scribe. He went right in, worshipping her core with his mouth, sucking in her sex and licking deeply into her core. She came again immediately, shouting his name, fisting the quilt beneath her, contorting her body from the pleasure. And as she writhed against his face, he took everything she had to give, the slick feel of his tongue, his hot breath, his relentless attention, rocking her world.