“Hmm, Hunter,” she mewed, loving every bit of him, and he recaptured her lips as if to say he knew he did wicked things to her body no man had ever done—carried her to the heavens and back in a million shattered, ecstatic pieces. And here she thought the reason for her inability to feel anything for another man had all to do with her. That she couldn’t inspire such passion.


Hunter rubbed her most sensitive spot at the juncture of her thighs, making her beg for more—for faster, harder, fulfilling completion. And then she reached the point of no return, a blast of heat washing through her, mind-numbing satisfaction as ripples of orgasm gripped her in the final throes of passion. He joined her, milky heat filling her womb, warming her like a hot bath, and he groaned with deep satisfaction.


He pulled away, but not separating from her, just rolling backward, keeping her close as he settled on his back, her leg resting between his, her arms wrapped around him and his around her tightly. To sleep with her in his cocoon of an embrace, his rapid heart thumping out a comforting rhythm in her ear, to keep the connection.


She wanted to say how much she loved him, not in a marriage kind of way, but because of all he already meant to her. No one had ever been so shielding, or considerate of her feelings, or so determined to take care of her in her time of need, without wishing anything in return. And the sex? Oh, yes, no man had ever made her feel so sexy and wanted her like she was an aphrodisiac he couldn’t get enough of, or made her nearly climax with a seductive glance, touch, whispered word. And no man had ever wanted to keep her close after the lovemaking was done, showing her he wanted more than just the sex, but also the intimacy of sharing the same space, of maintaining the connection.


From his muscular arms that held her tight to his sculpted abs and the firmest butt she had ever seen on a guy this close up, Hunter was physically as beautiful as one of the Greek statues of gods. Deep down, he was all she’d ever hoped for in a man. And for the moment, he was all hers, although it wouldn’t last.


But the tender memories would be hers forever.


Chapter 11


SOMEONE POUNDED ON THE MASTER BEDROOM DOOR the next morning, jump-starting Hunter’s heart. Tessa cuddled against him, her voice whisper soft as she nuzzled his chest. “Tell whoever it is to go away.”


“Hunter! We need to talk!” Meara said. “Now!”


Hell, what now? Leave it to Meara to ruin a perfectly good morning wake-up.


He kissed Tessa’s lips, gently at first, then building up steam as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his arousal. Instantly, he hardened.


“Hunter!”


Hunter growled under his breath. “Time for Rourke and me to check out Bethany’s place anyway.” With reluctance, he kissed Tessa’s cheek, then left her warm embrace, dressing as she watched every move he made, licking her lips, purring, a slight smile curving her lips. Vixen.


“More, later.”


“Promises, promises.”


He gave the siren one last look, then took a deep breath and joined Meara in the hall and scowled at her. Giving him an equally disgruntled look, she motioned to the guest bedroom as he shut Tessa’s door. He knew then what this was all about. Meara entered the room and waved at a stack of wolf photos spread out on the desk, the sepia picture of the man he’d thought was Seth taking center stage.


“What’s all this?” She put her hands on her hips.


“Her brother paints wolves. Did you see his oils in the closet?”


“This!” she said, lifting Seth’s photo. “Explain what an old-time photograph of Seth is doing here.”


But it wasn’t that photograph that interested him now, or the concern that she also thought the man pictured was Seth, but another photo lying underneath that caught his eye. Sepia like the other, but this one was of a group of gold miners—their great-grandfather included, and a great uncle, Seth, and some others Hunter didn’t know. Although one seemed familiar.


“Where did you find it?” He studied it more closely, his heartbeat ratcheting up several notches.


“Buried at the bottom of the drawer underneath all these wolf pictures. So, what’s going on? We both know Seth had a mate who died in Colorado and then he left his small son to live with his pack while he went to California because of the Gold Rush. But this woman isn’t his mate, and he didn’t have another when he died. So who is the woman and infant in the photo? And why does Tessa Anderson have the two photos?”


Hunter rubbed his chin in thought. “Hell, Tessa thought Seth, by another name—Jeremiah Cramer—was her great-grandfather and the woman, his wife and child.”


Meara’s eyes widened and she looked at the photo again and at the one with their great-grandfather in it. “I would say she’s mistaken, or that this wasn’t Seth, but the one with our great-grandfather proves he was.” She stared at Hunter. “She’s not a lupus garou and our kind can’t produce offspring with a human.”


“My thoughts exactly.”


“So, what if he was fooling around with the human woman after his mate died, and this woman already had a baby?”


“Possibly, except for the fact that Tessa’s as much of a magnet for male lupus garous as you are. Why? There’s got to be a reasonable explanation.”


Meara touched the baby in the photo. “She’s not one of us.”


“What if for the sake of argument, her grandmother had mixed parents. What if through some freak mistake of nature, her human great-grandmother conceived Seth’s child?”


Meara shook her head as she studied the photo again. “We’ve never known a case like that in all the years we’ve lived. Never.”


“So explain the photos, Tessa’s fascination with wolves, and their interest in her.”


“What about her brother?”


“The females have enough males to choose from. If they weren’t so picky,” he amended, giving his sister a pointed look. “Most lupus garou females wouldn’t be interested in a male who had only a small percentage of lupus garou genetics running through his veins, I suspect. But Michael seems to be as drawn to our kind— well, wolves—as Tessa is.”


“She doesn’t have any of our senses. I know because she can’t tell what we are.”


“It’s just a thought. I don’t know how else to explain this.”


Meara’s stubborn streak was shining through. “She’s not a lupus garou.”


But if Tessa was in part, it would make it a hell of a lot harder for Hunter to leave her as she was. Word would undoubtedly spread about a mixed lupus garou female who didn’t have a pack to protect her.


The back of his neck prickled, and Hunter rubbed it.


“Okay, Hunter, so if Tessa’s grandmother was half lupus garou, who protected her from lupus garou suitors during her lifetime?”


“Probably none in the area so no one learned about her. Which makes me wonder if the woman was Tessa’s maternal or paternal grandmother.”


“Had to be paternal,” Meara said. “Otherwise they’d have had another generation of females with the lupus garou pheromones.”


Hell, did Uncle Basil know about this all along? “Do you have your cell phone?”


“Why?”


“I’m wondering why Uncle Basil befriended her, then implied I had to take drastic measures to eliminate her.”


“Did he mean as in mating the woman? Making her one of our own?”


Hunter swore under his breath. It was one thing for it to be his own idea, but he sure as hell didn’t appreciate his uncle setting him up.


Meara handed him her phone and folded her arms. “I knew he was up to something and that his sudden desire to retire was due to something lots more devious.”


Yeah, Hunter should have known the way his uncle was so eager to leave, something was up.


When his uncle’s answering machine came on, Hunter let out his breath and left a terse message. “What’s the true story behind Tessa Anderson? What’s her relationship to Seth? Call me soonest.”


Meara raised her brows. “He’s not answering?”


“I got his machine.” He handed her the phone.


She snorted. “You should have been more cryptic. Said you’d run into troubles. Call back. ASAP. Better yet, get your butt back here and explain yourself. Once he sees what you’re calling about, he’ll undoubtedly let it slide until you resolve it one way or another on your own.”


As if Hunter had any intention of worrying his uncle when there wasn’t any need.


“You can’t turn her,” Meara finally said, her voice softened.


“I don’t plan to.” Yet the more things got out of control with Yoloff and his brothers, the more he was considering just that option.


The doorbell rang and the master bedroom door opened. Tessa.


Hell, she’d better not go near the door without his protection. His heart pounding, Hunter bolted out of the guest bedroom and gave her a warning look as she was going in the direction of the door. “I’ll get it.” He was certain his sister was shaking her head at his overreaction, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the grays tried for Tessa again.


The doorbell rang once more, and he heard Cara and Ashton stirring in Michael’s bedroom.


Hunter opened the door to find the red lupus garou pack leader of Portland standing on the front porch.


Meara said under her breath, “Uh-oh.”


His expression dark and menacing, Leidolf barged into the house. “Your people are causing trouble in my city. When I attempted to contact you at home where your pack members said you were living, I got your sister. She gave me this address. I want them out in three days, or I’ll take care of the situation myself. And you don’t want that to happen if you care anything about them.”


Hunter slanted his sister an irritated look that she would give the red Tessa’s address. Meara gave him a half smile.


Leidolf was bigger than most reds Hunter had seen. Although that amounted to only a couple of dozen over the years. But the man was as tall as Hunter, his chestnut hair tinged red, his eyes a slightly more olive color than Tessa’s. But it was the dark brooding look that really defined Leidolf.