Eric said, “I’m sorry, my lover. Unless you’ve buried someone else on your property and kept it from me, that body is Debbie Pelt’s.”

That was what I’d been afraid of. “Is the car back there, too?”

“No, the car is sunk in a pond about ten miles south of your place.”

That was a relief. “Well, at least it was a werewolf who found it,” I said. “I guess we don’t have to worry about it, unless Alcide can identify her scent. They won’t go digging the body up. It’s none of their doings.” Debbie had been Alcide’s ex-girlfriend when I’d had the misfortune to meet her. I don’t want to drag out the story, but she’d tried to kill me first. It took me a while, but I’m over the angst of her death. Eric had been with me that night, but he hadn’t been in his right mind. And that’s yet another story.

“Come here,” Eric said. His face held my very favorite expression, and I was doubly glad to see it because I didn’t want to think too much about Debbie Pelt.

“Hmmm. What will you give me if I do?” I gave him a questioning eye.

“I think you know very well what I will give you. I think you love me to give it to you.”

“So . . . you don’t enjoy it at all?”

Before I could blink he was on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart, leaning in to kiss me. “I think you know how I feel,” he said, in a whisper. “We are bonded. Can you believe I’m not thinking of you while I work? When my eyes open, I think of you, of every part of you.” His fingers got busy, and I gasped. This was direct, even for Eric. “Do you love me?” he asked, his eyes fi xing mine.

This was a little difficult to answer, especially considering what his fingers were doing. “I love being with you, whether we’re having sex or not. Oh, God, do that again! I love your body. I love what we do together. You make me laugh, and I love that. I like to watch you do anything.” I kissed him, long and lingeringly. “I like to watch you get dressed. I like to watch you undress. I like to watch your hands when you’re doing this to me. Oh!” I shuddered all over with pleasure. When I’d had a moment of recovery, I murmured, “If I asked you the same question, what would your answer be?”

“I would say exactly the same thing,” Eric said. “And I think that means I love you. If this is not true love, it’s as close as anyone gets. Can you see what you’ve done to me?” He didn’t really have to point. It was pretty damn obvious.

“That looks painful. Would you like me to nurse it?” I asked, in the coolest voice I could manage.