She chuckled, bent down to scratch his ears as though he were the family dog. “I like you, too.” After pulling the bottoms on, she reached up to loosen what was left of her braid. As she reached for her brush, the wolf padded over to the bed, leaped up and stretched out at the foot.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Amused, she turned, running the brush through her hair. “I really don’t. You’ll have to get down from there.”

He watched her unblinkingly. She would have sworn he smiled. Huffing out a breath, she shook her hair back, set the brush aside, then walked to the side of the bed. In her best teacher’s voice, she ordered him down and pointed meaningfully at the floor.

This time she knew he smiled.

“You’re not sleeping in the bed.” She reached out, intending to pull him off. But when he bared his teeth, she cleared her throat. “Well, one night. What could it hurt?”

Watching him cautiously, she climbed up, sliding under the duvet. He simply lay, his head snugged between his front paws. She picked up her glasses, her book, shrugging when the wolf lay still. Satisfied, she piled the pillows behind her and settled in to read.

Only moments later, the mattress shifted, and the wolf moved over to lie at her side, laying his head in her lap. Without a thought, Rowan stroked him and began to read aloud.

She read until her eyes grew heavy, her voice thick, and once more slipped into sleep with a book in her hand.

The air quivered as wolf became man. Liam touched a finger to her forehead. “Dream, Rowan,” he murmured, pausing as he felt her slide deeper. He took her book, her glasses, and set them neatly on the bedside table. Then he eased her down, lifting her head so he could spread out the pillows.

“You must be waking every morning stiff as a board,” he murmured. “Forever falling asleep sitting up.” He skimmed the back of his hand over her cheek, then sighed.

The scent of her, silky and female and subtle, was enough to drive him mad. Each quiet breath through those full, parted lips was a kind of invitation.

“Damn it, Rowan, you lie in bed with me with the rain on the roof and read Yeats aloud in that soft, almost prim voice of yours. How should I resist that? I’ll have to have you sooner or later. Later’s the better for both of us. But I need something tonight.”

He took her hand, pressed palm to palm, linked fingers. And shut his eyes. “Come with me, two minds, one dream. Sleep is not now what it seems. Give what I need, and take what you’ll have from me. As I will, so mote it be.”