I crept to him, stood on tiptoes and kissed the back of his neck—or that was my goal, though I barely reached his collar. He glanced over his shoulder in surprise. I put my hands on his sides and leaned in, laying my cheek against the middle of his back.

“Remember when we met? Before you left, you said you were going to make a fool of yourself over me. That’s still what you’re worried about. That you’ll find yourself doing things you never dreamed of doing, things you laughed at in others, and you’ll make a fool of yourself.”

A sigh rippled through him. “You never cut me any slack, do you? You can’t find some unselfish motive, like that I don’t want to hurt you. Or even a romantic one, perhaps that I’m worried about having my heart broken.”

“A broken heart is just a fancy way of saying you’ve been made a fool of—that you opened up, let someone in, and they took advantage. As for hurting me, I’m sure that’s in there somewhere, but it’s not the driving factor.”

“Dare I ask what is, in your opinion?”

“That a relationship with me would not only be inconvenient, but potentially humiliating. After all these years of being happy on your own, why risk that for a relationship that might not work out?”

“Sounds like you’re trying to dissuade me.”

I kissed the back of his shirt. “If you can be dissuaded, I think you should be.”

“No. I don’t think I can.”

He turned, pulled me to him and kissed me. Then he waited. After a moment of silence, he sighed. “My grand confession, my soul laid bare, and you aren’t even going to throw me a scrap, are you?”

“If you’re waiting for me to say that the idea of being a werewolf’s chosen mate is incredibly romantic, maybe swoon at your feet…”

“Perish the thought.”

“Granted, my mother would be thrilled to see me hook up with someone, but a fifty-year-old werewolf thief might not be her idea of the ideal partner.”

“We won’t tell her about the thief part. Or the werewolf part.” A pause. “Or the fifty-year-old part.”

“If you ask me whether a fifty-year-old werewolf thief is my ideal partner, in my idealized life…”

“I suppose not.”

“Sorry.” I looked up at him. “But if you ask me whether it’s what I want, my answer might be different. No guarantees. But there’s a strong possibility.”

“I can live with that.”

He scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom.

LUCAS 3

LUCAS

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