that if she could look into those eyes for the rest of her life, she would be happy. It scared her a lot more than his anger had.
âAre you doing something to me to make me feel like this?â She asked the question before she had time to censor herself.
He didnât ask her how he made her feel. Instead, he tilted his head, a wolflike gesture, but kept eye contact, though there was no challenge in his scent. Instead, she had the impression he was almost as bewildered as she was. âI donât think so. Certainly not on purpose.â
He cupped her face in both of his hands. They were large hands, and calloused, and they trembled just a little. He bent down until his chin rested on the top of her head. âIâve never felt this way before either.â
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HE could have stayed there forever, despite the discomfort of kneeling on the hardwood floor. Heâd never felt anything like thisâcertainly not with a woman heâd known less than twenty-four hours. He didnât know how to deal with it, didnât want to deal with it, andâmost unlike himselfâwas willing to put off dealing with it indefinitely as long as he could spend the time with her body against his.
Of course there was something heâd rather do, but if he wasnât mistaken there was someone else coming up the stairs. Four flights of stairs were, evidently, not enough to keep intruders away. He closed his eyes and let his wolf-brother sort through the scents and identify their newest visitor.
There was a knock at the door.
Anna jerked back out of his hold, sucking in her breath. Part of him was pleased that heâd managed to distract her so much that she hadnât noticed anything until then. Part of him worried at her vulnerability.
Reluctantly, he stood up and put a little distance between them. âCome in, Isabelle.â
The door opened and Leoâs mate stuck her head in. She took a good look at Anna and grinned mischievously. âInterrupting something interesting?â
Heâd always liked Isabelle, though heâd tried hard not to show it. As his fatherâs executioner, heâd long ago learned not to get close to anyone he might someday have to killâwhich made his circle of friends very small: his father and his brother for the most part.
Anna stood up and returned Isabelleâs smile with a shy one of her own, though he could tell she was still shaken. To his surprise, though, she said, âYes. There was something very interesting going on. Come in anyway.â
Once the invitation had been issued, Isabelle blew in like the March wind, as she usually did, simultaneously shutting the door and holding out a hand to Charles. âCharles, it is so good to see you.â
He took her hand and bowed over it, kissing it lightly. It smelled of cinnamon and cloves. Heâd forgotten that about her, that she used perfume with an eye toward the sharpness of werewolf senses. Just strong enough to mask herself and so give her some protection from the sharp noses of her fellow wolves. Unless she was extremely agitated, no one could tell how she felt from her scent.
âYou look beautiful,â he said, as he knew she expected. It was true enough.
âI should be looking a nervous wreck,â she said, running the hand Charles had kissed through her airy, feathery cut hair that, combined with her fine features, made her look like a fairy princess. She was shorter than Anna and finer-boned, but Charles had never made the mistake of thinking of her as fragile. âJustin came boiling in with some nonsense about a meeting tonight. He was all but incoherentâwhy did you enrage the boy like that?âand I told Leo Iâd drop by to see what you were doing.â
This was why he didnât make friends.
âLeo received my message?â Charles asked.
She nodded. âAnd looked quite frightened, which is not a good look for him, as I told him.â She