Dez grabbed one of his hands and rubbed her fingers over it. After several minutes narrowed gray eyes locked onto him.

"Okay. Which New Year are we talking about exactly?"

Mace grinned and shrugged. "Well I didn't know I had to be specific. But any New Year thirty or forty years from now would be good."

"Tricky cat." Dez turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her face buried in his neck. She became still, her breath against his throat. She was thinking. He could feel it.

"What's up, Desiree?"

"Just thinking about what'll happen when I go back to work."

"I wondered when you'd start worrying about that."

"I put in a lot of hours."

"I know."

"I'm always on call. I handle most of the big cases."

"I know."

She pulled away from him just enough to look at his face. "Okay. So you know. The question is...are you going to be able to deal?"

"Remember what you said to me the first night we were together?"

"'Prove it'?"

Mace chuckled. "No. When I had you against the door."

"Oh." She nodded. "Yeah. I said, 'If you let me go now, I'm going to blow your brains out'."

He ran his hand across her thighs, then between them. "Well, it's the same deal, baby. I have no intention of letting you go." Her back straightened as he nestled his hand against her crotch. As always, she was hot and wet. Just for him. "So you might as well stop worrying about it. Besides, the shit Smitty and the team will get into, we'll need a cop on the inside."

Her eyes closed, she let him rub his fingers against her. "So, you're just using me...like a whore?"

"Yup. As often as I can."

"Okay. I was only checking." He adjusted his fingers and he must have hit a sweet spot because she almost came off his lap. He pulled her tight against him, her head nuzzling his throat, his other hand still playing between her thighs.

What a freakin' great Christmas.

"God, Mace," she whispered against his throat. "You better...you better stop."

"No way. I wanna give you a taste of what's going to happen to you tonight...all night." And for the next forty years.

As her body tightened around his hand, Mace realized their separation for so many years had been necessary. They needed to go off and do their own thing, become the people they now were. They needed it so when they got here, they knew it was where they belonged. Where they would always belong.

Dez gripped him tight, her mouth biting into his neck. "Oh God, Mace," she whispered hotly against his throat. "God...fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Mace had to bite his tongue to stop laughing. Man, he really loved hearing her come. Even when she whispered it.

Oh yeah. He belonged here. For the rest of his life. It took him a long time to get here. And he had no intention of going anywhere ever again. This woman was his. Forever.

Even if that meant he had to put up with those goddamn dogs.

SHAW'S TAIL.

Prologue.

"M r. Shaw, you need to get up. Now." Brendon Shaw, resting on his knees and probably dying, cringed at that voice. Like ten miles of bad road. Still, it gave him something to focus on. Something to keep him from blacking out completely. He couldn't allow himself to slow this woman down. He knew her...from somewhere. Remembered her scent from somewhere. Even knew that frightening voice.

More important, she was full-human. Even though the bastards who had done this to him were now getting torn apart by a Clan of hyenas, soon those hyenas would be coming back for them. For her. They were not a breed big on loyalty or kindness. They always took the weak ones. She was weak because she was human. He was weak because he was bleeding to death on their tunnel floors. So he had to get her out of here. Now.

Still, he wasn't a miracle worker. He had at least three broken ribs, a broken collarbone, broken kneecap, and an interesting amount of internal bleeding. If he could get someplace safe to allow his body to heal, he would probably survive. In fact, he'd heal up completely in a few days-if he lived through the night. He didn't think that would be happening, though. Either he'd bleed to death trying to get out of these tunnels or the hyenas would finish him off. Either way, he wouldn't allow this woman to go down with him. So this woman-who the hell is she?-had to go.

Shaw shook his head. "I can't."

"I can't carry you, Mr. Shaw."

Persistent little thing, wasn't she?

He tried again. "Forget me. Go." He could hold off the hyenas for a little bit. Not much fight left in him, but they'd be so busy mauling him and ripping his limbs off, she'd have enough time to get out-if she'd only leave.

She gave a soft sigh of annoyance. "I can't leave you here, Mr. Shaw."

Ahhh. Now he remembered. The cop. The cop with the great tits and Mace Llewellyn's scent all over her.

No wonder she wouldn't leave him. She was doing her civic duty-or whatever. Still, if she didn't move her pretty ass...

The scent of wolves hit him fast and hard. Great. Now he had to deal with wolves and hyenas, after getting the shit kicked out of him by low-class lions. Man, what a suck-ass Christmas Eve.

But the woman seemed to take the sight of a large She-wolf rather well, cocking her pretty head to one side and asking, "Sissy Mae?" The wolf yipped in response. "I'm lost and he's running out of steam."

Perhaps the biggest understatement of the night. He'd start coughing up blood any second, which was always such fun.

Screams, roars, and the lovely hyena laughing howl-like nails on a chalkboard-reminded him they were quickly running out of time. Mace's female had played it smart and pointed out to the head of the hyena Clan exactly who had killed her lion lover. That had focused hyena attention on the three bastards who were seconds from shooting him in the back of the head like some goddamn human. He'd find the whole turnabout thing pretty funny if he weren't dying.

The She-wolf put her head back and howled, calling to her Pack.

Either the dogs appeared quickly or he passed out for a while because suddenly he was standing on his own two feet, using the tunnel wall as leverage, and a good number of canines were standing around him. Two males shifted into human and grabbed hold of his arms. Normally, he'd never allow some canine to touch him, but under the circumstances beggars really couldn't be choosers.

Besides, he was going downhill fast. Things started going dark as soon as they took him to the stairs. Then he smelled trash, coffee, wet New York streets, and...and something else. Something wonderful and powerful and delicious enough to make his mouth water and his dick get hard. Kind of a miracle with him, ya know, bleeding to death. But, man, talk about giving him a reason to live.

He somehow managed to open his eyes, and that's when he looked into the prettiest face he'd ever seen. Beautiful hazel eyes more yellow than brown, a pug nose he had the feeling had been broken once or twice. Plus a vicious spattering of freckles across the bridge and a little less on her cheeks. Her lips were full and promised all sorts of wonderful skills, and when she grinned at him he knew he might be falling in love.

Then she said, "Don't you worry about nothin', darlin'. We'll take good care of you." While the rest of her Pack completely ignored their conversation, her grin turned wicked and so blatantly sexual, he thought he might come right there. Those pretty eyes swept him from head to foot. "I can't allow this body to go to waste, now can I? It would be unfair to female-kind." Her hand reached out and swept across his brow. Such gentle, cool fingers. Soft and caressing. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful before. "Close your eyes, darlin'. Sleep. When you wake up, I promise you'll be safe and breathing."

Unable to fight it anymore, Brendon Shaw closed his eyes and let wonderful blackness come. He didn't really know if he'd ever wake up again, like she said. But he did know one thing...he was definitely in love.

Chapter One.

T hat scent hit him first. His nostril twitched and his lips drew back over his fangs. His body felt on fire.

The fever. Hurt bad enough, shifters would get a fever that nearly ripped them from the inside out. Once it finished moving through the system, though, the chances of surviving what would kill a normal human increased about eighty percent.

Brendon knew a really bad fever had him by the balls. His body shook and his hands kept clenching and unclenching into fists. It would be a long, strange trip back to normal, but his other options were much less pleasant.

And that goddamn scent only made things worse. It called to the lion buried inside him. Much more and he wouldn't be able to hold it back.

Much more and he might come all over his sheets.

Biting back a snarl, he forced his eyes open. He knew by the way everything around him looked, his eyes were lion's eyes. His hands damn near claws. He could feel the tips tearing into his palms when he clenched his hands.

He didn't care, though. He didn't care his entire body hurt. He didn't care the fever raced through him like some kind of California wildfire. No. All he cared about? The owner of that scent.

Scanning the hospital room he now realized he was safely in, he found her by the window. She sat in a chair, turned so he could see her profile. She had her oh-so-long legs stretched out in front of her and her extremely large boot-covered feet in another chair opposite from her. A big hardback book rested on her lap, but apparently it didn't hold her interest since she seemed quite entertained by throwing nuts up into the air and trying to catch them in her mouth. She wasn't very good at it, and he found that kind of surprising. Dogs could usually catch anything in their mouth.

And that's when it hit him. She was Pack.

"Shit."

The muttered word startled her and she turned to look at him, the nut she'd only moments before thrown in the air slamming into her cheek. She blinked and stared at him.

He stared back.

"What are you doin' up, darlin'?" she asked softly. "The doc said he gave you enough drugs to knock out an elephant for a week."

Oh man. That accent. Painfully Southern. Still, that accent with those eyes...all he could think about was her whispering how she was going to come with that goddamn accent.

She dropped a big, fat yellow highlighter and a blue pen in the middle of her book and closed it. He realized she held a textbook. He looked at her face, praying she wasn't some twenty-year-old. He liked his women a little older. A little more experienced.

No. This wasn't some boring, nave kid who expected him to make all the decisions. He really knew it when she swung those long legs out of the chair and stood up. Like most wolf females, she was tall and powerfully built. At least six feet with strong shoulders and arms. No model thinness for this female. She had a body that could definitely handle a rough and tumble time in bed and leave a man desperate for more.

She was what his grandfather would have called a "tall drink of water." Those long legs encased in worn jeans and her T-shirt washed so many times it wouldn't take much but one little pull to rip it completely off her body.

She ambled over to him-and that's what it was, an amble-until she reached the bed. Her body close to his, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead.

"Good Lord." With a worried frown, she put one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his cheek. Such cool, soft hands. "Oh, you poor baby. You are on fire."

She had no idea.

"I better get the doc." She took a step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her arm.

"What's the matter, darlin'? Worried I won't come back?" She smiled and it almost ripped his guts out. He'd never seen anything prettier. "Well don't you let it bother you one bit. I'll be right outside talking to the doc." Her hand stroked his cheek and he briefly closed his eyes, nuzzling her hand and purring.

"Hhhhmm. That fever must be bad if you're making sounds I never heard before. The only sounds I usually hear from you cats are roaring and hissing. I better get the doc." Again she tried to pull away, and Brendon wasn't having it.

With one good yank, he dragged her onto his lap.

"Hey, hey, darlin'! Now wait a second."

Brendon pulled her around so she straddled his waist, her generous tits right in his face. To keep her where she was, he gripped her ass and pulled her hard against his growing-by-the-second erection.

"Look, hoss, I don't want to hurt you..."

He growled, kind of wanting her to hurt him. Within reason, of course.

"...but I will if you don't get those big cat paws off my ass."

Ignoring her, Brendon buried his face between her breasts and breathed deep. Wow, she smelled so damn good.

"You need to stop that. I know you're sick and all but-"

He nuzzled one nipple then the other.

"Stop that!"

"Stay with me," he groaned against her breast, his voice sounding more animal than human.

"I am with you, and if you'd just let me go-"

"Fuck me."

"Okay. That's it."

Strong hands slapped against his shoulders and she pushed herself away from him as much as she could. He still had her around the waist, but her tits were suddenly out of his reach. He didn't like that one bit.

"You need to get control of yourself, hoss. Right now."

"Kiss me."

"No."

"Kiss me and I'll let you go." For the moment, anyway.

Even though her hands were strong against his shoulders, she didn't give the immediate "no" he would expect.

"I promise," he persisted. "Just kiss me."