All her life, all she'd wanted was to be a mother and a chef. Children and food were her two greatestpa.s.sions and she had neither.

"You forgot something."

She jerked as Quinn's voice intruded. Hastily, she wiped her eyes before facing him. He stood a few feet away, his eyes red and his expression solemn. A torch flickered in his hand.

"Sorry, I did forget, didn't I?" She reached for the torch, surprised when he held it away from her.

"No, I didn't mean the torch, I meant something else."

She glanced at his other hand. Empty. She shook her head, not sure she could speak.

"You forgot me," he whispered.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she stepped back, unsure what to say. Surely he didn't mean what she was thinking. "I could never forget you," she ventured.

He smiled and her toes curled. "That's good because I have no intention of letting you ever forget me."

He reached for her hand. "Seeing that you and I will be together for a very long time, that should be impossible."

"Together?" Her voice was faint.

"Like peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly." With a gentle tug, he pulled her toward him. Their hands linked, he guided her arm around her back and pulled her into him. "It's hard to forget someone when you wake up beside them every morning." He leaned closer.

A shiver of delight ran down her spine at the prospect of seeing his face day and night. Could they make it work?

"But I killed your mother," she blurted, seconds before his lips touched hers.

He pulled back. "Yes, and she was trying to kill me. You saved my life."

"I thought she was immortal. How did I kill her?"

"She lost her powers when she used the binding spell. She would have survived if she hadn't given you the Knowledge of the Ages. She literally threw her power away." He shook his head. "While I regret Mortianna's death with all my heart, she brought it on herself. If you hadn't done it, I would have. I realize now that she wouldn't have backed down no matter what the stakes were."

Tears overflowed once again as she sniffed and leaned into him.

"You have to admit, it'll make for some interesting stories for the grandchildren," he chuckled.

"What?" Maeve scrubbed at her cheeks. "Grandkids?"

"Yes." He released her enough to turn her toward the house. "Dozens of them."

"Dozens?" she stammered. "Yes." He grinned, his expression turning mockingly lecherous. "I think we'd better get started soon, don't you?"

Her heart grew lighter as joy bubbled into her soul. She wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve such a man, but she wasn't taking any chances this time around. She was going to grab him while she had the chance. "Now, aren'tyou forgetting something?"

He frowned. "What?"

"You haven't asked me to marry you."

He stopped, his expression so comical she wanted to laugh. "Married? You want to get married?"

"Oh, yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, relishing the feel of his steely frame against hers. "I want our children to have your name legitimately."

A silly grin spread across his face. "You're serious? You really want to get married?"

She nodded.

"Okay." He wrapped his free arm around her waist and hugged her tight, brushing a light kiss across her lips.

She purred and nipped at his lower lip before she pulled away to see him watching her, love written on every inch of his face. Had anyone ever looked at her like that? Not until Quinn. Her heart swelled with joy.

She laughed and pulled free of his arms. Taking his hand, she steered him down the hill. "That's a very nice suit you have on."

He glanced down at the somber, black Perry Ellis suit. "Thanks." His expression was perplexed.

She released his hand to move in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Now, take it off."

One With The Hunger Book I: The Shadow Dwellers

by J.C. Wilder

Copyright 1998 Lisa Hamilton Previously published by Dreams Unlimited.

Cover Art by Emily Black Cover Art copyright 2001 Published in Canada by LTDBooks, 200 North Service Road West, Unit 1, Suite 301, Oakville, ON L6M 2Y1 [www.ltdbooks.com]

All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data Wilder, J. C., 1965- One with the hunger [computer file]

ISBN 1-55316-070-3.

I. t.i.tle.

PS3623.I45O54 2001 813'.6 C2001-902072-4.

Dedication.

For those who dare to dream...

Chapter 1.

"I think you should take a lover."

Shai paused, her baked potato-filled fork poised in mid-air. She stared aghast across the table at her friend. "Excuse me?"

"Ohhh, yes," breathed Melanie, "tall, dark and handsome." She twirled a lock of icy blonde hair aroundher forefinger and fell back against her chair, a smile curving her full mouth. "And rich, of course."

"I think it's a wonderful idea, if I do say so myself." Vivian, the instigator of the conversation, leaned forward, her elbows on the pristine white tablecloth. The stub of a Spanish cigarillo burned between her fingers as she pointed at Shai. "Just what you need to get out of your rut." The rich smoke from the imported cigarette drifted lazily around her head then vanished, vanquished by the efficient air conditioning in the restaurant.

"I wasn't aware I was in a rut," Shai said pointedly.

Vivian rolled her beautiful blue eyes and looked at her as if she were, at the very least, a dimwitted child.

"Well, of course you don't see it, dear, that's what your friends are for... to point out these things."

"Even if I don't ask you to," Shai muttered.

Erihn ignored her. "Why do you think we bought that outfit for your birthday?" She waved her speared shrimp in Shai's direction. "Vivian said we had to prime the pump, so to speak."

Shai glanced at the new clothes she wore. Granted, the clothing that had appeared in a beautifully-wrapped package on her doorstep earlier in the afternoon weren't her normal cup of tea. The short, black velvet skirt, long-sleeved black silk blouse and brilliant emerald green silk jacket weren't bad. In fact, they looked lovely on her, she admitted shyly.

Before tonight she would never have dreamed of wearing such a revealing ensemble. She had to fight the urge to tug down the skimpy skirt every time she moved. She'd never worn anything in public that only covered her to mid-thigh; it simply wasn't proper. But it wasn't the clothing that worried her; it was the lingerie that had accompanied the gift.

"I'll bet she isn't wearing them," Jennifer, a dark-haired, sloe-eyed woman, speculated.

"Think so?" Vivian stubbed out her cigarette. "Enlighten us, little Shai. Are you wearing the naughty underwear Jen and I picked out?"

"That's rather personal." Shai stalled, setting down her fork with a clang before reaching for her winegla.s.s. The deep burgundy resembled blood inside the Irish crystal. In the dim lighting of the restaurant, the liquid glowed and shimmered as if lit from within.

She took a hesitant sip, her mind scrambling for an excuse for not wearing the deliciously s.e.xy lingerie.

Too small, maybe? No, Jennifer would see right through that one. d.a.m.n! She wished they'd not gone shopping together last week. She set her gla.s.s down once more.

Maybe she could say a panty raid had occurred while she was in the shower. Or armed guerillas had entered her apartment and stolen them at Uzi- point.

"Looks like you're right. She isn't wearing them." Melanie untangled her hair from her finger and returned her attention to her plate.

"I'm not sure why I put up with you guys," Shai grumbled. She picked up her fork and stuffed the now-cold bite of potato in her mouth, chewing as she glared at her four friends.

"Because we're family in every way that counts," Erihn answered matter-of- factly. "And you love us." Jennifer grinned like a well-fed Cheshire cat. "That still doesn't answer the question. Are you wearing the naughty bits Viv and I bought for you?"

Shai felt the blush heating her cheeks. While she'd been delighted with the clothing her friends had picked out, the lingerie was intimidating for someone who'd religiously worn plain white cotton all her life.

The black lace demi-bra and matching thong had lain on the bed until the very last minute. As she was getting ready for the evening, she'd kept glancing at the lingerie, torn between her desire to don it and her wish that it would vanish into thin air. In the end, she'd relented.

Sitting in the trendy New York restaurant wearing an outfit and lingerie that would have cost her a week's pay, Shai felt truly free for the first time in her life. She shifted in her seat, her bottom bare against the black silk half-slip. The whisper of black-seamed thigh highs felt foreign and s.e.xy against her skin.

"Yes, I am." She slapped her fork down on the table with a thump. "And I like it."

"Bravo, darling." Viv raised her gla.s.s in a mock salute.

"I suspected as much." Jennifer shrugged out of her black velvet bolero-style jacket to reveal gleaming porcelain skin and a tiny black leather bustier. "Maybe I should take another lover," she commented to no one in particular.

"Wore out Marcel already?" Melanie asked. She picked up her gla.s.s of wine and finished it off.

"That's the problem with men today." Vivian reached for a new cigarette from Melanie's pack. "No stamina."

Erihn swallowed a gasp as she ducked her head. Her face half-hidden by a wing of rich brown hair, she busied herself with digging a chunk of crabmeat out of a claw. "More ginseng? Powdered deer antler?"

"It would be hard for anyone to keep up with you, Viv dear. How many days a week do you go to the gym?" Melanie asked.

"Three." With a flick of a gold lighter, she lit a fresh cigarette. "I can crush a tin can between these thighs."

"Isthat why you go through so many men? You crush them to death?" Melanie teased.

Shai glanced at Vivian. "And this is a good thing...how?"

"Maybe Viv is into recycling," chortled Erihn.

Vivian eyed Erihn's Rubenesque figure. "It wouldn't hurt you to go once in a while."

"Oh no, not me." Erihn caught the waitress's attention and waved her hand at the empty wine bottles to show that they needed another one. "What would I do with a man?"

A tender look entered Vivian's eyes. She reached over and brushed Erihn's hair away from her face.

Her nimble fingers lightly traced the scar that marred the young woman's cheek. A madman in Central Park had ended Erihn's budding modeling career seven years ago. In broad daylight, he'd grabbed her as she'd left a photo shoot. He'd kidnapped and terrorized her for three long, agonizing days before the police had caught up with him. She'd escaped with her life and a horrendous scar that would forever mar her face. But it wasn't the exterior scars that concerned her friends, it was the ones hidden deep inside they worried about. To this day, Erihn refused to speak of the incident that had forever changed her life.

"I think you're perfect the way you are," Vivian murmured.

Tears glittered in Erihn's deep brown eyes. "Thanks."

Shai felt the tears stinging her own eyes. This was why she loved these women. Because they were family in the ways that counted the most. They were there when they needed one another and even when they didn't. For the past two years, they'd laughed and cried together, sharing their lives as only they could with other women. In a silent toast to her friends, she picked up her gla.s.s and drank.

"Well, I for one have no desire to crush anything between these thighs," Jennifer spoke. "Anything that gets between these legs will sigh with pleasure...not pain." Shai choked on her wine. Without missing a beat, Jennifer pounded her on the back as she continued. "I haven't had any complaints yet."

"Nor will you ever, dear," Melanie said. She grinned as the waitress appeared with another bottle of burgundy. "Can you grab some of these here?" She waved her hand at the empty wine bottles that littered the table before returning her attention to her friends. "Of course, that doesn't fix the matter at hand."