"I don't want him anymore."

Tristan ignored that remark. "I gave you a small gift. An ad on a new dating site." He flicked his fingers and a sheet of paper appeared in his hand. The wizard handed it to her. "This is the website, your password and your email box for the ad."

She studied the paper. "You didn't put my photo on the web, did you?"

But when she turned, her empty sofa was empty. Sam stroked a finger across the now-normal laptop screen and shivered as a premonition overcame her.

Darius could never find her. He'd written her off years ago.

Hadn't he?

Shrugging, she pulled up the link Tristan had written down. It had better not be an Other-World dating site. She wanted to date a Lupine as much as she wanted to drink drain cleaner.

The words at the top of the screen read Werewolf Match but then they flashed, as if her computer had caught a little virus. Damn. Samantha refreshed the page and this time the screen read Worldly Match, bringing singles together across the globe.

Well, all righty then. Samantha clicked on the link to her ad. Her stomach roiled as she read the description. "Attractive single female searching for the man of her dreams. I'm all curves and all verve and not afraid to howl at the moon. If you like sexy and vexy, respond to VaVaRoom."

What a horrible ad. No male would be interested. She felt disappointed until clicking on the link that read My Photo.

Samantha touched the screenshot of herself. Frantic, she clicked through the site, trying to figure out how to erase it. No photos. She must not have any photos of herself on the Internet where anyone could find her...

Especially not Darius' father. Because if Maxim ever found her, he'd turn her into mincemeat for what she had done right before she'd fled into the night, leaving the Lupine world behind for good...

Biting her lip in frustration, she kept working at the computer.

After trying for several minutes, she failed to access the account. Tristan had bought the ad for her, but used a different password to set it up.

"Tristan? Tristan? Tristan!!!"

Her call to the wizard went unanswered. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in her hands. Maybe no one would see it. It was a password-protected site and what were the chances anyone from her former life, such as her former alpha, would see her photo on a Skin dating site?

She checked the email box and her heart skipped a beat. One person had responded. "Jimmy" requested drinks at the Heathman Hotel bar on Friday at seven.

Panic faded, replaced by sheer interest. Jimmy's photo showed a balding male, wearing glasses and looking nerdy. He looked safe enough for a first Internet date.

Feeling more confident and hopeful, she responded. I'll be there, wearing a flowered dress and carrying a Coach purse.

From very far away, she heard a faint chuckle.

Four days later...

Darius had found his dead mate on Werewolf Match. And she was living in Portland, a plane ride away from his house.

He'd wasted no time in responding to her ad and then taking said plane ride.

Now he waved off the bellman as he wheeled his suitcase into the Heathman Hotel in downtown Portland. The Heathman was a familiar haunt, as he'd conducted business here for the Mitchell ranch, wrangling prices with owners of meat companies while sipping the finest wines.

Good place to formulate a plan while tracking down his now-alive mate.

Samantha is alive, alive, alive. The chant echoed in his mind as he unlocked the door and went into his room. After unpacking, he collapsed on the king-sized bed and stared at the ceiling.

Something inside him shattered like brittle glass. He wiped away moisture gathering in his eyes.

He'd forged a new life and became Aiden Mitchell's beta as they formed the Mitchell pack. Then Darius had risked everything to return to see Sam, only to hear her mother declare Sam had died.

Ellen had brought him to the granite stone marking her grave.

The news had crushed him. His mate, dead, before they'd even consummated their bond. For ten years he'd been lost and alone, hiding grief behind a wide grin and masking his pain by bedding several women. But no matter how great the sex, it left him empty and cold, because it wasn't with Sam.

The thought of never seeing her again, never hearing her voice, had turned him into an empty shell. The only solace had been planting tiny fairy slipper orchids in the forest abutting the ranch. Sometimes he'd sit there for hours, letting the wind dry the tears rolling down his cheeks as he remembered Sam's sunny smile and her teasing laughter.

His heart had died along with her.

And now she was alive? Had been alive all along?

Emotions churned through him. He didn't know whether to shout for joy or punch the wall.

"Oh fuck," he said aloud.

Pressured by others in his pack who'd already selected their life partners, and knowing his alpha would request him to finally settle down, Darius had joined a very secretive dating site for Lupines. He needed to find a mate. No more womanizing, indulging in one-night stands with Skin females. He knew the time had come to finally put memories of his beloved Sam to rest and move on with his life.

And then he'd clicked through the ads and seen Sam's face. Darius had felt as if someone thrust a knife into his guts.

Why was she searching for a mate? Didn't Sam realize how much he'd wanted and cared for her? How he'd almost died when he'd heard she'd passed? How the guilt and grief had ground into him like broken glass until he wanted to scream and beg and plead for someone, anyone, to end the pain?

"Fuck," he said again.

Flinging an arm across his forehead, he closed his eyes and fell into a dream.

The familiar, sweet fragrance of freesia and crisp snow filled his nostrils. He knew it, had imprinted it on his mind years ago before leaving his father's pack.

A small, gray wolf sprang onto the bed. He blinked and smiled, inhaling her delicate scent.

"Hello, Sam."

The wolf regarded him with big violet eyes, loped over to him and licked his chin. Laughing, he caressed her fur, rubbing her pointed ears. All his worries were pointless. She was the same as ever, fun, frisky and very much his beloved Sam.

Then she shifted back. Naked, she sat before him. Relief sharpened into aching, very male need. Darius reached to pull her back onto the bed with him.

And embraced empty air.

Rubbing the dream out of his eyes, he glanced at the clock, cursed and raced into the shower.

Minutes later, he combed out his damp, black curls and stared into the closet for ten minutes. Sweat dampened his palms. Darius rubbed them against the hotel bathrobe.

Fur was best. Hell no, both of them in wolf-skin, and then just human skin. Naked and in his bed. Eventually, he'd tear off his clothing, and hers, and tumble into bed with her to finally consummate this mating.

He chose a crisp white dress shirt, powder blue tie and dark gray suit. Instead of his usual cowboy boots, he wore polished Bruno Maglis.

Riding the elevator down, he ignored the two women giving him the twice-over. In the lounge, Darius choose a quiet table by the window. His heart pounded hard against his ribs. Sweat trickled down his back, pooling in the waistband of his black Jockey shorts.

Samantha. Samantha. He checked his gold Cartier watch. A few seconds later, he checked it again.

At precisely seven, a woman walked into the hotel and hesitated at the top of the stairs. The tantalizing scent of freesia and crisp snow teased his Lupine senses. Mesmerized by the vision of ethereal beauty, Darius stared. Dressed in a green floral dress, clutching a big black designer bag, she wore pink strappy heels that accented legs that, whoa, went on forever.

Gone were the coltish lines of youth, replaced with a mature female form. Masses of shining hair the color of corn silk spilled down her backside. She was voluptuous, with generous breasts, wide hips and a slight curve to her belly. She had grown up and filled out quite nicely. But the flushed cheeks, full rosebud mouth and big violet eyes remained the same.

It was Sam, his mate.

He'd wanted her for ten years. No one but Sam could satisfy him. Every other woman paled in comparison. Darius felt as if he'd been handed his life back.

He set down the wineglass, unable to drag his gaze away. Ten years spent mourning her loss. Ten years spent with other women in his bed simply to forget her. Ten years spent dreaming of holding her close, only to awaken and find his arms empty.

The dreams had been woven from opaque memories he'd fought to keep alive. And now Sam stood on the steps in the flesh. He could taste her scent on his tongue, hear the increased pounding of her heart, see her expression alight with hopeful anticipation. She was real.

He forgot about the Skins crowding the bar.

He forgot he was meeting her on the pretext of a blind date.

He forgot everything, except the ancient Lupine call to mate and claim.

The slow heat building inside him became a consuming need, a snarl, then a possessive frenzy triggering the instinct to rush up the stairs, tear off her clothing, toss her down on all fours and cover her. Mine.

Deep inside, the man wrestled for control of the wolf. With every ounce of considerable strength, he roped his beast and held it at bay. Thoughts of Sam naked and soft beneath him burned through his brain. Darius gripped the table's edge.

Something cracked beneath his hands.

He looked down.

The marble table had a wide fissure running through it. Oops.

Covering the line with his linen napkin, Darius drew in a deep breath. He adjusted his tie and tried to look like any other normal, eager man hopeful for a first date. Maybe a glass of wine leading to animated talk and then a good dinner, and if he were lucky, a tumble between the sheets.

Not what his wolf snarled to do. Forget the wine, the food, the formalities. Get the female naked, and pleasure her so completely that her brain cells scrambled, then do it again and again until she clung to him, begging, screaming his name, sealing the bond of flesh between them. Keep her trapped in his bed for three days until she lay exhausted, her belly filled with his young.

Oh yeah, yeah, his wolf panted, nodding eagerly. Let's do it.

"Down, boy," he murmured. "Easy. Let's do dinner first."

Darius pushed away from the table, glad the dark trousers were loose and hid his raging erection.

A balding, wiry man in thick glasses entered the hotel. She turned to the newcomer. "Jimmy?"

A snarl arose in Darius' throat. No one got between a Lupine and his mate. How dare this Skin think he could have Sam?

The man pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. "No, I'm sorry." He gave Sam a long, admiring look. "I'm very sorry."

The stranger headed into the hallway.

"Samantha!" Darius called out and waved.

As she turned, a baseball clogged his throat. "Samantha," he said thickly. "Sam."

The hopeful smile on her face turned into horror as her gaze settled on his face. His beloved mate took two steps back.

"You?!"

Then she started for the door in a sprint.

Chapter 2.

Darius raced up the steps before she even reached the door. Blood drained from her face. As she swayed, he caught her elbow, steadying her. Awareness surged through him at the feel of her soft, warm skin. For a moment he stood gazing at her, fighting the savage impulse to kiss her senseless.

"I think I'm going to faint. I don't feel so good," Sam whispered.

He slid an arm around her waist and helped her down the stairs to his table. Darius pulled out a chair, and she sank into it.

"Easy now," he told her.

See? I can be a gentleman, he told his wolf.

Yeah, right, his wolf growled back. Enough of this gentleman crap. Get the girl, get her upstairs and get her naked.

Darius signaled the waiter and when he arrived, ordered a glass of water. Sam stared at him with huge eyes. "Darius. Oh, Darius."

He sat, his heart pounding like a war drum against his rib cage. A huge knot rose in his throat as he stared back with equal intensity. Every stupid little thing in his life became inconsequential. Darius watched as moisture glistened in her eyes.

Her beautiful violet eyes. How he'd missed watching them crinkle with laughter or widen with delight.

The waiter hurried over with a glass of water. Sam grabbed it and gulped down a huge swallow.

"Hey," he said gently and touched her wrist, relishing the contact. "Don't cry, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm here now. Everything's going to be fine."

Samantha blinked and her expression turned glacial, as if someone had erased everything familiar between them. She pulled away and rubbed her wrist as if he'd burned her.

"What are you doing here?" She turned her head, searching the lounge. "I have a date. He'll be here soon."

"Jimmy?" At her puzzled look, he added, "I'm your match. I answered your ad on the website."

"That wasn't your photo. You don't have a receding hairline and glasses."

Shrugging, he kept his gaze centered on her, reluctant to share the full truth. After spending ten years mourning you, I didn't want to risk an impersonal rejection on the Internet. I had to see you again in person and find out what the hell happened to you.