"Elizabeth?"

As he got to the center of the kitchen, he spotted a yellow sticky note, stuck to the middle of the table. He hesitated, not sure he wanted to look at it. Even though he knew it was a note for him.

The yellow paper was indeed marked with small, precise, very feminine writing.

Jensen, I'm sorry I'm saying this the way I am.

But this isn't going to work out.

I cannot see you again. I'm sorry.

E.

Jensen stared at the yellow paper, the adhesive sticking to the pads of his fingers. She'd done it again-her usual disappearing act. Only this time, he did have an answer.

They didn't have a relationship. That much he finally got, loud and clear. And he wasn't getting his shirt back.

Chapter 11.

Elizabeth stood in the woods, watching her house. After what seemed like ages, Jensen stepped out onto her porch. The first thing she noticed was that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Then she recalled that was because she wore his shirt, and she felt even worse about her actions. Even though they had been the right ones. She couldn't see him anymore. Not when she was what she was.

Last night, she could have really hurt him. It was sheer luck she hadn't. It certainly hadn't been something she'd controlled. She didn't even know why it happened, and she couldn't risk it happening again. Lycanthropy was easy to transmit, and she couldn't risk pa.s.sing it on to him. Then he would really hate her.

She watched as he cast a glance around, still looking for her, even after the cold and impersonal note. Given the repeated impressions she must have made on this man, she couldn't begin to understand why he kept looking for her. She certainly hadn't done anything to make him think she was worth his time. Still, the idea that even now he wanted her made it nearly impossible to remain there, hiding, watching.

But she did, keeping her muscles absolutely still, barely even pulling in a breath. She wasn't sure if that was because she didn't want him to detect her, or if it was because she was too busy trying to commit Jensen to memory.

His skin looked more golden in the early morning light, his muscles undulating easily with his strides down the steps. He glanced at the barn, then, to her surprise, he headed in that direction. He entered, but only stayed inside a few moments. Long enough to see she wasn't there. Then he strode to his truck.

She opened her mouth, the urge to stop him almost making her cry out. But instead, she snapped her lips shut, biting the inside of her cheek until the pain of the squeezed flesh almost overshadowed the pain of watching Jensen leave.

Almost.

Shewas doing the right thing. Even if he could get over dating a woman who turned a little hairy and toothy once a month, she still had the equally monumental problem of being mated. The two problems together were insurmountable.

You are doing the right thing. Until you are free of this curse, you have to let him go.

She knew it was true. But that didn't make the pain any less crippling.

Brody watched the scene, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. That was his Lizzie. His good girl. The one who always did what was right.

He'd seen her pain, the nearly crushing yearning that had burned deep inside her for the past two days. She'd been half-insane with her desire for that pathetic mortal. But she would have stayed away. His Lizzie was nothing if not strong. She was nothing if not moral.

He paced back and forth, watching her. Wanting her. Not with the same unbridled l.u.s.t she'd felt for the mortal loser. No, he wanted her like he always did, with a selfish need to taint her. To dirty what she was. He knew he was little more than sc.u.m. He was okay with that. He just wanted to make sure he took others down with him. Sc.u.m or not, that made him powerful. That made him the one in control. That's why the pack cast him out. He was a threat. And with Lizzie back at his side, he was a threat with real power.

He considered going to her now. But he'd wait. He didn't want her with that weak mortal's scent still clinging to her skin. But he was relieved that this time the scent-the smell that could have ruined all of his plans-was gone. Not even a hint of the spicy odor drifted through the air.

Maybe he'd imagined it. It wasn't as if it was possible. A werewolf and a human? No, it wasn't possible.

The truck rolled down the dirt road, but Elizabeth didn't move from her hiding spot. Brody watched her. Trying to read her.

Maybe now was the time to approach her. He'd only waited because of what he thought that scent meant. He couldn't take her back to the pack if she was just going to run again. Back to the mortal. But now, he could sense this was the end. There was a hopelessness radiating from her.

But Brody still didn't approach her as she finally stepped out of the woods and crossed her lawn to the house. He'd give her a little time-to mourn her loss. A loss he did not understand.

But never let it be said that he didn't do a nice thing for Lizzie. Of course, he was just giving the situation time, to make sure she didn't crack and go to the human. He wouldn't have the pack seeing that his woman had left, again, and this time for a weak human.

And if she did give in and go back, he'd handle that. He couldn't kill her. But the human-yeah, he could die.

Jensen nodded at his granddad, trying not to look like a teenager busted after curfew as he entered the kitchen and headed straight for the back hall and the stairs. A d.a.m.ned hard thing to do when he was walking into the house at nine A.M. with no shirt on.

"Wait! Where the h.e.l.l have you been?" his grandfather asked.

"Out." Jensen did not want to explain this.

"I know that. Where's your shirt?"

"Gone."

His grandfather frowned, his brows coming together in a nearly straight, if somewhat bushy, line. "You need to be more forthcoming here, Jensen."

"Nothing to tell, Granddad. I need to get in to work."

His grandfather gave him a look that was somewhere between dubious and disappointed.

"When a fella stays out all night and returns home without his shirt, and there's no story in that, then that is one dull man."

Jensen nodded. "That's me. Dull to the core."

His grandfather crossed his arms over his chest, looking for all the world as if he planned to pout.

Jensen glanced at his watch. "Gotta get ready. I don't want to be late."

He left his grandfather indeed pouting, but that was too bad. Jensen had no intention of telling him about his complete failure with the first woman who'd captured his attention since Katie. He couldn't do it. As it was, he just wanted to forget himself.

As luck would have it, Granddad was gone when Jensen had come down from his shower. And although his grandfather's disappearance wasn't unusual, he was probably out on the links griping about his weird grandson to that d.a.m.ned Harold Wilks. Jensen couldn't help feeling a little deserted again.

"Ridiculous," he muttered to himself as he filled his metal travel mug to the brim with black coffee. He hadn't wanted to continue his conversation with his granddad, anyway. Plus, he'd wanted the time to consider what he'd noticed in Elizabeth's barn. Thick chains and heavy manacles anch.o.r.ed to the rafters. He'd seen them when he'd gone in that last time to look for her. What were they? Did she put them up there? And for what purpose?

He had no answers. None that made any sense. But he wasn't making sense, anyway. He was offended that his grandfather disappeared, even though when that's what he'd wanted. But then, disappearing people were a sore spot today.

He grabbed the newspaper, stuffed it under his arm, then picked up his coffee and his laptop and left for the office.

Pulling up to the small building that housed his office, he told himself he needed to concentrate on the vet hospital. He was trying to get the place online, the records put into the computer as well as the appointments. His grandfather had resisted all that, but Jensen knew it would make things easier and more efficient. That was what he needed to focus on-not some woman who had as many issues as he did, and clearly didn't want him.

He walked into the office and was greeted by Molly George, the receptionist who'd been working for his grandfather for nearly twenty years. Molly had a habit of trying to mother him. Jensen supposed that was the risk he'd run being a motherless kid, raised by his granddad. Everyone felt the need to mother him.

"You are late," Molly said, peering at him over the top of her bifocals. "I almost called the hospital."

Jensen smiled, shaking his head. "Always try my cell phone before the hospital."

He pulled his phone out to show her he had it with him. And also to show her what it was. Molly was as

resistant to technology as Granddad.

She raised an eyebrow to that, then looked down at the appointment book. "Luckily your first appointment is late."

As if cued by Molly's comment, the bell on the front door rang as the patient and owner entered. Jensen turned to see Melanie, holding a very fat, very satisfied-looking tabby.

"Hi, Jensen," she said, offering him a warm smile. A smile that he couldn't help noticing still held that hint of interest.

His battered ego perked up at the look.

"Hi there, Melanie." He approached her, reaching out to the cat, scratching his neck and ears. "Who is this?"

"Mort," she said with a fond smile at the animal. "He's in for his shots. And maybe a diet, too."

"He is a big boy," Jensen agreed.

"Well, as I told you, while I do love it here, I tend to be a little lonely. So I think I may dote on him a bit too much."

Jensen nodded at that, picking up on the mention of her being lonely. He didn't comment, however. Instead, he turned to Molly.

"My first patient is in."

"I see that," she said, eyeing Melanie rather than the cat.

Jensen gestured for Melanie to go ahead into the exam room. She did, saying h.e.l.lo to Molly on the way.

"I'll make sure you are not interrupted," Molly called after him as he followed the blonde and her obese cat.

He didn't miss Molly's pointed look as he closed the door.

Was everyone in this town a d.a.m.ned matchmaker?

Melanie set Mort on the table and smiled at Jensen.

He smiled back, noticing her blond ponytail and fresh-faced beauty. In truth, it was hard to imagine she was finding West Pines lonely. She should have lots of dates.

He turned to the counter where all his supplies were stored, as well as a sink and other necessities for a veterinarian's exam room. He got his stethoscope and otoscope, and crossed over to Mort. And Melanie.

She cooed to the cat, helping hold the beast while he checked the cat's ears and eyes. He noticed that Melanie had a nice voice, a little high. Higher than Elizabeth's huskier tone.

He frowned as he continued to examine the cat. He'd told himself he was just going to let Elizabeth go. There was no point thinking about her. The yellow Post-it note said it all. She didn't want to see him again. There was nowhere to go with that. Nowhere. So what was the point of thinking about her? He hardly knew her, anyway.

And in truth, she wasn't his type. He glanced at Melanie, who continued to murmur at her cat. Brian and Jill had been right when they'd asked her to join them that night at the karaoke bar. She was his type.

And now that he was back on the horse, so to speak, then maybe he should consider asking her out.

"Looks good," he told her as he left to go prepare the feline's inoculations, and by the time he'd returned to the room, he'd decided a date with Melanie held a lot of merit.

As he injected the cat with the first of three shots, and the large animal laid back his ears and shot him a look designed to kill, he asked Melanie offhandedly, "I don't suppose you'd be interested in going out this Friday night?"

Elizabeth stood in the middle of her kitchen, trying to remember why she'd come into the room. She kept doing this-headed somewhere with something in mind, but when she got there, she had no idea what she'd been after. It was frustrating-and it was unnerving.

She wandered back to the living room and sat down on the couch. She reached for the TV remote and flipped the set on. Conversation filled the room, followed by an irritating laugh track. She turned the television off.

G.o.d, why couldn't she focus? Why couldn't she seem to think straight at all? She got up and paced the room. She was surprised the wood floor didn't have a path worn into it. She couldn't concentrate on anything. Anything but Jensen.

She hadn't seen him for three days. Every day it grew harder to stay away. But she knew she had to-she couldn't risk shifting around him again. She knew she had to work on her research, too, but she hadn't gotten much of anything done. She was clumsy and distracted, and all she managed to do was make a mess of any of her still-viable cell samples. Now she'd have to wait to draw more blood right before the full moon. That was when the cell definition was most apparent. That was the blood she needed.

So all she did was pace and fixate, but this agitation wasn't like it had been. Her body, while it did miss Jensen, didn't feel like it had a life of its own. Now, she just felt like she... missed him. She wanted to see him and talk to him. And yes, touch him, too. But...

Suddenly the phone rang, the loud jingle in the quiet house actually causing her to jump.

"h.e.l.lo?" she said breathily into the receiver, once she'd managed to calm herself enough to answer it.

"Hey, sis." It was Sebastian.

Elizabeth tamped down the disappointment at hearing her brother's voice. She didn't want it to be

Jensen. She didn't. What good would it do if it was?

"Hi, Sebastian. How are you?"

There was silence on the other end. "Elizabeth, are you all right?"

She probably sounded as frazzled as she felt.

"Sure. I'm fine."

"Okay." He sounded unconvinced. "Well, I was calling to tell you that Mina and I are planning to visit on