finish up a riveting story about his last fishing trip with his buddy, Joe.

Finally, when the story drew to an end, with no discernable point, Jensen jumped in to grab her away.

"Please excuse me, Mr. Turner," she said with another of her lovely smiles. Old Bob looked totally

smitten.

"Elizabeth, this is my grandfather, Charles Adler."

Granddad offered her a hand. "Oh, just call me Granddad."

Elizabeth beamed at him. "Hi, Granddad. It's wonderful to meet you. Your grandson had told me all

about you."

"Is that so," Granddad said, giving Jensen a pointed look that meant that might have not been a good thing. "He hasn't told me very much about you. But that's my grandson. Too d.a.m.ned secretive." Elizabeth's smiled slipped ever so slightly, and Jensen immediately wondered if she was hurt that he hadn't mentioned her. But before he could decide, her smile returned, wide and beautiful. "Well, we haven't known each other that long." Jensen realized her words were true, but given what they had shared, it seemed far longer than a handful of days. "So, you will come over to our house tomorrow morning. I make a mean brunch." Elizabeth grinned at Granddad, then glanced at Jensen to read how he felt about the idea. He nodded. "I'd love to," she said. "You know, Granddad, it is customary to invite a person you just met. Not order her." "Not if you are d.a.m.ned intent on having that person where you want them," Elizabeth pointed out. "See?" Granddad said with a smug waggle of his grayed brows. Elizabeth laughed at the older man, obviously as delighted by him as he was with her. Definitely a good thing, Jensen decided. It was good to have the people he cared about like each other.

He glanced at Elizabeth. He did care about her. A lot. Again, the handful of days thing just didn't seem to matter. He knew what he felt. "Now, if you two youngsters will excuse me, I have a dance saved for me by Heddy. I believe I will go claim it."

Elizabeth waved as Granddad beelined to his lady friend.

"He doesn't seem confused," Elizabeth said.

"No. He doesn't," Jensen agreed. "The thing is, he hasn't-until last night."

"Maybe... Maybe he wasn't last night, either." Elizabeth seemed reluctant to say that for fear he might think she was mad, too.

"Why? Have you seen anything around your place?"

She shook her head. "No. But... "

She shrugged, although the gesture seemed more like she didn't want to say something rather than she didn't know what to say.

"I just hope he's okay," she said finally.

Again he got the feeling there was more she wanted to say, but instead she turned to watch the couples dancing in the next room.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked as he saw her expression become almost wistful.

The wistfulness turned to eagerness in the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat.

"I haven't danced for years."

"Well, neither have I, so let's go figure out how again."

She glanced back at the dance floor, then nodded.

They stepped out among the twirling couples, taking hold of each other much like awkward teenagers at a high-school dance.

After a few graceless turns, he pulled back slightly. "This isn't going to work."

Elizabeth's face fell. "You don't like it?"

"Oh, I like dancing with you, but I don't want to hold you like this." He pulled her closer, still cradling her hand in his, but he brought her close enough that they touched chest to thigh, and he slid his other hand down until it was pressed to the small of her back, just above the subtle curve of her bottom.

"Thatis better," Elizabeth agreed as she rested her head on his shoulder and allowed him to lead.

"I've never danced like this," she murmured, her warm breath touching the skin of his throat.

Nor had he. Dancing had never aroused him like this, that was for sure.

"My brothers would have had me sent to the abbey if they'd seen me this close to a man at a party."

Jensen found the comment a tad odd in a way he couldn't quite pinpoint. Abbey? Maybe that was a British thing-she had said that was where she was raised.

"Well, hopefully they won't take the same measures they did last night."

She immediately lifted her head and the hand that she had resting on his shoulder, moving it downward, stroking over his back.

"Are you still hurting?"

He shook his head. "Nah, it takes more than a couple of brawny brothers to injure me."

He didn't even want to think about what his back looked like now. This morning it had been several interesting shades of blue and purple.

"Well, they are more than that," she muttered, then seemed to realize she'd said the words aloud.

He started to ask what she meant, when the hand that was carefully exploring his back sank lower still, rubbing the indentation of his spine, just above the top of his pants.

He pulled in a steadying breath. Who even knew that was an erogenous zone? But then again, anywhere Elizabeth touched seemed to be pretty d.a.m.ned erogenous.

"Maybe we should go outside for a moment," he suggested, realizing his black dress pants were suddenly feeling quite snug. He had images of one of his clients coming up to discuss their beloved pet with his anatomy and trousers doing a fair impersonation of a pup tent.

When she gave him a curious look, he moved his pelvis just a bit closer so she could feel him, hard and ready.

Her eyes widened, but then a naughty smile turned up her lips. "I think you do need some air. Cold air."

"Very cold air," he agreed.

Linking hands, they strolled toward the door off the dance floor, which led to the veranda at the back of the inn. But he didn't stop there. Instead, he headed off the porch toward the lake.

Once on one of the little paths, with the lake in view, Jensen stopped and pulled Elizabeth back against him.

"I don't think this is going to solve your problem," she pointed out, even as she rubbed against him.

"Nope," he agreed readily and captured her mouth.

She moaned as his tongue parted her lips and brushed teasingly against hers. His hands roamed down over her, loving the way her slight curves felt under the silky material of her dress.

"This is where I'm pretty sure that I'm being brought to the garden to be ruined."

Ruineddidn't really describe what he wanted to do to her, but he couldn't stop kissing the curve of her jaw and the arch of her neck to ask her about the curious wording.

From her small, panting breaths and the way her body arced and wiggled against his, she didn't seem inclined to think it was a bad thing, either. His hands caught the rounded globes of her bottom, and he pulled her up tighter to his body. Then, suddenly, Elizabeth froze, her body going absolutely rigid in his arms. Jensen lifted his head, expecting someone to be there with them, but as he looked around, he saw no one. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning down at her shadowed features. "Did you hear that?" He listened, then shook his head. "No." She remained silent, and then in the distance he heard a faint howl. Long and eerie, but far away. "It's a dog." Elizabeth remained absolutely still. Again, a howl sounded-the sound echoing as if it were miles away. "I-I want to go in." She pulled out of his arms and hurried back toward the inn.

"Okay," he said, confused, to her retreating back. But once inside, she seemed to calm immediately, making him wonder if she had a phobia of dogs or something. But again he did think of his grandfather's claim of seeing that black wolf. And as the paper stated, Granddad wasn't alone. h.e.l.l, Jensen half-thought he might have seen one, too. His gaze returned to Elizabeth.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, bobbing her head almost too adamantly. "I guess I got a little nervous."

"About the howling or about us getting caught out there?"

"Getting caught," she said, but he felt as if she was just grabbing on to that choice. Maybe she was afraid

of dogs, and unwilling to tell him.

"Do you want a drink?"

She nodded. "Just water."

He left her, heading to the bar with the intent to get right back to her. She had truly been shaken out

there. He wasn't sure if it was the dog barking or if it had been something else.

"I didn't think you were here," a familiar voice said from behind him. Jensen turned to see Brian, shifting uncomfortably in his navy blue suit.

"Hey. Yeah. You know I had to come. Where's Jill?"

"With Melanie." There was no doubt from the way Brian said the words that he'd already heard all the dirty details of his less-than-ill.u.s.trious date with Melanie.

But even knowing that his friend knew, he had no idea what to say.

"So did you bring the other woman?"

The other woman. He didn't like that. Elizabeth was not theother woman. She was the only woman. And he didn't want her somehow judged for his behavior.

Jensen only nodded, though, and gestured to Elizabeth where she leaned against the wall, watching the party, looking distinctly uncomfortable. It was almost impossible to believe that earlier, she'd appeared to be the belle of the ball. Now she looked like she just wanted to leave.

"Wow, I wouldn't have pegged her as the one you'd be here with."

Jensen frowned at his friend. "What do you mean?"

"She's just a lot different, that's all. Not to say she isn't gorgeous."

Jensen bristled slightly. He wasn't sure what his friend was trying to say-all he knew was he didn't like it. And he didn't like the way his friend was regarding her, either. Brian's eyes seemed to be roaming over her slowly, taking in every detail. And the details were many. Like the fit of her simple black dress, the way the waistband nipped in to show the subtle flare of her hips. And how the neckline came to a deep vee between her rounded b.r.e.a.s.t.s, hinting at her cleavage but still intriguingly modest.

"You know," Brian said slowly, his eyes narrowing, "I think she was the woman from the karaoke bar that night who threw a guy away from her."

Whatever comment Jensen had expected his friend to make, that wasn't it.

"Elizabeth?" Jensen had forgotten about that. Or rather hadn't thought about it. But she was strong. He knew that. And hadn't Brian said she growled? Jensen had forgotten the strange growls he'd heard that night, before the weirdness and her fever.

Brian nodded, giving his friend a rather astounded look. "That woman is one tough cookie."

Jensen turned back to look at Elizabeth. He knew she was a tough cookie, and he did remember-very vividly, in fact-what she'd looked like in her leather pants and jacket. But now, in her cla.s.sic and elegant c.o.c.ktail dress with her often heartbreaking eyes and timid smiles, he had a hard time relating her to the woman at the bar that night.

"Are you sure it was her?" Hadn't he considered it might be her, too? The description had fit. Yet, he was still surprised to hear it again. Somewhere along the way, he'd even forgotten Brian's story. He couldn't connect the woman he knew to that image.

Brian nodded. "Definitely. I remember those eyes."

Jensen looked in her direction again and saw her watching them. She glanced away when she saw him looking. Another thing the woman from the bar wouldn't have done. The change was curious, and Jensen realized he was no less intrigued.

In fact, he was more so.

"Brian, would you excuse me?"

Brian nodded. Jensen headed to the bar and asked the server for an ice water. Then he hurried back to Elizabeth.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." She accepted the gla.s.s, taking a sip. "How was your friend?" She sounded casual, but Jensen got the impression there was more to the nonchalantly stated question.

"He was fine. I should have introduced you."

She nodded. "Is he married to the woman who sang at the bar? The brunette?"

He nodded. "Yes, Jill. We actually grew up together."

"He was surprised you were here with me, wasn't he?"

Jensen considered lying outright, but he got the feeling she would know if he did. So instead he asked, "Why do you think that?"

"It was pretty evident on his face."