"I'm... " She shook her head. "I'm just crazy about you."

She sighed, like saying those words had been so hard for her. And maybe they had. He could

understand that. There was something between them that was confusing and overwhelming and... He leaned in and kissed her. This time the gesture wasn't quick, but slow and thorough and filled with everything he was feeling. He stopped long enough to take her coffee cup and place it on the floor beside his. Then his hands were back on her, caressing her. His lips found hers again.

She moaned and arced into him. Their lips played over each other's, velvety-soft skin creating a gentle friction that ignited Jensen's desire as sure as flint against steel. He pulled her closer until she was halfway onto his lap. The swing squeaked under them and shimmied under the sudden movement. He touched the bare skin of her shoulders, her smooth flesh cool from the night air. "Are you too cold?" he murmured against her lips. She lifted her head, her eyes wide. "Are you kidding?" He chuckled, then kissed her again. She tugged at his tie, loosening the knotted material; then her fingers moved to the b.u.t.tons, working them until her hands were stroking over his chest. His lips moved from her lips to her throat, then to the creamy skin exposed by the vee neck of her dress.

Her hands continued to touch him as he explored the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with his lips and his tongue.

Quickly their exploring grew more frantic, until both of them were panting, their movements jerky and excited.

"Stand up," he muttered roughly, the command gruffer than he intended.

She didn't seem to notice. She simply did as he asked.

Jensen reached for the fluttering material of her skirt, lifting it so he could see her hose and the small, lacy panties underneath. His fingers moved to them, slowly rolling them down her long legs, until she was bared to his touch. He stroked her. Feeling her heat, her moisture. Then he pulled her onto him, so she straddled him.

"I'll take my time next time," he told her in between kissing her lips. She nodded, seeming to share the same need.

Her finger went to his belt, then his pants. Soon he was freed, and she positioned him to enter her.

But once he was deep inside her, neither of them felt the need to hurry. They rocked together, their bodies undulating, their eyes locked as they watched each other.

A slow swing into total bliss. And Jensen knew he was lost. He loved this woman.

She lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes holding his. And for a second, he nearly said the words aloud, but then her gaze broke from his, her pale eyes wide as she stared out at the darkened lawn.

"What?" He followed her stare, his eyes finally adjusting to see what she saw.

"We have an audience."

He nodded. "Why, yes, we do."

They both watched as two deer moved farther onto the lawn. Munching on bits of still-green gra.s.s, watching them back.

"Maybe we should go inside," he suggested.

"Yes," she agreed, scrambling off his lap. "I suddenly feel like dinner theater."

Jensen laughed. "Yes, and what I have in mind next is for your eyes only."

She grinned in return, but her eyes returned to the deer. Jensen got the feeling the sight shook her a little, and he wondered why.

Brody paced back and forth at the edge of the woods, watching the couple as they rose, not even bothering to adjust their clothing, and disappear inside. The two deer that had wandered onto the large lawn remained stock-still, except for their ears. He growled low in his throat, his teeth gnashing, and they took off across the lawn in the opposite direction.

Those stupid animals had some sense, unlike Lizzie and her mortal, Brody thought.

He was going to kill them both. The animal in him demanded that kind of revenge for what that mortal had done to his mate.

He stopped his pacing, to stare at the house and to rest. The shot that old man had taken at him had hit almost dead-on. Even now, he knew the bullet was still lodged under his ribcage. It had come dangerously close to his heart. He didn't need a doctor to tell him that. And it still hurt like h.e.l.l. That old b.a.s.t.a.r.d was going to die, too. Slowly.

He eased down into a position like the Sphinx, his paws out in front of him, his pose upright. This pose didn't ease the pain much, but it was better than the pacing. And he had to give himself time to heal a little. Staying in his wolf form would help him heal. For some reason, the werewolf form healed much faster than the human.

He growled again. See, even the human form of a werewolf was weaker. And full humans were weaker still. That lowly mortal who Lizzie had mated with was going to be d.a.m.ned easy to kill.

He just needed to heal more before he tried. He couldn't risk Lizzie discovering him and going into her werewolf form. Brody was the far stronger wolf, but wounded like he was, Lizzie might have a fighting chance. And he wasn't risking it. He wanted to see that human torn to shreds. And he wanted Lizzie to see it happen. Then she would know better than to go looking for a mate elsewhere. But then he was going to kill her, too. Unless she agreed to his terms. All of them.

He ducked his head, trying to lick the place where the bullet had entered him, but he couldn't reach it. Being able to tend it would also make it heal quicker. But for now, it appeared he'd just have to be patient.

And there was no reason not to be. The deed was already done. Nothing that happened between Lizzie and her mortal tonight would add to that.

Oh, she was going to pay for every indiscretion. But he did need her. She was his only chance to get back into the pack. As much as he hated it, he needed her.

"Hmm," Granddad said, looking up from his crossword puzzle. "I didn't think you'd both be showing up for brunch. I sort of thought one of you would already be here to actually help me."

Jensen smiled at his granddad, knowing the old man was probably thrilled he hadn't come home last night, old matchmaker that he was.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, blushed to a brilliant shade of red.

Jensen pulled her tight to his side, charmed and amazed that this woman could be the wild lover she'd been last night and then be so easily embarra.s.sed this morning. He loved how mercurial she was. It fascinated him.

"I can help you," she said, trying to pull out of his embrace to go to the counter already laden with the makings of a huge meal. "Nonsense," Granddad said adamantly. "You are the guest. Jensen can help me. I've taught him how to cook with the best of them." Elizabeth looked like she wanted to argue, but then she admitted, "It might be best if I do stay out of the way. I'm a pretty horrible cook. Which is strange, because I love to eat." Jensen smiled. Most women wouldn't admit that. And he'd seen Elizabeth's appet.i.te-she did like food. Her admission caught Granddad's attention for a different reason, however. "Do you want a lesson?" Elizabeth's eyes widened at the prospect. "You would be willing to show me?" "Sure. Nothing to cooking, really." "That's not true," Elizabeth said with a frown. "Cooking is a real talent. I try, but I'm a disaster." "Well, you haven't tasted my cooking," Granddad pointed out. "I might be, too." "But I have tasted Jensen's, and if you taught him what he knows, you've got to be quite a chef." "Jensen, you got yourself a beauty and a charmer in this one." Granddad nodded his approval, then directed Elizabeth over to the counter. Deciding his granddad had just stolen his woman, at least for a while, he settled down at the table to read the newspaper. Which turned out to be impossible. The interaction between his grandfather and Elizabeth was far too entertaining. "Just break it into here?" Elizabeth held an egg as if she thought it might spontaneously explode in her hand. She waved it gently in the direction of a mixing bowl. "Yes. Right in there." She hesitated, then tapped the sh.e.l.l delicately on the rim. The egg barely cracked. She tapped it again, this time with more force and the egg cracked totally, bits of sh.e.l.l going into the bowl with the yolk and white.

"Oh no," she said, sounding so endearingly disheartened that Jensen had to smile.

"Not a problem," Granddad said, his tone kind, just like he'd been with Jensen all through his childhood.

Granddad showed her how to pick out the sh.e.l.ls and had her break another egg and another until Elizabeth could crack an egg like a pro.

Elizabeth smiled at Jensen as if she'd conquered the world. Jensen couldn't help but grin back. He suddenly saw her right here every morning. The image should have scared him, but it simply felt-right.

Before long, Elizabeth was serving platters of pancakes and omelets and bacon.

"This looks great. I would say you're a natural." Jensen snagged a piece of bacon off the plate.

"Who knew?" she said with another triumphant grin.

She waited until Granddad joined them before she sat down.

Granddad pa.s.sed Elizabeth the platter of pancakes. "Go ahead-taste how good your cooking is."

She smiled and plunged a fork into the golden cakes, scooping up two. She added them to her plate,

then moved to take some of the omelet and then some of the bacon. She topped all of that off with some hash browns.

Jensen watched her add a generous amount of real maple syrup to the pancakes.

She paused as she saw him watching her. Her cheeks colored a rosy pink as she self-consciously set the syrup down.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I don't know how to cook, but I know how to eat."

Jensen's smile broadened even more. He really did find it refreshing to hear a woman say that. But

rather than tell her that, he reached for the bottle of amber syrup.

"I like to eat, too."

He doused his own pancakes with nearly as much as she'd used. Then he dug in, trying to show her that

he had no problem with her eating habits.

She picked up her fork, toying briefly with the crispy edge of the pancake. Then she cut into it, scooping a small portion into her mouth. Her eyes closed with appreciation as she slowly chewed the food.

"Good, huh?" Granddad said, a slight curve to his lips as he also watched her. He looked nearly as

entranced as Jensen.

She opened her eyes and nodded. "Delicious."

"And you made them."

"With your help," she pointed out.

Granddad shrugged. "I just directed, you did the work." He took a bite of the omelet. "And you did a

d.a.m.ned fine job."

Her smile broadened, but then she was lost to the lure of her food.

The conversation was easy and natural as they demolished the brunch, all of them doing their fair share

to clean the plates.

Granddad leaned back, tossing his napkin onto the table. "I bet that is the most action this table has seen in years." Jensen nearly choked on a sip of coffee. Elizabeth shifted, again toying with her silverware and making no eye contact.

Granddad straightened, his far-too-observant gaze straying from Jensen to Elizabeth, then back to Jensen. He remained silent for a moment, obviously trying to decipher what had changed the comfortable atmosphere of the room. Finally he stood.

"Jensen, you haven't showed Elizabeth around the house. Why don't you do that, while I clean up."

"I'll clean up," Jensen said. "You and Elizabeth cooked. I'll do the dishes."

Granddad shook his head. "Nope. I've got it. You two go find something fun to do."

Jensen considered arguing further, but the set of his grandfather's jaw told him it would be wasted breath. He turned to Elizabeth. "Would you like to see the house?"

Elizabeth was sure that her face was still bright red from his grandfather's table comment. She'd wanted to crawl under the table as images of what she and Jensen had done on that table flashed through her mind. She knew from Jensen's startled look that his mind had gone in the exact same direction.

Fortunately, Jensen's lovely grandfather had sensed the sudden tension and had given them an out.

"I'd love to see the rest of the house," she said, managing to keep her voice even. Although she was starting to feel like, when things went well, something always happened to remind her of what she was.

Of who she was. She just didn't know how this could work.

Jensen stood and waited for her to rise as well. Then he steered her toward the kitchen door.

Elizabeth stopped and glanced at the older man. "Are you sure you don't want some help?"

He shook his head, already rinsing bowls and placing them in the dishwasher. "I've got it. You two go."

She nodded. "Thank you for the cooking lesson."

"Thank you for getting my grandson to stop acting like a zombie."

At that comment, Jensen caught her fingers and tugged her from the room.

She followed, but her mind was on that last comment.

"This is the living room, which I think you saw briefly the night you came over here."

"Why were you acting like a zombie?"

Jensen laughed slightly, but the sound seemed strained to her ears. "My granddad has a strange sense of humor."

Elizabeth hadn't found his sense of humor odd. And the comment hadn't been said as a joke. But it didn't appear that she was going to get an answer from Jensen.