"This is the den." He flipped on a light, and stepped back to let her peek inside. She got the vague impression of dark wood, books, and a marble fireplace.

"Nice," she said, her thoughts still on why Jensen had been a zombie. What had happened to him? The idea that something had caused him to stop living, stop being the vivacious, happy person she knew, bothered her deeply.

He led her to the stairs.

"Just ignore the walls here."

"Why?" she asked, then realized the answer. The wall, all the way up the staircase, was scattered with pictures. Mostly of Jensen. From a baby to... a picture that looked like it may have been taken fairly recently. A picture of him with his grandfather, both of them in thigh-high wading boots, holding up a large fish.

But what captured her attention were the pictures of him as a child. She stopped in front of each one, taking in the way his c.o.c.ky smile was already established, even at four years old. Of course, it grew more handsome, more irresistible with each pa.s.sing year.

"Look at you in this one," she exclaimed, leaning in to study a picture of him at about nine years old, dressed in a white lab coat with a surgeon's mask tied around his neck along with a stethoscope, and a plastic toy doctor's bag in his hand.

"Were you already practicing to be a vet?"

Jensen stared at the picture for a moment, then offered her a lopsided smile that, while it contained his usual charm, didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"Yes. Although I think I was already practicing my plan to get all the girls to play doctor."

She turned to face him, c.o.c.king an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. Want to come to my bedroom and play?" He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, his tongue darting out to taste the sensitive skin.

She pulled in a hitched breath, desire zipping through every nerve-ending of her body.

"Jensen," she managed to murmur. "Your granddad."

He lifted his head, listening. "I can hear him in the kitchen." His lips returned to her neck, then moved up to nip her earlobe.

Again another zing of need whizzed through her, and again she breathed out brokenly.

"Come on," he said, his soft words tickling her ear. "I'll show you my bedroom."

She smiled. "You are bad."

"Only with you."

For some reason, his words gave her pause-a feeling she couldn't quite place blotted out some of her desire. Fear, maybe, or worry. Was she making him bad? Was her past somehow affecting him? Making him not act like the person he really was?

Jensen didn't give her much of a chance to consider that idea. He led her right to one of the doorways along the upstairs hallway. Once inside, he closed it soundly behind them and pulled her back into his arms. This time, his lips captured hers fully, the supple softness of them brushing and teasing until she lost all thoughts but opening for him and tasting him back.

"This is my room," he finally murmured against her lips.

"It's nice," she said, her lips curving against him. He kissed her again.

She wasn't even aware that Jensen was walking her backward until her thighs. .h.i.t something and she sat

down on his bed. She laughed up at him, feeling quite naughty herself. He grinned back, then followed her down, his lips tasting her again as his weight pinned her down.

They lay on the bed, kissing, their hands exploring each other over their clothes.

"You know," he said, pulling back to look at her, "this bed has seen a lot less action than the kitchen table."

"Really?" She tried not to laugh. "I'm sorry."

"Well, I was thinking you could rectify that for me."

She gave him a dubious look. "Jensen, your grandfather is right downstairs."

"Yes. But I happen to know that he's going golfing in... " He glanced at the digital alarm clock shaped

like a football on the nightstand. "About ten minutes. So if we are just quiet... "

He started to kiss her again, but this time she placed a hand in the center of his chest to stop him. "I don't know."

He smiled in that way she found utterly irresistible. "I'll make it worth your while."

She laughed. "I have no doubt about that." She couldn't help wiggling against him. G.o.d, he made her so

hot. He truly was the s.e.xiest man she'd ever seen.

He tensed against her wiggle, and she expected him to kiss her again, but instead he pushed off the bed

and headed to the door. He turned the lock, then strode back to where she lay sprawled on the bed.

"There. I think we're safe."

She didn't know about that, and she was still rather embarra.s.sed that Jensen's sweet granddad was

probably very aware of what they were doing up here, but then, he was also aware that she and Jensen had spent the night together. And she didn't think the older man thought they'd just been talking then, either.

He started to crawl back onto the bed, when there was a sharp rap on the newly locked door. Both of them froze, even though they were completely clad, and not even in the process of doing something s.e.xual.

"Jensen?" It was his grandfather.

Jensen glanced at Elizabeth, then climbed off the bed. Elizabeth sat up and straightened her clothes. Jensen smoothed down several tangled locks of her hair, then went to the door.

When he opened it, it was his granddad who looked decidedly awkward. He held out the cordless phone.

"A horse emergency," he explained quietly.

Jensen accepted the phone. "I'll be right back," he told Elizabeth.

She nodded and waved for him to go.

Jensen stepped out of the room, saying h.e.l.lo.

Granddad gave Elizabeth a smile that still looked as if he felt a tad uncomfortable interrupting them.

"Did you want help now with the kitchen?" she asked, hoping to dispel the awkwardness of the moment.

"All done," he a.s.sured her. "I'm actually meeting a friend for golf. Will you be all right waiting for Jensen?"

She nodded. "Absolutely. Have a good time."

He nodded in return. "I'm sure I'll see you later."

"Yes."

After he left, and she heard him climbing down the stairs, she rose from the bed. For the first time, she really looked at Jensen's bedroom, the bedroom that he obviously had during his childhood. And from the looks of it, not much had changed. The walls were covered with pennants from sporting teams. A baseball bat and mitt sat beside his bureau, probably untouched since his high-school days.

She wandered over to the bookcase near the windows, seeing college textbooks mixed in with books he probably read in high school.Heart of Darkness ,Billy Budd ,Collected Works of Shakespeare. The Hardy Boys .

She smiled, imagining him lying in that bed at all of eleven or twelve reading about Joe and Frank Hardy.

She picked up one of the books, flipping the pages, the scent of old paper wafting out from the covers. She put it back.

She strolled around a bit more, then returned to the bed, lounging back against the headboard. She was tired, she realized. But that made sense. She'd gotten very little sleep last night. Both she and Jensen had been insatiable.

She smiled at the memory. He was a talented man.

She glanced at the clock, wondering if it was far too early in the day to sneak a nap. She chuckled aloud at the football clock. Then her gaze dropped, noticing a picture frame placed facedown on the nightstand.

Almost reluctantly, she reached out and picked up the picture. It was Jensen with a pretty blonde. From the look of them, it was probably taken a few years ago. There was a fullness to Jensen's face that was gone now, hinting at his youth.

But it was the blonde that Elizabeth couldn't stop staring at. She was very pretty with long, very pale hair. Her eyes were a guileless sky blue, her smile truly happy. Jensen had his arm around her, but something in their stance spoke of a more intimate connection than the pose showed.

Elizabeth stared at it a moment longer, then put it back the way she'd found it.

She pulled in a deep breath, trying not to think about that picture. Trying not to question why the relatively innocuous photo had shaken her.

She leaned her head back, staring blankly out at the room. Who was that girl? Had she been someone important to Jensen? Obviously, he still had the photo on his nightstand. But why was it facedown?

As she wondered, she noticed something on the top shelf of his bookcase. A book, or rather what appeared to be a photo alb.u.m, pink. Very out of place with all the other books on the shelf.

Even as she told herself not to, she pushed off the bed and walked over to reach for the book.

Chapter 19.

It was a photo alb.u.m, obviously hand-decorated with red hearts and white lace.

She hesitated; again telling herself she should put it back. This was Jensen's private property. But her hands didn't seem willing to listen.

She flipped open the book, her eyes slowly scanning the pictures and the captions and the little decorations added to the pages. She turned another page and another, until she had seen the whole book. And though mainly filled with photos, the book told a very vivid story.

The story of a boy and a girl who had been madly in love. The story of two people who planned to be together forever. Proms, parties. The beach with friends, graduation, heading away to college. And every picture stated one thing very, very clearly.

Jensen had loved the girl who made this book. It was clear in every single picture. There in his dark green eyes. There in that c.o.c.ky smile.

And the girl had loved him just as completely.

Whoever came up with the adages that pictures don't lie and a picture is worth a thousand words had known what they were talking about.

She flipped through the alb.u.m one more time, even though it hurt her. Although it had no right to-she knew that. But it did. She was carefully placing the book back where she'd found it as Jensen walked back into the room. She spun to face him, but he didn't seem to note the guilt in her demeanor.

"Sorry about that. One of my patients has a sick mare. I think I'm going to have to go out to his farm and check the horse out." "Okay," Elizabeth agreed, feeling the need to get away from Jensen for a little while. She felt shaken by those pictures, which she knew was unfair. Of course Jensen had had a life before her. She was being ridiculous.

"Why don't you come with me," Jensen said as he went to the closet and pulled out a large black bag.

That suggestion pulled her from her shaken thoughts. "Oh, I don't think that's a good idea."

"It's fine. I think I know what's wrong with the horse. And if I'm right, it won't take long at all. Then we

can sneak back here and show my poor neglected bed some action."

He grinned at her, a sweet, teasing smile.

"I don't think so."

"Why not? The beauty of being a vet is that my patients don't mind who I bring along with me."

She raised a dubious eyebrow. "You might be surprised."

A werewolf was definitely a guest most animals did mind tagging along. A lot.

"Are you afraid of horses?"