Emery Livingston turned back to the lab table and pretended to arrange the glassware he’d washed earlier.

The main point of the exercise was to keep himself from throwing glassware across the lab, such as it was. He’d been promised a state-of-the-art facility. This place was a joke.

Still, although it wasn’t an ideal work environment by any means, it was better than the kitchen of his apartment in DC.

The facility was in a converted stable, provided by a guy Emery had met in a bar in Georgetown. He’d been drinking there, trying to decompress after a long day working for FedEx. Driving a truck and running to people’s houses with packages was hard work, but it had only been a temporary gig while he’d been saving up to get more supplies for the drug he was developing. Too bad he’d started blabbing about his plans to someone he’d barely known.

His new acquaintance had listened with interest, then begun making suggestions. He was a smooth talker. He’d persuaded Emery that he could give him a place to live and work while he finished the development phase. No more driving a truck during the day. The downside was splitting the profits, but Emery figured there would be plenty of dough to go around once he had sufficient product.

It was a mild hallucinogen which also increased sexual desire—a nice combination as far as Emery was concerned. If he could just get it to a reliable stability, it would be worth millions. There was nothing like it on the street, and he was sure the young and hip would appreciate the high—although he hadn’t quite figured out how to insure the results. Too bad the problems didn’t keep the men here from pilfering some of the product for their recreational use.

Mr. Big kept pushing for him to say he was ready for prime time. And he kept explaining that he needed better quality assurance.

But the pressure to distribute was only part of the problem. The hired help out here was so off the wall that he never knew what was going to happen.

Like yesterday afternoon when he’d come back with a bunch of supplies he’d needed—Ephedra sinica leaves from Asia and Mongolia, which he could get legally from Chinese herbal medicine shops. It was his processing and additions that made the difference.

While he’d been gone, some guy had wandered into the compound and . . .

Emery wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. The men had all been high when he’d gotten back, and he was praying the incident wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

He clenched his teeth and went back to work, taking the leaves out of the blender, then transferring them to a glass flask with water. He was in a hurry to finish now—and get the hell back to civilization.

“More of your magic potion?” a voice said in back of him, making him jump. It was the guy named Lane, who had poked his head into the lab unannounced.

He nodded, pretending to be deep in concentration as he kept his eyes on the flask. He hated having these lowlifes wander in and out of his lab. And he’d been nervous about leaving them on their own while he went into the city. But he hadn’t been confident that any of them could return with the needed ingredient—even with the name written down.

The boss was at least literate. But the rest of them seemed like a half-assed crew of local recruits. He shuddered, finally unable to stop himself from focusing on what they’d done while he was away.

He’d come back to find them all jabbering about a little experiment with the interloper. They’d had the bright idea of testing the vaporized version of the drug on the man. Or was the fellow Kyle had brought in a man?

Emery shuddered.

According to the eyewitnesses, when they opened the door to the shed, the guy turned into a wolf and hightailed it into the woods.

Someone had shot at him, but he’d kept running. So maybe Emery wasn’t involved in a murder.

He was tempted to say he’d forgotten another major ingredient and needed to go on a second buying trip—from which he would never return.

On the other hand, if he bailed, he’d be out some of his own money, plus the time he’d spent up here in the damn isolated location working on the drug. And he was sure the product was going to make a boatload of money—if he just had a little more time for development to stabilize his secret ingredient.

###

Maggie took in the disgusted expression on Knox’s face.

“I went off again, didn’t I?” he asked, sounding like he was accusing himself of murder.

“It’s okay.”

When he turned his head away, she took the opportunity to hook her bra and pull down her sweatshirt.

“Sorry,” he said in a gritty voice. “Did I just make up some crap about sex magic?”

“It’s all right.”

“I told you I was dangerous.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Dangerous would have been trying to hurt me.”

He flopped to his back and closed his eyes. “I guess I was attracted to you from the first. Clever of me to make up a reason to . . .”

“To get close to me,” she finished.

He still lay with his eyes closed, and she reached for his hand and folded her finger around his. She should be embarrassed, she knew. And maybe angry. But his remorse made it difficult for her to feel either one of those emotions.

When he didn’t move or speak, she whispered, “I liked it.”

“But you don’t know a damn thing about me,” he answered, his voice barely under control.

“Unless you’re lying, I know you’re a detective who was investigating a drug-making operation.”

“A detective who stumbled onto a drug-making operation and should have called for backup.”

“Okay that was a mistake.”

“Apparently.”

“I know you’re an honorable man.”

He made a snorting sound.

“Otherwise, you wouldn’t be feeling bad about giving me a very pleasurable experience.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “Did you really read about sex magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I read about all kinds of magic and fantasy. The occult always interested me.”

“Why?”

He waited a few beats before saying, “I found a library book—about a kid who could talk to animals. It fascinated me, and I kept looking for similar stuff. One was about King Arthur and Merlin when Arthur was a boy.”

Was that the whole truth? Instead of pressing him on the point, she said, “I think I read that too! The Sword In the Stone, by T. H. White?”

“Yeah.”

“Arthur gets to be a bunch of different animals.”

He kept his gaze on her. “What did you think about that?”

“I wished I could do it.”

A mixture of emotions crossed his features before he said, “We’re getting off the subject of my current fantasy.”

“The important thing is that I’m okay with it. Of course, you don’t know much about me either. I could be the kind of woman who hops into bed with a different guy every night.”

“I don’t think so,” he answered quickly. It’s not the Girl Scout way.”

She laughed, then rolled toward him, slinging her arm across his chest and pressing her face against his shoulder. “You’re a very compelling man.”

“I know.”

“And modest, too.”

“I don’t have any trouble . . . connecting with women.”

“Are you bragging?”

“No. I guess I want you to know that I don’t have to invent reasons to get close to anyone.”

She could understand that.

They were very close now.

###

For long moments neither of them spoke, but a whole bundle of thoughts whirled through Knox’s head. About himself. About her. About the two of them. Usually he had no problem dealing with silence, but now he filled it with a question. “If we were speed dating, what else should I know about you?”

She took a moment before answering, and he thought she might be wondering how much to reveal. “I come from a family where guys were valued more than women. My parents favored my brother, and I was always working hard to prove I was just as good. I went to nursing school, partly because women aren’t supposed to be doctors. I have a stable job. My brother flits in and out of crazy schemes. My dad has bailed him out of bankruptcy a couple of times.”

He turned to face her. “That’s what you think is important?”

She raised one shoulder. “I guess I wanted you to know I have stuff in my background that’s not . . .” She paused for a moment. “Admirable.”

“You’re admirable,” he said quickly.

“I try to be honest—and pay my own way.”

“And you care about helping people.”

“Yes.”

He dragged in a breath and let it out. Before he could change his mind, he said, “I’m the new guy at Decorah Security. I think I was trying to prove I could bring in something big on my own. And I got caught.”

“You’ll be able to tell them when you get back.”

“I hope so.”

“What did you do before you joined Decorah?”

“A bunch of dead-end jobs. I worked in a warehouse. I drove a delivery truck. I mucked out cages at a little zoo and daydreamed about letting the animals go free. But that would have been bad for them—like the kid in the book. They probably would have been shot.”

With perhaps too much insight, she asked. “Did you try to talk to them—like the kid in the book?”

“Yeah. That particular fantasy didn’t work for me.”

“You didn’t want any kind of career?”

He dragged in a breath and let it out. “My parents didn’t believe in spending money on their kids’ college education. I was pretty much on my own.” Maybe he was revealing too much when he said, “I didn’t get along with my dad. I wanted to get the hell out of the house. That was my main goal. Then I had to support myself.”

“How did you end up at Decorah?”

“My cousin worked there. He thought I’d fit in.” He shook his head. “I was fitting in. Until I screwed up.”

She raised up to look him in the eye. “You didn’t screw up.”

“What would you call it?”

“Bad luck.”

He snorted. “Bad judgment.”

“Stop beating yourself up.”

She could have moved away from him, but she stayed where she was.

It was strange how close he felt to her—closer than to any other woman he’d met. And yeah, convenient that his delusional mind had come up with an intimate idea to “save” them from aliens.

“Why are you still lying next to me?” he asked

“Because I want to.”

She moved closer, laying her head back on his shoulder as she stroked her hand across his chest, making his nipples bead. He’d brought her to climax not so long ago, and touching her had aroused him powerfully. He’d cooled himself down. Suddenly he was back where he’d been a half hour earlier. Hot as hell and hard as an iron bar.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’re turning me on.”

She laughed. “I can see.”

He had been caught in the grip of a hallucination a while ago. Now he was entirely himself. Or was he? Something was happening between them—something he couldn’t name.

He wanted this woman more than any female he had ever wanted in his life. And whatever his strong feelings meant, it seemed that she shared them.

Their eyes locked as he rolled toward her and eased her to her back. That silent exchange was like electricity crackling between them. With a growl deep in his throat, he leaned down to cover her mouth with his.

Heat leaped inside his body, and he felt her make a small gasping sound as though his arousal had been transmitted directly from him to her.

“Lord,” she whispered. “I can feel that.”

“What, exactly?”

“Something between us I never imagined was possible.”

“Uh huh,” he answered, speaking against her mouth. He had never imagined this.

He had turned her on—turned both of them on not long ago. Now just his lips on hers were sending flames through his being. But he wasn’t going to rush this. It was too good to rush.

He raised his head, staring down at her.

She slipped away from him, and he felt an awful hollow open in his chest when he thought she had changed her mind.

But she was only sitting up so she could pull her shirt over her head and unhook her bra. She kept her gaze on him as she tossed both garments to the side of the sleeping bag.

His breath caught as he looked at her. Her breasts were not large, but he loved their rounded shape and the way her nipples stood to attention.

“You are lovely.”

“You make me feel that way.”

He sat up and reached out, cupping both breasts in his hands, feeling their weight and their softness. In his sex magic fantasy he had been too frantic to fully enjoy what he was doing. Now he caressed her, finding her nipples with his thumbs, playing across them, drawing a moan from her.

He pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it aside so that he could take her in his arms, moving her breasts against his naked chest.

The way her nipples stroked his skin was exquisite.

She tugged at her jeans, pulling them down along with her panties and sending them to join the rest of her clothing.

Naked, she lay down again, spreading herself before him like an offering. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in her creamy skin, her rosy nipples, the curve of her hip, the thatch of hair at the juncture of her legs. Some women shaved there. He had never understood what they liked about it.

Reaching out, he winnowed his fingers through that crinkly thatch, drawing a satisfied sigh from her.

“I want to see you,” she whispered.

“You already did.”

“I want to see you hard and ready to make love to me.”

The words zinged along his nerve endings. “God, yes.”

He thanked his luck that he was wearing sweatpants. As he pulled them down, his cock sprang free, full and hard and ready for her as she had asked.

She reached out, catching the bead of moisture at the tip and stroking it over the head and down his length. Just the touch of her one finger was almost enough to tip him over the edge.

“I’m too hot to take much of that.”

Her hand dropped away. “I want that inside me.”

“When you’re as hot as I am.”

Part of his mind still marveled that this was happening. And part of him knew that the two of them had been meant for each other since the beginning of time. In werewolf terms, he understood what that should signify. He had found his lifemate. But that was something he hadn’t expected to experience yet—not when he wasn’t yet thirty.

Caught in a fog of need and wonder, he eased down beside her. His hands teasing her breasts.

“I want to feel your teeth there.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Why?”

Her answer was high and breathy. “There’s something about you that makes it seem . . . necessary.”

The words and the implications were almost too much to bear. Had she accepted the wolf—even when she didn’t know he was part of Knox Marshall?

He leaned over, wedging one distended nipple carefully between his teeth, slowly exerting pressure, looking up so that he could watch her face.

“Oh,” she gasped out. “That’s good. So good.”

He took her other nipple between his thumb and index finger, squeezing and twisting it as he switched from teeth to strong sucking with his lips.

She moaned, her head moving on the sleeping bag as he reached down to find the core of her.

She was hot and slippery and aroused, and as his finger stroked up to her clit and downward into her vagina, she raised her hips and cried out.

“Don’t make me come like that again. I want your penis inside me.”

He covered her body with his, slipping inside her, calling out as he felt her tight sheath clasp him.

To keep from climaxing right them, he had to go stock-still, his body suspended above her.

But she forced the issue, her hips rising up, then falling back so that he had no choice but to follow where she led.

The moment was too powerful to last. She moaned beneath him, her body convulsing around his as they both came in a burst of sensation stronger than he had ever experienced.

When he collapsed on top of her, they both lay breathing hard.

Rolling to his side, he took her with him, still overcome by the enormity of what had happened to him—to them.

She stroked her fingers across his sweat-slick chest.

“I didn’t know it could be that good,” she whispered.

“Because we’ve found something . . . special together,” he answered.

He wanted to explain to her that they must have bonded, but he couldn’t find the words—not yet. And he wasn’t going to rush into telling her she’d just made love with a werewolf. Yet he knew he would have to reveal his true self to her—soon.

He wanted to cling to this time together with her, yet he had to get back to Decorah and tell them about the drug lab.

But not yet.

They lay on the open sleeping bag, both of them almost too worn out to move. But he loved simply being next to her. When he found her hand, she turned it over and knitted her fingers with his, holding on to him as they drifted on the afterglow of extraordinary lovemaking.

“You should sleep,” she murmured.

“I should keep watch.”

“Why?”

“No telling how far we are from that lab.”

“I think we’re okay. I haven’t seen anyone else since I got here. Only you.”

He allowed her to lull him as he fought drowsiness. The ordeal of the day before had taken a lot out of him. He fought sleep, and maybe he even drifted off for a few minutes. Then his hand jerked from her grasp when his wolf’s ears picked up a sound from outside. “Someone’s coming.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“You will.”

He saw the moment when she became aware of the sound. He heard someone fooling with the camping equipment she’d left outside.

Knox didn’t know who it was, but he wasn’t going be caught naked in here. He was reaching for his pants when a voice called out, “Maggie, is that you?”

He raised up, keeping his head to the side as he looked out the mesh window of the tent and saw a man approaching the campsite. Two more men hung back on the other side of the fire pit.

It was three of the bastards from the drug operation. One was Kyle, the weasel- faced, greasy-haired lowlife who had first captured him. Another was the guy named Lane who had seemed to be in charge. And the third was the man who had stayed in the background and let the others do the talking before marching Knox to the shed. He was the fellow who had just spoken now.

A shiver traveled over Knox’s skin. “He called you by name. You know him?”

“Of course. It’s my brother, Campbell.”