“Oh, God,” Quinn said when she entered the kitchen where Monica sat at the center island eating a ham and pineapple sandwich. Her orgasm and her anger had made her hungry, but she wasn’t up to facing twenty questions with her astute and almost psychic sister. Monica always seemed to know when something was going on with Quinn.

Monica calmly got a plate from the cupboard and slid it across toward Quinn. She pushed the carved ham and grilled pineapple slices over next. “Honey mustard?”

Quinn pursed her lips and nodded grimly. “Of course.”

Monica opened the fridge and pulled out the jar. It was a homemade recipe. Her sister’s specialty. Monica grabbed a butter knife from the silverware drawer and set it down next to the jar, then she took a seat in front of her plate.

“So,” she said when Quinn began to build her sandwich. “Luke, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Quinn avoided eye contact with her sister as she opened the jar and dressed her bread with the thick spicy, sweet mustard.

“Oh, Luke. Yes, yes,” Monica panted. “Yes!”

Quinn’s eyes widened. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah, I think you threw in a couple of those as well.” Monica smirked. “Hot stuff, sis.”

“How did you… Oh crap.” She’d forgotten that the ceiling vents in the kitchen ran just below the hidden room. Had Monica heard the last part? After the orgasm when Luke revealed his true self? “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’ve chosen our new chief. Wowza, he’s a dirty talker. It almost embarrassed me enough to quit listening.” Monica grinned now. “Almost. I would have stayed for the grand finale, but mom wanted me to try on the satin shoes she had dyed for us. She is losing her ever-loving marbles. By the time I got back here, all had gone silent.” Her sister shrugged, mischief heavy in her dark eyes. “I was really looking forward to the begging.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Yep, I think you called that out once or twice as well.”

“Stop it.” Quinn shoved a bite of sandwich in her mouth, hoping her sister would do the same. She was not in the mood to have this conversation. Not now. Not when she was still sorting through her feelings. “This is good.”

“Thanks,” Monica said. “I try to please. Not as much as Luke Dashwood, but you know, I do what I can.”

“Monica!” Quinn pleaded. Her face flamed red.

“So, tell me about Luke. I’ve seen him around this week when he’s been visiting Brandon.” Monica blushed when she said the injured bear’s name. “But your Luke is hard to read.”

“He’s not my Luke.”

“He sure sounded like yours,” Monica said. “Hey, if Marigold and her brother trust the guy, he can’t be all bad.”

“It’s not that,” Quinn said. How much should she tell Monica? Was it better to keep Luke’s secret and take whatever consequences came as a result? For now, she would keep quiet. The party was still three nights away, and she didn’t have to decide anything this very minute.

Marigold ducked her head into the kitchen. “There you are,” she said.

“Here I am,” Quinn agreed. Had Marigold known about Luke’s plan to pretend to be a bear? She would ask her clansmen later, not in front of her sister. But Marigold had to know Luke was a werewolf.

“Luke needs you.”

“I bet he does,” Monica snorted.

Quinn’s stomach dipped. “Uhm, why?”

“He says he found something in the secret passages that you need to see. I’m supposed to follow you.”

Quinn nodded, then pushed away her half eaten sandwich. “Fine.” She sighed. “Let’s go.”

“You want me to come with?” Monica asked.

“No, I can handle it.”

Monica tipped her ham sandwich against her forehead. “I know you can.”

Quinn took the stairs two by two and bounded up to the second floor. She clenched her fists as they made their way to the end of the hall. “Dad’s study is just down there.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Did you know about the plan?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Quinn lowered her voice to barely audible. “To have Luke pretend to be a bear shifter to infiltrate the party.”

Marigold tensed. “Yes, but I thought it was a bad plan if that counts for anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it would matter. He’s only here for security. Who cares if he’s not a bear?” The moment Quinn opened the bookcase, and they both stepped inside the hidden passage, Marigold sniffed deeply. She sneezed, then said, “Oh, my.”

“Tell me about it.” Quinn took a few steps to where her tattered lace underwear lay where Luke had dropped them and shoved them in her bra. “Now do you see my problem?”

“He didn’t mark you did he?”

“No,” Quinn said. “It didn’t get that far.”

“But you wanted it to.”

Quinn didn’t answer. “I can’t be with him. You know that. I owe my life and duty to the clan.” Not my stupid heart.

Marigold cast her a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.”

Luke rounded the corner shirtless. Quinn’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t really had time to appreciate the magnificence of his physique before the other shoe had dropped. Holy smokes, this man was grade-A prime hottie. Why did he have to be a wolf?

“Is this casual Friday?” Marigold asked.

Luke didn’t smile. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

“What did you find?” Quinn said, getting right down to business. “It has to be important if you sent Marigold to find me.”

“It is.” Luke waved for the two women to follow him.

They passed the room where Quinn had almost had the best sex of her life—oh, who was she kidding, even without screwing, it had been the best sex of her life.

Luke put his finger over his lips. “Stay quiet as we walk down these back pathways.”

Quinn and Marigold nodded. What the heck could Luke have found? She hoped it wasn’t the skeleton of some ancestor. That would be…actually, that would be cool.

After two turns, Luke put his finger to his lips again and pointed to a little black box hooked to a black wire, and there was a red blinking light on the back.

Quinn caught his gaze and mouthed, “What the fuck?”

He waved them to follow him further. There were more black boxes, and more wires, and the wires finally disappeared into an exterior wall. Luke motioned down. He flipped a switch on the side of a panel, and the wall slid open.

It was Quinn’s bedroom. Luke motioned for Quinn and Marigold to follow him. They went out the door, down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the house. A breeze caught Quinn’s skirt and blew it up over her naked ass.

“Shit!” She pushed it down, gulping at the predatory look in Luke’s eyes. He’d definitely caught the bootie show. “What were those things?”

“Cameras and listening devices,” Marigold said. “That was a professional set-up, boss. Someone wants to keep tabs on the Orsons.”

“Cameras. Wait? What?” Quinn stammered. “There…three of them…Oh my God! There were three of them in my bedroom.” Even though, other than changing clothing a few times nothing much happened in her room, she felt violated. “Every time I picked my nose or scratched my ass, someone was recording it?”

“They are motion activated, so yes, unfortunately.” Luke closed the distance between himself and Quinn and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry.”

Quinn sagged against him, glad for the comfort. She got the feeling the apology wasn’t only about the cameras. Could she really be mad at him? He’d tried to tell her that his secret was big. She just hadn’t expected that it was big enough to fool her senses. “It’s not your fault.” She blinked up at him. “None of it.”

It took all her strength and courage of willpower to ease her body away from him. She wasn’t Luke’s. He wasn’t hers. And that’s the way it had to be.