West had hurried home after finishing at work, but it was already two o’clock. He hoped the girls hadn’t killed each other. Or, more accurately, he hoped Cattail hadn’t killed Winnie.

“Mr. Croft,” Annika said with relief when the elevator opened.

“Annika. Where are the girls?”

“Amy is laying out lunch, sir. The . . . the new girl is already at table. Miss Wednesday should be coming.”

“Has there been any trouble?” he asked softly. “Anything unusual?”

“No, sir?” Annika said, looking a little puzzled. “Unusual how, sir? They’ve been nice to each other.”

“Good. Good.” He handed her his coat. “I’ll go in to them directly.”

He was almost to the dining room when Winnie stopped him, coming out of nowhere to grip his arm. “West?”

“Winnie!” He folded her into his arms in the shadow of a hallway. “Oh, Winnie, I’m sorry. You’ve had a confusing day, haven’t you?”

She nodded, and her big, jewel-toned blue eyes melted him. They looked so sad, so anxious. “Who is she, West? She says your family sent her.”

“They did,” he said grimly. “They’re hoping I’ll . . . marry her.” He had to remember to say marry and not mate.

Winnie trembled. “They’ve never met me, West. How can they disapprove of me?”

“Oh, darling. It’s not you they disapprove of, exactly. They just want me to marry someone . . . like them.” He squeezed her, loving the hot softness of her curves. “How do you feel?”

“Afraid,” she admitted. “I care about you, West. I don’t want to go.”

“I care about you too, darling,” he said quietly. It was the truth. “And I don’t want you to go either. Try not to worry. I’ll sort this out.”

But he had no idea how he would sort it out. Winnie was still human, and he was still a shifter—like Cat, who admittedly was a more sensible choice in every measurable way. It was just that he had feelings for Winnie now. Strong feelings, the kind of feelings he hadn’t felt in years.

“How will you fix it?” Winnie asked softly, putting him on the spot. She sounded so vulnerable that he had to answer.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “I’ll figure that out. Come on, let’s have lunch.” He put his arm around her waist and they went into the dining room, taking their separate seats. Cat didn’t seem bothered. She was eyeing the turkey-and-avocado salad that was the lunch’s centerpiece.

“Cattail,” West said in a chilly voice. He had a hard time speaking to a woman in an unfriendly way, but what else could he do? He had to convince this girl to go home. “How did you sleep? Is your room acceptable?”

“My room’s great. Thanks for all the dresses, too,” she said. “Have you heard from Elder Stone?”

“No. Should I have?” West asked, suspicious. Were there more awful surprises in store? Was Stone planning something?

“I don’t think so. I was just curious. He’s responsible for me in the eyes of my clan,” Cat said, sipping club soda. “You, too. But also him. He brought me here.”

“Are you afraid something might happen to you?” asked West, frowning. “I promise it won’t.”

“I can take care of myself,” Cat said, and West believed it. She was every inch a shifter, from her gold-ringed eyes to her scent of birch bark and salmonberries, a wild thing, with the wild strength to match. “But I would hate to get stranded in this country. He has my papers.”

West cursed inwardly. “You won’t be trapped, I assure you. I can take care of any eventuality. Papers or not.”

She nodded. “Winnie is a wonderful girl,” she said suddenly. “I like her, and I can see why you do too. She’s been really nice to me.”

West glanced at Winnie, who had turned faintly pink. “Winnie is absolutely wonderful,” he agreed.

“Cat is nice too,” Winnie said quietly. She traded a significant look with West, and he realized that she was telling the truth. That made things even more unpleasant. If Cat had been a horrible girl, it would have been easier to get rid of her. “She says she’s never been out of Canada.”

“I haven’t,” Cat said, biting into a forkful of salad. “New York is like another planet. I think I like it.”

West felt a little pang of tenderness, of understanding. That was how he’d felt when he’d first arrived in New York. It was, indeed, worlds away from the sea-spray-drenched quiet of Clallam Bay. “I can arrange for you to go out. See some of the attractions,” he offered.

“I’d like that,” Cat said, gazing at him. He felt a charge of mutual animal recognition. “But we also need to talk. You and I.”

He nodded slowly, aware of Winnie’s heart beating faster at his side. He could hear the hummingbird pace of it with his shifter senses. “We will. Later.”

The rest of the lunch conversation passed him by almost unnoticed. He was aware of Cat and Winnie talking—about Fifth Avenue, maybe?—but it made no impression on him. He had too big a problem to solve. When Amy came to clear the dishes away, Cat startled him by jumping to her feet.

“It’s later. Can we talk?”

“No,” West said automatically. “Amy, tell Annika to call a car. Have her take Cattail to the Met. They’re open late tonight.”

“Of course, sir.”

“But—” Cattail began.

“We can talk when you get back,” said West firmly. “I need to speak with Winnie first. Go enjoy the museum.”

Cat looked like she might say something else, but she didn’t. West gripped Winnie by the wrist and pulled her all the way to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“West,” Winnie said pleadingly as soon as they were alone. “Why is she here? Why is she really here? She asked me today if I was a bear. You asked me that once too, remember? What’s going on?”

West ran his fingers through Winnie’s thick blonde hair. The feel of her soft, cool curls grounded him. “It’s a long story.”

“Maybe it is, but I’m part of it now. I need to hear it.” She bit her plush, pink bottom lip, reddening it. “Please.”

“Winnie . . .”

“Please?”

He gripped her hair tighter and leaned in to give her a brief, reassuring kiss. “There are some things I can’t explain. Just trust me. I can handle this.”

“Let me help you, West. What can I do?”

He kissed her again, slowly this time, lingeringly, and she kissed back. He loved the fresh, honeyed taste of her, the fullness of her lips, the heat of her mouth. “Darling, nothing. I have to fix this.”

“Will you send her home? What will happen to her if you do?”

That question surprised him. “To her? Nothing. Why?”

“West, I’ll be frank,” she said in a faint voice. “Whatever worldview your family and hers has, it’s . . . it’s not very mainstream, is it? You ran away from it because it was smothering you.” She put a hand on his chest. It was warm through his shirt. “Now they’ve sent this poor girl after you to make you one of them again. She told me she lives in a cabin in the forest, that all her clothes are secondhand, that she’s never had a job, that she’s never been to school. That’s . . . that’s horrible. What will happen to her if she can’t land you, West? Will they hurt her? I don’t understand the way your people think. I’m afraid for her, afraid for you, afraid for me.”

He softened. Winnie didn’t understand what she was dealing with. She didn’t understand that Cattail belonged to a clan of shifters who lived apart by choice. Shifters were happiest in the deep woods away from human society. Of course their lifestyle sounded horrible to an outsider. She didn’t realize that they were free.

“Nothing will happen to her,” he promised. “Believe me on that.”

She nodded, although she looked a little doubtful.

“Listen, Winnie,” he said, and he put his hands on her soft waist. “I said I wanted you and I meant it. I’m not going to marry a girl from home just because she’s forced on me.”

“Who brought her here?” Winnie asked, gripping the fabric over his arm.

“Family members,” he said vaguely. “They’re not important.”

“I know it was your family. But who was it? Your parents?”

West laughed flatly. “No. It was . . . our family patriarch, if that makes sense.”

“You don’t like him.”

“Is it that obvious? No. I don’t. And I don’t like interference of any kind in my affairs.” He gazed into Winnie’s clear, bright eyes and felt a surge of animal desire. The bear in him wanted to stud her again, wanted to make her truly his. Then no one could take her. Ever. “Try not to think about Cattail tonight. I’m taking us out.”

“You are? Where to?”

“The opera,” he said firmly. “Chinese opera. The Peony Pavilion.”

He saw in her eyes that she liked that idea. They brightened even more. “Chinese opera?”

“That’s right.”

“When?”

“The show’s at seven. But change and we’ll leave now. It’ll be good for you to get outside.” He ran his thumb over her cheek, enjoying the creamy smoothness of her skin. “Don’t be afraid, Winnie. As long as you’re here with me, I belong to you. Not Cat.”

She reached up on tiptoes to kiss him. He liked it so much that he wanted to shove her back onto the bed, shove her silky thighs apart, and—but that wasn’t civilized. And he was trying very hard to stay civilized.

“I’ll put a dress on,” she murmured against his mouth. All he could taste was the honey of her lips.