“Your handsome fiancé’s here,” Marbella said pushing through the dining room door into the kitchen. “Told him we was lockin’ up and that you’d be out when you were done back here, but he said he wanted to see if he could help.”

I turned, the day’s paperwork in hand. “Where is he now?”

“He followed her into the kitchen,” Jack said behind me.

I jumped, spinning around to face him. “Jack. Jesus, I’m seriously getting you a bell. What are you doing here?”

He chuckled. “Finished at the office early today. Thought I’d ride along with Alan to pick you up. You almost done?”

I checked my watch. It was only midnight. The last four nights since I’d moved in to Jack’s apartment, he hadn’t made it home before two AM. “I’ve got a little more paperwork to do. You don’t have to wait. I’ll take the train.”

Jack stooped over to peer through the metal shelves deeper into the kitchen. “I don’t mind waiting. The apartment’s too quiet, now.” He straightened, his face suddenly colored with a warm flush. “Turns out I like having someone there when I get home from work.”

I blinked at that. He missed me? Naww . . . He just wasn’t used to living alone. Jack had Lenny as company before I moved in. But now that Lenny had moved into my place with George I was the only one ghosting around the massive penthouse at night. “Oh. Uhm . . . Okay,” I said.

He stretched a smile then stepped around me, snooping in containers, opening drawers.

“Well, I finished closing out front so I’m heading home.” Marbella, pulled the strings on her apron and hung it on the hook after grabbing her sweater. “See you tomorrow.”

“Si, me too. Kitchen clean. Going home,” Diego said.

“Okay. Thanks, guys.” I watched my last two employees slip out the back door.

“I’m out too,” George said, shoving his arms into his olive green windbreaker.

“You got the deposit?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll drop it off on the way,” he said. “I’m meeting up with Lenny for drinks.”

“You two ready for this weekend at our parent’s place?” Jack asked.

My brother shrugged, but his smile was enormous, happy—giddy even. “As ready as anyone can be who’s about to meet their new in-laws and then be transformed into another species.”

“You’ll do great. He loves you,” Jack said. “It’s obvious. And our family will love you too.”

Whatever fantasy role-playing thing Jack had going, his entire family was playing too. They all believed they were werewolves. Even I had to admit, despite seeing no real evidence, that playing along was beginning to make it all seem . . . possible. Still, it was weird. After everything we’d been through, I just wanted things to be easy for my little brother. Weird wasn’t easy.

“Are you sure about this, George?” I edged forward, catching my brother’s full attention. “You guys barely know each other. I just think you should slow things down. Marriage is a big deal. It’s not a game.”

George snorted. “Seriously?” He looked to Jack then me again. “You’re marrying a stranger as a business deal, and you’re lecturing me about the sanctity of marriage?”

When it came to picking a mate, apparently, Lenny was a typical werewolf. He’d fallen for George at first sight. I hear it took a day longer for George. After all, according to my brother, he’d only seen Lenny in his wolf form jogging alongside him in Central Park.

I wasn’t totally cool finding out that my little brother believed he’d been secretly dating a werewolf for almost two months before I saw him feeding the big husky type dog-wolf scraps in the alley a few days ago. But then when is a good time to tell your overprotective big sister that you’re in love with a supernatural being and plan on becoming one yourself?

“I’m doing this for both of us. For you. To protect our family. Me and you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Lenny would never hurt me,” George said. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“I’d be happy if I could be sure you’re not making a mistake.”

“I feel the same way about you.” He stepped forward and kissed my forehead. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me. I love him.”

You believe he’s a werewolf. I kept the comment to myself. He’d just insist that I was being close-minded and scared. Nonsense. I was being sane and protective. Duh. Someone had to be.

Couldn’t blame him for keeping his affair with Lenny from me. At least he was happy. I envied the ease of their courtship. And I was fairly certain Jack did too.

Apparently, choosing and presenting a mate was easier for Lenny. According to their rules, his mate wouldn’t hold the rank and power that Jack’s mate would. George would be introduced to the family and if they approved—which they would, because my little brother is awesome—his induction into the pack would take place this weekend. The same weekend Jack was presenting me as their possible next alpha female. No pressure. Riiiight . . .

At least I’d be there to protect George, to watch out for him. For me this weekend was all pretend—strictly business. I wouldn’t actually be turned. But for my little brother it was the real deal. All of it was real. He’d sworn he’d seen Lenny shift forms. He’d looked me in the eye and told me they really were werewolves and soon, he’d be a werewolf too—welcomed into the pack.

I still hadn’t totally wrapped my brain around that, but it was seriously getting harder and harder to keep a skeptical mind. How could it be real? Crazy, right? But then, I knew George. I knew he didn’t think he was lying. It just didn’t make sense. “Okay. Well . . . be careful,” I said.

“You too.” George’s blue eyes flicked from me to Jack and back again. His smile turned mischievous. “Remember this kitchen has already been cleaned and sanitized. Don’t you two do anything in here that will get us fined by the health department.”

“Go home, George,” I said. My romantic little brother refused to accept that there was zero chance of Jack doing anything unsanitary with me. He was sure it was just a matter of time before our pretend attraction became real. But Jack and I didn’t have what he and Lenny had, and for the first time in a long time a pinch of jealousy put a crick in the back of my neck.

My brother marched out the back door, laughing.

“You want me to lock this?” Jack asked, hiking a thumb toward the door.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said turning to escape to my office. “I’ll be out when I’m finished with this paperwork.” Okay, so that was a total lie. But what was I supposed to say?

There was a reason I hung out at the restaurant every night while Jack was at his office. I didn’t want to be in that penthouse any longer than I had to, living in that fairytale world that was too much of a confusing mix between reality and make-believe. I was about to marry the Prince Charming of Wall Street and was already setting up house in his beautiful castle in the sky.

Despite the whole werewolf thing, I couldn’t help the way Jack made me feel. I could see this amazing life—as real as anything. I could touch it, smell it, but it was all just make-believe. Prince Charming was just pretending and when he got what he needed, the fairytale would end and I’d go back to my peasant life.

Being near him, seeing those intense green eyes focus on me, that sexy smile bloom across his face, my body didn’t know it wasn’t real. But worse than that, my heart had somehow gotten confused along the way, too.

I liked being with Jack. I liked being his friend, being the one he whispered his secrets to, the one he kept an eye on in a crowded room, the one he sat up late with watching reality TV. I liked the way he made me feel special, as dear to him as he was becoming to me. But it wasn’t real. It was business and I needed the time alone to remind myself—to fortify my heart.

But how could I banish thoughts of Jack when he was hanging around in my kitchen being all sexy, taking up space, sucking in air, throwing pans around . . . ?

The sound of an avalanche of metal coming from my kitchen launched me out of my chair. I raced out to the kitchen. “What’re you doing?”

Jack stood frozen, four well-used skillets balanced haphazardly in his arms, three more on the griddle, another five on the floor around his feet. Like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar he gave me a sheepish smile. Adorable. Damn it. “Was gonna make us a couple omelets, but your cooks booby-trapped the pans.”

I went over to help him. “They don’t like people messing with their kitchen.”

“Chefs are territorial. Got it,” he said with a nod. “I can relate to that.”

I chuckled. “I bet. And yes. We are. So, stop snooping.”

“My bad,” he said. “I keep forgetting you like to cook, too. Have you always wanted to be a chef?”

“No. I mean, I can cook. I’m good at it. But my dream was to be a baker,” I said, stretching to stack all but one of the pans back on the high shelf. “The Sweet Spot started out as pastry shop.”

“Really? It didn’t do well?” Jack asked.

“It did great. I happen to be a superb baker,” I said with no small amount of attitude. “But after my brother went to culinary school he couldn’t find a good paying job. So, we turned the place into a diner. The transition’s been a little tough.”

He reached up and easily slid the last pan on top of the pile for me. “I could help with that if you’d like. I know the food critic at the Times.”

“Really?” My hope spiked. “That would be fantastic.”

“I’ll set it up,” he said, leaning a hip against the prep table, and folding his arms across his chest. “Is this week too soon?”

“No. This week is great.”

“Good.” His wide smile lit his eyes and made my heart skip. “I’ll make sure I’m here, too. Help sell the place . . . and you. Not that you need it.”

My face warmed. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been trying to get this place noticed for a couple years and it feels like I’m just spinning wheels.”

“A mention in the Times will help,” he said.

“It will.” I looked up at him. “Thank you, Jack.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m just promising to get him here. Impressing him is up to you.”

“I can do that.”

“I have no doubt.” He didn’t touch me, didn’t move, but he suddenly felt closer. My body tingled with awareness. His voice dropped a half octave, melting through my veins. “You’ve already impressed the hell out of me.”

My cheeks flamed so hot I almost pressed my palms to my face to cool them off. “So, uhm . . . you’re hungry?

“Oh.” He straightened, snapping out of his private thoughts. “Yes. But I’m cooking this time. Where do you keep the eggs?”

“I’ll get what you need from the walk-in.” I shooed him out of the way, though there really wasn’t anywhere for him to go.

Sidestepping Jack to get to the cooler wasn’t easy. He was bigger than Diego and Lucas, even bigger than George—taller, broader. There wasn’t nearly as much space between him and the griddle. No way could I slip by him without walking straight through the invisible cloud of yummy Jack-scent, fresh forests, warm maple and crisp pine all rolled together in the unique woodsy fragrance that was so familiar and yet so Jack.

I closed my eyes and stole a quick breath into my lungs. He’d never notice. But then he grabbed my arms and stopped me just before I’d cleared his body. My eyes snapped open to see him smiling at me, his hands on my elbows gentle but firm. I caught my breath.

“I can get what I need myself,” he said, the double entendre ringing in my brain whether he meant it or not. He shuffled me back to my spot and went to the cooler.

Seconds later he was back, arms loaded with eggs, a carton of milk, cheese, veggies and an assortment of meats. “I’m no chef, but if there’s one thing I can make, it’s omelets.”

I shrugged. “Go for it.”

He dumped his supplies on the prep table, and set the skillet to warm on the griddle. As he chopped and measured and mixed he looked at me sideways, his smile soft and real. He laughed under his breath and looked back to his vegetables.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He shook his head still smiling. “Y’know, inhaling someone’s scent is kind of a big deal to my kind.”

I stole a slice of bell pepper, nervously nibbling. “Really? That’s interesting.” Busted. Admit nothing.

“You sniff me . . . a lot,” he said.

“No I don’t.” Liar! “I mean, yes I sometimes take a breath when I pass by you, but it’s not to smell you. It’s a coincidence. I’m just, y’know, breathing. I’m a mammal. I require oxygen. Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“My mistake,” he said with another soft sexy chuckle. He scraped the chopped veggies to the side and began working on the eggs, expertly cracking the shells with one hand and adding milk. “I was just going to say that I’ve done the same to you.”

I froze, muscles stiff. “Really?”

He picked up the bowl, leaning a hip against the prep table and began whisking the eggs into a frothy cream. “You wear too much perfume.”

Ouch. “Wow. Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No. I mean, you have a natural scent that’s far more . . . enticing than anything you could buy from a store,” he said. “It’s weird.”

“You’re not really good at the compliment thing.”

“Not tonight, it seems.” He laughed, turning to pour the eggs into the pan. They popped and sizzled, the yummy aroma already making my stomach growl. “Sorry. I’m usually much better at expressing my thoughts but when I’m around you . . .”

He trailed off, shaking his head. He added the mix of veggies and diced bits of ham and pre-cooked bacon. He looked sideways at me again, the expression on his face more thoughtful.

“I meant that most humans smell too much like . . . well, like humans. But you . . . underneath your perfume—which is perfectly nice—you have a natural scent that’s much more . . . distracting than any human I’ve ever met.”

“You can smell my skin underneath the perfume?” I asked trying not to overthink the fact that my scent distracted him.

He nodded, using the spatula to spread the veggies and meats evenly through the eggs. “All the time. I can smell it now. It’s . . . a little intoxicating. Very strange.”

“Okay, here’s a suggestion. Try not to use the words ‘strange’ and ‘weird’ when describing your thoughts about a woman.”

He laughed again and the rich baritone sound rolled through my chest, melting my insides. I inhaled, trying to calm the needs awakening inside me.

“Right. Good tip. Sorry.” He shook his head again, sprinkling shredded cheese and folding the eggs in half. “I told you, I can’t seem to speak intelligently around you. You have an odd effect on me. And I don’t mean odd in a bad way. I mean, unlike anyone I know.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said glancing from the pan to me and back again. He sprinkled more cheese and my stomach rumbled, but the need growing inside me had little to do with hunger. “I’ve never had a woman actually rob me of speech and thought before. I kinda like it.”

He slid the perfectly cooked omelet onto a waiting plate and stretched past me to grab one of the cook’s forks from the container. His dizzying scent swirled around me, adding fuel to a growing desire I didn’t know how to extinguish. I closed my eyes, breathed him in through my open mouth and exhaled as he leaned back. My hands were shaking, my thighs warm, muscles tight. I couldn’t help it.

Our eyes met, his powerful frame so close a casual lean would have me pressed against him. Energy sparked between us like magnets pulling me toward him. Jack lifted the plate, and cut a bite with the side of his fork.

“Open,” he said softly, but his voice was low, intimate, the fork in his hand hovering at my lips.

I opened my mouth, my eyes glued to his, and he slipped the fork passed my lips. The omelet was delicious, moist, bursting with flavor, but my senses were too full of Jack to care. The feel of him was so close—the smell of his wild natural scent, the look of hunger in his eyes.

“It’s good,” I said.

“Is it?” His gaze dropped to my mouth as he set the plate on the prep table. He brushed his thumb along my bottom lip, cleaning it or desiring it, I wasn’t sure, but the look in his eyes made my body tighten. His finger caught under my chin, held me as he leaned closer and fit his lips to mine.

My breath caught, warm tingling sensation rushing through my veins. I closed my eyes, relaxing into his kiss. The feel of his lips drew me in, my mind light, unfocused. My heart raced, my blood a heated rush under my skin.

He slipped his arms around me, deepening his kiss, and I opened my mouth to him. Like a predator who’d lured in his prey, Jack’s muscles hugged tight around me, crushing my body to his and my breath caught. He pulled his lips from mine and straightened, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Kate . . ,” he said, his chest swelling with quickening breaths. His kisses moved to my closed eyes, one and then the other. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—”

“No. Don’t be sorry,” I said loving the feel of his warm lips pressed to my cheek, to the bridge of my nose, to my temple.

“We can stop,” he said. “You don’t have to do this. We agreed . . .”

I exhaled, my breath reflecting off his chest to warm my face. “I know.”

“Damn it. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said, trailing one kiss after another along my jaw.

“I know,” I breathed.

“I thought I’d made sure. But . . . dear God . . . Kate, there’s something about you.” His mouth found mine again and he took the kiss I would’ve given, demanding more. His passion radiated through the way he held me, the way his larger body enveloped mine.

The need he’d awakened in me burst into a flame, burning through my veins and obliterating my good judgment. I knew this was dumb—this was a complication neither of us needed or wanted. But his hand moved up my side, his thumb brushing the edge of my breast, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think for wanting his touch, wanting to feel his hands on my bare skin.

I unbuttoned my blouse and Jack was suddenly helping, kissing me while pulling at the fabric of my shirt. Before the last button was undone, his hands dropped to the clasp of my slacks, unfastening the zipper and slipping his long fingers into my panties, caressing my skin.

He pushed his hands down my thighs, his palms hot against my legs and his kisses burning a line down my chest, from between my breasts to the top of my belly. Each press of his lips warmed like the embers of a fire, my body tightening with need.

The slacks and panties fell loose past my knees to my feet, and I stepped out of them, pressing my hands up the hard wall of his chest, catching buttons, unfastening as I went. Jack yanked the knot of his tie until he was free of it, stripping off his shirt the moment he was able. I smoothed my hands over the solid muscles of his chest, the iron ripples of his abs—and everything female inside me shuddered with need.

His hand cupped the side of my face and his thumb pressed my chin up, lifting my lips to his again. His demanding kiss stole my breath as he smoothed his hands down my chest, cupping my breasts, his thumbs rasping over my lace bra, finding the pucker of my nipples. A gentle tease, a quick pinch and he moved his hands to my waist, clamping hold and lifting me to the cold metal table behind me. Jack wedged his hips between my knees, spreading my thighs wide. Without thinking my hands went to his belt, to the button and zipper of his slacks.

An instant later I wrapped my hand around the stiff rod of his penis, freeing him. Jack jerked me toward him. I gasped, but he centered my sex with his—his body hard and ready. One hand hooked under my knee he clasped the back of my neck with the other and took another firm, insistent kiss. His hips rocked forward, slipping his sex between the tight, slick muscles of my body, entering me. Sweet sensation seized my breath, rippling through my muscles, and I shifted forward, driving him deeper.

Within seconds instinct took hold, both of us frantic, driven by desire, by need, by mind-numbing sensation. Jack pulled me closer, perching me on the very edge of the table as he thrust into me, again and again, his kisses growing harder—more possessive. Metal things banged in rhythm on the table, some finally clamoring to the floor. I didn’t care.

His careful dominance charged my sexual fantasies, turning me on, like napalm on a campfire—I was a blaze wildly out of control. Sensation stormed through my body, heart racing.

A wonderful pressure instantly built inside me, pushing at my skin, whirling tighter and tighter. I caught my breath; trying to hold out, hold on, the pleasure humming under my skin. I couldn’t think. Didn’t need to. My body knew what it wanted, what it needed, and it was nearly there. The stroke of him inside me pushed me closer and closer, muscles trembling, breath ragged.

I couldn’t hold back any longer, the pressure suddenly exploding inside me. I called out, wordless, in a cry of ecstasy.

Sweet release gushed through me, filling my head, cascading down my chest and arms, quaking all the way to my toes. Jack burned hot and fast, reaching climax seconds later. His moan of relief rumbled through me, his breaths hot against my ear.

We stood for a quiet moment, nothing but our shallow breaths filling the air. Finally, he lifted his head from my shoulder, his arms still holding around me.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice weak. He kissed the top of my head. “That went a little faster than I would’ve liked, but you felt so . . . It was hard to control myself. Were you . . . satisfied?”

I laughed, raising my head from his chest. “And then some. Just wish we’d used some kind of protection.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re a different species. Non-compatible. Nothing can be passed between us,” he said.

God, I hope that’s not just a line. Great. Was I actually hoping he was a werewolf?

He stepped back and helped me slide off the table to my feet, then bent to grab my things from the floor. I glanced around. A few pots littered the floor, but other than that there were no obvious signs of what we’d done.

“We’re gonna need to sterilize this area again,” I said.

“Yeah. I figured,” Jack said, his blushing smile matching my own. “I’ll clean up the omelet. You grab the disinfectant and a couple sponges.”

Right. I should get that on a T-shirt.