“Emma, it’s me, Sylvia. From the book signing.”

Emma peered through the eyeholes of the ugliest plastic werewolf mask in the world. “Hey, Sylvia! I never would have recognized you.”

“I know! Isn’t this a great mask?”

“It’s scary, all right.” The werewolf’s lips were pulled back in a snarl worthy of the creepiest horror movie.

“I improvised the rest. I think it works, don’t you?” Sylvia gestured to her baggy grey sweat suit and fuzzy grey slippers.

“Absolutely.” Emma took another gulp of her wine.

“Want to hear me howl?”

“Uh, well, I—”

“Owwwoooooo!”

“Nice howl.” Emma drank more wine.

“This is the best party. I’ve been groped twice.”

“Groped? By whom?”

“I don’t know! That’s the fun part of a masked ball, you know. This isn’t exactly a ball, but we’re all in disguise, so it’s the same idea. A little pinch here, a little nudge there. It’s all in good fun.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” This was Emma’s idea of hell. She liked to look into people’s faces when she talked to them. That was how she gauged reactions to the conversation. Everyone here, with the exception of Aidan and the waiters, had dressed up as a werewolf. Emma stood in a sea of fur trying to get her bearings.

The crowd milled around her, jostling her sometimes, stopping to chat other times. She’d initiated a few exchanges herself by commenting on the costumes.

The Werewolves and Wine club members had been nice enough. Many of them had made a point of coming over to say how much they enjoyed her books. A few had brought copies from home for her to sign, which she did happily. These were hard-core fans, and she knew they talked her up at bookstores and on the Internet.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t really need her here. She’d created the world, but they’d made it their own and now she was extraneous. They didn’t mind her being here, but they viewed her as essentially an outsider. If she’d been one of them, she would have come in costume.

Throughout the evening, she’d studied the people in attendance in case one of them turned out to be Theo. She’d only seen him briefly in the bookstore, but she remembered he was tall, well over six feet, and lanky. She’d kept track of one guy who fit that description, but when he’d approached her, his voice had sounded nothing like Theo’s. She was sure she’d recognize that voice again if she heard it.

Aidan had stayed within sight, and she found comfort in watching him interact with the costumed guests. He knew how to work a room, and she suspected he was working this one to make sure Theo didn’t slip in unnoticed. She wondered what Aidan would do if Theo did show up.

Would he take him outside and put the fear of God into him with a little physical intimidation? She didn’t doubt it. As much as she’d protested that she didn’t need or want a bodyguard for this trip, she was grateful to have Aidan at this party sifting through the crowd. He drank only mineral water, and she appreciated that, too.

He was working on her behalf. Sure, he was working for his family, too, but he’d said her safety was his primary concern, and he was an honorable man. She believed him.

She also wanted him with a fierce longing that no amount of wine could mute. No doubt other women in the room wanted him, too. He looked like a model out of GQ with his hand-tailored suit and his white silk shirt open at the neck. Emma smiled as she thought of Sylvia, who wouldn’t be above pinching Aidan’s butt as she glided by.

The noise level grew, and Emma cast a surreptitious glance at her watch. Twenty minutes to go before Barry would arrive to save them. Yet once he did, they would go straight back to the hotel and separate for the night. At least here she could admire Aidan from afar.

As if he sensed her gaze on him, his head came up and he looked straight at her. She smiled and hoisted her glass in his direction, toasting his party skills. He smiled back at her, but then someone demanded his attention and he turned away again.

“He’s a cutie-pie.”

Emma looked for the person who’d made that comment and found Sylvia standing beside her with her mask pushed to the top of her head. She held a plate of finger food in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other.

“He is that,” Emma agreed.

“Nice buns.”

“Intelligent, too.”

“He has intelligent buns? Does that make him a smartass?”

Emma laughed. “You’re too quick for me, Sylvia.”

“Nah, I’m just an old lady. But I’ve seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you. You two would make beautiful babies together.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Sylvia, but Aidan and I aren’t a couple.”

“Really?” Sylvia glanced from Aidan to Emma. “You look like you are, always keeping track of each other. I thought you must be together. I was hearing wedding bells.”

“Won’t be happening.”

“Then I guess I can tell you that I did a stealth-pinch move on him.”

Emma grinned. “I can pretty much guess what that is.”

“I’m sure you can. I sidle over, pretending I’m listening in on the conversation, and then bam! I pinch and leave. But I could barely do the stealth pinch on him. He has a very firm butt.”

“I know.”

“Oh, really?” Sylvia widened her eyes as if shocked by the news. “How would you know that, missy?”

“I’ll never tell.”

Sylvia set her plate down on a nearby table and waggled her finger at Emma. “Men like that don’t come along every day. I should know. My Ned was one-of-a-kind. We were married for fifty-two years. I’m still mad at him for leaving me.”

“He left you?”

Sylvia shrugged. “He had to. He died.”

“Oh, Sylvia, I’m sorry. That must have been very hard.”

“It was. I felt really punk for a couple of years. But life goes on. I picked up one of your books and after reading it, I said to myself, Sylvia, there are still men out there to pinch! So I’m back in the game.” She picked up her plate again. “I’m off to get more food. Thanks for keeping me young, Emma.”

In the general category of compliments, Emma thought that was an outstanding one. Maybe this party hadn’t been such a lost cause, after all. And she’d been able to Aidan-watch for a solid two hours.

About that time he walked over and stood beside her. “How are you holding up?”

“Not too bad. You?”

“I’ve been pinched a time or two.”

Emma smiled to herself. “I’m not surprised.” She studied the crowd. “I never did see him. I don’t think he came tonight.”

“He didn’t.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

Aidan set his glass of mineral water on the table next to them. “That’s because I am very sure of that. He didn’t show, which is good. Maybe he gave up after last night’s fiasco. He has a book thanks to his friend Terry.”

“Maybe Nadia talked to him and convinced him to back off.”

“Maybe.”

Someone jostled Emma and she grabbed her purse as it started to slide down her shoulder. “It’s really crowded in here. The party hasn’t been as arduous as I expected, but I’m ready to leave.”

Aidan shot his cuffs and checked his watch. “Barry should be down there in about five minutes.”

She couldn’t resist teasing him. “I saw how you did that maneuver. You like checking your limited edition watch, don’t you?”

He glanced over at her and smiled. “It’s elegant. I appreciate elegance.”

Her good mood evaporated. “Like Nadia,” she said without thinking.

“I’ll admit Nadia is elegant,” he said. “But so are you.”

“Me? I’m short and stubby.”

“Stubby? Hardly.”

“Maybe stubby is too harsh, and I guess I’m sort of cute, but nobody, and I mean nobody has ever accused me of being elegant.”

He touched her cheek, his fingers very warm. “Then consider yourself accused.”

Although he removed his hand almost immediately, Emma felt the imprint of his fingers as they said their goodbyes, retrieved their coats, and walked back down the stairs to the street where Barry waited.

Elegant. He was just being nice, of course. They were close to the end of this adventure, so he could afford to be nice. In a few minutes they’d go up to the penthouse and into their isolation units, or at least that’s the way she’d begun to think of their separate bedrooms.

The car ride was quick and silent. Emma concluded that both of them were thinking about the night ahead and their vow not to have anything to do with each other. She forgot that they needed to give Barry instructions about picking her up for the flight to Denver in the morning.

Aidan, ever the efficient one, didn’t forget. “Emma’s flight leaves at ten-twenty,” he said. “So if you’ll pick her up at eight, that should give her enough time to clear security.”

“You’re not going to the airport with me?” Somehow she’d expected him to.

“If Theo didn’t show up tonight, I don’t think he’ll cause a problem in the morning. He’s nineteen. Typically they aren’t morning people.”

“So we’re home free.”

“Looks like it. Now, I’ll be happy to go to the airport with you if you want me to, but my flight back to New York doesn’t leave until one, so…”

“No, no. I’ll go to the airport on my own. No worries.” She felt abandoned, which was stupid. She’d traveled alone for several years, and Aidan was undoubtedly right about Theo. If he hadn’t made a move at this point, he wasn’t likely to do so.

Aidan used his key to get them on the right elevator and then into the penthouse. She’d thought of digging hers out to prove that she could get her own self into the room without having a man to do it, but the gesture seemed kind of silly, so she didn’t bother.

Once they were inside the confines of the penthouse, she intended to follow the rules. But if she couldn’t have Aidan, she might need some chocolate cake to compensate.

“I’m going to my room,” she said, “but I’m in the mood for some dessert.”

He paused and looked at her.

“That’s not code for sex, Aidan. I’m talking about actual dessert.” She crossed to the phone sitting on a small table in the living room. “I’m going to order up some of that chocolate cake I had for breakfast this morning. Do you want anything?”

Once again his expression revealed exactly what was going through his mind.

“I didn’t mean it that way. Go to bed, Aidan. We’ll get through this.”

“Yeah.” Grimacing, he turned and headed toward his bedroom. “Just put the tip on the bill.”

“Thanks for everything!” she called out to him. That was lame, but she didn’t think she’d see him again, and she was grateful for all that his wealth and status had provided this weekend. The sex had been good, too, but she wouldn’t say she was grateful. Only needy girls were grateful for sex. She was appreciative, though. She hoped he’d take her global statement as encompassing…well, all of it.

“You’re welcome,” he said without turning around. Then he walked into his bedroom, closed the door, and turned the lock. There was no mistaking that sound, a definite metallic click that meant he was locking her out.

What the hell? Did he think she would be so overcome with lust that she’d barge into his room, even after he’d made it clear they wouldn’t have sex tonight?

She abandoned her phone call. Striding down the short hallway, she rapped on the door. “Aidan, that’s plain insulting!”

His reply was muffled by the door. “What is?”

“Locking your door, that’s what! I promise you that I’m not going to encroach on the territory you’ve clearly defined. Now if you want to suggest that I lock my door, that’s a different matter. I can’t speak for your self-control. But I damned sure can speak for mine, and you don’t need a freaking lock to keep me on my side of this door.”

By the end of the speech, she was breathing hard from indignation. Or mostly from indignation. She was also breathing hard because he was on the other side of that door, probably taking off his clothes, maybe putting on sweats and a T-shirt again, maybe not…

“You’re right.” His voice was very close to the door. A soft metallic sound indicated that the door was no longer locked.

She stood by the door, contemplating whether she should suggest that maybe, if they both understood that this would be the very last time, they could indulge in a little more recreational sex. Just for tonight. Because after that they’d never see each other again. Except for book signings, although she wondered if he’d skip those. He probably would, all things considered.

“Go away, Emma.”

“How did you know I’m still here?”

“I know.”

“Well, I’m leaving. But I just want to say that—”

“Don’t say it.”

She hated being interrupted in the middle of a thought. “What’s wrong with telling you I appreciate the time we’ve had together?”

“Hey, you’re the one who told me that saying anything more would only make things worse.”

She sighed. “So you’re really serious about this abstinence plan?”

“Deadly serious.”

“Then I’m leaving.” She walked a few feet away and paused to see if he’d open the door.

“You’re still there,” he said.

“You must rock out on hearing tests. Okay, I’m really leaving, now.”

“Good.”

She stomped into the living room, making as much noise as possible so that he’d know she was truly moving away from his door. Apparently cake was going to be her only option tonight.

After ordering both the cake and a pot of coffee with a pitcher of cream, she walked into her bedroom and took off her heels. Good thing Aidan hadn’t confronted her on the shoe issue, because these strappy black patent beauties were Gucci.

After all the times she’d dinged him for his expensive tastes, she felt a little guilty about the shoes. Footwear was one of her indulgences because she’d never found an eco-friendly shoe that a girl could take dancing.

Sitting on the bed, she massaged her feet. She loved wearing the shoes…for about an hour. Sometime during the second hour her love always waned, and she was as eager to get out of the shoes as she had been to put them on.

Barefoot, she decided to haul out her suitcase and start packing while she waited for the cake and coffee to arrive. She’d simply pretend that she was alone in this penthouse, and that there was no ripped man hiding behind door number two. She was used to being alone on these book tours.

But it was one thing to start out alone and continue on alone. Starting out with Aidan for company and then continuing on alone wasn’t going to be a lot of fun. They’d been together constantly ever since they’d met at the airport, and she felt somewhat…attached.

Her feeling of attachment could be related to the great sex they’d had, although she believed it went beyond that. She liked talking to him, liked teasing him, even liked arguing with him. They just…clicked.

Intellectually, physically, and emotionally, she and Aidan matched up. From his reaction to her, she’d be willing to bet he felt the same way. But he didn’t dare say so because he had this archaic family obligation. She still had trouble with that. Talk about lack of personal choice!

The arrival of her late-night treat interrupted her packing, and she went to answer the door. Aidan would have been proud of the way she checked the peephole first. The uniformed bellman delivering her tray was the same one who had brought dinner a few hours earlier, so she opened the door.

But just to be absolutely safe, she peered into the hallway. Nobody else there.

“Where would you like the tray, ma’am?” the bellman asked. “Over by the fire? It’s a nice night for a fire.”

“So it is.” She’d intended to follow Aidan’s advice and close herself in her room, but she would never be in this penthouse again, so why not enjoy cake and coffee in front of the fire? “That would be terrific.” She walked over and flicked the switch to turn on the flames.

The bellman arranged the tray on the coffee table and handed her the check to sign. She added a generous tip and gave it back. “Thank you. This hits the spot.” At least it hit one spot, the chocolate craving part of her. That would have to suffice.

“Have a nice evening.” The bellman smiled and left. The door locked behind him with a soft click.

Emma sat on the sofa and fixed up her coffee exactly the way she liked it. Denver would be soon enough to begin cutting back on cream and chocolate. Tonight she needed both.

Her coffee on the end table and her cake in her lap, she stared into the dancing flames and told herself to enjoy the experience, because she wouldn’t have a fireplace in her next hotel room. Then she took a big bite of cake. Maybe she wouldn’t cut back on chocolate in Denver, after all. She’d be feeling deprived enough without denying herself that bit of comfort.

The cake was gone way too soon, and sitting in front of the fire by herself wasn’t nearly as much fun as she’d hoped it would be. She set the empty plate and coffee cup on the tray before standing and stretching. After turning off the fire, she carried the tray into her bedroom. She could finish off the coffee while she packed.

When she decided to shut the bedroom door, she told herself it wasn’t because she was putting more barriers between her and Aidan. Closing the door made the bedroom feel cozier. Too bad every time she looked at the big bed she remembered curling up in Aidan’s arms last night.

Her turquoise suit hung in the closet in a plastic bag, and when she checked it, all the chocolate was gone. She unhooked it from the rod and pulled off the plastic so she could pack the suit in preparation for her next event in Denver on Monday.

As she folded it, she heard her bedroom doorknob turn, and her pulse kicked up a notch. So Aidan had given in, after all. Working to hide a smile of triumph, she faced the door. But as the door opened, adrenaline shot through her. The person coming into her room wasn’t Aidan.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Theo, dressed in an old black sweat shirt and sweatpants, closed the door behind him and twisted the lock. Then he faced her looking smug. “Hello, Emma.”

At last she found her voice. “How did you get in?” She was proud of herself for the calm way she said it, despite the painful thudding of her heart.

“I have your key.” He reached into the pocket of his black sweats and held it up.

“That can’t be mine. Mine’s—”

“Not anymore.”

Then she remembered someone had jostled her at the party. She’d had to clutch her purse to keep it from falling off her shoulder. “You were at the party.”

“No. I hired the finest pickpocket in the greater Chicago area.”

As the panic slowly cleared from her brain, she realized that although he stood between her and the door, once she called for help, Aidan would be between Theo and escape.

“I don’t know if you’ve thought this through very well. Once I start yelling, you’ll have nowhere to run.”

“I know, but I’m willing to take that chance. I’m hoping you won’t start yelling until you’ve heard what I have to say.” His gaze was earnest. “This is critical and you’re the kind of person who will understand the issues.”

Lord help her, she was eternally curious about people, and he’d just appealed to that curiosity. She’d start yelling in a minute. With Aidan’s sharp hearing, he’d respond quickly. “What issues?”

“I can tell from the way you write about werewolves that you really get them.”

“Theo, if you’re about to claim that you’re a werewolf, then this conversation is over. There’s not enough spirit glue and fake hair in the world to convince me that you’re…” She paused as he raised a hand and fur began growing on it.

Blinking, she looked again. “Okay, that’s a trick. I don’t know how you’re doing it, and it’s very impressive, but I want you to stop. It’s creepy, Theo. It’s not a turn on for me, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

“You say that now, but just wait.” He nudged off his shoes.

Damned if hair wasn’t growing on his feet, too. “Stop that, Theo! Eeuuuwww!”

“Believe me, yet?” His voice had deepened into something resembling a growl.

“Good God! What are you doing to yourself?” She stared in horrified fascination as the seams of his sweat suit ripped open. This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was seeing.

And yet…Theo was gone. Standing in his place, with bits of black fabric clinging to its black fur, was a large wolf. It took a menacing step toward her.

She screamed, and in the same instant her bedroom door splintered as a large form hurtled through it. Now a second wolf, larger and more powerful than the first, stood by the shattered door. The golden-eyed creature from Emma’s nightmare had arrived.