Roarke got dressed faster than Abby did, so he quickly hauled out his safety razor and managed a quick shave. He’d worried about scratching her this morning, but he was also thinking of the future. He still had much to explore when it came to Abby.

He’d promised himself to kiss all her freckles, and he hadn’t done that yet. He also had hidden riches to taste. He’d hate to irritate her sensitive thighs while he was savoring those riches.

By the time he’d finished with his shave, Abby had her clothes on and was putting her hair in a ponytail. The gesture reminded him of last night in the rain, when she’d worked shampoo into her hair and caused her breasts to quiver with the motion.

He’d be wise not to spend too much time thinking about last night, or the hot wetness of her this morning, when she’d insisted she wasn’t willing to have sex with him. She’d been more than willing, and he’d known it. She couldn’t fool him when his excellent sense of smell gave him all the information he’d ever need about her readiness.

To think he’d expected Donald’s presence to slow them down. Hell, he’d very quickly realized he wanted to make Abby cry out during sex so that Donald would have no doubt Roarke was the alpha male around here. Even someone as geeky as Donald brought out Roarke’s need to mark his territory.

But he hadn’t gone into the cave with sex on his mind. He’d only meant to see if Abby was awake so he could let her know his plans regarding Donald. Then he’d walked in on a werewolf’s fantasy—a naked, voluptuous woman on her hands and knees, facing away from him on the stone floor of a dimly lit cave.

On top of that, her scrubbing action had made for some interesting hip movement, almost as if she were taunting him with her availability. Of course she hadn’t been. She didn’t understand the sexual subtleties of a werewolf’s mind, and probably wouldn’t have time enough to explore them.

But thinking about Abby on the cave floor still got him hot, even though he’d just had sex with her. She had no idea what a temptation she’d unwittingly presented this morning. He deserved credit for not taking her on the spot.

Sure, that action would have had serious consequences for both of them, but unexpectedly discovering her on all fours had awakened powerful instincts that he had trouble taming. He was already half in love with her, and that combined with lust could easily have trumped logic.

Somehow he’d controlled himself. But when she’d continued to stand there in all her naked glory, he’d decided to claim his consolation prize. As consolation prizes went, it was a pretty good one, and certainly a safer route than the action that had instantly flashed into his head when he’d first glimpsed her bare and very provocative backside.

“All righty.” Abby walked over as he was stowing his razor in his backpack. “I’m ready to meet Donald.”

“Okay. I’m thinking after we get the introductions out of the way, the next step is coffee and breakfast.”

She smiled at him. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”

“You could say that.”

“You shaved.” She touched his jaw. “Was that on my account?”

“As a matter of fact.” He cradled her face in both hands and tipped it up so he could examine her freckled skin. “I irritated your skin a little when I kissed you this morning. I feel bad about that.”

“No worries. I think you look kind of dashing with stubble.”

“Thanks, but stubble gets in the way of certain activities.”

“Like kissing?”

Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers. “Like that. And…other fun stuff.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

“Then imagine this.” He put his mouth close to her ear and told her in graphic detail what he had in mind for the next time they were alone and naked.

“Roarke!” She pulled away from him and pretended to look shocked, but her eyes grew dark and sparkly. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

“I never claimed to be. I’m a werewolf, Abby. We have voracious sexual appetites.”

“That’s an understatement.” She fanned her pink cheeks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you of deliberately planting that idea in my head so I’d think about it all day.”

“Me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Will you think about it all day, Abby?”

“Probably.”

“Good.”

* * *

Abby stepped out of the cave into the pearl-colored light of an overcast day. Mt. Hood, the most dominant feature of the area on a clear day, was still covered. But no moisture fell from the sky. She almost missed being pelted by raindrops. From now on, a rainy day would remind her of being here in the woods with Roarke.

“Ah, there you are!” A pudgy guy in a bright orange sweat suit jumped down from the rock he’d been sitting on and walked toward her. His fluorescent green ball cap carried the slogan Bigfoot Lives! across the crown.

She stepped forward and offered her hand. “I’m Abby Winchell. And you must be Donald Smurtz.”

“You’ve heard of me?” He pumped her hand enthusiastically. Behind thick lenses his eyes were a pale gray with surprisingly beautiful dark lashes.

“From Roarke.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you’d read some of my articles in Cryptozoology Today. I’m multi-published in that journal.”

“Sorry.” She extricated her hand from his grip. “I’m new to the study of Bigfoot. So you came up here all by yourself?”

“I did.” He puffed out his chest. “I thought of taking along my peeps on this quest, but then I told myself Donald, my boy, strike out on your own.”

“Self-reliance is a good thing.” Abby glanced over at Roarke, who was standing to one side, arms folded, as he watched Donald’s performance.

The performance obviously wasn’t over. Donald lifted one finger toward the sky. “I said to myself, be your own person, Donald Smurtz! Take that equipment you invented and prove that you’re an engineering phenom. Follow your heart!” Punching his fist into his chest, he promptly doubled over in a coughing fit.

Abby moved toward him. “Are you all right?”

“Sure. Probably got some fruit leather caught in my throat.”

“Let me help.” Abby moved into position and whacked him between the shoulder blades, but nothing popped out of his mouth. She pretended not to notice. “Better?”

“Much.” Donald took a deep breath. “That fruit leather can be wicked stuff if you get a piece crosswise in your windpipe.”

“I’m sure.”

Donald straightened and adjusted his ball cap. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“For what?”

“Hel-lo. Marriage? Holy matrimony? The tie that binds?”

Roarke stepped forward and put his arm around Abby. “You’ll have to forgive my bride. She’s still not accustomed to thinking of herself as a married woman, probably because the rings I ordered never arrived. So no engagement ring for Abby and no wedding rings for either of us.”

She took note of how easily he created that story to explain the absence of rings. He was a smooth one, this Roarke Wallace. His story about not needing condoms better not be just another smooth lie. If she turned up pregnant with shape shifters, there would be hell to pay.

For the time being, though, the arrangement was pure heaven. For the first time in her life, she could enjoy spontaneous sex. She thought about what had happened recently in the cave and wondered if Donald had heard any of it.

He pulled the hem of his orange sweat shirt down over his rounded hips. “I just want to say, for the record, that I appreciate you two inviting me along on what was obviously intended as a private journey to find Bigfoot. I wouldn’t have dreamed of intruding, except Roarke insisted.”

“Donald has amazing equipment,” Roarke said.

Abby couldn’t resist. “So do you, dear.”

Roarke stared at her and actually blushed.

“Pardon us, Donald.” Abby smiled up at Roarke, who was definitely giving her the evil eye. “A little honeymoon humor.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Don’t mind me.”

Roarke cleared his throat. “Anyway, Donald, my brother’s an expert in surveillance, but I think he could learn a thing or two from you.”

Donald preened. “Have him give me a call. I’m always willing to share my techniques. Is your brother a Bigfoot aficionado, as well?”

“He dabbles,” Roarke said.

“Ah.” Donald rocked back on his heels. “I’m well acquainted with the weekend Bigfoot hobbyist, but they’re not like you and me, are they?”

“No.” Roarke gave Abby’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’re hard-core.”

“You and I are the kind of guys who will come up with the goods, get the confirming evidence, enlighten the unenlightened. After this, we might get some talk-show gigs, Roarke. I’m thinking Letterman.”

“You know what?” Abby stepped away from Roarke. “I think I’ll go grab the camp stove and some supplies so we can start the coffee. Roarke, would you like to help me with that?”

“Sure thing, Abby.”

She marched back to the cave and shoved her way through the bush guarding the entrance. Instead of holding it for him, she let it snap back and was pretty sure he got a shower. He mumbled something, but she didn’t try to figure out what it was.

She waited until they were both able to stand before whirling to face him. Although she was fuming, she kept her voice low so Donald wouldn’t hear. “He’s a total nutcase! What were you thinking, inviting him along?”

“He has equipment. You should see the dish he has. It’s small, but extremely powerful. Battery operated. He’s an engineer, so he very well could have built it himself. The guy’s probably some sort of genius.”

“I don’t care if he’s Albert Einstein! He’s the kind of guy who will find Bigfoot and broadcast his findings to the world. Did you hear him? He wants to get on Letterman!”

“I suppose he’d like to, but—”

“Exactly! After what you’ve told me, that should be the last thing you want for these fragile beings. I don’t get this at all!”

Roarke glanced at the cave’s entrance, as if to make sure Donald wasn’t coming through to check on them. “He’ll never see Bigfoot. I’ll make sure of that.”

“How? You describe these amazing listening devices, which he could be using right this minute to hear what we’re saying. You do realize that.”

Roarke pulled a wire out of his pocket. “I asked him to show me how it works, and while I was examining it, I unhooked this. I’ll put it back at some point, but I can always pretend I was fooling with it and didn’t realize this was an important part. Don’t worry. I’ll make up whatever I need to in order to protect us.”

She wished he wasn’t quite so good at doing that, but she’d deal with that issue later. “Okay, so if we need his equipment to help us track Bigfoot and his mate, how can you utilize his equipment and keep him from seeing those creatures?”

“You’re going to help me.”

She stared at him. “I assume that means you have a plan.”

“I’m working on one. Trust me, Abby.”

Folding her arms, she looked down at the floor beneath their feet. “I just listened to you come up with a lie to explain why we were honeymooners with no rings on our fingers. Then you show me the wire you filched from his listening device. You do these things so easily, and it made me wonder…” She glanced up at him. “Would you have created a similar story to make me think I would see Bigfoot, too? Or worse yet, would you have lied about not needing to wear condoms to get the sex you wanted?”

He groaned. “God, no. Yes, I made up that story about the rings, and I certainly swiped a critical wire from Donald, but I’m not making up the things I tell you.” He sent her a pleading glance. “What can I do to convince you of that?”

“I don’t know. When all is said and done, what do I really mean to you, beyond a few rounds of good sex?”

“You mean a lot more. That’s what I was trying to say when I mentioned getting attached.”

“But you won’t allow yourself to do that, not really. You have your werewolf future and I won’t be part of that.”

“You hold my future in the palm of your hand.”

“Do I really, Roarke? Let’s say I tried to convince people that I’d been hanging out with a werewolf, and that werewolves were everywhere, especially in high society. Who would believe me?”

He gazed at her for a long time. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re not the type to do something like that and risk harming others.”

He had her pegged, all right. He was safe from her, but was she safe from him? As she looked into his green eyes, she wanted to believe that he shared that same reluctance to harm others. “It’s just that you can be so glib.”

“I have a quick mind. I was born that way. But consider this, Abby. As a werewolf, I have to be constantly on the alert to protect myself and others of my kind from detection. In order to function in your world, yet maintain my other life, I need to be glib or risk exposure.”

She could see some truth in that. “But can you choose when to lie and when not to? Or do lies jump to your mind automatically?”

“I can choose. And with you, I choose to tell the truth.”

“Once I forced your hand with those pictures, you had no choice.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment of that. “True. But as you now realize, the more you know, the greater your personal danger. If I could have lied my way out of that lunchtime confrontation with you, I would have.”

“To protect yourself.”

“And to protect you.”

She regarded him silently for several seconds. Finally she sighed. “I want to believe that. All right, Roarke. I will believe that. I’ve trusted you with my body, and there’s no turning back on that score. My family’s known for its fertility, so if you’ve misled me, we’ll have a bouncing baby…something…in nine months.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

She didn’t want a pregnancy, either, and yet he’d just underscored the finite nature of their relationship. Someday he would have a child with another werewolf, and Abby would be a distant memory. She pretty much hated that.

She drew a calming breath. “Are you planning to allow me to see the Bigfoot pair?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” She’d have to trust him on that, too. “Then what about this Donald character?”

“Once we get close enough that I can cover the distance in about an hour as a wolf, we’ll create a distraction that keeps Donald in camp with you.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know that yet. Be thinking about it, okay?”

Despite herself, Abby began to get into the spirit of the game. “I can do that.”

“I know you can. You’re very smart. So, with you distracting him, I’ll shift, make contact with the Bigfoot pair, and set up the procedure for relocation before returning to camp and shifting back.”

“Then what?” She noticed there was no provision for getting her to the Bigfoot camp or for spiriting Donald away from it.

“I don’t know that yet, either. I’m hoping it will come to me.”

“But you will let me see those creatures, right?”

“You have my word. We’re in this together, Abby.”

She half expected him to pull her into his arms and try to convince her of his sincerity with a soulful kiss. When he didn’t do that, she realized he wasn’t trying to manipulate her into believing him.

“Okay, Roarke. I’ll help you as much as I possibly can.”

“Thank you.” His response was low and quiet, and he didn’t grace her with one of his oh-so-charming smiles.

Maybe she could trust him, after all. Either that or he was a lot slicker than she thought, and she already believed that he was a very, very clever werewolf.

“Well, that’s that.” She glanced around the cave. “We’d better gather up the stuff for breakfast and head outside before Donald thinks we’re in here boinking again.”

“Now there’s an idea.”

“Hey!”

He backed away, palms extended. “Just kidding. Believe it or not, I do think of other things now and then.”

She laughed. “Then that would be one of us.”