A Werewolf in Manhattan

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “I know.” Aidan sighed and turned to Emma. “I can’t let you onto the estate with your phone in your purse. You have to understand that no human has ever been there before, and—”

  “Never? Cool beans! I’m like a pioneer! I’m like the first astronaut to set foot on the moon!” She gazed at Aidan. “But you can’t have my phone.”

  Roarke cleared his throat. “Bro, you have to take the phone away from her. That’s the first thing Dad will ask about.”

  “Yeah. Ralph, pull over.”

  Emma gasped as Ralph hit the accelerator, cut across two lanes of traffic doing at least ninety, and swerved to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. Defensive-driving demonstration: check.

  Aidan unsnapped his seat belt. “We’re getting out, Emma.”

  “Out? Why?” She had a sudden vision of being frog-marched through the snow into a stand of leafless trees and shot through the head. But Aidan wouldn’t do that. Surely not, and if he would, then she sincerely regretted giving him oral sex on the plane.

  “We need to have a talk.”

  “Is that code for using physical force to get my phone? Because that’s the only way you’ll get it, wolf boy.”

  From the front seat, Roarke groaned. “Good luck, brother of mine.”

  “Thanks.” Aidan glanced at Emma. “Are you coming?”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  His hand closed over her arm and his golden eyes grew intense. “Get out of the car, Emma.” He paused, as if the next word cost him a great deal. “Please.”

  He was scaring her a little. “Okay, but only because you used the P-word.” She unfastened her seat belt.

  “I have a P-word for you, bro,” Roarke muttered. “Puss—”

  “Zip it, Roarke.” Aidan kept his grip on Emma’s arm as she scooted across the seat. Before she could step out, he put both hands around her waist and lifted her over a drift left by a snowplow. She dangled in the air for a moment before he set her down on a small spot of dry asphalt. “Stay there.”

  She had no inclination to move. Snow and ice surrounded her. Eighteen-wheelers roared past on the highway, and on her other side, the shoulder of the road sloped down to a gully of rocks and more snow. The trees beyond, where Aidan would have to take her if he intended to do away with her and leave her body, were a good twenty yards from where she stood.

  Aidan stepped over the snowdrift. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the slope without slipping or even breathing very hard. Being carried a few feet into the bedroom was one thing, but this ...

  She’d underestimated his strength by quite a bit. Obviously if he wanted to kill her, he wouldn’t need a gun. He could use his bare hands. Taking her phone wouldn’t be any kind of challenge at all.

  “See if you can stand here okay.” He lowered her slowly to the rocks and snow of the gully.

  She teetered a little bit, but found her balance. “Sure, but I don’t know what all this is about.” Her breath fogged the air. “I realize now you could have taken my purse away while we were in the SUV. Why go through all this if all you want is the phone?”

  “Because I want more than the phone.”

  She gazed up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His golden eyes softened. “Emma, I—”

  “You’d better not be getting frisky, because I have my limits. By the side of the road in the snow is not my idea of a good time.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! Do you think everything I do is motivated by sex?”

  She opened her mouth to respond.

  “Don’t answer that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, but his other hand continued to grip her forearm, maybe to steady her, and maybe to keep her prisoner. “Look, I’ve made no secret of my sexual needs, but I am capable of other emotions besides lust when it comes to you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like empathy. I know you’re nervous and scared about what’s going to happen next. I also imagine that you’re worried about being confined on the estate for some undisclosed amount of time.”

  “Let me keep my phone and I won’t be so worried.”

  He blew out a breath. “I can’t do that.”

  “Then you’ll have to take it from me by force.” She clutched her purse with both hands. “And I warn you, I’ll put up a fight. I won’t win, of course, but I’m not about to turn over my only means of communicating with the outside world without a struggle.” She had a sudden insight. “You didn’t want them to see you manhandle me. That’s why we’re down here.”

  “No, that’s not why. Do you trust me at all?”

  “Should I?”

  “I’m the only one you can trust. I got you into this, and I’ve promised to get you back out. Do you understand what that promise is worth?”

  “I don’t know, Aidan. You’re about to go up against your parents at the very least, and the entire werewolf community at the very most. You may be powerful, but—”

  “I will handle it.” His grip tightened on her arm. “I will keep you safe and get you out, no matter what the personal sacrifice might be.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Look at me, Emma.”

  She met his gaze.

  “I need you to know this, to believe this.” His golden eyes blazed with purpose. “Here’s the bottom line. I will protect you with everything I have ... including my life.”

  Her breath caught. All righty, then. She was going to be okay. And if she wasn’t okay because something terrible happened to Aidan, she realized she wouldn’t much care if something happened to her, as well.

  Although her fingers were numb from the cold, she managed to open her purse and pull out her BlackBerry. Silently she handed it to him.

  “Thank you.” He took it and slipped it in his coat pocket. Without another word, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the SUV.

  For the rest of the trip, Emma stayed fairly quiet, and Aidan kind of missed her barrage of research questions. Apparently their discussion in the gully had sobered her considerably. He was sorry if he’d scared her, but she had to start relying on him and stop being so damned independent, or she’d get them in worse trouble than they were in already. She didn’t know the world they were about to enter. He did.

  She perked up a little bit when they reached the rushing stream and Ralph activated the dam.

  “You operate the dam by remote control?” She stared at the quickly diminishing flow. “What if the water freezes? Come to think of it, shouldn’t the water be frozen now?”

  “Very perceptive.” Roarke sounded impressed by the question.

  That was a good thing in Aidan’s estimation. If Roarke came to respect Emma’s brain, then he’d be less likely to side with those who wanted to end her publishing career, so Emma would have another ally besides him.

  “So why isn’t it frozen?” Emma asked.

  “We heat the water in the wintertime,” Aidan said. “Not much, and we use a solar system to cut back on the environmental impact, but we have to keep it from freezing and wrecking the whole program.”

  “That’s amazing.” Emma peered out as Ralph took the SUV through the damp streambed. “Can we park on the other side so I can watch it come back?”

  “We always do, anyway,” Aidan said. “We never drive off and assume it’s working. This stream is one of the most important security features on the estate. We monitor it constantly. There’s a camera upstream that gives us a picture of what’s going on with the water.”

  Emma turned so she could look out the back window as the water came rushing back, giving it a flash-flood effect. “I suppose you have cameras all over the place,” she said quietly.

  “Yes.” Aidan had installed an upgraded system two years ago after researching various options. The cameras were top-of-the-line, and one room in the mansion housed the screens that were monitored twenty-four-seven. A squirrel couldn’t climb a tree without getting its progress recorded.

 
There would be no need to lock Emma in during her stay. She couldn’t go anywhere on the estate without being observed. The concept had to be intimidating for her, but there was no help for it. He’d do his best to make her stay short and sweet.

  That wouldn’t be the end of it, of course. Somebody from the Were world would be keeping track of her for a long time, maybe even the rest of her life. She was, unfortunately, a woman who knew too much. But that somebody watching her wouldn’t be him. He’d learned the hard way that he was not the werewolf for the job.

  The road leading to the mansion was filled with ruts, although anyone who drove it often enough could avoid all the really bad spots. Roarke had become an expert at steering his Ferrari around them without throwing his precious car out of alignment. Ralph knew the road well, too, but still a certain amount of bumping was unavoidable.

  One particular spot caused Aidan and Emma to jostle each other. Even that small contact sent a shiver of desire through him. When they had their discussion by the side of the road and he had to hold on to her to make sure she didn’t bolt, he’d wanted to carry her off into the woods.

  The closer they came to the mansion, the stronger the urge became. Life in the city tended to blunt his werewolf instincts, but he always felt a little wilder out here, a little more primitive. As the mansion came into view around a bend and through the trees, he smiled to himself. No one looking at the imposing stone facade would think of it as a wolf’s den, but that’s exactly what it was.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Emma said. “It’s huge.”

  “It needs to be for pack gatherings,” Aidan said. “You can’t see them from here, but there are stone cottages scattered all over the estate. That’s where the aunts, uncles, and cousins live. Some have places in the city and use the cottage for a vacation getaway. Others are here year-round.”

  Emma swallowed. “Am I—am I going to be brought in front of some kind of werewolf tribunal?”

  “God, no.” He realized that a person with her imagination could be coming up with a million scenarios. “We’re keeping this low-key. The only Weres you’ll be meeting at this point besides Ralph and my brother are my parents.”

  Roarke snorted. “The ’rents are scary enough.”

  “Hey.” Aidan glared at his brother. “She’s already nervous. You don’t have to make it worse.”

  “Yeah, but she shouldn’t be blindsided, either. FYI, Mom and Dad know that Nadia’s bailed on the Henderson-Wallace unification plan.”

  Aidan tensed. “And?”

  “Hard to tell how they feel about it. Dad didn’t say much, although he’s not happy with anybody named Henderson these days, so that could help your cause. Mom looked sort of sad. She’s always been partial to Nadia.”

  “I know. Nadia’s great. She ...” Aidan gazed at Roarke as a brilliant idea began to form. “Listen, she really is great. You two would get along. That would solve—”

  “That would solve nothing because it isn’t going to happen.”

  “Don’t reject it out of hand, Roarke.” Aidan was proud of his idea. “Nadia is gorgeous, intelligent, talented. Sure, she’s a couple of years older than you, but—”

  “Back off, big brother. I have no interest in getting hooked up with anyone, let alone allow myself to be tied down to some arranged deal to unite the two packs. I always thought that was bogus.”

  “See?” Emma nudged Aidan with her elbow. “Even your own brother thinks it’s a dumb idea.”

  “I do,” Roarke said, “but Mom and Dad have always been very high on it. They and the Hendersons had the whole mirror image-name thing going on. Thank God nobody tried that with me. Besides, my mirror-image sweetie would have to be named Ekraor, which just doesn’t work, does it?”

  Aidan sighed. “One brilliant idea, shot to hell.”

  “One crappy idea, relegated to the round file where it belongs.”

  “Then again, Nadia probably wouldn’t have you.” Aidan grinned at his brother. “She’s particular.”

  Roarke made a grab for him, and Aidan ducked.

  Ralph cleared his throat. “Your parents are standing at the front door. You two might want to knock it off.”

  Aidan straightened and discovered that Ralph was correct. His mother and father, both wearing their warmest navy wool coats, stood outside the mansion’s massive front door much like diplomats waiting to greet visiting dignitaries. Obviously, they’d been alerted by the security team that the SUV had arrived.

  His father stood like the imposing alpha he was, his back straight and his expression stoic. His mother had linked her arm through her husband’s as if needing some support for this meeting. She looked regal, as always, but even from this distance, Aidan detected anxiety in her expression.

  Their presence at the door underscored the importance of this moment for them. He was bringing a human into their midst, and that had never been done before. He reminded himself that they were the ones who’d demanded that Emma be brought here.

  “That’s weird,” Roarke said. “They don’t usually do the welcome-committee routine.”

  “There’s nothing usual about this visit.”Aidan reached for Emma’s hand, which was ice-cold. He squeezed it and hoped that gave her some reassurance. Then again, maybe he was the one looking for reassurance.

  Until now, he’d been the golden boy, the Were everyone expected to take over leadership of the pack when his father stepped down. He’d been groomed for that position his entire life. He’d looked forward to assuming his duties.

  Although he hadn’t always pleased his parents, he’d never given them any major problems ... until now. Bringing a human to the estate was an issue of great magnitude. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he hadn’t caused this breach in security, he still felt responsible for it.

  And yet, he knew that the real problem wasn’t the security breach. The real problem was the bond developing between him and Emma. Even he wasn’t certain how strong it had become. He was afraid to test it and find out.

  Chapter 25

  Research, Emma repeated as a silent mantra when Aidan helped her out of the SUV. The cobblestoned drive curved in front of the house, and as Emma walked along it toward the distinguished couple standing by the front door, she was reminded of a tour of Hollywood homes she’d taken while on a vacation in LA several years ago.

  This elegant two-story mansion would be suitable for any major movie star in the country. Or any head of state in any foreign country. Jane Austen would have loved this house, but a Regency home would have been surrounded by formal gardens. Instead, the forest hovered all around the house, protecting it from prying eyes.

  For this place wasn’t owned by a head of state or a member of the English nobility. It was owned by a pack of werewolves, and no human had seen it since they’d moved in. Unless she broke the trust Aidan had placed in her, no other human would ever see it besides her.

  Although she had to be careful not to behave like a reporter gathering information, she felt a certain responsibility to record every detail she could remember. She wouldn’t ever present it as fact, but she could certainly disguise it as fiction. She would get to write about this house and the werewolves who lived here, because Aidan had promised that her publishing career would continue. She was choosing to believe he’d make good on that promise.

  So she took in the butterscotch color of the stone, the steep pitch of the red slate roof dusted with snow, the twin chimneys rising high into the air, the multipaned windows catching stray beams from the setting sun, and the twin wrought iron balconies at each end of the house. She wondered whether she’d be given a bedroom with a balcony. The romantic in her had always yearned for one.

  As she neared the front door, Fiona Wallace stepped forward and held out her hand. “Welcome to our home, Emma Gavin.”

  Emma clasped Fiona’s hand and felt quiet strength there. Aidan’s mother had yellow-gold eyes very similar to her son’s, but Aidan had inherited his high cheekbones
and square jaw from his father. After Emma shook hands with Fiona, Howard Wallace extended his hand to her.

  His grip spoke of power that was all the more intimidating because he didn’t flaunt it with a crushing handshake. Here was a man used to being in command, and she sensed that he didn’t like losing control of a situation the way he’d obviously lost control of this one.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said simply. His gray eyes seemed to see right through her.

  She doubted he missed much, so she’d be wise to be perfectly honest with him. “I don’t know that I had a choice.”

  His laugh was deep and infectious, rumbling upward from his barrel chest. “True enough. But now that you’re here, let’s get you inside and find some wine and a warm fire, shall we?”

  Emma could see why Aidan’s father was such a successful businessman. He operated on the assumption that everyone agreed with his plan, whatever that might be. In this case, Emma found herself ushered inside and guided along a marble hallway.

  Someone took her coat, and then seamlessly, she found herself in a cozy sitting room where a cheerful blaze crackled in a large stone fireplace. She chose what turned out to be an infinitely comfortable easy chair, sat down, and took stock of her surroundings. Fine art, predominantly landscapes, adorned the walls. The furniture looked very Ethan Allen, but Emma suspected it was far older than that.

  She couldn’t have scripted a gracious welcome any better if she’d written it herself. Someone, perhaps a butler of sorts, appeared at her elbow and asked whether she preferred red or white. She chose red, and shortly thereafter was sipping an exceptional wine as yet another person—female werewolf, probably—served some kind of wonderful pâté on thin slices of rustic bread.

  Searching for Aidan, she found him leaning against the mantel, wineglass in hand, as he talked with his father and Roarke. Emma had been spared the burden of making any conversation for the time being, and she was grateful to be allowed to get her bearings. But such a period of calm couldn’t last.

  Fiona took a seat in the chair next to Emma’s, settled back with a sigh, and took a hefty swallow of her white wine. “How was your trip from Chicago?”