Werewolf in Manhattan

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  In the meantime, she suspected he’d sown his share of wild oats. He enjoyed sex with a gusto that suggested plenty of experience with the endeavor. In that case, why didn’t he want to sow a few more with her this weekend?

  He didn’t though. She’d bet her next royalty check that he’d come into her bedroom with the express purpose of calling a halt to their fun and games. She’d barely beat him to the punch.

  The more she thought about that decision on his part, the happier she became. He’d decided to back off for the same reason she had. The sex had been too intense for both of them. While she was afraid of losing focus on her career, he was afraid of becoming so attached to her that he wouldn’t be able to honor his duty to his family.

  Greatly cheered by that conclusion, she located her purse and her satchel containing her book signing materials before walking out into the living room exactly at the fifteen-minute mark he’d set.

  He paced in front of the unlit fireplace, his phone to his ear. The remnants of his breakfast sat on a tray on the coffee table.

  Curious, she took inventory. He’d had coffee, too, but from the looks of the plate, he’d had steak and eggs instead of chocolate cake. Made sense. He was a big guy who would need to support all those gorgeous muscles with the right kind of fuel.

  She didn’t mean to eavesdrop on his conversation, but short of retreating to the bedroom again, she couldn’t very well help it. Oh, hell, she might as well admit she’d been straining to hear what he was saying from the minute she’d realized he was on the phone.

  Years ago she’d accepted the fact that writers were notorious eavesdroppers. She got some of her best story ideas that way. Add to that her natural curiosity about anything to do with Aidan, and she became the human equivalent of a wiretap.

  “Sure, Nadia. We’ll be at the bookstore about one this afternoon. I’d love to see you. We should have time for coffee during Emma’s signing. See you then.” He disconnected the call and turned to Emma. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She fought the urge to ask him who Nadia was.

  He gestured with the phone. “Somebody I’ve known ever since I was a kid. She’s going to drop by the signing.”

  “Great.” And she knew, just knew that Nadia was a potential candidate for this arranged marriage deal. He’d known her since he was a kid, which meant the two families were close. Emma read the tabloids, and she was aware that wealthy families socialized with other wealthy families, even if they lived in cities as far apart as New York and Chicago.

  Instantly Emma hated this Nadia person who was colluding with Aidan’s family to imprison him in a loveless marriage. True, he was going along docilely, but apparently he’d been brainwashed from a young age. The whole concept just seemed wrong.

  Wrong as it was, though, it was none of her business. Having one really steamy night of sex with a man didn’t give her the right to meddle in his personal life. This situation wasn’t a plot point in one of her books. She couldn’t simply rewrite the script to suit her view of the world.

  Yet she obsessed about the unfairness of it all during odd moments when she didn’t have to concentrate on something else, like one of her two radio interviews or her morning TV appearance. Aidan accompanied her to all of them and stayed in the background. They didn’t talk much in the car, either. After the easy banter they’d shared on the plane and their sexual abandon with each other in the suite, their silences were awkward.

  Emma didn’t know what to do about that. The day’s schedule marched steadily toward the one o’clock bookstore event to which Aidan had so graciously invited Nadia whatever. Maybe her last name was Rockefeller or DuPont.

  Emma secretly hoped she’d turn out to be a dull and colorless woman who could hardly wait to get her hands on a specimen the likes of Aidan. That would further justify Emma’s indignation, to think of Aidan shackled to someone who would bore him to tears during their first week of married life.

  At the bookstore Emma snagged another coffee drink to keep her courage up for the reading session ahead. She dreaded the reading portion of the event far more than the autograph session. Signing books and talking to readers was gratifying, even if it wore her out. But listening to herself read her own words aloud was pure torture because she never got over the urge to edit her work, even after it was finished.

  Still, she was expected to read, so she did. It wasn’t that she never knuckled under to satisfy others. But she wasn’t into self-sacrifice, which Aidan seemed to be. Ordering his entire life to further his family’s ambitions made no sense to her. As one o’clock drew near, the prospect of reading before an audience took on extra significance because Nadia would be there, Nadia the albatross around Aidan’s neck.

  Emma tried to imagine that Nadia wasn’t thrilled about the arrangement, either, but any woman would take one look at Aidan and think to herself I want some of that. She certainly had.

  As the time for the reading approached, Aidan stood to one side of the rows of chairs and talked with the bookstore manager. Emma pretended to scan the passage she would soon be reading while watching him from the corner of her eye. Yep, he was certifiably gorgeous. Nadia couldn’t possibly be upset about her fate.

  With five minutes to go, the chairs had filled and newcomers were forced to stand. Emma was gratified by the turnout, which was a constant source of amazement to her. When she wrote a book alone in her loft, she had a difficult time imagining all these people reading it. But they did, and for that she was very grateful.

  Aidan hadn’t made a move toward any of the women who’d taken a seat, so Emma didn’t think Nadia had arrived yet. Then he turned, as if sensing the arrival of someone. It was the oddest thing, as if he knew she was coming before she even arrived.

  Emma felt a pang of something that just might be jealousy. Maybe he had a bond with this childhood friend that was so strong he felt her before he saw her. Emma couldn’t expect to compete with that.

  Or that. When Nadia rounded a bookshelf and started toward Aidan, Emma groaned softly in dismay. The woman was stunning. She moved like a runway model and she had the figure of one, too. Tall and fashionably slim, she was dressed in an elegant silver jacket and skirt that provided an eye-catching contrast to her long black hair. Grey eyes and thick lashes gave her an exotic look that any man would find intriguing.

  As Aidan gave her a hug, Emma felt as if someone had dunked her heart in ice water. These two obviously belonged to an exclusive club, one to which Emma would never be invited. Aidan wouldn’t dread spending his life with this glorious creature. They were made for each other.

  Emma should count herself lucky that she’d been able to spend one night in Aidan’s arms. Now that Nadia had shown up, Aidan might very well forget that Emma existed. She had to laugh at herself, thinking this morning that she’d had a decision to make as to whether she’d have more sex with Aidan. It had never been up to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Nadia arrived, Aidan didn’t sense more than one werewolf in the area, so her brother Theo hadn’t tagged along. Good. He needed to talk with Nadia alone and find out what she knew about her younger sibling’s mental state. Having her come to the bookstore served a dual purpose, though. It would also remind him of his responsibilities to the pack.

  One glance at Emma told him that she got the picture, which was another reason he’d wanted Nadia to attend the signing. He’d made so many mistakes regarding Emma, and he’d never be able to atone for all of them. But he could start setting the record straight now.

  He deserved her anger and resentment, both of which he saw etched on her beautiful face. Having those emotions directed at him sliced into his heart, but he would bear it. The more she disliked him, the better off she’d be.

  He smiled at Nadia. “You’re looking great.”

  “So are you.” Her gaze was friendly, but there wasn’t a flicker of passion in those grey eyes.

  “Let’s get some coffee.”

  “Okay, but I want a book b
efore I leave, and I want her to sign it.”

  “Then let’s buy one before we get the coffee. She might sell out.” Aidan led the way through the rows of bookshelves and snagged a copy of Emma’s book on the way to the cashier’s counter.

  After paying for it, he handed it to Nadia. “A small thank you for coming down here.”

  “I was happy to. I’d heard you were in town and I was hoping we’d get a chance to catch up.”

  “Then let’s get some coffee and do that.”

  Within minutes they were seated across from each other at a small bistro table, steaming lattes in front of them. From Aidan’s chair he could glance sideways and look between a row of bookshelves to the spot where Emma stood reading from her book. She’d chosen a forest green knit dress today, and he’d decided it was his favorite.

  “She’s very pretty,” Nadia said.

  “Who?” He faced Nadia and tried to look innocent.

  “You know who.”

  “I’ve been hired to keep an eye on her.”

  “So you said.” Nadia looked amused.

  “Anyway, thanks for showing up on short notice. I hope I didn’t screw up your work schedule.”

  “Nah, I needed the break. I’m in the middle of designing my fall collection and I was sick to death of hunching over the drawing board trying to think of a coat style that hasn’t been done to death. This is nice.” Nadia cupped both hands around her latte. “So, what’s going on between you and Emma Gavin?”

  “Next question.”

  “Oh, so you don’t want to talk about it.” She took a sip of her latte. “That’s not very sporting of you.”

  Aidan blew out a breath. “I misjudged there. Too much heat between us. This morning I gave her the talk about my family’s expectations.”

  Nadia’s grey eyes warmed with sympathy. “I know what that’s like. I’ve given that speech to a few guys. I suppose she thought you were nuts to go along with such a thing.”

  “Yeah, she did. Let me ask you something.” Although no one was sitting close enough to hear the conversation, he lowered his voice out of habit. “Have you ever resented the idea that you’d eventually have to marry for the good of the pack?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Meaning?”

  Nadia kept her voice low, too. “It means I’ve never found anyone, man or Were, who was worth the pain of challenging the system.” She took another drink of her latte. “Since you’re asking that, I’m wondering if you have.”

  Aidan quickly shook his head. “Nope. Just an idle question.”

  “You’ve never struck me as the kind of guy who asks idle questions. Coming on the heels of you giving Emma that speech this morning, I have to wonder if she means more than you’re willing to admit.”

  “She can’t mean anything to me. She’s human.”

  Nadia leaned closer to him. “It’s not as if Weres have never mated with humans, Aidan.”

  “I don’t know any personally.”

  She sat back. “I do. I guess you’ve never met my Uncle Lenny.”

  “No.”

  “He fell hard for a Las Vegas showgirl, and now Aunt Trixi is part of the family. Last year she taught me and my cousin Judy how to twirl tassels with our nipples. In opposing directions.”

  Aidan laughed. If he were the least bit interested in Nadia, that tassel-twirling comment would be a turn on. Instead he just thought it was funny. “Now there’s a marketable skill if I ever heard one.”

  “Yeah, it was fun.” She glanced at his latte. “You’re not drinking that.”

  He’d completely forgotten it was there. He shoved it aside. “Did your aunt continue to dance in Vegas?”

  “No, of course not. She moved here. She and Uncle Lenny have a house on the estate up in the Dells.”

  He lowered his voice again. “Virtually under house arrest, I suppose.”

  “I think she was at first, but now she’s allowed to visit her family in California and stuff like that.”

  Aidan tried to imagine Emma voluntarily giving up her writing and allowing her existence to be monitored by the Were community. It would never happen, not in a million years.

  “So much depends on the person involved and whether they’re adaptable,” Nadia said.

  “Right.” He shook his head. “Let’s get off that depressing subject. There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  She sighed. “My obnoxious little brother.”

  “He’s fixated on Emma.”

  “I know. He has all her books, and he boasts about how they’re friends.”

  “They’re not.”

  “Of course they’re not. Theo’s delusional. He moved into the city this summer and he spends way too much time alone in his little apartment. I hate to say it, but I think he’s got some revolutionary ideas going on.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “He’s mentioned several times that Emma understands us and would want us to be free of what he calls stupid restrictions.”

  Aidan groaned. “Oh, yeah. Let’s go back to the days of being hunted with torches. That would be lots of fun.”

  “I’ve tried to tell my dad that we need to do something about Theo, but whenever I suggest that he could bring us down, my dad says all young alphas are high spirited. Then he accuses me of being in competition with him because one of us will be in charge someday.” She shivered. “Having Theo in charge is one scary thought.”

  “Obviously Theo needs an alpha male to set him straight. And soon, before he drags Emma into this and causes everybody a big problem.”

  “My father should be the one to handle him, but I guarantee he’s not going to. I would if I could, but I can’t buck my dad on this.”

  “Then it looks like it’ll have to be me.”

  Emma looked up when she finished reading the passage from Night Shift. Aidan and Nadia still sat in the coffee shop, their heads close together as they carried on what was obviously an intense conversation. Aidan and Nadia. One name was the mirror image of the other. Their parents must have planned it that way.

  She felt like a naïve fool. From the beginning she’d known Aidan was out of her league. He’d never pretended otherwise. She’d told him that some recreational sex would be just hunky-dory.

  Except it wasn’t so hunky-dory now that she understood how fleeting that experience had been. No man had ever excited her as Aidan did. What if she never found another guy who triggered that kind of uninhibited response? Was she doomed to settle for second best?

  “Miss Gavin?” A bookstore employee touched her on the elbow. “Are you ready to autograph books, now?”

  “Oh!” A line had formed in front of the table, and because Emma also stood in front of the table, she was face-to-face with the first person in line, a grandmotherly looking woman dressed in purple sweats.

  Emma smiled at her. “Hi, there.”

  “Hi, yourself, sweetie. You looked so sad just now. I hope everything’s okay.”

  “Everything’s wonderful. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just move around to the other side of the table so I can sit down and autograph your book for you.”

  “Take your time. My name’s Sylvia. Say, I’m so excited about the party tonight. I didn’t make it last year, but I’ll be there this time. I’m coming in costume.”

  “The party.” Emma had totally lost track of what she was supposed to be doing after the book event. Seeing Nadia had torpedoed her thoughts.

  Then she remembered. “Oh, the party.” She had one more radio interview this afternoon. Then from seven to ten tonight she’d be the guest of honor at the monthly meeting of the Werewolves and Wine Club, which convened in a private room above a bar in downtown Chicago not far from the Palmer House. The members were all avid readers of anything werewolf-related, and she was a popular author with the group.

  She’d attended once before, and most everyone came in some sort of werewolf costume. Emma appreciated their enthusiasm, but she had decided prior to her fi
rst visit to the club that she wouldn’t do the costume thing. Her decision had been the same this year, too.

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you there, Sylvia.” She slid the autographed book back across the table.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “A black dress.”

  Sylvia looked surprised. “No fur of any kind?”

  “I want to make sure everyone knows who I am.”

  “Oh, right. That makes perfect sense.” The woman reached over and patted Emma’s hand. “See you there. And for the record, I love the way you write sex scenes.”

  “Thank you.” Emma hoped she’d remember Sylvia by the time the party rolled around. But then again, maybe she wouldn’t recognize her in a werewolf suit.

  Nearly an hour later, all the books were gone and Emma had signed several book plates for those who weren’t able to buy a book. She’d chatted with the bookstore manager and expressed her gratitude. Time to wrap things up. As she signed one last bookplate for a latecomer, she became aware of Aidan and Nadia standing off to one side of the autograph table.

  Nadia held a book in her hand. Well, that was classy of her, to buy a book even if she hadn’t arrived specifically for that purpose. Emma knew full well she’d come to see Aidan.

  The two of them walked over to the table after the last autograph seeker left.

  Aidan spoke first. “Emma Gavin, I’d like you to meet Nadia Henderson.”

  Emma blinked. Theo’s last name was Henderson, but surely that was a coincidence. She held out her hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Nadia.”

  “Same here. I hope you don’t mind signing one more book.” She laid a copy of Night Shift on the table.

  “Not at all. Thanks for buying it.” Emma was determined to be gracious to this woman who seemingly had everything—looks, money, and a future with Aidan Wallace. Jealousy was a terrible emotion and Emma wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to be, but she wasn’t. She longed to leap across the table and close her hands around Nadia’s lovely throat.