First Bite is the Deepest: Dances With Werewolves Book Two

by Nora Snowdon

  “You’re kidding? He doesn’t do interviews. He didn’t even when he was on that show.”

  “I know. My editor, Dani was so excited when I told her. Of course, then she wanted to send Kaity along to take pictures.”

  “You said, no, I hope.”

  “Of course! I’m not stupid.” I shook my head, then stopped when I realized she couldn’t see me over the phone. Kaity was nice, but she was a guy-magnet. After the Christmas party two years ago, no one would ever bring their boyfriend to an office function again.

  “Did you offer to sell him the picture if he agreed to be interviewed?”

  “I said I’d consider.” I glanced in the mirror again. Damn, I looked business casual instead of hot date. It’d be nice if Leanne might’ve at least considered that Robert would ask me out without bribery, but she was right. If he hadn’t bitten me—or I didn’t have his family photo—he wouldn’t have given me a second glance. I opened my closet again. Nope, I didn’t have anything even a little bit sexier to wear. Double damn.

  “Well hang on to that stupid picture for as many dinners as you can. And don’t let him take you anywhere cheap. The guy is loaded as well as gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. I will.” The doorbell caused me to close the closet. Too late to change outfits now, even if I had something better. “I gotta go. He’s at the door.”

  “Good luck!” Leanne sounded a lot more enthusiastic than I felt now as I trudged to the door.

  Even distorted through the peephole, Robert was drop-dead gorgeous. His suit looked expensive and he’d shaved. He glanced impatiently to the left. Was he worried someone might guess he was on a date with me?

  Oh for heaven’s sake, I needed to get my insecurities under control. This wasn’t even a real date. He was here to talk me into letting him help me transition as he called it, into a werewolf—I shuddered at the concept, it was so not me—and I was going to get an interview for my magazine. Attractiveness didn’t even come into the picture. I smiled and then opened the door.

  Robert turned to look at me and heat slid up my face at his quick appraisal.

  “Good evening, Ella.” His smile was one of those devastating ones he’d used so well to his advantage on the TV show. “You look beautiful.”

  Oh crap. My face was now in full blush mode. I could probably pass for a stop light. “Thanks. You too.” Shit! “I mean…” Shut up before you make it worse.

  “Thank you.” He appeared unfazed by my awkwardness. “Ready?”

  “Sure, I’ll just grab—” I ducked inside and slung my little black purse over my shoulder. Breathe. Remember, this is not a date, you’re interviewing him. I gave him a smile before punching in the alarm and locking my door. I took the arm he offered feeling a bit like an actor in a Jane Austin movie. Maybe my imagination was getting ahead of me, but I swear I could feel his arm muscles through the layers of his jacket and his shirt. And they felt rather nice.

  “You have an elaborate security system here. Are there a lot of break-ins in this neighborhood?” His expression was doubtful as he peered at the row of matching one storey and two storey bungalows on my street. He probably assumed people in this kind of housing didn’t have much expensive stuff to steal. Certainly not by his standards.

  “No.” I tried not to sound defensive. “It’s a good area. I’m just cautious.” I waited while he opened the door to a cute little sports car, and then I slid onto the leather seat. He jogged to the driver’s side. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat on the man and his cheekbones looked even better without the stubble he’d been sporting the last time I saw him.

  “So where are we going?” I asked as his car rumbled to life.

  “You’ll see.” He winked before returning his attention to the road.

  I waited, not wanting to distract him while driving, but then the silence got to me. I pulled my mini spiral notepad and pen out of my purse. “How did you first get involved with Designed by Colbert? Did you approach the producers or the other way around?”

  He sighed. “You’re going to hold me to that interview, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” Now we were more on my territory.

  “A couple of California TV producers approached my dad asking if Colbert Enterprises would like to donate goods for a new design show they were developing in exchange for advertising. Since I’m the promotions and marketing manager, I went in to negotiate. Next thing I know I’m filming an audition tape, I get an agent and I’m replacing the actor they’d used in the pilot.”

  “Who’d they fire?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t say. It wouldn’t be fair to the actor.”

  “Did you get any offer of acting jobs after the show got cancelled?”

  “A couple. I didn’t think I’d be good at following a script so I turned them down.” He eased into the left turn lane. “What about you? Why’d you become a journalist?”

  “Rebellion, I guess. My mom wanted me to marry and have a bunch of kids. She’d even chosen my mate.” Oops, too much info?

  Robert turned to stare at me. “Don’t you want to get married and have children?”

  “Married? Maybe. But definitely not children. I’d be a terrible mother. But this is supposed to be about you, not me.”

  A slight frown marred his features. “Well, it’s a date as well as an interview, so I should get to ask questions, too.”

  “A date?” Frig, my voice came out squeaky.

  “I put on my best suit; I sure hope it’s a date.” His playful grin made me laugh. “And if we run out of time to do both, we could always schedule another dinner.”

  He wants to see me again? Yes! Okay, play it cool. “If it’s a date, we should wait to see how it goes before agreeing to see each other again.”

  He stiffened back into his seat. Had I insulted him? I thought I was giving him a way out. Suddenly I felt like my GPS, “recalibrating.”

  When in doubt, make the guy talk about himself. That makes them think you’re a good conversationalist. “Did your brother or father ever ask to be on the TV show?”

  He raised his eyebrows looking resigned to my questioning. “Nah. Lucas is shy and Dad wasn’t too thrilled with me doing the whole TV show idea in the first place. He worried I might accidently reveal something.”

  “Like that you’re a werewolf? That would’ve shot your ratings through the roof. Some nutballs would actually believe it and everyone else would tune in to see what other crazy things you might say.” I laughed.

  “Hey, I’m serious. We have to be careful what we say and do. If anyone ever suspected and started digging, well it could be dangerous. And now that you’re a werewolf, you’ll have to watch out, too. You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  “No. Of course not. My friends would think I was crazy. Heck, I’m not sure I’m totally sane myself at this point.” I watched again as he took another turn off the highway. “Wow. How far are we going for dinner?”

  “Not much further. You said you wanted somewhere good.”

  “I didn’t mean in California.”

  He reached across and tweaked my ear. “You’re like a little kid. ‘Are we there yet?’”

  I pouted. “Am not.”

  Luckily he laughed. I wasn’t sure about his sense of humor yet. “If this is a date—”

  “—It is.” He shot me a stubborn look.

  “Then I take it you’re not married or seeing anyone.”

  “I’m seeing you tonight. Are you going to put that in your article?”

  “No! I’d hate it to look like the only way I could get to interview someone was if I slept with them.”

  His lips turned up in a sexy smile. “Are you going to?”

  “What? Oh.” My jaw dropped when I realized what I’d said. Then came the burning heat. Damn, my face must be glowing, again. “I didn’t mean…” I glanced out the passenger window hoping my face would cool down. Jeez, even my ears were hot.

  I jumped when his hand landed on my shoulder
.

  “I’m just teasing. But you did walk into that one.”

  Does that mean he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Shoot, no wonder I don’t date, I’m lousy at it. Heck, I’m not much good at interviewing either. His fingers massaged my shoulder. I prayed he wouldn’t have to shift gears anytime soon. “Mmm.” Frig! Did I say that out loud?

  I checked my list of questions. “Were you the popular jock type in school?

  His hand left my shoulder. Was that a sore spot? “No. I was a loner. I didn’t like school and the kids didn’t like me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Who knows? I lived in a big scary house. I’d been a biter as a little kid and that terrified my parents. It wouldn’t have looked good if there suddenly were a slew of four year old werewolves. So they wouldn’t let me socialize with other children until I had to go to school. Then the kids teased me because I really didn’t know how to relate to them. I got beaten up regularly on the walk home. At first I just took it, but in grade four I hit back. That’s when I started changing schools.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Everything we go through shapes us. What about you? Were you the cheerleader or the artistic type?”

  “Neither. I was a loner, too. I was different but luckily I mostly got ignored.” I glanced over at him, curious. “Hey did you have a secret hiding spot?”

  “You mean for hiding things?”

  “No. I mean where you’d hide yourself when you didn’t want to be found.”

  “Yeah.” His smile widened. “In the ravine in back of my parents’ place there’s a tiny cave hidden by a rock and bushes. I once hid in there for two days, but then my food stash ran out. Scared the hell out of my family. How about you?”

  “Trees. There was a park back home that had my favorite hemlock tree. I would climb it and hide there for hours writing.” Wow, someone who understands.

  “Do you still hide in trees?”

  “No…Well.” He was being honest, I should be too. “Only if I have to. Luckily I live by a park so I don’t have to go too far.”

  “I think I designed my den in the basement as a replacement hiding spot so it’d be more convenient.” He geared down and signaled right. “We’re here.”

  MaRosa Restaurant. We pulled into the half empty parking lot. Rather like a stone mansion with just a discreet plaque at the door indicating it actually was a restaurant. The massive coniferous trees surrounding the parking lot also gave it more appeal. He whipped into a small parking spot, cut the engine and hopped out, like he was trying to beat me to opening my door. No contest as I couldn’t even see how to operate the door handle. It probably was a European model car.

  I looked at my note pad. He wasn’t quite the person I thought he’d be. Again, recalibrating.

  The next trick was getting out of the sports car in a dress. I scooted my knees around first and then slid one foot out. Grabbing his offered hand, I hauled myself up without banging my head. It wasn’t particularly ladylike, but at least I didn’t fall over. Small mercies.

  He locked the car and then his arm slid around my waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  It wasn’t. The heat from his body enveloped me, and I craved more contact. I resisted the urge to ease in closer. Even if he wasn’t the jerk I’d first assumed, I shouldn’t give him too much encouragement or he’d assume I was planning to sleep with him.

  Although judging from his brief shoulder massage, he’d probably be a good lover. Jeez, what the hell was I doing? A gorgeous guy touches me and right away I’m thinking about sex. I’ve obviously been celibate for way too long. I glanced up at him out of the corner of my eye. Was he thinking about sex too?

  ****

  Robert placed his hand on the small of Ella’s back to guide her as they followed the maître d’ to their table. She flinched at his touch and he wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. Between the blushes and the defensive banter she’d been giving him mixed signals from the start of the evening. Was she turned on by him but turned off by his wolf form? Then again, she hadn’t seemed to like him at the auction before she knew his true nature. One way to find out… He leaned over to her and murmured, “What are you thinking?”

  “You know, with the dark wood, green paint and dim lighting in here, this is kind of what I think a werewolf would design.”

  Robert snorted in surprise then glanced around. “You may be right, but my family didn’t have a hand in the decorations. Maybe some other pack.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I should hope so. Otherwise it would get rather incestuous.

  “Oh, yeah.” She slid onto the chair he held out, watched him sit, and then pounced with her next question. “Did you try for any other shows after yours got cancelled?”

  The persistence of a pitbull. “No. I did just get a call from a producer last week about a new show. I’ll have to see what they propose.”

  “Did you have any weird encounters with fans during the show’s run?”

  “Oh yeah. Not exactly fans, but I was picketed by some naked ladies protesting my promotion of leather furniture. I didn’t get why they were naked, but the company said it was great publicity.” He held up his hand again. “Wait! My turn.” Great, now he couldn’t think of anything “date-like” to ask her.

  Their waiter, a slightly tubby, innocuous man, sidled up to the table in time to save him and he got a reprieve from her questioning while they ordered. After the waiter had left she took a breath as though preparing for her next line of inquiry.

  He jumped in first. “Do you miss your family?”

  “What? Oh, well there’s just my mom and she disowned me when I was twenty.”

  He reeled back in shock. His mother was controlling and could be cruel, but she’d never disown any of them. “That’s awful. Why?

  “I wouldn’t go for her arranged marriage.”

  He shook his head. “But you’re not—I mean…” Hell. How to ask it politely? “Is your mom religious?”

  “No. It’s hard to explain.” She pursed her lips in thought. “You ever feel like your family’s trying to control your life?”

  “They do.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And I control theirs. It’s part of being a pack. We all love and care about each other.”

  She cocked her head as if not really believing him. “What about your love life? Do they interfere in that?”

  “They tried to, but, uh… I had an accident when I was younger and can’t have children.” It was always good to get that out there. Although she said she didn’t want children, you couldn’t be too careful. Plus some women seemed to take his “disability” as a challenge. “Not that I can’t enjoy trying… but now it’s up to my brother to carry on the family name.”

  “I’m sorry. That’d be tough if you wanted kids.” She reached across the table to touch his hand. Unfortunately that was just the moment the waiter reappeared with their dinners. She shot back into her seat looking embarrassed as the waiter placed their plates on the table.

  “Mmm, smells fabulous.” She smiled at the waiter.

  He watched the waiter leave then turned to her. “Enjoy.”

  “Likewise.”

  She dug into her food and he paused a moment to enjoy her enthusiasm. Watching her eat, he could almost taste her seafood pasta as she closed her eyes and swallowed. He imagined her with that same look of anticipation and contentment laying across his bed. And what sounds would she make? Ever since she’d mentioned sleeping with him, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else. As she opened her eyes he swiftly focused on his own T-bone steak before she caught him staring. His steak was perfectly prepared but his appetite was elsewhere.

  “And how is everything?” The waiter had, true to form, waited until he had a mouthful of steak before asking.

  “Delicious,” Ella answered then glanced at him for confirmation.

  “Mm-hmm,” was the best he could manage.

  Afte
r the man had trundled off, Ella dissolved into a fit of giggles. “I swear waiters practice that timing. I always try to take little bites until they ask so they don’t catch me off guard.”

  “Smart woman.” Robert took a sip of his wine.

  “Or I eat out too much because I’m too lazy to cook.” She smiled what seemed like her first totally carefree smile since he’d met her. She was pretty when she wasn’t guarded or nervous.

  “Too lazy, or not a good cook?” He grinned. “I’d cook more often if what I ended up with tasted better.”

  She shrugged. “I can cook some good meals. But I prefer to leave the mess in someone else’s kitchen. Crap. That sounds terrible. I’m glad you’re not interviewing me for an article. I’d have to lie.”

  “Is that an option here?”

  “Sure. Everyone lies about some things. If a reporter you hadn’t bitten came up and asked if you were a werewolf, you’d lie. And earlier today I told my editor that you’d said no to any photographs.”

  He paused before taking his next mouthful. “Why?”

  She blushed a pale pink. It must be hard to lie with such translucent skin. “Our photographer is a sex kitten. I figured you two would run off together and I’d get stuck with the bill.”

  He laughed. “Now you’re being too honest. Besides I’d never do that. Werewolves aren’t exactly fond of kittens, sexy or not.”

  A look of doubt crossed her face then she smiled. “Phew. Because I haven’t the foggiest idea where we are or how I’d get home from here.”

  “Right.” He shook his finger at her. “So don’t you be asking me any tough questions, young lady.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes shone with mischief. “And what am I not supposed to ask you about?”

  “That’s sneaky but I won’t bite.”

  “You already did, that’s why we’re here.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Her fork paused en route to her mouth and she eyed him with suspicion. “How many other people have you bitten?”

  “What? No, you’re the only one. And that was an accident after you kicked me. We’re not allowed to turn people into werewolves, it’s too risky.”