Free The Wolven by Deborah LeBlanc Page B

you decide to shower, you can toss your clothes out in the hall, and I’ll make sure they’re cleaned before you leave. When you’re done, just head back the way we came, only turn right at the archway instead of left. That’ll lead you to the kitchen. I’ll whip up something for us to eat after I grab a quick shower.”
    At the mention of food, Shauna’s stomach grumbled to life. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. “Sounds good,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She must have looked like a troll.
    With a smile and a nod, Danyon backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
    Shauna locked the door, then leaned against it for a few seconds and closed her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Despite the deluge they had walked through moments ago, it sounded like the storm was only getting started.
    Gathering up what little energy she had, Shaunaopened her eyes, pushed away from the door and went to the vanity. She gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She was beyond filthy. Her T-shirt, once blue, now looked like a bad Pollock imitation—wet, dirt smudged, and dotted with blood spatter. Her jeans were worse than her shirt. Her face, neck and arms were dirt and mud-smeared, and it looked like she’d been digging ditches with her fingernails. Seeing the filth made Nicole and Simon’s faces zoom up close in her mind’s eye.
    She couldn’t get into the shower fast enough.
    Once under the hot spray, Shauna tried not to think of anything, just feel the warmth of the water flowing over her, listen to the hiss of the spray. She had no idea how long she stayed in the shower, but by the time she got out, her fingers and toes were pruned.
    After drying off and combing her hair out with her fingers, she wrapped herself in one of the thick, terry cloth robes she found in the linen closet, then headed out of the bathroom in search of the kitchen.
    Shauna felt a little weird trekking around Danyon’s penthouse barefoot and naked beneath the robe. But better that, she figured, than stinking up the place with the dirt and grime that had covered her earlier.
    She found the kitchen a few minutes later and saw Danyon standing over a stainless steel stove, stirring a pot of marinara sauce. He wore jeans, a white unbuttoned button-down and was barefoot, as well.
    “Pasta and sauce okay?” he asked. When he turned toward her, his smile faltered. His eyes traveled quickly over her body, settled on her face—consumed her soul.
    With her heart thundering in her chest, Shauna cleared her throat. “Uh, sounds good. Anything I can do to help?”
    “You can grab a couple of plates for us if you don’t mind.” He aimed his chin at an upper cabinet to his left. “They’re up there.”
    Shauna went over to the cabinet, opened it, and saw that the plates were on the uppermost shelf. She reached up and found herself inches short of the goal, which made her laugh. At five foot eight, people usually asked her to retrieve things from high shelves.
    “Ah, sorry. I keep forgetting that the rest of the population isn’t six-five.” Grinning, Danyon turned the burners off on the stove and walked over to her. “Let me help you with that.”
    Standing behind her now, Danyon reached up and over her head and plucked two plates off the shelf. Then he froze, plates still in midair.
    Shauna felt like those plates, locked and hovering in space. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. Although Danyon hadn’t pressed against her, hadn’t even touched her, she still felt heat from his body radiating through the bathrobe and onto her back. It soaked into her skin, vibrated, stole her breath. Whatever resonated between them was so strong, it blocked off the rest of the world. Shauna heard nothing but his breathing. She saw nothing—felt everything. Her body suddenly ached with a need that transcended the physical, a need that encompassed her entire being. She feared even twitching lest