Bless him.
I’ll bear that advice in mind , Liv thought, trying to
remember which underwear she’d put on that morning, and led Trouble with a
capital T to her apartment.
I’m such an idiot.
* * * * *
As they stood outside her apartment and Liv fumbled in her
purse for her keys, she wondered what the hell she was doing. Was it too late
to kick him and run? Then she had the strangest sensation.
Cal smells trustworthy.
What the hell did that mean? She wrinkled her nose and
sniffed. There was some enticing scent in his vicinity. She caught herself
sniffing again and pretended to cough. Was insanity catching? He looked at her,
his eyes bright with amusement and…something else.
Hunger. Desire. Lust.
Oh God.
Liv wasn’t into brief encounters. She was fed up of them.
Fed up of being let down by guys who said they’d call and never did, fed up of
guys telling her it wasn’t her it was them, fed up of lies and rudeness. She
always had such high hopes when she met someone new, which meant she fell even
harder, crying her way to acceptance when it was over, but…it had been a long
time since she’d been out with anyone. She had needs. Cal was gorgeous. If he’d
just keep his mouth shut.
Well, not all the time.
Her fingers played with her keys inside her purse.
“Can’t find your keys?” he asked.
He was trustworthy. He wouldn’t hurt her. Which planet am
I on?
“They’re here somewhere.”
Liv shook her head to try to shake sense into her brain.
She’d led a guy who thought he was a werewolf to her apartment door. Still not
too late to change her mind. She could pretend to throw him a ball and dash
inside. Or she could call Creepo to the rescue. Maybe not. Or she could take a
risk. The thought made her heart pound.
Liv worked in insurance. She didn’t do risks. She calculated
and assessed before she dipped her toes into the water, literally and
figuratively. Liv had never been caught out by a cold swimming pool.
“I swear to you, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
Probably the last words heard by the victims of Ted Bundy.
Cal raised one eyebrow. Liv was a sucker for guys who could
do that. Goddamnit. He was fulfilling all her fantasies.
She had the keys in her hand. Open the door, right. That
scent— oh God— mint chocolate chip ice cream? Her favorite. Steak followed
by ice cream, followed by… Oh darn it, why not? She unlocked the door,
motioned for him to go in and sniffed as he passed. Yummy.
“Kitchen’s just ahead,” she said. “You can’t miss it. The
ice cream can go in the freezer.”
He frowned. “I haven’t brought ice cream.”
Liv wrinkled her brow. Then what could she smell?
“Want me to go and buy some?” he asked.
“No, it’s fine.” She was such a pig with mint chocolate
chip, it was better if she ate it in private. No way would she share. Not even
with Mr. Wolf. “Please cremate my steak.”
He winced but didn’t argue, so he got a point for that.
“Wine?” He lifted a bottle of claret from the bag.
Another point. Liv took two glasses from the cupboard and a
corkscrew from a drawer. After she’d put the flowers in water, she turned her
music system on low, perched on a stool and watched.
“Can you talk while you cook?” she asked.
“I’m brilliant at multitasking.” He grinned, poured the wine
and turned on the grill. “See, four things.”
“But not math. That was three things.”
“Four, I was thinking of something as well.”
He winked, his eyes darkened and Liv went up in flames. She
glanced at her feet, almost expecting to see fire shooting from her toes.
“So how long have you believed you’re a werewolf?” she
asked.
Maybe there was way she could talk him out it, because it
was such a waste of a great body, lovely voice and handsome face.
“It’s not a matter of belief. I was born a werewolf rather
than made.”
Liv emptied half her glass in one gulp. “You can make a
werewolf?” She refrained from adding—with a ball