Free Werewolf in Denver by Vicki Lewis Thompson Page A

door, it would have banged into the wall. Gusts of frigid air and swirling snow enveloped Kate and made her wonder what the hell she’d been thinking when she’d suggested bringing in a load of firewood during a blizzard.
    She put her hand on the door. “Let’s lock up and forget the wood!”
    “Nay, we’ll have a fire. Hold on to the door. I’m letting go.”
    She used both hands this time.
    Lowering his head, Duncan walked into the teeth of the storm. “Put your weight against it to hold it closed, and open it when I call out.”
    She did as she was told because Duncan, bless his lust-warmed heart, was out there gathering wood for the fire she’d requested. She couldn’t deny his gallantry, even if she suspected his motives.
    Soon she heard his command to open the door. She gripped the knob with both hands this time as he came through with his arms full of sweet-smelling cedar and his topcoat and dark hair covered with snow once again. She tried not to think of what his wet shoes and socks had felt like when he had to put them back on. He was sacrificing his physical comfort for her, no doubt in the hope it would win him points. It did.
    Throwing her weight against the door, she shoved it closed and locked it.
    “Well-done.” Duncan turned and walked back into the living room with his armload of wood. He didn’t even glance at the velvet-draped bed.
    If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d dismissed it from his mind. But she knew better. He was a strategist, and she felt reasonably sure that his goal was to get her into that bed. His current tactic was pretending that he didn’t particularly care if he did or not.
    The bed and the mirror were added temptations she hadn’t counted on. Duncan himself was potent enough without adding embellishments like that. At some point she might have to throw up her hands and accept the inevitable outcome.
    But not yet, by God. She, too, ignored the bed as she started out of the room. But then she allowed curiosity to guide her through a door leading to the bathroom. After seeing the bed, she wasn’t surprised at the black Jacuzzi, or even the European bidet. Black towels, thick and sensuously soft, hung on heated towel racks, although the heat wasn’t on at the moment.
    “Kate?” Duncan called out to her as he walked back into the bedroom. “You’ll never guess what I found tucked away on the bookshelf.”
    She turned from the bathroom doorway. “X-rated movies?”
    “Aye! How did you know?”
    “It goes with my new image of the Stewarts.” She gestured to the bathroom. “They’re very sensual people. I wouldn’t be surprised at much of anything we found now.”
    “Nor would I.” A smile was in his eyes as he held her gaze. “Nor would I.”
    “You’re thinking they have sex toys stashed in a drawer, aren’t you?”
    His smile reached his sculpted mouth. “Yes, but we won’t be looking for them, lass. I’m not above having my way with you in that fantasy bed, but I draw the line at borrowing vibrators.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “That was a two-part statement. Which part are you glad about? If it’s the first half, then—”
    “The second half. About not borrowing vibrators.”
    “Too bad.” He winked at her. “If you want to come back into the living room, I’ve lit your fire.”
    She couldn’t help laughing. “You’re incorrigible.”
    “So I’ve been told.” In silent invitation, he swept an arm toward the door into the living room.
    She walked in and discovered that he’d refilled their wineglasses and set them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She’d halfway expected that he’d have one of the X-rated movies on the flat screen, but it was dark. Maybe he was saving that for later.
    “Thank you for the fire.” She took off her coat, gloves, and hat.
    “I enjoy pleasing you.”
    She didn’t miss the underlying message in thatstatement, either. After walking into the kitchen and laying her things over a chair,