Free Roman's Gold (Underground Heat, Book 1) by Ann Gimpel

right around puberty. It might be easier then, or harder. I just don’t know.” She spread her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry. I know it seems like the end of the world—”
    “It is the end—of my world, anyway,” he growled. “May as well stop by the station house and turn in my badge. It’s better than being in the middle of working a crime scene with a partner and turning into a mountain lion.” His hands fisted in his lap.
    An idea took root. “Maybe you could work for our side—” she began.
    He shook his head. His hair flew around his face. “I can’t talk about this anymore. None of it.” He lurched to his feet and stumbled into his clothes. His eyes looked haunted. “Is there a back way out of here? I don’t want to see any more people than I absolutely have to. Not the shape I’m in.”
    She nodded, got to her feet, and wrapped herself in a robe. “This way.” She wanted to talk to him, to reassure him, but he had such a closed look on his face, she thought it best not to try. He wouldn’t hear her anyway.
    She led him into her small, personal room behind the bedroom and ran her hand over the electronic lock. “It’s just down the stairs. The door at the bottom unlocks along with this one.”
    Devon turned to her. He pulled her roughly against him. “This is my own fault.” His voice rumbled against her hair. “I wanted you so much, I broke all the rules.” His arms tightened. “Don’t worry, Kate. No matter what happens, I won’t turn you in.”
    He kissed her forehead, turned, and ran down the steps. Once she heard the bottom door close, she activated the lock and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It smelled like sex, shifter sex. Raw and musky. Her eyes welled. He was the best, the most perfect shifter she’d met in several human lifetimes.
    “He’s our mated one!” her cat crowed. “Let’s go after him and bring him back.”
    “No, it can’t be. You’re just lonely—like me.”
    “I’m right,” the cat insisted. “That’s why you shifted spontaneously.”
    Kate ignored her. Shifter mates were scarce as hen’s teeth. It was why so many of them married humans. Besides, Devon didn’t want her, not anymore. He had when he’d shown up on her front porch, and pretty badly. If the price for sex with her was shifting, though, all bets were off. She’d seen it in his eyes: horror and disgust with what he’d become. No, if he were truly her shifter mate, he’d have welcomed her with open arms.
    “You’re wrong,” the cat insisted. “You caught him at a bad moment. Give him some time to get used to the idea—”
    “Stop. Just stop. How could my mated one be a cop? They’re the enemy. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”
    The cat subsided into a grumbling snarl.
    Kate went on autopilot and stripped the bed. It was either that or curl in a ball on the floor and howl her misery. With her arms full of bedding, she started for the small washer and dryer. His scent filled her nostrils. She buried her nose in the sheets and changed her mind about washing them—at least for now. If his smell was all she had left of him, she wanted to hang onto it. Her heart ached. So did her pussy, but it was a sweet pain.
    Kate did a slipshod job making the bed. A few minutes later, she stood in the shower. An idea shot through her as hot water sluiced down her body. She didn’t understand all the ramifications, but there had to be some. Once she was dry and dressed, she settled at her computer terminal and called the underground on their secure frequency. Max’s face appeared on her screen.
    She sketched out what had happened with Devon. It wasn’t easy because Max kept interrupting. A tall, lean man with Germanic features and shoulder-length blonde hair, Maximillian Sigayev gestured with his hands while he talked. His blue eyes were intent, gaze never leaving her. In his animal form, he was a Russian wolf with an almost white coat and the same sky-blue eyes. He steepled