Page 135 of Taming the Beast

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“I spoke to Maggie first. Maggie told Muriel, and Muriel suggested that I talk to Adam.”

“Muriel?”

“Mm-hmm.” Swallowing hard yet again, she pointed to the settee, indicating he should get on it.

He tried to think of any reason why he shouldn’t comply, but nothing floated to the front of his mind.

He crawled achingly to the settee and climbed on.

She immediately unfurled the blanket over him.

Both coughed at the raised cloud of dust.

“Warmer?” she asked.

He shrugged, but she couldn’t see his movements, so he cleared his throat and said, “I’m cold down to my bones. I may need more.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.” She started pulling away, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him.

“No.” He lifted the corner of the blanket and nodded to the sliver of surface beside him. “If you’d loan me your company, I’ll warm faster.”

She dragged a hand through the hair that at some point in the day had come loose from its bun and shifted her weight.

“I understand this is unorthodox,” he said.

“That’s putting things mildly.”

“But are we not different than others? Do we not have to make allowances for what we are and cope, in spite of the fact that this world would prefer that we fail?”

“Are you telling me to abandon my standards?”

“No.” He gave her a gentle, but pleading tug down toward the settee. He needed to feel her skin against his—needed to feel something real and warm. And something that was his.

She could be his mooring.

“You needn’t abandon your standards, whatever they may be. I’m merely asking for help. If my nudity offends you, I apologize. Somewhere in this dusty pit, I have spare clothing, though if I shift again…” The word was somehow sour in his mouth. “I’ll ruin them. I would have to go without until you could fetch more for me.”

“And that’s less than ideal.” She let out a tittering breath and pushed her hair back from her eyes. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t have a problem with nudity, and especially not yours.”

“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m certain you’re well aware of what you look like when your clothes are off.”

“Of course, though you sound as though I spend an inordinate amount of time in that state.”

“If I did, I didn’t mean to. I apologize.”

“You’re stalling, sweet Mary.”

“What?”

“Please.” He gestured to the space on the settee yet again. “Would you like a promise that I’ll be a gentleman?”

“A gentleman and a wolf.” She laughed and, gingerly, perched on the edge of the seat. “Quite a combination.”

“Perhaps I’ll let you finish your interview.”

She grimaced. “Could you believe that just that quickly, I’d forgotten what I came here for?”


Tags: Alyse Zaftig Paranormal