… like having a real father.”
Her tiny sigh pierced him like a dart.
“I thought they both loved me as if I were their real child, until my second year of school when I knew I wanted to become a veterinarian. My foster father threatened to stop paying my tuition if I changed majors. Animal doctors weren’t as skilled as real doctors.”
Maggie’s gaze dropped to the counter. “I couldn’t force myself to comply with his wishes so they cut off all contact with me. It was challenging, but I had a few scholarships and worked through school as a phlebotomist.”
Nicolas steeled himself against the rising urge to take her hand and give it a comforting squeeze. “Your foster father was wrong. It takes a special skill, and empathy to treat animals. Animals don’t talk, and can’t communicate with words as to what’s wrong.” He gave a wry smile. “But in many ways, they’re easier to be around than people.”
A little laugh escaped her. “You think so, too? I had to force myself out to come here. Sometimes I don’t want to be around people, especially men. They can be such wolves.”
Nicolas raised a questioning brow.
“Not you. You don’t have that wolfish demeanor. I like you. No one else would have cared if one of those men hit me. And you’re very cute,” she blurted out.
A radiant flush tinted her cheeks. Nicolas was utterly enchanted.
“I’ve studied wolves, you know,” she confessed.
He raised a dark brow. “Oh?”
“As an undergrad. My major was zoology. I spent a summer out West working with a conservation program relocating wolves. It was fascinating watching them work as a pack. Real teamwork. Did you know that, in a pack, the beta wolf is responsible for ensuring the alpha male’s orders are carried out?”
“I’ve heard something about that,” he murmured.
She cocked her head, looking adorable. “I’m babbling. It’s the wine. I shouldn’t have had that second glass.”
Pulling out a wad of bills from her pocket, she tossed them down on the bar. Maggie stood on wobbly legs, swaying like a palm tree in a head wind. Nicolas stood, laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll take you home.”
Auburn curls flew as she shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a short stagger down the beach.”
“Then I’ll stagger with you.” He took her elbow, steadying her as she slogged through the soft sand.
“Besides, I have to keep you safe from the Big Bad Wolf.” Nicolas winked. Maggie laughed. It was a gurgling laugh that reminded him of crystalline streams tumbling over rocks.
Wind combed through her hair. Darkness thickened, draping the beach in ebony. Yellowish light from beachfront homes and towering condominium buildings cast oblong pools on the sand. Above them, a canopy of stars glittered like tiny jewels. A sailboat, blue light bobbing atop its mast, drifted as it headed south for the inlet.
He guided her around an abandoned beach bucket threatening to trip her. Had Maggie ignored her night vision, or did the fact she never experienced the change dim her wolf senses?
Sand kicked up in little eddies as they walked. They wended through a small stand of palms. Maggie paused before a tidy, two-story whitewashed house. “Thank you for seeing me home.”
She leaned against a swaybacked palm trunk, lacing her hands behind her. Clearly in no hurry to say goodbye, leaving him standing in the dark. His night vision showed interest flaring in her deep blue eyes.
She didn’t want to end the evening. Neither did he.
“Been my pleasure, Dr. Maggie.” He sketched a courtly bow. Straightening, he winked. She laughed again, stopped, searching his face.
“It’s odd but I feel like we’ve met before tonight.”
“Perhaps we’re destined to be together,” he said softly, watching her.
Nicolas placed a hand on the trunk, above her head. Leaned just a little closer. Close enough to drink in her delicious aroma. Spice. Something fresh, floral like wildflowers. And the gut-clenching scent of female arousal.
That adorable frown line dented her brow. “You said you came here to visit a friend, and that she’d be more than a friend before the night ends.”
“I did,” he said softly. Nicolas brushed away a lock of silky hair from her cheek. “It’s you, Maggie. I came here to seduce you.”
She drew in a deep breath, blue eyes darkening. “You’re very charming. Are you like this with all woman?”
“Just you. Only you, Maggie.” He cupped her chin, tilted her head up to meet his penetrating gaze. “You’re the only one for me.”
Her lush mouth parted. “It’s odd. I truly do feel like we know each other. As if it’s meant to be. Do you believe in destiny? One person, your missing half, destined to be with you? But what are the chances of it happening?”
“I do. You know what they say. You have to kiss a lot of wolves to find Mr. Right,” he murmured.
“I thought it was kiss a lot of frogs?”
He shot her a cocky grin. “Would you rather kiss a frog?”
“No,” she said, a little breathlessly. Nicolas watched the pulse beat at the base of her throat. Fast. Faster. “I’d rather … kiss you.”
Against the coconut tree’s rough bark, he braced his hands on either side of her, pressing her against the tree. “What do you want, Maggie? This?”
He lowered his head, and his mouth claimed hers.
It felt electric, hot, as if all his nerve endings centered on the contact between their lips. He savored the tangy taste of wine and her innocence. Her mouth was pliant, soft and silky beneath his. Nicolas cupped the back of her head, deepened the kiss. His tongue plunged into her parted mouth, thrust, imitating the sex act. She hesitated, reached out in turn, flicking her tongue over his.
He drank in her essence, her spice, tasting her life, all her hopes, dreams.
Passions.
Nicolas felt himself flowing into her, his internal essence trickling like water into her spirit. First contact … prelude to mating, when they’d exchange magick powers, and become fully one. Each lost half joined as in Old Times, before the Draicon split themselves in half to willingly lessen their powers before they became too powerful. Too dark. Too … evil.
Nicolas groaned as she writhed against him, pressing her hips against his. Maggie. His Maggie. His free hand stroked her body, teased, explored.
Sweetness. Spice. His hand delved between her thighs, cupped her in hard possessiveness. Nicolas rubbed, wanting to give her hot pleasure. She whimpered, twisted, ground her hips against him. Maggie pressed closer to him. As if she couldn’t wait to get inside him.
He
