Heart of the Wolf by Cherise Sinclair

Author:Cherise Sinclair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VanScoy Publishing Group

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Walking into the Shamrock, Heather almost did a dance of joy. The dark hardwood floor gleamed as did the brass lamps on the walls. The tables and chairs were in place. Dishes had been delivered. The staff had been hired. And the whole town was delighted to have the restaurant open again.

The scrumptious aroma coming from the kitchen made her stomach growl.

Since the restaurant would open this Saturday—four days away—Madoc had been testing his menu to ensure he had everything he needed, and all the equipment worked. Mmmm. Today must be pizza day.

Talking him out of a slice or two shouldn’t be difficult. The male loved to feed people—even her.

No, the disgruntled thought wasn’t fair to him or her. He didn’t dislike her. He simply treated her with the same distant politeness he used with any female younger than an Elder. As if he’d never kissed her, never played with her breasts, never been inside her.

She couldn’t even resent his behavior since it was the same way she wanted to treat all the males in all the world.

Yet, when he walked out of the kitchen, her heart still sped up, even though it’d been well over a week since the full moon.

By the Gods, she had fewer brains than a pixie.

His courteous smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Heather, what’s up?”

“Nothing for you. I have to drop off some paperwork for André.” She returned his smile. Politely. “I just came in this door to see how everything looked over here.”

“Ah.”

“The restaurant is beautiful, Madoc. From what I’m hearing, the place will be crowded on opening night.”

Feeling her eyes prickle with tears, she strode quickly across the room, escaping through the shared double doors to the gift shop.

She almost ran into André.

“Heather, how—” His smile died. Setting her bag on the floor, he pulled her into his arms. “Ma chère, what has hurt you?”

The sympathy in his dark resonant voice almost undid her, and she blinked hard to hold back the tears. “N-nothing.”

He made a French sound in the back of his throat, a huffed noise disputing what she’d said.

“No, really. I’m fine. It was a…a female moment.”

“I see.” He looked past her, through the open door to the restaurant. “I suppose we can leave it at that. For now.”

She started to relax.

“And you say you feel fine. I’d have to agree—you truly do feel fine.” He drew her closer, right up against his hard body, illuminating exactly what he meant.

Her hands closed on the steely bulge of his biceps, and she found herself totally breathless at how good it felt to be held.

All week, he’d been moving closer, holding her hands, stroking her hair, touching her face. Whenever she saw him, the flirtatious dance made her senses tingle and heated her body.

And here she was in his arms and couldn’t think of anywhere else she wanted to be. Except, no, she wasn’t going to do this. “André.” She tried to put a protest in the word—and realized it came out throaty and entreating.

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