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Authors: Mary Hughes

BOOK: Heart Mates
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His pupils dilated until his eyes were pure black, riveted to her mouth. “You’re the gor—the woman in the picture.”

What had he been about to say? Gorilla? Gourmand?
Gorgeous?
“What picture?”

“Your aunt has a photograph of you.” He released her hand to slide a finger under her chin.

All her breath expelled. Without oxygen, she let him tilt her face to one side, then the other. The throbbing in her lips intensified.

His lids lowered, lazy with promise. “Your nose is longer than I expected.”

Wow. Just what a woman wanted to hear. “Thanks.”

“It’s a good nose. Honest. Elegant. I like it.”

Instantly the throbbing was back, but she pushed it away, mirrored it by stepping back. “An honest, elegant snout is still a snout.”

He followed her. “Your nose is unique, like your scent. Exotic. Deeply enticing.”

He was right on top of her. She stared up into eyes glowing between lids slit, not in suspicion, but heavy-lidded with intent.

The intent to kiss her.

Chapter Three

Any words forming in her brain never made it to her mouth as his lips claimed hers.

Male. Exciting. He dazzled all her senses, the scent of crisp cotton and fresh outdoors, the taste of dark and wild magic. His lips caressed her, soft and sweet, while the spear of his tongue blazed. Her sighs were underscored by his pleased growls.

Awash in him, her heart thudded and her blood sang. Bursts of pleasure sparkled like firecrackers. She lifted on her toes for more.

His kiss slanted and deepened, the wild taking of the wolf but also the mastery of the man, one who knew how to give a woman what she wanted. Her mouth opened and his tongue plunged. His fingers threaded in her hair to pull her closer. Their bodies melded like two candles dripping hot wax.

Mason cleared his throat.

Noah stiffened. Lifted his head with a soft sigh.

Without the liquid caress of his hot, expert mouth, Sophia’s sanity returned.
What had she done?
Witch and shifter…no, not,
never
. She gathered enough tattered willpower to step out of his arms.

“I’m sorry…” Her voice was breathy. Damn singing hormones. She tried again. “I’m sorry that happened.”

He stepped back too. “Why?” He crossed his arms, his biceps and pecs bulging. “I’m not.”

She swallowed her tongue, totally forgetting why she should be sorry. Oh yeah, shifter/witch taboo—but he wouldn’t know she was a witch. And even if he did, he wouldn’t care. Most shifters pretended the Witches’ Council didn’t exist.

“Hey,” Mason said. “I didn’t want you two to stop. I just wanted to let you know that if you’re going to get
friendly
—” Mason’s grin was so big Sophia wanted to punch him, “—I’m heading out now. There’s a couch in the office. Lock up when you’re done.” He lumbered off.

“Stars,” she said. “What was that all about?”

“He’s encouraging me to find a wife.” Noah grimaced.

Noah wasn’t mated.
Yes
. No. None of her business.

But poor Noah. He had his own Aunt Linda, nagging for the pitter-patter of little paws. Although with the confident way he stood there, bigger and badder than anything, it was hard to feel
too
sorry.

Noah thrust his hands in his pockets. It framed all that was glorious. “I should go too.”

“Wait. I wanted to talk with you.”

“Why?”

“Why? Um, well, the reason I wanted to talk with you is…” What had she wanted to ask? Are you dating? What’s your phone number?
What size condom do you wear?
She rubbed her eyes. “My aunt. Linda.” She dropped her hand and met his silver gaze. “I think you were the last person to see her. Do you know where she went?”

“I’m sorry, no. She left the bookstore when I did, but she didn’t share her plans with me.”

Disappointment gnawed Sophia’s gut. “Can you at least tell me if she was okay?”

“Yes.” His response was immediate and reassuring. “Don’t worry about your aunt. She was fine. A little flustered, but fine.”

He’d seen her worry and didn’t hesitate to comfort her. He must be a very good alpha.

“I’m relieved to hear it. What about that boy my aunt called you in for? Was he still in the store at that point?”

“Marlowe? The boy is my responsibility. I can assure you he will be punished and your aunt reimbursed. In fact, if you want to get repairs going, I’ll personally vouch for the funds.”

“Thank you.” All that muscle, and responsible too. Some little she-wolf was going to be very lucky someday. “But that’s not what I meant. I’d like to talk with him. Do you know where he lives?”

Something shuttered in Noah’s gaze. “The boy left before I did. He knows nothing.” The reply had “back off” stamped all over it.

As if that would stop her. She gave a mental shrug. She’d have to get the boy’s address another way. “I’d better get back to the bookstore. If you think of anything, come see me, okay? The sign will be Closed, but I’ll be there.”

“You and me. Alone.” His molten gaze ran over her, chasing a shiver from her head to her toes and back again, lingering on her lips so long she had to work not to lick them. Finally he said, “Let me get this straight. You want me, a stranger, to come to the bookstore, where we’ll be alone—after what just happened between us?”

Put like that, reinforced by his hot all-over gaze, it sounded like an invitation to ravish her. “Uh…yes?”

He shook his head, more disbelief than a no. “You’re temptation on a stick. I’m not quite that masochistic.”

“Me? Have you been chewing Viagra?” She considered herself, banker chic in navy-blue pants suit, pumps and pearls. “I’m no cover model.”

“I’ve never cared for
eau de airbrush
. Believe me, your real beauty is far more alluring.” His eyes fired white-hot on her, a beastly hunger that was pure
wolf.

That look promised instant ravaging. Hot, hard, animal sex.

She swallowed all the way to where she was wet. She wasn’t completely certain she’d stop him.

He took a single step toward her. Her heart thudded…he inhaled, so deep his fine nostrils flared. His hands fisted with a second breath. Then he relaxed and the man was in full control again. “Good luck finding your aunt. I’ll see you out.”

She turned toward the door, not trusting herself to speak. Hesitated. The way to the exit was a dark blob. She’d stared at the bright shop light too long.

He put a hand on her spine to steer her out.

His big, hot hand. It seared her back, so fiery her lungs seized up.

He didn’t seem to notice. As he urged her toward the door he said, “Look, I understand you’re worried about Linda. I do have resources that might help. I’ll give you a call later.”

“Thanks.” Sophia tried not to jump on that. Noah Blackwood, unmated, was far too tempting. Never mind not encouraging
him
. She didn’t want to encourage herself. “But I’ll manage.”

Sophia needed to find Marlowe’s address but without a last name, a simple Internet search might not net her the right boy shifter. Fortunately the town’s premier news source, the Misses Jamies, was on her route back to the store.

Matinsfield had changed since she’d been here last, a new Green W drugstore on the corner and a SuperDuperPriceCutter past the ballpark, but the sisters still lived in their brownstone in the center of town.

If there was any truth to the zombie rumor, they always would.

It was full dark. Sophia zipped from streetlamp to streetlamp, trying not to look victimish, alert for hooded men. But every shadow seemed to stir and by the time she hit the Jamies’ front walk her heart pounded and her breath rasped. Relief flooded her when Miss Almira, tall and thin with long front teeth and shoe-polish black hair, threw open the door.

Relieved too soon. Almira latched onto Sophia’s arm and dragged her inside like a snake taking a frog. “You’re finally here. Have you gotten the Uncommon’s door fixed?”

“I was going to call—”

“Gladys Louise will do that.” Almira raised her voice. “Gladys Louise! Get Frank Fixit on the line.”

Heavyset Miss Gladys Louise, short wavy blonde hair going gray, eyes small and bright, bustled in with a tray of cookies and lemonade. Almira and Gladys Louise were a set of fifties’ sitcom spinsters in twinsets and pleated skirts whose noses twitched at the slightest hint of gossip.

“Sophia! Sit, dear, sit,” Miss Gladys Louise piped. She always piped. “Wonderful that you came. Now Noah doesn’t have to handle this problem all on his own.”

Noah
. Sophia’s lips vibrated in memory. She pressed her fingers to them to still them—found them soft and swollen from the wolf’s kiss. Her cheeks flushed with heat.

Almira gave her a narrow-eyed, arched-eyebrow stare.

Sophia grinned and pointed. “Oh look. Is that lemonade? I’m awfully thirsty.”

Almira gave a little
hmph
. “Gladys Louise?”

“Make sure she tries the chocolate chip cookies, Almira.” Gladys Louise set the tray on the table and poured. “I whipped them up fresh. I’ll go call Mr. Fixit now.” She bustled out.

The broken-down car had made the trip long and dusty, and Sophia was thirsty. Nothing to do with alpha-buzzing lips at all. She picked up a tall sweating glass and took a big gulp.

And promptly sucked her uvula into her nose. Gladys Louise had flavored it with a dash of lemon zest—and a quart of brandy.

Coughing, Sophia set the glass down. She managed, “I don’t suppose you know where Aunt Linda is?”

“No. Did you ask Noah?” As Almira spoke she filled a small plate with cookies and set it in front of Sophia.

“He hasn’t seen her since the kid from his group broke into the store—a local named Marlowe, who I want to ask about Auntie. Do you where I can find him?”

“Marlowe lives just past the gas station.” Almira’s mouth pinched as she pointed east. “You don’t want to go there, though.”

“I don’t? Why not?”

“Is tomorrow good?” Gladys Louise stuck her head out the kitchen door, an old-fashioned handset complete with curly black cord at her ear. “Eight a.m. is Mr. Fixit’s first opening.”

Sophia grimaced. “Could he come tonight? I’d pay extra.” Auntie didn’t believe in indoor locks, and her wards were off during store hours—from after supper until three a.m. Sophia wouldn’t do any sleeping in an unsecured house with that hooded guy lurking.

Mr. Kibbles wasn’t much of a watch cat.

“I’ll try, dear.” Gladys Louise disappeared back into the kitchen.

Sophia set down her glass and picked up a cookie. Her fingers sank in. “Why shouldn’t I visit Marlowe?” She tried a bite. It melted in her mouth.

“You know I’d never gossip or say an unkind word about anyone.” Almira nibbled a cookie.

“Of course not.” Unless it was followed by an
I’m kidding
or a
bless his soul.
Then even the most poisonous declaration was somehow okay.

Sophia stuffed two cookies in her mouth to stop her from saying any of that.

“Not a mean word…but Marlowe is the exception. He has a problem with wandering fingers. Cash, jewelry—women. His brother, Killer, is even worse.”

Sophia swallowed hard. “Ah.”

Almira
tsked.
“You’re going anyway, aren’t you? You Blues always were stubborn women.”

“We prefer focused.” Sophia brushed her hands on her slacks and rose. “Thanks, Miss Almira. I appreciate your help. I’d better get back to the bookstore and batten down as best I can.”

“Good news.” Gladys Louise bustled out of the kitchen. “Mr. Fixit fit you in—a personal favor to me.” She blushed.

“Thanks.” From that deep red, the favor was very
personal
.

“Do get home as quickly as possible.” Almira walked Sophia to the door. “Things aren’t what they used to be in Matinsfield.”

“Dangerous,” Gladys Louise agreed. “Especially with that hooded man lurking about.”

Sophia spun on the stoop, heart suddenly pounding. “W-who?”

Almira raised a critical brow. “You sound like an owl.”

“Shush,” Gladys Louise said. “We call him X.”

Sophia swallowed a lump of ice. For the Misses not to know something was unheard of.

“Otherwise we’d have said ‘George’ is lurking about, or ‘Heathcliff’ is lurking about, or—”

“Right. My mistake. I’ll be off now.” Sophia stuffed her heart back in her chest and headed to the bookstore.

Mr. Fixit was already there, replacing the glass. Gladys Louise must’ve made one helluva promise. Sophia said, “I don’t suppose you could update the lock too?” The door still had the old-fashioned rod-style key it had come with in the 1800s.

“I’ll order ’er up tomorrow.” He finished the inside glazing. “Don’t touch this or bump the door for a few days. I’ll send your aunt the bill.”

“Actually, you can send it to Noah Blackwood.” She flipped on the lights. The sign was set to Closed and she’d lock the door after Mr. Fixit left. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many disappointed customers. Aunt Linda often kept irregular hours.

“Oh good. I like Blackwood—he pays promptly.” Mr. Fixit clicked the door shut behind him.

Sophia watched him go through the window. Her gaze drifted to the dark shadows across the street. She was alone in the store, and though the door was fixed now, a boy breaking in the first time had shown how easily it could be done. Her heart thumped faster.

Brrring.

She jumped. Nearly zapped the wall phone with a short-out spell but managed to stifle it. She thought about letting it ring but realized it might be Auntie and ran to answer.

She grabbed the old-fashioned ear trumpet and panted, “Hello?”

“Doing marathons now?” Gabriel’s deep voice held a hint of amusement.

“Hello to you too, brother dear.” She tried to control her breath. A witch, scared of a little night? She’d never hear the end of it. She managed to wheeze, “I was out searching for Aunt Linda. I just got back.”

“You need to work on your stamina.”

“Sure, as soon as you work on your manners. Are you calling for a reason?”

“I was worried. You texted that the door was broken and then nothing. I tried your cell, but you didn’t answer. It’s been almost an hour. Why were you so late getting up there in the first place?”

She checked her phone. Two missed calls. She took it off vibrate. “I had car trouble.”

“I thought I fixed that.”

Normally, technology mixed with magic like lemonade and potato chips. Theory had it that a witch’s magical aura—or neural fields or whatever—fritzed the technology.

Sophia’s technology was fine, with a little help.

Gabriel was a wizard prince—but more, he was a Choice Buy Techie Titan. He dealt with bit-challenged mundane users all day, so it was easy for him to make recalcitrant technology sit up and rumba, even for witches. Something to do with aligning rare earth elements in the logic-gated components. Sophia tried to listen but her eyes glazed.

“You couldn’t have done anything about this. It was a mundane failure. A carbegumerator injector thingy.”

“Gotta love injector thingies. Update me.”

She told him about the boy-wolf Marlowe tripping Auntie’s store alarm, and Auntie calling in the pack alpha to handle it, without mentioning Noah by name. “Now Auntie’s gone, but nobody knows where.”

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