“I don’t.”
“Neither do I.” He cupped her face in both hands and leaned down. “We’ll be too busy to notice.” And he kissed her with the certainty of a man who knew that his passion was returned.
They undressed each other this time, and it didn’t take long. Soon they were rolling naked on the pristine white sheets. They stroked and fondled with the confidence of lovers who’ve learned which caresses bring the most pleasure.
Giselle banished melancholy thoughts as she reveled in the wonder of loving and being loved by Luke. Sex between them had been good from the beginning, but it had grown richer with each encounter. Tonight she treasured every moment as they writhed on the bed—skin to skin, mouth to mouth, breath to breath. At last they sought the deepest connection, the one they craved most of all.
Each thrust, each tremor, each moan brought them closer to total surrender. As Giselle’s body gathered itself, poised for the coming explosion, she looked up into eyes blazing with the same fire burning within her. She could no longer hold back her truth. “I love you, Luke Dalton.”
He drew in a quick breath. “Ah, Giselle.” His eyes darkened. “I know you do. I know.” And he drove home with a triumphant cry, the moment of his orgasm matching hers. They held on tight and rode the whirlwind. Long after the storm subsided, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms.
She would have loved to drift off to sleep that way, but her mind was filled with thoughts of leaving. Sleep wouldn’t come. The thought of never seeing Luke again tore her apart.
In spite of all her misgivings, she wanted to be with him. Mr. Thatcher thought they belonged together. Bryce thought they belonged together. She trusted their insights, but . . . what if they were wrong? What if she revealed her secret and Luke was thoroughly repulsed?
Was it better to leave when he still thought of her as the woman who got away? Besides, if she gambled on him accepting her werewolf nature and lost, they wouldn’t have a future, but he’d be stuck with guarding the secret for the rest of his life. What should she do?
“Giselle.” His voice was low and intense. “I can almost hear you thinking. Please tell me you’re reconsidering.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“How could I sleep with all that thinking going on?”
“Oh, Luke. I don’t know what to do.”
“I do.” He sat up. “Stop resisting and say we can be together. Tell me this awful secret, whatever it is.”
She gulped. “Once I do, there’s no turning back.”
“There’s no turning back anyway. Like the song says, I will always love you. I couldn’t stop doing that if I tried.” He blew out a breath. “Just tell me what it is. How bad can it be?”
“Life changing.”
“Okay!” He got out of bed and began to pace. “Mr. Thatcher and Bryce are involved, aren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it! And somehow it all ties into the security at Illusions. You don’t have to say yes or no. I don’t know how, but it does.”
She trembled. Sitting up seemed like a better way to face this decision, so she did that. Then she decided to get out of bed, too.
He whirled to face her. “I love you!” He practically shouted it. “Don’t shut me out, Giselle. Tell me the truth! Whatever it is, I swear I can deal with it. Nothing’s more important to me than being with you. Nothing!”
She could barely breathe as fear tightened her chest. But in spite of the fear, she made a decision. She would tell him.
She wanted him, and he wanted her, and maybe Bryce was right. Luke needed a chance to accept or reject her as she really was. She would take full responsibility for the outcome, but he deserved to know the truth.
He faced her, eyes flashing. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”
“Yes.” She gulped for air. Her pulse raced, sending liquid fire through her veins. “I’m . . . I’m a werewolf.”
Chapter 25
Luke went completely still. Then, because it was the only logical response, he laughed. “That’s a great line, but your timing is lousy. I’m not in the mood for joking around, Giselle.” Except her expression was completely serious, which made him nervous.
“I’m not joking. I realize that’s a shocking thing to hear, but it’s the truth.”
He stared at her. Until now, he’d considered her the love of his life. And she was batshit crazy. That wasn’t a politically correct description anymore. He didn’t know what was PC these days to label someone who was a taco short of a Mexican combo plate.
Sad to say, he still loved her, crazy or not. But she needed help. “Giselle, is there a medication you might have skipped recently? We’ve been so busy that you easily could have forgotten. Is it in your suitcase? I’d be happy to—”
“I’m not on medication and don’t need to be.”
Oh, boy. He’d heard of cases like this, where the patient became belligerent. “I’ll get Bryce. I’ll call Cynthia and tell her to send Bryce down here. I’m sure he knows what—”
“Don’t get Bryce. Keep this between you and me for now, please.”
“Okay, no Bryce. You and I will handle this together.” He tried to stay calm. “How about taking a nice little ride with me? There’s a twenty-four-hour clinic within a few minutes of here. You don’t have to be scared or anything. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”
She sighed. “Luke, you’re a really good guy. You think I’m psychotic, don’t you?”
“That’s such a harsh word. You’re a little confused about reality, but we can fix that. How about getting dressed? That’s a good start.” And he’d been so sure that he knew her. Was it possible that she was telling the truth? Nope. Not possible. She had a chemical imbalance, and he would get her some help for that.
“I guess there’s only one way to convince you.” Dropping to her hands and knees, she stretched out naked on the bedroom carpet, facing him.
“This isn’t a good time for sex. I never thought I’d hear myself say that concerning you, but I have my standards. Taking advantage of a disturbed woman is not my idea of acceptable behavior. So if you’ll just get up and put on your . . .” He lost track of what he’d been about to say when she began to sparkle.
Okay, this was freaking him out. Normal women didn’t sparkle. He’d seen a vampire movie that involved sparkling, but Giselle hadn’t announced she was a vampire. She’d said she was a werewolf. He didn’t believe in vampires or werewolves, so this couldn’t be happening.
A nightmare. He was having a nightmare. He pinched himself, though, and it hurt. Wasn’t that the test? He’d love to wake up and find out he was dreaming and his beloved was still in bed with him instead of lying on his bedroom carpet . . . sparkling.
That wasn’t all she was doing, though. Along with the pretty lights, she was changing right before his eyes. He rubbed them, thinking that he was hallucinating. Maybe he was the one in need of medication.
Or a good bottle of Scotch. Damnation. The dancing lights faded, and where a redheaded woman with green eyes had been, a wolf now stood. Its coat was a deep red, very close in color to Giselle’s hair. And its eyes, although they were those of a wolf, were emerald green.
He began to shake, and his heart was beating double time. His voice was a mere whisper. “Giselle?”
The wolf looked at him, intelligence shining in its green eyes. In her green eyes. He couldn’t deny the evidence. This wolf was Giselle. And Giselle was this wolf. His brain hurt, but . . . she’d told him the truth.
He dragged air into his lungs. “Okay.” He still wasn’t registering this. He blew out that same air. “Okay. I . . . I need to think about this. In my wildest dreams, I never . . .” He started grabbing his clothes. “Let me think. I need to talk a walk. Please don’t go anywhere.”