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“Are you going to kiss me?” Bron asked.
A sweet burn blushed up her cheeks. She leaned closer. “Can I?”
He turned his gaze onto her. His eyes were clear and true blue. Had he loved others who had fallen into wonder over his eyes in the brightness of morning?
“Knowing what you now know about me, do you still want to?”
That he was a werewolf. That he’d kept that a secret because he hadn’t thought she’d need to know. (She could excuse him for that.) That he wanted her heart, literally, in his hand.
Damn her. Kizzy felt powerless as he leaned even closer. Inches away from contact, the heat of their breaths mingled. “Yes, I do want to.”
MICHELE HAUF has been writing romance, action-adventure and fantasy stories for more than twenty years. France, musketeers, vampires and faeries usually populate her stories. And if Michele followed the adage “write what you know,” all her stories would have snow in them. Fortunately, she steps beyond her comfort zone and writes about countries and creatures she has never seen. Find her on Facebook, Twitter and at www.michelehauf.com.
Her Werewolf Hero
Michele Hauf
This one is for Sam and Dean. Because why not dedicate a book to a couple of fictional hunters? Works for me. And their adventures inspired the cheesy hotels in this story. Fight the faeries!
(That has nothing to do with this story, but you all know. Right?)
Contents
“Go right in, Mr. Everhart.” The pretty secretary with bright blue eyes gestured over her shoulder with a pen while typing on the keyboard with her other hand.
Bron nodded his thanks and stepped toward the scanner portal positioned before the Director of Acquisitions’ door. He paused on its springy metal threshold, felt the prick of its supernatural scanning mechanism throughout his nervous system and knew the data that showed on the director’s monitor would report he was werewolf, approximately two centuries in age, and did not wear an Acquisitions-issued tracking chip.
He refused to be chipped like a dog. If he ever went missing, then tilt a glass to him at the local pub and warn Beneath he was on his way.
A stream of green light beaming from inside the metal scanner alerted him the scan was complete. Stepping forward activated a sliding steel door, and he entered a dimly lit office. The decor featured dark woods and rusted steel ceiling beams that lent a rustic atmosphere to the room. The director was a vampire, but really? Bron knew they could go out in the sunlight for short periods, and an overcast day generally did not cause them harm.
He wouldn’t ask. He never did. He wasn’t a curious man. He simply acted. Let the shrapnel fall where it will.
Ethan Pierce had an alarmingly bright smile and a scattering of silver within the short brown hair spiking from his scalp. “Everhart! Just return from Romania?”
Bron took a seat on the ultracomfortable leather chair before the director’s desk and propped a combat-booted foot across his opposite knee. “Two days returned and eager to put my hiking boots on again.”
“Excellent. I’ve a new assignment for you.”
The director slid a piece of paper toward Bron. As with most Acquisitions’ dossiers, it featured a small photograph or drawing of the item that required retrieval, and below that were listed details. This one