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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

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BOOK: A Werewolf in Manhattan
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Thinking of him with children sent a little pang of longing zinging through her heart. It was just a little pang, though, because he was so out of her league.
She chose to underline that fact. “I’d hate to be the kid who inherits this watch. Just my luck, I’d leave it in a gym locker or accidentally knock it into the sink when the garbage disposal was running.”
“I’ll admit I have to be more careful with it than I would with a cheaper watch.”
“No kidding. You do realize you could get a Casio, which would do most of this stuff.”
“I have a phone that does most of this stuff. But ... it’s a Wallace tradition. We wear really good watches. Roarke has one that’s worth about the same or maybe even a little more.”
She handed it back to him with great care. “It’s very classy looking, but then it should be for eight hundred large.” Her mother had given her a watch for her high school graduation. It had cost around fifty bucks. True, it had gone on the fritz a couple of years after that, but she still had it in her dresser drawer because her mother had given it to her.
“I suppose I’ve never questioned spending this kind of money on a watch.” He fastened the strap around his wrist again.
“That’s the sort of thing I need to know for my research, the things a rich—I mean
wealthy
person takes for granted.”
He gazed at her. “Let’s say you had more money than you could ever spend. What would you do with it?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I’d buy my mom an apartment somewhere on Central Park West because she’s always talked about how wonderful it would be to live there, alongside people like Barbra Streisand. Then I’d get her a country home in Upstate New York where she could spend her vacations.”
“You don’t think that would be too extravagant?” He asked the question as if he really wanted to know.
“Of course it would be extravagant, but you said I’d have more money than I’d know what to do with. After I got her all set up, I’d research what charities to support, maybe start a foundation of some kind.”
He smiled. “Would you buy a Blancpain watch?”
“Uh, that would be a negative.” The wheels of the plane touched down on the runway. “And we’re in Chicago.”
“That’s the best time I’ve ever had on a plane, Emma. Thank you.”
“So should I assume you’ve never become a member of the mile-high club?”
He stared at her a moment before starting to laugh. “Uh, that would be a negative.”
“Because of your fear of flying?”
“No, because of my fear of getting stuck permanently in an airplane bathroom.” Still smiling, he studied her. “You would fit, though, if the guy wasn’t huge. Are you a member?”
“That would be a negative.”
He was definitely teasing her. “Then how are you ever going to write about it if you haven’t tried it?”
“I don’t have to research
everything,
Aidan. Obviously I have to use creative license for some things. It’s not like I’m ever going to have sex with a werewolf, you know.”
Something flashed in his eyes, something that looked very much like desire. Then it was gone. “No, I guess you won’t ever do that.”
She had an epiphany. God, she should have figured it out earlier. Aidan wasn’t all that different from Theo, the nineteen-year-old kid who’d e-mailed her. Aidan had read her sex scenes and was convinced she was hot stuff in bed.
If only that were true. She was hardly a virgin, but she’d never experienced the kind of mindless ecstasy she wrote about. She wasn’t even positive it existed in the real world. She could tell him that she used her imagination for the sex in the books, too, but he might not believe her. He was a man carried away by a fantasy. A fantasy she’d created.
But he had sense enough to know that they came from completely different worlds, and once the sex was over, whether it lived up to his expectations or not, they’d have nothing much in common. She wouldn’t feel at home in his world, and he wouldn’t want to scale down his lifestyle to fit into hers.
Correction—he
wouldn’t
scale down his lifestyle, as evidenced by the fact they’d flown to Chicago first-class. True, he’d given up the corporate jet, but now he was in Chicago, a city full of luxury options. As she thought about that, she wondered whether he’d made any other changes.
“I understand the media escort was canceled,” she said. “Did you book a rental car?”
“A car and driver will meet us at the airport and take us wherever we need to go.”
She should have guessed that he wouldn’t be driving her around in a subcompact from Hertz. “I forgot to ask about your accommodations while we’re here. Were you able to get a room at the hotel?”
He looked wary. “We’ll be at the Palmer House instead.”
She should have guessed that, too. The Palmer House was historic and would appeal to old money. “The penthouse?”
“It was available.”
“I’ll just bet it was.” She’d heard about it—eleven rooms of luxury—but had never expected to see it in person.
“You can consider it research.”
“Don’t worry, Aidan. That’s exactly what I’ll do.” No doubt about it, she’d be traveling in the pumpkin coach this weekend. She might as well relax and enjoy the ride.
Chapter 7
Aidan switched on his phone while they were still on the plane and called the car service. While the flight attendant helped Emma with her coat, he gave the driver quick instructions.
Whatever it took, he wanted a single serving of chocolate cake from one of Chicago’s best bakeries to be waiting in the town car by the time he and Emma reached it. Yes, he was showing off, and yes, he should cut it out. But he couldn’t resist making this happen. He ended the call right as Emma turned around.
“Just checking to make sure the car service is on time,” he said.
“They wouldn’t dare be late, would they?”
He had to smile. She was beginning to get the picture. The cake would blow her away. “No, but it doesn’t hurt to give them a nudge.”
Getting off the plane took a while, and Aidan was grateful because the cake wasn’t going to be an easy trick. He expected one person to be waiting with a sign at the end of the concourse and another to be running down the cake request. In any event, a chauffeur holding a sign printed with the name WALLACE waited as they left the secure area of O’Hare.
Aidan approached the man, who was a short, compact guy of about forty-five. He wore a navy blazer and no hat, but his most distinguishing feature was a long handlebar mustache.
None of the werewolves Aidan knew sported facial hair. They usually got enough of that when they shifted. Aidan didn’t pick up any werewolf vibes from the chauffeur, so apparently Aidan’s secretary had gone outside the Were community for this service.
Fortunately, Aidan hadn’t felt the presence of any Weres at all since getting off the plane. That meant Theo hadn’t somehow found out Emma’s flight information, which was a good thing. Maybe they’d be lucky and Theo wouldn’t show up all weekend, but Aidan doubted that.
He approached the chauffeur and held out his hand. “I’m Aidan Wallace.”
The chauffeur gave him a firm handshake. “Barry Dinsmore. Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Wallace.” He glanced over at Emma. “Ma’am, I’ll take your carry-on.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather keep it.” Emma clutched the handle of her rolling computer case as if it contained the secrets of the ages. Aidan had noticed her typing up a story idea on the plane, so in a way, the computer could be more valuable to her than gold.
He hoisted his computer case strap over his shoulder. “Then we’re off.”
“Wait.” Emma stood rooted to the floor in the middle of the stream of passengers. “I have checked baggage.”
“Just give Barry your claim-check. Someone will take care of it.”
“Someone? But I don’t ...” She looked uncertain.
“It’ll be fine, Emma. I promise you’ll get your luggage.” He flicked a glance in the chauffeur’s direction. “You can handle that, right?”
“Absolutely, sir. All I need is the claim-check.”
“Okay, although this seems very weird.” Emma rummaged through her purse and produced her ticket envelope with the claim-check stapled to it. “You can’t miss which one is mine. At least I don’t think you can. It’s orange, but I’ve written my name on the luggage tag in case there are two orange suitcases.”
“Orange. Got it.”
“And it’s about so big.” She measured out the size with her hands. “Oh, and I have a lime green ribbon tied on the handle to make it even easier to identify.”
Aidan tried not to shudder. This was why he’d wanted to take the corporate jet, so they wouldn’t be dealing with the horrors of baggage claim and orange suitcases with green ribbons tied on the handle. Emma would no doubt call him a snob for those thoughts, so he kept them to himself.
“I’ll remember that, ma’am,” the chauffeur said. “First I’ll settle you both in the car, and then I’ll fetch your luggage. If you’ll follow me.”
Emma turned to Aidan as they trailed after the chauffeur. “What about you? Don’t you have luggage?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Probably not, but you might as well tell me. Are you buying a new wardrobe when we get to the hotel?”
“No. I had my clothes delivered to the penthouse last night. They’re already hanging in the closet.”
“Of course they are.” She threw up both hands. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Give yourself time.” Aidan was struggling not to laugh. “You’ll get the hang of this.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll never get the hang of how the other half lives. It’s crazy.”
“Here’s the thing, Emma. By traveling with me, you’ll be safer than you would be if you traveled by yourself. That’s part of the security service. The resources of Wallace Enterprises will create a protective barrier around you while you’re in Chicago, where this Theo character lives.”
“All this for a nineteen-year-old. If he knew, he’d be so flattered.”
“Trust me. He’ll know. One of the tactics will be letting him think you’re engaged to me.”
“Hey! You can’t just spring something like that on me, Aidan. I should have something to say about it, don’t you think?”
“If we were really engaged, you’d have everything to say about it. But this is a security measure that has nothing to do with reality. All you have to do is go along with me on it.”
She walked in silence beside him, her back rigid.
“Emma? Will you roll with this concept or not?”
“You could have warned me. How long have you been planning to handle the weekend this way?”
He hesitated to tell her that he’d come up with the idea before they’d left New York. He’d been trying to figure out how to tell her and had hoped he could do it over cake.
“Not long,” he said. “Until just recently, I was still working out the details.”
“How recently?”
“This morning on the way to the airport.”
She stopped so quickly a man behind her almost ran over her. He muttered curses as he swerved around them. “Are you telling me you’re making this up as you go along?”
“No! Look, I haven’t had a lot of time to work on the strategy, and I’m refining it as ideas come to me. At first I thought being your media escort would be the perfect cover, but then I realized Theo wouldn’t be put off by a media escort. A fiancé, though, is another story.”
“As I’ve said before, Aidan, I don’t need all this fire-power. Chances are we won’t see Theo at all, but if I’m wrong and he shows up at the autograph table with a lewd suggestion, I’ll tell him to get lost. That should take care of it.”
Barry turned around with a questioning glance. “Mr. Wallace? Will you and Ms. Gavin be coming with me, then?”
“Yes.” Aidan cupped Emma’s elbow and guided her toward the exit. Touching her at all sent shivers of awareness through his system, but they needed to get moving. “We’ll talk more in the car.”
She allowed herself to be hustled along. “We can do that, but I really don’t like the fake engagement idea. I realize authors aren’t front-page news, but if there’s even the slightest chance word could get back to my mother, then—”
“Does she know about the e-mails?”
“No, and I don’t want her to. She has a tendency to be overprotective as it is. When I first moved out of her apartment and into my loft, she checked on me twice a day. That’s tapered off some, but if she thinks I have some cyberstalker on my trail, she’ll camp out in my living room for the duration. I love her to death, but she could make my life a living hell.”
Aidan wondered what Betty Gavin would do if she discovered her daughter was about to spend the weekend at the Palmer House with a werewolf. “So that means she doesn’t know I tagged along for your Chicago leg of the book tour, either?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Just asking.” He broke the connection between them so they could each navigate the revolving door leading outside.
“I didn’t tell her I broke up with Doug, either. The combination of that announcement and telling her I need you as a bodyguard on this trip would make her assume I got rid of Doug because you and I are lovers. What a disaster that would be.”
“Oh?” That pricked his ego more than a little.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.” He handed Barry his computer case, and the chauffeur loaded it and Emma’s case into the front seat of the town car.
“I’m just saying that it would be bad enough if she thought we were lovers when we’re not. If she hears through the grapevine that we’re engaged when we’re not—well, I can’t even imagine the fallout.”
“I can see the problem.” And he did. What had seemed like a brilliant plan during the plane ride now looked less than brilliant considering how Emma’s mother might react if she accidentally heard about any of this. Aidan understood the tricky nature of family dynamics. The Wallace pack had its share of issues.
BOOK: A Werewolf in Manhattan
5.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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