A Werewolf in Manhattan (27 page)

“Never mind, Dad. Everything’s under control. Bye.” He massaged the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before turning back to Emma.

“I tried not to eavesdrop, but I’m pretty sure I heard the words
hostage situation.
”

For a woman uttering that sentence, she looked reasonably calm. Maybe the hot chocolate had worked some sort of magic because the mug was empty. Emma had also started in on the disgusting mess she’d created with the oatmeal and its array of embellishments.

She looked almost happy. But then, she hadn’t heard that her mother was ready to call out the National Guard to find her.

Aidan searched his overworked brain for the best way to broach the subject. “I don’t want you to get upset about this, but—”

“Hold it right there. Nothing good ever comes after a sentence that starts like that. Did you get permission for me to give my mother the address of your estate?”

“No. In fact, there’s no address, and the place isn’t on any map. The only way for anyone to know where it is would be to actually go there. And before you even suggest it, I’m telling you right now that your mother isn’t going there.”

“I know that.” She sat primly on the sofa, the bowl of oatmeal in her lap. “But if I don’t give her a better idea of where this mysterious estate is, she’ll demand to know why I’m being so secretive, and that’s not good, either, is it?”

“No.” He sat on the sofa opposite hers and put his BlackBerry on the coffee table. “It’s time to call your mother, though.”

“I’ve been saying that.”

Aidan wondered whether he was losing his mind, but he could come up with only one scenario that might satisfy Betty Gavin. “Are you willing to alter the truth a little when you call her?”

“Are you asking me to lie to my mother?”

“Yes.” He braced himself for an explosion.

“No problem.”

His jaw dropped.

“Don’t look so surprised, Aidan. You think I want her to be on the werewolf hit list because she knows too much? The trick will be to give her the kind of info that will keep her from snooping around on her own.”

“Well, she already has some information. When you didn’t pick up your messages, she tried to contact you through the hotel where you were originally booked.”

Emma flopped back on the sofa with a groan. The oatmeal quivered in the bowl but didn’t spill out.

“Better not get that oatmeal on anything. I’ve heard NASA uses that stuff to make repairs on the space shuttle.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. How do you know this about my mother?”

“Because when you weren’t registered at the hotel, she called the airlines, and when she discovered your flight had been canceled, she called Roger Claymore to find out where the hell you were.”

“And Roger called your father, who called you.”

“Exactly.”

Emma sat forward and put her bowl on the tray. “I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. How am I going to explain”—she swept a hand around the penthouse suite—“
this
?”

“I have an idea.”

“Then give it to me because I got zip.”

“First, you explain that you broke up with Doug.”

“Yeah.” She eyed him warily.

“And then you tell her I’ve swept you off your feet.”

“Aidan, I don’t think—”

“Let me finish.” He was warming to this story, strange as it had seemed in the beginning. “Then you say that, because I’m richer than God, I’ve arranged for a virtual book tour so that you and I can jet off to a lover’s hideaway. You can’t tell her where because I’m keeping it a secret even from you, as a special surprise, but it could be tropical.”

Emma buried her face in her hands and groaned again. “This is so bad.”

“Why? Isn’t it the sort of romantic adventure a mother would want for her daughter?”

“Yes.” She combed her fingers through her tousled hair and gazed up at him. “It’s precisely what a mother would want for her daughter. She’s never been crazy about Doug.”

That makes two of us.
“So she’ll buy it, right?”

“Oh, she’ll buy it, and she’ll start imagining how fantastic the wedding will be, and how my whole life will change now that I’ve found Prince Charming, and how
her
life will change. That dream of an apartment on Central Park West will seem a lot closer, now. And then—
bam!
—it’ll all come crashing down because we’ll break up.”

“I see your point.”

“I’m setting her up only to knock her down later. I hate that.”

Aidan stared at his breakfast, which was quickly congealing into something cold and inedible. He didn’t feel much like eating, anyway. “I don’t know what else to do, Emma.” He lifted his head to glance across the coffee table. “I’m afraid anything less will have her asking all kinds of questions, just like you said she would.”

“It’s actually a brilliant plan,” she said softly. “And if I consider the alternative—that my mother will start investigating my whereabouts and get herself into deep trouble with the werewolf world—I don’t have much choice. I’d rather deal with her disappointment than be afraid for her life.”

Aidan nodded. “That’s the logical way to look at it.”

“I still hate it.”

“I know.” The worst part was he did know. After all those weeks of keeping track of her, he understood how deeply she loved her mom. Deliberately causing her pain would be tough. But as Emma had rightly figured out, it was the lesser of two evils.

“For what it’s worth,” Aidan said. “I hate it, too.”

She held his gaze. “Thanks. That helps.”

Chapter 21

After Emma retrieved her phone and returned to her place on the sofa to make the call, Aidan came over to sit beside her. She appreciated that. In many ways Aidan was a very nice guy—um—werewolf.

She took a deep breath, filling her senses with the musky aroma that was Aidan. Perhaps it wasn’t some expensive aftershave she inhaled. The scent that drew her could be a blend made up of his natural element—deep woods and moist earth, combined with the primitive essence of a powerful male wolf.

She still had trouble melding the two entities—the man beside her and the golden-eyed wolf that hurtled into her bedroom last night. In her books, where she’d been somewhat removed from the concept, it had seemed perfectly plausible. Faced with the reality, she discovered that the chasm between man and beast was too wide for her mind to make the leap.

That worked to the pack’s advantage, she supposed. Most people would assume they’d imagined seeing a large wolf in a populated area where no wolves had roamed for centuries. If someone happened to witness an actual transformation, they’d assume they’d had too much to drink or needed new glasses. A casual sighting would be passed off as a trick of light or somebody pulling a prank.

Emma couldn’t hide behind those excuses, but she wanted everyone else to, especially her mother. Betty Gavin answered on the second ring.

“Emma, my God, where
are
you?”

“Mom, I’m so sorry to worry you. I’m at the Palmer House in Chicago with Aidan Wallace.”

“The Palmer House? With Aidan?”

Aidan slid his arm around her shoulders, and for the space of this phone call, Emma decided to pretend that what she was about to tell her mother was true. If a fiction writer couldn’t weave her own fantasies, then who could?

“I didn’t want to tell you right before I left because I didn’t know how everything would go, but Aidan took me out for a drink and dancing after the signing Wednesday night. We had a terrific time, and I broke up with Doug the next morning.”

“Wow,
Emma.
And Aidan is there with you now?”

“Yes.” She snuggled into his warmth, and he cooperated by holding her close. “He invited himself along on my book tour and then changed my hotel reservations, which is why you couldn’t find me where I was supposed to be. We’re in the penthouse, and he’s spoiling me rotten.”

“A whirlwind romance! I love it! So is he continuing on with you to the other cities on your tour?”

“Not exactly.” Emma battled her guilt at deceiving her trusting mother by remembering that deception was the only way to keep Betty safe. “Because the weather’s turning out to be a problem anyway, Aidan’s setting up a virtual tour, which I can do from anywhere there’s an Internet connection.”

“I think that’s very smart, Emma. I never did like the idea of all that flying around when the weather’s bound to be miserable. Good for Aidan. I can see already that he’s looking out for you. Are you both coming back to New York, then? Because I’d love to have you both over for dinner. Nothing fancy, probably not what Aidan’s used to, but I—”

“Maybe soon, Mom.” Emma’s heart squeezed as she thought of the approaching letdown. “But Aidan and I want to spend some time alone, so he’s arranged a tropical getaway for us.”

“Ooh, I like that! So classy. Where?”

Aidan’s arm tightened around her. He was close enough to hear both sides of the conversation and had to know how her mother’s enthusiasm cut her to the quick.

“He won’t tell me! It’s a surprise, so I’ll just have to let you know when I get back.”

“Can’t you call me from there?”

“I could, Mom, but I’ll be ... sort of busy.”

Her mother laughed. “Of course, of course. Never mind me. Call me when you get a chance, but I don’t want to be the bothersome mother who needs her daughter to check in twice a day. Just ... have fun.”

Emma’s throat tightened. “I will, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey. And I’m so happy for you.”

“Bye, Mom. I’ll be in touch.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

Emma disconnected the call and buried her face against Aidan’s shoulder. “That was awful, just awful.”

“You handled it beautifully.” He stroked her hair.

“It wasn’t hard. She would never in a million years suspect that I would lie to her about something like this. She’s always wanted a special man in my life, somebody she considered good enough for me. Now she thinks I have one, but I don’t, and I just
hate
that I lied to her about it.”

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t forget why you’re doing this. You’re protecting her.”

Battling tears, she sat up so she could look at him. “You know what? I wish you’d never read one of my books. And if you had to read one, I wish you’d decided it was stupid and tossed it in the nearest Dumpster.”

“Emma, by writing about werewolves, you were going to attract a Were’s attention sooner or later. Isn’t it better that I’m the one who made the first contact, instead of some nutcase like Theo?”

“So you’re saying I would have been sucked into the werewolf world eventually, simply by writing the books I do?”

He combed her hair back from her face as if she were a little child he needed to comfort. “I think so, yes.”

“That makes no sense. A bunch of people write about werewolves. Are all of them being monitored?”

“Depends on whether their werewolf characters are anything close to the truth. In one story I picked up, the Weres had wolf faces and hairy humanoid bodies, so they were ugly as sin. Plus they ran around killing and eating people.” He made a face. “Disgusting.”

He was so clearly offended that she couldn’t help but smile. “So that book went in the Dumpster?”

“First I ripped it in half, and then I threw it in the fireplace, where it burned to a satisfying crisp.”

“I see. Remind me never to present you with a bad book.”

He laughed. “That might be the only time I’ve done that. Usually I just toss them if they’re bad.”

“You’ve read a lot of werewolf books, then?”

“Quite a few. It’s a hobby of mine. Anyway, you can imagine how happy I was when your werewolves turned out to be responsible citizens and loyal pack members.” He gazed at her. “In other words, your Weres have dignity. I appreciate that take on the subject.”

She shrugged. “It was my fantasy of how they would be if they did exist.”

“And we do.”

“I know you do, Aidan. But I have to say that sitting here on the sofa with you, when you’re so
human,
I can’t imagine that you can suddenly turn into a wolf.” She studied his face. “When I look into your eyes, I see a man.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“Yes. All I see is ...” Her voice trailed off as something in his eyes began to change.

The difference was subtle at first, a slight altering of the pupils. Then his focus sharpened, and a primitive light began to shine in those golden depths.

Her breath caught.

“The wolf is always there, Emma.”

As she responded to the intensity in his eyes, her pulse quickened and sexual awareness danced along her nerve endings. “Always?”

“Yes.”

“Even during—” She swallowed. “During sex?”

“Especially then. When you become aroused, your scent drives me crazy.” He paused and his glance flicked over her. “It’s driving me crazy now.”

She shouldn’t be surprised that he could sense the hot desire simmering just under the surface, ready to spill over at any moment. Whatever he was, man or wolf, she wanted him. “Are you going to ... shift?”

“I will soon if I stay here with you. I should leave—take a walk ...” He hesitated. “Unless—well, unless you’re willing to help me stop it.”

A familiar ache began low in her belly. “By having sex?”

“Yes, but considering how my family has interfered with your life and forced you to lie to your mother, I wouldn’t blame you for denying me.”

He had a point, but she craved what he offered. By denying him she’d deny herself. “I’m not into revenge.”

“Maybe not, but what about self-preservation? You know I’m committed to Nadia.”

“Have you had sex with her?”

“No.”

That single word meant more to her than she’d ever let him know. “Why not? She’s lovely.”