“No. I’ve been wondering about that.”

“Balthasar does not tolerate rivals.”

“I’m not a rival.”

“Of course not. But he might see you as something else. A possession, maybe?”

I laughed. “I don’t think so.” Ben wasn’t laughing, though. He’d curled his hand around my arm.

“I wanted to warn you.”

“What’s your stake in it? Why tell me this?”

“I’m simply a concerned citizen who knows something you don’t.”

And if that didn’t pique my curiosity... “What’s the big secret, then? What do you know? What’s going on over there? The lycanthropes—they perform under duress, don’t they? They’re trapped—”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “It’s not so mundane as that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s best you don’t concern yourself with such matters.”

“Secrets don’t scare me, they only piss me off.”

“That can be dangerous.”

“Thanks. But I’m pretty good at taking care of myself.”

He looked both of us up and down. Taking our measure. “I suppose you’d have to be.”

“We look out for each other,” Ben said.

“Good. I’ll be off, then. Sorry for interrupting your evening.” He tipped an imaginary hat at us, then disappeared around the corner, a dapper gentleman from another century.

I stared after him, vaguely aware that Ben was still squeezing my arm. “It’s frustrating. I can’t find anything out about Balthasar, and then Grant comes along talking all this doom. And he wouldn’t even come on my show.”

“You sure seem to be popular with the guys,” he said.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

I put my arm around his waist as we walked to the elevator. “Good.”

Chapter 10

Late that night I lay in bed, curled on my side, wishing for a quiet place that didn’t smell like the hotel room, which stank of furniture polish, bleach, lint, and people. Strangers. Not pack, not friendly. I hadn’t wanted to take over Denver’s werewolf pack; I’d kept insisting that I didn’t want to be an alpha. But now I missed the other wolves. I missed my own place. Here, even with the thick curtains drawn, shutting out the neon lights and early morning activity on the Strip, I could still hear the cars, an occasional voice, distant music.

Ben touched me. He set his hand on my bare hip, lightly, then moved his face along my shoulder to my neck, my hair, taking in my scent, letting his breath whisper over my skin. His warmth brushed over me, sending calm through me. Wherever he was, that was home. He smelled like pack, and that made him safe. Not just in the sense that I knew he wouldn’t hurt me; it was more than that. He meant safety. Lying with him, closed in his arms, nothing could harm me.

That was objectively true. But my shoulders were tense, like hackles, despite the drinks, despite making love before drifting to sleep. Rather, Ben had drifted to sleep and I stared at the curtained windows, waiting for ninjas to strike. The whole way back here I’d looked over my shoulder and jumped at odd noises. I’d felt that prickling sensation that someone was watching me from across the room. But of course when I looked, no one was there.

Ben kissed my upper back, pressing at the knots in the muscles. I moaned softly and bent my neck forward to give him better access. Distraction. I only needed distracting and I’d be fine. As if he knew this, he nuzzled my neck, burying his face in my hair, moving slowly, gently. My body tingled, flushing. Where he touched felt electric.

“You smell worried,” he murmured.

“You can tell?”

“Yeah.” He kissed, more firmly this time, his mouth open, and I melted a little further. “Is it about getting married?”

I was chagrined to realize I hadn’t been thinking about getting married. I really should have been. “No, I’m looking forward to that,” I said. “It’s not that. I feel like I’m being watched. Followed.”

“Even now?” He inched closer, pressing his body to mine, wrapping an arm around me, his hand crawling up my torso to cup a breast. I nestled firmly into his arms.

“I saw this TV special once about security in the casinos. They have cameras everywhere. You can’t even tell where they all are. People sit in these dark rooms watching the footage all day, every day.”

“There are no cameras in the hotel rooms.” His movements, holding me against him, nuzzling at my hairline, became more insistent. His erection against my backside became insistent.

“I’m worried about people who don’t need cameras. Like the lycanthropes from Balthasar’s show. And Odysseus Grant—the way he seemed to jump out of thin air. That doesn’t even start to mention all your buddies at the silver-bullet convention—oh—” Another moan caught in my throat, because he was tracing my ear with his tongue and shifting me onto my back.

He loomed over me now, gray and shadowy in the dark, his hair ruffled by sleep, but a light shone in his eyes. He smelled warm and wild, a spicy, earthy scent that was all his. I wanted to dig my fingers into him and pull him close, never letting go.

“Kitty,” he said. “Stop worrying.”

“Okay.”

I laced my hands in his hair and made him kiss me until I forgot about everything else.

The next morning, I felt as good as I had all weekend—relaxed, refreshed, ready for the day. On the other hand, Ben, his expression pursed and studious, was pacing back and forth along the window.

“You okay?” I said, watching him from the bed.

“I’m not sure I can go through with this.”

I blinked in confusion and tried not to let out a wail. “Wait a minute. The wedding? Now you get cold feet?”

“No, not the wedding,” he said, frowning. “The poker tournament.”

“Oh. That.” The frown turned into a scowl, and I said, “But this tournament, it’s a big deal, right? If you don’t try, you’ll always wonder.” See? I could be a supportive girlfriend.

“I don’t know. Am I supposed to be this nervous? I’ve got butterflies. No—it’s like I’ve got claws scraping the inside of my skin. What are you smiling at?”

“That’s exactly how I felt yesterday before my gig.”

Ben stopped pacing and let out a sigh, a release of nervous energy. I’d had my turn in the spotlight yesterday—I actually thought it was kind of cool Ben was getting a bit of that spotlight today. In poker, of all things. I said, “If your werewolf superpowers can win anything at all, I think you should try it. It’d be nice to have some good come out of being infected with lycanthropy.”

“Besides being with you, you mean?” he said, his smile crooked.

I grinned stupidly. “Aw.”

“You’re right, it’s just nerves.”

“Do you want me to come cheer you on? I could even find some pom-poms.” I wrinkled my brow. “Is cheering allowed at poker tournaments?”

“You don’t have to do that. It’ll be boring, watching a bunch of obsessive people playing cards.”

“You were there for me yesterday.”

“Kitty, it’s okay. You’ve wanted to go sit by the pool for weeks. Now’s your chance. Besides, I’m not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, right?”

I smirked. “If you wanted to be that traditional, we should have gotten separate rooms and last night never should have happened. Which would have been a shame.”

His smile was a very satisfied leer.

I finally pulled my swimsuit out of my suitcase. A bikini, even. I figured I’d only be young once. Ben was suitably admiring, and best of all, he held my hand when he walked me to the elevator. My mental Frank Sinatra soundtrack had started playing again. Come fly with me...

We were halfway there when the faint click of a heel on linoleum behind a closed service door caught my attention. My hand flexed against Ben’s. I glanced over my shoulder at the service door, which was behind us. I met Ben’s gaze; his nose was flaring.