“Our uninvited visitor, a woman by the way, was an amateur. The problem went away.”

“A woman, eh?” Garen sounded interested.

“Ja. A Russian national from what I could tell, but her English was excellent.”

“Hmph. How’s everything else?”

“Better than good, my friend. Tamara was shot, but she is closeted in the bedroom healing herself.”

“Aha! Not that we have a corner on the magic market, but I was probably right about her being one of us. It makes things much easier. Did you talk with her about working for The Company?”

Lars blew out a breath. “I broached the topic, but she has lived through a great deal in a short time. Things like this, well, they—”

“I’ll have Miranda work on her when the two of you get here. It isn’t as if we’d be sending her out on the front lines anytime soon.”

An almost savage protectiveness surged, surprising Lars with its ferocity. “She has worked as a journalist. Surely we could use a decent PR person.”

Garen laughed so hard, Lars held the phone away from his ear. Irritation tensed his jaw. A straight-shooter, Garen could be incredibly insensitive. When he could talk again, Garen said, “What we do doesn’t generally require public relations. Aren’t we usually flying beneath the radar?”

Lars chuckled, and his annoyance crumbled like over-baked bread. “It is only that I wish her to feel comfortable, safe.”

“This is sounding serious, old friend. Is she that good in the sack?”

“I have not yet found out, but I am working on it.”

“Maybe I should hang up. You can mosey on in there, shift, make a grab for her hot animal form—”

“No. Once we have coupled in both forms, we will be linked forever. You made that mistake with Miranda—before you discussed the ramifications. I wish to be more aboveboard.”

“Aw, come on. I was more sloppy than shady.”

“Whatever. I am fond of the fair fraulein. If we do make love, it will first be in our human forms. She does not know what I am, and I did not question her when she went into the bedroom alone.”

“Playing it close to the cuff, eh?”

“Christ, Garen! In less than twenty-four hours, she has killed for the first time, been shot at, taken a bullet through her shoulder, and understands she is running for her life.”

“You’re probably right to ease into things.” The teasing tone had left Garen’s voice. “You always did have excellent instincts. See you soon.”

“Ja. Looking forward to it.” Lars disconnected. Though his gaze settled on two nameless teams bouncing a basketball around a court, his mind was elsewhere. All he could see was Tamara, with her sea-blue eyes, shiny black hair, and pert smile. His cock jumped to attention. Lars rearranged himself and let his fingers linger over his engorged shaft. He was imagining how her breasts would feel in his hands when the door to the bedroom creaked open. Lars grabbed an occasional pillow and dragged it into his lap to cover his obvious erection. Embarrassment swamped him, but he tried for a nonchalant expression as Tamara, radiant and breath-stealing, stepped out of the bedroom.

Chapter Seven

Senses still heightened from spending time in her cat form, Tamara scented Lars’ arousal as soon as she cracked the bedroom door. It arrowed right into her crotch, which flooded with desire. Her face heated and she knew she was blushing furiously. He gazed at her, gray eyes smoky with something she didn’t have a name for, looking like a human version of a big cat on the prowl.

“I heard the phone.” Tamara ignored her suddenly heavy, aching breasts and the second heart beating between her legs.

“It was nothing.” He shifted position on the sofa and she noticed the pillow dead center in his lap. Had she interrupted him masturbating?

Her face got even hotter at the thought of his well-formed fingers stroking his shaft. Somehow she just knew his cock would be as amazing as the rest of him. She wanted to walk to the sofa, wrap her arms around him, and taste his lips again, but he wasn’t exactly asking her to join him.

“Are you well, fraulein? Do you need me to find a physician after all?”

“Sure and I am mostly better. I worried the phone call might mean we had to leave, so I hurried things up a bit.” She pressed her thighs together, not remembering if she’d ever been anywhere near this hot before.

“It was just Garen. His intel connections are excellent. He knew about the woman who tried to kill you and wished to assure himself we were all right.”

“If that was all… I-I’ll be bathing.” She tried to take a deep breath; it wasn’t easy. At least in the bathroom, she’d escape the embarrassment of having walked in on him—and she could take care of her own needs. All she could think about was fucking Lars, feeling his hands moving over her body and his cock buried inside her. Before she tossed caution to the winds and threw her overheated body into his arms, she hustled into the bathroom. The second she shut the door, she crammed a hand between her legs and pushed her swollen labia against her fingers. Her other hand settled on a pebbled nipple. A muted yelp escaped and she bit her lower lip to stifle further sounds.

A tap vibrated against the bathroom door. She froze. Had she flipped the lock? Tamara straightened. Another tap. “Yes?” Her voice rang hollowly. She dragged her hands away from her breast and pussy and stood straight.

“Open the door.” Lars’ voice was harsh, raspy with the same need raging in her nether regions.

Tamara snaked a hand out and turned the knob. He surged into the small space, crushed her against him, and slashed his mouth down on hers. She opened herself to him, desperate for the feel of him, the taste of him. His scent eddied about them; she inhaled hungrily, and the musk of his heat stoked her own inner fire. He sank his tongue inside her mouth. She sparred with it, nibbling, licking, sucking, biting. He ran his hands down her back and cupped the curves of her ass, drawing her against him. His cock pressed against her belly; he groaned and thrust against her.

She ground her hips against his pelvis and then moved to capture one of his legs between her thighs. The heat of his body pressing on her clit was almost more than she could stand. She reached between them and undid his belt and the fastenings on his trousers. Frantic to feel him, she pressed a hand inside his pants and curved her fingers around his cock. It was long, hard, thick, and quivering with need.

Her mind was a muddle. Shoes. His shoes would be a problem. She broke away from their kiss and slithered down his body until she knelt before him. Still gripping his shaft in one hand, she licked and kissed her way up and down it. He buried his hands in her hair and showed her the rhythm he needed. She milked him with hands, mouth, teeth, tongue. The hotter he got, the more she wanted to please him. All thoughts of removing his shoes, which was why she’d kneeled in the first place, fled.

He tried to pull away, but she held fast. His cock bucked in her hand. He made an incredible sound, half purr, half growl, low in the back of his throat, just before semen jetted into her mouth. Tamara clung to him, made his pleasure last as long as it could.

He stroked her hair gently, murmuring in German. Even though his cock was still rigid, he pulled it out of her mouth, kneeled beside her, and closed his mouth over hers. He dragged a couple of thick towels off a nearby rack, placed them on the floor and drew her down onto them. Next he tugged her sweater out of the way and settled a hand over one of her breasts. At first he just held its weight in his hand, and then he teased her nipple, twirling his fingers around it until it ached with desire. He trailed kisses down her neck, moved to her exposed breast, licked and suckled it thoroughly before exchanging it for the other one.