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  Georgina grinned as he tried to scoot away but she followed. He was still valiantly trying to make a point but she no longer cared about it. He said he loved her, she loved him and that was all that mattered. While that might sound naïve to most people, Georgina no longer cared what most people thought. From what she’d seen and just recently done herself, most people discounted happiness in pursuit of more “serious” emotions. Like misery. If she had stayed with her initial conclusion that there was nothing between her and Simon but sexual attraction, she would have missed out on the chance to be happy.

  Well, most people could take their opinions and shove them.

  “Georgina,” Simon panted, wrapping his fist in her hair. “We need to talk and I can’t think straight when you do that.”

  Georgina delicately licked her way up his neck, gently kissed his mouth and said, “I’ve never felt more alive in my life than I have with you. If people say disparaging things about us, let them.

  Given a choice between going back to what I was and going forward with you, I choose you.”

  Simon looked into her eyes and whispered, “Do you mean that?

  Those are brave words but—”

  Georgina silenced him by gently running the pad of her thumb along his bottom lip. “It’s always easier being brave when you don’t have to do it alone. I can be as brave as I need to be, if you’re with me.”

  “All along the way,” Simon whispered. “When you said that

  thing about the ocean meeting the sky all along the way, I felt like you were talking about us, about how we blended together, especially in places that I always feared were too difficult to ever find a good, lasting fit.”

  “Well, what do you know,” Georgina said, blinking back tears as she brushed her lips across his. “This is some sex-infused prelude to happily-ever-after.”

  Simon barked out a surprised laugh. “Not how I would have put it but you’re right.”

  With Simon smiling at her, his love for her so clearly evident in his eyes, Georgina felt so giddy she thought about breaking out into song, or something else equally silly. But then Simon reached for one of the silk stockings that were still attached to the headboard and her urge to warble turned into something else entirely.

  Simon’s dark eyes flicked between Georgina’s flushed face and the length of silk he now had gripped in his hand. His lips slid against his teeth in a grin of the ‘all-the-better-to-eat-you-with’

  variety.

  “Now that that’s all settled,” he drawled. “I do believe that it’s your turn to be tied to the bed.”

  Simon Says: Epilogue

  Simon Says column dated July 7th

  By the time you bozos read this, I will be married.

  Is that shocked silence I hear? Well, no matter. I love my wife and, here’s the shocker, she loves me. However, I think she’s in a mild state of shock at finding herself married. That’s mostly because I initially told her I wasn’t rushing her into anything; then whined and moaned about her unwillingness to commit. After three weeks of this she broke down, drove me to Vegas and finally made an honest man of me. She’s now set herself the monstrous task of turning what was once my house into our home. She’s thrown out half my stuff, unearthed about 9,000 paperclips I didn’t know I had and gently, but firmly, talked my dog out of sitting on the kitchen counter. She’s still got a lot of work ahead of her, but all in all, I think both the house and I are coming along nicely.

  Now that I am a happily (read as smugly) married man, this will be my final column as America’s favorite perennial frat-boy. Ah yes, dear idiot readers, this is indeed the end of an era.

  If you’re wondering what I’m going to do with the rest of my life well, your guess is as good as mine. I think I’ll take a few weeks off and chase my wife around the house and then maybe I’ll get a job writing about politics.

  Things are definitely looking up my friend… up, up and away!

  About the author:

  Jane Thompson is the pseudonym of a fabulously wealthy, stunningly beautiful New York socialite who spends her days shopping, having lunch with her scores of equally fabulous friends and dodging marriage proposals from tall, dark and sinfully handsome men.

  Ah, the joy of fantasy, eh?

  I’m actually a housewife and mother who spends a ridiculous amount of my time either standing in line at the supermarket or peeling my cats off my furniture.

  I’d love to hear from you, so e-mail me at janethompson@

  earthlink.net .

  Bite of the Wolf

  * * *

  by Cynthia Eden

  To My Reader:

  Have you ever wondered… what if? What if monsters are real? Vampires, werewolves, all of those creatures that stalk the night—what if they really exist?

  What would they be like?

  In Bite of the Wolf, I took one of my favorite night creatures, the werewolf, and I gave him life in the 21st century.

  Gareth Morlet is an alpha wolf, the unquestioned leader of his pack. And now, he must face the greatest challenge of his life… he must claim his mate.

  I hope you enjoy reading Gareth’s story. Please feel free to visit my website at www.cynthiaeden.com or send an email to [email protected] to let me know what you think of my werewolf tale.

  Bite of the Wolf: Prologue

  Gareth Morlet had finally found his mate. The beast within him roared in triumph, while the man smiled in grim satisfaction.

  He’d finally found her. After years of searching, she was within his grasp.

  His fingers tightened around the color photograph. The young woman with the wide smile and sparkling blue eyes stared back at him.

  “Get the men ready,” he ordered, his voice a low growl. His gaze never left the photograph. “We leave at dusk.”

  Alerac, his second-in-command, hesitated. “Will she come willingly?”

  Gareth’s heart pounded. The thrill of the hunt was already coursing through him. “Does it matter?” She was his. And he would have her, one way or another.

  “He’ll be looking for her, too,” Alerac warned.

  Gareth nodded grimly. He was aware of the threat to his future mate. “Then I’ll just have to make certain that I get to her first.”

  The words were a vow.

  No other would have her. She was his.

  Bite of the Wolf: Chapter 1

  Trinity Martin had the uncomfortable feeling she was being watched.

  Her gaze scanned the dark street as she jogged. She didn’t see anyone. She didn’t hear anyone, but she felt—

  Stalked.

  Hunted.

  She’d felt that way often in the last week. She picked up her pace, wanting to get back to her tidy little house. Wanting to run inside and lock the door behind her. The sooner she got home, the better she would feel. She would—

  A loud, triumphant howl split the night.

  She froze, every muscle in her body tightening. What the hell was that?

  The howl echoed again, and this time, it seemed closer. Much, much closer. Too damn close.

  She broke into a full run. She wanted to get off that road. And away from whatever was waiting in the darkness, howling at her.

  The sun had long since set, but the night sky was full of stars, and the moon hung, heavy and full, in the sky. She could see easily in front of her. If she could just get home—

  A long black limousine rounded the curve up ahead. It drove toward her, slowing as it approached.

  She stumbled to a halt, her tennis shoes sliding against the pavement. The door opened and a man stepped out. Trinity’s jaw dropped. Damn. She blinked, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no, he was still there.

  He was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. From the top of his

  thick, midnight black hair to the bottom of his black boots. He.

  Was. Perfect.

  His features were classically handsome. He had high, strong cheekbones and a straight, elegant nose. His jaw
was firm, and his mouth… she swallowed… the man had the most deliciously sinful mouth she’d ever seen.

  What would that mouth taste like?

  She blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. She wasn’t the type to lust after strange men. Hell, she was hardly the type to lust at all. But there was something about this man…

  He walked toward her and she realized then that she’d been staring at him, her mouth hanging wide open. She snapped her lips closed and backed up a quick step. “Uh… can I help you?” God, the man was tall. He had to be at least six foot three, maybe four.

  He definitely towered over her own five foot five frame.

  He was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a white tee shirt.

  She could see the hard line of his chest beneath the shirt, see his sculpted muscles. His straining biceps…

  Down, girl.

  He smiled at her, flashing a dimple. “Oui, I’m afraid that my companions and I are a bit lost.” He spoke with a faint French accent. “We are looking for Maple Lane.”

  She lived on Maple Lane. 104 Maple Lane. Third house on the left. Lifting her hand, she pointed to the street just up ahead, the street the limo had passed right by. “It’s… ah… right there.”

  The man didn’t look toward the street. Instead, his gaze swept over her. The moonlight shone down on them, and she realized he had golden eyes, dark, molten gold. His gaze drifted over her, lingering on the tips of her breasts and the bare expanse of her legs.

  She shivered, feeling the weight of that stare as if it were a physical touch.

  His gaze lifted. “You shouldn’t be out here… alone.” He motioned toward the limo. “Come with us, and I’ll take you home.”

  She shook her head. Sexy or not, there was no way she was going to get into the car with him. She watched the news. She knew all about the horror stories. Take a ride with a handsome stranger…

  end up dead. “Thanks, but I can make it home on my own. My…

  um… my house isn’t that far from here.” She forced a smile to her lips, shivering slightly as she felt the sweat drying on her skin.

  He frowned and glanced behind her at the dark, empty road.

  The howl split the night once again.

  Her stomach clenched. “Look, I’ve really got to go—”

  He grabbed her arm, pulling her against his chest. His arms felt like steel bands around her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she screeched, struggling

  against his hold.

  His arms tightened. His gaze was locked on the darkness behind her. “You’re too late,” he muttered.

  “What?” What was he talking about? “Too late for what?” She jerked against him, but his hold was unbreakable. “Listen, buddy, I want you to let me go, now!”

  Two other men climbed from the limousine, both tall and well-muscled. And absolutely freaking gorgeous.

  “You have to come with me,” her captor said, turning the full force of his golden stare on her. “It’s not safe here for you.”

  Yeah, she was really starting to get that impression. Three really big men were surrounding her, and some kind of dog was howling in the distance.

  “Let me go,” she snapped.

  He shook his head.

  She kicked him in the shin as hard as she could.

  He grunted in surprise and released her.

  She spun around and took off running.

  “Trinity, stop!”

  She glanced back, her eyes widening. How the hell did he know her name?

  He was running after her, his features locked and tense.

  Real fear lashed through her. She kept running as fast as she could until her thighs burned and her breath panted out. She could see the line of houses, could see the cheerful lights. Her neighbors were up there. If she could just get their attention—

  She opened her mouth to scream.

  He tackled her to the ground.

  The beast within Gareth growled as he looked down at the

  sprawled form of his soon-to-be mate.

  He fought the urge to strip her. To yank the running shorts off her long, shapely legs and to thrust deep, deep inside of her.

  When she’d run from him, she’d aroused all of his primal hunting instincts. Now that he’d caught her, he wanted to claim her. To sink into her moist warmth and lose himself in the promise of her body.

  He shifted, rolling her beneath him so that she faced him. Her chest was heaving, her limbs shaking. Her body was trapped beneath his now. Her breasts, high, firm breasts, were pushing against his chest, and her thighs were trapped between his legs. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. A wealth of raven black hair framed her heart-shaped face. She had high, delicate cheekbones, and a small, straight little nose. Her lips were full, tempting. He couldn’t wait to kiss those lips.

  And her scent… God, her scent was wrapping around him,

  seducing him. Driving him crazy. He lowered his head toward her neck, his nostrils flaring. She smelled like flowers, like the night.

  Like woman.

  He growled. He’d been waiting for her for so very long. He opened his mouth, needing to taste her. Just one taste.

  She screamed, bucking her body beneath his. His head jerked back, and he stared down at her in confusion.

  “Get. Off. Me. You. Psycho.” She gritted the words from between clenched teeth.

  He frowned.

  “Gareth.” Alerac hurried toward them. His blond hair seemed to shine in the night. “We have to go.”

  He didn’t want to go. He wanted to take his mate. There, beneath the night sky. Wanted to claim her and hear the sound of her moans filling the air.

  “It’s not safe for her,” Alerac said, carefully averting his gaze from their bodies.

  Gareth clenched his jaw, knowing that Alerac spoke the truth.

  He’d heard the howl earlier. He knew the rogue wolf was in the area. He had to take Trinity away from there.

  He rose, pulling her to her feet, his fingers locked around her wrist. “You have to come with me,” he told her, casting an glance toward the row of houses. Had anyone heard her scream?

  “I don’t have to do anything,” his mate snapped, tugging on her arm. “Now let me go!” She aimed another kick at his shin.

  Gareth jerked her toward him, trapping her against his chest.

  His arms tightened around her. “I don’t think you understand what’s happening,” he said, the words almost a growl.

  “Oh, yeah, I do.” She glared up at him, her stare fierce. “You and your boys are trying to attack me!”

  He shook his head. “No, we’re trying to protect you.”

  Her lip curled, showing a hint of her sharp, white teeth. “Right.”

  Anger flashed through him. No one had ever doubted his word before. No one. And to find that the woman he would bond with dared to question him…

  He felt his control begin to slip.

  “Now let me go!” She was squirming against him, pressing her breasts against his chest, rubbing her body against his.

  He captured her pointed little chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m here to protect you. You’re my mate.” It was his duty, his right, to protect her.

  Her eyes widened. “I’m your what?” She swallowed, and he

  saw the quick movement of her throat. “Listen, buddy, I don’t even know you.”

  “You will,” he promised, his gaze dropping to her lips. “You’ll know me very well.” And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, because he didn’t want to stop himself, he lowered his head, and he kissed her. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue sweeping against her mouth. She gasped, and her lips, those soft, luscious lips, parted for him. He growled low in his throat, the sound one of triumph, of satisfaction.

  He thrust his tongue into her mouth, eagerly claiming the sweetness that waited for him. She tasted so good. Like innocence. Like sin.

  She wasn’t fighting him; instead, she
was leaning toward him, her mouth meeting his in wild abandon.

  He’d wanted this, wanted her, for so long. Now she was within his grasp. His to take.

  He could feel her breasts, feel the sharp points of her nipples pressing against his chest. He wanted to taste those nipples.

  Wanted to lick them, suck them. Wanted to feel them in his mouth, against his tongue.

  Trinity jerked her head back, staring at him with wide eyes. Her lips were moist, glistening, and he lowered his head, wanting to taste them again.

  “Stop!” She strained against him. “Let me go!”

  Never. He shook his head.

  “Gareth…” There was a definite warning edge to Alerac’s voice.

  He swallowed and nodded. They had to leave. He had to get his mate to safety. He lifted her up, easily hoisting her over his shoulder.

  She screamed again and pounded her fists against his back. “Put me down, you bastard!”

  He ignored her. He tightened his arm around her legs when she tried to kick him and headed toward the waiting limo.

  Alerac followed at his heels.

  “Let me go!” she screeched, jerking hard against his hold.

  Michael, Gareth’s cousin and trusted friend, had stayed by the car. When he saw their approach, he hurriedly opened the back door. A smile curved his lips. “Your mate has spirit.” There was admiration in his voice.

  Trinity froze. “What? What did he just say?”

  Gareth eased her off his back and let her feet touch the pavement. She immediately tried to sprint away from him.

  Michael caught her, locking his arm around her waist. “Sorry, mademoiselle, but I can’t let you leave.”

  Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “What the hell is this?”

  Her gaze darted between the men. “Am I being kidnapped by male models?”

  A quick bark of laughter slid past Alerac’s lips.

  Gareth frowned at him, then directed his attention back to Trinity. “Get into the car.”

  She didn’t budge. “Who are you?”

  Your mate. Gareth had to bite back the instinctive response. “My name is Gareth Morlet.” He bowed to her.

  She looked at him as if he were crazy. “Look, Frenchie, get the hell out of my way, and I won’t call the cops on you when I get home.”