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“You should know better than to listen to office talk. After all, they had us married off within three weeks of us starting to date.”

So did I. Of course, we’d only lasted a total of six weeks. I looked away and blinked back tears. Damn it, this is why it was a bad idea to speak to him.

He pulled into a side street, and began to slow the car down. Old two-story houses rubbed shoulders with interesting little shops, but none of them resembled a café or anything actually open.

“Here we are,” he said, stopping the car in front of a pretty blue and white two-story building.

“And where is here?” I asked, looking up at the window boxes filled with greenery.

“Mom’s,” he said, and got out of the car.

“What?” But I was talking to thin air. Or thick air, in his case. I waited until he opened my door and added, “I am not going inside to meet your mother.”

Especially when she had totally disapproved of me and Brodie going out.

“Well, good, because she’s not there. No one is. They’re all at my gran’s for the night.”

He took my hand and tugged lightly. I remained right where I was.

“Then why are we even here? You know how your mom feels about me.”

“That isn’t a problem anymore, trust me. Besides, you wanted triple chocolate with fresh cream, and my mom bakes the best you’ll ever taste. Come on.”

He tugged harder, leaving me with little choice. With the bells on my feet ringing joyously, I untangled my legs from my coat and got out.

“We need to get you some decent clothes,” he said, his gaze sweeping me critically but still managing to leave me feeling all hot and bothered. “You look rather cold and wet.”

He opened the gate and began leading me up the garden path. In more ways than one, I suspected.

“That’s because I am cold and wet. And I have perfectly decent clothes waiting for me at home. You need to take me back there.”

“If I do, you won’t come back here.”

“So?”

“So, all the progress I’ve made this evening will go sliding away, and I’ll be back to being the rat.”

“But you’ve never stopped being the rat,” I said sweetly. “So what’s the problem?”

He laughed, a warm rich sound that slid across my skin as sensuously as a caress. He opened the door and waved me inside. I slid past and tried without success to ignore the tangy heat of him. The way my body ached to press forward just that little bit more, and feel all that heat against my skin.

Hello, last Christmas? Remember that? Remember the whole he’s a bad man and we don’t like him spiel?

I remembered. Unfortunately, I also remembered how good it felt being with him, and no matter how much I told myself I was just setting myself up for more heartache, I couldn’t help the need to soak in the warmth of his presence one more time.

You’re a sap. And an idiot.

And it’s Christmas, and I’m lonely.

It was dark inside the house, but the air was warm and smelled ever so slightly of baking. I sniffed lightly as I hung my coat up on the nearby hook. While the hints of ginger and vanilla were strong, they were underlined by an animal mustiness, and it was a strong reminder that this wasn’t any ordinary house. That this was the abode of werewolves.

He caught my hand, his fingers so warm against mine. “This way.” He led me up a set of stairs and into a bathroom. “There’s clean towels on the shelf above the bath, and a clean robe behind the door.”

“Brodie—”

He stopped the words with a short, sharp kiss that left me breathless and yet wanting more. “I’ll have coffee and cake waiting downstairs.”

And with that, he left me standing there, staring in shock at the back of a door. This night was so not going to plan. Well, not to my plans, at least. It was becoming a little obvious that he had a whole lot more planned for his Christmas than just catching a killer.

I blew out a breath and began to strip off. I had two choices—stay or leave—and as much as I knew it was a stupid move, I wanted the cake, and the coffee, and his company for a little bit longer.

I might well be setting myself up for another crappy Christmas, but it was supposed to be the season of goodwill to all men, wasn’t it? And Brodie was definitely a man . . .

And I was reaching for straws in an effort to justify the stupidity of my actions.

I shoved the thoughts away and took a shower, then donned my still-wet underwear. I’d rather risk getting a chill than being naked around Brodie. After wrapping myself up in the thick, fluffy gown, I finger-combed my short hair then I grabbed the sodden elf outfit and headed downstairs. Following his scent led me into the rich-smelling warmth of the kitchen.

He was pouring coffee into a mug, and there were two huge slabs of cake already sitting on a tray.

“Where can I dry these?” I asked.

“Are they shrink proof?”

“Well, they didn’t shrink on me.”

He smiled. It did my pulse rate absolutely no good whatsoever. “There’s a clothes dryer through there,” he said, nodding toward the door to the right.

I shoved the clothes in the dryer, then headed back into the kitchen. “We eating here?”

He shook his head. “In the living room. It’s warmer. You want to grab the cake tray?”

I did, and followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room. A huge log fire was the room’s main feature, but it was the Christmas tree that drew my eye. It was big, lush, and totally without decoration, except for the fake snow that adorned the end of the dipping branches. It reminded me of a tree in the middle of a snow-swept forest, and maybe that was the whole point.

“That kind of dwarfs my tree,” I said, putting the tray down on the coffee table.

“The tree you had last year had character,” he commented, and offered me a mug.

I smiled. “Both that tree and this year’s are very sad representations of the Christmas tree.”

He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside him. I retreated to the fire, standing with my back to it.

Amusement teased his mouth. “So why buy them?”

“Because they looked lonely.”

His gaze met mine, green eyes holding touches of amusement and something else. Something that had my pulse skipping. Not lust. Something deeper. Stronger.

“It’s a rotten thing,” he said softly, “being lonely at Christmas.”

I didn’t bite. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I stepped away from the fire to avoid burning my butt, and picked up a plate of cake instead.

“How are we going to catch this vampire before he kills again?” I spooned some cake into my mouth and felt my knees go weak. Damn, this was good chocolate cake.

“The team is still working on possible locations given everything we’ve seen and I’ve scented at the crime scenes. If they find something, they’ll contact us.”

He leaned forward to pick up the other plate of cake, and my fingers suddenly itched with the need to run through his thick, dark hair. I gripped the spoon harder.

“Other than that,” he continued, “we just have to hope the bait plan works.”

“It’s difficult to catch someone when they can up and fly away.”

“If it was that easy for him to shift shape, he would have flown the coop earlier. Are you going to sit down?”

“Are you going to make any moves on me?”

Again that sexy smile teased his mouth. “Do you want me to?”

Yes, yes, yes. “No.”

“Why not?”

I just about choked on my cake. “Why do you think why not?”

“Because I’m a rat?”

“That would be a good start.”

“Because I forgot to call you for Christmas?”

“And my birthday. And Valentine’s.”

“That’s true. I did, however, buy you presents for both. Does that count?”