of it all. “There was something wrong in his brain, something that wouldn’t show up on a brain scan for humans. We didn’t exactly have a lot of resources to consult. I just tried to keep him on an even keel as much as I could.”
“There was no one in the shifter community you could talk to?”
Her shoulders shrugged. “Oh, we tried. No one had ever heard of a healthy shifter becoming bipolar. Shifters are supposed to be immune to such human diseases. People thought we were exaggerating the symptoms, that Paul was just hot-headed. The only person who listened to me was Wes, my second cousin. The man you saw me with.”
Soren felt heat color his cheeks at the reminder of how he’d flipped out on Gioia and her relative. “Did he know what to do?”
She looked him right in the eye. Soren wove a little, even though he was sitting at the table, and grabbed onto the hard surface. Her eyes were just so pretty and so dark. Tons of clichés about bottomless pools of desire floated through his brain.
“No,” she confirmed quietly. “No one did. But at least Wes was a support system for me. He spent a lot of time with us, ate meals with us to keep me company. If it hadn’t been for him taking Paul out for a beer every few evenings, I would have gone insane.”
“Why didn’t you leave Paul?”
Her lips compressed, making her appear determined and all too sexy for his peace of mind. “Because he was my husband and a good man. If he’d understood what he was doing to me, it would have destroyed him. He had a gentle soul. Besides, I don’t give up on those I love.”
They stared at each other for long seconds while Soren’s heart palpitated. Who was this woman? She resembled a cute bird but had tenacity the likes of which he’d never known. Gioia was so kind and strong it put him to shame.
The waiter arrived with a steaming platter of food. As hungry as Soren was, he was tempted to tell the man to piss off. He didn’t want any more interruptions. He wanted to know more about Gioia, and about Gunnar too, and then he wanted to see what he could do to make her really smile again. Not the sham smile she used in polite company. A genuine, knock-your-socks-off, feel it in your wobbly knees, happy smile.
“Madam ordered the risotto,” intoned the waiter with the sexed-up voice of an announcer at a strip joint, while carefully placing the platter in front of Gioia. “A wonderful choice.” He didn’t even look at Soren as he thrust another plate toward him. “T-bone.”
“Thanks.” His bear grumbled at the waiter. Piss off, piss off, piss off .
Just as Gioia leaned in to inhale the rosy scent of her flowery risotto, Soren heard a crash at the restaurant entrance. Someone was making a commotion. He looked up, only to see the host restraining someone at the door.
“I don’t have a goddamn reservation! I just need to come in for a minute.”
Gioia’s head snapped up at the man’s voice. Any color in her cheeks drained quickly. She whispered, “Oh, no.”
As Soren’s protective instinct took hold, he assessed the situation. He checked out the man and recognized him as Gioia’s cousin Wes. There was no mistaking the muscled shifter. Only there was something different about him. Earlier, he hadn’t looked quite so crazed, but there was now a bright desperation in his eyes. Soren knew that look. It was a quickly growing hunger.
The man craned his head, noticed Gioia, and called out to her. “Gioia! I need to see you.” He broke free from the host’s grip and dashed into the room, stopping at their table. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes were narrowed on her in lust.
Oh, no, you don’t .
Soren stood and positioned himself before her. He addressed the man. “You need to take a step back, buddy.”
Wes pulled himself to his full height. “I could say the same to you, buddy .”
“Stop!” Gioia jumped out of her seat and tried to look around Soren. She glared at the other man. “Wes, what
“There was no one in the shifter community you could talk to?”
Her shoulders shrugged. “Oh, we tried. No one had ever heard of a healthy shifter becoming bipolar. Shifters are supposed to be immune to such human diseases. People thought we were exaggerating the symptoms, that Paul was just hot-headed. The only person who listened to me was Wes, my second cousin. The man you saw me with.”
Soren felt heat color his cheeks at the reminder of how he’d flipped out on Gioia and her relative. “Did he know what to do?”
She looked him right in the eye. Soren wove a little, even though he was sitting at the table, and grabbed onto the hard surface. Her eyes were just so pretty and so dark. Tons of clichés about bottomless pools of desire floated through his brain.
“No,” she confirmed quietly. “No one did. But at least Wes was a support system for me. He spent a lot of time with us, ate meals with us to keep me company. If it hadn’t been for him taking Paul out for a beer every few evenings, I would have gone insane.”
“Why didn’t you leave Paul?”
Her lips compressed, making her appear determined and all too sexy for his peace of mind. “Because he was my husband and a good man. If he’d understood what he was doing to me, it would have destroyed him. He had a gentle soul. Besides, I don’t give up on those I love.”
They stared at each other for long seconds while Soren’s heart palpitated. Who was this woman? She resembled a cute bird but had tenacity the likes of which he’d never known. Gioia was so kind and strong it put him to shame.
The waiter arrived with a steaming platter of food. As hungry as Soren was, he was tempted to tell the man to piss off. He didn’t want any more interruptions. He wanted to know more about Gioia, and about Gunnar too, and then he wanted to see what he could do to make her really smile again. Not the sham smile she used in polite company. A genuine, knock-your-socks-off, feel it in your wobbly knees, happy smile.
“Madam ordered the risotto,” intoned the waiter with the sexed-up voice of an announcer at a strip joint, while carefully placing the platter in front of Gioia. “A wonderful choice.” He didn’t even look at Soren as he thrust another plate toward him. “T-bone.”
“Thanks.” His bear grumbled at the waiter. Piss off, piss off, piss off .
Just as Gioia leaned in to inhale the rosy scent of her flowery risotto, Soren heard a crash at the restaurant entrance. Someone was making a commotion. He looked up, only to see the host restraining someone at the door.
“I don’t have a goddamn reservation! I just need to come in for a minute.”
Gioia’s head snapped up at the man’s voice. Any color in her cheeks drained quickly. She whispered, “Oh, no.”
As Soren’s protective instinct took hold, he assessed the situation. He checked out the man and recognized him as Gioia’s cousin Wes. There was no mistaking the muscled shifter. Only there was something different about him. Earlier, he hadn’t looked quite so crazed, but there was now a bright desperation in his eyes. Soren knew that look. It was a quickly growing hunger.
The man craned his head, noticed Gioia, and called out to her. “Gioia! I need to see you.” He broke free from the host’s grip and dashed into the room, stopping at their table. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes were narrowed on her in lust.
Oh, no, you don’t .
Soren stood and positioned himself before her. He addressed the man. “You need to take a step back, buddy.”
Wes pulled himself to his full height. “I could say the same to you, buddy .”
“Stop!” Gioia jumped out of her seat and tried to look around Soren. She glared at the other man. “Wes, what
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