Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel by VickiLewis Thompson

rush of water indicated she’d turned on the shower.
    Moments later, the shower-curtain rings scraped across the rod as she stepped in. The aroma of almonds became more prominent, and he imagined her using scented soap on her lithe body. Then she began to sing some popular song about rainbows.
    Sharp longing overshadowed the ache in his side. Being here with her in such an intimate way was far more tortuous than he’d anticipated. He should have known, though. Hiding in the shadows night after night had been a small taste of what he was experiencing now.
    What a ridiculous situation he’d created for himself. Had he managed to save her while in human form, they at least could have spent the evening together and shared a conversation, maybe even a glass of wine. He wouldn’t have allowed himself to get carried away, because that would violate his code, but they could have talked.
    But as he listened to the water run and imagined her standing naked in the shower, he wondered if his code would have been strong enough to stop him from seducing her. Maybe not. In wolf form, he had no opportunity to go against his beliefs. So this situation, maddening as it was, saved him from making a huge mistake.
    Sometime later, Rachel shut off the light in the bathroom and walked over to the bedroom window. From his truncated view he could see that her ankles and calves were bare, but he couldn’t tell whether she slept in pajamas or in the nude.
    “Wow, it’s warm tonight. I sure won’t need the quilt I gave you, wolf. The one you’re not using, as it turns out. But it’s downright hot in here, don’t you think?”
    Yes, he did. Speculating that she might sleep nude made the room seem even hotter. He was overheated and squished under her bed, but he wasn’t going to come out and take a chance she’d try wielding that pink razor again.
    “I should probably keep the window closed, but it’s stifling. I say we open it a crack. The security latch might not stop a bear, but it’ll slow one down, and at least we’ll have a breeze.” The window creaked and cool air slipped through the small opening. “Ah, that’s better.”
    She walked back to the bed. “Alert me if you hear a bear at the window, okay?” Then she climbed in.
    To preserve his sanity, Jake pictured her wearing pajamas. Baggy, opaque ones with no style whatsoever.
    The sheets rustled, and she switched off the bedside lamp. “Good night, wolf.”
    Good night, Rachel.
He closed his eyes and hoped to hell he’d be able to sleep.
    Time lost all meaning as he lay in his cramped position thinking of her stretched out only inches above him, maybe naked, maybe not. Perhaps he’d been there three minutes, perhaps three hours. In the end, he concluded he’d been stuffed under the bed too long and he was too damned close to Rachel. He might start howling if he didn’t get out of there.
    He listened to her breathe. Slow and steady. No movement of sheets or innerspring. She must be asleep. He hoped so, because he was vacating his hidey-hole. The space was not designed for a full-grown male werewolf.
    Moving carefully, he eased to the foot of the bed and stuck his nose out. Then he listened again. The rhythm of her breathing hadn’t changed. So far, so good.
    He worked his shoulders free, wincing at the pain in his side. Rachel slept on. Another few seconds, and he was out and standing on wobbly legs. Ahh.
    Moving slowly across the wooden floor, he walked into her living room. The endless twilight of an Alaskan summer night allowed him to see the room clearly, and he took a look around.
    Typical cabin furniture filled the space. If he had to guess, he’d say she’d kept most of Ike’s stuff—a sofa and two chairs made of sturdy wood and green plaid cushions that had faded over the years. They were gathered in front of a rock fireplace positioned between the windows that looked out on the back deck. An oval rag rug and a scarred coffee table completed the