A Werewolf in Manhattan Read Free

Doug, who was also her CPA. Doug might have been world-class when it came to preparing her tax returns, but apparently he didn’t know jack shit about pleasing her in bed.
    Doug had spent the night at Emma’s loft exactly four times in three months. Aidan had balked at putting a camera in her bedroom, both to respect her privacy and protect his sanity. But the audio from the living-room camera had picked up the sounds of a couple having sex in the bedroom. Sad to say, he hadn’t detected much excitement. Doug seemed to have the energy quotient of a stale bagel.
    Emma deserved somebody more inspired, somebody more ardent. Aidan wondered whether she was so busy with her career that she simply lacked the time to search out a better alternative to Doug. Then, too, her taxes were probably complicated, and a good CPA was hard to find.
    As Aidan contemplated Emma’s sorry excuse for a sex life, Betty Gavin walked past him, holding her signed book.
    She paused. “Aren’t you Aidan Wallace?”
    “Guilty as charged.”
    Betty smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Emma’s mother. She told me you read her books. I think she’s proud of that.”
    Aidan shook her hand and took note that Betty had a firm grip. His contacts had assured him that, in the office where she worked, she was a force to be reckoned with. “Your daughter’s a gifted writer.”
    It was the right thing to say. Betty beamed as if he’d handed her an Academy Award, and her blue eyes, so like Emma’s, glowed with pride. “She’s amazing. I don’t know where she gets all those ideas.”
    That was the very question that had the Wallace pack so agitated, but he couldn’t say that. “I guess she’s just creative.”
    “Yes, she certainly is.” Betty looked over toward the bookstore entrance. “I was so hoping Doug would surprise her at the last minute and show up.” She glanced at Aidan. “That’s her boyfriend. But he had a Rotary meeting tonight.”
    “You’d think he’d want to be here.” No, shit—he should be here.
    “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Emma just finished a book early this morning, and she likes to celebrate after turning in a manuscript. I wish I could stay and party with her, but my office called an early meeting, and if I don’t head home I’ll sleep through it.”
    “Maybe her boyfriend will show up.” Aidan wondered how tuned in the guy could have been if he didn’t know about Emma’s habit of celebrating when she met a deadline.
    “Maybe he will. Anyway, I have to go.” Betty patted his arm. “It’s almost your turn, anyway. Thanks for coming to her signings. I know she’s thrilled about that.” She walked away clutching her book.
    Aidan figured she’d paid full price for it, too, because she wanted to support her daughter’s career. He admired that kind of loyalty.
    Just then, the woman in front of him walked away with her signed book, which left him as the only autograph seeker in the vicinity. Emma’s scent hit him full force, and he steeled himself against the urge to reach across the table and pull her right out of her chair and into his arms.
    That the thought crossed his mind was a warning signal. Years of training had subdued his animal instincts, but no amount of training would eliminate them completely. He would be careful.
    “Aidan Wallace!” Emma smiled as she stood and held out her hand. “I saw you in the audience, and I was hoping you’d stick around.”
    Aidan put down the book in order to take her hand. “Had to get an autograph before you head off on your tour.” Her hand was ice-cold, and he unconsciously sandwiched it between both of his. Not good. He released her hand and cleared his throat. “Congratulations on your new book.”
    “Thank you, Aidan.” Her blue eyes sparkled in welcome, but her makeup couldn’t disguise purple smudges underneath those incredible eyes.
    She needed a vacation, not a book tour. He thought of his ancestral home near Sitka, Alaska. The remote