Werewolf in Manhattan Read online

  Barry swerved to the curb, put the car in Park and came around to open the door for them.

  “We shouldn’t be long, Barry.” Aidan climbed out and offered his hand to Emma.

  She gave him a sympathetic glance. “I’m afraid we can’t just make an appearance and leave. We’ll need to stay a couple of hours.”

  Aidan sighed. “Okay. See you a little after nine, Barry.” Two hours in a crowded, noisy space would be hell on his ears, but he’d deal with it.

  “I’ll be here.” Barry returned to the driver’s seat.

  Emma hugged her coat around her and gazed up at the second floor of the bar. “I’m afraid this won’t be anything like the place you took me on Wednesday night.”

  “You mean Jessie’s?”

  “Yes. I love the atmosphere there.”

  “I do, too.” He longed to say they’d go again when she came back from her tour, but he knew they wouldn’t. The heated glance that had passed between them after dinner tonight told him that he couldn’t afford to spend any more evenings with Emma. He wanted her too much.

  One glance and he’d felt the beginnings of a shift. Had she stayed a moment longer, she would have heard his low growl of frustration. While she’d been in the bedroom getting ready for the party, he’d sat on the couch pretending to watch a basketball game while waiting for that shift to reverse. Thankfully, it had.

  “We should go in,” Emma said.

  “Before we do, let me say something.” He realized that out here on the street was a kind of safety zone where they could talk without anyone hearing them, and yet he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her into his arms.

  She turned to him. “I’m listening.”

  He took a moment to enjoy how great she looked standing there in her black trench coat, a snazzy little red evening purse on a chain over her shoulder. Her blonde hair curled around her raised collar and her blue eyes…ah, how he loved gazing into those eyes, whether they were filled with laughter or lust.

  “Aidan? You wanted to say something?”

  “Uh, yes. Sorry.” He gathered his thoughts, which had scattered when he looked into her eyes. “I want to apologize for not giving you all the information about Theo immediately. You had the right to know that he belongs to a prominent Chicago family, and that the Wallaces have ties to that family.”

  “But if you’d told me, chances are I never would have allowed you to come along.”

  “That wasn’t the reason for not telling you, though. My father wanted me to handle this as quietly as possible so there wouldn’t be any ill-will between the two families. Having you in the loop wouldn’t have furthered that cause. I accepted that rationale.”

  “Of course you did. He’s your father, and besides, you work for him. I was angry at first, but I get it now.”

  “The thing is, I should have told you, anyway. I should have trusted you with the information.”

  “Not necessarily. You don’t know me all that well. How could you be sure how I’d react?”

  “I suppose you’re right.” But he knew her better than she thought he did. After spending three months watching her behavior in many different situations, he knew she was trustworthy.

  “In any case, rest easy on that point, Aidan. I don’t blame you anymore, and I promise to have only good memories of you.”

  “Same here.” He fought the urge to pull her close, but that’s why he was standing out on the sidewalk saying this instead of waiting until they were back in the penthouse.

  She clasped her hands together. “So, apology accepted. Ready to face the crowd?”

  “In a minute. There’s something else.”

  “Okay.”

  “When we get back to the penthouse, I’m going straight to my bedroom, and I’m asking you to go straight to yours. If we linger at all, I…we can’t linger, Emma. I’m not that strong.”

  Her gaze softened. “Me, either.”

  “So you’re okay with that plan?”

  “No, but I’ll do it. We have to be smart about…we just have to be smart.”

  “Yes, we do. Emma, I wish—”

  “Don’t say another word, Aidan. You’ll only make things worse. Let’s go in.” She started toward the entrance of the bar.

  With a sigh he followed her. She was right. He needed to shut the hell up before he said something they’d both regret.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Emma, it’s me, Sylvia. From the book signing.”

  Emma peered through the eyeholes of the ugliest plastic werewolf mask in the world. “Hey, Sylvia! I never would have recognized you.”

  “I know! Isn’t this a great mask?”

  “It’s scary, all right.” The werewolf’s lips were pulled back in a snarl worthy of the creepiest horror movie.

  “I improvised the rest. I think it works, don’t you?” Sylvia gestured to her baggy grey sweat suit and fuzzy grey slippers.

  “Absolutely.” Emma took another gulp of her wine.

  “Want to hear me howl?”

  “Uh, well, I—”

  “Owwwoooooo!”

  “Nice howl.” Emma drank more wine.

  “This is the best party. I’ve been groped twice.”

  “Groped? By whom?”

  “I don’t know! That’s the fun part of a masked ball, you know. This isn’t exactly a ball, but we’re all in disguise, so it’s the same idea. A little pinch here, a little nudge there. It’s all in good fun.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” This was Emma’s idea of hell. She liked to look into people’s faces when she talked to them. That was how she gauged reactions to the conversation. Everyone here, with the exception of Aidan and the waiters, had dressed up as a werewolf. Emma stood in a sea of fur trying to get her bearings.

  The crowd milled around her, jostling her sometimes, stopping to chat other times. She’d initiated a few exchanges herself by commenting on the costumes.

  The Werewolves and Wine club members had been nice enough. Many of them had made a point of coming over to say how much they enjoyed her books. A few had brought copies from home for her to sign, which she did happily. These were hard-core fans, and she knew they talked her up at bookstores and on the Internet.

  But she couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t really need her here. She’d created the world, but they’d made it their own and now she was extraneous. They didn’t mind her being here, but they viewed her as essentially an outsider. If she’d been one of them, she would have come in costume.

  Throughout the evening, she’d studied the people in attendance in case one of them turned out to be Theo. She’d only seen him briefly in the bookstore, but she remembered he was tall, well over six feet, and lanky. She’d kept track of one guy who fit that description, but when he’d approached her, his voice had sounded nothing like Theo’s. She was sure she’d recognize that voice again if she heard it.

  Aidan had stayed within sight, and she found comfort in watching him interact with the costumed guests. He knew how to work a room, and she suspected he was working this one to make sure Theo didn’t slip in unnoticed. She wondered what Aidan would do if Theo did show up.

  Would he take him outside and put the fear of God into him with a little physical intimidation? She didn’t doubt it. As much as she’d protested that she didn’t need or want a bodyguard for this trip, she was grateful to have Aidan at this party sifting through the crowd. He drank only mineral water, and she appreciated that, too.

  He was working on her behalf. Sure, he was working for his family, too, but he’d said her safety was his primary concern, and he was an honorable man. She believed him.

  She also wanted him with a fierce longing that no amount of wine could mute. No doubt other women in the room wanted him, too. He looked like a model out of GQ with his hand-tailored suit and his white silk shirt open at the neck. Emma smiled as she thought of Sylvia, who wouldn’t be above pinching Aidan’s butt as she glided by.

  The noise level grew, and
Emma cast a surreptitious glance at her watch. Twenty minutes to go before Barry would arrive to save them. Yet once he did, they would go straight back to the hotel and separate for the night. At least here she could admire Aidan from afar.

  As if he sensed her gaze on him, his head came up and he looked straight at her. She smiled and hoisted her glass in his direction, toasting his party skills. He smiled back at her, but then someone demanded his attention and he turned away again.

  “He’s a cutie-pie.”

  Emma looked for the person who’d made that comment and found Sylvia standing beside her with her mask pushed to the top of her head. She held a plate of finger food in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other.

  “He is that,” Emma agreed.

  “Nice buns.”

  “Intelligent, too.”

  “He has intelligent buns? Does that make him a smartass?”

  Emma laughed. “You’re too quick for me, Sylvia.”

  “Nah, I’m just an old lady. But I’ve seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you. You two would make beautiful babies together.”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sylvia, but Aidan and I aren’t a couple.”

  “Really?” Sylvia glanced from Aidan to Emma. “You look like you are, always keeping track of each other. I thought you must be together. I was hearing wedding bells.”

  “Won’t be happening.”

  “Then I guess I can tell you that I did a stealth-pinch move on him.”

  Emma grinned. “I can pretty much guess what that is.”

  “I’m sure you can. I sidle over, pretending I’m listening in on the conversation, and then bam! I pinch and leave. But I could barely do the stealth pinch on him. He has a very firm butt.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, really?” Sylvia widened her eyes as if shocked by the news. “How would you know that, missy?”

  “I’ll never tell.”

  Sylvia set her plate down on a nearby table and waggled her finger at Emma. “Men like that don’t come along every day. I should know. My Ned was one-of-a-kind. We were married for fifty-two years. I’m still mad at him for leaving me.”

  “He left you?”

  Sylvia shrugged. “He had to. He died.”

  “Oh, Sylvia, I’m sorry. That must have been very hard.”

  “It was. I felt really punk for a couple of years. But life goes on. I picked up one of your books and after reading it, I said to myself, Sylvia, there are still men out there to pinch! So I’m back in the game.” She picked up her plate again. “I’m off to get more food. Thanks for keeping me young, Emma.”

  In the general category of compliments, Emma thought that was an outstanding one. Maybe this party hadn’t been such a lost cause, after all. And she’d been able to Aidan-watch for a solid two hours.

  About that time he walked over and stood beside her. “How are you holding up?”

  “Not too bad. You?”

  “I’ve been pinched a time or two.”

  Emma smiled to herself. “I’m not surprised.” She studied the crowd. “I never did see him. I don’t think he came tonight.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “You sound very sure of that.”

  Aidan set his glass of mineral water on the table next to them. “That’s because I am very sure of that. He didn’t show, which is good. Maybe he gave up after last night’s fiasco. He has a book thanks to his friend Terry.”

  “Maybe Nadia talked to him and convinced him to back off.”

  “Maybe.”

  Someone jostled Emma and she grabbed her purse as it started to slide down her shoulder. “It’s really crowded in here. The party hasn’t been as arduous as I expected, but I’m ready to leave.”

  Aidan shot his cuffs and checked his watch. “Barry should be down there in about five minutes.”

  She couldn’t resist teasing him. “I saw how you did that maneuver. You like checking your limited edition watch, don’t you?”

  He glanced over at her and smiled. “It’s elegant. I appreciate elegance.”

  Her good mood evaporated. “Like Nadia,” she said without thinking.

  “I’ll admit Nadia is elegant,” he said. “But so are you.”

  “Me? I’m short and stubby.”

  “Stubby? Hardly.”

  “Maybe stubby is too harsh, and I guess I’m sort of cute, but nobody, and I mean nobody has ever accused me of being elegant.”

  He touched her cheek, his fingers very warm. “Then consider yourself accused.”

  Although he removed his hand almost immediately, Emma felt the imprint of his fingers as they said their goodbyes, retrieved their coats, and walked back down the stairs to the street where Barry waited.

  Elegant. He was just being nice, of course. They were close to the end of this adventure, so he could afford to be nice. In a few minutes they’d go up to the penthouse and into their isolation units, or at least that’s the way she’d begun to think of their separate bedrooms.

  The car ride was quick and silent. Emma concluded that both of them were thinking about the night ahead and their vow not to have anything to do with each other. She forgot that they needed to give Barry instructions about picking her up for the flight to Denver in the morning.

  Aidan, ever the efficient one, didn’t forget. “Emma’s flight leaves at ten-twenty,” he said. “So if you’ll pick her up at eight, that should give her enough time to clear security.”

  “You’re not going to the airport with me?” Somehow she’d expected him to.

  “If Theo didn’t show up tonight, I don’t think he’ll cause a problem in the morning. He’s nineteen. Typically they aren’t morning people.”

  “So we’re home free.”

  “Looks like it. Now, I’ll be happy to go to the airport with you if you want me to, but my flight back to New York doesn’t leave until one, so…”

  “No, no. I’ll go to the airport on my own. No worries.” She felt abandoned, which was stupid. She’d traveled alone for several years, and Aidan was undoubtedly right about Theo. If he hadn’t made a move at this point, he wasn’t likely to do so.

  Aidan used his key to get them on the right elevator and then into the penthouse. She’d thought of digging hers out to prove that she could get her own self into the room without having a man to do it, but the gesture seemed kind of silly, so she didn’t bother.

  Once they were inside the confines of the penthouse, she intended to follow the rules. But if she couldn’t have Aidan, she might need some chocolate cake to compensate.

  “I’m going to my room,” she said, “but I’m in the mood for some dessert.”

  He paused and looked at her.

  “That’s not code for sex, Aidan. I’m talking about actual dessert.” She crossed to the phone sitting on a small table in the living room. “I’m going to order up some of that chocolate cake I had for breakfast this morning. Do you want anything?”

  Once again his expression revealed exactly what was going through his mind.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. Go to bed, Aidan. We’ll get through this.”

  “Yeah.” Grimacing, he turned and headed toward his bedroom. “Just put the tip on the bill.”

  “Thanks for everything!” she called out to him. That was lame, but she didn’t think she’d see him again, and she was grateful for all that his wealth and status had provided this weekend. The sex had been good, too, but she wouldn’t say she was grateful. Only needy girls were grateful for sex. She was appreciative, though. She hoped he’d take her global statement as encompassing…well, all of it.

  “You’re welcome,” he said without turning around. Then he walked into his bedroom, closed the door, and turned the lock. There was no mistaking that sound, a definite metallic click that meant he was locking her out.

  What the hell? Did he think she would be so overcome with lust that she’d barge into his room, even after he’d made it clear they wouldn’t have sex tonight?


  She abandoned her phone call. Striding down the short hallway, she rapped on the door. “Aidan, that’s plain insulting!”

  His reply was muffled by the door. “What is?”

  “Locking your door, that’s what! I promise you that I’m not going to encroach on the territory you’ve clearly defined. Now if you want to suggest that I lock my door, that’s a different matter. I can’t speak for your self-control. But I damned sure can speak for mine, and you don’t need a freaking lock to keep me on my side of this door.”

  By the end of the speech, she was breathing hard from indignation. Or mostly from indignation. She was also breathing hard because he was on the other side of that door, probably taking off his clothes, maybe putting on sweats and a T-shirt again, maybe not…

  “You’re right.” His voice was very close to the door. A soft metallic sound indicated that the door was no longer locked.

  She stood by the door, contemplating whether she should suggest that maybe, if they both understood that this would be the very last time, they could indulge in a little more recreational sex. Just for tonight. Because after that they’d never see each other again. Except for book signings, although she wondered if he’d skip those. He probably would, all things considered.

  “Go away, Emma.”

  “How did you know I’m still here?”

  “I know.”

  “Well, I’m leaving. But I just want to say that—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  She hated being interrupted in the middle of a thought. “What’s wrong with telling you I appreciate the time we’ve had together?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who told me that saying anything more would only make things worse.”

  She sighed. “So you’re really serious about this abstinence plan?”

  “Deadly serious.”

  “Then I’m leaving.” She walked a few feet away and paused to see if he’d open the door.

  “You’re still there,” he said.

  “You must rock out on hearing tests. Okay, I’m really leaving, now.”

  “Good.”

  She stomped into the living room, making as much noise as possible so that he’d know she was truly moving away from his door. Apparently cake was going to be her only option tonight.