A Werewolf in Manhattan Read online

  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 lodge, surrounded by cozy log cabins, was his favorite retreat in the world, and he had the insane urge to take her there so she could rest. Ah, but they would do more than rest. And there was the rub.

  So instead he made pleasant conversation. “I hear you’re headed off to Chicago in a few days.”

  “Right!” Her enthusiasm didn’t ring true, but if she dreaded the tour, she couldn’t very well mention that in front of her publisher’s representative. She turned to the woman in black. “Jenny, this is Aidan Wallace. Aidan, Jenny Dunn handles PR for the company and was kind enough to come with me tonight.”

  “It’s the least I could do, considering how hard Emma works.” Jenny shook hands with Aidan. “It’s nice to meet you, Aidan. I’ve seen your father a few times in the office.”

  Aidan nodded. “He and Roger Claymore go way back.”

  Emma braced both hands on the table as she gazed at him with a bemused expression. “I didn’t realize your father and Roger were old friends. Your father should have snagged you an advance copy of the book.”

  “He did.” All in the name of research to supplement Emma’s growing file.

  “And you’re still buying one?” She pushed it gently back toward him. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He gave the book a nudge back in her direction. “The copy I read was one of those softcover deals.” And he’d marked it up looking for clues that she’d hooked up with the werewolf world. “I want an autographed hardback for my bookshelf.”

  Jenny nodded in approval. “Very cool.”

  “Yes, it is.” A soft light came into Emma’s eyes as she looked at him. Then she sat down and picked up her pen. “I’m honored to have a place on your bookshelf.”

  Aidan felt a stab of guilt and quickly reminded himself that he’d been a fan before he’d started spying on her. He really did want an autographed copy for the section of his bookshelf devoted to her, but coming to the reading tonight had been primarily to see whether any werewolves showed up.

  Jenny began gathering bookmarks and flyers from the table. “I hope you two won’t think I’m rude, but my daughter has a cold, and my husband’s home with her. If you’re okay with it, Emma, I’d like to get back and check on them.”

  Emma glanced up, her pen still poised over Aidan’s open book. “Of course! Go! And thanks so much for being here. That e-mail I got late this afternoon freaked me out a little, but I’m fine, now.”

  Aha. Aidan was proud of his casual response, considering the alarm bells clanging in his head. His crew had been monitoring her e-mails several times a day, but since nothing interesting had popped up, he’d told them to cut back to once in the morning. “Crazy fan?”

  “I guess so. Some guy claims he’s a werewolf. Wants to show me what a real werewolf is like.”

  Holy shit. Aidan did his best to stay calm. “Sounds like a nut.”

  “Or some lonely soul trying to get a date.” She smiled at him. “I guess he imagines I actually believe in werewolves.”

  That was news he could use. “I take it you don’t?”

  She went back to autographing his book. “The day I start believing in the fantasy I created is the day they’ll have to chase after me with a butterfly net.”

  Aidan mentally sighed in relief. He was good at reading people, and Emma seemed perfectly sincere. She couldn’t very well have a mole inside the werewolf community if she didn’t believe in werewolves. His job was over except for one thing—she might have attracted the attention of a rogue, after all.

  “That e-mail was sort of creepy, though.” Jenny tucked all the publicity materials into a satchel and hooked the straps over her shoulder. “We can still send somebody with you on tour. It’s not too late, and Roger’s completely okay with that.”

  Send me. Aidan saw a golden opportunity and vowed to take advantage of it.

  Emma shook her head. “That’s a waste of money. You’ve lined up media escorts at each stop. The hotels are secure. I’m not worried.”

  “Has anybody done a reverse trace on the e-mail?” Aidan wanted to get his hands on it in the worst way. He could notify his tech guys to pull it up, but going through Emma might be the simplest. A plan was forming in his mind.

  “We tried,” Jenny said. “Nothing came up.”

  Aidan didn’t want to appear too eager, even though he was chomping at the bit. “I handle security for Wallace Enterprises. I might be able to figure it out for you.”

  “You’re a security expert?” Emma gave him an assessing glance. “Somehow I thought you were on Wall Street.”

  “I have a cousin who is, but I went a different route.”

  “I’m thrilled he’s in security,” Jenny said. “If you’ll give me your e-mail address, Aidan, I’ll send over what Emma forwarded to me. The guy’s probably a harmless kook, but if we could pinpoint where he is, that would be valuable.”


  Aidan pulled out a business card from an inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to Jenny. “Considering my dad’s history with Roger Claymore, the service will be gratis.” He’d play this as if he needed Jenny’s cooperation to get that e-mail.

  “You should charge your regular fee.” Emma finished the autograph and closed the book. “If they were going to send somebody along on the tour, they can certainly afford your expert advice.”

  “It won’t take long enough to justify a bill.” Aidan was still planning to turn this into a bodyguard assignment. Although he didn’t consider Emma weak, she was ill prepared to confront a werewolf. No good could come of it, either for her or for the packs living in various North American cities.

  “I appreciate the offer.” Jenny accepted the card and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll send the e-mail first thing in the morning. Emma, take a cab home. I realize you’re a subway kind of girl, but no more of that until we figure this out.”

  “I have a car and driver,” Aidan said, knowing she wouldn’t approve of his luxury town car. “I’ll see that she gets home safely.”

  Emma glanced up at him. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

  “Em.” Jenny sent her a pointed look. “A security expert, who also happens to be a Wallace and who loves your books, has offered to run a trace on that e-mail for free, and now he’s prepared to get you home safely. As a representative of your publisher, I insist you accept that offer.”

  “Okay, but I think it’s kind of silly.”

  “Humor me.”

  “All right.”

  Jenny nodded. “Thanks, Em. Talk to you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Aidan.” With a wave, she walked away.

  “There you go.” Emma pushed the book back across the table. “And you certainly don’t have to chauffeur me home tonight. You must have a million things to do that are more important.”

  “Can’t think of any.” He put on his topcoat before picking up the book. “Are you ready to go?” He was still sorting through the possibilities of the e-mail. The sender could be a nutcase or a werewolf willing to betray his pack to impress a woman, which made him a werewolf nutcase. Either way, his behavior could be unpredictable.

  She sighed, and her shoulders dropped. “Truthfully, I’d love a ride home in a luxury car instead of a taxi. I doubt your car will be emitting any more greenhouse gases than the taxi, and it’s been a long day.”

  Following a long night. He’d kept track of her through most of it, and she’d spent the wee hours finishing her manuscript instead of sleeping. “Let me call Ralph.” He pulled his BlackBerry from inside his jacket and speed-dialed his driver. “Yes, I’m ready. Down by the front door. I have a passenger to drop off in the Village.”

  Then he cringed. He wasn’t supposed to know where she lived. He hoped she was too tired to notice the slip. Now he had to hope Ralph would remember to ask her for the address as if he didn’t know it. If Aidan had been in wolf form, he could have sent Ralph a telepathic message, but in human form he had to rely on his cell.

  “I do appreciate this.” Standing, Emma grabbed her coat and purse from a neighboring chair before walking around the table to join him. “I love meeting readers, but my cheeks hurt from smiling.”

  “I’ll bet. Let me help you with your coat.”

  “Oh.” She looked a little disoriented but handed it over and set her purse on the table so he could slide the coat over her arms and onto her shoulders.

  Although manners had been heavily ingrained in Aidan since a young age, he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. Manners hadn’t been his main reason for helping her with the coat. He’d wanted the chance to move closer, to let his fingers brush the red silk of her dress, to feel the warmth of her body swirl as the coat went on.

  None of that fit into his plan to be careful. When she lifted her blond hair off the nape of her neck to settle it over the coat collar, he stared at that vulnerable spot and swallowed. He wanted her too much. He should turn this job over to one of his capable staff members. But he knew he wouldn’t.

  “Thank you.” She glanced back at him. “You have an old-world charm about you, Aidan. It’s nice.”

  Nice. If she only knew the thoughts he was having, the growl of primitive need he was choking back. “I’m sure you’re tired. We should get going.”

  “I am tired.” She picked up her purse and started toward the front of the store. “But I can hardly complain. My books are doing well, and this kind of success doesn’t come along every day.”

  He followed as they wound their way through the book aisles. “I’ve often wondered if readings are stressful for writers.” And Dougie-boy hadn’t shown up to give her moral support or take her out afterward for a little celebration. The more he learned about the guy, the less he liked him.

  “The extroverts don’t mind them, I suppose, but for introverts like me, it can be a challenge sometimes. So how did you know I lived in the Village?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Apparently she wasn’t that tired if she’d picked up on his slip. He’d have to lie. “Must have read it in an interview somewhere.”

  “That’s possible. I’ve asked reporters not to mention stuff like that, but sometimes it gets in, anyway. Fortunately, I don’t have a huge problem with people pestering me.”

  “I promise not to pester you.” Another lie. He planned to stick to her like fur to polyester. He doubted the e-mail she’d received had come from anyone in the Wallace pack. The Wallaces had some interesting family dynamics, and not everyone got along, but nobody would take the chance of sabotaging the whole operation.

  He suspected the rogue, if that’s who had sent the e-mail, belonged to another pack, and if so, Aidan planned to get himself assigned as Emma’s bodyguard for the entire book tour. His father could talk Roger Claymore into it by giving the publisher a smoking rate for Aidan’s services.

  There was a good chance that when Emma left for Chicago, Aidan would be on the plane with her, unless someone in the family figured out that he craved this woman. Then he’d have to take himself off the case.

  He rebelled at that idea, even as he acknowledged the wisdom of it. He didn’t trust the job to anyone else, and he was determined to protect Emma from any potential threat. Including himself.

  Chapter 2

  Somewhere between leaving the autograph table and stepping into the frigid cold of a New York February night, Emma must have clicked over from tired to over-tired because she was suddenly wide-awake. Or maybe it was the extremely masculine presence beside her that had recharged her batteries.

  She’d always realized Aidan was hot. No woman could help noticing those shoulders, which filled out his custom-made suit without the benefit of padding. Because she’d seen him only in a suit, she had to guess whether he had a nice butt, but she’d be willing to bet he did.

  He had the kind of jaw that usually showed up in shaving commercials, a strong nose, and a high forehead. She suspected he was easily as intelligent as he looked. Thick hair the color of chocolate and eyes the shade of warm caramel added up to one yummy guy.

  But he’d given no indication he was interested in her personally. She was probably the only one who’d been affected by their brief contact when he’d helped her on with her coat. She doubted he found anything cozy and intimate about sharing the backseat of his town car with her, either.

  She’d expected him to wear some pricey cologne, but it must have been subtle, because she didn’t recognize any particular brand. She had the inappropriate urge to bury her nose in the side of his neck.

  She wouldn’t, of course, because she was with Doug, even though he was currently on her shit list. Surely he could have chucked his Rotary Club meeting so he could be here tonight. It was her first signing since they’d moved their relationship from professional to personal, and his excuse—that he already had an autographed book—didn’t sit well with her. He could have bought one for his mother.

  True, Emma hadn’t be
en much of a girlfriend the past couple of weeks, with her deadline looming. She wasn’t sure how great a girlfriend she was, period, considering how much quality time she spent writing and how little quality time she spent with Doug. Maybe a writer wasn’t meant to have a boyfriend. Maybe he was justified in missing the signing.

  But she hadn’t had a chance to tell him about the creepy e-mail from the guy who thought he was a werewolf. Then again, Doug might not take it seriously. She kind of liked that Aidan Wallace—who had to be worth a gazillion dollars—did.

  She definitely liked the mode of transportation Aidan provided. On principle she was opposed to a megaexpensive car dedicated to ferrying one person all over Christendom, but sinking down onto the butter-soft leather, she’d almost moaned in delight. Tomorrow Aidan would trace the e-mail and she’d be back on the subway, as always. Tonight Jenny had practically forced her to ride like royalty, so she’d ditch the guilt.

  The older man in the front seat wore a sweatshirt and jeans instead of a chauffer’s uniform, but chauffeuring was clearly his function. He pulled the car smoothly into traffic. “What address in the Village, Aidan?”

  The guy spoke like a friend instead of an employee, and Emma’s little democratic heart warmed. Money shouldn’t give anyone the right to act superior, in her opinion. She leaned forward to give him the address. “It’s—”

  “Wait.” Aidan laid a hand on her arm. “I just realized something.”

  So had she. She didn’t want to go home yet. His lingering touch, even through her wool coat and silk dress, was wildly exciting. Awareness sizzled in all her pleasure centers, and now she was really awake. She hadn’t had this kind of instant reaction to a man in ages. In fact, she’d told herself that she’d outgrown such craziness, even though she wrote about it all the time.

  He glanced at her, his eyes in shadow. “You might not want me to know where you live.”

  She almost laughed. If it weren’t for Doug, she’d show him exactly where she lived and invite him in for coffee. Maybe all he admired was her writing talent, but given time, that might change.