Page 38 of Her Werewolf Lover

She felt silly being pleased by that, but why should she be? It was nice being petted and told you were doing something right.

Her pancakes arrived, and she doused them in syrup and butter, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. Michael’s chest seemed to rumble as he watched her chew and swallow, and the sounds of the diner faded away.

How did he make such animalistic noises?

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes. they’re great,” she replied, covering her mouth with her hand.

“We have to talk about last night, Samantha,” he said, and panic filled her.

No. Please, not the kiss off already.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he said, frowning, and she wondered if he could read her mind.

“Okay, I promise we can talk about it later. But for now, can we just keep it light?”

“Okay,” he hesitated. “But only for now.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief. Michael seemed to accept her reticence and alternated taking bites of his food and feeding her more when she’d stopped eating as they exchanged tidbits of info about each other.

It was a fun game, and she had a great time. Not just because of the sugary delicious carbs, but because of the smart, sexy man sitting across from her.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” she said, revealing more than she wanted.

“You’re a first for me, too. I can’t wait to learn more,” he whispered back.

“Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

It was a little chilly that morning, but that was not why she was trembling now. Samantha cast her eyes downward, unable to meet his gaze withoutrevealing something of her inner thoughts, and wouldn’t that be horrific?

But Michael made her feel things she hadn’t felt in ages. Yes, he was gorgeous, but he was also funny and smart.

But was this just a fling for him?

Samantha was not the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, despite what the tabloids had said.

She didn’t want to be a cliché. She enjoyed last night, wondered if it could be more, but she was so afraid he was using her. The potential headlines alone were enough to make her cringe.

Divorced ex-model thrown away for a younger woman leaves hubby to have hot, sweaty affair with handyman.

“Hey, let me take you home. I have to pick up Maya, but I’ll be back to see about the painters and the flooring,” Michael said, dropping some bills on the table and offering her his hand.

“Sounds good.”

“Good. Sam, I meant what I said. Last night was a beginning, not an end,” he said as he helped her into his truck.

“Okay,” she replied, daring to take a chance on believing him, “but I’m asking you right now toalways be honest with me. Don’t break my heart, Michael. I-I couldn’t stand it.”

“I won’t,” he said, but he looked worried.

That gold light she sometimes saw behind his eyes sparkled and in it she swore she saw something other. Something unknown.

A shiver ran through her, and Michael frowned, taking off his sweatshirt and handing it to her as he climbed in the driver’s side.

“Put that on, Sunshine.”

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