“I survived,” Olivia said, and realized the opportunity of having Laird Tiernan all to herself. This was a good time to learn if there were any job openings at the preserve.

“You’re rubbing your hands. They must be cold,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have packed my gloves in my suitcase,” she said and was shocked when he reached out and took hold of her hands and began to rub them between his warm ones.

A gasp slipped from her lips, his touch feeling as if it jolted every one of her senses, just as it did when she earned the trust of a wolf on the preserves she worked at, and he brushed himself against her hand, giving her permission to touch him.

“My apologies, sudden heat on cold can shock the senses and your hands are exceptionally cold,” he said, giving them a good rub.

She almost sighed with regret when he released her hands, hurrying his hands into his pockets and extracting a pair of knit gloves, then he began to slip the oversized gloves on her hands.

“I’m afraid they have a few wolf hairs stuck to them, but I doubt that you mind. You have quite an impressive background with wolves, Ms. Stanton.”

“Olivia or Liv,” she offered, her heart unexpectedly thumping a bit faster. “And so, I don’t embarrass myself, is it Laird Tiernan or simply Laird?”

“Tiernan will do, and Olivia fits you better than Liv,” he said and gave her now gloved-covered hands a squeeze. “Now let’s get you in front of the warmth of a good fire.”

He pulled out of the train station parking lot, but she was too caught up in the way her name had slipped like an intimate caress from his lips to notice. How was that even possible? It wasn’t. It was nothing more than her foolish imagination. Andwhat was that rugged scent he was wearing? She had never smelled anything so alluring on a man. It made her want to get closer to him and give him a good sniff. Whatever was wrong with her? She had never, not ever, found a man appealing so quickly. It was like getting struck by a lightning bolt, a sensual lightning bolt. She almost groaned aloud at the ridiculous thought. Had she lost her mind? Such crazy thoughts would not help get her a position here.

“Your work history tells me that you favor wolves, Olivia.”

Wolves. Yes, she needed to concentrate on wolves.

“I have been obsessed with them since I was young. I find them fascinating, and I am so looking forward to browsing your preserve and learning all I can about it, but most of all meeting your wolves.”

“I doubt very much that any of the wolves will share their sexual appetites with you,” he said, his smile playful.

Olivia smiled, while trying to ignore another rush of pleasure that hit her stronger this time. Maybe it was him referring to sexual appetites that caused this one, and a sudden thought of what he might be like in bed had her turning her head for a moment, feeling her cheeks heat.

“Pull it together, Olivia,” she silently berated herself and reminded herself that she had a job to do for Vera and she did not intend to let her down, especially since it had provided her with this opportunity.

She turned with a smile to face him, hoping her cheeks weren’t scorching. “It isn’t the wolves’ sexual appetites that I am here to find out about. It’s the werewolves’ sexual appetites that I am interested in.”

Was that a seductive grin he turned on her, or was her dormant libido rising to protest and yelling,Grab him while you can?

“I will have to make sure you speak with one of the werewolves.”

Olivia chuckled at his teasing remark, but Tiernan didn’t. He actually looked quite serious, and she found herself saying, “So, tell me about your werewolves.”

“I don’t get the feeling you believe in werewolves… Olivia.”

How did he make her name drip with seduction? Or again was it her imagination?

A warning rang in her head. Stay professional, Olivia.You want a position here. Though with the overwhelming attraction she felt for Laird Tiernan, she wondered if that was a good idea.

“I believe the tale of werewolves was born out of fear,” she said. “Killings that were so brutal that people felt only animals could be responsible for such vicious deaths.”

“You prescribe to the serial killer theory.”

“It was inevitable with the many tours I have taken people on at the preserves where I have worked that someone would jokingly ask about werewolves. I decided to educate myself and them about lycanthropes. The serial killer theory seemed the most plausible to explain the werewolf myth.”

“And what was it you found out?”

Olivia slipped into tour guide mode. “The werewolf myth is one of the oldest legends to be recorded in the history of human monsters. They were hunted just as witches were since many witches were also believed to be shape-shifting werewolves. Werewolf trials were held just like witch trials, and werewolves suffered the same fate as witches. Historical records show that a serial killer team in France in 1521, Pierre Burgot and Michel Verdun, were executed as werewolves. Then in 1573, again in France, a Gilles Garnier, known as the Werewolf of Dole, and a confessed serial killer, was executed as a werewolf. But the oldest story of werewolves isn’t the recording of a dreadful group of serial killings but rather an Ancient Roman myth. Ovid, aRoman poet, wrote the Metamorphoses in 1 A.D. It was the story of King Lycaon, the name which many believe is the origin for the word Lycanthrope. King Lycaon offended, purposely or foolishly, most likely both, the gods by serving them none other than human meat at dinner. Jupiter, outraged, punished him by transforming Lycaon into a werewolf. Naturally, since then the werewolf myth has evolved. Full moons had nothing to do with Ovid’s tales but do with others and some tales say that werewolves change shape whenever they please. Then there is the multitude of beliefs in how a werewolf can be killed, not to mention the belief that werewolves live extremely long lives.

“So why has the werewolf myth remained so popular with endless books being written about them and endless movies made as well? There could be several reasons for the werewolf myth. But fear and superstition top the list. Most likely, genuine wolf attacks were not the cause for gruesome deaths, but fear and superstition had people believe the impossible. Torture produced the desired confession, which led to so-called proof, cementing the belief in werewolves.”

“I am impressed, Olvia, with your knowledge of werewolves. It is no wonder Ms. Langford chose you to write the section on the sexual appetites of werewolves.”