Page 68 of The Wolf Professor

He shook his head, smiling at the truth of her words. “I will come back to you very soon,” he promised, touching his forehead to hers. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Charlie said simply, pressing her forehead against his.

He drew back, his golden eyes basking her in his love, his gratitude. Tilting up her chin with his finger and thumb, he kissed her lips tenderly. But he didn’t say those special words she longed to hear. After a moment, reluctantly, Charlie drew away and went over to Perdita, who wrapped strong arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. “Thank you for persuading him to come here,” Perdita said. “Ivor will arrange your transport back to Motham.”

Charlie nodded, thanking her.

Not daring to look at Max in case she cried, Charlie walked away, leaving her wolf to lay the past to rest with his pack.

CHAPTER 25

When she let herself into the house on Motham Hill late that night, it felt so very still.

The grand interior gaped, empty and dark without Max by her side. She thought about him as she lay in the bed they’d shared this past week, staring at the ceiling.

Was he out on the mountain now, with other members of his pack?

Fully wolf?

What if he decided he liked it up there in the snow, with his thick silver pelt and his new family? What if he met a she-wolf as beautiful as Perdita and they formed a mateship bond.

Don’t be a fool, he loves you.

But he hasn’t said those words.

Over the next few days, she went aimlessly from room to room, looking at the files of notes, the books with Max’s scribbled handwriting in the margins.

She tried to collate some more of his notes, but her usual efficiency seemed to have deserted her. She was lonely and lovesick, and not at all her old chirpy self. She spent much of the time watching TV in the snug, wishing Max was there with her.

But there was one thing she did know: even if her time with Max had been short, during that time, maybe because of it, Charlie Sullivan had grown up.

One morning, when he’d been gone nearly a week, she went to the bathroom mirror and surveyed her face. Her dark eyes stared seriously back at her. She tucked a curl behind her ear, then had to smile as the recalcitrant thing bounced back around her cheek.

In their short time together, she’d felt loved, passionately, and she had to believe in that. In him returning to her.

Enough of this moping, Charlie Sullivan.

Falling for Maxdidn’t mean she had to be sad until he returned. Instead, she could take hold of her destiny, theirdestiny and, like Eloise, dance and sing and laugh and… damn it, go fulfil her dreams.

She went to the wardrobe and took out her party dress, the one that had gotten torn and tattered in her ordeal with the ferals. The one that she’d worn riding on Max’s back as he carried her home.

It needed to be dry-cleaned and the rips patched up.

She’d lost her high-heeled pumps somewhere in the Wastelands, along with Max’s shredded designer slacks and jacket. She smirked. That would cause a few ferals some amusement when they found them.

Well, she would go out and buy some new shiny shoes, she decided. And get her dress fixed up.

With that thought, she went to her purse and took out the flyer about the Winter Solstice Rut. She smoothed it out on the kitchen table and made herself a cup of tea, then sat down and read it through in detail.

It wasn’t cheap. The elite package would cost her a whole week’s wages.

She was taking a huge risk here. She hadn’t even asked Max if he was willing to be her partner in the rut. She was going on a powerful hunch, but she had no proof it would pay off.

What if he wasn’t home by next weekend?

She would be standing alone at a rut in her best party dress and shoes. In the middle of freakin’ winter.

But somehow, she had no idea why, she trusted that he would be there.

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