Page 17 of My Boyfriend Bites

Dante returned to his, wondering if he’d just stumbled across part of her reticence. Did she lack control of her wolf? Was passion a trigger?

And if yes, how could he help her get past it?

Chapter 5

Selene foundit hard to resume sleeping after waking up outside as a wolf. Something in her dream must have triggered her lycan side, but worse, she remembered nothing. Not what she’d dreamed of or what she’d done as a wolf. She couldn’t even be sure she’d not been seen.

In the morning, tired from her restless tossing and turning, she went to breakfast in the restaurant reserved for the upper-level suites and overheard some of the diners complaining about the person who’d thought it funny to play a howling wolf track in the middle of the night.

In better news, no one mentioned seeing a wolf or dog, which answered the question she’d feared most. Still, she’d have to be more careful. Although, how could she control what happened when she slept? Locking the doors, for a start.

True to his word about being a night owl, Dante didn’t appear in the upgraded sit-down restaurant, which beat the buffet by miles. She enjoyed choosing from a menu—the meat lover's breakfast—and having her meal brought fresh. No one touching or coughing or doing anything gross to it before it ended up in her mouth.

To her surprise, she did find one thing disheartening, even as she hated to admit it. Dante didn’t seem keen on pushing her boundaries. Despite her being right across the hall from him, he’d not knocked on her door or “accidentally” run into her. Perhaps he’d given up. She couldn’t have explained why it disappointed.

A stir by the patrons drew her attention to a woman who entered wearing a uniform of white. Someone yelled, “Captain, can we have a picture?” and she kindly obliged before she moved on to greet some of the passengers, spending a few minutes at each table where she stopped. Despite conversing with a very loquacious older lady, the captain turned her gaze on Selene.

The intense stare discomfited, especially since Selene could think of no reason she’d draw the captain’s interest. She quickly finished her breakfast and as she exited the dining room she noticed Dante’s assistant eating in a corner by himself. The man had ditched the suit for a pale green shirt and tan khakis more suitable for the climate.

Selene had dressed smartly in linen capris and a light-colored airy blouse paired with comfortable walking shoes and a sun hat. She had her shoulder tote loaded with water bottles, snacks, and a bathing suit in case she got brave enough to dip into the cenote she’d seen advertised as part of the tour.

The ship had docked overnight, the Mexican port of Costa Maya a popular one with passengers with plenty of activities. So much to choose from and yet she’d debated the night before whether she would disembark.

Curiosity won over anxiety. She’d always loved ancient history, and the chance to see a temple? How could she miss that opportunity?

Upon disembarking the ship, Selene felt a moment of panic as people milled around while locals hawked their wares. The quiet farm life hadn’t prepared her for this level of chaos. Theurge to flee proved strong, but she forged through her anxiety, scanning the many signs being held up to direct folks to their chosen excursion. As she neared her group, she noticed Renard appeared to be part of the milling crowd boarding the bus. For some reason, she chose to sit beside him, despite the empty seats around, startling the man.

“Hello,” she chirped.

“Morning,” his more cautious reply.

“Guess you couldn’t convince the boss to go to bed early so he could come, eh?”

Renard shook his head. “Perhaps if it had been cloudy, he might have been persuaded. Dante doesn’t do well in the sun.”

“Is he allergic?” Rare but not unheard of.

“Very. His skin blisters something fierce when exposed.”

“He never mentioned that,” she murmured. “He made it sound as if his nightlife were by choice.”

Renard shrugged. “He hates admitting to weakness.”

“Hardly weak, since he can’t control how his body reacts. Must suck to be so restricted.”

“That is a more understanding stance than many have. Some think he must surely exaggerate and try to force the issue. Years ago, an overnight guest thoughtlessly pulled open the curtains and caused him great discomfort.”

“That seems cruel.”

“It was, and yet, to some, his affliction is a source of entertainment.”

“Only because it’s someone else’s misery. Since he can’t join the tour, guess you’ll have to take pictures for him.”

“That was the plan. Are you looking forward to the ruins?” Renard asked.

“Very much so. This is my first time travelling to Mexico, and being able to see something this old is kind of thrilling. Theartistry and engineering that went into building these massive structures boggles the mind.”

“It is impressive. I had a chance years ago to see the temples in India. Such beautiful craftmanship.” Renard began talking, and she listened, the man intelligent and informed. Given he didn’t set off her wolfy sense one bit, she stuck with him as they went on their tour. Perhaps it would dissuade the burly guy in charge from staring so often. The way their guide kept trying to get close to her discomfited. She had to bite back a growl every time he came near. This wasn’t a good time for her to lose control and shift.

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