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СКАЧАТЬ too, since I haven’t run across any.”

      She looked indulgent. She looked exasperated. She looked completely in control.

      And then her eyes met Drew’s. And as soon as she saw him, even at this distance, that sensuous energy that had pulsed between them before was back. Her face flushed, and she looked away.

      Heat surged through him that had nothing to do with the warmth of the spring afternoon. Damn, but Dr. Melanie Harding was one incredible—and hot—female.

      “You haven’t met any werewolves yet,” contradicted the reporter, mugging for the camera. Apparently being insulted before her audience hadn’t fazed her.

      “Yet,” Melanie agreed, her attention back on the microphone. “But as a veterinarian, I’m a scientist. I’m open to learning new things. If Mary Glen really has any werewolves, bring ‘em on.”

      Drew snorted silently. The sexy vet might have had the drooling media leeches in the palm of her hand right now, but she didn’t know what she was saying, not really.

      Bring on the werewolves?

      If she weren’t careful, Dr. Melanie Harding just might get a whole lot more than she had bargained for.

      Chapter Four

      Despite the cacophony of noise from the media scum and their eager audience, Drew heard the quiet sound of familiar footsteps behind him. He turned.

      “What are you doing here, Truro?” he asked even before his gaze landed on his longtime friend and colleague, Captain Jonas Truro.

      “Same as you, Major.” Jonas lifted his right arm and gave a mock salute. “Even though you said he’d be okay, I was still worried about the spoiled old mutt.”

      “Grunge isn’t old,” Drew countered.

      “Just a spoiled mutt.”

      “That’s a highly trained, well-cared-for army issue K-9 to you.”

      “Yes, sir.” Jonas grinned. He was about thirty years old, nearly as tall as Drew but with a heavier build, mostly muscle. His skin was the shade of the chocolate kisses he popped in his mouth almost as often as he drank water. Drew sometimes goaded him about how he was turning into one of the sweets. In turn, Jonas always kidded him about his jealousy. Drew and chocolate didn’t go well together.

      Like Drew, Jonas was ostensibly on duty, but they weren’t on base so neither was in uniform. Jonas wore jeans, too, but Drew’s wine-colored T-shirt was plain compared with Jonas’s, which proclaimed the University of Maryland around a black, gold, red and white depiction of the Maryland state flag.

      “That the vet?” Jonas jerked his nearly clean-shaven head toward Melanie.

      “Yeah,” Drew said. She was chatting vivaciously with her receptionist, Carla, while using her body as a blockade against the media horde and the tourists who might rush the clinic to check out the supposed werewolf. She combined tact and determination, both admirable qualities.

      “She seems to think the werewolf legends are really crap, doesn’t she?” Jonas asked. “I’ve been here long enough to hear her give it to those reporters.”

      “Sounds that way to me, too.”

      “Some interesting lady, isn’t she?”

      “Yeah, interesting.” Drew had intended to make the word sound a lot more scornful than it came out. Ignoring Jonas’s smirk, he continued, “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

      He led the way through the dissipating crowd to the clinic’s front door. As the now-ignored reporters finally turned away, the vet met Drew’s eye. There was a challenge in her expression, as if she expected him to try to barge past her, too.

      Instead, he stopped several feet away.

      “Hi, Major,” said Carla, giving him a big wink.

      Drew was used to her flirtatiousness and didn’t take it seriously. He nodded at her, then turned to Melanie. “Dr. Harding, this is Captain Jonas Truro. We’re here for Grunge.”

      Jonas stepped around him. “Major Connell told me about all you did for Grunge last night, Dr. Harding. I work with him, too, and really appreciate it. And I watched you handle those media types. Great job.”

      “All in a day’s work in werewolf country,” the vet said with a rueful smile. She shook hands with Jonas—and Drew found himself envying the small contact.

      Which irritated him.

      “I’d never have expected so many reporters here in Mary Glen.” Melanie’s tone sounded both baffled and disgusted.

      “Yeah, the tourists like to get word out there if any hint of shapeshifter stuff happens around here,” Jonas said. “They’ve lots of contacts at the D.C. and Baltimore newspapers and TV and radio stations.”

      “So I figured.” Melanie shook her head.

      “How’s Grunge doing now?” Drew interrupted, more abruptly than he’d intended. “You’re sure it’s okay to take him home?”

      He ignored the annoyance and curiosity in the vet’s bright blue eyes. She seemed to be scoping him out, trying to read why he’d snapped at her. Damned if he knew. But that conversation with Jonas had gone on long enough.

      “He’s doing well,” she finally said. “And, yes, he can leave.” She led them into the building, closing the door behind Carla, who followed them. She locked it.

      The place smelled like a hospital—clean and medicinal—even with the overlay of multiple animal scents.

      “It’s after six o’clock, at least,” Melanie said. “No more appointments today, right, Carla?”

      The receptionist nodded. “Right. I checked the voice-mail at my phone extension just in case, but no one’s called, so our next appointment’s tomorrow morning at nine.”

      “Good. This way, gentlemen. Oh, that’s right, Major Connell. You know the way.” Melanie shot him a look full of irony, then turned and preceded them down the hall. Her hips swayed gently, causing her white lab coat to swing in an enticing manner. They passed a guy wearing a turquoise medical top. “All the dogs okay, Brendan?” Melanie asked.

      “Sure are, Doc. I’m outta here now, okay?”

      “As long as you’ve fed everyone and made sure their crates are clean.”

      “Always.” The young man grinned and hurried past them.

      Melanie’s dark hair, clipped at the nape of her neck, flicked around as she stopped and looked back at Drew and Jonas. “You’ll need to keep Grunge on antibiotics for the next ten days. I’ll give you pills for him to be taken with food. A painkiller, too, if he needs it, poor dog. I’m sure silver bullets are just as painful as lead or whatever they’re made from these days.”

      “Join me for dinner and you can tell me more about how you saved him,” Drew said. “And СКАЧАТЬ