"Who's Simon?"
I spun toward the bed. "Where did you hear that?"
Adam tested his head on one palm, his face shuttered. "From you."
"I never told you about him."
"Not told, no. You said de name in your sleep. And since you're sleeping with me, I want to know who he is."
Had I dreamed Simon or not? I wasn't certain. If I had, was that good or bad? If I hadn't, what the hell?
I glanced at the window, but the handprint was gone. Had it ever been there in the first place?
"Who is he?
Adam sounded as if he was speaking through clenched teeth. When my gaze returned to his, I saw that he was.
"Simon's my husband."
A flicker of violence passed over his face. "You didn't think you should mention a husband? I might do a lot of things, but I try not to fuck another man's wife if I can help it"
"No. I'm not - I mean we're not - He isn't - "
Adam got out of the bed and crossed the floor so fast I barely had time to take a step back. When I did, I hit the wall. He grabbed me by the forearms and dragged me onto my toes. His grip hurt, but I was too bewildered to protest.
"He isn't what?'
"Alive."
Or at least I didn't think so.
Adam released me as if I were a hot potato; I would have fallen if I hadn't had the wall to hold me up.
"Sorry." He shoved a hand through his hair.
I wasn't sure if he was apologizing for Simon's death or for manhandling me, but I understood his anger. In fact, his fury at the idea I was married made me view him in a different light.
Adam Ruelle hadn't seemed the type to respect marriage vows, to take to heart the myth of one man, one woman, forever. If I'd been wrong about that, I'd been wrong about him. Which only confused me more.
"Never mind," I said. "Forget it."
"You haven't forgotten."
"No."
"You still love him. I could tell by de way you said his name."
I wanted to ask how he knew so much about love, but I didn't The conversation only emphasized that we were practically strangers, and I wanted to keep it that way.
"I'll always love Simon. Death can't change what I feel."
He stared at me so hard, I got the feeling he wanted to open my head and peek inside, find out what made me tick. "How did he die?"
I didn't want to talk about this, especially naked, so I yanked the sheet off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Adam caught the tail end and held on.
"You dream of him," he whispered.
I wasn't so sure it had been a dream, but I couldn't tell Adam I'd seen my dead husband outside his window.
"I saw a wolf," I blurted instead.
"Dreams aren't real."
I wasn't so sure anymore.
"There." I pointed. "At the window. Big, black, with weird blue eyes."
If Adam hadn't been nude, I wouldn't have noticed him tense. His gaze nickered to the window and back. Nevertheless, I was distracted by the ripple of muscle beneath skin, the wave along his abdomen like a softly flowing river.
"There was no wolf, cher."
"What about the howls in the swamp? The deaths? The tracks?"
"What about them?"
"Why do you keep denying even the possibility that there's a wolf or ten out here?"
"Because there isn't."
I gave a frustrated little shriek and resisted the urge to kick him.
"You want me to prove it? Tonight I take you. I know this swamp like I know my own name. If there's anything here that doesn't belong I'd have seen it"
Unless he was hiding something, and I kind of thought that he was. Maybe I shouldn't go tripping off merrily into the swamp with him in the dark. I might never be heard from again.
Be safe, Simon had said. What had he meant?
From the loup-garou? From my feelings? Or from Adam?
But what choice did I have? If I was going to fulfill my vow, I needed help. And the only help available was the only man who'd made me feel alive since my whole world died.
Life certainly was a vicious bitch.
I blinked as another thought occurred to me, one that made me dizzy with dismay. Cursing, I collapsed on the bed. "I'm no damn good at this."
Sex required responsibility. Protection. My celibate lifestyle had kept me free of disease. I was also free from birth control, being both a widow and an idiot.
The bed dipped as Adam sat beside me. His hip brushed mine, but he touched me nowhere else, and for that I was grateful. When he touched me I couldn't think.
Obviously.
"You're pretty good at this, if you're askin' me."
"What?" My mind wasn't keeping up very well with the conversation.
"You said you were no damn good, but you are."
I smiled before I could stop myself. "Thanks. But I meant at technicalities." His blank stare made me continue. "Protection. We didn't use any."
I saw the understanding spread across his face. I waited for the horror, the panic, the escape, but it didn't come.
"You don't have to worry."
"I think I do."
"You wanna ask me have I been with a lot of women?"
I shrugged. My lame-ass equivalent of "Hell, yes!"
"Once I fucked tike rabbit, my father said."