Not tall, but she gave the impression of being leggy, lean along with it. She wore her strawberry blond hair in a wavy nimbus to her shoulders. Her jeans were old, torn at the knees, but her boots looked expensive.

And he absolutely couldnat explain his vicious urge to grab her with both hands, mark her with his teeth, and ride her until she begged for mercy. Maybe it was because he couldnat picture her crying uncle; spirit in a woman made his heart kick like a half-broke horse, and shead shown such a roguish blend of guile and confidence inside the bar.

The first three games, she hadnat been able to play worth s.h.i.t. Head watched his share of hustlers over the years, and he always knew when a player stalled. They had a tell in the way they handled the cues, something. But this woman, head have sworn she barely knew how to hold the stick. Until that last game. Until she turned into a tournament player before his eyes, like magic.

Reyes didnat believe in magic.

Shead done something when he touched her. He felt different. Energy coursed through him with no outlet, as if a customary corollary had suddenly been blocked. He felt slower, too, as if his muscles had forgotten how to move.

Just as well he hadnat intended to do anything here at Suds. He never acted without all the facts, and he needed to know more about this woman. It worked on him like a compulsion. He wanted to know her better than his own name.

Like most impulses, head resist it, taking satisfaction instead in leashing his appet.i.tes. Reyes almost enjoyed letting the longing build to fever pitch, only to turn his back on it. He never let hunger overwhelm him anymore. But for the first time in years, temptation tugged. She smelled like coconut oil and sunny days. He wondered what shead do if he leaned down to breathe the scent of her. Would she fight? Scream?

aWeall take a ride,a he said easily. aYou probably should get away from here. Once those rednecks figure things out, theyall come running.a aYouare not getting in my car.a Smart woman. But that wouldnat do her any good, not when he already knew her weakness. Attachments, whether to people, places, or things, only led to trouble.

He applied a little pressure on the tire. aBoth of us go. Or neither. Theyare going to think I was your silent partner since I made them pay up, and Iam not taking a beating for you. But if you want to get away, Iad hurry. Sounds like theyare getting riled inside.a No lie. Reyes heard shouting. Soon the men shead swindled would come pouring out, looking to take the money back and maybe a pound of flesh. Chet had probably worked himself up to thinking she owed him s.e.x to make up for the heaping helping of emasculation shead served with a smile. This couldnat have fallen out better if head planned it.

She swore. What a mouth she had, but everything sounded better when spoken in a husky undertone. aCome on. Iam only taking you as far as Lake Charles, and if you spill a drop of anything on Myrnaas upholstery, Iall kill you with my bare hands.a aMyrna?a The woman shot him a look that said it wasnat the time to talk about the name of her car. By the time she got the keys in the ignition, head settled into the pa.s.senger seat. She handled the big car with careless expertise, backing out in a spit of gravel.

Just in time, too.

The bar door flew open, and six men swarmed out. One chucked a beer bottle at them, and it smashed against the fender. To his amus.e.m.e.nt, the h.e.l.lcat spat another curse and reversed hard into the lot, like shead happily run all the rednecks down. They apparently thought so, too, because they scattered, fell on their a.s.ses. She shifted gears and then stuck her hand out the window, flashing the finger as they fishtailed out onto Rural Route 9.

aMyrna Loy,a she said, as if theyad never been interrupted. aIam nuts about her.a It took him a minute to place the name, and then connect it to her car. He tended to connect the dots, not make tangential leaps. Logic, not Rorschach blots.

aYou like her movies then?a This wasnat going at all as head planned. She still hadnat even answered his original question. He prided himself on being adaptable, however; it made him the best at what he did. So head circle back to it soon enough.

Before answering, she adjusted the radio and tuned it to KBON, filling the car with zydeco music and rushing wind. aLove them. Have you ever seen The Thin Man?a aIam afraid not. Good?a Her smile flashed, a dimple in her right cheek. aFantastic. She and William Powell were the couple back then. So suave and charming. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Nora Charles.a Nick and Nora Charlesa"the two names popped into his head as a matched set. Where had he heard them before? It would come; he had a nearly eidetic memory.

aDashiell Hammett.a He finally remembered. aI read the book a long time ago. I prefer Mickey Spillane.a She glared at him out of the corner of her eye, green eyes practically throwing sparks. aHeresy. I should throw you out of the car.a Reyes tried to picture that. n.o.body ever made him do anything he didnat want to. Odd, she didnat seem in the least intimidated. Nothing in her manner indicated she was worried about acquiring a pa.s.senger his size, armed with a knife. She ought to be tense, sweating, and when things didnat add up, it troubled him. It was like she knew something he didnat. And he hated that feeling.

He slid the blade back into his boot. Threatening her ran counterproductive to his aims at this point, so he improvised. aSo, what did you do back at the bar? Or maybe I should ask how did you do it?a That would give her a reason to be wary of him, thinking head noticed something askew. Which he had, of course, but it wasnat the big picture. Honesty often provided the best smoke screen for his other endeavors.

She lifted a shoulder. aMaybe you should.a aSo how did you do it?a aDo what?a He had the feeling she could continue this line of circular conversation all night. Well, it didnat matter. In time, head wear her down. She didnat realize it, but shead gained his company for a while.

That was something of a specialty of hisa"breaking down barriers, building trust. Reyes bet shead yield what he needed to know before too much longer. A softness about her mouth said she liked what she saw when she looked at him. He was used to that, but this woman made him want to use s.e.x, a tactic he seldom employed these days. Too many complications, too many variables.

aWhatas your name, anyway?a He played the rootless. .h.i.tchhiker with a familiarity born of experience. That impression would be reinforced by his appearance and his lack of personal belongings. aAnd thanks for the lift.a aYou didnat exactly give me a choice.a Her husky voice sent a pleasurable spike along his nervous system straight down to his groin. Reyes shifted, unwilling to let the erection gain full-flag status.

aNo, I didnat. You love your whitewalls too much to gamble with them.a aI love this car,a she corrected, stroking a hand along the blue dashboard.

Reyes watched her fingers with a clawing hunger that astounded him. He wanted them on his chest, his abdomen . . . lower. He wanted two weeks with her in a hotel room, nothing but bare skin and cool, white sheets. Despite iron discipline, his p.e.n.i.s swelled all the way up, straining his zipper.

aI can see that.a His voice rumbled low, even for him.

aIsnat she a beaut?a aSure is.a So are you. But he didnat say that out loud. It was too soon. Like a wild thing, she would be skittish, slow to gentle. She still hadnat told him her name. Such a way she had about hera"appearing to give away everything, when in fact, it granted nothinga"couldave come only through years of practice.

All in all, Kyra Marie Beckwith was a lot more intriguing than her dossier let on. Too bad he had to kill her.

Donat miss these other werewolf romantic suspense novels from Rebecca York.

KILLING MOON.

A PI with a preternatural talent for tracking finds his prey: a beautiful genetic researcher who may be his only hope for a future . . .

EDGE OF THE MOON.

A police detective and a woman who files a missing persons report become the p.a.w.ns of an unholy serial killer in a game of deadly attraction . . .

WITCHING MOON.

A werewolf and a s.e.xy botanist investigate a swamp steeped in superst.i.tion, legend, and death . . .

CRIMSON MOON.

A young werewolf bent on protecting the environment ends up protecting a lumber baronas daughtera"a woman who arouses his hunger like no other . . .

SHADOW OF THE MOON.

A journalist investigates a sinister world of power and pleasurea"alongside a woman who knows how to bring out the animal in him . . .

NEW MOON.

Unable to resist his desire for a female werewolf, a landscape architect will have to travel through two dimensions to save hera"and Eartha"from the wrath of her enemy . . .

GHOST MOON.

A freed slave from a parallel universe finds herself seduced by the spirit of a werewolf who was supposedly murdered by the ancestors of her dearest friends . . .

ETERNAL MOON.

A PI is rescued by a lone werewolf who is her destiny, but something is stalking thema"waiting for the right moment to strike . . .

Books by Rebecca York.

KILLING MOON.

EDGE OF THE MOON.

WITCHING MOON.

CRIMSON MOON.

SHADOW OF THE MOON.

NEW MOON.

GHOST MOON.

ETERNAL MOON.

DRAGON MOON.

BEYOND CONTROL.

BEYOND FEARLESS.

Anthologies.

CRAVINGS.

(with Laurell K. Hamilton, MaryJanice Davidson, Eileen Wilks).

ELEMENTAL MAGIC.

(with Sharon Shinn, Carol Berg, and Jean Johnson).