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soaked her shirt. “Please don’t leave me alone.”
    The next burst of lightning shot the forest into bright relief. And gleamed off the coat of the wolf that stood in the driving rain at the foot of the steps.
    “God.” She fumbled on the wall for the light switch, flicked it and had the floodlights pouring on. He was still there, his coat gleaming with rain, his eyes patiently watching. She moistened her lips, took a slow step back. “You should come in out of the rain.”
    A thrill sprinted up her spine as he leaped gracefully onto the porch. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until his damp fur brushed her leg as he walked inside, and she released it with a shiver.
    “Well.” Trembling a little, she turned so they watched each other. “There’s a wolf in the house. An incredibly handsome wolf,” she murmured, and found herself not thinking twice about shutting the door and closing them inside together. “Um, I’m going to go in …” She gestured vaguely. “There. It’s warm. You can—”
    She broke off, charmed and baffled when he simply swung around and stalked through the doorway. She followed to see him walk to the fire, settle himself, then look back at her as if waiting.
    “Smart, aren’t you?” she murmured. “Very smart.” As she approached cautiously, his gaze never left her face. She lowered herself to the ottoman. “Do you belong to anyone?” She lifted her hand, her fingers itching to touch. She waited for a growl, a snarl, a warning, and when none came she lightly laid her hand on his head. “No, you wouldn’t belong to anyone but yourself. That’s how it is for the brave and the beautiful.”
    When her fingers stroked down to his neck, rubbing gently, his eyes narrowed. She thought she recognized pleasure in them and smiled a little. “You like that? Me, too. Touching’s as good as being touched, and no one’s really touched me for so long. But you don’t want to hear the story of my life. It’s not very interesting. Yours would be,” she mused. “I bet you’d have fascinating tales to tell.”
    He smelled of the forest, of the rain. Of animal. And, oddly, of something … familiar. She grew bolder, running her hands down his back, over his flanks, back to his head. “You’ll dry here by the fire,” she began; thenher hand paused in midstroke, and her brows drew together.
    “He wasn’t wet,” she said quietly. “He came through the rain, but he wasn’t wet. Was he?” Puzzled, she stared out the dark window. Liam’s hair was as black as the wolf’s fur, but it hadn’t gleamed with rain or damp. Had it?
    “How could that be? Even if he’d driven over, he had to get from the car to the door, and …”
    She trailed off when the wolf moved closer, when his handsome head nuzzled her thigh. With a murmur of pleasure, she began to stroke him again, grinning when the rumble in his throat reminded her of a very human, very male sound of approval.
    “Maybe you’re lonely, too.”
    And she sat with him while the storm shifted out to sea, the thunder quieted and the whips of rain and wind turned to soft patters.
    It didn’t surprise her that he walked through the house with her. Somehow it seemed perfectly natural that he would accompany her as she blew out candles, switched off lights. He climbed the stairs with her and sat by her side as she lit the bedroom fire.
    “I love it here,” she murmured, sitting back on her heels to watch the flames catch. “Even when I’m lonely, like I was tonight, it feels right being here. As if I’ve always needed to come to this place.”
    She turned her head, smiled a little. They were eye to eye now, deep blue to dark gold. Reaching out, she skimmed her hand under his powerful jaw, rubbing the silky line of his throat. “No one would believe me. No one I know would believe me if I told them I was in a cabin in Oregon talking to a big, black, gorgeous wolf. And maybe I’m just dreaming. I do a lot of that,” she