"So they've finally found a print?"
"Taken it off the last victim's skirt, apparently."
"If she was here the whole night, that print could belong to anyone."
"It was a blood print, and evidently it matches the blood type they've found under the previous victims nails."
"The reports we have said the blood they'd found was A-positive. None of us are."
"The rangers don't know that."
He glanced back at the door. Still no sign of Neva. "It might be best if we cooperate with them on this. Maybe when they realize it's not one of us, they'll start looking for the real killer."
Zeke smiled. "You really think that?"
"No." Because the last time he'd cooperated with the police, he'd ended up in jail anyway. "I'll drop by the ranger office tomorrow and make arrangements."
"Do that. And come to my suite about five. We'll see if Mariata's autopsy report varies any from the other three." Zeke hesitated, his smile widening. "If you dare spend the time away from your pretty spy, that is."
Duncan grinned. "With what I intended to do to her over the next couple of hours, she'll undoubtedly be in a deep and exhausted sleep come five o'clock." He clapped his father on the arm, then headed for the door.
* * * *
Neva had barely taken three steps when Duncan appeared in the doorway. The moonlight gleamed off his skin and caressed his face, making him appear more like a dark angel than ever. His obsidian eyes were almost otherworldly. And so hot. So hungry.
Her throat went dry, and she stopped. His gaze swept down her body, and he might as well have been caressing her with his hand, because every inch of her responded with heated delight.
"What happened to the plate of food I requested?" Her voice came out little more than a husky whisper, and his eyes gleamed in response.
"The buffet has been sitting there for a while. I thought something fresher would be better."
"A burger would be good right now." And though she doubted he'd comply, at least the suggestion kept up the illusion that she was here unwillingly. If what he'd said to her at her parents' place was any indication, he was suspicious about her reasons for being with him, and the more she did to waylay those suspicions, the more chance she'd have to snoop.
His slow smile made her stomach flip-flop. "I had something more substantial in mind."
She let her gaze roam down the firm planes of his body until she came to the very visible evidence of his arousal under his jeans.
"So I can see," she murmured, and even as she said it, she wondered where her mind was. Playing games with this man was not a good idea.
Not when his need blanketed the air, making it difficult to even breathe. Not when desire skated across her skin and it felt like her heart was going to race out of her chest. And she knew it wasn't the moon's influence, but the man himself. She might hate him, but the wolf within wanted him. Badly.
But she didn't dare give that part of herself complete freedom. Not here, and definitely not with Duncan. Once the murderer was caught and this moon phase was over, she had bridges to mend and a life to get back to. A life he had practically destroyed.
"Why don't we take this discussion somewhere a little warmer?" His voice was soft and sexy enough to melt chocolate.
She nodded mutely. He touched a hand to her back, searing heat past her spine. A tremor ran through her. What was it about this man that got to her so badly? Surely it was more than just his experience and skill when it came to the art of lovemaking. Lord, she might be new to the mansion and its environs, but she wasn't new to the dance itself. She'd had several mates over the years since puberty, but none of them had ever affected her this deeply. This quickly.
There again, none of them had the reputation that Duncan had, either.
He led her along the path and past several doors. The caress of music from the ballroom gradually died, and the only sound to be heard was the soft crunch of gravel under their shoes. The moon caressed the night with its silver light, and the heat of it raced through her veins, seeming to pool where his fingers pressed so lightly, so tenderly, against her back.
He guided her through an arch, then opened a door and ushered her inside. Though the room was dark, her night sight was wolf keen. They were in what looked like a commercial kitchen, filled with stainless steel appliances and bench tops.
"We're raiding the kitchen?" she asked, amused.
"Can you think of a better place to get fresh food?"
"I guess not."