Sharon was formal and cool, especially after he had ignored the pass she made at him. He always sensed there was a part of her that was scared of him. A part of her that would watch him, especially whenever her daughter was around-as if she expected him to go wild on them or something.
It had always insulted him, but then, he was so used to insults that he had shrugged it off.
But he didn't feel that with Astrid.
She treated him as if he were normal. Made it easy for him to forget the fact that he wasn't.
Zarek dressed quickly and went back to the den where Astrid sat sideways on the couch reading a book in braille. Sasha was resting on the couch at her feet. The wolf lifted its head and stared at him with what appeared to be hatred in its wolfish gray eyes.
Zarek, who had retrieved the paring knife from the kitchen, grabbed another piece of wood.
"So how did you end up with a wolf as a pet?" he asked, sitting in the chair nearest the fire so that he could toss the wood shavings into the hearth.
He didn't know why he talked to her. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered, and yet he found himself strangely curious about her life.
Astrid reached down to pet the wolf at her feet. "I'm not really sure. Much like you, I found him lying hurt and I brought him in and nursed him back to health. He's been with me ever since."
"I'm surprised he let you tame him."
She smiled at that. "I am, too. It wasn't easy to get him to trust me."
Zarek thought about that for a minute. " 'You must be very patient. First you will sit down at a little distance from me-like that-in the grass.' "
Astrid's mouth opened in shock as Zarek continued quoting one of her favorite passages. She couldn't have been more stunned had he thrown something at her. "You know The Little Prince?"
"I've read it a time or two."
More than that for him to be able to quote it so unerringly. Astrid leaned up again to touch Sasha so that she could look at Zarek.
He sat catty-corner from her while he whittled. The firelight played in his midnight eyes. The black sweater hugged his body, and though black whiskers covered his face, she was again struck by how handsome he was.
There was something almost relaxed about him as he worked. A poetic grace that warred with the hard cynical twist of his mouth. The deadly aura that enveloped him tighter than his black jeans.
"I love that book," she said quietly. "It's always been one of my favorites."
He didn't speak. He just sat there with his piece of wood held carefully in his hand as his long, tapered fingers moved gracefully over it. This was the first time the air around him didn't seem so dark. So dangerous.
She wouldn't call it peaceful exactly, but it wasn't as sinister as it had been before.
"Did you read it as a child?" she asked.
"No," he said quietly.
She cocked her head, watching him as he worked.
He paused, then turned to look at her with a frown.
Astrid let go of Sasha and sat back.
Zarek didn't move as he watched her and her pooch. There was something very strange here: every instinct he had told him so. He stared at Sasha.
If he didn't know better...
But why would a werewolf be in Alaska with a blind woman? The magnetic fields here would be hard on either an Arcadian or Katagari male who would have a difficult time maintaining a consistent form while the electrons in the air played havoc with their magic.
No, it wasn't probable.
And yet...