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Lisa couldn't concentrate. She saved the changes she'd made to the corporate logo she was designing and shut down Photoshop, then her computer. Her deadline was in three days, but she wasn't in the mood to keep pretending that she might make progress.

Right now, work was the last thing on her mind. Refusing to give her a moment's peace, images of the body in the park filled her thoughts, along with worry about the odd look Jessi had given her that morning when she returned to find Lisa untied and waiting with the rest of her payment at the front door. But most of all, thoughts of Jennie distracted Lisa.

True to her word, Jennie had called Lisa at eight o'clock the night before to check in. Terrified to let things escalate between them, Lisa had let the call go to voice mail. And she'd regretted it every minute since. For fifteen years now she'd believed she just wasn't meant to be with anyone, but Jennie was undeniably different. They had a connection, and Lisa was almost positive it went both ways.

Would it be possible for Jennie to accept Lisa for who she was, or did she represent yet another heartbreak?

She couldn't know without allowing Jennie into her life. And that was the one thing she wasn't sure she could do.

Trying not to think about how badly she wanted to return Jennie's call, Lisa wondered instead about the man in the ski mask. What had he wanted? Judging from the way he hadn't attempted to remove any clothing past tearing Jennie's shirt, it seemed unlikely that he had intended to rape her. If he had, Lisa would have expected him to be actively working toward that goal when she came upon them. But he'd been focused on tracing his knife over Jennie's chest, watching her face.

Clearly Jennie's fear aroused him.

Though he'd taken Jennie's purse, he probably hadn't intended to rob her, either. The time he had obviously spent with her on the ground suggested that his interest had been Jennie, not her bag. He had reminded Lisa of a predator on the hunt, and she couldn't help but worry that his ultimate goal had been murder.

Maybe she hadn't killed the woman in the park. What if Jennie's attacker had?

The thought brought sick, momentary relief, then worry. As much as she didn't want to believe she was capable of murdering someone, if that man was responsible for the dead woman, a killer had targeted Jennie.

And he knew where she lived.

Lisa pushed back from her desk and stood up. More than twenty-four hours had passed since the attack, but the weather had been typical San Francisco: cool and damp. Surely his scent would still be there. Doing nothing wasn't an option, so she walked to her window and opened it slightly. Then she stepped away from the curtains to undress.

If she were smart, she'd try to forget about Jennie and move on with her life. Especially if she hadn't murdered that poor woman in the park. She could still slip back into the shadows unnoticed, call to the police notwithstanding. She had already broken her rules once for Jennie, shifting into wolf form in public. If she wanted to keep her secret, she needed to not make a habit of it. Simply having anything more to do with Jennie would violate her ultimate rule: Relationships lead to heartache and pain, so avoid them at all costs, romantic ones in particular.

A relationship with Jennie would quickly turn romantic. The connection between them was intense, and that force would surely pull them together physically. Lisa wouldn't have the strength to resist it.

Jennie wouldn't realize that she should.

Then what? How would Lisa explain to Jennie why she always disappeared the day before a full moon, only to return the day after? A lover would want to know such things. That was why Lisa never let herself get involved.

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