She’d slept for hours—far longer than she’d intended. When she’d first crept into the bedroom, she’d known that immediate escape wasn’t a possibility. Tanner would have been on guard. So she’d planned to bide her time and wait a bit before slipping away. She’d climbed into bed—his bed. There had been no mistaking the rich, masculine scent that clung to the soft sheets. She’d eased beneath the covers and just closed her eyes for a few moments. She’d dreamed of Tanner. Hot, too vivid dreams of his naked flesh and his strong hands stroking her body. Kissing him back had been a dangerous mistake. Those kisses had just made the ache in her grow stronger. It was an ache for something she couldn’t have. The house was silent as she tiptoed to the top of the stairs. The banister gleamed, the wood shining. The walls upstairs were an old, faded brown, but the staircase was in perfect condition. As if someone had recently spent a lot of time restoring it. It looked like her shifter had a hobby.
