He looked at her and she raised her eyebrows-and Sunny recognized the look from her own repertoire built to deal with a dominant male who didn’t always follow the rules of civilization.

“That’s a good expression,” she told Anna. “Though I’ve found elevating just one eyebrow is more effective. If that one doesn’t work, I’ve found it’s just best to ignore them until they decide to settle down. Why don’t you both come in, and I’ll get you something to drink. Arthur will be down in a minute. Can I get you some scotch or brandy? Or we have a really nice white wine.”

Anna gave her a grin and followed her in while her mate closed the door, gently, behind them. “Ignoring works for you? I just prod until he snaps. Do you have water? No alcohol for me tonight-I’m driving. It might not affect me anymore, but if I get pulled over, I don’t want to smell like alcohol.”

“He lets you drive?” Sunny asked, taken aback and more than a little jealous. “The last time I drove when Arthur was in the car was the day I met him. I was driving my father’s car to Devon, and his car was off beside the road with two flat tires.”

“I don’t like driving,” said Charles. “Brandy would be good, thank you.”

His voice was as delicious as the rest of him. Deep and slow with a hint of Welsh and something else altering the usual American accent.

Disturbed because she’d never felt like this around any of the werewolves Arthur had brought to her home before, Sunny took the excuse of his words and went to the bar in the corner of the living room and began getting drinks for her guests.

It wasn’t that she’d never looked at another man-but she’d never felt this… safe. It was an unexpected reaction to a man she knew was dangerous, and it threw her off her game.

She took down the cut-glass flask she’d purchased a few years ago in Venice -and Anna was there to take it from her and set it on the bar.

“I know,” the other woman said softly. “It’s all right. You should feel it when the Marrok comes into a room of strange wolves. He’ll settle down in a moment, and it won’t hit you like that.” She looked at her mate, then pulled the stopper from the flask, and the smell of good brandy rose from it. “He’s had a bad day, and that makes it worse.”

Sunny got a brandy snifter from the cupboard beneath the bar and gave it to Anna. “What happened?”

Anna smiled and shrugged as she poured the brandy. “Same stuff, different day.” It felt like an evasion. “He doesn’t like cities any more than he likes driving or cell phones or airplanes or-”

“-People talking about him like he isn’t here,” growled the werewolf as if driven to speak.

When Arthur sounded like that, she knew to leave him alone. His mate just grinned at him. “Come over here and get your brandy-how can you stand that stuff, anyway? I never could drink it, even when the alcohol was the point of it. Quit scaring our hostess.”

He took a deep breath and… he was just an exasperated man standing in the middle of her living room. He strode over and took the glass his wife handed to him, then turned his attention to Sunny.

“My apologies,” he said, and his voice didn’t make her heart rate pick up in response. “As Anna told you, I am out of sorts tonight. But there’s no reason to take it out on you.”

Dismissing his apology as unnecessary seemed wrong, so she tried for the next best thing. “Accepted.”

Anna was looking around the room. “This feels more like a home than a place you’re renting for a few weeks-you have a nice touch.”

Sunny handed her a cold bottle of water from the supply in the fridge. “Oh, Arthur has a few places scattered around. He doesn’t come to this one much, but he got it for me for our thirtieth anniversary. I usually come here for a month in the summer. He doesn’t like to travel, but he knows that I do.”

She stopped herself from saying more with difficulty. Hiding a frown behind a friendly smile, she got out the chilled bottle of her favorite white wine. She never blathered on like that. She was used to keeping secrets. Not that her travels or this condo were secrets, exactly. Still, she hadn’t meant to talk about them.

She was saved by the squeak of the stairs as Arthur came down them in an easy rush.

ANNA watched the British wolf-king descend.

“You were late,” he said by way of greeting. “I was worried something might have happened.”

“No,” said Anna cheerfully. They’d talked about what to say about the attack, and finally came to the conclusion that the best thing would be to warn the other Omega’s Alpha and otherwise keep quiet. The attack had nothing to do with anyone else-and Charles said he was not going to encourage copycats. So she took the blame for their arrival time. No one would ever believe Charles would be late for anything, anyway. “It took me a little too long to get dressed. I’m sorry.”

Sunny poured a second snifter of brandy for Arthur-yet another werewolf who drank it, despite not being able to benefit from the effects of the alcohol. Arthur’s mate poured a glass of wine for herself.

“Dinner will be ready in about a half hour, I believe,” Arthur said. “In the meantime, I thought you might be interested in looking at my collection.”

“Collection?” Anna asked.

“What I have here isn’t very valuable,” he explained. “Nor historically significant. We don’t spend much time here, and even with a security service…” He shrugged. “Still, I have some interesting things.”

“Did you bring Excalibur?” asked Charles.

Arthur’s eyebrow climbed elegantly up his forehead as he smiled a little. “Never go anywhere without her.”

“Isn’t that a little problematic?” Anna asked. “Flying internationally with a sword?”

“I fly privately,” he said.

“Of course,” murmured Anna with self-directed mockery at her sudden elevation to the rich and important. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Poor plebeian,” murmured Charles, and she was pretty sure she was the only one who caught the humor in his voice, because both Arthur and Sunny looked taken aback.

“Arthur has trouble with commercial jet travel,” Sunny hurried to explain.

“I’m sorry.” Anna gave Charles a “help me” look. She couldn’t think of another thing to say that wouldn’t make the situation even worse.

Charles came to the rescue. “Anna’s first pack was… troubled and very poor. We’ve been married less than a month, and she’s had a lot to adjust to.”

“Living a long time doesn’t mean that you’ll be rich,” said Arthur with an understanding look. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Long-term investments give a whole new meaning to the term ‘compound interest,’ ” added Sunny.

“Tell me about your collection,” said Anna a little desperately. And then, because she couldn’t help her interest, “About Excalibur.”

“I used to be an archaeologist,” explained Arthur. “Strictly amateur-which was acceptable to my father in a way that a profession wouldn’t have been. Digs weren’t as well regulated then, and I was excavating the grounds of an old Cornish settlement conveniently situated on a school-mate’s parents’ estate when I found her, just dug her up.”

He didn’t seem crazy-nor did he seem to mind the questions. If they weren’t talking about… about Excalibur, for Heaven’s sake, she would be fascinated by the story.

“How do you know it was Excalibur you found?”

He smiled at her. “Tell me, my dear, do you believe in reincarnation?”

No. But that wasn’t the polite answer. “I’ve never heard a convincing argument for it.”

His smile widened. “I suppose it suffices to say that I do, and that I believe I am the Once and Future King, who will return in the time of greatest need.” Then he winked at her. “I don’t insist that others buy into my eccentricities.”

If people remembered once being kitchen maids, or farmers who died of nothing more interesting than old age, I might reconsider my stance on reincarnation, Anna thought as she returned the British wolf’s smile. She remembered her father once observing dryly, If fourteen people believe they were Cleopatra in a former life, does that mean that Cleopatra had split personality disorder?