When they arrived at CJ’s home, she thought how beautiful it was. French provincial style, fashionable, elegant, a big circular drive with a stand of birch trees in the center. She had thought his house might have had a simpler design. She loved it. And she couldn’t help thinking about living there—with him. She knew that was far-fetched, and yet a little thrill of excitement welled up in her at the thought. A real home. Roots. A pack. CJ. Yeah, she could see it.

As soon as Brett parked his car in the drive and shut off the engine, it was as if CJ’s wolf senses were awakened and he knew at once that he was home. He sat up, groaned a little, and then smiled to see her sitting in the front seat, as if he’d forgotten she was coming home with him.

Even though he objected to Brett helping him into the house while she carried in the cake and her bag, his brother reminded him, “I told Laurel you’d be on your best behavior while she stayed with you.”

She smiled at the brothers and unlocked the door. As they entered the house, the lights turned on immediately.

Brett told her the security code and where the alarm was located while he helped CJ in. She quickly disarmed it, then set the cake in the kitchen. It was all done in blue and white tile, and she loved the color scheme. Then she found Brett helping CJ to his bed in a large master bedroom suite, complete with private bath, wide-screen TV, and sitting area. She wondered what he watched in bed. She could envision seeing Christmas stories on the TV as she snuggled with him.

Everything in the room was decorated in forest greens and burgundies, making it look like a hunting lodge, very masculine and wolfish, yet really appealing to her nature too, probably owing to her wolfish side. It had a Victorian feel, not new age, and she loved that too.

“I’ll check on you both in the morning.” Brett patted her on the shoulder in a brotherly way. “Don’t let him give you a hard time.”

“I heard that,” CJ said, frowning at him.

“He’ll be fine.” Laurel walked Brett to the front door, said good night, then shut the door and locked it. She thought about getting CJ a slice of cake, but figured it was so late now that he’d probably rather just sleep. She had every intention of sleeping on the velour couch in his living room, if he didn’t have another furnished bedroom.

Tired, and ready to go to bed herself, Laurel returned to CJ’s bedroom. “Do you want me to remove your clothes?”

“Hell, yeah,” he said, and the growly expression immediately vanished. He held his arms out to her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

“You’re hurting,” she said, drawing closer.

“Hell, one of the techs swabbed down all the insignificant scratches, just to look like he was doing something. I look great for getting a she-wolf’s sympathy, don’t I?”

She chuckled, loving his sense of humor, but then she frowned, unable to imagine him falling like that and surviving. “You could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t. I’m fine.” He let out his breath. “Thank you for staying with me tonight. Staying at the vet clinic wasn’t an option.”

She laughed and began untying his boots. “I would never have thought that an injured pack member would be taken to the vet clinic. What would they have done with you for the night? Put you in a cage?”

“No way. If I’d been injured that badly, Doc Mitchell would have transferred me to the human clinic. Doc Mitchell was called to come out since he’s more used to trudging through the woods. I was hurting at the time, so I didn’t want to shift in the cold and have to try to get dressed in a hurry.”

She sighed. “I really worried about you. Everyone was.”

“I’m sorry. I had no way to get ahold of you.”

“Darien and Lelandi kept me informed.”

“I’m glad. And Trevor was watching over things there.”

“Yeah.”

“I think more than a third of our pack members were out hunting for me. If any bunnies were around, they must have been quivering their little tails off.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “I’m glad the men found you okay.” She pulled off a boot and dumped it on the floor, and then the other. Once she’d slipped off his socks, she moved to unbutton his blue flannel shirt. He wasn’t wearing a sweater, but she supposed that was because he hadn’t wanted to wear anything else over his cuts and bruises.

When her fingers touched his top button, he wrapped his hands around hers. “No matter what we discover,” CJ said, his voice dark and serious, “I want you to stay here. With me, the pack. You and your sisters.”

She looked up at him. He was frowning at her, appearing a little anxious.

“Because of what we might discover about how our aunt disappeared?”

“Because I want you in my life.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. He was talking of mating with her? But she didn’t want to assume that’s what he was saying and make a fool of herself.

“What do you want, Laurel? Beyond learning what happened to your aunt? Do you always want to move to new locations and remodel old hotels? Do you feel that’s your calling? Or is it just something you love to do, but given a choice—like staying here with the pack, with me—you might consider just running the hotel and still be happy?”

“What if we learn your father was involved in my aunt’s disappearance?”

“Then he was involved. It won’t come between us.”

“What if it was someone else, someone close to you in the pack, and you felt resentful that we discovered the truth and upset everyone?”

“We can’t allow pack members to murder people without paying the price, no matter how long ago it happened or who they are or how well they’re liked. If it was due to extenuating circumstances—not saying that it was in your aunt’s case, but just an example, if someone was defending himself and fatally injured the one attacking him, then we would have to take that into consideration.” He ran his hands down her arms as she worked on his buttons again. “Did you find any secret compartments in the furniture that your aunt owned?”

“No. Not yet at least. Maybe they don’t have any. Do you have any cabinetmakers in the pack?”

“Jacob, the electrician. He’s made furniture on and off. We could have him take a look at the pieces. When you were looking over the old photos, did you see if your aunt was in any of them?”

“Aunt Clarinda didn’t look like us, unfortunately. She was darker haired than Mom, finer boned, taller. I didn’t see anyone in any of the photos that looked like her. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t there. Just that she wasn’t photographed in those particular photos.”

“I agree. Here, let’s take off your snow boots,” CJ said.

She gave him a look like she knew where this was headed.

“It’s late. You have to sleep. You can’t sleep in your boots.”

She smiled, sat down on the bed, and removed her boots and socks. Then she stood and helped him out of his shirt, though she was certain he didn’t need her help and was just enjoying her touch and the closeness it afforded him.

“Did you see any sign of the white wolf?” she asked.

He hesitated to say.

“You did. Brett didn’t say anything about it.”

“Yeah, I did. Though the thought briefly crossed my mind that the wolf was not really there. That I had imagined it.”

Surprised, she stared at him. “Why?”

“My head was hurting, and when I looked up again, he or she was gone. The wolf had to be one of us, or he wouldn’t have come to check me out. He had to be worried about me, or he wouldn’t have risked discovery.”

Laurel couldn’t believe that he had actually seen the wolf. “Did he howl for anyone to come to help you?”

“No. The next time I looked, he was gone.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

Her lips parted as she studied his serious expression. And she realized he was treating her like someone special. Someone he felt comfortable enough with to share the secrets that he didn’t want to divulge to anyone else. Something a mate would do.