chapter 2

Jake sat with his back to the wall to have a better view of the door. If he wanted to look her over, he'd have to turn his head and be pretty obvious about it. He did. The expression on his face was dark and foreboding. Gone was the humor his features had held when he first walked into the place.

Laughing and boisterous, three more men barged into the tavern, glanced to where Jake and Tom sat, then shifted their attention to Lelandi. Which meant what? That Jake and Tom normally sat with Darien at the table where she was now sitting?

Terrific!

"Howdy, boys," the older bearded man of the group said, nodding a greeting. The other two were nearly as old, gray streaking their brown beards, their gazes pinned on her. "Bring us the usual, Sam." He turned to Jake and pointed his head at her. "He know about this?"

"Still giving orders at the factory, Mason," Tom said.

The bearded man grumbled, "Fourth of July's coming for a second time this year."

Figuring she'd be better off sitting next to the rest- rooms to lessen the chance of creating fireworks, Lelandi grabbed her purse.

The door banged open again. The chatter died.

As soon as she saw him, she knew it was him—not only because silence instantly cloaked the room and every eye in the place watched Darien Silver's reaction. His sable hair curled at the top edge of his collar. Brooding dark eyes, grim lips, features handsomely rugged, but definitely hard, defined him. Wearing a leather jacket, western shirt, jeans, and boots, everything was as black as his somber mood. He looked so much like Tom and Jake, she figured they must be triplets, and he was the leader of the gray lupus garou in the area. Had to be, the way everyone watched him, waiting for the fireworks.

Something about him stirred her blood, something akin to recognition, yet she'd never seen him before in her life. It wasn't his face, or clothes, or body that stimulated some deep memory—but the way he moved— commanding, powerful, with an effortless grace.

He glanced at the barkeep and gave a nod of greeting—sullen, silent, still in mourning for his mate? If he discovered why Lelandi was here, he'd be pissed.

A shiver trickled down her spine. She released her purse and kept her seat, for the moment. Everyone was acting so oddly, she imagined that was the reason he quickly surveyed the current seating arrangement. When his eyes lit on her, incredulity registered.

Crap! He recognized her; she just knew it. Didn't matter that she had dyed her hair this horrible color that didn't do anything for her fair skin, or that her eyes were now blue. Didn't matter that the heavy padded leather jacket gave her broader shoulders and made her appear heavier, or that she wore her hair straight as blades of uncut grass, compliments of a hair straightening iron, when her sister's and hers was naturally curly. She couldn't hide the shape of her face or eyes or mouth. All of them mirrored her sister's looks.

Then again, his look was puzzled. The hat and glasses appeared to confuse him. Maybe the fact that she wore the faux pierced earrings that looked like the real thing did too.

She broke eye contact first, her skin sweaty, her hands trembling. God, he was more wolf than she was used to dealing with—broader-shouldered and taller. His eyes locked onto hers with sinful determination, no backing down, no compromise. No wonder Larissa had fallen for the attention-grabbing gray. Lelandi couldn't help wondering how a romp with a virile wolf like him would feel. But damn if it hadn't gotten Larissa killed. Stick with your own kind, that's what her father would have said. No humans, lupus garou only... the red variety.

Everyone remained deathly quiet—no one lifted a mug to take a sip of a drink, no one moved a muscle. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look at Darien, to see what he was doing now.

Still staring at her. She wanted to sink into the floor like mop water on a hot day. She gritted her teeth, lifted her glass of water, and took another swig, hoping she wouldn't inadvertently choke on the icy drink out of nervousness. But she wasn't leaving Silver Town until she avenged Larissa's death.

Darien glanced at Sam, who shrugged a shoulder and handed him an empty glass. If Darien wanted her out of his chair, he would have to move her.

Macho gang leaders had to show they were in charge, particularly when it came to their territory, and no one, especially women, upstaged them. There were none more notorious for this than lupus garous. No one chal- lenged them and got away with it, unless another lupus garou was trying to take over the pack, and won.

She wasn't part of his pack. She wasn't a male. And she wasn't a gray. What's worse, she looked like his dead mate. On the other hand, it appeared he wasn't sure of what he was seeing.