Werewolves in London by Karilyn Bentley

Chapter 1
    “Your dog doesn’t respect you.” Vonda reached down to scratch behind Sam’s ear. “I can help you with that problem, but I can’t help train him to herd. Do we have a deal?”
    Tom took off his hat, scratched his head and slammed it back on as if to hold in steam. Judging from the color of his face, he should have let his hair wave free in the breeze. It might cool things off. One long finger pointed at Sam. One nicely shaped, work hardened finger. The list of things that finger could do to her body rushed through Vonda’s brain on fast forward. It didn’t help that the man whose finger provoked such lascivious thoughts was the best-looking thing in this little Podunk town.
    Why was she thinking such thoughts? Concentrate, Vonda, concentrate! Last time she thought this way about a man she was in heat. Oh shit. Not again . No wonder Sam stuck to her like proverbial glue.
    Wait. Tom’s mouth was moving. “...me?”
    “Huh? I’m sorry, what did you say?” Good job Vonda, way to look stupid on your first visit with a client.
    “I said, how can that dog not respect me?”
    “Well, dogs see things differently than humans. If you don’t act like the alpha, then they assume they are the alpha. That’s what creates problems. That’s where I can help.”
    “Yes, yes. I know. But I have other herding dogs. None of them give me problems. What’s up with that?” His frustrated green stare bored into her.
    Men frustrated so easily. Humans in general. Ever see a canine with hypertension?
    Sam licked her hand. She took in a shallow breath when his tongue rasped against her skin and it was then she smelled it. The scent of a man. Not just any man. A man she wanted to mate with. A man about six four, with sandy blond, almost brown hair and green eyes. A man who stood less than three feet from her.
    Damn hormones .
    If she didn’t get out of here soon she’d lose any chance of ever being a dog trainer.
    She looked at her wrist. Two hairs past a freckle . “Well, all dogs are different and therefore react differently. Look, I really have to run. Do you want me to come back and help you with Sam or not?”
    Say yes, say yes, say yes . He opened his mouth, closed it, looked at Sam, then her, then Sam. He sighed. Oh yeah, she had the job.
    “Okay. When do you want to start?”
    She looked at the evening sky, the oranges and pinks blushing across the horizon. Tonight was one day from the full moon and she felt the pull of its magic creep under her skin, touching the beast inside her, coaxing it out of hiding. She would be hard-pressed not to change for the next three days. Well, Tom had waited this long for help, what would be three more days?
    “Thursday. Will that work for you?”
    He stuck out his hand. “Sounds good. What time did you want to come out?”
    She gripped his hand, holding tight despite the tingles shooting straight into her core from where their palms met. Desire ripped through her hormone sensitive veins and she fought the urge to pull him against her. Damn heat . He pulled away, shaking his hand.
    “Did you feel that?”
    “I’m sorry. Sometimes I build up electricity. Would nine in the morning be okay?”
    “Umm, sure.”
    “Great. Gotta run. It’s been real nice meeting you.” One last pat to Sam’s head and she zipped back to her car.
    Thank God she had irregular heat cycles. The last time the heat ran through her veins seemed mild compared to the desire Tom evoked in her, and yet she hadn’t resisted the urge to mate. Look how that ended, with her husband screaming to the divorce judge that she was a furry dog.
    What had she been thinking? Her ex couldn’t even tell the difference between a dog and a wolf.
    But he had taught her an important lesson and that was to stay away from men. Electronic devices worked quite well, thank you very much. And until she met Tom McGowan her philosophy had worked. A bit lonely at times— okay, who was she fooling, all the time —but a little