The Unforgettable Wolf

When the hunter falls for his prey, all bets are off.

Once a werewolf, always a werewolf? That’s not the case for rock star Nate Zilar, who was saved from the ultimate transformation. Now he’s devoted his life to hunting wolves...until he rescues the mysterious Violet from their clutches. But when she must return to the Otherworld, Nate is left with an impossible choice: lose the only woman he desires or forever become the one thing he despises.

At first, Violet can’t remember how she came to Nate’s world. It isn’t long before she realizes she poses the ultimate threat to her sexy protector. How could he possibly love the daughter of his sworn enemy? But where there’s a wolf, there’s a way...

Sorry? How could he explain that he didn’t want her memory to come back because that would mean she would leave him?

How selfish did that make him? “Will you be okay up here?”

“Okay?” She tilted her head back, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t wait to see this concert.”

“It should be a good one. Khan is in fine form.”

“I won’t be watching Khan. I’ll be looking at you.” There was a husky note in Violet’s voice.

And, because he couldn’t help himself, Nate bent his head and kissed her. Fire spread through him as soon as his lips connected with hers, so hot he thought he might burn up with it. When his tongue probed the seam of her lips, they parted readily for him, and he probed the honeyed warmth of her mouth. Violet’s hands bunched in the material of his T-shirt as though she was using him to stay upright. He groaned, kissing her harder, and she trembled, returning the caresses of his tongue eagerly.

She tasted like everything he had ever wanted and never knew he needed until now.

JANE GODMAN writes in a variety of romance genres, including paranormal, gothic and romantic suspense. Jane lives in England and loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history and romance—Venice, Dubrovnik and Vienna are among her favorites. Jane is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children.

The Unforgettable Wolf

Jane Godman

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my beautiful new daughter-in-law, Julia, who is already such a special part of our family. Congratulations on your wedding to my wonderful son, Mike. I am looking forward to sharing lots of amazing memories with you both.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Just because he was no longer a werewolf didn’t mean he wasn’t big and bad. It just meant he had to be careful. Very, very careful.

Which was why, as the courier approached, Nate Zilar’s every sense was on high alert. He had chosen this meeting place because of its deserted location and had checked the surrounding area carefully. There was no one around. The parking lot was empty, apart from his car and the truck in which the other guy had just pulled up.

“Do you have the merchandise?”

“In the back.” The courier jerked his head.

Nate stepped forward. Another quick scan of his surroundings confirmed they were alone. Even now, after six years, he got flashbacks to that time. A reminder of that brief period when everything—his vision, hearing, scent and intuition—had all been so much more acute. When his body had been a raw mass of power and reaction. It wasn’t welcome, but at times like this, that residual supercharging of his senses came in useful.

The courier stepped aside, allowing Nate to view the objects in the back of the truck through the open doors. Silver samurai sword. Three daggers in varying sizes. They were the real thing. Nate had seen enough imitations and alloys over the years to know pure silver when he saw it. And he could smell it. It was another thing that had stayed with him. That crawling, gut-churning, nostril-burning stink of verdigris and death. When you’d been stabbed through the heart with a silver dagger, you never forgot the stench. It remained embedded in your pores, branded deep in your psyche.

Even though his shifting days were over, Nate remembered the damage silver could do. It was the only thing guaranteed to kill a werewolf. And he should know. He examined the guns. They were what he had ordered. His favorite Remington 700 and a couple of handguns.

“Bullets?”

“A dozen. Solid silver.” The courier pointed to a box.

Nate shook his head. What if his quarry wasn’t alone? “Not enough. I need at least twice that many.”

He clenched his teeth hard, biting back his frustration. This was the problem with international travel. He couldn’t carry his own kit on an airplane, so he was forced to rely on others to have things ready and waiting for him. At least here in America he could usually count on getting exactly what he wanted. In some places, like on his recent mission to a remote African state, it proved more of a problem.