Read Online Beauty and the Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller - Free Book Online

paintings.” Taking the asparagus off the grill, she rolled a few onto each plate and then flipped the coated chicken onto the top. “He stopped going out, but when I’d stop by to check on him, he seemed happy. As if the paintings truly eased whatever pain he was hiding inside.”
    “Oh, that’s deep, Jasmine,” he said, staring at his food the second she slid it over the island. “Is that what your psychology degree did for you?”
    She shrugged, standing across from them with her own plate. “Am I off base?”
    Isabelle’s gaze flipped between them.
    “It’s reaching,” he answered quickly.
    “Umm-hmm,” Jasmine mumbled, her cheeks full of chicken. “That’s why you gave me Werewolf in Manhattan , wasn’t it?”
    “Why?” Isabelle said, scooting closer—so close their arms brushed, sending chills through him. “Why’d you give it to her?”
    “So I wouldn’t feel so lonely,” Jasmine answered for him. “If it worked for him, so he didn’t feel lonely without his Luminary, it would work for me.”
    As he chewed slowly, trying to keep food in his mouth so he didn’t have to talk, Isabelle’s gaze heated the side of his face.
    “Which was why I was so surprised when he called, saying he was going to give the paintings to you. It’s not that I mind giving it up—it was never mine to begin with—but he’d held on so tightly for so long”—she set down her fork and bent over the island—“and then he shows up with you, and I understand.”
    Isabelle’s heart slowed—he could hear its strumming beat, calling him.
    “You understand what?” Isabelle said softly.
    Jasmine’s eyes sparked with dark amusement. “She really doesn’t know, does she?”
    He shook his head and choked down the last bite of food. It was tastier than it smelled, creamy and flavorful. He swallowed down a helping of despair, too, while he was at it.
    “Forget it,” Jasmine said with a smile while turning on her charm. “Enough about Jack and me, and Bella Nolan. Which part of Ireland are you from?”
    They talked for hours about Ireland and San Francisco and New York and places they’d never been that they’d always wanted to go. He hadn’t realized it was nearly four o’clock, but the tremors rattling through his fingers served as a personal alarm clock.
    They were coming closer now.
    “Time to go,” he said, and hustled her out the front door.
    With Werewolf in Manhattan in one hand, Isabelle embraced Jasmine in a bear hug with the other and kissed her on the cheek. They certainly took their sweet time to say good-bye.
    Not like they had a ticking timer counting down the last minutes of their life, or anything…
    “She’s the one,” Jasmine whispered into Jack’s ear when they embraced. “I think she might be the only one who can’t see it.”
    He nodded in total agreement and turned to stride toward the car. His stomach seized into a knot. His vision swam and his hands went numb.
    Not now.
    “You drive,” he said, digging into his pocket and throwing Isabelle the keys.
    Wouldn’t want to have a seizure on the road and put them both in jeopardy.
    Her face lit up as she stowed the painting in the trunk. “You sure you want me to drive again?”
    If he got the feeling he was going to die again, hell yes.
    It’d give him just the rush he needed to make it back to the city.
    She drove the Porsche hard and fast, exactly the way he’d needed her to. She’d tried to make small talk, but he had to stay focused on slowing his heart rate. Surges of energy pulsed through him, smoothing out the shakes. But the nausea remained. And his vision was still off. There were two Isabelles in his sights—not that having two of her wouldn’t be amazing in certain scenarios.
    “Are you okay, Jack?” she asked as they pulled up to the airport. “Every now and again your color looks off. You look…gray.”
    His vision cleared, only for a moment. “I’m fine.”
    Or at least he would be.
    The flight back to