Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(35)

“Did you look under the stall?” a man asked, his voice darkly controlled.

Alicia glanced at the bottom of the stall door. If anyone peered underneath, they’d see her. And that would be the beginning of the end. Shrieks would ensue. Her heart would fail.

“No. I… I didn’t.” The woman sounded a bit shaken.

The door opened, and heavier footfalls approached. A man’s footfalls. Oh, God, oh God, please, please help me.

She felt the heat race through her bones and muscles, her nerves and blood. And prayed it was the change. And not caused by the frantic panic filling her blood. That she would once again be her normal self. Normal self. She laughed at herself over that. This proved she’d never be her normal self again.

Just as the footfalls ended abruptly at the stall door, the shift swiftly overtook her. She stood naked on the tile floor, the cool air conditioning sweeping across her bare skin, and she quickly squeaked out, “Sorry, I fainted. I’m pregnant. I’m sorry. I’ll be right out.”

It had been the only thing she could think of in her haste, remembering the time her mother had said she’d passed out when she was pregnant with Alicia.

As quickly as Alicia could, she jerked her panties off the floor and yanked them on. She fumbled with her bra after that, realizing the man was still standing outside the stall door, waiting for her to open up—probably in case she “fainted” once more. Heat again shimmered through her, but it was more of a skin-deep heat from embarrassment. If he opened the door now while she was half-naked, what in the world would he think she’d been up to?

She tugged the dress over her head and decided she didn’t look pregnant in the least, but she was extremely flushed and now perspiring. She was sure she looked overcome. Just like she felt.

After slipping her bare feet into her pumps, she wrenched open the stall door and smiled a diminutive, weary smile—at least that’s how she tried to make her expression look. Although she knew she had to look overwrought in any event.

“I’m sorry. I must have fainted again. Not enough electrolytes. My mother had warned me.” She rattled off the words, feeling truly light-headed and still worried her furry wolf half might try to take over again.

Then she headed for the sink and washed her hands, just like she would have done after using the facilities, if she’d used them.

The man still watched her warily, but she wasn’t sure whether he thought she was lying—he did look at her flat belly beneath the dress—or worried she’d faint again. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look to see his expression. But then a horrible thought occurred to her. What if he’d thought she was doing drugs?

She took a couple of steps forward, then grabbed his arm as if she might pass out again, and this time the expression on his face was one of pure horror. Not that she was faking much of anything. Her head wouldn’t quit spinning.

He grabbed her around the waist and sputtered, “D-do you need an ambulance?”

“No, thank you. I haven’t been eating enough. Or drinking enough fluids. I’ll… I’ll be all right.”

Still, he didn’t let her go, and for the first time in her life, she really wished she had a hero type like him—like Jake, rather—in her life. Practical, no nonsense, she’d never really felt she’d needed anyone. But now?

“Get her something to drink,” the man said quickly to the woman hovering near the door.

Alicia sighed. She really needed help. Then she felt a wave of depression hit all at once. How could she see Jake or anyone when she was a damn werewolf? Wouldn’t she want to do to him what Ferdinand did to her? Bite him? Change him? Make him live like she had to live? Her heart sinking into a pit of despair, she knew she couldn’t get in touch with Jake directly. Not now, not ever.

“Are you sure we can’t call someone for you?” the man asked as he helped her toward the restroom door.

“No, thanks.”

The woman who had sold her the photograph had stepped into the restroom now, too, with the picture wrapped in paper cradled in her arms. She pointedly looked at the envelope half-sticking out of Alicia’s purse.

“What about him?” the woman asked quietly, as if she thought Jake was the father of Alicia’s baby and they’d had a falling-out. The other woman must have told her what had happened.

Poor Jake. He was now thought to be the father of a nonexistent baby, and he was truly the dream lover of a woman who was part wolf.

“No,” Alicia said again, almost sounding desperate.

The man and women shared concerned, knowing looks.

The man continued to help Alicia out of the restroom, and she did really feel shaky from nearly being caught in the altogether as a wolf. He must have sensed her unsteadiness and held on tighter. When they left the restroom, the other female employee had a cell phone in one hand and a chilled bottle of water in the other, ready to call 9-1-1 probably, and everyone was looking a lot more worried than irritated about leaving work late.

That still bothered Alicia. She hated that she really had inconvenienced them. But Ferdinand was the one to blame for all this. Damn his black soul.

“Mary said you were trying to locate Jake Silver,” the man remarked.

“I gave her the envelope he left for her.” Mary pointed at the incriminating evidence in Alicia’s purse pocket, halfway exposed.