She stared at him, asleep in that chair. In sleep, he almost looked innocent. Yet he wasn’t innocent. Far from it. Because even in sleep he still had a smirk. Who smirked in their sleep?

He wore only a pair of jeans and nothing else. Since he’d graduated from the university seven years ago, Irene normally only saw the man in a tuxedo. Sometimes a casual dinner jacket. But half-naked except for jeans . . . yes, this was quite new.

And, if she were to be brutally honest—and when was she not brutally honest?—she’d have to admit the experience was not entirely unpleasant. He had an exceptional body. Perhaps a tad unnecessarily big but his muscles were lean and extremely well-defined.

His body was quite perfect, even by her standards. Long and powerful.

Glancing around the room and seeing that they were alone, Irene allowed her eyes to stray lower, wondering if he were big all over. Clearly he was. And, even more fascinating, it seemingly had a mind of its own. She watched as it grew before her eyes. Then it hit her—he hadn’t been erect in the first place. Well, exactly how big did that thing get, anyway? Was that normal, even by shifter standards? And why did she suddenly care?

“Uh . . . doc?”

Horrified but not willing to show it, Irene looked into Van Holtz’s face. And yes, the smirk was decidedly worse now.

“Looking for anything in particular there?”

“No,” she answered honestly, “just fascinated by the size. It seems inordinately large.”

Van Holtz shut his eyes. “By sheer will, I’m going to ignore you said that because . . . well . . . it’s killing me. And, instead”—he leaned forward in his chair, his eyes examining her body closely—“ask, how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been mauled by a wild animal.”

“You’re gonna be bragging about that for years, aren’t you?”

“Pardon?”

“How often does a full-human get to say they not only survived an attack by lions and hyenas but that they actually took out one of the hyenas?”

Irene grimaced. “I’d prefer not to . . .” She shook her head, slowly rolling onto her back, pulling the sheet with her to continue keeping her naked body somewhat covered. “Killing something or someone who was human at least part of the time is not a situation I’d run around bragging about, Van Holtz.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Based on what the staff and students say about me, I’m sure you thought I’d happily kill another being and mount them on my wall.”

“Haven’t you?”

“Only the students who dare cross me.”

The bed dipped and Irene slowly turned her head to focus on the man stretching out on the bed beside her. “What are youdoing?”

“Getting comfortable.”

She glanced at him, took in the way he lay on his side with his head propped up with one hand, and frowned. “Why?”

“Because I can.” He lifted the lone white sheet and peeked down the length of her naked body. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Irene frowned again while he stared under that sheet. “Am I now supposed to have sexual intercourse with you?”

The sheet dropped back into place and Van Holtz’s eyes slowly looked up to focus on her face. “Sorry?”

“Am I supposed to have sexual intercourse with you because you saved my life? Like a form of medieval payment for services rendered?”

Something in her voice stopped him from trying to snag another peek under that sheet and had him looking directly into her face. She wasn’t joking. Nor was she being insulting. She really had asked him if she had to have sex with him as a form of payment.

“Of course I don’t expect that.”

“Oh.”

He waited for more but more, apparently, was not forthcoming.

“Perhaps we should understand each other, Irene. I want you. I have for a long time. But I want to have sex with you because we’ll both enjoy it. Not because you owe me anything.”

“Oh. I see.” She looked up at him with those intense blue eyes and spoke as plainly as any woman ever had before. “The problem is, Van Holtz, I detest sexual intercourse. I don’t mean I don’t enjoy it. Or I’ve had bad experiences and the thought of it makes me uncomfortable. I mean, I detest it. I find the whole passing back and forth of bodily fluids repulsive. And I’m not talking merely semen. I mean sweat and saliva.” She grimaced and it clearly wasn’t forced. “The number of germs passing between two people during those moments would boggle your mind. Besides, I really hate sweating. And I hate being distracted. Because one should pay attention when involved in intercourse, I’ve found past partners noticed when I wasn’t and they were always so offended. Anyway, depending on who I’m with at the time, that could be anywhere from ten minutes to an hour where I’m forced to focus on the needs of one person and, to be quite honest, there are much more important things I should be doing.”

Van stared at the naked woman lying in his bed. “Do you like living like that?” he had to ask.

“Yes. I do. Personally, I don’t understand why people involve themselves in relationships. They’re complicated and often very unsatisfying. Then the only way to get rid of the person is through legal means.”

“Relationships are one thing. I agree with you there. But I’m talking about sex. Don’t you have . . . uh . . . needs?”