The next morning dawned bright and clear, but Stiles’s stomach twisted with a cocktail of nerves and illicit excitement as she prepared for her solo visit to Derek’s home. Eli had kissed her goodbye at the door, his hands lingering on her hips as he murmured, “It’s okay, baby. It’s just Dad—he’s family, and he’s the best. I’ve got that big meeting downtown, but call me if you need anything.” He’d smiled reassuringly, oblivious to the way her body had hummed with forbidden anticipation all night, her dreams filled with gloved hands and dark eyes. Stiles had nodded, forcing a smile, but as soon as he left, she’d chosen her outfit with a deliberate naughtiness that made her cheeks burn even in private.