Tasting the piquancy of it on his tongue, he decided he liked it. "All alone with a big, bad cat who's rethinking his policy on biting."

Arousal colored the air again, and he sucked in a breath to contain his most primal instincts. "Look ahead," he said, voice husky.

"Oh!" Her eyes went huge. "It's a buck," she whispered, as if afraid the animal would hear her. "His antlers are huge."

Zach slowed the vehicle to a crawl, but the buck caught his scent and shot off into the trees. "Sorry.

They tend to scatter the instant they smell leopard. It's why I look after the predators—it's hard for me to check data on the nonpredatories."

"They know they're prey." She looked at him. "Do you hunt them?"

"When the cat needs it, yes." He glanced at her.

"Can you handle knowing that?"

"I teach a lot of little cats," she reminded him in a prim, schoolteacher voice. "I might not be an expert on changeling behavior, but I've picked up enough to know that when in animal form, you behave according to the needs of the animal."

He couldn't help himself. He turned and snapped his teeth at her, making her jump. When he began to chuckle, her eyes narrowed. "You're as bad as Bryan.

He does that to Katie all the time."

"Odds on, he has a crush on her."

Her lips twitched. "That's what I think, too. Was the fight about Katie?"

"Sneaky, Ms. Kildaire, but I'm sworn to secrecy."

Laughing at the face she made, he reached over to tug at her pony tail. "You up to a small hike?"

Shadows swept across her face. "You don't think I can do it?"

He parked the vehicle off to the side of the track and turned. "I don't know your limits yet," he told her honestly. "That's why I'm asking."

She colored. "Sorry. I'm a bit touchy on the whole subject."

He shrugged. "If I think you can't do something, I'll make sure you're not doing it." Protecting the vulnerable was instinct. Protecting Annie would probably become an obsession.

"You'll make sure I'm not doing it?" The arch sound of a human female metaphorically flexing her claws.

"Definitely." He held her gaze. "I'm flexible, little cat, but I'm not a pushover."

Her arousal spiked at his words, but so did her anger. "As if I ever believed that."

"Annie, you're used to academic types who probably let you walk all over them."

"Hold on," she began, eyes snapping with temper.

God, she was pretty. He reached forward while she was distracted, gripped her chin. And kissed her.

Chapter 6

She was softer than he'd imagined, more luscious than anything he'd ever experienced. Cat and man both purred inwardly, and when her lips parted on a gasp, he swept inside to taste her. Sweet and tart, innocent and woman, she was his own personal brand of intoxication.

He bit her lower lip, sucked on it, let her gasp in another breath before kissing her again. "Mmm." It was a sound of sheer pleasure as he indulged his need to touch this woman. Leopard changelings were tactile as a rule—something that translated into sensual affection in a relationship. It didn't always have to lead to sex. Sometimes it was just about the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact.

When he drew back, her lips were a little swollen, her pupils dilated. He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip and tried to temper his escalating need. She wasn't ready, not yet. As he'd learned this morning, her soft exterior hid a fierce core of independence—the instant she learned what he really wanted, she'd stop playing with him.

And that was simply not acceptable. "You know how to kiss a man, Angel." He dropped his gaze to the rise and fall of her generous breasts. The temptation to caress them was so wrenching, he took his hand off her chin and thrust it through his hair. "About that hike . . . ?"

She gave a jerky nod. "I can walk."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It won't."

Frowning, he grabbed her chin again and this time, he wasn't playing. "I mean it, Annie. I need to be able to trust you. I'm giving you that. You give me honesty. That's fair."

Her expression shifted again, a true smile curving over her lips. "I will, I promise. It'll probably ache some, but that's normal. If it gets any worse, I'll tell you."

He wanted to kiss her again but knew full well that if he didn't get them out of the car quick smart, he'd end up taking her right there—like some randy juvenile in his parents' car. "Let's go." Grabbing her little pack, he thrust his own bottle of water inside and opened the door.

She met him a few feet from the vehicle, her fluffy yellow jacket a dash of pure summer. "I know," she said, when his eyes landed on her, "I look like a baby duck."

Not bothering with a coat himself, he took her hand. "No. I like it." Her hand was small, but not weak in his. "It suits you." Pretty and bright and sunny, that was his Annie.

They walked in silence for a while, and he felt his beast sigh in pleasure. The forest was home, and it called to both parts of his soul. But today, he had a new reason for happiness—Annie. "You're in shape," he said after a while.

"Nowhere close to you." She made a rueful face. "I know you're keeping your stride shorter for me."

He hadn't even noticed, the act had been so natural. "Of course," he said matter-of-factly. "How would I have my wicked way with you if I left you in my dust?"

Her smile was startled, but it grew until the leopard batted at its warmth, utterly captivated. "I exercise," she said. "I have to, or the leg will freeze up."

"Every day?"

She nodded. "It's a habit now." Looking up at the trail as it wound its way into the forest she took a deep breath. "It's so beautiful here."

"Yeah." He watched her face suffuse with joy and felt the razor-sharp bite of envy. The cat really wasn't good at sharing. Neither was the man—he wanted to be the one to put that look of delight on her face. Soon, he promised himself.

She glanced at him, smile changing into a very feminine look of realization. "Zach." Her lips parted.

It was all the invitation he needed. Dipping his head, he claimed another bold kiss, curving his hand around the silken warmth of her neck. When her hands came to rest on his chest, the cat stretched out in pleasure within him. He wanted those hands on his bare skin, his hunger for her so extreme it would make her bolt if she knew about it.

That thought in mind, he pulled on the reins. Even so, he couldn't keep from nipping at her lip.

Her eyes widened even as her hands clenched on his chest. "You only had one forfeit."

He felt his mouth curve. "Put it on my account," he said without an ounce of repentance.

She laughed, and he knew that today was going to be one of the best days of his life.

Several hours later, Annie sighed and rested her head back against the seat as Zach drove them to the Pack Circle. "That was wonderful. Thank you." "You fit here," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual playfulness. "The age of the trees, the immensity of the forest, it doesn't scare you."

"It makes me feel free," she admitted. "Out here, no one's watching, waiting for me to stumble." She wondered how she'd come to trust him so quickly—quickly enough to reveal a vulnerability she kept hidden from even her closest friends.

It scared her a little, the intensity of the emotions growing in her heart. She tried to tell herself it was nothing but a silly crush, but all she could think of was the way his kisses had tugged at her soul. All day long he'd stolen them, until her lips remembered the shape of his, and her breasts ached for his touch.

Swallowing, she attempted to redirect her thoughts.

"The Pack Circle's usually kept secret."

"We don't take strangers there" he acknowledged.

"Only those we trust to honor our faith."

Her heart warmed from the inside out. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet. Wait till you meet the pack—they're a nosy bunch."

Nerves snapped to full wakefulness as Zach parked his vehicle behind several others and turned to run his knuckles over her cheek. "Don't be nervous."

"How do you know—"

"I can smell the change in your scent."

She was still sitting there, mind awash with the implications of what he'd said, when he walked around and opened her door. "Come on, Angel. Let's go face the masses."

She got out but didn't take his hand. "You can smell the changes in my body?" She watched him reach in back for the picnic basket.

"Yes." Basket in hand, he tugged her hand from where she'd wrapped her arms around herself. "Does that bother you?" A direct gaze.

She saw no flirtation in those eyes for the first time in hours. "A little," she admitted.

"You'll get used to it." He said that as if it was inevitable.

She wasn't sure. Privacy was a big deal for her—she'd spent almost a year in the hospital, only to go home to her mother's constant hovering. Those experiences had combined to make her zealous about guarding her personal space, and what was more personal, more private, than her body itself?

Zach glanced at her as they walked past the other cars. "It's natural to us," he said. "We don't tend to notice a particular scent unless it's something that matters."

"But other people will know," she said, her stomach in knots. She could accept her hunger for Zach, accept that he knew, but to have everyone else be aware of it, too?

Zach raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, the tenderness undoing her. He was, she realized, far more a threat to her than she'd initially thought. If she wasn't careful, Zach Quinn would steal her heart and leave her with nothing, her worst nightmare come to life. But even knowing that, she couldn't help moving closer when he tugged at her.