The Magical Christmas Cat

"You're such a cat."

"Want to see?" he asked.

"See what?"

"My cat."

Her eyes went wide. "Really?"

He yawned, every inch the indolent feline. "Hmm."

Without warning, color shimmered all around him, sparkles of light and shadow, beauty and eternity.

She held her breath until it ended. The leopard lying on her bed looked at her with familiar eyes.

Swallowing at her proximity to such a dangerous creature, she struggled up into a sitting position, sheet held to her breasts. The temptation to touch was blinding. She lifted a hesitant hand—it was one thing to know intellectually that this was Zach, quite another to believe it.

When she didn't touch, the leopard raised its head to butt at her hand. Shuddering, she gave in to temptation and stroked him. He relaxed, closing his eyes in bliss. It made her awe morph into delight. "I think I just got conned." But stroking him, adoring him, was no hardship.

When the shimmer came again, she went utterly still. A few moments later, her hand lay on the muscular back of a man so sexy, he made her heart trip simply looking at him.

"So?" he asked.

She snuggled up to him, positioning her body so that they lay face-to-face, her hand now on his shoulder. "You're gorgeous, and you know that."

For once, he didn't smile. "Is it too much to handle?"

"No." She frowned. "Did I give that impression?"

"Just checking." She got a smile this time, a slow, lazy thing that tugged at things low and deep in her.

"Some women like the idea of being with a changeling but find the reality harder to accept."

"Some women?" A prickly flare of jealousy.

His smile widened. "Not that I would know."

She felt her lips twitch. "Of course not, Mr. Innocent."

"Hey, you're the one who led me off the straight and narrow." He ran his hand down to her bottom in a possessive caress. "I seem to recall you demanding I do 'the licking thing' one more time."

Her body ignited to sensual life. Deciding to fight fire with fire, she said, "You never gave me my winnings yesterday."

Sensual mischief in his eyes. "Yes, I did. With interest. And then again."

"Cat." Wrapping her arms around him, she rubbed her nose affectionately against his. It felt natural, easy.

He made a sound of contentment and shifted until she was under him, skin-to-skin contact all over. It was sexual, but it was also something more. Touch for the sake of touch, cuddling because it felt good.

"How long does the affection last?" she asked half-seriously. Making love with him was so stunningly beautiful, but this kind of simple contact . . . it was somehow deeper, going beyond pleasure and into a kind of trust that left her breathless.

Zach kissed her cheek, her jaw, her chin. "Always.

Not touching is abnormal for us."

She remembered the easy affection she'd witnessed at the picnic. "I'm guessing that doesn't apply to strangers."

"No."

"That's good," she said, swallowing an unexpected pulse of hurt at the idea of being outside the circle of his pack. If she'd been his mate— She cut off that thought at once, more than a little panicked at the idea of being locked into a relationship that offered no escape . . . no matter if the love died. "I'm not easy with people I don't know well," she said to cover the sudden burst of fear.

"You're in charge of skin privileges, baby." He traced circles on her shoulder. "The pack will pick up the cues."

" 'Skin privileges'?"

"The right to touch." He kissed the corner of her mouth.

She wondered if she'd ever-get enough of this play.

"I guess you have total skin privileges then."

A sound of smug male pleasure. It made her laugh, he was so shameless about it. And that was when she knew. She was too much her mother's daughter. She'd love only once. And she'd love forever.

Zach was it.

For him, she'd break every rule, allow him into her home, into her very soul. For him, she'd jump into the abyss and worry about the bruises later. Because sometimes, there were no choices.

"Hey." His voice was a husky murmur. "What's the matter, Angel?"

She shook her head, glad that he wasn't Psy, that he couldn't read her mind. "Love me, Zach." "Always."

But she knew he hadn't understood what she'd asked, hadn't promised what she needed. It didn't matter. He was hers, if only for now, and she would treasure every moment of that joy. The pain could wait until after he was gone.

Chapter 10

A month after he'd first met Annie, Zach sat on one of the car-sized boulders scattered around Yosemite and wondered what the hell he was doing wrong. He'd spent every night since the day of the picnic with her.

She was fire in his arms, warm, beautiful, and loving . . . but she continued to withhold a part of herself.

Most men wouldn't have noticed. But he wasn't most men. Every time she waved off his offer to help her in some way, every time she pulled her independence around her like a shield, he noticed. It wounded the cat, confused the man. "Mercy, I can hear you."

A tall redhead jumped down from a branch a few feet in front of him. "Only because I let you."

He snorted. "You were making enough noise for a herd of elephants." He threw the sentinel a spare bottle of water.

"I didn't want to bruise your masculine ego by sneaking up," Mercy said, perching on a boulder opposite him. "Not when you already looked so pathetic."

"Gee, so thoughtful of you."

"I can be a right peach." She drank some water. "Let me guess— you've mated with the little teacher?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, puhleese," Mercy drawled. "As if you'd bring anyone but your mate to the Pack Circle."

"She's fighting the bond," he found himself saying.

"Why?"

"You're the female. You tell me."

"Hmm." Mercy capped the bottle and tapped it against her leg. "Did she say why?" He stared at her.

Mercy rolled her eyes. "You did tell her that she's your mate, didn't you?"

"She's a bit resistant to the idea of commitment."

That resistance frustrated the hell out of him, but he was trying to be patient. Not only did he care about her happiness, he wanted her to trust him enough to make the choice—even though there was only one answer he'd accept. "I don't think she'd react well to the whole 'till death really does us part' bit."

"So you're making the choice for her?" She raised an eyebrow. "Arrogant."

Anger flared. "I want to give her time to become comfortable with me."

"Is it working?"

"I thought so, but the bond hasn't snapped into being." The mating bond was an instinctive thing, but the female usually had to accept it in some way for it to go from possibility to truth. "It's tearing me up, Mercy." The leopard was lost, hurt. What was wrong with him that Annie didn't want him?

"Talk to her, you idiot." Mercy shook her head.

"Has it crossed your little male mind that maybe she's protecting herself in case you decide to indulge in some hot sex, then flick her off?"

He growled. "She knows I'd never do that. It's about the commitment—she's scared of trusting someone with her heart." He couldn't blame her, not after what he'd seen of her parents' marriage.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Mercy said, "but haven't you two been joined at the hip for the past month?

Pack grapevine says you've all but moved into her place."

"Yeah,so?"

"Geez, Zach, I thought you were smart." Trapping the bottle between her knees, she raised her hands to redo her ponytail. "Sounds to me like she's already committed to you."

She'd given him a key to her apartment, to the place that was her bolt-hole. His heart slammed against his ribs.

No, he thought, he couldn't have made that big a mistake. "But the bond—"

"Okay," Mercy interrupted. "Maybe you're right, and your Annie's going to freak about the mating, but let's say your amazing Psy mind-reading abilities are-wrong—"

He growled.

"—and she's ready to risk everything for you. What would keep her from taking the final step?" She raised an eyebrow. "You know the rep we have. Humans tend to think of leopard changelings as affectionate but casual."

"That's not it," he insisted. "I told her this was serious right at the start."

"Let me share a secret with you, Zach. Men have been telling women things for centuries. Then they've been breaking our hearts."

Zach's mind filled with the memory of Kimberly Kildaire's shattered face as Erik Kildaire walked away.

Promises, he thought, lots and lots of broken promises.

"Only way," Mercy continued, "for you to gain her trust, might be to forget the pride that seems to come embedded in the Y chromosome. You ready to wear your heart on your sleeve and hope she doesn't crush the life out of it?"

He met her gaze. "You got a streak of mean in you, Mercy."

"Thank you very much." Finishing off the water, she threw him the bottle. "I'd better head off—have to meet Lucas."

He watched her climb back up into the trees, her words beating at him. Had he really been that much of an idiot, thinking he knew what was going on in Annie's head while being so very wrong? More importantly, was he willing to swallow his need for dominance, for control, and put the most important decision of his life into her hands? What if she rejected him? The pain of the thought was paralyzing.

Annie finished putting away her things with eager hands. It was five on Friday, which meant she had the entire weekend to spend with Zach. He'd promised to show her some of the secret treasures of his forest, and she couldn't wait. Of course, she thought with a smile, even if he'd told her he wanted to watch the entertainment network all weekend, she'd have had the same reaction. She flat out adored being with him, wicked teasing and all. Especially since she'd gotten pretty good at teasing him back.