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His molten gaze moved over her face slowly, drinking her in. He brought her hand up between them, so
that her palm skimmed over the muscles of his chest. Her fingers brushed his chin sending butterfly wings
brushing at the pit of her stomach as she felt his mouth moving against the back of her hand. His eyes
continued to hold her captive. Maggie was mesmerized, a hunted rabbit caught in the intensity of his
stare. He turned her hand over, opened her fingers, and, still holding her gaze, bent his head to scrape his
teeth gently in the center of her palm. His tongue swirled, a hot, moist flame, and his sculpted lips
completed the brand, pressing, firm yet velvet soft over the pulsing heat.
"I know you don't understand any of this yet, Maggie, and I thank you for your courage." His voice
wrapped her in intimacy. "I just want you to know I have the advantage of knowing about you, about
your life. I know about the time you fell off your bike and had to go to the hospital for stitches. I know
about you caring for your mother while she was so ill, coming back from college to stay by her side for
two months, nursing her yourself."
Maggie stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, tried to pull her hand away from his. He merely tugged
her closer. "Don't be afraid of who you are. I'm not. Of course I investigated; I couldn't afford to be
wrong. I know you've always loved the forest and the animals in it. So you see, I do know you. I know
what kind of woman you are."
Brandt turned away from her, walking once more, taking her with him, unable to look into her frightened
eyes. He kept her hand firmly in his. He had fallen for that tenderhearted young woman he had read so
much about. Like a drowning man, he had clung to every scrap of information he could ferret out about
her. His emotions were already involved, and each moment spent in her company or simply observing her
drew the net tighter around his heart. She didn't know him other than as a man who tricked her, brought
her to foreign soil, and attempted to seduce her into accepting him. He detested the fear and uncertainty
in her eyes.
Maggie bit down on her lower lip, a sharp bite to give her courage to spar with him. "Why do you do
that, Brandt? Deliberately keep me off balance? I know you brought me here, I just haven't figured out
your real motive. I don't have enough money to make it worth your while. I'm not beautiful or famous.
Why don't you just tell me the truth?"
"I have been telling you the truth. You aren't listening to the truth." There was no impatience in his voice.
He kept walking, veering slightly along a faint path.
Maggie could hear the continual roar of a large body of water. She glanced back in the direction they
had come and saw only forest, no path, no house. She was well and truly lost, dependent on Brandt to
return her home safely. Her fingers were tangled with his. She told herself she didn't want to bother with a
struggle in the heat and the humidity, but the truth was, she liked the feel of him strong and protective
beside her.
"I'm listening," she said, because she could feel the heat wave starting in the pit of her stomach, spreading
like a wildfire through her blood. "Tell me about the change." Something was happening deep inside of
her. Something she didn't understand or want. She tightened her fingers around his, holding on to the only
security she had while her body went up in flames. She didn't look at him, but stared into the trees ahead
of them, trying to ignore the sensations assaulting her.
"Let me finish the story, Maggie. The ritual of promise is a wedding of sorts. Two lost hearts bound
together as one. The story goes that cats have nine lives. The male is reborn remembering what came
before. He must find his mate. No other will do. He must recognize her and lay his claim before the onset
of the Han Vol Dan. Before the change overtakes her. The ritual of promise occurs when the two live in
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close proximity and the male recognizes the reborn female. Or, if the soul is new, when the male
recognizes his mate at an early age."
"How can he do that?"
His eyes moved over her again. Moody. Brooding. Dark with some hidden mystery. "The aura of the
woman or child calls to him, melds with his. The elders can see the two colors merge. The little girl was
recognized and promised in the ritual. But the poachers had their revenge. They had been tracking the
couple, trying to find their home, wanting to be rid of them. A very clever trap was set."
Maggie could feel the acceleration of her heart. Of his heart. She could hear them both pounding,
remembering, reliving the terror. Her mouth went dry and she shook her head. "Don't tell me any more. I
don't want to hear."
"Because you know. You were there when they came with their guns and their torches. When your
father woke your mother and bundled you up and put you in her arms. When he kissed you for the last
time and turned to fight the mob, to hold them back to give your mother a chance to save you. You
remember his change, the way his fur felt against your skin. And you remember your mother's sobs as
she wept and ran with you through the forest away from the village that was already being burned."
He turned up her hand, brought her knuckles to the warmth of his mouth. "I remember it vividly, every
detail, Maggie, because my mother died that night, too oh, not right away; she lingered for months
before her physical body gave up." He couldn't feign his sadness. It was as real as her own. She saw it in
his eyes, and his poet's heart wept.
She did remember the frightening, nightmare images a leopard leaping, snarling, a mass of teeth and
claws cutting a path while they ran with dizzying speed. She remembered her mother flinching as a shot
reverberated. Her mother ran several yards, staggered, recovered valiantly, and continued. Maggie
pressed a hand to her mouth. Memories? Were they real? Could her mother have run through the forest
in the dead of night, away from all she had known? Away from her husband and people? Run with a
terrible wound draining the life from her?
She dragged in her breath. "And she took me to Jayne. Jayne Odessa."
"A very wealthy woman who had never had children and had always wanted them. Who was your
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