Leone perched on the edge of the couch as Amy joined her with their drinks.

"Here."

"Thanks." Leone took an appreciative sip. "Mmm, good cognac." They settled back and watched the flames steadily grow. It was a strangely restful end to an emotionally tense evening.

"So," Leone finally broke through her reverie, "can I see the rest of the Italian photos?"

Amy looked over in surprise. "There are hundreds of them."

Leone shrugged. "I'd love to look at them. It would be great to see even a few and have a blow-by-blow commentary." With the fire warming the room and the nightcap warming her belly, she was loath to leave the little cabin and prepared to try every ploy possible to prolong her time there. She knew Amy had a weakness. Like every artist, she liked to share imagery and discuss ideas. Leone shamelessly played on this now. "Especially the ones about Italian architecture?" She raised her eyebrows in question. "I love soffits and spandrels." Soffits and spandrels were the only architectural terms Leone knew, apart from door. But it was worth a try.

"Mmm." Amy squinted at her suspiciously, but Leone could see her wavering.

* 34 *

"Okay." Amy caved. "We can look at some, but there are too many photos for one sitting. I'll show you Florence and Sorrento.

You've already seen the best of the Venice ones." She stood to fetch her laptop.

"What was your favorite city?" Leone asked.

"Oh, that's hard as they were all so special in different ways. But if I had to choose I'd say Sorrento. It was absolutely beautiful."

Amy came back and settled in beside Leone, flicking on the computer. As the light bounced off the screen onto their faces Leone took the opportunity to scoot a little closer until her shoulder and thigh pressed along the length of Amy's. At first Amy stiffened, but stealing a look out of the side of her eye she could see all Leone's concentration focused on the first of her photographs. She decided she was being far too paranoid and forced herself to relax. Although Leone had annoyed her repeatedly tonight, there had been nothing sexually suggestive in her behavior. Leone was just clumsy around Amy's boundaries. It was something Amy would correct later; she had no energy left for another round of "back off" tonight. As she fully intended to avoid Leone while she did her fieldwork, there would be even less opportunity for Amy to feel this bugged.

Leone felt the slight shift in the Amy's muscles; a sneak peek out of the corner of her eye checked Amy's profile and saw that her physical closeness had been deemed acceptable. She smiled encouragingly at the screen without actually focusing on it; all her attention was on the parts of her body pressing up against Amy's warmth.

"Okay." Amy found her starting point. "The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. Wait 'til you see the spandrels on this baby."

For the next twenty minutes Amy rattled through her slideshow with Leone making informed comments like, "Wow, so that's Vesuvius?" and "Aren't the streets narrow?" and "Look at that donkey with the hat." Until- "Who's that?"

"That's my friend Katherine. She went on vacation with me,"

Amy explained.

"Friend?"

* 35 *

"Yes."

"A friend you go on vacation with?"

"Yes, sort of." Amy pulled up another album.

"Sort of?"

"Mmm."

This was greeted in cold silence as the screen slid through another few frames of Katherine doing this and that, and standing here and there, in and around Sorrento-much to Leone's displeasure.

"I didn't see her in Florence?" Leone tried to sound casual.

"No, she went home before then. I traveled there by myself,"

Amy murmured, concentrating on her next selection.

"Oh, so you broke up?"

"Huh?"

"Went separate ways, I mean...not broke up. Traveled...

separate ways. Apart. Parted."

"What are you babbling about? Katherine only had a week's holiday."

"Pity," Leone said flatly, glaring at the digital Katherine. Just then the battery light flashed and a warning message displayed.

"That will have to do until I recharge." Amy snapped shut the laptop and set it to one side. She leaned back into her seat to find Leone had not moved an inch; they were still co-joined along shoulder, arm, and thigh, squeezed into one-third of the entire couch length.

"So...do you think Katherine will miss you while you're over here?" Leone asked, out of the blue.

"What? She can e-mail me, or telephone if she needs to. Look, I'm tired and I need to get to bed." Amy wriggled out of her cramped corner onto her feet, signaling the end of the evening. Leone sat on for a moment, unwilling to move.

"Good night, Leone," Amy said bluntly, prompting Leone to reluctantly stand.

She managed a polite reply. "Good night, Amy. Thanks for the nightcap and the photo show." A look of consideration crossed her face before she suddenly reached out and swamped Amy in a good-bye bear hug.

* 36 *

It took several seconds for Amy's benumbed mind to register what the hell was happening. Leone had moved with the speed of a cobra, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her into her chest. Amy's synapses exploded with a million alarms, alerts, and klaxons as her nose was buried in Leone's sweatshirt and the arms circling her squeezed the air out of her lungs. Then Leone's hands began to roam across her back, the broad flat of her palms brushing and circling the planes of Amy's ribs and shoulders, tracing her spine, hesitating just above the flare of her hips.

Leone breathed her in, her hair, her skin. She adored this scent.

It had been so long, so achingly long since she had last held Amy. So she just held on, breathing her, stroking her, memorizing by touch.

Greedy, because she knew it would all be over in a microsecond.

The moment Amy recovered from her surprise enough to push her away, she would have to let go.

Flustered, Amy grabbed Leone by the upper arms and stepped back out of range. The ferocity of Leone's hug scared her. It stirred up feelings she was not prepared to look at yet-if ever. Leone gazed down at her, eyes black and intense with unspoken questions.

Amy felt blindsided, fooled. Right up until Leone had lunged, Amy had no inkling there was any emotional residue in Leone aside from deliberately annoying her. But now she could feel it, an undercurrent of desire as strong and solid as the floor she stood on, as the walls surrounding her, as the heartbeat she'd been crushed against. And she didn't know what to do, where to place it, what to think. She only knew she needed to protect herself, and immediately.

"Stop grabbing at me. We're not teenagers anymore," Amy snapped angrily, sounding harsher than intended in her struggle to regain control. "Look, Leone, I don't know what weird nonsense you have in your head about us, but forget it. Okay?"

"It was just a good-night hug," Leone bit back, her tan cheeks bloomed with heat, eyes flashing defensively.

"It was a good-night grope, and you know it." Amy was not letting her get away with anything. "I'm here to work on the almanac and then spend time with Connie. You don't figure in my plans. So go. Just go. Go on, get out of here. Go."

* 37 *

She was too angry and embarrassed to look Leone in the face as she ushered her toward the door.

Reluctantly, Leone let herself be scooted along. Every molecule of her body screamed at her to gather Amy up and hold on to her forever. That this was all wrong. But she accepted she'd moved too fast and overstepped the mark. Now she backpedaled onto the porch where Amy quickly closed the door with a terse good night.

v Shivering with errant emotion and frustration, Leone stepped onto the trail and headed back to the Garoul compound. At least she had managed to cover as much of Amy as possible before being swatted off. Leone's scent now clung to her. It might help.

When she entered the clearing all was quiet. The celebrations had ended early, as tomorrow the hunting would begin in earnest.

In one bound she mounted the steps to her mother's porch and sat heavily on a wooden chair. She struck a match and shuffled through the candle stubs on the table, lighting only the green ones. Then she sat back and contemplated the moon. In a few days it would be heavy and full.

Leone listened to the soft shift of leaves in the night air. Beyond that she could hear the sounds of the forest waking, the rustling of undergrowth as small nocturnal creatures scurried about their activities. Deeper still she could make out the movements of their hunters, the pad of paw, the sweep of wings. Her ear caught the soft calls of night.

Scent was stronger as well; the richness of earth, sap, and bark all sang out to her. Before her the warming scents of myrtle and verbena began to waft up from the candles. Next came the subtler musk undertones released by the heat of the flame. But best of all, on the flesh of her palms, brushed across her lips, cheek, and chin was the smell of Amy. Leone was saturated with her. Her scent, her heat-her woman and mate. She looked deep into flickering candles, the molten wax puddling in green pools at their base.

"Amy Amelia Fortune." She breathed her wish into the flame.

* 38 *

chapteR FouR.

Birdsong. Amy opened her eyes to delightful birdsong.

Home. She smiled up at the wooden beams above the sleeping platform and stretched luxuriously. Home sweet home sweet home. God, how I've missed waking up to Little Dip birdsong.

Her energy levels skyrocketed to the top of her skull and burst right through it. With a surge of momentum she kicked back the blankets and started her day.

She took a light breakfast of muesli and coffee out to the small bench table on the porch where she sat soaking up the early morning sunlight and forest greenery, excited to be back, savoring her first morning.

Every school vacation she could ever remember had been spent at Connie's cabin. The whole valley had been her adventure park.

Her Treasure Island and Neverland all rolled into one. With the other young Garouls she had fought pirates, shot robbers, hunted pretend bears and tigers, and rescued princesses all summer long.

Well, okay, so she'd always been the princess, tied to a tree yowling for a hero. And of course, the hero had always been Leone. None of the others ever managed to get there to save her quick enough.

It was always Leone who leapt into the center of the evil villain's den; the evil villain was always played by cousin Andre. They would clash wooden swords or shoot water pistols or do kung fu, whatever the favorite weapon of the week was, until finally Andre would lie writhing in theatrical death throes. Then Leone would free her princess and drag her away by the hand back to their secret * 39 *

hidey-hole. She smiled at her drift back to childhood games. Today, walking through the woods would be like a trip back in time.

Amy cleared up her breakfast dishes and was soon stuffing her backpack with the makings of a little picnic. This was a workday.

She would hike down to a bend in the river where she knew one of her target plants grew and get a start on her inset work.

As an afterthought she had grabbed Connie's rod and fishing box, deciding an entire day by the water would not be complete without a little fly fishing and maybe a nice fat trout for the grill. If she still had the knack?

All packed and ready, Amy paused on the top porch step to draw in a deep lungful of clean mountain air, then tucking a wayward corkscrew of hair behind her ear she stepped off onto the hard-packed dirt track. The shoulder straps of her backpack were once more shrugged into position and she checked the camera slung around her neck. In less than two minutes the forest trail had swallowed her.

With a cheerful step she headed for the Silverthread, the slow, meandering river that wove through the heart of the valley. It was going to be an exceptionally warm day for the time of year. Even at this early hour she could feel it on her skin, warming her bones as she moved in and out of the tree shadows. Her smile grew wider as she looked out for that first glimmer of silver water peeping through the trees.

Oplopanax horridus, or devil's club to the layman, was a fantastic medicinal plant to the initiated. As kids racing around the forest wrapped up in one game or another, it had always been one to avoid, its sharp thorns an irritant to tender skin. Amy grinned as she remembered the vile tea infused from its bark forced on all the children at the first sign of a sniff or cough. Her boots crunched along the trail to where she hoped devil's club still grew. It was set back a little from the river in a moist and shady patch, ideal conditions for it. And if she had remembered right she'd be only half a mile from one of Connie's favorite steelhead fishing holes.

v * 40 *

Leone stood and stretched. She was cramped from falling asleep in the porch chair. She blinked and noted her green candles had all burned down and sputtered out. That was good.

With a lazy scratch to her sides she went indoors and headed for the shower. After she had washed and changed she'd head back up to Amy's and sort out her schedule for the day. Tell her what parts of the valley were out of bounds, and try to smooth some of the feathers she had ruffled last night. Yes, she had a fine line to walk, but Amy was under her care whether she liked it or not. As far as Leone was concerned she was supervising Amy's visit, and she intended to take full advantage of her position to manipulate any romantic odds in her favor.

Jori was on his porch sipping coffee, heels hitched on the rail, looking perfectly at ease with the world when Leone passed by on her way to Amy's.

"Hey, Leone," he called. She glanced up and he raised a coffee cup along with his eyebrows in silent offer. Leone did a ninety-degree turn and headed purposefully toward him. He had some explaining to do.

As she approached he eased upright in his seat, aware she was not targeting the coffee but him. His feet were planted on the floor, and he was sitting bolt upright by the time she reached the porch.

"What's up, sis?" he asked.

"Who the hell is Katherine?" Leone demanded.

v Amy snapped shut her watercolor pan and looked over her loose-leaf sketches. She had drawn about thirty different plant parts she especially wanted to concentrate on. After she'd finished her detailed pencil drawings she had gone back in with her watercolors, mixing the colors as accurately as possible and applying tonal washes onto each sketch. Her swatch key on the edge of the page gave the tonal code for each mix. Together with her photos she could balance her paint palette back at Connie's studio. Satisfied with her early morning work, Amy stashed away her sketch block and camera. Her * 41 *

stomach was rumbling with hunger and it felt like the perfect time to head on down to the river. She'd find a nice flat rock, open her coffee flask, and treat herself to a cheese sandwich.

Amy was thrilled when her rusty navigation brought her out not ten yards from Connie's fishing spot. It lay midway between two lazy river bends where the water ran a little slower and shallower.

A platform of wide stepping-stones cut across the riverbed. The largest was as big as a queen-sized bed and had in turn been a pirate ship, a whitewater raft, and a treasure island in her childhood games.

It was a magnificent rock for all sorts of reasons. Close by, deep, cool pools were tucked in under the bank side where steelhead trout rested and fed. Connie had taught her to stand high and dry on this huge, flat stone and wait patiently for hours, casting her line over and over, waiting for that one fish to see her fly and leap. Then the hunter became the prey, and sport and supper were reeled in as one. Amy sat on the riverbank munching her sandwich, scanning the surface for telltales to its underwater secrets, deciding where she would position herself and where she would cast. She brushed the crumbs off her fingers onto the legs of her jeans and flipped open Connie's tackle box.

Hmm. She looked thoughtfully at the flies pinned in colorful, feathery rows. Chronimid number 14. Let's try the red one. If that sucks we can go for the green.

Already her stomach was fluttering with excitement.

v Leone's long strides ate up the trail to Connie's cabin. She was much more satisfied with life now that Jori had assured her that the English girl in Amy's photos was her housemate and nothing more. In fact, he confirmed there was no love interest whatsoever on Amy's current horizon. That was all Leone needed to know for the sun to shine, the birds to sing, and the world to turn in total harmony.

Much more relaxed now, she looked forward to spending the day with Amy.

* 42 *

"Yo, Amy?" Leone rata-tat-tatted on the porch post as she cleared the steps in one bound. "Wake-up call."

Without hesitating she pushed at the door. It swung open. She'd have to get Amy into the habit of locking it. That would be a standoff in itself. It seemed Amy was still as obstinate as ever, always ready to butt heads over the least little thing. Leone stepped inside and immediately noticed how quiet it was.