"Then talk to me. Tell me who you are."

She lifted her hand to his face, traced the tiny lines

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around his mouth. "You tell me who you are, Rio. Let me know you before you ask questions of me. I see suffering in your face. You've seen betrayal, you know what it is. And you came here for a reason. Tell me what it is. Why do you have to live in this place?"

"I choose to live here, Rachael, I don't have to live here. There is a difference."

"You've been here for some time. Do Kim and Tama live far away from other people? Does Drake?"

"No, Kim and Tama live in the village. Most of the time if their people move, the entire village moves. They still have longhouses when they're traveling.

Drake lives near a village for our people."

"Who are your people, Rio? Why don't you want to be close to them?"

"I've always been happier on my own. I don't mind a solitary life."

Rachael smiled and snuggled deeper into her pillow. "You aren't willing to tell me anything at all about yourself. Even in friendship there has to be give-and- take, trust between two people. We don't have that between us."

"Then what do we have?" Rio knew she was right, but he didn't want to hear her say it. He wanted things to be different, but if he told her the things she wanted to know there was no chance for them.

"I'm so tired, Rio," Rachael said softly. "Can we do this tomorrow? I can't seem to stay awake no matter how hard I try. I think you keep putting something into that drink you're always telling me is so healthy."

She wanted to drop it. He recognized the signs. He was adept at avoiding topics he didn't want to discuss. And what was the point?

Rio lay listening to her breathing, his body so hard he felt that just one more brush against her skin might be the last straw. He would shatter into a million pieces. Sleeping on the floor away from her wouldn't stop it. Cold showers didn't help. The house was too small for the two of them to 144.

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share unless they were together, and sleeping in the bed next to her and not touching her was just plain impossible.

Intellectually he knew it was because she was close to the Han Vol Dan and she was affecting him with her ripe scent. He wanted to blame it on that, the age- old call of female to male, but in truth, he wanted her in so many other ways.

She made him happy and he didn't even know why. He didn't care why. He wanted her in his home. At his side. With him. It was fairly simple as he saw it.

Women. They always managed to complicate the simplest issue. He sat up, careful not to disturb her. He would get no sleep if he didn't slip out into the night and run. The farther and faster the better.

Rachael hoped she was dreaming. It wasn't a frightening nightmare, but it was disturbing. Not so much the images, but the idea of it all. She could see herself, stretching her body, arching her back, in the throes of s.e.xual need.

Not just a wanting-a craving, an obsession. The need was so strong she could think of nothing but finding Rio. Being with Rio. Rio's hands touching her, stroking her body, driving into her with wild abandon. There was heat and fire and still she wasn't satisfied. She could see her body rippling With pleasure, her body sleek and moist. Rio rolled over, pulling her on top of him, arid Rachael threw back her head, thrust her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in invitation as she rode him frantically. She turned her head to look back at the sleeping Rachael, her face contorting as fur rippled over her body.

Rachael shook her head, stirred drowsily, wriggled a little to find the warmth and rea.s.surance of Rio's body. He wasn't there. She turned over, careful of her injured leg. She was definitely alone in the bed. The house was dark, not unusual, Rio never lit a lamp, preferring to pad around the house barefoot, in the nude. He seemed to have such an affinity with the night, preferring that time to any other. Nothing in the shadows affected him or frightened him. He never really seemed to sleep deeply. The few times shewoke in the dark, he was already alert, the change in her breathing enough to awaken him.

She lifted her head and studied the room. The mosquito net hanging over the door swayed like a dancing ghost in the wind. The door was open. Rio had gone on one of his many midnight adventures. He always came back more relaxed, the tension gone from his body. He was usually covered in sweat and would walk softly over to the basin to wash. Rachael loved watching him. She should have felt guilty, a voyeur, but she didn't. She simply feasted her eyes on his body, watched the ripple of his roped muscles and appreciated the fact that he was so intensely male.

Something shoved at the mosquito netting. A large dark head thrust its way into the house. Rachael froze, her heart in her mouth. Fritz snarled, hissed and rose to back unsteadily toward Rachael. She reached put her hand to the little clouded leopard, touched the fur as he slunk beneath the bed, still hissing.

Rachael didn't take her gaze from the huge, heavily muscled animal pushing his way through the flimsy mosquito net into the house.

The leopard was the largest wild animal she'd ever encountered. It was a male, weighing close to two hundred pounds, pure muscle, exotic black fur from its head to the tip of its tail, its eyes a vivid yellow-green. The leopard swung its head this way and that, peering around the room, ignoring the small snarling cat as if it was beneath its dignity. It stepped fully into the house, the tail switching from side to side. It rubbed its shoulder against the chair and sink, all the while staring at Rachael with far too much intelligence in its eyes.

She moved her hand very slowly, bringing it into the bed, sliding it under the pillow to find the rea.s.suring metal of the gun. Curling her fingers around the grip she pulled it in slow motion toward her. Beneath the bed, Fritz snarled loudly. "Hush," she whispered, trying to keep her voice low so she didn't trigger the leopard into an attack.

To her amazement, the little cat went silent. The black 146.

leopard continued rubbing its body along the furniture, all the while staring at her. She lay still, unable to look away. As the animal approached her, Rachael forgot to bring the weapon up to aim. The animal didn't use a slow stalk, it simply padded over to her, rubbing the length of its body along the bed. It rubbed its head along her arm, the fur soft and unbelievably luxurious. Her breath caught in her throat. She had to fight an impulse to bury her fingers in the fur, to rub her face in the neck and shoulder of the animal.

The leopard began a slow systematic rub of her body with its head, chin and cheeks, rubbing down her shoulder and across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It stretched across the bed to rub her stomach and the junction between her legs, took its time rubbing over her good leg and, after sniffing her wounded leg, was careful as it rubbed its way back up her leg to her head.

The leopard's breath was warm against her skin as it nudged her shoulder, giving her the impression the animal wanted her to scratch it. The gun slipped from her hand to rest on the blanket and she sank her fingers into the thick fur. It was daring and nearly overwhelming, a wild and crazy impulse she couldn't control.

She traced the darker shadow of rosettes buried in the dense black fur with her fingertips. Tentatively, she began to scratch the leopard's ears and neck, became bold enough to scratch along its broad chest. She could see several scars in the fur, indicating the cat had been in more than one fight, but the animal was a magnificent specimen of its kind. Muscles ran like steel beneath the fur, wrapped around the body in every direction. She should have been terrified at being in such close proximity, but the night took on a surreal quality.

Up so close she could see the whiskers were very long, and were on the upper lips, cheeks, chin, over the eyes and even on the inside of the leopard's forelegs. The hairs were embedded in the tissue with nerve endings that transmitted

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continual tangible information much like a radar system. During an attack, the leopard could extend the whiskers much like a net in front of the mouth to help it a.s.sess the prey's body position in order to administer a lethal bite. Rachael hoped the continual rubbing against her was a signal for her to scratch harder and not that the animal was becoming aggressive.

Fritz stuck his nose out from under the bed and her heart pounded in fear for the small wounded cat. The larger leopard merely touched noses, rubbed the top of the clouded leopard's head with his own. Then it stretched languidly, sc.r.a.ped the floor around the bed and repeated its rubbing over Rachael's body with its head before padding across the room to the kitchen area. It stood on its hind feet and raked its claws continually down the wall, leaving long, deep grooves in the wood. Exactly like the other grooves. It dropped back to the floor, turned its head to look at her once more with its focused stare, then, unhurried, padded out of the house into the darkness.

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RACHAEL wiped the sweat from her eyes and stared at the claw marks on the wall.

She hadn't been dreaming. A huge leopard had been in the house, walking around as if it owned the place. It had looked at her with its eerie stare. The animal had rubbed up against the bed, against her skin, against her entire body, not once, but twice, against the furniture and had just stretched full length to rake its enormous claws down the kitchen wall, leaving behind telltale grooves embedded deep in the wood. She couldn't have imagined such a beast any more than she could imagine the claw marks.

"Just when you think it's safe to go back into the jungle," she whispered aloud, afraid if she spoke too loudly the cat would return. "Rio? Rio, where are you?"

The door was open to the night, the mosquito net blowing gently in the mild breeze. The rain was a soft fall in the distance. Rachael sat up, taking care not to jar her leg. She had more strength, but her leg was swollen and painful even with slight movement. Dragging on Rio's shirt, muttering as it snagged on her broken wrist, she threw back the

cover. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter, the noise loud in the stillness of the night.

With a little sigh, Rachael fished around for it, reaching with her fingertips, trying to spare her leg until she was forced to move. There was no sound, but she felt the impact of his eyes. At once she could breathe easier. Rachael looked up to find Rio's wide shoulders filling the doorway. She was used to the fact that he rarely wore clothes in the house. That his body was as hard as a rock. That there was something dangerous and different about him she couldn't quite put her finger on. But she would never get over the sure power of his eyes.

"Aside from the fact that you left the door open and a leopard decided to visit, you have to stop taking these midnight strolls/Hasn't anyone ever told you the forest can be dangerous at night?" Rachael curled her fingers into the blanket, making a fist, wishing she could jam it in her mouth and shut up for a change.

Could she sound any more ridiculous lecturing him about the dangers of the forest when he knew far better than she? It was just that she'd been so afraid and the relief of having him back safe and unharmed was overpowering.

Rio sauntered fully into the room, totally nude but as confident as if he were wearing a three-piece suit. "I'm not about to let anything happen to you, Rachael. I should have closed the door when you were alone in the house, but I was right outside." His gaze moved over her face, a moody, edgy examination.

"Were you-trying to get out of bed?"

She forced a soft laugh. "Rachael to the rescue. I was going to put the leopard in a choke hold if it attacked you."

He stared at her for a long moment before a slow smile spread across his face.

Her heart did a funny little flip.

"What a thought, Rachael. I have this visual of you wrestling with a leopard and it's enough to turn my hair

gray.

She loved his hair. s.h.a.ggy and untamed but shiny clean, ISO.

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like silk. "Rio, put some clothes on. Honestly, you're making life very difficult for me."

"Because I'm always in a state of arousal around you?" His words were low, velvet soft. The impact was physical. Her body simply dissolved into liquid heat.

She couldn't help but see him-unashamed, natural, alone. He looked so alone standing there like a Greek G.o.d, a statue of the perfect male, with roped muscles and penetrating eyes and a sinful mouth. She wanted to be feeling absolute l.u.s.t. Nothing else, just good old-fashioned l.u.s.t. A fling that would burn hot and burn out leaving only ashes and good wishes and freedom behind. It didn't help that she'd been dreaming strange, pa.s.sionate dreams about making wild love with him.

How did she know she could drive him mad by simply running her fingertips up his thigh? How did she know his eyes would change, gleam like bright emeralds, hot and bright, consuming her with desire? She had seen tears in his eyes. She had heard his voice husky with pa.s.sion. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, to free herself from the strange memories that were hers ... yet not hers.