"He's run away," she answered. "I was trying to make my way to your wagon in order to fetch my valise."

"So, you are leaving?"

She had no choice in the matter. She'd paid for the privilege of sharing his wagon until nightfall, and night had fallen. "Yes. I am leaving."

He took her arm and guided her toward his wagon. "Best you go now while most of the patrons are still gawking at the sights and having their fortunes told."

"That's what I thought, too," she said. "Now I'm not so certain I want to make my way to the inn alone."

"No, I will escort you," he assured her.

"You are a noble man beneath the skin," she teased. "Even if you refuse to act the part."

"You have no idea what I am beneath the skin. But I won't see you molested."

They reached the wagon and Elise scrambled inside. She grabbed her valise; then they went off into the night, toward the muted glow of the inn.

CHAPTER 8.

As they walked, she said, "Must you stick your head inside of Raja's mouth? You nearly took ten years off my life."

Sterling chuckled. "You didn't find my performance thrilling?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "But really, Sterling, you should be more careful. The tiger attacked you tonight!" She felt his regard and asked, "What?"

"It's been a long while since anyone has fussed over me, and Raja attacking me is part of the performance. He loves to wrestle."

"Oh," she sighed. "You could have told me. I was frightened for you."

"It's been a long while since anyone cared what might happen to me, too. It's... nice."

A rush of pleasure washed over Elise. It had been a long time since she'd been allowed to fuss over or care about anyone. But Sterling was not the proper man to bestow her feelings upon. They were ill suited for each other... she supposed as were her mother and father. Of course Elise had closed a considerable amount of distance between their stations when she ran away from her uncle. She kept forgetting that she was now free to become anyone, or anything, she wished to become.

They reached the inn. Saying good-bye was more difficult than Elise had imagined. She suddenly felt at a loss for words. "Thank you for all you've done on my behalf," she blurted. "I wish you a happy life."

He reached out and brushed the stray curl that forever crept across her forehead. "And I hope you find what you're looking for."

For a dreadful moment, tears burned her eyes, and she feared she would embarrass herself. "Good-bye then." Elise turned away, only to find herself wheeled about and in his arms the next instant.

His lips found hers. She opened her mouth beneath his. Their tongues touched, danced together, spreading delicious heat through her chilled bones. She explored his mouth, the taste and depth of him, uncaring that her actions were bold. She would never see him again.

He made a low sound in his throat; then she felt the rough wood of the inn cutting into her back. She hardly noticed the discomfort, for the tight press of their bodies wiped logical thought from her mind. She burned for him, ached to feel more than his mouth fused with hers. What would it be like to lie with him? Skin against skin?

Her thoughts frightened her, along with the feelings he stirred. Primitive desires that she had never experienced. Her life had been a sheltered one. If her uncle hadn't been generous with his affections, he'd been overly protective of her virtue. He never allowed her in a man's company without a proper chaperone. Elise hadn't been so much as kissed before, and here she was, rubbing up against a man she hardly knew, like one of his great cats, begging to be stroked.

His hand closed over her breast; then his fingers brushed her sensitive nipple through the fabric. She moaned against his lips, hungry for more. As if he knew her needs, he stroked the other breast in kind, the friction of his fingers against her nipples sweet torture. His hand strayed to the top fastenings of her gown. He suddenly broke from her.

"Go inside," he commanded. "Go inside before I forget myself and drag you back to my wagon, toss you upon my cot, and make love to you as if there is no tomorrow."

If it was a threat, she did not respond correctly. Instead of her being frightened, all manner of indecent images suddenly took shape within her mind: images of tangled limbs and glorious golden naked skin. The night air clashed with her heat-flushed body and made her shiver.

"You should be afraid," he misinterpreted her response. "Now go inside while I still have the conscience to allow you to escape with your innocence."

He turned and walked away from her, which didn't leave Elise with many options. Now that her head had cleared, she understood how foolish it would be to run after him. Not to mention degrading. She imagined he was well used to women dogging his heels. The memory of the women sighing over him earlier brought reason when her body wanted to make a fool of her.

Shaken, Elise slipped inside of the inn. Thankfully, there were few patrons eating in the common room or partaking of spirits. Two men stood across the room, one with his back to her and the other studying a ledger. She assumed the man with the ledger was the proprietor. Something about the other man struck her as familiar, even though he wore a long cloak and high-crowned beaver that hid him from her. As if the proprietor felt her regard, he glanced up. He immediately frowned.

"You're not welcome in here!" he shouted across the room. "Take your thieving ways back to your camp!"

She'd forgotten that her disguise would jeopardize her chances of securing a room for the night. Elise supposed coin might sway the proprietor. The man who stood with his back to her started to turn. She caught a view of his profile. Her heart jumped up her throat. The man was her uncle.

Wheeling around, Elise scrambled back through the inn door. Had he seen her? She hoped that by the time his head had turned, all he'd seen was her backside rushing through the door. Her heart pounded wildly. Fear gripped her insides and twisted. Elise ran in the direction of the caravan wagons. The torches were still lit at Sarah's wagon, which greatly aided her sense of direction.

Seeing her uncle had been a shock and a reminder of how badly she wanted to escape. She might feel a tug of conscience had she believed for one moment that he searched for her out of fear for her safety, but she knew what drove him: the bride's price from Stoneham.

When she reached Sterling's wagon, Elise didn't pause to knock. She flung herself inside and pressed her back against the door, gasping for breath. Sterling stood poised over his washbasin, his face dripping. He grabbed a cloth and blotted the moisture away.

"Forget something?"

What could she say? If she told him the truth, he might try to sway her to return to London with her uncle. Or worse, he might inform her uncle of her whereabouts, thinking he did the right thing on her behalf. Elise had no choice in what she must do, and tonight, hadn't she been caught up with the performances? Hadn't a small part of her secretly longed to be a part of the troupe, to belong... somewhere?

"I've changed my mind," she answered. "I will dance."

Sterling bit back a groan. Although part of him had not been happy to see her go, the rational part had assured him that her leaving was for the best. The best for him, leastwise. He had feelings for Elise. Feelings that might become dangerous were he to allow them full rein. Better her temptation had been taken from him.

"It would be wiser for you to follow a different plan," he advised.

Her chin lifted. "We had an agreement. Will you go back on your word?"

Yes! the rational side of him mentally shouted. What was his word compared to his heart? What was honor compared to a curse that would turn him from a man into a beast?

"And you would stay?" he asked. "Even after tonight? Even knowing that I want you? Even knowing that you are not safe with me?"

Her cheeks flamed within the soft lantern light. She chewed her full bottom lip, then answered, "Better you than the murderer my uncle would sell me to for the sake of lining his pockets. You have more honor than you will admit. I am not afraid of you. Only of the strange emotions that you stir within me."

He turned his back on her to keep from crushing her in his arms. She was so trusting, so honest, to admit that she felt stirrings of desire for him. If the man her uncle insisted she wed was truly as bad as Elise said, Sterling could not allow her to be forced into the marriage. He would not allow any man the right to abuse her. But she was not safe with him; he was not safe with her. What could he do?

"Please," she whispered. "Take pity on me. I promise to do as I've agreed, and cause you little hardship until we reach Liverpool."

How could he refuse her? At least he would know that she had reached her aunt safely. Everything inside of him cautioned him that allowing Elise to stay would be a grave mistake.

"All right," he agreed, turning to face her. "You may stay." When her eyes filled with tears and she took a step toward him, he lifted a hand. "But things must be different between us."

She drew up short. "Different?" Elise moistened her tempting lips. "Are you suggesting... that is, are you demanding that I-"

"I'm demanding that you keep your distance," he cut her off. "I am not the man you believe me to be, Elise. I am not honorable or trustworthy. You must think the worst of me and act accordingly. Understand?"

A frown settled over her mouth. "Of course. I would hate to become bothersome to you." Fire had leaped to life within her eyes. "I assure you, regardless of what you obviously believe about yourself, you are not irresistible."

He nearly smiled. This was serious business, however, and Sterling would allow Elise the sanctuary of the caravan, and his wagon, but he could not allow her inside of his heart.

"We will be off again come morning. We'd better both get some sleep."

She glanced at the cot. "Am I to still use the bed, or would you prefer that I sleep on the floor?"

"Take the bed." He turned toward the door. "I'll check on the cats before I turn in."

"About the cats." Elise's brow furrowed. "You didn't have Raja with you earlier tonight, I mean, when the man grabbed me and you intervened?"

"Of course I wouldn't have a tiger with me running loose while the camp was filled with patrons from the inn. Why do you ask?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing, I suppose. I heard growling, animal growling, and it sounded so close to where I stood."

An uneasy feeling settled over Sterling. "Sound carries in the night. I'm sure you did hear Raja complaining, but he was in his cage."

"That would be the logical explanation," she responded. "Good night."

Sterling left her. Outside, he inhaled deeply of the crisp night air. The moon above looked huge against the night sky. He stared at it for a long time, helpless to look away. Growling? He'd been beyond anger when he saw the drunken lout trying to molest Elise. Sterling recalled thinking he'd like to rip the man's throat out... with his teeth. Had it begun then? Was the curse upon him? No, Sterling assured himself. He did not love Elise but was merely infatuated with her.

What he wanted to give Elise was still a long way from his heart. Desire, lust, he had suffered those feelings for women before, and he had remained safe from the Wulf curse. As beautiful and desirable as Elise was, he could resist her. He would resist her. The consequences were too horrible to face if he did not.

CHAPTER 9.

Sterling was seated for dinner. His father had claimed his rightful chair at the head of the table. Sterling's three brothers were also in attendance, laughing and teasing one another. His mother flitted about, making certain all was to his father's satisfaction. Sterling knew that his parents' marriage had been arranged, and that the agreement had suited them well, if there was no great love between them.

But then something happened. As Sterling's mother poured his father a glass of wine, he took her hand and brought it to his lips-an affectionate gesture, and affection was something Sterling rarely witnessed between his proper parents. A soft glow entered his mother's eyes. After twenty-five years of marriage and four sons, all born with scarcely a year between them, had the marriage finally become more than an arrangement?

The candles in the huge candelabra gracing the center of the table suddenly flickered, flared, then dimmed. A chill crept into the room. His father's face became different. Hair sprouted from his arms, thick and dark-and his teeth, good God, they were sharp, like the teeth of an animal. Sterling's mother screamed.

Sterling's father clawed at his high collar, his fingers now long and bony, his nails like claws. He howled, a sound that raised the hackles on the back of Sterling's neck. Then his father disappeared, and in his place sat a beast.

The huge wolf leaped onto the table, growling and snapping. Sterling's brothers had all risen from the table, their faces ashen, their mouths hanging open.

The creature leaped through a nearby window, breaking the glass. Sterling's mother now lay in a dead faint upon the floor. He sat frozen in place, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

The horrible image of his father's transformation played over and over in Sterling's mind, squeezing his head until he thought his brain would burst. He glanced down and saw his own hands covered in dark fur. No!

"Sterling," he heard Elise's voice from a long distance away. "Sterling, wake up. You're dreaming."

He bolted upright. Sweat coated his body, and he could scarcely catch a breath.

"Are you all right, Sterling?"

Her blurred image came into sharp focus. Worry creased Elise's brow. A long braid fell over her shoulder, and the nightgown she wore, although modest to a fault, was still arousing, maybe due to the fact that he wondered what, if anything, she wore beneath it.

"I'm fine. Only a nightmare." Due to her presence in his wagon, Sterling no longer slept naked. He threw his blanket aside and struggled to his feet. Elise rose and sat upon the cot.

"You've had them before," she said quietly. "Although usually you only moan a couple of times and drift back to sleep. Maybe if you talked to someone about the dreams-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" he snapped, then immediately regretted his harsh tone. Sterling ran a hand through his hair. "I apologize. I had no call to lash out at you over a poor night's sleep. I need some fresh air."

What he needed worse was to get away from the tempting sight of Elise sitting upon his cot in her nightgown. How intimate a picture she portrayed. How easily he could become used to such a sight to greet him each morning. Sterling pulled on his boots and bolted from the wagon. The cook fire had already been started, and stew left from last night's meal simmered over a pot. Only Mora and Sarah were still seated around the fire.

"Best hurry up!" Sarah called. "There won't be much left once they all gather round!"

Sterling grabbed a plate and dished up his breakfast. Elise would be a while, since she wasn't yet dressed. He grabbed a plate for her and filled it as well. That brought a lift of Sarah's brow.

"I told her she wasn't going nowhere," she said, a grin stretching her mouth.

Mora tensed. "You should have made her go," the snake charmer complained. "It is not safe for her here."

"She's safe enough under my protection." Sterling cast Mora a warning glance. "And she'll only be with us as far as Liverpool. Then she will go about her life, and the rest of us will go about ours."

Sarah placed a hand against her head and closed her eyes. "I do not see her leaving in the future. I see a wedding, and children. I see-"

"Stop it, Sarah," Sterling commanded. The last thing he needed was visions of a life with Elise planted inside of his head. "I don't find your predictions amusing."

The fortune-teller opened her eyes and sighed. "I'd hoped she might help you find your sense of humor, but you're as surly as ever. Just like that great beast of yours, always growling and snapping at everyone."

He liked Sarah's comparison less than her predictions. Sterling took Elise's plate and headed back toward the wagon. An older man dressed in clothes befitting a gentleman suddenly stood in his path. The man kept glancing around, as if in search of someone or something.

"Can I help you?" Sterling asked.

The man's gaze swept him coldly. "I'm looking for a girl."

Sterling appraised the man as well, using the same cold tone with him: "You're looking in the wrong place. We don't offer the kind of sport you seek."

Removing his hat, the man brushed the dust away. "I'm looking for my niece, you idiot. The ungrateful chit has run away. I thought you might have seen her along the road somewhere. Maybe lying in a ditch with her throat slit."

One of the plates Sterling carried nearly slipped from his fingers. This man had to be Elise's uncle. Her change of heart last night made perfect sense now. She must have seen her uncle at the inn.

"I've seen no young women lying in a ditch," Sterling said. He didn't like the man. Elise's uncle, if this was the man, seemed more annoyed by the thought of finding her dead than concerned. "You must be worried if she's taken to the road. No telling what might happen to her."

The man sniffed, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to his nose. "God-awful animal stench," he muttered. "Makes my eyes itch and my nose drip. I'd leave her to her own sorry fate and gladly be rid of her nuisance, but her bridegroom has already paid a handsome price for her. I don't intend to give him his money back."