Sprawled across the covers, she wore only thin cotton panties and a camisole-even in the dead of winter. Had she been feeling the heat like he had ever since their encounter? Her skin appeared flushed, and her nipples jutted outward like prize beads beneath that cotton. Studying her fully formed body, he felt his groin tighten in immediate reaction. This isn't natural, this kind of coupling, a political voice warned, but he recognized it as belonging to Scott Dillon, and ignored it altogether.

Tugging off his gloves, he slid them into his jacket pocket and took another careful step toward her bed. Cautiously, he settled onto the edge of it. "Kelsey," he whispered, lifting his rough fingers to her cheek. Soft, like a flower petal- the kind that might easily bruise-that was how her skin felt. He blinked in surprise.

"Kelsey Wells, wake," he urged in a whisper, not wanting to terrify her. He could have done the job without disturbing her-should have done-and yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. Her sleepy eyes fluttered open, then widened, but she didn't move. She lay there in the dark, gazing up at him, unflinching despite his unexpected appearance in her room. A slow, delirious smile spread across her face, and he stroked her cheek again, tracing his fingers down to her lips, amazed. She caught his hand in her own after a moment, their fingers twining in silent unity.

"You came back," she answered finally, drawing in a breath. He couldn't help but smile in return, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm; his reaction had nothing to do with his reason for being here, and everything to do with his soul's deeper intentions.

"I knew you would come," she whispered, brushing a hand through her tousled hair. Only then did he remember that he had not shifted back to the man she would recognize. Yet she still knew him.

"Are you surprised?" He c.o.c.ked his head sideways as he studied her. By All's name, how had she known he would come? He'd not believed it himself until today.

"I thought it would be sooner." Sitting up in bed, the tumble of wild auburn hair spilled across her pale shoulders.

"Ah," he breathed, a hushed sound in their darkness, "you were giving up on me already?"

"Not yet, no," she said, still smiling.

"Perhaps you would have if I'd taken longer," he suggested, allowing his doubts about true love to solidify between them. She should know he was no naive prince, nor a young man in search of a f.e.c.kless enchantment. "Perhaps you would have forgotten."

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked, the radiant smile forming into a look of frustration. "I don't understand any of this. I don't even know your name. In fact, I don't even know what it is you've made me feel at all."

"I wasn't being cavalier." He stared into her eyes, searching them. He wanted her to trust him-to grasp that, just as she'd understood by the lake, he would never hurt her. At least not intentionally.

"I could have run," she whispered, and he swore that even in the darkness emotion glinted in her pale eyes. "I could still run now."

"You could," he agreed, brushing a long, spiraling lock of hair away from her eyes. "But I would follow." As if in reply, he felt the bond between them constrict, drawing his chest tighter than a drum. He recognized the sensation as Kelsey's pull on him, magnetic and unshakable.

"I want to know your name." She sounded almost angry, all the tenderness and joy he'd seen in her moments earlier replaced now by pained frustration.

He nodded, lowering his voice. "You could not p.r.o.nounce it." That was the most truthful answer he could

give-rather than the much easier one of his a.s.sumed human name.She tilted her chin upward, eyes flashing with challenge. "Try me."He laughed, then stated his Refarian name as rapidly as he could. Not just his name, but his full family name as well as his formal t.i.tle, all of which together comprised a long sentence.

"Well, that is"-she hesitated, laughing awkwardly- 'mmm, kind of challenging, actually."

For a moment she attempted to repeat it, stumbling painfully over several of the syllables, and this made

him smile. He had no doubt that Kelsey Wells rarely backed down from a challenge. "You may call me as all the others here Jo," he suggested gently. "Jared Bennett."

"That sounds a little like it."

"A bit."

"Jared." She tried the name out on her tongue, almost like she wanted to see if it really did fit him. "Jared Bennett. Jared." Touching her lips, she hesitated, then lifted her eyes to meet his. "I like it."

Strange, but he felt his face flush hot at those words. "I am glad." He wanted her to like the name; hewanted her to like everything about him. They fell silent, not out of awkwardness but rather because ofoverpowering emotion. Do your work and be gone, Jared, the warrior demanded. Much is at risk foryour people, the king urged. But then, lastly, the man begged for another course of action entirely. Takeher with you, d.a.m.n it. Take her.

"Kelsey," he began. "I'd like to show you something."

"Your ship?" she asked breathlessly, clear eyes widening. "I'd love to see it, would love to know more,"

she rushed, squeezing his hand.

"No, not my ship," he said, suppressing a smile. Kelsey had no idea how very human his life here on

Earth actually tended to be. "But someplace important to me-and to my people."

"Who are your people? I know you must be some sort of... alien, a shape-shifter, right?"

"You have many questions," he observed, tracing his thumb over the back of her pale, freckled hand.

"You are a scientist, I am told."

"How did you know-"

"I know much about you," he explained.

Her whole expression changed, her voice growing husky as she said, "I imagine you do." She leaned in

close, cupping his face within her hands, drawing his lips toward her own. "I haven't ever felt anything like I did the other night," she said. As she brushed her lips over his, he felt his entire body grow taut in reaction. Unfamiliar with the precise sensations, he felt her gain control of him, a fact that perturbed him on every level. Without meaning to, he pushed her slightly away.

"I wish to take you from here," he said. Frowning at her, he wiped the back of his hand over his lips.

She seemed not to notice-at least, not exactly-saying with a shrug, "All right." Releasing his hand, she slipped off the bed, scooping up a discarded pair of blue jeans and a sweater. Standing beneath the slip of moonlight, her figure appeared even more supple and curvaceous than it had there in the bed. Shimmying into her jeans, and then her sweater, she seemed oblivious to the painful arousal she'd caused in him. "Okay," she said with a warm smile, "let's go."

Just like that. No questions, no doubts or interrogation of him. Gaping at her, he wondered why she wouldn't be afraid. He felt the burden of the acts he had committed, the blood shed by his hands. A distant part of his mind ached to warn her against himself. To send her a thousand miles in another direction, away from the warrior and king.

But instead, he whispered the truth. "I need you," he said, holding his breath lest she flee right away. She did not, but turned to him, smiling as he rose to his feet. "So I beg your forgiveness for what I do next," he said, capturing her hard against his body.

A man could do only so much harm in his quest to find love. That was what Anika had whispered in his ear right before taking flight. Alone in the car with Kelsey now, Jared turned that phrase over in his head, gripping the steering wheel of the Suburban until his knuckles grew white-until the blue veins stood out, stark against the blanched skin. d.a.m.n it, he knew he was lying to his heart, making promises that could never be kept. The bond between Kelsey and him would have to be broken. Tonight. The leader within him would see to that fact, even as the man inside raised bitter fists in objection. It had to be done, for everyone's safety.

Beside him, Kelsey slumped sleepily against the window, his winter scarf still wrapped solidly around her upper face and eyes. Her deep auburn hair spilled over her shoulders, waves of it that caused his fingers to b.u.m. Kelsey stirred in her seat with a quiet little murmur and sat up. She clutched at the blindfold, but Jared caught her wrist, gentle but firm. "We're still driving," he informed her coolly. He was determined, if he accomplished nothing else by carting her off to their camp tonight, to master his careening emotions.

She nodded, silent, and he instantly regretted the stern tone he'd taken. Softening his voice, he asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'm blindfolded and in a car with an alien who might- or might not-want to hurt me," she growled with a toss of her hair. Well, this human clearly did not like playing captive. Without Anika accompanying them, perhaps her fears were intensified.

"This action is for your safety," he told her, frowning. And because I couldn't resist bringing you back to my compound. G.o.d, I'm behaving like a fledgling experiencing the first flush of hormones and bodily urges.

"Oh, right." She snorted. "It's definitely key to this whole enterprise that I be taken as a hostage! h.e.l.lo? Hostage? Do your people have a word like that?"

He suppressed a smile. "Actually 'hostage' works quite well, thank you."

"You think this is funny, is that it?" she cried. "This isn't funny at all."

"I think you are beautiful." Where had that come from? Silence, you idiotic and brainless king.

Well, her reaction did nothing to quash his growing burning for her. Her full mouth parted, forming a quiet oh sound.

"I mean, you are, of course, very beautiful," he persisted, training his eyes on the road ahead. Silence curtained between them, and in a burst of awkward anxiety, he turned on the radio, and U2 blasted loudly from the car's speakers. Feeling with her hand, she touched the b.u.t.ton, silencing the music.

"Then why wouldn't you kiss me?" she asked, turning toward him even though she could see nothing. "Back at the apartment? It didn't seem to do anything for you."

"Kelsey," he protested softly, feeling his chest tighten with unwelcome tenderness for her. His bondmate. She could be yours, Jared, a wooing voice promised.

She answered her own question. "I guess I'm beautiful, but not very exciting," she said, turning back toward the window and wrapping a long, spiraled lock of auburn hair around her forefinger. "It's that whole sister vibe, which is pretty much the lifelong thing I get from most guys, which just happens when you're almost six feet tall."

"I make decisions based on pragmatism," he answered, reaching a hand to clasp her shoulder, aching to transmit some sort of tenderness to her. She jumped at the contact, but he did not withdraw. Instead, he curled his long fingers slowly through the hair along her nape so that his heat threaded into her body, opening up the physical connection as well as the ensuing flood of sensations he knew would accompany it. "Such is the way of all leaders."

Shivering beside him, she pressed on: "What kind of leader are you?" Only then did he recall that she knew nothing about his ident.i.ty-nothing important, at least. She had no idea of the war between their two worlds, or of the rebel forces that he led here on her planet.

He withdrew his hand from her shoulder. "What kind of leader am I?" He laughed hoa.r.s.ely, working to cover his misstep. "Right now, a fairly stupid one." The less she knew, the better for her safety.

"Who do you lead?" she insisted. "Do you mean your people?"

Blowing out a heavy breath, he focused on the road ahead, training his eyes on the yellow centerline and the clear arc his headlights arrowed into the blackness ahead. Maybe if he didn't answer, she would let it go.

"Tell me who it is you lead!" she cried, grasping outward with her hand and feeling for him.

"My people, yes," he answered. "We are in a war, and..." What more could he tell her? Knowledge would place her in extreme danger-and him as well, not to mention many millions of others.

"And you're leading these people from here on Earth?" she questioned, leaning back in the seat. "What sort of war? Who are your enemies? Are you fighting us?"

"Humankind is not the enemy I fight." Partial truth and partial lie, but it was best that way.

"Why are you here, then?"

"My own planet is in chaos, Kelsey," he answered, grief stabbing at his heart. "The war has raged for a long time, and taken a brutal toll on my species. The people we fight would destroy every last one of us. They are genocidal and cruel and despise my kind." As he spoke, he found that it felt right to open to her with the truth. It comforted him in some strange way that he didn't bother to question. "I am the last in my line. All the rest were either murdered or died in battle. So now it falls to me."

She didn't answer at first, only nodded, sitting ramrod straight in the seat beside him. Perhaps so much information had overwhelmed her? She had no experience with such things. But she surprised him, whispering softly, "Why does it fall to you? That's a huge burden for any one man."

His breath caught at her words, choking him with years' worth of unexpressed pain. Stealing a sideways glance, he saw that she'd turned toward him and was waiting.

"You may have a bad habit of taking hostages," she continued, a tender expression on her face, "but I do know you're a good man."

He ached to warn her, to tell her of all his horrible deeds. To remind her that he could spill her blood and drain it from her body with one lift of his hand. Murderer, changeling, king, freak. All the descriptors applied and in equal measures, but never lover or husband or lifemate. These words were the property of other men-ones who led easier and less complicated lives.

"A good man," he repeated dully.

"I knew it within moments of meeting you, Jared."

"You make many a.s.sumptions based on little fact."

"I know what I sensed that night," she insisted, reaching to dislodge the blindfold with her free hands- hands he had intentionally left unbound so she could retain her rightful sense of freedom. "I knew then that you were someone I could trust. And I know that now." She reached a hand to touch his where it gripped the steering wheel.

He did not react, did not move-and did not push her away. With a sniff, he said, "You should not reach such conclusions so very easily," then turned up the radio full-blast to drown out any answer she might have given him.

Chapter Five.

Jared pulled the Suburban up in front of a large, rustic cabin perched on a mountain peak. Their winding approach had proven difficult, with the vehicle's tires spinning and spitting gravel on the unpaved drive. At one point, the rear wheels had become entrenched in a deep s...o...b..nk, then spun out on the ice, but Jared, obviously used to the terrain, never flinched. They had driven at least four or five hours from Laramie, and he'd never mentioned the blindfold again, not once she'd removed it. She had seen some highway signs since then, ones for Bondurant and Pinedale and other towns in the western part of the state. By her calculations, they didn't seem to be all that far from Jackson.

After shifting the SUV into park, Jared stared at the brightly lit cabin in front of them, but remained silent. Exhaling slowly, like a man deep in thought, he rubbed one large palm over his closely cropped hair. Somewhere along the drive, the blond hair had again become black, the green eyes again the lovely dark ones she had seen before.

Two men emerged from the cabin's interior and walked toward the vehicle, but Jared raised his hand, issuing some sort of sign, and they immediately retreated, closing the cabin door behind them.

Jared watched them, his dark eyebrows. .h.i.tching together in an unreadable expression. She followed his gaze to the cabin's brightly lit windows; inside, even though it had to be at least three or four in the morning, she could see people moving about. For a moment, she had the laughable notion that perhaps Jared wasn't an alien at all, but rather some perverse underground cult leader. Wait, weren't there supposed to be alien abduction cults? She thought of one in particular, where a whole houseful of people had committed suicide while wearing running shoes, and prayed that n.o.body would ask about her footwear.

But the seriousness she saw in Jared's eyes reminded her of all the weighty secrets he'd shared with her. Of his people being pursued to extinction by their enemies, chased from their homes, wandering across the galaxies. No, this was no laughing matter for Jared Bennett; of that much she was certain.

"Are we going to go inside?" she asked, curious about his life here, even as she felt a tiny constriction of fear.

He nodded. "In a minute. This is my home, you must realize," he said. "It is strange, having you here. I wanted it, but still..."

"Why strange?" She wanted her presence to feel natural to him, to feel right.

"You are innocent of many things, Kelsey," he said, giving her a pensive smile. "I am wrong to draw you into my world. I have been selfish in this."

"I chose to be here," she reminded him. "You didn't make that choice for me."

"But I drew you into our conflict," he argued, the sadness she'd glimpsed in his eyes morphing into something darker and unreadable. "I apologize for this. And also because some may not appreciate your presence here. Nor my bringing you into our camp." He looked into her eyes. "Just know that going in."

"I see," she answered in a cool voice.