Her mind skittered back to something Talon Marshall had saida"about her purse?

What was that, exactly?

Shead learned so many facts about this world, but she didnat remember being told about a purse.

Lifting her head, she looked toward the door. Head gone off to get her some clothing. While he was away, she could run out of the house.

And go where?

She shook her head. She was still wet and cold. There was nowhere to go, and she might as well make the best of this situation. This was what she was supposed to do!

Again, she forced herself to focus on her surroundings. The bathroom was strange and the house was just as confounding. Shead only gotten a quick look as Talon Marshall had ushered her down a hall, but she sensed that the structure was huge, like the residence of a n.o.ble back home. Yet the man was dressed too casually to be a n.o.ble.

She stopped herself, struggling to rearrange her thinking. There were no n.o.bles in this world, so he couldnat be one. But it looked like he was rich, if he lived in a place this large.

Did he share this dwelling with anyone? A wife? Children? She had no clue. But it seemed impossible that he would be the only occupant.

Just from their brief meeting, she liked him. More than liked him. Head gone out of his way to help a stranger. He could have gotten hurt climbing around the fallen tree, but he hadnat hesitated. And when head held her in his arms, shead felt a spurt of attraction to him. Or had that just been grat.i.tude that head rescued her?

She didnat want to feel either of those things.

Hating the prospect of spinning him her story, she turned her mind to the clammy fabric of her shirt pressing against her skin. It was warm inside the house, but the shirt was making her cold, and she should take it off. Then shead feel better. She was fumbling with the b.u.t.tons and had gotten a few of them opened when she heard footsteps in the hall.

aAll right to come in?a he called.

aYes.a He stepped into the little room, filling the small s.p.a.ce. Outside, she hadnat taken in his size. Now she saw he was tall and well muscled, with a decisive jaw covered by dark stubble.

aWho lives here with you?a she blurted.

aNo one.a He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. aWell, not on a regular basis. I lead wilderness expeditions. Sometimes clients spend the night at the beginning or end of a trip.a She nodded, wondering what he meant by a awilderness expedition.a Briskly, he changed the subject. aYou need a hot shower. Then you can put these on.a As he spoke, he set down a pile of soft clothing on a square table beside the sink.

A hot shower? Shead been thinking of a bath, and her dulled brain scrambled to process what he was suggesting.

As he spoke, he pulled aside a curtain and reached to turn a lever. Water came spraying out of . . . The word eluded her.

As he fiddled with the dial, she continued to open her shirt, still struggling with the wet b.u.t.tonholes. Finally, she got it off and dropped it on the floor, then stood and wrestled with the snap at the top of the pants. The zipper came down more easily, and she was just stepping out of the pants when he turneda"and made a choked sound.

Shead been automatically getting out of her wet clothes. Now she blinked as she realized she was standing in front of him clad in nothing more than the unfamiliar underwear shead put on a few hours ago. The revealing underwear.

aOh!a Taking a quick step back, she hit the toilet with her legs, throwing herself off balance.

She would have fallen if his hand hadnat whipped out and grabbed her arms, steadying her, drawing her closer, so that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s came to rest against his chest.

Neither of them moved.

aSorry. Iam . . .aa"a phrase shead learned came to hera"aa little out of it.a aItas okay.a She clenched and unclenched her fists. Maybe she could tell him the trutha"right now. And everything would be all right. He could help her. Really help her, and she wouldnat have to keep up the lie that shead already started.

The moment those thoughts stole into her mind, a stab of pain knifed through her head. She knew it was from Vandar, from what head done to her before shead started her training for this a.s.signment.

aWhat?a aI . . .a Unable to stay erect, she sagged against him.

aWhat?a he asked again, his voice more urgent. aDid a branch hit your head?a aI donat . . . know. Maybe,a she managed to whisper, thinking that hitting her head would give her an excuse for her shaky behavior.

aMaybe I shouldnat leave you alone,a he said in a husky voice.

She wanted to cling to him, and the sympathetic tone she heard in his voice.

No, donat leave me alone. Help me. Youave got to help me get out of this trap.

That thought brought another stab of pain, but she was ready for it this time, and for the despair that filled her, because she understood there was nothing he or anyone else could do for her, not on the very basic level where she desperately needed help.

aIall be fine,a she whispered, pushing away from him.

He studied her face. aYouare sure?a aYes.a The doubtful look he gave her made her heart turn over.

aIall be here, if you need me.a aThank you.a When he stepped away and closed the door behind him, she breathed out a small sigh.

The room was filling with steam, and she marveled at the torrent pouring from the . . . showerhead. She had better wash before she used up his supply of hot water.

She fumbled with the unfamiliar catch on the bra. Why in the name of Carfolian h.e.l.l was it in the center of her back where it was almost impossible to reach?

As she finally got it open, she glanced toward the door. She was alone with a man in a house that was isolated in the woods. He could take advantage of her, if he wanted.

She struggled to put that thought out of her mind as she pulled off her panties, then climbed into the shower and stuck her hand under the water. It felt wonderful, and she pulled the curtain closed behind her, as much to shield herself as to keep from getting the pounding water on the floor.

TALON listened to the sounds of the woman moving around in the bathroom. When he heard the shower curtain rustle, an image of her naked body leaped into his mind. Annoyed with himself, he made a snorting sound, then turned away and strode down the hall, cursing the male imperative to respond to an attractive woman.

When shead started getting undressed, head had a very nice view of her body. And even as head been comforting her, head registered the weight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest.

Shead acted s.p.a.cey. Not seductive. Unless she was a good actress, pretending to be out of it while she worked her feminine wiles on him.

He clenched his jaw. That last thought was another overreaction, he told himself. Yet there had been something strange about her. Something he didnat understand. And didnat trust, to be more specific.

She had an unfamiliar accent. Where did she come from?

With narrowed eyes, he examined the circ.u.mstances under which theyad met. Shead been trapped by a ma.s.sive tree limb as a fire threatened her. Apparently, shead been out in the storm and gotten into trouble.

And maybe . . .

What? Someone had sent her to spy on him?

He deliberately relaxed his tense shoulders. Head been off balance since the cops had stopped by, which was d.a.m.n annoying.

Back at the front door, he grabbed the flashlight head set down. Slipping out into the night, he headed for the lightning strike that had started the fire.

The rain had finished putting out the flames, and his nose told him that the embers were no longer smoldering. But he gave the area a thorough inspection before heading back to the house.

One problem solved, but his mind was still churning as he strode back inside. To distract himself, he stopped in the living room and turned on the flat-screen television set, tuning to a cable news channel. He could see the picture from the kitchen, and with his excellent hearing, he could also follow the commentary.

THE hot water beating down on Kenna felt like a trip to heaven. Looking around the shower enclosure, she found a bar of spicy-smelling soap resting in a niche in the wall. She picked it up, sniffing it before lathering her body. There was also a bottle of something called shampoo, and when she read the directions, she found it was for washing hair. Again, she liked the fragrance as she lathered and rinsed.

She wanted to stay under the pounding water, as much to postpone her inevitable reunion with Talon Marshall as for the warmth. She had been living in a chilly cave for months, and the heat of the water made her sigh with pleasure. At the same time, she knew she couldnat stay hidden there. So she peered at the levera"which said ahota on one side and acolda on the other.

Guessing at what she should do, she turned it all the way to the cold side, and the water went off.

After pulling a towel off a bar fastened to the wall, she marveled at the soft texture as she rubbed it over her skin. It was like nothing she had ever felt, not even when she had lived in Cardonas household.

When her body was dry, she worked on her hair, getting out as much of the moisture as she could, knowing she was spending so much time on it because she didnat want to go out and face the man who had rescued her.

But if she didnat emerge soon, she knew he was going to come back and ask if she was all right.

Suddenly self-conscious again, she turned to the pile of clothing on the little table. The soft pants would have been too long, but some kind of stretchy band at the bottom held them at her ankles. The long-sleeved shirt was also soft. Both of them carried the scent of Talon Marshall, and she knew they must belong to him.

She didnat want to wear his clothing, especially against her bare skin, but she saw no alternative since her under-things were still wet.

After dressing, she turned back to the sink. Above it hung a looking gla.s.s, which was covered with moisture from the steam. After shead wiped it with a towel, she stared at herself. The image that stared back was startlingly clear. She inspected her curly brown hair, still damp from the shower. Peering more closely at her eyes, she saw that they looked blue. Shead never been quite sure of the color until this moment. She took in the shape of her lips, then opened her mouth, looking at her teeth, glad that they were straight and even. Next to the sink were two things she recognized from her prep sessions. A toothbrush in a clear package. And a tube of toothpaste. After unwrapping the brush, she carefully squeezed the toothpaste on the bristles, then scrubbed the brush across her front teeth. The minty flavor was a surprise, but after a few moments, she decided she liked it.

When shead finished scrubbing her teeth, she set the brush next to the package, washed out her mouth with water from the tap, then gave her face one more inspection. In this world, she knew that women might wear makeup. She didnat have any. Would she be attractive enough to Talon Marshall? Would he . . .

Let her stay here?

That was the end of the thought, but she hardly dared to hope for that much.

Unable to keep looking herself in the eye, she whirled away from the mirror.

aDonat think about it,a she ordered herself. aYou donat have any choice about what you have to do.a Almost against her will, she exited the bathroom and started down the hall.

When shead been wet and cold, Talon had hurried her toward the shower. Now she walked more slowly, glancing into the rooms. Most of them had wide beds and chests with drawers. But all of the beds were neatly made, and no personal possessions were lying around, which made it look like n.o.body was actually sleeping in the rooms.

On the chests were more of the magazines she had looked at back in her own world. She wanted to page through them, but not now.

Another chamber had a desk, a chair, and equipment that she had never seen before, but she knew from her research that the thing on the desk was a computer.

A voice came from the end of the hall. Someone talking. Not Talon Marshall. Did he have a visitor? Had he called the authorities to come take her away?

The police! Shead seen pictures of them. They were like soldiers or guards back home. But they had guns that could kill you from yards away.

She wanted to run to the back of the house and hide, but that would do her little good. Instead, she tiptoed down the hall and stopped short when she saw a picture sitting on a chest. A picture of a man talking. Only she could see his mouth moving and hear his voice.

Astonished, she stood and watched. Was this the television that she had learned about? Shead thought the adepts were exaggerating to impress her. Now she saw it for herself. The picture switched abruptly to a ma.s.s of people running down a street, with flashes of smoke landing among them.

What did that mean?

The people looked angry, and a voice came from the television, telling her that they were protesters in India.

The scene switched again to a peaceful-looking forest with shafts of light breaking through the treesa"the same picture she had seen in one of the magazines. Only this scene moved. And a woman walked into the picture, talking about something called deodorant. Something you put in your armpits, she remembered. Only the woman rubbed it on the back of her hand as she spoke.

Kenna watched transfixed, thinking the television thing would be a wonderful source of information about this world.

If Talon Marshall let her stay and watch it.

A noise at the end of the hall told her his probable location. Knowing she had to get the meeting over with, she hurried in that direction and found him in a room that she knew was a kitchen.

His back was to her, but he must have been listening for her, because he turned, an expectant look on his face.

aHow are you feeling?a aGood,a she whispered automatically, then took a step into the room, just as a high-pitched shrieking noise filled the air and she couldnat hold back a scream.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

TALON MOVED WITH the lightning speed of his werewolf reflexes. Although it registered that Kennaas reaction wasnat normal, he knew the whistling kettle head put on to boil water had terrified her. s.n.a.t.c.hing it off the burner, he slammed it down again onto the surface of the stove before sprinting across the room toward her.

aWhat?a she gasped, looking wildly around as though she thought the house was under attack.

He kept his voice low and calm as he folded her into his arms. aItas all right. It was just the kettle. Itas all right,a he repeated, feeling her quiver in his embrace.

aThe kettle?a she asked in a shaky voice, her gaze shooting to the thing that had made the noise. It was still making a feeble sound, but nothing like the high-pitched shriek that had frightened her moments before.

aIt whistles to tell you when the wateras heated. Youave never heard that before?a aNo.a Her voice was faint and apologetic, edging on tears again.

He held on to her, because he didnat know what else to do. For a long moment, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. Finally, she raised her head and looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and helpless.

That look undid him, even when he tried to cling to logic.

He barely knew her. He didnat trust her. He should ease away from her before it was too late.

Too late for what? The question flickered somewhere in the depths of his brain.

Instead of answering the question, he tightened his embrace.

The last time he had held her, shead been wet and cold. Now she was dressed in his sweatpants and shirt. The knit fabric clung to every sweet curve of her bodya"her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the feminine roundness of her hips, the indentation at her waist.

He pictured himself lowering his hand to her bottom, so he could press her more firmly against himself. Somehow he maintained enough control to keep his hands above her waist.

But control was slipping fast as every one of his senses responded to her. He heard her breath turn ragged, inhaled the fresh scent of the shampoo in her hair and the soap on her skin.

She didnat have to stay in his arms. She could have pulled away, but she didnat move, didnat stir. When she raised her face to his, her skin was flushed a delicate pink.

Their gazes locked. Her mouth was mere inches from his, and he caught the warmth of her breath and the scent of mint toothpaste. That tempting flavor drew his head down, so that his mouth touched hers. Shead been frightened, and head leaped to comfort her. Perhaps he was trying to fool himself into thinking that comfort was still his motive. But at the moment of their first mouth-to-mouth contact, something wild and unexpected flared between them, a mutual kindling of emotion.

As his lips moved against hers, she did the same, tasting him, sipping from him, consuming him.

His hands roved restlessly over her back, her shoulders, frantic to take in as much of her as he could. He felt no bra under the knit fabric. When his hands drifted downward, he couldnat detect a panty line. Lord, she was naked under the sweatpants and shirt. His sweatpants and shirt!