She leaned farther back, offended. "I told you I'd never invade your privacy and I keep my word."

He pulled her back to him. "I didn't mean that way. Never mind. Come here."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes this time. "If it's not romance you want,

then I guess you get the rutting stag.""Wait a minute. What were you going to-" But she never got to complete the question because, true to his word, he took her. Fully, with no apologies. And none were necessary.

He unbuckled her overalls and they slid halfway down her legs, but she wasn't concerned with that tangle because finally, blessedly, his hands were beneath her tank top and covering her. Her nipples peaked so hard it was almost painful. Whatever she might have said came out as one long growl of pleasure. And then his mouth was on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, suckling, nibbling, softly biting until she was a writhing ma.s.s of desire, bucking and arching beneath him and not caring how desperate she seemed.

He peeled the shirt over her head and pushed the rest down her legs until she kicked free from all of it and lay beneath him with nothing on but a scant pair of underwear. And even that felt like a dense, c.u.mbersome barrier. She went to wriggle out of them, as well, but he was pulling his own shirt off at that moment and she found herself completely captivated by the look of Devin Archer's naked chest in the moonlight. Dear G.o.d, but you're beautiful.

It wasn't until he paused and looked down at her with that c.o.c.ky grin of his

that she realized she'd whispered the thought out loud.

She reached for him, but he stayed her hand, leaning down and pinning it over her head. He captured the other one just as easily and held them both in one hand. It was the oddest feeling, the sense of being a captive to him, and yet she was filled with the power of what she saw in his eyes as he looked at her,

all of her. The naked want and desire made her feel like the captor, as well. It was delicious and wicked and she was anxious to explore it.

"You're the beautiful one, Talia." He leaned in close, keeping her hands above

her head. "The way the moon dips down and touches you here." He kissed the very tip of one nipple. "And here." He kissed the other, then pulled it into his mouth. "You taste moon-kissed," he said and her heart sighed. Because he was giving her the romance anyway, whether he realized it or not.

He trailed lazy kisses down toward her navel. But his reach wouldn't extend farther as long as he held her hands. So she slid them free, silently begging him to continue.

And he did.

He dragged the tip of his tongue down the narrow line below her navel. Talia's

breath caught and held as he hovered there. "Dear G.o.d" she managed, very close to pleading.

He looked up at her, desire so dark in his eyes she almost came right then.

"I've just begun, sweetheart." He grinned and her hips lifted of their own volition. He skimmed her panties down her legs with one hand, bent his head to her, and with smooth fingers and a warm, wet tongue, proceeded to prove his point. He ripped her immediately over one edge, then dragged her almost screaming up the next. She came so hard the second time, she thought her body was breaking apart into little pieces of pure, saturated pleasure. And by

the time he had her close to her third, he was climbing up her body, grinning like the conqueror he'd just proven himself to be. Her legs moved up over his hips with no coercion from him. He slid out of his trousers so easily it was as if they melted off him, and probably had from the heat that leaped between them. He moved his hips so smoothly into hers it was as if they'd been created to fit there.

Cradling her cheek with one hand, he lowered his head as he began to press inside her. "Next time, we'll shoot for romance," he said, then pushed into her so hard she had to grab hold of his wide shoulders to keep from being shoved right off the blanket.

Her legs wrapped tightly to his hips as he sank deeply into her. It was a startling invasion, but her body welcomed it gleefully. Talia felt as if she'd stepped outside herself as her own body took to his, and took his, as if it had always known this was what it craved, what it needed. What it was born for.

Then she was back inside herself and feeling her own body's sensations. Oh G.o.d, was she feeling. He was a raging force inside her and she alone could master its fury. It was daunting and powerful, terrifyingly glorious and everything she'd ever wanted.

When he arched back and shouted through his release, pouring himself into her as if he meant to empty his very soul, she knew she'd never be able to give herself to anyone else, not like this. It made no sense, and it was no romanticized vision of their lovemaking. It hadn't been love, but a raw and powerful need that had been slaked. She knew that, understood it to her core. But that didn't negate the absolute knowledge that she'd found her mate. In the most primal sense of the word.

Archer slid from her and rolled to his back. They both lay there, staring up at the sky as the night air cooled their bodies.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked.

She smiled up at the stars, still dazed and not a little sh.e.l.l-shocked. "I'm very

okay."

"I was rough."

"You were perfect."

She didn't look at him, but she swore she felt him smile. Then his hand

reached for hers and tears rose in her eyes, blurring the stars above. With his fingers tightly woven between hers she felt more intimately connected to him than ever before.

She had no idea how much time had pa.s.sed, she might have even dozed off, when he tugged her to her side and pulled her into the shelter of his body.

"Come here," he murmured.

She willingly let him wrap his heat around her. He tugged another blanket up and over them and she gladly burrowed into it, realizing for the first time how cool the night air had gotten.

The steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek had just begun to lull her to sleep when she felt his hand slide up her side and down along her back. All the sensations that had dimmed into a dull, pleasant buzz, hummed to life again.

"Time for that romance I promised you," he whispered.She was going to correct him and save herself from the threat to her heart he'd inflict if he was gentle with her now, when she remembered the look on his face when he'd asked her before if she knew what he was feeling. And then it hit her. He was the one who needed the romance.

It was as shocking a realization as any she'd experienced since he'd walked into her life. Mr. Mercenary, a romantic? The idea made her smile as she looked up into his eyes and did what she knew was right, despite the risk to her heart. "I respect a man who keeps his promises."

And he was slow and wonderful, amazingly gentle, and perfect. And she realized she'd underestimated just how threatened her heart was. But she'd deal with that later. Much, much later.

Chapter 13.

Archer brushed at the annoying gnats, then realized it was whiskers tickling his cheek as he cracked one eye open.

Ringer.

It only took a heartbeat longer to realize that Ringer was presently a cat, but it was a heartbeat too long.

Talia opened her eyes and smiled in surprise. "Where did you come from?"

Archer swore silently. This was not how he'd planned this. But then he'd never planned this.

The cat b.u.t.ted his head against Talia's and rumbled as she scratched behind

his ears. The sun was just beginning to rise and the air was cool outside the little coc.o.o.n they'd made inside their blankets. Her hair was a ma.s.s of tangled curls and her face was lined with pressure wrinkles from the blanket. Her nose was pink from the cold, but her eyes were sparkling and luminous. She smiled at him, then laughed as the cat tried to wedge himself between them. Lord, she was so beautiful it made his insides hurt.

"Pushy sort," she said.

"Out of here, mate," he said. Archer scooped Ringer up and deposited him outside their coc.o.o.n, then pulled Talia back to his side.

"Wait, I should make sure he's okay. I've never seen him around here before."

Archer held her against her wishes and she frowned up at him. "What?""He's fine.""But-" She looked past him and stared at the cat, suddenly frowning. "That's odd."

"What?"

She looked back at him. "I didn't make any connection with him. Usually,

unless I'm concentrating, the feelings sort of ambush me. And yet, he's not really signaling... anything." She pushed up on her elbow and stared at the cat again. "But there is this other feeling, like I know him."

"We can worry about the cat later," Archer said, tugging her back down

against his chest, silently cursing Ringer to eternal h.e.l.l.

She was still distracted, but at least she was distracted while nuzzling his chest. Distraction was a good thing. In fact, he intended to do a good deal more distracting, but just as he dipped his head to follow through on the thought, hers came up, delivering a good crack to his chin.

"Ow!"

She rubbed her head, then immediately rubbed at his chin. "I'm sorry. I just realized what bugged me."

Archer frowned and rubbed his chin. There would be no peace, or anything

else, until she got it out. "What?"

"There's only one other animal I can never connect with. Ringer. But I figured it was because he was from the future or something." She shifted once again to the cat, who was sitting less than a foot away, studiously ignoring them both as he meticulously washed first one front paw, then the other. She looked back to Archer. "Nothing. Even when I try.

You know, I think my empathic skills are going haywire or something. That day Ringer was hurt, the signals were way stronger than his actual discomfort should have telegraphed. Almost as if he were intentionally trying to get my attention, now that I think about it." She looked at him and must have seen the guilt on his face, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

As he opened his mouth to confess, Ringer changed back to the scruffy mutt

before Talia's wide, astonished gray eyes.