Praise for the writing of Sedonia Guillone
Taming Kate
You will have to read this book in one sitting because you can...
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Praise for the writing of Sedonia Guillone
Taming Kate
You will have to read this book in one sitting because you cannot walk away from it. It keeps you reading until the very end. -- Sherry, Coffee Time Romance Sedonia Guillone’s Taming Kate is a new take on a classic love story. This is no remake; the story is crisp and enchanting with unforgettable characters that will touch your heart…The author has a wicked sense of humor that will have you laughing out loud. This should not be missed. -- Tewanda, Fallen Angel Reviews Author Sedonia Guillone writes an arousing tale of love and passion with Taming Kate…Ms. Guillone shows how a kind word and a soft touch can go a long way on the road to love. -- Sinclair Reid, Romance Reviews Today Sedonia Guillone has written an extremely captivating tale in Taming Kate... I loved being able to lose myself for a while in this very charming story. I got so involved in the characters’ lives I just couldn’t put it down. -- Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
Taming Kate is now available from Loose Id.
THE LION’S LOVER
Sedonia Guillone
www.loose-id.com
Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
***** This book is rated:
For explicit sexual content and graphic language.
The Lion’s Lover Sedonia Guillone This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com
Copyright © July 2005 by Sedonia Guillone Excerpt of Incubus copyright June 2005 by Raine Weaver All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 1-59632-123-7 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Ansley Velarde Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
Publisher’s Note The Lion’s Lover is a substantially revised version of a previously released book by
Sedonia Guillone’s alter-ego, Vivian Hart.
Dedication For Mitch, always.
Prologue
Surrey, England, 1907
Serena tiptoed into Theo’s bedchamber after the rest of the household had settled for the night. She wasn’t being sneaky, for their relationship had long been a revealed secret. But going to him under the watchful gazes of her mother, Aunt Margaret, and the servants added undue stress to an already heart-wrenching situation. Quietly, she clicked the door shut, turned the lock, and stood in the shadows, listening for Theo’s breath. A fire burned in the hearth on the other side of the room, the crackling flames just making visible Theo’s face as he lay in his large, velvet-draped, four-poster bed, his eyes closed. Pulling her woolen shawl more tightly around her, she frowned at the rasp in his labored breathing and felt unsure as to whether to disturb him. She thought to turn and leave, but couldn’t. She wanted so badly to see him, to touch him, and there was so little time left. So little time ... “Serena?” Theo’s weak voice slipped through the darkness. “Is that you?”
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Serena went quickly to his bedside. “Of course it’s me, love. Who else?” She looked down at him. Mercifully, the firelight did not illuminate the pallor of his skin or the chalkiness of his dry lips. Theo returned her gaze. In spite of his illness, she always felt his tenderness for her radiating from his gray-green eyes. He managed a weak smile. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m sorry it’s so dark.” Serena leaned over and stroked Theo’s hair. She’d always loved his hair, so soft and full; the reddish brown reminded her of autumn leaves. She had spent many hours over the years touching and caressing it. “It’s all right, Theo,” she whispered. “I understand.” She knew Theo didn’t want her always to see the sickly appearance that his weak heart caused him to have. “But you know you’re always handsome to me.” Theo let out a heavy breath, as if lead weights were sitting on his chest. “Please,” he whispered, “come to bed.” “Yes, Theo.” Serena let her shawl slip from around her shoulders to puddle at her feet. She felt Theo’s eyes on her as she stepped out of her slippers and raised her cotton nightgown over her head. The soft material whispered over her pale skin before it, too, was discarded and landed on the shawl. “You’re so beautiful, Serena.” His gaze caressed the fullness of her small breasts and the hourglass shape of her slender body with the firelight shining on it. Feebly he pulled back the covers for her. “So are you,” Serena whispered as she slipped between the soft sheets and the featherbed that Theo’s body had warmed. And, indeed, she meant it. Theo’s father, a widowed captain in the Royal Navy, who had married her aunt Margaret when Theo was eight, had been an incredibly handsome man, and Theo was his mirror image. Theo’s features were refined, almost as if an artist had sculpted them. Serena especially loved his
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full, sensuous lips. He would have been as devastatingly handsome as his father but for the ill health that had ravaged his physical form most of his twenty-six years. Though Theo was Serena’s elder by a mere half-year, his heart had never worked right. As time passed, he only grew weaker in spite of all the doctors’ efforts. Both knew that the earthly plane of their friendship was drawing to a close. Serena snuggled against Theo, stirrings of arousal now pulsing between her legs. She pressed the length of her body to his. Theo turned his face to hers and they kissed, a soft tender kiss. Serena parted her lips and feathered the tip of her tongue along the soft fullness of Theo’s upper lip. At her touch, Theo slipped his tongue between Serena’s lips, dancing it sensuously against hers. The kiss lasted several long moments while Serena stole under Theo’s nightshirt with one hand, gently caressing his chest with its downy covering of chestnut hair. In spite of his illness-ravaged body, Theo was very masculine, and the strength of his spirit and loving heart emanated from him. Serena wandered downward, over Theo’s stomach to his penis, which she gently clasped and began to rub. She heard Theo catch his breath at the pleasure of her touch, and felt her own desire surge as his erection begin to swell and harden in her hand. He reached up and stroked her hair as she rubbed him. “Serena.” Serena looked into his eyes. “What is it, love?” She knew what he would say. It was always the same; how sorry he was that he could not take her, as he would wish. “You know I can’t ...” His voice trailed off. “None of that matters, Theo.” She leaned down to kiss him soft and full on the lips. His cock had swelled to full hardness. Serena pushed aside the covers and lifted Theo’s nightshirt, bunching it around his chest so that she could take his erection into her mouth. His musky scent enveloped her as she reveled in the taste of the velvety skin and hard muscle. She slid her warm, wet mouth from the head down as far as she could, rubbing with
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her hand around the base. The soft, deep sound of Theo’s moans filled her ears as she pleasured him, poured her love onto him. She savored every moment, because soon there would not be tomorrow. Not together. Serena wanted Theo’s last memories to be of the love and pleasure they shared. Serena rubbed and suckled Theo’s hard shaft, delighting in his moans until he came, his warm seed pulsing into her throat. Eagerly she swallowed it, the one way she could take Theo deep inside of her and make him part of her. Theo was breathing heavily, but seemed more relaxed, and Serena raised herself to stretch out alongside him once again. Theo caressed her hair in light, smooth strokes as he caught his breath. When he’d stilled, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss into the hair of her temple. “It’s your turn, love.” Serena felt a wave of guilt pass through her. She wanted to refuse, so fearful was she of Theo’s exertion. But the horror of the first time she’d tried to refuse haunted her. She hadn’t considered his pride, his instinctive male need to pleasure her. Theo had felt so hurt he hadn’t spoken to her for several days. Serena put aside her personal fears and positioned her body against his so he could reach down between her legs and slip his fingers between the soft, downy lips to rub the slick flesh. Serena moaned at the pleasure, her hips rocking against Theo’s fingertips on her clit. She knew he loved pleasing her and heard his breath surge in her ear when she moaned, the warm air passing over her skin as he played with her, his fingertips sliding in gentle strokes over the moist rose of flesh. In moments, Serena came, her body shuddering with pleasure. When her orgasm had passed and Serena lay limply content against Theo, he raised his fingers to his lips, licking Serena’s nectar from them. “I love how you taste,” he said softly, his arm around her as they snuggled. “Like roses and port.”
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Serena blushed. She always did when he said such things, despite the reality that Theo had seen and tasted her between her thighs countless times. “Thank you,” she whispered. She inclined her head and kissed Theo’s shoulder through his nightshirt. She closed her eyes, feeling sleepy after their loving, and drifted as she listened to Theo’s breathing mingle with the crackling of the dying flames in the hearth. “Serena.” Theo’s raspy voice cut through her drowsing. Serena opened her eyes. “Yes?” she murmured. Theo took a deep breath. “Promise me something?” Serena blinked as her heart surged. Theo never asked her for a promise unless it was of dire importance to him. “What is it?” “Promise first.” Serena sighed. “I promise.” “Promise me you’ll go to Africa.” Serena squeezed her eyes shut. She hated when he spoke of her inevitable future without him. They had often dreamed of going there together on safari with Serena’s uncle Hugh, her father’s older brother, the sixth earl of Hartford. “It’s our dream, Reenie. To help Hugh catch the Great Lion.” Serena caressed Theo’s hair. Uncle Hugh was a safari hunter after one of the greatest prizes known on the plains of Kenya. “I’ll go, Theo. Of course I’ll go.” She kissed the stubble on his pale cheek. “Let’s rest now.” “One more promise.” Serena almost groaned. She knew Theo too well. The hard tone meant she must not deny him. “What?” Her voice squeaked out in a timid whisper, just escaping the sudden dryness in her throat. “Promise me that you’ll find someone to love, who loves you back.”
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Serena caught her breath, digging her fingers into Theo’s arm. “Theo!” “I mean it.” His voice was strong in spite of illness. “Promise.” Tears stung Serena’s eyes, but she bit back protestations. Theo was dying, and now was no time to argue with a man’s dying wish. “I won’t have you be alone, Reenie. Promise again.” Serena blinked back the hot, salty tears, her lips trembling. “I promise, Theo.” He was the one person in her life she could never refuse anything, even when it broke her heart. “I promise again,” she whispered. Theo exhaled, the releasing tension evident in the sound of his breath. Serena caressed Theo’s arm. “Does it really mean that much to you? That I find someone else?” “Yes, Reenie.” Again, Serena squelched the onslaught of tears. She turned over and pressed a tender kiss against his cheek before snuggling against him again. “I love you.” But the softness in her tone belied the churning within her. How dare he ask such a promise of her! She wanted to cry, but didn’t dare. Tears would only make him feel worse. Theo turned his head and kissed her forehead. “I love you.” He nuzzled her hair with his cheek. “Just don’t forget me.” Serena sighed. The one promise she could make and keep, he didn’t ask for. “Never,” she whispered, a promise fierce in her heart. “Never.”
The Lion’s Lover
Chapter One
Three years later, 1910
“Shakespeare, I can’t read Uncle Hugh’s letter when you’re rubbing the paper.” Serena lifted the notes well above her tabby’s head. The cat purred and curled into a furry orange ball on her lap. Serena playfully scratched him behind the ears as a gentle breeze wafted across the lawn. She sighed and put her attention back on the letter. Hugh Blakely was as determined as Theo had been to get her on safari in Africa. According to this latest missive, the Great Lion had been spotted in the game preserve just beyond the borders of his coffee farm. Masai tribesmen came regularly to the farm, complaining of attacks on their cattle. Serena, it’s as if the creature is begging to be caught, Uncle Hugh wrote. Even Aubrey, who, for some Godforsaken purpose, has refused to hunt
any longer, has agreed to go on this quest. Serena paused. Reread the sentence. Yet another mention of Aubrey Darnell, the famous hunter-adventurer, a legend almost as intriguing as that of Allan Quatermain, who’d found King Solomon’s mines. The name always caught her attention, even though she imagined her uncle’s friend, the man who now managed his coffee farm on the outskirts of
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Nairobi, to be one of her uncle’s cronies, grizzled and overbearing. And yet, Uncle Hugh always rhapsodized about him and seemed quite anxious for Serena to make his acquaintance. She sighed again and forced her concentration on finishing the letter. My dear niece, her uncle went on, I would be the happiest uncle on this earth if you were there to share in
my triumph. The Great Lion is the single most coveted quarry in Africa at this time, and I intend to be the one man who brings him in. Just think of our dear Theodore and how happy he would be to know his dream had been fulfilled. Serena closed her eyes, letting the hand that held the letter hang down over the arm of her lawn chair. Waves of longing and sadness assailed her every time she thought of Theo or heard his name mentioned. Perhaps if she waited long enough, the feelings would pass. “Are you all right, my dear?” Serena looked up at her aunt Margaret. There was no need to upset her. She was still mourning her stepson, as well as her husband, who had been lost at sea last year. “I’m fine, Aunt Margaret, thank you. Just a reminder of something I need to do.” The older woman looked at her expectantly, but when Serena did not explain, she turned back to her embroidery. “What does your uncle have to say?” Serena exhaled. “He wants desperately for me to go on safari with him and hunt the Great Lion.” Margaret chuckled. “My brother is persistent, if nothing else. He has not eased up on you since ...” She looked down, “The funeral.” “Aunt Margaret --” “It’s all right, Reenie. What good is having loved if you can’t remember?” Serena nodded and stared down at Shakespeare, purring contentedly in her lap.
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“I’ve never liked the idea of your tromping around in the jungle,” Margaret continued, “with rifles and strange insects all about. Not to mention wild beasts that could attack you.” She shuddered. Serena dabbed at a tear that collected at the corner of her eye. “I made a promise I haven’t kept.” Her aunt sighed. “I know.” Silence settled over the two women, and Serena looked again at Uncle Hugh’s letter. Wave after wave of guilt washed through her. Every day that passed was one more that she had not kept either of her promises to Theo. She looked over at her mother, bent over her prize rosebushes. As if on cue, Marion Blakely looked up, gathered her skirts, and came over. “Serena, I forgot to tell you. George Ruxton will be at the dance this evening.” Serena groaned. “All the more reason not to go.” Her mother sat on an empty lawn chair. “Mr. Ruxton is a perfectly nice man, Reenie. You ought to give him a chance.” “I know he’s nice, Mother. It has nothing to do with him.” “But Serena, it’s been three --” “Marion, have a cup of tea.” Margaret poured a cup from the service on the table in front of them and handed it to her sister-in-law. “Let Serena be, my dear. She’s gone to enough of these dances in the last year to last her the rest of her life. Some losses take all the time the heart demands of them and no less. You and I both know that.” To Serena’s relief, her mother remained quiet, sipping her tea. Serena sat back in her lawn chair, her hand stroking Shakespeare’s back. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the spring afternoon caress her face. She could not face another dance. She could not face having another would-be suitor asking to call on her, another man who did not stir her heart and soul as Theo had. She was breaking her promise to Theo, but she couldn’t help it.
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At least traveling to Africa and going on the safari was something she could do. One promise kept was better than none. She sat up straight. Her decision had been made. Gently, she lifted Shakespeare from her lap and rose, cradling the cat in her arms. Still clutching her uncle’s letter, she turned to her mother and aunt. “I have to go inside for a bit,” she told them. Margaret raised her eyebrows, looking at Serena over the rim of her teacup. “I have to write a letter to Uncle Hugh.” “Serena, what are you planning to tell him?” her mother asked. Serena looked at her. “I’m going to inform him of my intention to come to Africa and help him track down the Great Lion.”
***** Impossible. Aubrey stared more closely at the photograph. He took the liberty of lifting it off the mantel of the fireplace and holding it to the firelight. He’d seen the portrait of Hugh’s niece countless times since it had been sent from England more than three years earlier, but each time he gazed on it, Serena Blakely’s pristine beauty struck him as potently as it had at first glance. Like the most magnificent work of art, she stared out at him from that photograph, her fair hair swept up off her face, tendrils of it whispering against the porcelain skin, her lips full, almost pouty, but not quite. In any case, they begged for a man’s kiss. His kiss. And her eyes ... at once sad and longing, with passion smoldering in their depths. Even the sepia tones of the photograph could not dampen the sweetness in them that stirred his heart. Damn good thing she wasn’t actually in the room with him. A creature this lovely would bring out the beast in him. Literally. “Aubrey, my boy, I should have requested a copy for you, shouldn’t I?”
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Aubrey’s gaze snapped up to Hugh, standing at the doorway to the living room. The older man was grinning at him from underneath his bushy gray mustache. Normally, Aubrey would have heard Hugh’s approach from nearly a mile away. On the plains, such inattentiveness would have earned him an attack from another alpha male. Clearing his throat, Aubrey replaced the frame on the mantel. “Sorry.” Hugh chuckled. “Don’t be, chum. Serena is a lovely young woman. Beautiful, sweet, and talented. You should hear her play Beethoven on the pianoforte. Beethoven himself couldn’t have done as well.” He strode over to the liquor cabinet and proceeded to fix a whiskey. “One for you?” Aubrey shook his head. Liquor and lion did not mix. “No, thank you.” “Have a seat, then. Kamar will serve supper shortly.” He nodded and settled himself into one of the overstuffed leather sofas facing the huge stone fireplace. A sense of discomfort snaked through him after Hugh had spoken of Serena. “I’m surprised your niece has not married,” he said. “I imagine she’s had more than her share of suitors.” Hugh took a seat opposite him, holding the glass of whiskey. “Well, she’s still in mourning for my nephew. Step-nephew, actually. They grew up together you see. They would have married, but Theo always refused. He knew the state of his health and didn’t wish to leave her a widow.” Aubrey nodded briefly and stared into the fire, remembering the expression in Serena Blakely’s eyes. He imagined that when the photograph was taken, she’d been looking at Theodore. The thought drew a sigh from him. He knew only too well what she was going through. It had been over a decade since Marys’s death, and he’d come no closer himself to finding another woman who stirred his senses as she had. Of course, in his current condition, he couldn’t imagine a woman who’d want to be with him, knowing the truth. “I understand,” he murmured.
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Hugh looked at him, understanding in his pale blue eyes. “Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” He gazed briefly into the amber fluid in the glass. The twinkle sparked again in his demeanor. “Well, Aubrey, I have some good news for you. You needn’t look at the photograph of Serena anymore, because as I speak, Serena herself is en route to Kenya. She’s due in tomorrow afternoon.” Aubrey started, nearly catapulting from the seat. He bit back an oath. “I beg your pardon?” Hugh raised his eyebrows. “Serena will arrive in Nairobi tomorrow. I would have told you sooner, but I haven’t seen you for days. You work too hard, man. Those coffee trees won’t run away, even though you act as if they will.” Hugh chuckled. “I’ve yet to see one of those buggers sprout legs.” He lifted his glass. “To my niece,” he said and took a hearty gulp of his whiskey. He seemed oblivious of Aubrey’s state. Aubrey gripped the arm of the sofa with one hand. His heart galloped, and his gut tightened like a fist. For over three years, he’d been grateful that Serena was only an image in a picture, for he knew if he ever met her, he would not be able to resist her. The mere thought of her being within arm’s reach touched off the change. He could only pray that she was not as enticing in person as she was in the photograph. “Are you all right, chum?” Hugh’s brow was now furrowed as he looked at Aubrey. “You seem a bit out of sorts.” Aubrey cleared his throat again. “I’m ... fine, Hugh. Just a bit overworked, like you say.” “Well, pull yourself together, my boy. This is a celebration.” He nodded, staring into the fire. “Unfortunately, the timing couldn’t have been worse,” Hugh went on. I have to fly into Mombasa tomorrow morning and meet with my shipper. I feel terrible not being there to greet Serena, but I’ll be back by supper.”
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Aubrey’s blood froze. He knew what was coming next. “You wouldn’t mind fetching her, would you, Aubrey?” Aubrey’s knuckles turned white from his grip on the arm of the sofa. “No.” He forced the tightness from his voice. “Of course not.” Hugh grinned. “There’s a good man, Aubrey.” He took another hearty sip of his drink. “Don’t worry, chum. I have no doubt you and Serena will get along splendidly. Just splendidly.” Aubrey didn’t answer and stared into the fire. Please God, he begged silently. Don’t let
her be as beautiful as she is in that picture. For if she was, he was in trouble.
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Chapter Two
The scream of the whistle jolted Serena from sleep. Her eyes flew open as the train she was riding screeched to a halt with a long scrape of steel. She blinked hard several times and peered out her compartment window at the dusty station. The brilliant midday sunlight beat down on the platform, where a collection of people waited to greet those who descended. It was the most colorful assortment of human beings she’d ever seen, their faces ranging from ivory to chocolate to various shades of almond and coffee. Some wore European clothing, while others wore caftans and turbans. She had been reading her Baedeker’s when the rocking motions of the train lulled her to sleep. The book now lay open and forgotten on her lap. Serena closed it and slipped it into her satchel, then rubbed her eyes and looked out the window again to see exactly where she was. The sign on the eaves of the white wooden station read Nairobi, the final stop on her seemingly endless journey from England. Breathing a sigh of relief, she scanned the expectant faces of the individuals on the platform and of those rushing past them, looking for strapping, now gray-haired Uncle Hugh. He’d told her in his last letter that he’d meet her, but she didn’t see any men with a bushy moustache and spectacles in the crowd. She sighed. Though she hadn’t seen her
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father’s older brother since the funeral, she remembered he’d never been a punctual man, not one for decorum and all that. But he was reliable. Figuring he would be there shortly, Serena stood up, smoothed down her traveling skirts, and put on her duster, gloves, and hat before leaving her compartment. The sunlight almost blinded her as she stepped off the train onto the platform, and she shaded her eyes as she continued to search for both her uncle and her trunk. “Miss Blakely?” a masculine voice said behind her. It was not her uncle. Hugh Blakely bellowed rather than spoke. Puzzled, she turned, nearly colliding with a giant of a man. Her eyes were level with his broad chest, covered in a button-down shirt and suspenders. Funny, she hadn’t heard him approach, a man of his size. A quick glance down showed he wore heavy boots. Strange, they’d made no sound on the platform. “Miss Blakely?” She craned her neck to quite a degree in order to see his face. The sun dazzled her eyes, and she squinted heavily, raising a gloved hand to screen them. He noticed and stepped to the side, blocking the offending rays. Now that she could actually see him, she found the eyes looking down into hers a striking hazel, held in a tanned face, weathered to rugged handsomeness. His features looked almost chiseled, right down to the cleft of his chin. She would have considered him almost godlike, but for the surliness of his expression. “Miss Serena Blakely?” The hazel eyes flickered with impatience. His expression jolted Serena into realizing she’d been staring at him and hadn’t answered. She drew herself up, out of her strange reverie. “Yes, I am she,” she answered. “Forgive me.”
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The man softened a bit, yet did not warm. He was devastatingly masculine, and in spite of his apparent unfriendliness, Serena experienced a flutter of attraction, something she’d long thought dead. “Nothing to forgive,” he muttered, his English accent well spoken, like hers. He proffered a large, strong hand, which Serena accepted, noting that his shirtsleeves afforded her a view of the network of veins in a muscled forearm. “I know you’ve come a long way. Aubrey Darnell.” Serena blinked. His touch made her skin tingle, right through her kid glove. This was the Aubrey her uncle kept referring to in his letters? The great hunter and adventurer who spoke most of the native languages of the country and had even hunted with her uncle for Bengali tigers in the depths of India? With all Uncle Hugh had said about the man who helped him run his coffee plantation, Serena had expected someone much older, at least Hugh’s age, which hovered somewhere around sixty. Aubrey Darnell couldn’t have been more than eight or ten years her senior. Hugh Blakely had never been a stickler for details. She smiled, her expression belying the sudden riot within her. The initial flutter of attraction had rapidly mounted to wild lust. She’d only just stepped off the train and met this surly man, and already she desired him to touch her in places that had not had a man’s touch for three long years. “Pleased to ... meet you,” she said tightly as an image flared in her mind, unbidden, of lying naked underneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he possessed her. She blinked hard as he released her hand. Perhaps the hard days of travel had affected her. “Your uncle sent me to fetch you. Unfortunately, he was called away on urgent business.” With a light hand on Serena’s elbow, he began to steer her away from the train. “Let’s find your trunk. I’m sure you’d like to get home and rest.”
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“Yes. It’s been a very long journey.” A thrill traveled up her arm at Aubrey’s touch. The cleft between her thighs pulsed madly. She’d felt intense physical desire in her years with Theo, but this was of an intensity she’d never known. The sensation was, well, for lack of a better word, feral in nature, making her want to simply lie prone on the ground and hike up her skirts. “And a cup of tea wouldn’t hurt.” “We can arrange that.” He stood, scanning up and down for her luggage. Serena watched him, as her lust churned, disturbed at what she’d immediately discovered was her own thin veneer of civilization. As people cleared away, the rest of the platform became visible. Serena spotted her trunk, which a porter had set on the platform, and pointed. “That’s my trunk there, Mr. Darnell.” Aubrey went to Serena’s trunk, picked it up easily by the handles, and hoisted it into the bed of a nearby wagon, which stood waiting with its team of mules. Serena followed her host to the wagon. He came around the side, holding out a large hand to assist her. Again, as he touched her, heat burned right through her glove, and another image assaulted her, of him taking her from behind. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back with the ecstasy of having him sheathed deep inside her, his enormous, strong hands gripping her hips. Oh,
dear! She prayed her cheeks hadn’t reddened. She struggled to gather her frayed wits as he circled the front of the mules and sprang up onto the bench at her side. She stared at him a moment, surprised at the lithe movement for such a large, muscular man. “I’m sorry about the crude form of transportation.” He picked up the reins and undid the brake. “I’m afraid that the automobile has not yet found its way into these parts.” “It’s quite all right. I don’t mind the adventure.” She caught a flash in his green-gold eyes before he turned and slapped the reins down onto the waiting smoky-gray rumps. As the wagon began to roll, she settled herself more
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firmly into her seat and pushed her hat down so it wouldn’t blow off, keenly aware of the man beside her. The wagon bench forced her to sit much too close. In this proximity, the vibrant masculinity that radiated from him touched off an endless train of carnal thoughts like the ones she’d had when he touched her, leaving her nearly breathless. She did her best to sidle away from him on the bench, hoping that even another inch of space would break the magnet-like effect he was having on her. It didn’t work. The images of his bare flesh and rock-hard muscles pressed against her naked body passed relentlessly through her mind. She dared a sideways glance at Aubrey Darnell as he guided the wagon out of the vicinity of the railway station and into the town. His profile was strong, with clean lines, and his sideburns, dark as mink and larger than the fashion, provided an enticing preview to the rest of his hair, which she could not yet see because of his hat. And yet, that scowl. She shook herself inwardly. It’s been too long, she thought. I’d
never normally feel this way for such a sour man. “Welcome to Nairobi, Miss Blakely,” Aubrey said as the town revealed itself. His words pulled Serena from her musings, and she gazed around her at the eucalyptus trees that lined the street, their coin-shaped leaves emitting a cool, sharp fragrance released by the afternoon sun. He sounded critical, giving Serena the strange sense that he wished to discourage her from liking it here. But, awful or not, she had come from too far away to turn around. She was here. The wagon rolled and bounced down the dusty street between motley huddles of rickety office buildings and bungalows crowded together under the dry, brilliant sunlight. “It’s a far cry from London,” she heard him say. His tone was strained, yet not completely unfriendly. “But if you can believe it, the entire country is run from these shacks.” He indicated the structures with one large hand, the other remaining on the reins. “The offices of the High Court, the Native Affairs Department, and the Veterinary Department.” As he spoke, she noticed his voice grew more animated. In spite of his mood,
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she felt his love for this country in his voice. He spoke of Nairobi the way Theo used to speak of poetry. He turned to her. “There are, however, new structures going up all the time. Elegant hotels and such. We are our own self-sufficient colony here.” “It seems a wondrous place, Mr. Darnell.” She fell silent. There was rarely an experience she could have that did not make her wish Theo were with her, and a pang of sadness gripped her. “Actually, I’m not terribly familiar with London. I’d never been out of Surrey but a few times before this journey.” She did not add that she’d always been afraid to go away from Theo for more than a few hours at a time, for fear she would return and he’d have died ... Aubrey did not respond, and Serena glanced sideways at his chiseled profile. His silence made her wonder if she’d told him too intimate a fact about her life. She hadn’t thought so when she spoke. It was true, after all. In her twenty-nine years, she’d barely been beyond the driveway of Blakely Manor, and now, here she was in Africa! Serena looked down in continuing silence as the wagon rocked and bumped along the packed dirt road. Smoky-blue hills, crowned with lacy clouds, rose before them out of the plain. Their beauty stunned her, temporarily relieving her of embarrassment and of Aubrey Darnell’s erotic grip. “Those are the Ngong Hills, are they not?” She’d learned bits of African geography from Baedeker. “That’s correct.” She watched him a moment, waiting for him to expound on the countryside as he had on the city. But he did not. She sighed. Best not to concern herself with the man beside her. Something about him seemed dangerous and secretive, two qualities that unnerved her. She would simply have to avoid him and this maddeningly sensuous effect he seemed to have on her. Turning, she trained her gaze on the scenery unfolding before her, and kept it there.
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Dammit! His prayers had not been answered. Aubrey gripped the reins until his knuckles turned white. Why couldn’t the
photograph have lied? Every single fear he had about meeting Serena Blakely in person was in the process of being realized. From the moment she’d collided with him on the platform, he’d begun to slip into the change. Gritting his teeth, he fought the burning in his endocrine system with every fiber of strength he possessed. The only way to mask the battle going on inside him as he steered the team of mules out of Nairobi was to appear surly. He hated the gruff exterior, but was helpless to change it.
Dammit! Even in her plain, rumpled traveling dress, her face worn from exhaustion, her mere presence stirred wild desire. He shifted slightly in the seat, uncomfortable with the erection that had begun to rise. Her eyes were bluer than the African skies, and her hair, soft and silky, was a deeper gold than any of the treasure in King Solomon’s mines. He imagined the figure underneath that staid, dark blue dress, the creamy flesh and lush breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples. Her scent wafted to his nostrils, a heady aroma of roses mixed with the earthy tang of female musk. A normal man would not have detected the odor she emitted from her secret nest buried under those skirts. But Aubrey wasn’t a normal man. And hadn’t been for nearly eight years. He kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, struggling against the urge to pull the team over and take her. He wanted to taste her, breathe in her musky scent, bury his erection deep inside her. He slapped the reins down on the team a bit too hard, his action causing him to wince inwardly. He sent the mules a silent apology and a promise of extra sugar lumps. Just because there were times when such creatures as these were his prey, meat to tear apart in his jaws, didn’t mean he had to treat them cruelly. Thank God animals couldn’t detect him while still in human form. The poor beasts would have taken off, out of control in their desperation to escape him.
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Aubrey stole a sideways glance at Serena, who faced away from him, staring at the scenery. She sat too close. Not that she meant to. The wagon seat didn’t allow for much distance between them. Her arousal hummed in the air around them. She wanted him. He felt it. Smelled it. His endocrine system churned heatedly, straining against his resistance. The very blood in his veins pumped through him like molten lead, and his heart beat so hard it crashed in his eardrums. Every mile of the twelve between Nairobi and the farm challenged every ounce of his skill of endurance and power of mind. The strain was so great, he wished fervently he could just tell her the truth. She seemed like an empathetic, gentle woman. Perhaps those were qualities he’d sensed in the photograph that had drawn him so powerfully to her. The only one who knew the truth about him was Tanenge, a Kikuyu medicine man whom Aubrey had met passing through a shamba on his travels. Aubrey had been thirty then and had spent the previous eight years in Kenya, hunting. He’d come to escape his memories, to escape the fact that Marys was in her grave because of him. The old man had known just by looking at him, even though, to the untrained eye, Aubrey looked like any other man. Tanenge’s dark eyes with their yellowish whites had pierced right through Aubrey that night. “You’ve had great grief,” Tanenge had said. “Feel pain, or it will come back. You will always be ngatu.” When Aubrey asked what he meant about feeling pain, the old man had waved his hands in a fluttering motion around his face and made a sound like a lion’s roar. Later, when Aubrey had gone back to him, asking for a cure, Tanenge simply repeated what he’d said before. Feel your pain. Eight years later, he still hadn’t been able to do what Tanenge had told him. The guilt was too great and haunted him still. He turned his gaze quickly back to the street. Negotiating the wagon through the peopled streets demanded his attention.
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The town had begun to wane, the clusters of European structures giving way to small, native villages. Miss Blakely was taking it all in, and he was grateful to have to keep his eyes on the dusty road ahead of him. The wonder and sweetness in those blue pools of hers threatened to undo him. If he looked directly at her, they would never reach Hugh’s farm ... They rode in silence. Aubrey didn’t even try to make polite conversation as they entered the foothills and began the upward climb toward the farm. The hot afternoon cooled considerably as they ascended, and the landscape became increasingly lush and green. The dry, grassy plains gave way to groves of trees, rows and rows of them as far as the eye could see. “This is one of your uncle’s groves, Miss Blakely.” Aubrey indicated the endless sea of trees with one large hand. “These are all coffee trees?” “Yes.” “There are so many!” “This is only one grove. Your uncle’s farm is eleven thousand acres altogether. There are many more groves in various stages of growth, not including the nursery.” “My goodness!” The young woman’s blue eyes widened at the stretch of trees, rivaled in expanse only by the endless pale blue sky. “It’s simply exquisite! And the light here! It’s so different from England.” Aubrey clenched his teeth as the sound of her voice touched off another wave of arousal. “Yes, I agree. It’s become home for me.” “How long have you been here, Mr. Darnell?” “Sixteen years.” “Where in England are you from?” “London. Mayfair.” “I suppose London doesn’t afford much opportunity for adventure.”
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His grip tightened on the reins. Thank God they were near the house and he could deposit her and leave. Much longer on this bench next to her and ... The wagon rolled along the dirt road, following the lines of coffee grove until finally turning onto the long drive. Hugh’s low ranch-style house came into view beyond a grove of acacia trees. “How lovely!” Miss Blakely exclaimed as they drew toward the house. A Kikuyu servant was outside, raking a small patch of lawn amidst a grove of acacia trees. When he saw them, he dropped the rake and ran into the house. By the time the wagon bumped and rolled to a stop in front of the massive stone front porch, a collection of servants had assembled to greet the arrival of their guest. Two servants came over and took her trunk and satchel to bring into the house. Aubrey exhaled a sigh of relief, stepped down, and circled in front of the mules to give her a hand down. Her touch burned through his work-roughened skin, and an image of her naked, her body glistening with perspiration, her nipples erect, coursed through his mind. He released her hand as soon as both her feet were on the ground. Several native children, dark-skinned and gangly, came running up to Aubrey, crowding around him with large smiles, some reaching into his pockets and tugging on his sleeves. He loved the totos and had made sure to buy them some candies in an English shop in Nairobi before fetching Miss Blakely. For the first time that day, his face broke a smile, and he reached into his pockets, letting the candies fall into their eager hands. When he looked up, Miss Blakely was watching him. Though fatigue clearly showed on her drawn face, she wore a strange expression, a seeming mixture of wonder and pleasure. Aubrey spoke to the children in Kikuyu, affectionately tweaked the earlobe of one small boy. “This is Serena Blakely,” he told them. “Hugh is her uncle.” The children turned to her and smiled. Their faces glowed with a combination of shyness and curiosity.
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“Hello,” Miss Blakely said to them. “I’m pleased to meet you.” They giggled and stood, watching her. Aubrey turned and took a step toward her. “I’m going to show Miss Blakely the house. You go play.” “Yes, Aubrey,” the oldest boy said, leading the rest of the children away with their candies. Aubrey turned to his guest, who watched the totos’ playful retreat. “Come. I’ll show you in.” He introduced her to the servants, including the white-turbaned Somali cook, Kamar, a tall stately man who bowed to Miss Blakely with great dignity. Aubrey watched Hugh’s niece greet each servant affably and graciously. Behind his shield of gruffness, he admired the grace and fluidity of her movements and the charm of her smile. She had an honest, wide-eyed way of looking out onto the world that stirred his own long-slumbering enthusiasm. She was the first woman he’d met since losing Marys to rouse such longing within him. He led Miss Blakely onto the wide porch, into the dark coolness of the stone house, a cozy structure of rooms filled with overstuffed leather couches and chairs, antiques, and animal heads hanging on the walls on either side of a huge stone fireplace. He stood silently in the doorway, watching her as she entered the living space and wandered about the room, examining Hugh’s photographs of family and previous hunting competitions. He felt a pang in his heart for her when she winced visibly at the stuffed heads of Hugh’s prizes, in particular, his Bengal Tiger from a successful expedition in India. “That one had been attacking families,” he said quietly, hoping to take away the sting. She glanced briefly at him. Though she smiled, he saw the distress in her blue eyes. Her turn of the room brought her to the fireplace mantel that held her photograph. Or more precisely, the photograph. She perched her gloved fingers delicately on its edge as she looked.
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“I hope you like it here,” Aubrey heard himself say. The pressure of the change was building again within him, and he had to get away from her before his bodily systems began to shift. The lymph glands were always the first. He knew about them from the medical books he’d been studying in his quest for a cure. As the familiar burning sensations began, he longed for the safety of the nursery. Seedling coffee trees did not affect him the way this woman did. Serena turned at the sound of his voice. The blue in her eyes smoldered, half-hidden by long lashes. He prayed that their smoldering appearance was exhaustion and not from the dark energy of lust humming through the room. “Thank you, Mr. Darnell. And thank you for fetching me.” Aubrey tipped his hat to her. He didn’t dare shake her hand again. “Your uncle should return by supper. Kamar will show you your room. I’ll ask him to bring you tea.” “You’re very kind,” she said. He detected a trace of disappointment curving the corners of her lips downward. Perhaps after her long journey she wanted company. It couldn’t be his. God help both of them if he stayed. His blood sang in his ears in its heated travel through his body, especially to his groin. “Good day, Miss Blakely,” he muttered. “Good day.” Her voice caressed him. His cock tightened. He turned, feeling her blue gaze on him until he was completely out of her presence.
***** Alone in her bedroom, Serena released a deep sigh, mostly of relief. The erotic tension she’d experienced in Aubrey Darnell’s presence had unsettled her deeply. In mere moments, she’d gone from three years of numbness to a tidal wave of arousal ripping open the intimate places of her body.
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She unpinned her hat and pulled off her gloves, setting them on the bed. Shrugging out of her duster, she laid that, too, across the bed and wandered about her bedroom. The floor was of cool, dark parquet, covered in the center with a leopard-skin rug. For furniture, there was a white dressing table and matching armoire with full-length mirror. A gauzy lace bedspread covered the side bed with carved white headboard. Sheer white curtain panels filtered the sunlight through the French doors and windows. Under one window was a seating area with a damask-cushioned loveseat and matching chair. She wandered to the French doors and pulled the curtain aside. Her bedroom faced on the back terrace beyond which was a lawn studded with groves of eucalyptus and acacia trees. In the distance she saw a cottage, a miniature version of the main house. The scene was breathtaking and peaceful at the same time. She smiled. Uncle Hugh had impeccable taste and had spared no expense to make his African home as magnificent in its own way as Blakely Manor back in Surrey. “Theo, I’m here,” she whispered as she gazed out at the manicured lawn and contrasting tangles of trees. A knock came at her bedroom door. She opened it to a servant bearing a tray with tea service. She thanked him as he set it on the table in the sitting area, bowed to her, and left. She locked the door after him and began to undress. She stripped down to her camisole, drawers, and stockings, grateful to shed the corset that made breathing difficult in this hotter climate. She went to the seating area and poured herself a cup of tea, reclining with her cup and saucer in hand. Aubrey Darnell had followed through and made certain she had the tea she’d wanted. For some reason, this thought resonated strongly through her, as if he would have ordered it for a reason other than courtesy to his friend’s niece. Sudden discomfort snaked through her heart when she realized she wanted to matter to him. To someone. To a man. As she’d mattered to Theo. She sighed deeply and took a sip of her tea. Perhaps Theo had known somehow that she would come to life again. But would he have guessed that she’d
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meet someone and immediately find her intimate juices flowing and churning and her mind picturing him naked, on top of her, impaling her with his erection? Perhaps not. Theo had never gotten quite so specific with his thoughts. One thing was clear, however: Theo had loved her. He hadn’t wanted her to die with him. As she sipped her tea, her thoughts wandered back to her meeting with Aubrey Darnell and her reaction to his raw, powerful masculinity. Remembering that broad chest blocking out anything else from view, the sinewy forearms dusted with dark hair, and the strong chiseled face and captivating hazel eyes. The mere memory of him touched off the pulsing between her thighs. She tried to turn her thoughts elsewhere, but couldn’t. She set down her cup and saucer and lay back against the cushions, imagining her hands undoing the buttons of his shirt, then caressing the powerful muscles, her fingertips raking through silky dark hair on his chest and taut stomach. Her imaginings gripped her like a fever, heat flushing in her womb, spreading through her entire body. Her nipples tingled mercilessly, aching for the touch of those large hands. She imagined her bare breasts under his hungry gaze, his hands splayed on her back, lifting her arched body upward, closing his masculine lips over her nipples, suckling one to a hard peak, then the other. Driven to a frenzy, Serena slipped her hand into her drawers, desperate for release. Her fingertips found the sensitive, aching nub between the folds of her sex and rubbed it lightly but vigorously, her mind full of Aubrey Darnell’s magnificent physique, naked, couched between her thighs, pulling him deep inside of her. For sure, he’d be large, stretching her open, filling her with hard, thick manhood. With her other hand, she squeezed her nipple between her fingertips, sending jolts of heat down between her thighs. In moments, the muscles contracted, waves of pleasure rippling through her womb. She wilted against the cushions, satisfied, her chest rising and falling heavily. The erotic images subsided, leaving her relaxed. She closed her eyes, enjoying
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the caress of the soft, warm breeze that wafted through the open window. In the wake of her release, a tendril of guilt wound its way through her heart. For the first time in three years, she had not fantasized about Theo when she pleasured herself. Her mind and body had been filled with desire for Aubrey Darnell, a man she’d just met.
***** Aubrey had dreaded the evening meal the entire afternoon. He had no way out of it, either. Hugh was expecting him, and he felt obliged. Serena and her uncle were waiting in the living room by the fire when he walked in. Hugh jumped up from his leather wingback chair, a glass of Scotch in one large hand. “Aubrey, my boy! Come in! Have a drink. You know my niece, of course. Damn good of you to fetch her the way you did.” Aubrey managed a smile as he shook Hugh’s proffered hand. “It was my privilege,” he replied in a soft yet controlled tone. As he spoke, he steeled himself to look at her. Etiquette demanded he at least give her hand a brief handshake. That wildly feminine musk she emitted filled the room, making him heady. “Hello, Miss ...” He paused just a moment upon looking at her. The photograph had come to life. That same porcelain skin, the fair hair swept up with seductive wisps resting on her cheeks. A cameo brooch touched the base of her delicate pale throat just visible above the high neckline of her creamy blouse. An ornately crocheted shawl lay draped over her shoulders. In one fluid movement, a graceful hand came up, toward him. Her beauty was gentle and graceful, yet underneath, he could smell her desire, the scent of raw female sex. As their hands touched, he saw her in his mind, naked, open, her hips writhing with his movements. Her moans filled his ears. Her delicate fingers curled into his hair ... “Miss Blakely.”
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“Hello, Mr. Darnell.” Her blue eyes were tentative on him, as if she were a bit afraid of him. He unsettled her, without a doubt. Certainly, the finely bred niece of an earl would probably fear her deep passions. Or perhaps it was simply his behavior this afternoon. He winced with the memory of his brusque welcome to her on the platform. He hadn’t been much kinder to her than he had been to his team of mules. Only now, he couldn’t promise Hugh’s niece extra rations of oats to make up to her. “Come, Aubrey,” Hugh bellowed. “Sit!” He went to a cart against the wall where a small table held a decanter of Scotch. He poured some in a glass, which he handed to Aubrey. Hugh raised his glass. “To my niece,” he toasted. “Thank God she is here, alive and well.” “Hear, hear,” Aubrey said, politely clinking his glass to Hugh’s and Serena’s. He sipped sparingly, lest the strong drink loosen his tight self-control. After the toast, Hugh led them to the dining room, where Kamar was placing steaming serving dishes on a table covered in white cloth. A bowl of fresh white gladiolas rested in the center, between two glowing candles. Aubrey pulled out Serena’s seat for her, and she thanked him as she settled herself. He went to his own chair. “So, Aubrey!” Hugh began as he seated himself. “What do you say we show Serena the real Africa? We haven’t been on safari for ages. I’ve yet to catch that damned lion! The wily bugger!” Aubrey cleared his throat as he spread a linen napkin across his lap. “We’ve been busy with the farm. And as for the Great Lion, well, I think he does not wish to be caught.”
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Hugh snorted. “Humbug! The sooner he’s caught, the sooner he can stop worrying about hunters! And as for the farm, it’s going well, thank God. We can take a few weeks on the plains. I won’t let Serena come all this way without her experiencing the thrill.” Aubrey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m afraid I can’t ...” “Nonsense! I won’t let you stay here alone. You, Aubrey, the great adventurer. Ridiculous!” Hugh turned to Serena. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s a homebody. This chap’s been hunting with the great Allan Quatermain himself! Aubrey here is one of the greatest trackers in all of Kenya. Can sniff a lion ten miles away. Damned impressive!” He snorted. “Stay here alone, indeed.” Aubrey heard Serena chuckle. The sound washed through him like a gentle rain. When he turned in her direction, she was looking at him with humor dancing in her eyes. “I think you’d better come along, Mr. Darnell.” Aubrey gave a relenting smile as Kamar served him his dish of roasted pheasant and potatoes. “Yes, I suppose so.” “What do you think, Kamar?” Hugh turned to the tall, turbaned man who was quietly making up the plates. “Safari, yes, Sabu,” Kamar answered. His tone was as dignified as his movements and appearance. “But Great Lion, no. The Kikuyu say he is ngatu, Sabu. Not lion. Not man. But both.” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Hugh shook his white head. “I say! A lion that can change into a man, then back again! Of all the balderdash!” He turned to Aubrey. “Do you believe this nonsense?” Aubrey cleared his throat. A chilling sweat broke out suddenly in the palms of his hands. He put down his knife and fork, feeling Serena’s eyes on him. “I believe it’s possible, yes. There have been witnesses. The Kikuyu are not given to lying or flights of imagination.”
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Hugh took a large sip of his wine. “I’m certain my niece didn’t travel all this way to be told not to go on this hunt!” “Actually, Uncle Hugh,” Serena cut in, “I don’t wish to shoot anything. You know me.” Aubrey saw her look down briefly. Sadness filled her delicate face. “It was Theo who wanted it so much.” Aubrey watched her a moment longer. Her pale cheeks flushed from the wine. Her engaging blue eyes appeared more languid, and he could hear her heart beating in his own ears. He gritted his teeth as a pull yanked his gut. The change was gathering quickly, threatening to hurtle him into that nether region of physical existence between animal and human. He felt his lymphatic system shifting. That was just the beginning. If he stayed much longer, he would end up serving Hugh his Great Lion right here at the supper table. “Yes,” Hugh said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “Dear Theo.” He reached out and covered Serena’s hand, which rested on the white tablecloth. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’ll try to be more sensitive.” Quickly Aubrey pulled his gaze from Serena to Hugh, whose expression had turned sympathetic at the mention of Theo, then back to Serena. She’d obviously loved this man he’d never met and never would meet. Hugh had told him that she had nursed him until his death. Aubrey looked down at his plate, in the sudden grip of an urge to pick up his portion of pheasant and rip it apart in his jaws. His panic mounted. As if it weren’t difficult enough, something was happening in Serena. He felt the movement in her. Something in her heart that traveled downward, through her gut and into her womb. Maybe it was the wine she’d drunk, or maybe the memory of this man she’d loved. Then he realized the truth -- she was aroused. The tangy, wild scent of her musk filled his nostrils. The need to possess her engulfed him, and he battled the feral impulses to grab her and drag her onto the floor. In that moment, he understood. The photograph. His ...
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well ... for lack of a better word ... obsession with it. For three years he’d questioned his fixation, his inability to enter that room without crossing over to the photograph and staring at it as if it held the answer to some deep secret about life. Now, he knew. The answer was so simple. She was his mate. He stood up so quickly, he almost knocked down his chair. Two pairs of eyes were on him immediately. “I’m ... I’m sorry ...” he began, cut off by the racing of his heart and the wild heat rippling through his entire body. All he saw next was the doorway, and then he felt the relief of the night air rushing into his lungs as he burst out onto the porch. He ran, sucking in great lungfuls of blessed fresh air. A dog barked somewhere in the distance as he ran, his large, strong body cutting through the night, ducking between the trees in the acacia grove between his dwelling and the main house. He didn’t stop until he’d reached his cottage. He didn’t breathe again until he’d closed the door behind him.
Serena stared after him, shocked from her sensuous languor by Aubrey’s abrupt departure. She looked at her uncle, but he was still watching the doorway, as if Aubrey had left a trail of smoke in his wake. He shook his head. “Poor fellow. Hasn’t been himself lately. I was thinking a safari might do him good. A man who’s had the adventures he’s had doesn’t do well sitting in one place like this. Especially on a coffee farm. Very routine.” He turned to Serena. “I never did understand why he stays here the way he does. Don’t get me wrong, I want him here.” He looked at his wineglass, a thoughtful expression on his large features. “Ah, well, we all have our idiosyncrasies.” Serena let out a sigh. “I thought maybe I’d said something wrong.”
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Hugh shook his head. “Dear Serena. You always did feel responsible for everyone’s happiness, didn’t you? No. You’ve been nothing but charming.” Serena gave her uncle a tired smile, and they ate their meal in companionable silence. Aubrey’s presence at the table had stirred her senses, brought her body alive as it had been earlier in the wagon. When he’d jumped up and ran out, the suddenness had cut off her languor. Now, thinking of him again, it returned. When her plate was empty, Serena lifted her wineglass to her lips and drained out the last sip. “Uncle Hugh,” she said when she’d set down her glass, “I’m very tired. I think I’ll go to my room.” Hugh raised his thick gray eyebrows. “No coffee or a glass of port by the fire first?” Serena smiled, feeling her weariness saturate her body. She patted his hand. “Not tonight, Uncle. I’m very grateful to you for having me here. I’m just exhausted.” Hugh stood and offered to pull out her chair for her. He kissed her cheek. “Good night, my dear. Tomorrow I’ll show you the farm.” “I’d like that.” Serena squeezed her uncle’s hand and went into her room. Closing the door behind her, Serena gazed on the cozy little bedroom that Hugh had prepared for her. One look at the four-posted bed and she envisioned herself, naked, her legs spread wide, Aubrey’s muscular body nestled between them, his erection deep inside her, his hands covering her breasts. What was happening to her? She sighed as she removed her shawl, then unpinned her hair. The image of Aubrey Darnell making his swift escape from the dining room replaced the erotic image in her mind. Up until then, she’d been enjoying his company in spite of his seemingly taciturn nature. The way he’d been with the children earlier had touched her, especially when she saw in their eyes how much they loved him. Seeing that side of him had only added to his physical beauty. She hadn’t met a man who had the effect on her he did since she lost Theo ...
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A wave of guilt washed through Serena as she sat down at her dressing table and brushed out her long hair. She hadn’t experienced guilt before in the past three years, because she hadn’t met anyone whom she wished even to touch her hand, never mind to possess her body, to do anything and everything he wanted, the way she wished Aubrey Darnell to. And now this. She’d had to force herself not to stare at him this evening. He hadn’t been wearing his hat at the supper table, affording her a clear view of the hair she couldn’t see earlier when he’d fetched her at the train. His hair was thick and luxurious and made her fingers ache to lose themselves in its abundance. He’d combed it back, but it reached down below his collar, and enticing locks of it fell about his forehead and cheeks, giving him a, well, leonine appearance. And then there was that little detail about how she wanted to lie naked underneath him and feel him buried deep inside her, possessing her. She’d been completely unprepared for this reaction to him. At the time, she’d believed her desire to be the result of having gone so long without intimacy. However, she’d met some handsome men in the past three years and had not felt even remotely as she had today. No. Her reaction to Aubrey Darnell was visceral, basic, feral. The intensity of it frightened her and yet made her feel more alive than she had in so very long. The only problem was, he always seemed very anxious to be out of her company. She sighed as she ran the brush down the length of her hair. Staring at her reflection, she wondered exactly what it was about her that repelled him so. And then she wondered why she cared at all what the man thought of her. The last man whose opinion of her had mattered was Theo.
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In his bedroom, Aubrey yanked off his tie, shrugged furiously out of his jacket, and ripped his shirt, hearing the buttons clatter on the parquet floor. His pants and socks nearly ended up in shreds as he ripped them from his body. He threw open the trunk where he kept the powder Tanenge had given him. The chalky stuff was supposed to keep him balanced, to lessen the frequency and intensity of the transformation. To keep him human. It had worked at first, mostly, but had grown less and less effective as time passed. He sprinkled some on his tongue and waited. Nothing happened. The burning in his veins and organs only increased.
Useless shite! He threw the vial back into the trunk and staggered over to his bureau, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The feline glints of gold now speckled his irises. The pupils had begun their metamorphosis from round to diamond-shaped. His beard now sprouted dark and heavy from his cheeks and jaw as if he hadn’t shaved in several months. His hair, too, had begun its lengthening, rioting wildly about his forehead and ears. Still staggering, he made his way to the main room to his phonograph player, cranked it, and set the needle down. In a moment, the opera music wafted from the swirling disk, drowning out the mad pulsing of his blood in his ears. Taking several deep breaths, he went to the window and peered out, across the porch, through the acacia grove. He leaned heavily on the sill as the changes gurgled and pulsed in his body. The transformation was torturously slow, sometimes lasting for hours. He had endured this change nearly every night for the past eight years. It had become unbearable, but he had yet to find a cure. A pair of French doors leading to Serena’s bedroom was just visible through the trees. Her light was on, and a shadow of her form passed across the gauzy drapes. A flood of heated desire coursed through his loins. The grip of lust immobilized him. No matter how deeply he breathed or fought for control, the force was beyond him.
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In one swift movement, he sprang through the window, landing on the porch in a crouch. He waited, as the night breeze wafted around his bare flesh. Slowly, he unfolded his body to his full height and padded off the porch, stepping soundlessly onto the grass and sand of the small front yard, into the grove of acacias. Behind one of the tree trunks, he stopped, peering around to the lighted room in the distance as the music continued to emanate from the phonograph player in his cottage. Every nerve, every sinew in his body tightened, coiled, twitching in anticipation. One hand gripped the trunk of the tree, as if it could hold him back. Waiting for her light to go out so he could make his way into the room was torture.
Serena felt the tingle again spring to life between her thighs. Unbidden, the image of Aubrey holding her invaded her mind again. One large hand cupped her breast, squeezing gently, brushing her nipple with ardent fingertips before it ventured downward, past her thatch of tawny pubic curls. As she melted and opened under his hands, he slid several fingertips between her woman’s lips, rubbing the moist, hot flesh of her desire ... Serena shook herself from her erotic reverie and went to her trunk for her nightgown. She’d fallen asleep earlier before supper and hadn’t unpacked yet. She opened the trunk and lifted out her music books. Uncle Hugh had a pianoforte and had insisted she bring Mozart and Beethoven with her. Underneath was her nightgown. She pulled it out and continued to undress, grateful for the rush of air into her lungs when she undid her corset. Serena changed into her nightgown. She knelt at the bedside to say her prayers. As she finished, a gentle breeze rustled the curtains in her window, bringing with it the sound of music playing in the distance. The sound intrigued her, and she rose, put on her wrap, and went out through the French doors in her bare feet. The night was chilly but clear, and silent except for the crickets, the sky dotted with pinpoints of stars. Serena pulled her wrap tightly around her and gazed off in the direction of
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the acacia grove where she’d seen Aubrey’s cottage earlier. She could make out the outline of the stone dwelling in the moonlight, but otherwise it was dark, indicating he’d already gone to bed. The music, obviously on a phonograph, seemed to emanate from the shadows of the cottage. Serena recognized the music. It was an aria from “Gianni Schicchi” by Puccini. “O Mio
babbino caro, mi piace bella bella ...” The sad, sweet lyrics drifted into the still clear air. “Vo’andare in Porta Rosa, A comperar la nello ...” She closed her eyes and listened to the enchanting melody waft through the night air, through the dark grove of acacias. She’d seen the aria performed in London, on one of her only journeys there. The song was a woman’s lament about not being able to be with her lover. She’d rather die than betray her heart. Serena thought of Theo. She was doing a terrible job keeping her promises to him. Three years after his death, she’d finally gathered the courage and strength to make the journey to Africa, but the thought of hunting made her stomach churn. And as for finding love ... “I’ll try, Theo,” she whispered into the night as the music swirled into her ears and down into her heart. “I will try.” Suddenly, she wasn’t alone. Someone was nearby, watching her. She felt a presence as strongly as if whoever it was were standing in front of her. She scanned the darkness, but saw only the moonlit shapes of trees. Yet, the feeling of eyes on her was unmistakable. Energy sizzled in the air, which was filling with a musky aroma, the likes of which she’d never smelled. Serena froze even as the heady scent filled her and coaxed her body into sensual life. Her nipples tingled pleasurably as if being caressed, and the pulsing began again between her thighs where she felt her cleft swelling, gathering musk, desiring the hot thrust of a man’s erection. More specifically, Aubrey’s.
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Serena caught her breath. In spite of the languid yearning, she became terrified, frightened of this unseen force that stirred her desire so deeply and so completely. Her first night in this strange wild land was having strange effects on her. Quickly, she retreated to her room, closing the French doors behind her.
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Chapter Three
Shakespeare smelled so odd! Serena leaned forward to sniff her tabby’s coat as she pet him. His orange fur was musky, as if he’d been out in the woods, hunting mice. A breeze wafted in through the open window where she sat with Shakespeare curled up on her lap, purring. Serena looked out onto the rolling green of the Surrey countryside, then back down at her cat. The vibration of his purr was so strong it thrummed through her. How strange! And that scent! It grew stronger, headier with each stroke of her hand down Shakespeare’s back. His cat body was so warm on her legs, the heat radiated like a small sun ... Serena’s eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright, her breath coming in short, hard gasps. She looked around her, her eyes not quite focused. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She’d run in and buried herself in the goosedown bedding, waiting to see what happened. When nothing had, her fear subsided. She’d told herself her mind was muzzy from traveling and being in this drastically alien environment. When exhaustion overcame her, she’d succumbed.
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Something creaked, snapping her gaze to the French doors. They were standing open, the soft white curtains wafting in a breeze. Her heart thumped painfully, and she began to shiver. She’d closed those doors before getting into bed. A shadow loomed over her, and she yelped softly, scrambling back against the headboard. A man, with dark gold hair full and long like a lion’s mane, appeared as if from a whisper, his large, powerful body hovering over hers. A full, soft beard, equally silky and wild, covered his cheeks and jaw, and his eyes glinted like a cat’s in the shadows. They were greener than emeralds, flecked with gold, their gaze burning into hers. In spite of her fear, Serena found herself captured by the glittering jewels. He was so close that Serena could feel the heat rising from him. His breath caressed the skin of her face, and tension quivered through his taut, sinewy muscles. He seemed ready to pounce on her. She stared back, equally tensed. His scent, musky and wild, was unlike any other she’d ever experienced. In spite of her fear, she began to melt, as she had earlier on the terrace. “Who are you?” Serena whispered over the vibration that seemed to emanate from his core. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he was purring! He continued to stare at her, that strange thrum filling her senses, blending with her own heartbeat. Under his hypnotic gaze, the tension in her body drained. A primal throbbing took over between her thighs, and her breathing became ragged. Desire blazed, making ashes of her fear. She knew that whatever this man wanted, she would give. She saw him inching his way closer to the edge of the bed. He moved cautiously, like a cat stalking a mouse, until he reached the bedside and crouched. “Who are you?” she whispered again, although she did not expect an answer. She didn’t know if he even understood.
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In one light, swift motion, he sprang up, perching his large, muscled body on the edge of the mattress. His shoulders and chest were broad, and his arms and torso rippled with quivering muscles. And he was naked. Serena’s eyes had adjusted to the shadowy light, and she could see his entire body. His thighs were long with hard muscle. His waist tapered into slim hips and round, hard buttocks. When he moved, she saw his cock, long and hard, springing upward from a nest of dark hair. She caught her breath at the sight. Suddenly, he was over her, his large hands pushed into the pillow on either side of her head. He lowered his face closer and closer. His eyes glittered into hers. The spellbinding purr that emanated from him vibrated through Serena. Her eyes fluttered closed as the sensation caressed her breasts and the swelling, musky flesh of her vaginal cleft. Her breasts heaved with her ragged breaths, and her skin dampened with perspiration inspired by the heat of his body so close to hers. Gently, with a whispery light touch, he nudged her, just like a cat, with his forehead against her cheek. The movement sent a wave of pleasure rippling through her, and she instinctively parted her legs, wanting his large, strong body between them. He nudged her again, this time with a longer stroke, up one cheek, into her hair. Serena moaned softly, sinking back into the soft mattress, her body languorous, her vagina swollen with desire, wet and open. The movement of her body had caused her nightgown to slide upward and gather around her waist. She heard his sharp intake of breath as one large hand settled on her thigh, the fingertips sliding slowly upward, toward her pubic mound. Serena tilted her head back, her hands grabbing up the sheets in fistfuls as his fingertips raked lightly through her mound of tawny curls and grazed her vaginal lips. The mere brush of his fingertips along her moist slit was intoxicating.
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He slipped his fingers down into her musky wetness, massaging the swollen ridges and folds of intimate flesh with light, swift strokes. Serena gasped at the intense pleasure, the delicious heat of his touch, and spread her legs further apart as he filled her sheath with his large fingers, stretching her, opening her. He lowered his face down to her open crotch, causing her to moan softly when his lips made contact. He nuzzled the soft, fleshy lips, causing her to gasp with pleasure when he ran the tip of his tongue along her slit. Serena gasped at the sheer, unutterable bliss from the heat of his tongue and involuntarily arched her pelvis upward against his mouth, silently begging him for more. He seemed to understand her need and responded by gently spreading open her vaginal lips. His breath was hot on the slick pink flesh, and Serena’s heart pounded furiously in her chest, her arousal mounting to a fever pitch as he began to lap at her swollen clit like a cat with a bowl of milk. She writhed in delight and reached down with one hand to entwine her fingers in his hair. He slid two large fingers into her, moving them in and out while he suckled on the engorged nub. Serena lost herself in the delicious friction of his tongue. Theo had done this to her many times and had always made her come within moments. The same was happening now. His hot tongue on her clit and his fingers massaging her wet swollen passage sent her over the edge in a mere few seconds. She arched her hips under his mouth, letting out several soft cries before collapsing. She looked at him where he crouched between her spread thighs. He, too, was watching her, his green-and-gold eyes glinting in the dark with the subtlest movement of his head. The purring sound still emanated from him, and even in the shadowy light, Serena could see the droplets of her musk clinging to his beard. She sat up and reached out her hand to touch his face. He backed off, away from her hand, and crept off the bed, his large body coiling into a crouching position. “What is it?” Serena whispered. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”
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The only response to her question was the purring vibration as it filled the room. A cool breeze wafted in through the open French doors. He sniffed the air. Then, as if alarmed, he turned and ran out the doors. Serena gasped and jumped from the bed, peering into the night from the doorway. Whatever he’d sensed was not visible or audible to her. She waited to see if he’d come back. But he didn’t. Slowly she closed the doors behind her and climbed back into her bed, sorry that he was gone. Not gone, really. For she could feel him even after he’d slipped away into the shadows. His musky scent filled her nostrils. The bliss of his touch still undulated through her, and she needed only to summon the memory of it to feel them. Her body still felt satiated, although her heart and mind were now a riot of confusion and muzziness. What had just happened to her had the most surreal quality, and she wondered if she weren’t truly dreaming, her consciousness trapped by exhaustion between the waking and sleeping worlds. Perhaps her sensual desires, so long unfulfilled and then roused with a vengeance by Aubrey Darnell, had simply played out in her dreaming world. Serena took a long, deep breath as she decided to sleep off her exhaustion and wait for the light of day. Certainly a good night’s rest and a tour of Uncle Hugh’s farm would bring her back into the present. And in the present, there were no magnificent creatures such as the one who had just stolen into her bed and brought her to bliss.
Serena opened her eyes, listening for Theo’s breath next to her in the bed. Even after three years, it always took her several moments to remember he was gone. When her gaze alighted on the French doors, she remembered where she was. Daylight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the French doors. She rubbed her eyes as her mind woke, igniting her memories of the past twenty-four hours. Train station,
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Aubrey Darnell, Uncle Hugh, supper, Aubrey’s flight from the dining room. The aria wafting through the night air from Aubrey’s cottage, the presence she’d felt. The dream. The dream! Serena sat bolt upright. Flashes of it erupted in her mind, sparking her body to life with sensuality. The glowing emerald fires in his eyes, his muscular naked body and large erection. The musky scent he’d carried on his skin and hair, his heavily bearded face between her thighs, tasting her, bringing her to orgasm ... She’d had erotic dreams before, but not one as strange and blissful as last night’s. Nor so very ... real. Serena placed her hand over her heart and warily scanned the small bedroom. Everything was in place. The French doors, which had been open in her dream, remained closed. She sighed with relief. It lasted only a moment, however, as the memories persisted. Rarely did she remember her dreams for more than a moment or two upon waking. This one did not go away. She pushed aside her goosedown comforter and rose from the bed, trying to ignore a nagging discomfort. She went to her dressing table, picked up her brush, and began to untangle her golden hair, unusually snarled, as if she’d moved about on the pillow restlessly during the night. The discomfort stayed with her as she worked out the knots, each tug of her fingers releasing another memory of the catlike man in her dream and the hot caress of his tongue ... “This is ridiculous!” She plunked her hairbrush down in order to gather up her hair, which she pinned swiftly into a bun. She didn’t like how hard she was working to convince herself she’d been dreaming. She went to her trunk and pulled out a fresh white blouse and navy skirt. Her chemise, corset, and petticoat were already on the chair by the bed. I know myself. I certainly
wouldn’t let a strange man creep into my bed and lower his face between my thighs!
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Serena lifted off her nightgown, catching a glimpse of her nude form in her full-length dressing mirror. She stopped, feeling aroused, and yet incredibly uncomfortable in her own skin.
Or would I? She finished dressing, picked up her shawl, and went in search of her uncle. The house was quiet in its dark stone coolness, the only sound the ticking of the tall grandfather clock in the hallway. Serena glanced at its face as she passed, wincing at the late hour. She hated having slept so late. It was nearly noon, and she did not hear her uncle’s loud voice or feel his imposing presence in the house. As she drew closer to the back of the house, the exotic aroma of Indian curry wafted through the hallway. Serena had always loved the spicy, heady aroma of curry and followed the trail of the scent to the kitchens, her own stomach awakening to the need for nourishment. She pushed open the kitchen door and paused. Kamar sat with his back to her at a long wooden table in the center of the room, holding a small book. Serena’s sharp eye caught the Arabic writing on the pages and knew he was reading the Qu’ran, the holy scriptures of the Mussulmans. He turned upon hearing her and rose from his seat, bowing his head. “Good afternoon, Msabu.” Serena stepped into the kitchen, feeling suddenly abashed in the presence of this religious man, as if he could see her dream. “Yes, good afternoon. I was looking for my uncle.” “Wanted that you rest, Msabu. Business in Nairobi. Back by tea.” His deep voice was mellifluous, and though his English sounded broken upon first hearing it, his diction was perfect. “And Mr. Darnell?” “In groves, Msabu. Will come shortly. You have breakfast.”
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Serena smiled past a sudden pang of anticipation. “That would be lovely, thank you.” Kamar went to the huge black wood-burning stove, above which hung an assortment of pans and cooking utensils. A large pot, apparently the source of the curry aroma, simmered on one burner. He set a teakettle on another burner. When he turned and saw Serena, he pointed to the door. “Dining room, Msabu,” he said gently. Serena gave a start, not realizing how the cozy warmth of the kitchen with its curry aroma and peaceful atmosphere had enveloped her attention. She smiled, though inwardly she felt addled. “Thank you.” The dining room faced west onto the lawn and the forest beyond, and in the strangely pale and clear African sunlight, Serena could see its beauty through a pair of French doors. The doors gave out onto a large stone terrace and then lawn. On the far end, a lush border of acacia trees marked a change in the land, which began to slope downward, out of sight. Serena gazed out onto the trees, then to the far end of the lawn where a young boy perched on the grass, watching a herd of goats. Serena watched him before taking her seat, giggling at the sight. Uncle Hugh had mentioned how the goatherds loved to bring their goats to graze on his lawn and then come in and watch his grandfather clock tick and chime the hour. The tinkle of bells and the sound of goats bleating as they grazed carried through the glass. Serena took her place at the long table, already set for her with elegant silver and china. She was engaged in watching the scene outside when Kamar brought in a tray laden with tea service, toast, and coddled eggs. “Where does that slope lead?” Kamar placed her plate on the table. “To river, Msabu. River forms boundary between farm and Masai.” “I see. And what do they do? The Masai, I mean.” “Herd cattle.”
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Kamar picked up the teapot and poured the amber liquid into an elegant china cup. Serena admired the graceful dignity of his movements and the aura of peace he seemed to carry with him. “Thank you, Kamar,” Kamar bowed, tucking the empty silver tray under one arm. “You’re welcome, Msabu.” Serena poured a splash of milk into her tea and took a bite of toast. No sooner had she turned to watch the scene on the lawn again than she saw Aubrey Darnell, dressed as he was the day before, crossing the green expanse. His large strides rapidly closed the distance to the house. Serena caught her breath and quickly wiped her mouth with her napkin. The same overwhelming carnal desire spread through her entire body as it had the day before. The muscles of his chest strained against his shirt as he moved, sending intense ripples of heat between her thighs. Her breasts strained against her corset, and her nipples tingled with the desire for his mouth and tongue to caress them. The sensations were raw, elemental, from a place that no words could describe. She looked down at her plate, taking in several deep breaths. Why did the sight of that man affect her like this? She’d only met him the day before! She could not explain it. Yes, he was handsome, an adventurer with daring and courage. He emanated a sort of inner power. But still, she thought of herself as someone who took a long time to fall in love. She and Theo had been friends their whole lives. This ... animal attraction, for lack of a better word, was inexplicable. She struggled to stop her hand from shaking as she picked up her teacup, feeling suddenly very guilty about Theo. Yes, he’d made her promise to find someone she felt she could love, so really she shouldn’t feel this way. Really, she should feel guilty that she hadn’t fulfilled her promise. Until now.
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“Serena, stop it!” she whispered, seeing Aubrey crossing the terrace out of the corner of her eye. Her heart slammed in her chest. In only moments, he would be in this very room ...
Bollocks! Aubrey’s heart pounded as he strode across the lawn toward the house. He could see her through the dining room window, a teacup raised to her lips. Slowing his stride, he considered turning and heading in the direction of the stables. But she had already seen him, and he had been rude enough to her the day before. The least he could do was make an attempt to be civil, even though the mere sight of her had already sparked the changes in his adrenal glands. As he neared the terrace, his heart crashed in his chest. She was practically at arm’s length now. He took a deep breath. He could still taste her. The flavor and aroma of her musk had clung to him long after he’d fled from her bedroom and completed the change. Nothing had ever tasted as succulent as that forbidden region between her thighs. And the sounds of her pleasure cries echoed in his mind. He had wanted to possess her completely. After making love to her with his mouth, he’d wanted to do the same with his erection. She’d wanted him to. Her body had fallen open before him, pliant and soft, delicious under his tongue. But the change had accelerated just at that moment. When he had gone to her, he was still completely a man, though unrecognizable as Aubrey. Had he stayed longer, she would have seen the interim creature, not quite human, not quite beast. Fangs sprouting, his entire body covered with fur, growth of the tail, sprouting of enormous feline claws. He was a sight he wouldn’t have wished even on someone he despised. So he ran. And spent the rest of the night until dawn out on the plain on the other side of the river with a pride of lions that roamed the area. Unfortunately, once there, he’d also dined on one of the Masai’s cattle by moonlight. Well, tore to shreds was the correct phrasing. The poor creature hadn’t had a chance to run,
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he’d moved with such quiet stealth. He’d pounced on it, grabbed it by the jugular, clawing and ripping the hapless beast open with his jaws while its fellows stampeded away in fright. One of the herders would certainly be up to the house today to ask him or Hugh to hunt down the offender. He would make sure to go himself. There were other lions in the area around Masai territory, and he didn’t want one of them to pay for his sins. Just then, the goatherd, Kamante, saw him and sprang to his feet. He trailed after Aubrey, eager to come into the house and watch the grandfather clock in the front hall. Several of the young Kikuyu were fascinated by the strange ticking and movement of the timepiece, and derived special enjoyment from the gong it sounded each hour. The French doors were unlocked, as always, and he went in, Kamante at his heels. The young goatherd greeted Serena politely, then rushed through the dining room to the foyer. Aubrey removed his hat and stood in the doorway, unable to proceed into the room. The scent of her musk filled the entire space with its earthen tang. His heart crashed, and his hands trembled around the brim of his hat. He sensed that she was wet and open underneath her skirts and cursed his feline senses. “Good afternoon, Miss Blakely.” He fought back the nervous quaver threatening his voice. Serena had set down her cup and turned, causing his heart to leap. As it had been yesterday, her wheat-colored hair was swept up off her face, giving him full view of her doelike eyes. God, was she beautiful! She looked so innocent, and yet he remembered her passion of the night before, the way she had fallen open underneath his tongue. How she’d moaned and writhed her hips. How could such innocence and such passion exist in the same woman? “Hello, Mr. Darnell.” Her soft voice had a slight tremor. Her desire pulsed like a living heart between them.
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His back muscles quivered as he restrained himself from pouncing on her and stepped cautiously into the room. “I ... mean to ... apologize for last night. I was feeling unwell.” She frowned. Concern clouded her eyes. “And are you better today?” “Yes, better. Thank you. And yourself?” He stood with his hand resting on the back of an empty chair. He noticed her breakfast was only half-eaten. “I’m well, thank you.” She smiled a bit sheepishly. “I slept quite late. Would you like some tea?” Aubrey’s palms broke out in a sweat, and his blood coursed like a river of molten heat. He cast about rapidly for possible excuses to leave the room immediately, but all that blood pounding through him had apparently leached from his brain and he could think of nothing. His conscience would not let him bolt again, either. God be praised that he wasn’t as far along in the change as he’d been the evening before. Strange. He pulled out his chair. “Yes. That would be quite nice, actually.” He seated himself, placing his hat on the table at an empty place. Serena picked up a small bell next to her plate and rang it delicately. Kamar came in presently, and Serena asked him for a cup for Mr. Darnell. The servant nodded and bowed, going to the china cabinet at the far end of the room. He came back, set the cup in front of Aubrey, and poured him tea. “Masai was here this morning, Sabu,” he said as he set the teapot back down. “Lion came last night. Ate a cow.” Aubrey nodded, concealing the cold prickle that invaded his skin. “I’ll go this afternoon.” Kamar bowed and left the room. Aubrey dropped two lumps of sugar into his tea, staring down as he stirred. He felt Serena’s eyes on him. “Are you going to shoot it?” she asked softly.
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His head shot up at the sound of distress in her voice. “No.” He looked directly into her eyes. His heart surged at the relief he saw in them. “Then what will you do?” She tapped absently at her egg with a teaspoon. He glanced down at her elegant hands as he searched his mind for an answer. Certainly he couldn’t say, “Well, I’m the lion they want killed. I’ll just tell myself to go away.” No. None of the intellectual training he had received at Oxford all those years ago had prepared him to answer such a question. “I’ll go down there and hope that when the creature sees a man with a rifle in hand, he’ll understand the danger of staying in this region.” He winced inwardly at the lame response. “Mr. Darnell, may I ... go with you? I should like to see the lions.” At the sound of the barely suppressed fervor in her voice, he looked up. What he saw caused his heart to leap in his chest. Enthusiasm glistened in her eyes and shimmered through her soft features, making her so pretty that he ached. He wanted her with him.
Damn! “Yes.” He knew he should have said he meant for tea later. She smiled. “Oh, thank you. I suppose I should finish this breakfast first. It will be a while before tea.” Aubrey drained his teacup and stood up. “Yes. Take your time.” He stood up and replaced his hat. “Do you ride horseback, Miss Blakely? It’s really the best way to get around on the plain.” She nodded. “Yes. I rode before I could walk, actually. Not to boast. It’s just that my father was an avid equestrian. He trained me.” She paused, and a delicate hand went to her heart. “Forgive me. I’m babbling. I have breeches. No need for a sidesaddle.” Aubrey nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. His groin tightened almost painfully, and the familiar tingling played about the edges of all his bodily systems. He could handle that, as long as the fur, fangs, and claws remained at bay. At least until he could be alone. He
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fought off the images assaulting his mind of undergoing the change out on the savannah while Serena watched, helpless and afraid. “I’ll meet you out front.” He turned, gritting his teeth as he strode out the door and began walking. The stables were a significant distance from the house, and Aubrey berated himself the entire way.
Stupid sod! How could you be so weak? However, by the time the paddocks came into view, he had calmed down a bit. After all, he could no more have refused Serena than he could have pulled the sun from the sky. Not after he’d seen her smile that way. Not after he’d smelled the musk that emanated from her feminine core. Especially now that he’d tasted her, felt her writhe under his mouth, and seen every inch of her deliciously feminine body. All he could do now was pray for self-control.
Serena watched him go. She couldn’t believe how handsome he was, so tall and strong, his thigh muscles and buttocks bulging through his breeches. One fantastic image after the next rose in her mind. Aubrey grasping her and pulling her to him, ripping open her blouse and corset, taking her nipples and suckling them greedily while he hiked up her skirts and yanked down her drawers. A deep breath shuddered through her as she watched his long, purposeful strides cut through the herd of grazing goats on her uncle’s lawn. She forced herself to finish her breakfast, lest she become hungry later and embarrass herself when her stomach growled. Then she went to her room to change into her breeches and riding boots. Aubrey was waiting for her in the drive, a rifle slung on one shoulder, and holding the reins of two horses, a tall bay and a speckled gray mare. When Serena approached him, he handed her the mare’s reins. In the palm of her gloved hand, Serena held out a lump of sugar she’d taken from the dining table. The mare snuffled at it before sweeping it up and chewing contentedly. She
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smiled and petted the mare’s muzzle. When she looked up, she caught Aubrey watching her with a wistful expression, as if she reminded him of something or someone. His hazel eyes had softened considerably since yesterday, and her pulse quickened under his gaze. She glanced back at the mare. “She’s very sweet. Does she have a name?” “Ariel.” Serena looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. “From Shakespeare?” She watched the corners of Aubrey’s lips rise in a smile, catching a glimpse of strong white teeth behind his sensual lips. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was warming to her. “The
Tempest,” he answered. “I named her.” Serena smiled, though her insides were spinning faster than a wind vane as she gathered the reins in preparation to mount. “Perfect choice.” “Thank you. Do you need a leg up?” Serena felt her knees wobble when he took a step closer. “Um ... Yes, thank you.” She turned to the saddle, placed her hands on pommel and back, and raised her left boot. In two steps, he was standing right behind her. Serena caught her breath, her fingers tightening around the reins. One large, strong hand closed around her knee, while the other cupped her shin, sending a frisson of heat through her entire body. She imagined his hand sliding up her leg and caressing her between her thighs. “Ready?” She exhaled. “Yes.” Effortlessly, he hoisted her up, and she swung her right leg over, settling lightly into the saddle. She looked down into Aubrey’s face. He wore a troubled expression, almost like the one on his face at the supper table last night. Just before he leapt out of the room. “Thank you.” Her voice barely squeaked out in a whisper, causing her to cringe from embarrassment.
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“You’re welcome.” His voice, too, was soft, nearly inaudible. Then he turned and went to mount his horse. Serena busied herself with adjusting the girth and putting her feet into the stirrups. When she’d finished, she looked up at Aubrey, who nodded. “Let’s go, then.” He clucked to his horse, and Serena followed him down the long drive out to the road. On the road, Serena guided her mare at a brisk walk to Aubrey’s side. As she had the day before, she marveled at the new sights and smells, the mimosa trees that lined the road, the way the warm sunlight slanted at an unusual angle, and at the strange paleness of the blue sky. Her already heightened senses were also extremely aware of the man riding next to her. Her hands trembled on the reins, and his silence, though companionable enough, made her nervous. His silence, in fact, invited the most wicked, insatiable curiosity she’d ever experienced. The sensation was nearly as potent as the erotic impulses he aroused in her. “My uncle never told me how you met, Mr. Darnell.” “He hired me some years ago to track for him.” He kept his gaze straight ahead as he spoke. “I tracked for him on and off over the years. When he decided to invest in this farm, he hired me on as foreman.” “It must have been quite a change for you.” “Not an unwelcome one.” “I see. He did mention you’d refused to hunt in recent years.” She glanced at his profile, in time to see a muscle in his jaw twitch. The energy about him tensed, and she sensed there were things he did not wish to say. “He said you’d finally agreed to go on this one.” “Yes. Just for the change of scenery. I’ve barely been off the farm in the last three years.” She nodded, remembering how painfully suffocating Blakely Manor had become without Theo. Tears threatened in her eyes. “I certainly understand that feeling. I imagine
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it’s difficult to feel that way here. I’ve never seen so much open space in all my life.” She spoke as if a constant flow of words would push away the threatening sadness. It would do no good to break down in front of Aubrey Darnell. “The sky appears simply endless.” “Yes, I would agree.” She waited for him to say something further, but he remained silent. “I suppose that’s what brought you here from England,” she went on, unable to stop the torrent of words. Aubrey Darnell made her very, very nervous, among other things. “England is very beautiful, but there are many people in a small space there. Even in the country. Is that why you came to Africa? To have more freedom?” Again, his jaw tightened, and she immediately regretted the question. Theo had often chided her for being so curious about people’s lives. She couldn’t help it. Her experience with him had left her with the constant sense of how little time there was to know people. “I suppose you could say that.” His tone was suddenly heavy and sad. “I’m sorry. If I’m prying, I’ll --” “No. You’re not. It’s all right. I was twenty-two and engaged to be married. She was on her way down to my graduation. There was an accident with the train. She didn’t make it.” “Oh, my. I’m so sorry!” She waited for Aubrey to speak again, but he had fallen silent, his broad, powerful torso swaying gently with the movements of his mount. Serena watched the road ahead, which had begun to slope downward. She could hear the rush of water in the distance. “The river is up ahead, not too far,” Aubrey told her. “There’s a bridge we’ll cross that takes us to the game area. The Masai breed and graze their cattle there.” “I see.” She kept her eyes on the road, feeling so embarrassed she’d have been grateful for the earth to open and swallow her, horse and all. You know better than to pry. She sighed, allowing herself to feel how utterly out of control she was around this man. Something about Aubrey Darnell drew her with such intensity, she felt permanently addled.
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It was as if she could smell the wild streak simmering within that six-foot muscular frame that induced her to a state of inner recklessness. Silence reigned for several moments before Aubrey cleared his throat. “Your sympathy is most kind, Miss Blakely,” he said quietly. “Thank you.” Serena felt so relieved, she almost burst into tears. “You’re welcome.” She glanced at his profile, then back down at the reins in her gloved hands. “If I’m not mistaken,” he went on in a gentle tone, “you’ve suffered a terrible loss yourself.” His words touched off a sudden lump in Serena’s throat, and she squeezed the reins as she swallowed hard. “Yes,” she squeaked out. “I’m sorry as well.” His voice was both quiet and strong, and Serena felt caressed by it. She forced back another rush of tears, even though doing so strained the muscles of her face and jaw. “Thank you.” Her voice had fallen to a near-whisper. She feared that if she spoke louder, the torrent of sobs would break loose. Suddenly, Aubrey pulled up his horse, and Serena saw a large hand go out and come to rest on Ariel’s mane over her neck. The mare halted as if on cue. “Miss Blakely,” she heard him say, his voice drawing her gaze to his. She nearly melted. He looked at her with a poignant blend of sympathy and sadness, his hazel eyes like bottomless liquid pools. Serena felt a jolt of heat course through her. A mere twenty-four hours earlier, she had thought him cold and surly, incapable of what she saw reflected in his eyes. And now, he stunned her. She stared back at him, utterly helpless. “I’m not just saying that. And I don’t normally speak so boldly. It’s just that ... well ... I ... know how it feels.” Serena nodded, now unable to stop tears from welling up and overflowing. She dabbed at them with her gloved fingers. “Forgive me. It doesn’t go away. The pain, I mean.”
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Aubrey sat back a bit in his saddle, causing the leather to creak. His horse quivered a muscle in his neck to swish away a fly. “I’m not certain it’s meant to.” Serena swiped at a stray tear as it made a track down her right cheek. “No, I suppose not.” They remained that way, seated on their horses, until the groan of wagon wheels not far behind them pulled their attention. Some Kikuyu men rode past in a wagon pulled by a mule. Aubrey grasped Serena’s reins and guided the horses to the side of the road to let the wagon pass. Then he looked into Serena’s face. “Are you ready to go on?” His voice was gentle, soothing. Serena nodded, wiping away one last tear. Aubrey let go of Ariel’s reins and pressed his heels into his mount’s sides. Serena did the same, and they continued toward the river. The rush of water grew louder as they approached, and Serena followed Aubrey over the bridge and into the rolling grasslands of the game area. The pale sun shone high overhead, the heat it gave off mitigated only by the breezes that swept across the plain. Aubrey turned off the road, and Serena let herself be guided into the sea of grass dotted her and there by islands of bare thorn trees. Serena peered toward the horizon from which the smoky-blue Ngong Hills rose from the undulating silver waves of grass into the pale, clear sky. Just in front of them, she spotted a herd of giraffe grazing. One giraffe stood by a tree, its long neck engaged among the branches so it could pick off stray leaves. “Mr. Darnell, look!” Serena forgot herself as she pointed. She turned to Aubrey, who was close by her as they rode. He now smiled freely at her. Her stomach lurched, and she retreated back into her nervousness. “It’s just such a wonder that God should have made such creatures.”
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Aubrey chuckled. “Yes, I know. It’s one thing to read about them in books. Quite another to see them for yourself.” Serena nodded, touching her heels to Ariel’s sides, reining the mare in next to Aubrey as they turned northward. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I felt ... so alive.” Her host seemed to avoid her gaze. “Don’t apologize, Miss Blakely. I’m glad you joined me.” A frisson of heat passed through her entire body, and her palms perspired in her gloves. To their left, the beginnings of a herd of grazing cattle dotted out over the grassy plain. Aubrey pointed. “This is the edge of the Masais’ herds. We’re not far now.” He urged his horse into a trot, and Serena followed, grateful for the endless lessons in equitation her father had drilled into her the years before he died. Though she’d been only twelve when Nigel Blakely passed away, the hours and hours of training he’d pressed on her stayed with her, and she could sit a horse better than most of his friends and colleagues. For several minutes, Serena and Aubrey trotted their horses along the outskirts of the herd, hemmed ineffectively by a makeshift fence of thorn branches. Serena shuddered when they passed a cow carcass buzzing with flies, the obvious victim of the previous night. Aubrey held out his hand, signaling Serena to bring Ariel down to a walk. They went on another minute or so until Aubrey brought his mount to a halt. Serena did the same. She rested her hands on the pommel of her saddle and watched him. He looked straight ahead, his head tilted slightly to one side. She saw him sniff the air, then nod. He turned to her, putting a finger to his lips. When she nodded her understanding, he pointed. Serena turned her head obediently and looked. In the distance, the land sloped gently upward into a small hill, at the top of which sat a large mimosa tree. She caught her breath. Three lions, a male and two females, lounged in the shade. Serena stared at them, but they didn’t seem to notice. She looked at Aubrey. “They’re beautiful!” she whispered.
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“Yes, they are.” He climbed down from his horse and took Ariel’s reins, freeing Serena to dismount. Then he unslung his rifle and turned to her. “Do you know how to fire one of these?” Serena nodded. “Another skill for which to thank my father.” Though she said it tongue-in-cheek, she shuddered to think of how unprepared she would have been if Nigel Blakely had had sons. “Good.” Aubrey cocked the safety and handed the weapon to Serena. “Stay here. Use this to protect yourself, if necessary.” “You don’t mean that you’re ...” “I won’t need it.” Serena stared up at him. “Please be careful.” Aubrey smiled, a truly magnificent sight. “I will.” He handed her the reins to his horse and turned. Serena watched his back as the tall, muscular man made his way through the rippling waves of grass toward the lions. Her heart began to thud against her chest, and her gloved hands tightened around the barrel of the rifle. “What is he doing?” she whispered. She caught her breath as he approached the large tawny creatures. The male was magnificent, with a powerful body and huge dark mane. It turned and stared at Aubrey, rising up off its haunches as the man drew closer. The females, who had been lying on the ground, also rose, standing on all fours, regarding the human who approached them. Aubrey halted a mere ten feet from the beasts. His back was to Serena, who wished she could see his facial expression. But he stood, quietly, his hands held, palms out, toward them. His unruly chocolate-colored hair blew about in the breeze. Serena’s body was tense, painfully so, and she clenched her jaw until the muscles ached. She was prepared at any moment for one of the beasts to spring up and attack Aubrey.
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As strong and capable as he was, she couldn’t imagine he’d be able to defend himself against an angry lion. She watched, forgetting to breathe. A warm breeze passed over, blowing stray wisps of her blond hair across her cheeks. She didn’t dare move a muscle, not even to tuck her hair back. Her gaze froze on the scene before her. Suddenly, the male lion stood up off its haunches and began to move toward Aubrey. Serena gasped and held up the rifle, aiming it toward the creature. She slipped her finger through the trigger, prepared to squeeze it, should Aubrey’s life be in danger. But the lion kept moving, past Aubrey, down the hill in the opposite direction. The females followed him, not even looking at Aubrey as they caught up with their mate.
Oh, my God! Serena’s gaze followed the lions as they disappeared on the other side of the hill. When they were gone, she put the rifle down and stood, more addled than ever as Aubrey made his way through the tall grasses back to her. When he drew closer, Serena remembered suddenly to breathe and took in a large gasp of air, her hands shaking wildly around the barrel of the rifle. She could only stare at Aubrey as he approached her. His features had darkened, their chiseled quality appearing more pronounced. Locks of his dark hair hung over his forehead. When he stopped in front of her, she saw his broad chest heaving slightly under his shirt. The change in him frightened her a bit, even as it caused a churning of desire down between her thighs. “Are you all right?” He looked down at her. His dark eyes smoldered, seeming to look right inside her. He nodded. “And you?” “I ... I’m fine,” she answered. “I can’t believe what you just did!” Serena glanced down at the reins and rifle in her hands, then back up at Aubrey. “How?” Aubrey leaned with one hand on his horse’s neck as he worked to catch his breath. His forehead gleamed with a light sheen of perspiration. He shook his dark head. “Truthfully, I
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don’t know.” He stood quietly, still piercing her gaze with his. “Miss Blakely ... Serena ... those lions did not kill that cow.” Serena furrowed her brow, her head tilted upward. “How do you know that?” She saw Aubrey’s lip quiver slightly. The breeze blew his disorderly mane across his cheek and over his forehead. He took a deep breath. “Experience,” he answered in a husky whisper. The tone made her tremble as the churning between her legs increased to a riotous pulsing. Those lions had affected Aubrey in some strange way. And that way was affecting her. Deeply. “Mr. Darnell ...” “Aubrey,” he corrected. Serena’s heart lurched. “Aubrey. Are you certain you’re well?” She returned his steady, intense gaze. She saw his lips quiver once again. She set the rifle carefully down and reached out quickly, as if to feel his forehead for fever. He reached out and caught her wrist in midair, staring at her. “Mr. Darnell ... Aubrey ...” He released her hand and reached out, cradling the back of her neck. Large, strong fingers slid into her hair. His touch immediately melted her. The mad throbbing sprang to life between her thighs. Her nipples tightened against her corset. Her gaze fixed on his lips, those firmly shaped, masculine lips. His other arm slipped around her waist, gently pulling her against him. She lifted her hands, pressing them flat on his chest. Not to push him away, but to feel him. Hard muscle flexed under the soft flesh of her palms. Her breath escaped in a deep sigh as she slid her hands over his chest and around to his back. Her fingertips explored the quivering muscle, felt his breath rising and falling heavily under her hands.
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His fingers wound into her hair, pulling it loose from its pins. His other hand caressed her waist. The feral, musky scent of the lions carried on the wind, filling her nostrils. She was losing herself, melting rapidly under his touch. She felt his hardness against her stomach and resisted the urge to lie down and pull him on top of her. He pressed his lips against her forehead. His breath pulsed heat on her skin. A small moan escaped her throat as she pressed her body harder against his and squeezed his back muscles. She caught herself just before sliding her hands lower, over his breeches and ... His hand fisted her hair. The tension coiled in his other hand as he gently squeezed the side of her waist, causing her to weaken helplessly, growing more pliant with each passing second. Aubrey’s masculine scent filled her nostrils, a heady blend of leather, earth, and spicy gentlemen’s aftershave. His lips were soft, sensuous, and iron strength radiated from his muscular body. Serena gave in and sank against him, the softness of her breasts crushing into hard, rocky muscle. His lips traveled from her forehead to her temple, a soft, urgent dappling of his warm lips on her skin that moved over her cheek, closer and closer to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed just as he pressed his lips to hers. The tip of his tongue caressed the seam of her lips. She parted them and he slipped his tongue in, mating it with hers. The length of his body pressed to hers, and she felt his erection rising, pushing against her through his breeches. She moaned softly into his mouth. Aubrey ended the kiss suddenly. Gently but firmly he pushed Serena from him and stood before her, breathing raggedly. “No,” he panted. “This is wrong.” Serena, too, was breathing heavily. Desire had swollen her lips and breasts. Between her thighs, her cream had quickened and gathered, and her swollen clit throbbed, aching for release. At Aubrey’s rejection, she stared at him, unable to move or speak.
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“I ... I’m so sorry, Serena ... Miss Blakely.” Aubrey turned and paced in front of her several times. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me.” He stopped, his hands out in a pleading gesture. “We’re not animals. I couldn’t help it. You’re so ... beautiful.” The sorrow in his eyes prodded Serena from her hushed state. “It’s all right. You did nothing wrong.” She watched him, hoping her words would encourage him to kiss her again. But they didn’t. He grew increasingly grim, falling into what appeared to be the same sourness of the day before. “Come. We should get back.” Serena looked down, releasing a deep breath. His sudden rejection now sank into her consciousness, quelling the heat of desire in her body. Rejection always hurt, but she felt somehow responsible. She had, after all, responded wantonly. Wordlessly, she retrieved the rifle from the ground and handed it to him while he gathered the horses’ reins. He held Ariel’s bridle while she mounted. When Aubrey saw her safely mounted, reins in hand, boots in stirrups, he turned, shouldered the rifle, and mounted the bay. As he took his stirrups, he gave her one more look. The darkness was still in his features, yet his eyes no longer smoldered. They had turned hard. He clucked to his horse, pushing his heels into its mahogany-colored sides. Then he headed back in the direction from which they’d come. Serena urged the mare into a brisk walk, keeping a bit of distance between herself and the unpredictable Aubrey Darnell. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, not only to block out the slanting afternoon sunlight, but to shield herself from the effect he had on her. He made all rational and ladylike thought, feeling and behavior impossible. Damn the man! She sighed as her upper body swayed gently with Ariel’s smooth gait. It’s just as well. In spite of the desire that had raged through her moments ago, her conscience was never far from Theo. This was one promise she couldn’t keep.
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Chapter Four
Aubrey knelt in the grasses, his rifle pointed toward the lion on the hill. After weeks of pursuit, he finally had the beast in his sight. His finger tensed on the trigger as a breeze passed over. He hesitated. Undoubtedly, the breeze would carry his scent to the lion, who would either defend himself or turn and flee. The creature stood and turned its massive, maned head in his direction. Their gazes met across the distance of dry, waving grasses. Aubrey set down his rifle, watching. Something was different, and he knew he must not shoot. Any other hunter, even an experienced one, would have taken his chance to fire in that moment, but Aubrey couldn’t. His gaze followed the powerful beast’s descent from the hill into the midst of his pride. Females and cubs surrounded him. Aubrey’s heart lurched, and his hands began to tremble. A sudden cold sweat broke out all over his body, and he shivered in spite of the intense, arid heat of the plains. The rifle dropped from his weak grip as the lion stopped and turned, staring at his human watcher. In spite of the distance between them, Aubrey could see straight into the animal’s eyes, every green and gold fleck surrounding the diamond-shaped pupils.
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His legs gave out from under him, and he sank to the ground next to his rifle. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an iron fist, making him pant wildly for the smallest breath of air. Every nerve and sinew in his body burned as if molten lava flowed through his veins instead of blood. The feeling of clothes on his body grew unbearable, and he ripped at them desperately. The very bones of his face felt distorted, stretched. He no longer felt human. What in bloody hell was happening to him?
***** Serena sighed, staring down at her uneaten curry. Absently she picked up her wineglass and took a sip. Aubrey must think her wanton. What else could explain his absence from the supper table that evening? The thought filled her with shame and embarrassment. And yet, she’d wanted nothing more than the feel of him inside of her, his bare flesh against hers. She remembered the rock-like muscles quivering and flexing under her hands. The male part of him had been equally as hard, pressing into her soft flesh, wanting her. And she’d been ready. Shamelessly, boldly ready. Only a few moments more and she’d have unfastened his breeches for him ... “You seem pensive, Serena.” Uncle Hugh’s voice pulled Serena from her worried musing. She forced herself to smile. “I’m fine, Uncle. I just ... felt concerned about Aub-- Mr. Darnell. He begged off tea this afternoon, as well.” Hugh wiped his mouth and set the cloth back on his lap. “He keeps strange hours. I wouldn’t worry, my dear.” Serena took a sip of wine. “It’s just, well, the lions seemed to have had a strange effect on him.” She told Uncle Hugh about his friend’s feat with the lions.
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When she had finished her bizarre story, Hugh shook his gray head emphatically. “Impossible, Serena. Most certainly he had a pistol hidden in his clothing and pointed it at them so you couldn’t see it.” She sighed. She knew that Aubrey most certainly had not hidden a pistol. She would have felt it when their bodies pressed together. There had been one very hard place she’d felt on the man, and it hadn’t been a weapon. What’s more, she’d clearly seen Aubrey’s hands. He’d outstretched them toward the beasts as if to assure them he was unarmed. She’d left this detail out of her narrative, and didn’t fill it in now. The whole situation was too bizarre. Hugh took a large sip of wine. “I say, the fellow is not himself lately. He was once the greatest marksman in all of Africa. No one could believe a chap so young was so accomplished!” He shook his head again. “Well, he agreed to attend to this safari of ours.” Hugh picked up the bell on the table and rang it heartily. In moments, Kamar appeared with his customary solemn bow. “Yes, Sabu.” “Kamar, please get a message to Mr. Darnell this very evening. Please tell him that we leave tomorrow at first light. I know it’s short notice, but we must go into the preserve while the wily bugger is still in our midst. You can tell him word for word what I said. ” Serena’s stomach fluttered as she listened to her uncle’s instructions. Finally she would keep her promise to Theodore. Well, at least one of her promises. After Kamar had bowed and retreated, Uncle Hugh looked at her. “I do apologize, Reenie, for the terribly short notice. But I see no better time than the present. This creature is more intelligent than many men, and we must seize the moment.” She nodded. “I understand, Uncle Hugh. It’s just the idea of shooting a living creature.” The corners of her uncle’s lips curved upward. “Ah, but you have yet to experience the thrill of the hunt. Shooting is but the least of it, my dear. Whether we catch the creature or not, you’ll feel more alive than you ever have tracking him down.”
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“But you’ve said so many times what a wonderful prize he’d be.” Hugh snorted. “Perhaps to throw it up in the faces of the other chaps in my club. What man doesn’t want to become a legend?” He chuckled. “We’re complicated creatures, my dear. Now, I should very much wish to hear you play Beethoven. Are you up to it?” She smiled as she put her napkin next to her empty dinner plate. “Certainly, Uncle Hugh.” She rose from the table and went to her room to fetch her music. Serena obliged her uncle with all three movements of The Moonlight Sonata, followed by a glass of sherry by the fire before retiring. The drink made Serena feel slightly heady, and she relaxed for the first time that day, letting go, at least for a while, of the torrent of emotions that coursed through her. She undressed, brushed out her hair, and packed her trunk with the appropriate clothing and toiletries for the trip ahead. Once finished, she climbed into bed, her mind filled with the potent memories of that afternoon on the plains. She allowed the memories of reality to drift to fantasy in which Aubrey did not pull away from her when he had. Instead, he pulled her gently to the ground, laying her down underneath him. He unbuttoned her blouse with hungry fingers, pulled the material aside, and sank his lips onto the bare flesh just above her corset, tasting her with his hot tongue while he pulled the laces open and freed her breasts. Suddenly, assailed by guilt, she caught her breath. Theo. It had taken the two of them years to build love and trust. Their emotions of love and commitment had fueled the passion they’d shared. And now, in less than two days, Serena had nearly given herself in wild lust to a man she barely knew. A man who, she sensed deep in her bones, held a dark secret. She sat bolt upright. What the bloody hell had she been thinking? She sighed. Thinking had nothing to do with it. She couldn’t think at all when Aubrey Darnell was anywhere near her. It was as if thought didn’t exist, only raw, elemental nerves, racing heart, and erotic desire.
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“Se-reee-na.” At the sound of her name, Serena’s eyes widened. Her heart lurched. It was still dark, though moonlight like liquid silver bathed her room. A shadow loomed, cutting through the moonlight. She gaped at the tall figure standing at the French doors. Slowly, noiselessly, he pushed them open, filling the room with the hum of crickets in the surrounding trees and in the lawn. Serena stared. Her chest heaved with her ragged breathing, and a light gleam of perspiration broke out on her forehead and upper lip. “Se-reee-na.” Hushed, yet resonant with a low vibration, he purred her name in the shadows. The heavy, intoxicating scent of his musk, now familiar, permeated the air. She wasn’t dreaming this time. Or was she? Serena clutched her comforter to her chest. A breeze wafted in through the open doors, lifting the curtains and caressing her damp skin. “Please! You’re frightening me!” He emerged from the darkness and stood by her bed, his naked, muscular body bathed in the moonlight. Suspended between shock and enchantment, Serena stared at the dark figure as he stepped into the room. His broad, powerful chest rose and fell rhythmically. His emerald eyes glinted with the slightest movement of his head, and his gaze made her skin tingle with answering desire. The heady, feral aroma emanating from his skin and hair filled her nostrils. He stepped closer, crouching down as he watched her. Serena knew she was the prey he stalked. His nearness set off the erotic pulsing between her thighs, and her nipples tingled and stiffened. She gazed up at him, captured by the sudden intense longing to bury her fingers in his thick, unruly mane of hair, to press her face into the soft, luxurious beard. “Who are you?” she begged in a whisper.
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He tilted his head slightly at her words, sending an emerald glint through the darkness. Yet, he waited, watching, never taking his eyes off her. The bedroom thrummed with the low vibration emanating from him. With Serena’s gaze firmly held in his own, he crept closer, inching sinuously toward her on his hands and knees. At the edge of the bed, he hesitated a moment more, as if waiting for Serena’s reaction. When she didn’t move, he sprang up, uncoiling his powerful body. He landed on the bed with catlike precision, his powerful legs straddling her, his large torso forcing her back against the pillows. Serena stared up at him. His warm breath pulsed on her skin, and the entire bed vibrated with his purring. The fiery glints in his eyes trained into her as the moonlight splashed over his features, outlining the strong, sensuous lips only inches from hers. She remembered the feel of those lips between her legs, the hot tongue contained behind them, licking her most intimate parts. The memory touched off a surge of desire in her already swelling vaginal cleft. Serena’s mysterious lover lifted one hand from the pillow and touched her cheek. His fingertips whispered a sensuous trail along her skin, down the curve of her neck, where it met with the white billow of nightgown. Serena felt his touch through the material as his fingers slid down her chest and over her right breast, causing an eruption of wild tingling in the nipple. His hand continued its rousing journey down her body, grazing over her pubic mound, down one thigh until he reached the hem of her nightgown. Enthralled, Serena watched him. Waited for his next touch. He held a fistful of her nightgown, his brawny frame poised over her. He tugged gently, slipping the gown up above her knees. Serena felt the air touch her bare skin. She gasped softly when he slid the gown up a bit further, exposing her thighs, then her mound of tawny curls.
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He tugged again, and Serena understood. She sat up and lifted her arms, allowing him to slip the nightgown over her head, leaving her naked under his gaze. For the first time, his gaze left her face and moved over her body. Serena watched the emerald eyes glow like molten pools as they took in her breasts, soft stomach, and glistening mound and cleft. A palpable wave of desire rippled through him in response to her naked body, and he exhaled a ragged breath over the low growl that emanated from deep in his throat. He sank his upper body down onto hers, his chest pressing her breasts. Serena let out a soft moan. The pleasure of this first touch was intoxicating, causing the small pink tips of her nipples to stiffen. Serena dared to embrace his muscular torso, her hands splayed across the rock-hard sinew of his back. His muscles quivered in response to her touch, and one strong knee parted both of hers with gentle insistence. Her legs fell open in response to the pressure, obediently accepting his naked, moonlit body between them. His shaft was fully erect and pressed against her slit. Serena gasped. He was about to possess her, to join their bodies as close as two human beings could get to each other. Serena’s heart squeezed as she released her body to him, ready for his penetration. He reached down, slicking his fingertips along the swollen pink ridges of her vaginal cleft, separating the lips. Serena felt the head of his erection push into her opening. Serena’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips grazed hers. Her body vibrated with the thrum of his purring throat as he inched his shaft into her a hairsbreadth. His muscles quivered under her hands, and his breath thundered ragged in her ear. She felt lost in a delicious pool of male sinew and strength. He was taking great care, loving her tenderly. She pressed her lips into the perspiring skin of his neck, inhaling his musky male aroma.
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He paused. Serena heard a sharp intake of breath and felt his muscles flex and tense under her hands. The movement felt almost violent, and he began to gasp, short, hard breaths that had no sound of pleasure in them. He rose above her, withdrawing from between her thighs, bracing himself with his hands splayed on the mattress. His features had darkened, almost beyond recognition, and he strained and groaned, suffering in some way she didn’t understand. “What’s wrong?” she whispered. He groaned again in response and rolled off the bed. Serena leaned over as he landed on the floor, his large, strong body curled in fetal position. Her gaze froze on his twitching, pained form in the moonlit shadows. Deep growls emanated from his throat -- not human, not beast. Serena’s blood chilled in her body, her arousal of just moments before gone. When he unfurled his body from its tight ball and began twitching violently, Serena cowed and covered her eyes with shaking hands. In moments, she heard his breathing grow steady, though it was heavier. The musky scent he emitted was overpowering, dizzying. Serena uncovered her eyes. She gasped. Her lover was gone. In his place, stood a ... lion? “Oh, my God!” she breathed. She trembled violently, her skin erupting in a cold sweat. He stood close to her bedside, breathing steadily, an intoxicating, regal sound that filled her. He was nothing less than magnificent. Powerful. Tawny mane and brute strength, sinew and silky coat. Serena backed up against the pillows, a scream caught in her throat. She stared, mesmerized by the creature’s green-gold eyes, glinting like emerald fire with the slightest movement of its head.
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The animal took a step toward her. Its giant head was very close, its hot breath passing over her bare breasts in a silky vapor. In one smooth movement, the creature lowered itself to its haunches, bringing its magnificent head to rest on Serena’s legs. Serena saw the giant green feline eyes close to dark slashes. Her entire body vibrated with its purring. No dream had ever been like this. Yet, a dream it was. She reached out a tentative hand. Pressed it down to the animal’s mane, into its soft, thick depth. Her hand vanished in the abundant growth. She began to stroke it. The silky hair yielded under hand, brushing her fingertips deliciously. She closed her eyes, drinking in the feel of the beast’s mane. She was, after all, his lover. If only in her dreams. The lion lifted its head, opening its eyes. They glittered into hers. Like a housecat, he pushed his giant muzzle against her hand. Serena’s breath caught in her throat and her heart surged in her chest. She felt deeply connected to this magnificent creature in a place deep inside her. The beast rose and took a step back, heaving a long, snuffling breath. Disappointment washed through her. “Must you leave?” Serena leaned forward in the bed as the animal receded from her touch. Her body trembled again, but no longer from fear. The beast purred, its tawny sides heaving. It blinked its cat eyes, squeezing them shut for just a moment. Then it turned. The French doors had been open the whole time, and the creature paused between them. The moonlight bathed its magnificent feline body, inspiring Serena to catch her breath. It turned its large head and looked at her. Lion and woman stared. The beast turned back to the outdoors and padded out, across the stone terrace.
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Serena watched it disappear into the night.
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Sedonia Guillone
Chapter Five
Serena stared at Aubrey’s wide, strong back as he moved with the brisk walk of his horse. She gripped Ariel’s reins in her gloved hands. Her safari helmet cut the glare of the African sun that glinted off the tall grasses. Uncle Hugh rode behind her. Following him was the train of servants and footmen who carried the extra rifles and provisions. She sighed. From the polite but cursory greeting Aubrey had given her this morning, one would never know the bodice-ripping passion that had flared between them the previous afternoon.
My God, she thought, remembering her wantonness. In spite of her embarrassment, the erotic tingling began all over her body at the memory. She’d wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel that man’s erection buried deep inside her. His earthen scent and the taste of his mouth lingered in her mind as if it were happening in this moment. What in bloody hell had she been doing? All the more reason to feel foolish. To think, she had nearly betrayed Theo’s memory for a brief roll in the savannah.
You’ve done no such thing, Reenie. Theo. Since he’d died, Serena had had countless inner conversations with him. He was very much alive in her heart. His handsome face hovered in her mind, smiling.
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She returned his smile, in spite of her distress. She missed Theo’s scolding. I heard you. Theo’s eyes narrowed. You made a promise, Reenie. Serena’s shoulders drooped. I made two promises, she answered. Neither of which I’ve
fulfilled. Theo’s eyes softened. Don’t worry about the first one. I know you don’t like shooting.
Hunting the Great Lion was my dream. Not yours. Serena caught her breath. Are you certain? Theo nodded. I am. But the second promise, Reenie. I refuse to release you from that. He set his jaw, the way he always had when he wanted his way. To the outside world, this trait had always come off as petulance. But Serena knew otherwise. He loved her and wanted her to be happy.
Theo, I miss you. I miss you, too, Reenie. But you can still miss me, even when you love again. He disappeared before she could answer. Up ahead, she saw Aubrey hold out his hand, the signal that they were to dismount and continue on foot. One of the Kikuyu servants took Ariel’s reins from her and led the mare away. She went to stand by her uncle, who was preoccupied with shouldering his rifle and making certain that all his ammunition had been packed. Her stomach tightened watching Aubrey hand his horse’s reins to another servant and then approach them. “We’re on the outskirts of the game preserve,” he said to her. She nodded. “I understood that.” She shouldered the rifle her uncle had given her before their departure and pretended to be busy watching the wind sway the tall grasses. “What are we waiting for?” her uncle bellowed as he approached. “Onward, Aubrey, my man. Let’s find the wily bugger.”
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Aubrey cleared his throat. He looked at her hesitantly, then took his place at the head of the line.
By late afternoon, Serena began to wonder when the fun began. She wasn’t used to the heat and found it made her quite cross. Her corset stuck to her perspiring body with unrelenting ferocity, and the flies seemed to feel that her eyes were a pair of sugar-dusted madeleines rather than eyes. She swatted in front of her face furiously with one hand while lifting her feet just high enough that she didn’t trip and end up facedown in an ant pile or some other sort of inviting nest. Apparently, the animals of the preserve were far more intelligent than humans and kept themselves tucked away in the shade somewhere, for she hadn’t seen a single one in all these hours of tromping through the grass. Except for the flying annoyances, that is. Finally her uncle turned, wiping his face with a bandanna. “Are you all right, my dear? It is quite a bit warmer here than in England.” She looked at him and swatted some more flies away. “I seem to recall an expression about mad dogs and Englishman being the only ones who go out in the noonday sun.” Uncle Hugh chuckled. “It’s what makes us Brits who we are, Reenie. We did not establish an empire on which the sun never sets by hiding ourselves away.” “I’m not the empire-establishing type myself, Uncle Hugh.” “Yes, I see that. You will be glad to know we’ve just about reached the site where we’ll set up our base camp. There’s a watering hole nearby. You can refill your canteen and have a bit of a bath if you wish.” “That would be lovely.” Serena noticed that Aubrey had glanced at her over his shoulder at the mention of the word “bath.” Their gazes met and her stomach fluttered, but he turned around almost immediately.
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Serena gritted her teeth. Normally she just felt embarrassed, but the heat and the flies made her feel downright cross. Damn the man!
Aubrey wondered how much more tightly coiled he could become before the explosion. He’d been about to make love to her last night before the change had accelerated beyond his control. To make matters worse, if they could be, he felt terrible about the afternoon before, jumping on Serena as if he were still the wild beast out on the plains at night, instead of a man. It was no wonder she could barely look at him. Things had not gone well at all since they’d met. Not well at all. Tanenge’s words echoed in his mind. He needed to mate with the woman who knew him for what he was. Only that would cure him. Only that would bring the two severed halves of his being together, making him whole again. No wonder his systems had slipped even more dreadfully out of control in the last two days than in the past eight years. He sighed. It appeared his only choice was to tell her the truth and hope she wouldn’t run screaming into the night. To tell her what he was would be difficult enough. But to expect her to readily open her body to him? God in heaven! What did this life want from him? When they reached the campsite, he watched Serena lean gratefully against the trunk of a tree, swabbing her face and neck with a bandanna from her pocket. He sensed her desire for the watering hole the same way he felt the lust ebb and flow in her body. He might or might not be able to tell her the truth of the monster he was, but at least he could show her the watering hole. She looked up when he approached. Her rising tension filled the space between them. “I’ll bring you to the watering hole, if you like,” he offered.
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She sighed, obviously avoiding his gaze. “If it’s close by, you can simply point me in the direction and I’ll find it myself, thank you.” He nodded. “As you wish. Just go around that clump of trees and brush on the far side of the campsite.” He pointed. “Follow the path where the grass is worn, on the outskirt of the brush. On the other side is the water hole.” Serena lifted herself away from the tree trunk and put a hand over her canteen. “Thank you,” she murmured. She hesitated a moment, as if she wanted to say something, then decided the better of it and headed off in the direction he’d indicated. He watched her until she disappeared behind the clumps of brush. Suddenly, from nowhere, a terrible sense of foreboding snaked through him. He took one step to follow her when Hugh approached him. He caught his breath. It would do no good to alarm Serena’s uncle. “Aubrey, my man, would you --” “Whatever it is, I’m happy to,” he cut in. “But it must wait. Call of nature.” “By all means.” Aubrey took off for the watering hole. With a sigh of relief, he spotted Serena just as she approached the edge of the water. She knelt on the narrow band of sandy beach and dipped her canteen, pouring the contents into her mouth and letting the water sluice over her forehead, cheeks, and neck. He knelt in the brush, captured, as she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. His heartbeat increased at the sight of her pale flesh and the hint of her breasts above the line of the chemise and corset she wore. She removed the pins from her golden hair, which tumbled in silky waves down her shoulders and back. She refilled her canteen and tilted her head back, wetting her hair thoroughly. The water spilled over her chest and down her back in shiny droplets that disappeared into her corset, and he felt the burning sensations deep in his bodily systems as the beast inside him began to uncoil.
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Serena turned to the water to refill her canteen just as something slid through the water. A pair of long jaws, studded with sharp, curved teeth opened. Serena screamed and dropped her canteen. The strap had wound around her wrist, and the crocodile grabbed the canteen and began to drag Serena into the water. Her terrified screams filled the air. “Serena!” Aubrey yelled and sprang from the underbrush. He splashed into the water and pounced on the croc, ripping the canteen from the strap. His fist landed in the crocodile’s eye and the creature released her.
Once free from the creature’s jaws, Serena scrambled backward onto dry sand, watching with horror as the crocodile lunged at Aubrey. The giant jaws opened again, and Aubrey turned with lightning speed and grasped them just before they closed on his leg. To her amazement, man and beast were nearly matched in size, and she heard ferocious growls emanating from Aubrey’s throat as he rolled over and over in the water, his large hands gripping the huge, long jaws. She covered her mouth, her eyes wide. Her heart raced madly. Her rifle lay nearby, but she didn’t dare try and shoot in case she missed and hit Aubrey. “Serena!” Uncle Hugh ran up to her and knelt down. “My God, are you all right?” The servants ran onto the beach, rifles pointed toward the water. She nodded. “I’m fine. But ...” Her lip trembled violently. “Aubrey,” she managed, pointing to the water. On and on Aubrey and the crocodile splashed and wrestled. Any other man would most definitely have already been crushed in the beast’s jaws, but Aubrey hung on with brute strength, bit by bit, wrenching its enormous jaws open. Serena gaped at the dreadful scene before her. Aubrey dipped below the surface of the water and remained for what seemed far too long. She struggled to her feet. “Uncle Hugh, my God! It’s killing him.”
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Several torturous moments passed. The surface of the water nearly settled when Aubrey rose and stood, having gained footing in the shallows. His huge hands still gripped the crocodile’s jaws, which he had spread open to a point that seemed to have immobilized his foe. A strained, screeching growl emanated from Aubrey’s throat. His face grimaced with strain as he pushed the jaws apart the length of his arms. A large crack resounded, and the crocodile’s body went limp. Aubrey threw the corpse into the water and staggered onto shore. His shirt hung in tatters, revealing his muscular body, full of cuts. He dropped to his knees beside Serena. “Aubrey, your hands!” She reached for his torn, bloody hands. “Uncle Hugh, please hold him up while I bandage him.” Her uncle steadied him with hands on his shoulders while she ripped bands of material from her discarded shirt. Swiftly but gently, she bound his cuts, tightly enough to put pressure on to stop the bleeding. She looked up at her uncle. “I don’t think he’s ready to go back yet,” she told him. “I’ll stay here with him.” “Reenie, I don’t like leaving you here. I feel dreadful, just dreadful about this.” “I’ll be all right, Uncle. It’s no one’s fault. Please, help him down.” She knelt down by his head and touched his shoulder. The muscle quivered under her touch, but he seemed barely to notice he was panting so hard. “Aubrey, lie down.” Her uncle helped lower him to a lying position on the sand, using Serena’s lap as a pillow. “Ngatu, ngatu.” At the sound of voices, she turned. Several of the servants were pointing and staring at Aubrey, their dark eyes wide with a mixture of fear and reverence. “Nonsense. Tonga, take the others and finish setting up camp.” The short man her uncle had addressed, the one who had not looked frightened, nodded. “Yes, Sabu.” He barked an order to the others and ushered them away.
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Hugh picked up Serena’s rifle and set it down where she could easily grab it. “Don’t be afraid to use this.” She nodded. “Thank you.” The older man walked away in the direction of the others. Once alone, Serena turned her attention to Aubrey. His eyes were closed, the long dark lashes resting on his cheeks. His bandaged hands lay limp on the sand at either side of him, and his broad chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of sleep. Wrestling a giant crocodile to the death would enervate a man, she supposed. Resting her weight on one hand, she lifted the fingertips of the other to his drenched hair. Sunlight glinted off the dark, thick locks as she stroked his hair back gingerly. It was exquisitely soft to the touch, and she caressed it several times before lifting her hand away. Leaning back on both her hands, she watched Aubrey sleep, allowing her gaze to travel up and down the entire length of him, partly to assess the condition of his injuries, and partly ... well ... because he was simply the most astonishingly handsome man she’d ever seen. And certainly one of the strongest. Every inch of him was carved with hard, rounded muscle. She found her gaze especially drawn to his chest, dusted with soft dark hair that ran in a trail down his taut stomach, disappearing under the waist of his trousers ... She caught herself. How wicked to look on Aubrey so lustfully when he had nearly gotten himself killed saving her life! The longer she sat, the deeper the reality sank in. He had saved her life. Not to mention, he’d wrestled a deadly crocodile to its death with his bare hands. She remembered what one of the servants had said. He’d called Aubrey ngatu. A shiver passed through her as she thought of her dream, but she waved it away. It had to be superstitious nonsense. Men just didn’t change into lions or vice versa. Adrenaline must have given him the strength of ten men.
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Her heart warmed and swelled with gratitude and admiration. She didn’t think she could every repay him properly. She didn’t know how much time had passed when Aubrey’s eyes fluttered opened and he took a deep breath. He blinked several times, staring up at her, giving her the impression he didn’t know where he was. “Aubrey, how are you feeling?” He blinked again and shifted slightly. Groaning softly, he lay still. “I’ve been better.” “Don’t try to move again. Rest as long as you need.” A wave of affection passed through her, and she stroked his hair tenderly. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. “That’s very nice,” he murmured. “It’s the least I can do.” She sighed. “I owe you my life.” Aubrey opened his eyes, staring up at her. “You owe me nothing, Serena. I feel horrible that you were endangered while under my care.” She shook her head. “As I told my uncle, no one is to blame. But you must let me repay you somehow. Please.” He heaved a deep sigh. “You can nurse me back to health.” He lifted his bandaged hands briefly. Blood had seeped through, staining the bandages. “That goes without saying, Aubrey. There must be something special you want. Something that could be in my power to give you.” “Forgive me for yesterday,” he murmured. “My behavior was unacceptable.” Serena’s heart sank. “I’m the one who’s sorry for that. I was certain I’d offended you.” His hazel eyes widened. “Offended me? God, no. I came at you like a rutting beast.” She looked away, toward the grasses on the other side of the watering hole. The remnants of the crocodile had floated there. She shuddered and turned away. “I thought I’d offended you with my ... enthusiastic response.”
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“Perhaps neither of us needs be sorry. Consider it done and forgiven.” She sighed. “As you say. But that does not constitute the extent of my gratitude,” she added. By God, she was going to see to it that she repaid his gallantry and courage! “You absolutely must think of some way I could show my gratitude.” She felt his body suddenly tense and he cleared his throat. “If it means that much to you, I’ll reflect and tell you as soon as I find something.” “Yes, Aubrey, it does mean that much to me. No one’s ever done something so gallant for me in my entire life!” Looking down at him, she suppressed the wicked urge to bend over and kiss him. She satisfied herself with continuing to caress his hair while waiting for him to be rested enough to go back to camp.
Hugh came back a while later and helped Serena get Aubrey to his tent. Serena helped him off with the tattered, bloodstained shirt, and together with her uncle, they eased him onto his cot. “Aubrey, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did today,” the older man said. “You saved my niece’s life.” Aubrey settled weakly into the cot, every scratch and muscle groaning a complaint whenever he moved. “Like I told Serena, Hugh, you’ve nothing to thank me for. I’m grieved that she was endangered.” Hugh twirled the end of one gray mustache. “Yes, so am I. I should have known better myself.” Tonga brought Serena a spare blouse and the first-aid kit. Having forgotten her partially clothed state in the midst of her concern for Aubrey, she thanked Tonga, then donned the blouse as she approached the cot. “As I told Aubrey, Uncle Hugh, it’s nonsense. No one’s at fault. I’m fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall see to the patient.
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Her uncle nodded. “Very well. I’ll be right out here if you need me.” “Thank you, Uncle.” A stool had been placed near the cot. Serena sat down, placing the first-aid box on the ground beside her. “Now, we can bandage you up for real.” Gently she picked up one bandaged hand. He winced as she began to unwind the blood-soaked material. She wet a clean rag from a bowl of water, wiped the wounds clean, and wound a fresh bandage, repeating the same process with Aubrey’s other hand. Her touch was so careful and kind, he found his entire body relaxing. “You’re an angel of mercy, Serena,” he told her. A shy smile curved the corners of her soft lips. “I don’t know about that,” she answered. “But I do know I’m eternally grateful to you.” The woman’s hot scent, a blend of roses and woman’s musk, filled the tent, like sunwarmed fruit. If he hadn’t been so bloody exhausted and beaten up, he would have wanted to pull her down on top of him. On top of him. His eyes flew open and he watched her. She was bent over, replacing the items in the first-aid kit. She then wet the cloth again and began to swab it tenderly over the cuts on his upper arms and chest.
You absolutely must think of some way I could show my gratitude. Serena’s words echoed in his mind. He thought briefly of the other night, of the way he’d tasted her. Her response to him yesterday had been unmistakable. Yesterday, last night, and the night before. No woman he’d ever held had melted at his touch the way Serena had, with her entire heart and soul. Never before had he met a woman whom God had created so distinctly for love and passion, this woman. Created for a man’s possession. His possession. He sneered inwardly at himself. How dare he think of taking advantage of her gratitude! He was better off continuing his original plan of allowing Hugh finally to catch him and unknowingly put him out of his misery. As far as Hugh or anyone else would know, Aubrey Darnell would have disappeared into the wilds while on safari.
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If he didn’t allow that to happen, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from Serena in any case. He studied her gracefully sculpted profile as she dabbed ointment on his cuts. In spite of the stinging, heat simmered in his groin at the light touch of her fingertips on his skin. Another woman might have been reduced to a blubbering heap of nerves after what had happened. But Serena had gathered her wits and concerned herself with his welfare. He found her beautiful and admirable, one of the finest women he’d ever met. “There you are, Aubrey.” She lifted her hand away and put the lid back on the little jar of ointment. She put the jar into the first-aid box, filled him a glass of water, and helped him take a sip. The water slipped down his parched throat, soothing and cool. Like Serena’s gentle touch. His heart began to beat heavily. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. If she was this remarkable, perhaps she would be able to accept ... to believe. Maybe she could help cure him. If she hadn’t begged him to let her repay him, he might not have thought of it at all. But she had. And the truth was, as long as she was anywhere near him, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. At least this way he wouldn’t be deceiving her. He had to try. As soon as he felt better, he would tell her the truth. And pray she believed him. But first, he needed to get his strength back. He could not reveal his existence as the ngatu to her while every muscle in his entire body felt drained of strength and cried out in pain when he moved. Serena reached out and smoothed back his hair from his forehead. “I think I should let you rest for a bit,” she said softly. In spite of the decision he’d just made, his exhaustion was catching up with him. Even the king of beasts needed to rest after a match to the death with another deadly creature. He nodded as his eyelids grew heavy.
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“I’ll come back a bit later and see if you’d like some supper.” “Thank you, Serena.” He felt her had on his shoulder. “And please, if you’ve the strength, try and think of some way that I can repay you.” He nodded again, gazing up at her. She was even lovelier than in Hugh’s photograph. “I promise,” he whispered. “I’ll think of something.”
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Chapter Six
Serena did not dream of her mysterious lion-man. She noted this immediately upon waking, her mind filled with immediate memories of Aubrey’s deadly struggle with the crocodile, his collapse on the beach, and the servants cries of ngatu. She rubbed her eyes and sat up in her cot. Indeed, several of the footmen had fled, according to Tonga, who had remained along with one of his kinsman. These two Kikuyu were either not superstitious, or simply didn’t care whether Aubrey was an ngatu. Rising from the cot, she emerged from the protective mesh of mosquito netting, dressed, pinned up her hair, and went to Aubrey’s tent to check on his wounds. He’d fallen fast asleep when she left him the evening before and had remained so the rest of the night. She was glad to find him sitting up in his cot, bare-chested, his bandaged hands resting on his legs above the blanket. He turned when light filled the tent as she pulled back the flap. “Good morning, Serena. How are you?” Her heartbeat quickened at the sight of him. Dark, heavy stubble covered his cheeks, and his luxurious dark hair rioted uncombed around his face. She forced herself not to let her gaze travel downward over his muscular torso. He happened to appear very much like ... like the lion-man in her dreams.
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She approached the netting and pushed aside one of the panels. “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m concerned for.” He grinned. “You’re very kind. I’m happy to say your skillful nursing has me nearly all recovered.” She returned his smile as relief washed through her. “I’m so glad. I was worried. I dreamed all night about yesterday.” Just then, Tonga appeared at the opening of the tent. “Breakfast, Sabu,” he said. “Thank you, Tonga,” Aubrey answered. He looked at Serena. “I feel well enough to take breakfast at the table.” He pulled back the covers and slowly swung his legs over to a sitting position. She noticed, with some relief, he was still wearing his trousers. “I should check your hands,” she said, moving closer. He held them out for her, one at a time, so she could unwind the bandages. The lacerations from the crocodile’s teeth were still deep, but the blood had stopped seeping. “You poor man,” she murmured as she gently washed the wounds, patted them dry, and put on more ointment. She pulled fresh bandages from the first-aid box and rewound them. “There you are.” She lifted her hands away and looked up at him. And caught her breath at the way he was gazing back at her. His face had darkened, and his green-gold eyes smoldered. “Thank you, Serena,” he said softly. Heat flushed her cheeks and her heart pounded. “You’re welcome,” she managed to whisper. “It’s the very least I could do.” Time felt suspended in those few moments of mutual gazing. “Well, then,” he said finally, “shall we?” The momentary spell vanished and she nodded.
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He slipped his feet into his boots, which sat on the ground by his cot. He proceeded to rise from the mattress. When he hesitated, Serena went to him and grasped his arm lightly, assisting him to his feet. She found herself inches away from him, and the trance settled over her again. He was so tall, her face was equally at a level with his chest. His masculine scent wafted to her nostrils. “If you would be so kind as to hand me my shirt.” His voice pulled her from her trance. “Oh, of course.” His shirt hung over the back of a folding chair. She held it out for him as he put his bandaged hands through the sleeves and slid the shirt up to rest on his shoulders. “Are you able to button it?” she asked. Aubrey turned around and pulled his shirt closed, but the bandages were too thickly wrapped to allow his fingers to work the buttons. He smiled rather shyly, dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m afraid not.” Serena’s heart and stomach fluttered simultaneously in a mad rush. She forced a smile, feeling her breathing grow irregular. “All right then.” Fighting to steady her hands, she started with his top button. Her gaze pinned itself on the magnificently muscular chest that disappeared button by button, and she resisted the most wicked urge to slip her hands under his shirt and caress him. When she’d finished, the next step, of course, was to tuck the shirttails into his trousers. She stood quietly, avoiding eye contact. His breath sounded slightly ragged, and tension hung thickly in the air between them. “I need to shave,” he told her, “and then I’ll join you outside. Would you please send in one of the bearers?” Serena hesitated, not quite knowing how to tell him that some of the servants had fled, believing him to be the ngatu. Indeed, by his appearance this morning, she found the idea much easier to believe.
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His brow furrowed as he looked at her in concern. “Serena, is something the matter?” She nodded. “I feel bad about telling you this. The bearers have left. All except for Tonga and one other, who went off with my uncle early this morning. They won’t return until tomorrow evening. His breath caught softly. “I see.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Well, I’m sorry about that.” “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” He frowned. “I can see their leaving has disturbed you.” She tilted her head slightly and gazed through the opening of the tent. “Well, Aubrey, to tell you the truth, after nearly being dragged into the water between the jaws of a giant crocodile, a few superstitious men fleeing in fear does pale a bit in comparison.” At her words, relief showed clearly in his face and his eyes brightened. He chuckled. “I suppose it does. Could I trouble you to ask Tonga to bring me some hot water?” She sighed. “It’s no trouble at all.” She turned, nearly getting herself entangled in the mosquito netting. A large hand reached out and pushed it aside for her and she continued out of the tent without looking back.
Aubrey watched Serena cross over to the table under the tree and sit down. Just then Tonga entered the tent, carrying a bowl. “You sit, Sabu,” the Kikuyu man told him. “Your hands will not work to shave.” “Thank you.” Aubrey sat heavily in the folding chair, throwing a glance through the opening in the tent flap. Serena was pouring a cup of tea. Behind him, he heard the swish of the shaving brush in the cup of soap. “I appreciate that you and Mkosa remained with us,” he said as Tonga set the cup down.
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Tonga dipped a cloth in the hot water and pressed it to Aubrey’s cheeks and jaw. “You’re welcome, Sabu.” “I’m just curious as to why you remained when the others left.” Tonga finished dampening Aubrey’s face and picked up the shaving brush and cup. He began to whisk the soap in gentle circles over Aubrey’s stubbled skin. “My people are medicine men and wise women, Sabu,” he answered. “Not afraid of ngatu.” Aubrey’s blood chilled. A prickle spread up his arms and over his back. “So, you believe that’s what I am?” “Not believe, Sabu. Know.” Tonga finished spreading the soap, picked up the razor, and began to shave away Aubrey’s stubble. Tension clawed at Aubrey’s gut. “Have ... Have you known all along?” “No, Sabu. Suspected. Until yesterday.” Tonga ran the razor over Aubrey’s cheeks and jaw with careful strokes, seeming as unconcerned about Aubrey’s condition as if they’d been discussing the weather. “Mkosa and I understand the ngatu. Very rare, but powerful.” He set down the razor and wiped Aubrey’s face clean of soap. He picked up a comb, wet it, and brought Aubrey’s unruly mane under control. Though there was no mirror, Aubrey suspected he now looked almost human again. “Thank you, Tonga.” He stood slowly, his body still stiff, and turned to the older man. “It’s maddening, you know,” he said softly. “I long to be fully human again.” Tonga nodded. “My father always said ngatu is one who fears wholeness.” Aubrey sighed. “Yes, I’ve been told that, as well.” The Kikuyu man pointed toward the opening of the tent. “The woman is half the cure, Sabu.” He placed his palms flat together, as if he were praying. “Two halves,” he went on. “Woman on one side. Open heart on the other.”
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Aubrey stared at him. His heart raced so madly in his chest, he thought it would try to escape. He knew the truth of what Tonga was saying. He could be cured or he could die. “Thank you,” he whispered. Tonga nodded and left the tent. Aubrey followed him and joined Serena at the table. She looked up at him, her blue eyes widening. Then she smiled. He caught his breath. God, she was lovely! Every time he looked at her, he dared to feel some hope. He only prayed she could still smile at him once he’d told her the truth. “How’s breakfast?” he asked as he took the chair opposite her. “Wonderful.” She picked up the teapot and filled his cup for him. “Thank you.” He lifted the teacup with the fingertips of both hands. Serena furrowed her brow. “Are you going to manage?” “Yes. Don’t worry. This is minor.” Tonga set a plate of fried eggs, ham steak, and toast before him. The scent of food turned his attention to the fact that he was ravenous. He grinned as he picked up his knife and fork. “I’ve been through far worse than this in sixteen years of hunting and tracking.” Serena’s eyes clouded. “Minor. If this is minor, I do not wish to hear of what could be major.” He chuckled. “I certainly shall spare you the details.” Serena’s plate was empty, but she sat with him companionably, sipping her tea while he struggled to cut off bits of food. “You must be starved,” he heard her say and looked up to find her watching him, her brow still furrowed with concern. “I can’t help but think it’s a torture for you to cut such small bits.” “It is, actually.”
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A wondrously sweet smile spread across her lips. “I suppose wrestling a crocodile and then not eating for sixteen hours could make you hungry. Perhaps I could cut the food for you ... just this once, to make it easier for you.” Her soft voice held such kindness and eagerness, he immediately set down his knife and fork. “I’d like that. Thank you very much.” “Not at all.” A flush of pink bloomed in her cheeks as she set her cup on the saucer and rose from her chair. She came over to his side of the table, picked up his knife and fork, and began cutting his food. Leaning over him, her intoxicating scent, now familiar, filled his nostrils, and he fought back the urge to pull her onto his lap. Her arm bumped his as she worked, sending jolts of heat through him from the contact. Had he not been so stiff and sore, he would have stood, scooped her up, and carried her into his tent. She finished cutting his food and set down the silverware. “Thank you,” he whispered raggedly. Leaning away from her, he saw her breasts rise and fall heavily, and he remembered the sight of them without her clothing. Soft and lusciously round, the nipples dusky rose and stiffened from the heat of his touch. She was unbelievably lovely. He knew he had to tell her the truth. He looked up at her and their gazes locked, the way they had earlier. She seemed to linger by him. “You’re welcome,” she breathed and went slowly back to her seat. Once Aubrey had had a few mouthfuls of food and a hearty sip of tea, he sat back, studying her. Once again, he noticed the enticing mixture of innocent girl and deeply passionate woman and wanted to know everything he possibly could about her. “Tell me something about yourself, Serena,” he said quietly. She looked down. “There’s not much to tell, really. I’ve lived a quiet life at Blakely Manor in Surrey.” She refilled her teacup. “Theo was very ill, and I was afraid to leave him for long.”
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“I’m sorry, Serena.” She looked up at him. “It’s all right. Since he died, I spent the last three years taking walks with my mother and Aunt Margaret, reading poetry with my cat on my lap, and doing charity work.” She shook her head sadly. “I couldn’t manage much else. I wouldn’t even have left to come here except that I promised Theo I would. He made me promise.” She took a sip of tea. “He always wanted to come here and help his uncle catch the Great Lion.” Sighing, she set her cup down. “But his lungs were so weak, he couldn’t even go past the driveway.” Aubrey was respectfully silent a moment before speaking again. “If I hadn’t been in such an ill temper the other day, I would have told you I admired you for making this journey. It’s not for the faint of heart.” Serena chuckled. “I never considered myself a brave soul.” “Oh, but you are. The way you tended to me yesterday after you yourself had a brush with death. Most others would have folded. I’ve known women who would have continued their search for someone more ... able-bodied, rather than remaining loyal. I find you courageous and sweet, and very beautiful. You’re a true lady.” He paused, watching his words sink in. “Theo was a fortunate man.” A breeze passed through the grove, rustling the coffee leaves, blowing a stray wisp of Serena’s golden hair across one cheek. He resisted the overwhelming urge to reach out and push it back. Serena’s blue eyes misted over. “Thank you, Aubrey. You’re very kind.” “I’m not trying to be kind. I’m telling you the truth.” “Well, then, I’m grateful that you would speak truthfully to me.” She took another sip of tea, appearing thoughtful. “What about you? Tell me.” He sighed. “Well, I come from a line of merchants who made their fortune with the East India Company. I was brought up as a typical gentleman. Eton, then Oxford, with plenty of European travel in between.” He paused and looked down at his half-eaten breakfast.
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Though he had barely eaten enough, the sudden churning in his stomach made the ingestion of food difficult. “The woman I told you I was engaged to was named Marys,” he murmured. The pain stormed over him suddenly, followed by the usual torrent of guilt and self-loathing, all the emotions he’d been fleeing since Marys’s death. His heart pounded uncontrollably. His blood sang in his ears. “As I told you, she was killed on the eve of my graduation.” Serena’s wide blue gaze rested on him. “The train accident,” she breathed. He nodded, feeling as if he were about to jump off a cliff. “What I didn’t say the other day was that I came here because I couldn’t bear the pain. I felt as if I killed her, somehow. If she hadn’t been on that train coming to see me ...” He could feel the weight of his words sift into her consciousness and rubbed viciously at his eyes with thumb and forefinger for several moments. He let out a long, heavy breath and looked back at her. He thought he’d never breathe again while waiting for her response. He started at the sudden delicate pressure of her hand on his arm. The muscle quivered under her touch. “Aubrey, it wasn’t your fault.” Glancing at her, he found his gaze captured in hers. She smiled, her soft pink lips curving upward. “I well understand your sense of guilt. I’ve felt responsible many times for Theo’s ill health. But one day, I realized that blaming myself was a way of feeling in control in a situation that had rendered me utterly powerless.” Astonished, he couldn’t help staring. She was as wise as she was beautiful. “Thank you, Serena. I’ve never spoken to anyone about this until now. Your kind words have healed me a great deal already.” “You’re welcome,” she whispered.
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Aubrey’s relief was short-lived, for in the next moment, he meant to reveal to her the other part of his secret. His heart lurched sharply in his chest and sweat erupted in his palms. “Serena.” She gazed up at him. She sat quite close to him now, and her scent nearly overwhelmed him. The spot on his arm where her hand rested thrilled him and caused his groin to stir alarmingly. He glanced down at her hand. She withdrew it quickly, like a child caught in the act of sneaking sweets before supper. “Yes?” He cleared his throat. “I reflected for a long time this morning on what to ask from you. I still feel you owe me nothing for yesterday. Nothing at all. But it seemed to matter so very much that I thought of something.” She nodded. “Yes, it does matter. Very much.” She watched him, her eyebrows slightly raised. “Whatever it is, Aubrey, I will do my very best to fulfill it.” Aubrey sighed. Again that “teetering on the edge of a cliff” sensation overwhelmed him, and he rested his bandaged hands heavily on the tabletop. He glanced over at Tonga, who sat at the fireside, watching a pot of food over the fire and puffing serenely on a pipe, then back at Serena. “All right,” he breathed. “Here is what I ask of you. I need to tell you something very unbelievable, and I need you to promise to believe me.” Serena stared at him. “Is that all? Of course I’ll believe you.” He exhaled deeply. “No. There’s another part.” “What is it? Anything, I promise.” “The thing I have to tell you that I need you to believe is something I need your help to rid myself of. Before you make another promise, Serena, I should tell you so that you can have a choice. In fact, I would ask that of you, as well.”
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She looked puzzled and a bit wary, but she nodded. “As you wish, Aubrey. I owe you this gift. Please, go ahead. Tell me what it is you need to say, and I’ll believe you.”
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Chapter Seven
“Wait here,” Aubrey said, rising slowly from his chair. “I have something to show you.” Serena nodded and watched him disappear inside his tent. She twisted her napkin in her hands, her heart and stomach fluttering simultaneously. What could he possibly have to ask of her that would cause his grave demeanor? He reappeared momentarily, carrying some rolled-up papers tied with a string. He pulled his chair around so that he sat closer to her, untied the string around the papers, and spread them on the table before her. “These are some drawings I’ve made recently,” he said, holding down the corners with his bandaged hands. Serena looked down at the paper on which was a series of images depicting the complete transformation of a man into a lion and then back to a man. Frame by frame, she recognized the exact same metamorphosis she had witness in her dream, down to the growth of beard to mane and skin to fur coat, the protrusion of claws and fangs, and the change of the pupils from round to diamond-shaped. An eerie chill snaked up her spine as she stared at the drawings. Under normal circumstances, she would have considered the images a product of Aubrey’s imagination. However, she knew without a doubt that normal circumstances did not exist.
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She looked back up at him. “I don’t understand.” Lines of sadness and worry framed Aubrey’s hazel eyes. “When I arrived in Africa, I immediately took to hunting. I never gave any thought to how it felt for the animal to have its life ripped from it for another creature’s idea of sport. All I cared about was running away from my grief over Marys.” Aubrey paused and glanced down at his drawings. The tone of his voice weighed heavily with the same feelings that showed in his eyes. “One day, about eight years ago, I was hunting in Amboseli. I’d been tracking one pride of lions for several days. There was one male, in particular, who’d caught my fancy. He seemed to enjoy the thrill of escaping me. It was almost as if he was toying with me, actively demanding I stretch my skills and work to my utmost limits before he would even let himself get into my sight.” He sighed and pushed a bandaged hand through his hair. “Finally, it did happen. He was sitting on top of a rise near a tree. I was crouched in the grass not twenty yards away, my rifle pointed right at him. I thought he hadn’t noticed me. Of course, that was foolish. I doubt that he’d missed one movement I’d made since I started on his trail. In that moment, he turned and our gazes met. He stared at me, and I at him.” He paused and shifted in his seat. “Serena, I can’t tell you what happened at that moment, for it remains a mystery to me, but something did happen. It was as if our souls fused. I knew everything the beast thought and felt, and I knew that it was the same for him. I put down my rifle, for I could not shoot him any more than I could have another human being. He knew it and rose and walked away. “That’s when it began. The changes. The burning in all my bodily systems. The transformation from human to beast.” Serena stared at him. Her mind suddenly swam heavily, and her vision blurred. Her heartbeat rose to a gallop, and her hands shook as Aubrey’s words sifted into her
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consciousness. This could not be! “Aubrey,” she heard herself say. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He nodded solemnly. “Yes, Serena, I am. I ... am ... the ngatu.” Her breath came now in shallow gasps, and shock propelled her from the chair. She paced madly in front of their table, her arms crossed in front of her. “No, that’s impossible,” she murmured repeatedly as she crossed back and forth in front of him. “It is possible,” he said gently. “That’s why I need you so badly to believe me.” She halted a few feet away from him. “I thought I was dreaming. Those two nights.” She whirled around. “Are you telling me that was you? I wasn’t dreaming?” He nodded, his expression mournful. “I couldn’t help myself, Serena. I couldn’t stay away from you. The pull was one of the most overwhelmingly powerful forces I’ve ever encountered.” Her face burned, and she suddenly felt completely naked. She crossed her arms tightly over her breasts and turned away as the realization settled in more deeply. It had been real. It was Aubrey who had come to her and caressed her. It was Aubrey who had pleasured her with his lips and tongue and caused the blissful explosions. It was Aubrey who had transformed from a human being into a lion on her bedroom floor. He rose from his chair and approached her. “Serena, if I could have not come into your room the way I did, I would not have. I was utterly powerless to stop myself. I swear on my honor, this is true. I would rather die than harm one hair on your head.” Serena took several deep breaths. The plea in Aubrey’s tone seared her heart. The initial shock of his revelation began to lessen, and she remembered that this man was the same man who’d saved her life the day before and had not wanted a single thing in return. She remembered that she had begged him to ask something of her. And this was what he had needed. To bare his soul.
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As for what had happened between them, he hadn’t exactly harmed her. Just the opposite. He’d brought her to ecstatic heights she hadn’t hoped to experience. And she wasn’t exactly an innocent virgin. How many times had Theo made love to her, and she him? How many times had she lifted his nightshirt and climbed on top of him and brought them both to completion? She exhaled a deep breath and turned around. “Forgive me, Aubrey. I’m being unfair. After all, I’m the one who begged you to ask me for something.” Relief washed over his chiseled features. “I’m sorry, Serena. I’ve battled with my conscience over this a million times.” He bowed his head. “Let’s sit back down and discuss this,” she answered softly. He nodded and held her chair out for her. “Now,” she said as he sat down. “Tell me more. What does it feel like? It seems painful.” Aubrey shoved his bandaged hand over his hair again. “Well, at first, being the ngatu was exciting. I could run faster than any man, and was far stronger. I loved eluding hunters, hearing their frustrated complaints in the club over drinks, and chuckling to myself over their ignorance that the quarry after which they lusted sat across the table from them, sipping his port.” He sighed. “The novelty wore thin after only a short while. I grew to hate the deception of it all, of living a double life.” A faraway look came over his hazel eyes. “It’s a kind of horror, not being fully human and not being fully animal, either.” He touched his chest, over his heart. “I feel what those creatures feel, the violation of human encroachment and murder. It’s not a game anymore, Serena,” he added, shaking his head sadly. Serena felt tears well in her eyes. She reached out and put her hand gently over Aubrey’s. “How you must suffer,” she breathed.
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He nodded. “It’s quite painful, the transformation. As you’d guessed. It starts with burning sensations throughout my entire body. The lymphatic system, endocrine, circulatory, and every other. And, well, you saw the other phases.” He looked away briefly as a breeze passed through the campsite, ruffling his hair. “It’s driven me nearly to madness.” She gazed on him as understanding dawned, and all the things her uncle had told her about Aubrey’s strange behavior made sense, including his sudden refusal to hunt. And yet, he had mysteriously agreed to go on this safari. Why? She remembered her uncle’s last letter. Serena, it’s as if the creature is begging to be caught. Even Aubrey, who,
for some Godforsaken reason has refused to hunt any longer, has agreed to go on this quest. Her blood chilled with sudden ferocity. “Aubrey, what are you saying? That you’ve wished to die?” He stiffened. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. It all makes sense. Your refusal to hunt eight years ago, and your sudden willingness to hunt now.” Her eyes widened and her heart lurched. “You were going to let my uncle shoot you, weren’t you?” “Serena ... I --” “He doesn’t even believe in the ngatu. He would have shot you. Aubrey Darnell would have disappeared without a trace, and no one would ever have known. And you would have been put out of your misery.” She bore her gaze into his. “I’m right, am I not? I dare you to deny it.” Aubrey bowed his head, remaining silent. Pain seared her heart. How wretched his existence must have become for him to wish for death. “Oh, Aubrey.” She reached out and cupped his cheek against her palm. “You weren’t going to say anything, were you? You were just going to die.” Aubrey put his hand over hers and squeezed it. For the first time since they’d met, Serena felt a deeper connection to him that enhanced the wild attraction.
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He nodded. “Until yesterday, when you begged me to let you show your gratitude. I saw a last chance that you could help me.” She raised her eyebrows. “Help you? How?” He heaved a deep sigh. “Shortly after this began to happen to me, I met a medicine man. He knew from one look at me that I was an ngatu. I begged him to heal me. He couldn’t, but he told me that if I found my mate and felt my pain, I could be cured.” At the mention of the word mate, heat seared through Serena’s loins, and that familiar erotic pulsing sprang to life between her thighs. She forced her attention back to their discussion. “The problem was,” he continued, “I never found anyone. And then I saw your photograph. The one on Hugh’s mantel.” Her cheeks reddened under his gaze. “My photograph?” Aubrey lifted her hand from his cheek and clasped it gently between his. “Yes. From the moment your uncle placed that photograph on display, I’ve looked at it nearly every day. Hugh spoke of you often, so fondly, and I began to wonder about you. He told me how he was urging you to come visit him in Africa, and I always hoped you would, even though I couldn’t imagine telling you the truth.” His eyes darkened with sadness. “I always sensed you had a gentle heart. I imagined a man could feel safe with you, that you would never judge him or treat him harshly.” Warmth spilled through her heart. “Aubrey, I’d never thought of myself as someone with whom a person would feel safe.” “You are, Serena. I see that now.” He sighed. “The pull I feel toward you, the fascination I’ve had with your picture led me to believe that ... you are very possibly ... the mate Tanenge spoke of.”
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Serena stared at him. Once again, his use of the word mate sent erotic shivers through her body. Her nipples tightened against her chemise, and her body began to melt into pliancy. “Aubrey,” she breathed. “Is that what you wish of me? To be your mate?” His hazel eyes smoldered as he gazed back at her, and his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. He nodded. “You’re the first woman I’ve met since Marys with whom I feel such a connection.” He pressed her hand to his lips. His touch weakened her, made her want to lie down before him, open and willing. “Serena, I want to be human again. Help me, please.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she rose from her chair. Aubrey rose with her, his gaze never leaving hers. She reached out and gently picked up one of his bandaged hands. “Come,” she whispered, “let’s go into your tent.”
At the door of Aubrey’s tent, Serena took hold of the flap and pulled it open for him. He smiled gratefully down at her before stepping through. In the daylight, Aubrey could clearly see how dusky her eyes and skin had become merely from his touch, her lips slightly swollen with desire, seeming to beg for his kiss. He forced himself not to picture her breasts and cleft in the same state of readiness. They were barely in the tent, and his mouth already watered to taste her again down below. The previous night’s coolness remained in the tent, and the shadowy light cast a seductive air to their surroundings. Outside, the wind continued to blow through the grasses and trees, and birdcalls filled the air. He stopped and stood in front of her. She gazed up at him. The blue of her eyes had darkened to deep azure, and her lips parted slightly, a silent invitation to his kiss. Her breasts pressed against her clothes, swollen with readiness for his touch. It was then he remembered his bandaged hands and held them up. “I’m afraid I can’t touch you yet,” he said. His own voice was husky, and his breath came raggedly.
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She raised her hands to his cheeks, sliding her fingertips across them, down his jaw. “We don’t need your hands,” she whispered, her own voice tight with yearning. Her tangy scent rose in the air between them, and his groin tightened. His heart raced, the sound of each beat thundering in his ears. She tilted her head back slightly, her lips parted. The wave of desire swept over him, and he leaned down, taking her mouth. He brought one arm around her back and pulled her against him as he slipped his tongue between her lips, tasting her hungrily. He felt her body melt against his, her softness meld to his rigid muscle. Her surrender stoked his hunger as he suckled her tongue with abandon and breathed in the intoxicating female musk that invaded his senses. Her hands slipped from his jaw to his neck. Her touch was feathery, yet heated. She squeezed his shoulders with greedy hunger, exploring his arms and back as he kissed her. He felt her hands venturing under his shirt, her touch searing his bare skin. She skated her palm around to his front, raking her fingers through his chest hair, pressing them with unrestrained yearning against the hillocks of muscle. With gentle but eager fingertips, she caressed his nipples, causing him to groan into her mouth from the pleasure. His cock strained against his drawers so tightly it became painful. The familiar burning in his bodily systems began to drum through him, and he felt already the rise of the beast inside. He needed release, craved the simple act of burying himself deep inside her, possessing her once and for all. Pulling away from the kiss, he railed at his useless hands, which, had they not been damaged, would already have yanked off her clothes. “I need you,” he breathed. “Yes, Aubrey,” she whispered. For the second time that day, her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt. As soon as she’d opened the last button, she pushed the shirt back down his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. He saw her eyes widen at the sight of his bare chest, and she leaned in, dappling warm, sensuous kisses across it. He moaned as her tongue made a hot, tantalizing trail across each side of his chest, eagerly tasting each nipple.
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“Serena,” he whispered, his chest heaving under her exploring mouth. The exquisite torture drove him to madness, and he scooped her up in one swift motion and set her down on his cot. “Please,” he breathed, gesturing to her blouse. No sooner had he spoken than her fingers were on the buttons of her blouse, swiftly undoing them. When she’d finished, he pushed her blouse past her shoulders and fastened eager lips on her bared skin. Her pale flesh practically melted under his tongue as he tasted every inch of her that was exposed. Serena discarded her corset, then yanked her chemise from the waistband of her breeches and lifted it over her head. Aubrey gazed hungrily on her bare breasts, exquisite orbs of delicate flesh tipped with dusky pink nipples. He took one in his mouth, gently tugging it between his lips and tongue. Serena moaned deep in her throat. She clasped her arms around his head, her fingers entwining themselves deeply in his hair. Her nipple hardened against his tongue, and he moved to the other one, suckling it into an erect peak, as well. “Aubrey,” she breathed, “Please, take me now.” Her words made him groan, and he sat back, wrestling off his boots. He stood up before her, and her hands flew to his trousers. She undid them and yanked them, along with his drawers, down past his hips. His erection sprang free, and before he knew what was happening, Serena leaned forward and took him into her mouth. He groaned again, a deep vibration that echoed the pleasure from her lips and tongue suckling the head while one delicate hand stroked the length of his shaft. Her golden hair had come loose from its pins and flowed freely, cascading down her back and over her shoulders. Aubrey wound his fingers in the soft tresses, torn between wanting to lay her back and take her and the pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. Finally, when she lifted her face away to take a breath, he pushed her gently back onto the cot. “Take off your bottoms, Serena,” he ordered in a husky voice.
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Obediently, she unfastened her breeches and pushed them down. She sat on the cot, kicking off her boots and pulling off her breeches and stockings. Then she lay back, her legs spread apart, her sex glistening and melting open for him. “Aubrey,” she whispered, reaching her arms out to him. She was gazing up at him, her lids heavy from drunken desire. A growl issued from his throat, and he lowered his body on top of hers. Reaching down with one hand, he guided the head of his cock to her slick opening. In one swift thrust, he was buried deep inside her. He mated his mouth to hers, catching her moans of pleasure and plunging his tongue greedily into every hot, moist corner as he began to thrust fervently inside her. She was luscious, like the sweetest, ripest fruit. He felt her hands clutching greedily at his hips and buttocks, pulling him deeper inside her. She was so open and giving, he felt her surrender, physical and emotional, reverberating to his core. Bracing himself on his knees, he drove into her, grinding the base of his cock against her sensitive pleasure spots. Each motion elicited a deep moan of pleasure from her. She tilted her head back, inviting him to taste her skin again. He ventured from her lips, nibbling her jaw and delicate throat, back to her soft, yielding mouth. He loved the way her inner thighs pressed against his hips, loved the feel of her hands groping and exploring his skin and muscles. Her eagerness and utter abandon drove him on, and she exhaled several hard, short breaths, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands clutching his back. He felt the muscles of her sex closing around his cock, squeezing him with delight just before her body went limp, sagging languorously underneath him. Her lips remained parted, inviting his kisses, and she sighed as he continued to move inside her. Her musk flowed in perfect slickness, and he felt his own release building rapidly. Her sheath fit him snugly, massaging his cock in a way he’d never experienced. It was as if her body had been fashioned solely for his enjoyment. The mere thought drove him to madness, and a sudden burst of pleasure gripped his entire body. The waves of climax overcame him,
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and he kissed her deeply until his release had passed completely. Then he covered her body gently with his, breathing heavily. Serena stroked his hair with one hand while her other hand rested splayed on his back. Aubrey pressed his lips against her damp skin, listening to the gentle rise and fall of her breath. The intensity of their lovemaking had rendered him speechless, and all he could do was lie on top of her, pressing her down into the bedding. Only after his heart rate had calmed was he able to speak again. “Thank you, Serena,” he murmured against her skin. “Thank you for opening to me.” Her fingers passed tenderly through his hair. “You’re welcome,” she whispered. “I only pray it works, Aubrey. I don’t want you to suffer anymore.” Her words melted into his heart, and he clung to her, their damp bodies pressed together on the small bed. He found himself wishing that they could remain just like this, never having to move again. “So do I,” he answered, pressing a light kiss into the delicate hollow of her throat.
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Chapter Eight
A soft breeze on her face woke Serena. She opened her eyes and blinked, becoming aware that the air she felt was Aubrey’s quiet breath on her cheek. His chest rose and fell steadily against hers, his muscular body pressing her down into the cot as he slept. She wondered how long they’d been napping, but there was absolutely no way she would be able to get out from under the sleeping giant to have a look at his pocket watch. Glancing at the slant of light and shadows, she guessed they’d been asleep for several hours, having exhausted themselves in the heated frenzy of passion with which they’d made love. Made love. Her heart skipped a beat. That’s what they’d done, wasn’t it? And here, Serena had been convinced she’d never find it in her heart to desire another man after Theo. A wave of guilt washed over her, making her cross. Well, he’d pushed her into it, hadn’t he, making her promise to love again? She knew damn well she’d never have ventured to Africa in the first place had it not been for Theo’s unfulfilled dreams and his amazing talent for getting her to do anything he wanted her to do, including love another man. And what a man Aubrey was! Sighing, she turned her thoughts to the man sleeping on top of her, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks as he slept. His body was pressed so closely to hers, she could feel his
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heart beat against her palm, which rested on his chest. He was truly magnificent. A physically powerful man who’d used his strength to save her life, Aubrey was also sensitive and intelligent. One did not meet such an individual every day. And apparently the admiration was mutual. She sighed again. To think that he felt so tormented by his condition that he wanted to die. She couldn’t bear the thought of that happening. Losing Theo when he was too young had been heartbreak enough. Time was precious. Love was precious. And even though she and Aubrey didn’t know each other well yet, she wanted the chance to know him, to see if the initial passion and regard they shared would last and deepen with time. Aubrey stirred against her and opened his eyes. As soon as he saw her, a gentle smile spread across his face. She returned it. “Hello, Serena,” he whispered. “Hello.” He reached up and brushed the back of his bandaged hand against her skin. “How do you feel, Aubrey?” she asked, caressing his chest where her hand lay. The dark, silky hair sifted through her fingertips. Aubrey pressed a brief kiss on her lips and slowly disengaged his body from hers. He sat up, moving his limbs and pressing his fingertips to his abdomen. After several deep breaths he turned to her. “I feel fine. Not a thing. Usually by this time of day the change is bubbling inside and the hunger to hunt is rising like a fever.” His hazel eyes brightened and he leaned over, claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss. Lifting his mouth from hers, he gazed down at her. “We’ll see in time,” he said softly, “but I can say now I already feel different.” “Halloo!” A voice called in the distance.
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Serena gasped and sat up as she recognized that voice. “My uncle! He’s almost back.” Aubrey sprang from the cot and snatched his clothing from the piles on the floor. Serena found her drawers and breeches and jumped into them. “What do we tell him?” Aubrey asked, handing her her chemise, corset, and blouse. “Nothing, I suppose. I don’t wish to hide our relationship.” He clasped her upper arms and gazed down at her. “Nor do I.” Serena smiled up at him as she swiftly did up her corset and the buttons of her blouse and then helped Aubrey with his shirt. “Halloo!” Uncle Hugh’s voice was closer to the camp. Serena tucked in her blouse and smoothed it down. There was no time to find the pins on the carpet floor, so she patted her hair down and followed Aubrey out of the tent. She waved to her uncle just as he entered the campsite. “Hello, Uncle.” She went up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Hello, my dear. Hello, Aubrey.” He shook hands with Aubrey, then pulled off his helmet, waving it in front of his face. “My God, it’s hot out there.” He sank his large frame into a chair and took a large swig from his canteen. Serena sat across from him and glanced at Aubrey, who also took a seat at the table. “How was your expedition?” Her uncle leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Oh, I think I’m nearing the end of my days on safari, Serena.” He continued to wave his helmet in front him. “I say, the wily bugger’s escaped me again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had advance warning of my coming.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand the creature. I’d say he’s toying with me.” Uncle Hugh sighed and handed his helmet to Tonga, who’d set a pot of tea on the table. “I mean what I say. I believe that my hunting days are drawing to a close.” Serena shot a glance at Aubrey, whose expression did not denote what he was feeling. She turned back to her uncle. “Uncle, I’m sorry you’ve been so disappointed.”
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Hugh patted her hand. “You’re very kind, my dear, but I shall go on. You know me.” She nodded. “Yes, I do.” “And how are you both? How are your hands, Aubrey?” Aubrey held up his bandaged hands. “Useless, I’m afraid.” “Yes, Uncle. Thank God Aubrey isn’t ill from what happened, but it would be better if he were at home.” Hugh nodded and took a hearty sip of the tea Tonga had poured for him. “You’re right, my dear.” He sighed. “I could have lost you if it weren’t for Aubrey, Serena. My dear niece. My insistence on hunting is inexcusable. I felt it today. The activity has completely lost its glory for me. I suggest we turn in early and head out by sunrise. She nodded. “Yes, sunrise. I’ll be ready.”
***** “Serena?” Aubrey’s deep voice carried through the shadowy light of her tent. Outside, the song of the night crickets filled the air. Serena sat on the edge of her cot, in her nightgown, brushing out her hair. She turned at the sound of Aubrey’s voice. He stood at the opening to her tent. “Come in.” The sight of him coming toward her filled her with unexpected warmth. “Do you need your bandages checked?” He shook his head and came and knelt in front of her. “No. You just changed them an hour ago.” He sighed. The lantern light danced on his chiseled features, outlining the strong planes and angles of his face. “I ... missed you, being in my tent without you there. I wished for your company. Is it all right?” She smiled and reached out, brushing her fingertips across his cheek. “Of course.” He covered her hand with his, turning to press his lips into her palm. Lifting his mouth away from her hand, he gazed at her. “Serena, I wanted you to know something.”
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“Yes?” He cleared his throat, a gesture she now recognized he did when he was nervous. Somehow, knowing that about him was endearing, like the way she used to know that Theo tugged at his earlobe when he felt annoyed. “I wanted you to know that ... what happened today ... between us ... meant everything to me. I don’t see it simply as an act to cure my ... problem. Do you understand?” Reaching out, she slid her hand to the back of his neck, letting her fingers entwine in his dark mane. “Yes, I understand.” Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his, softly at first, then with growing heat. She slipped her tongue between his lips, hearing him groan. Aubrey rested his bandaged hands on her shoulders as he responded to her kiss, mating his mouth to hers, seeking and plundering her tongue and lips with tender passion. His kiss moved gradually from her mouth in a heated trail down her neck to her breasts, which he tasted through the soft material of her nightgown. Suddenly, Hugh’s voice could be heard, giving instructions to Tonga and Mkosa about leaving the next morning. Aubrey pulled away, his chest heaving. He leaned back on his heels, a sheepish grin on his lips. “I’m sorry, Serena. I’d rather wait for some privacy.” She nodded. “Yes, so would I. I don’t wish to be secretive, but nor do I want an audience.” Aubrey rose to his feet, gently drawing Serena to hers. He pulled her into an embrace. She rested her cheek against the hard muscle of his chest, finding it one of the most agreeable places to rest she’d ever experienced. Her heart squeezed with a mixture of sweetness and pain. How she hoped that Aubrey would be cured. She wanted more of this delicious passion and tenderness they seemed to be finding. She wanted time. Aubrey ended their embrace and pressed his lips to hers. “Good night, Serena. Sleep well.”
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“You, too. Good night.” Reluctantly, he turned and left the tent. She remained in her spot for several moments after he’d left, clenching her fists.
Am I free? Aubrey sat down on his cot and stared at his hands. Normal human hands with no sign of emerging feline characteristics. He rested them on his thighs and sat quietly, waiting for any signs of change. No burning. No tingling. No ravenous hungers. No fangs or fur or claws. He exhaled a deep breath. Tears crowded his eyes. God bless Serena. What a woman she was. He couldn’t imagine any of the women he’d met in recent years who would have made love to him knowing the truth. He realized in that moment why he had wanted to be human again. He did want to live. He wanted to love. The truth, if he was honest with himself, was that from the first moment he’d seen Serena’s photograph, the impulse for love and passion had reawakened his heart. Aubrey lay down fully dressed, staring up into the shadows, his hands resting at his sides. Sleep was difficult not because he and Serena had napped for several hours, but because his long habit of being a nocturnal creature was still with him. How glorious it felt to simply lie back and stare into space, his body not plagued by grotesque yearnings and metamorphoses. He didn’t understand why making love with Serena had effected this change, but he was grateful and prayed that it continued.
***** Aubrey’s prayer had not been answered. The burning began shortly before they had trekked to the border of the game preserve. The gnawing hunger began to growl deep in his
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belly. Serena walked a few feet behind him, and suddenly the scent of her musk pervaded his nostrils, intoxicating him. He fought the urge to turn, grab her up, and drag her into the bushes. He glanced at her over his shoulder. She was concentrating on stepping through the grass, her eyes hidden by the brim of her helmet, but she must have sensed his gaze. She looked up at him, her face immediately crinkling with concern. “Aubrey, is something the matter?” Hugh had continued on, and Aubrey let Tonga and Mkosa pass him with the mules bearing the supplies. Serena stopped in front of him and grasped his arm. “What is it? You’re not ill?” “It’s happening,” he muttered. “I’m changing right now.” She gasped. “But I thought --” “So did I. Perhaps it takes more time. In any case, I mustn’t go back with you now. It’s too late to do anything at the moment.” “What should I do?” Aubrey unslung his rifle and handed it to her. “Take this back and wait for me tonight in my cottage. I’ll come back to you there when the time is right.” “Aubrey, are you certain? Shouldn’t I stay with you?” He leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. “There’s no need. You’re better off at your uncle’s home. I promise I’ll come back.” She nodded. “I’ll think of something to tell my uncle.” “You can tell him I stopped off to visit in the shamba. I have friends among the natives.” “All right. See you soon, I hope.” “As soon as I’m able.”
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He stood and watched her turn and hurry to catch up with her uncle. Right then, a pang in his heart told him how much he’d miss her until dawn.
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Chapter Nine
That night after bidding her uncle good night, Serena went to Aubrey’s cottage to wait for him. She went in and lit a lantern, setting it on a side table. The shadowy light illumined the interior. Dark wood, overstuffed leather couch and chair, a phonograph player on a nearby table, and what appeared to be a small study in the corner, with desk and bookcase. A feeling of coziness enveloped her. She felt immediately at home. She wandered into the little room, over to the phonograph player. Her eyes, having adjusted to the shadows, could make out the titles on a stack of albums next to the machine.
The H.M.S. Pinafore. Gilbert and Sullivan. On the turntable, Serena saw Gianni Schicchi, the opera that had wafted out on the air two nights ago. The association touched off a faint pulsing between her thighs. Warm memories of their lovemaking flooded her mind, and she found herself anxious to see him again. She tried not to let her mind worry over where he was or what might or might not be happening to him. The most important part was that he no longer wanted to die. She wandered to his desk, the surface of which was strewn with open books. Shamelessly, she peered at the contents, furrowing her brow at the scattering of anatomical
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terms on the pages. Medical books. Of course. Aubrey had been studying the human systems in his search for answers and solutions. Her heart ached for him, for all he had been through that led up to him having wished to be hunted down. Serena went into Aubrey’s bedroom. The sight of his neatly made brass bed set her body on fire. She wished he were with her right now, pressing her body into the soft mattress with his large, muscular one. Her thoughts were flooded with images of his sinewy torso, the swirls of luxurious dark hair on his chest, the trail of it down his taut stomach to a nest surrounding his thick, hard member. He was truly magnificent. Her body now pulsing with desire, Serena removed her blouse, corset, and skirts and hung them over a chair. Aubrey had a table and mirror. She found a comb and pulled the pins from her hair, watching her reflection as she combed it. In the lamplight, she saw that the pinkness she had attributed to blushing was actually a touch of sunburn. Her formerly porcelain skin, now sunburned, would soon begin to peel and freckle. Her mother would have scolded her, as she often had over the years. What else could she do with a daughter who did not bow to the conventions of her society? If Serena had, she would never have had the long-term love affair with Theo. And she would never have gotten involved with Aubrey Darnell. No, for all her faults, she was glad for her inner strength, for the determination she’d always felt in her heart to honor love above all else. Remaining in her chemise and drawers, she pulled back the covers and climbed into Aubrey’s bed. A breeze passed through the open shutters, caressing her face. Right then, she imagined Aubrey out on the plains somewhere. Perhaps that same breeze was blowing through his mane. She wondered if he thought about her, or if he could think about her in his leonine state. She wished dawn would come soon.
Serena’s eyes popped open, and she stared into the darkness. The now-familiar animal musk pervaded the air, filling her senses with its overpowering spice.
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Through the open window, the breeze carried the tangy scent through the bedroom along with the silver light of the full moon. Her heartbeat quickened. He was here. The tang of his musk enveloped her, causing her nipples to pebble and tingle. She sat up just in time to see him emerge from the shadows. The tremendous creature padded toward her, his powerful body moving with liquid grace, undulating ripples of motion in its muscles. The lion’s breathing echoed in Serena’s ears, a strong, steady whisper of exhalations that grew louder as he drew closer, stopping at the side of his bed, his large head hovering over her. His emerald-and-gold eyes glinted like two small suns, with the slightest movement of his giant, feline head. The now familiar musk emanated from his powerful body and thick shag of mane. Serena’s body stirred wildly as the creature’s gaze transfixed hers. The animal inclined its head, and she caught her breath as it bumped her cheek with its feline muzzle. Serena reached up and rested her hand in its mane, allowing his purring to resound through her entire body. The beast bent and nudged her again, this time against her hand, gentle, insistent bumps that pushed Serena back against the pillows. Her reaching hands froze in midair, and the creature insinuated its huge head between them, resting the wide, flat expanse of its tawny muzzle against her, between her breasts. Gingerly, Serena laced her fingers deeply into the soft, luxurious mane. The beast’s purring vibrated pleasurably through her hands and in every inch of her body. Serena felt as if a million gentle fingertips caressed her. Her eyes fluttered closed as her body loosened, nerves unclenching, her skin absorbing the extraordinary bliss. The creature’s breathing grew suddenly heavy, labored, its tawny sides heaving. He pulled away, backing several steps from the bed.
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Alarmed, Serena sat up and leaned over. “Aubrey!” He did not seem to hear her. The room filled with the sound of his labored breathing, and the moonlight silhouetted his large form. He appeared to be in terrible pain, causing her to wince with each low growl that escaped his throat. She clambered off the bed and crouched by him, her hand stroking his tawny mane. “You poor thing,” she murmured, stroking him. For what seemed a long time, Serena sat on the rug by him, caressing his head, watching the fascinating transformation before her. As the moments passed, the animal’s limbs changed shape, the coat of hair disappearing, replaced by human flesh. The claws and fangs receded into human nails and teeth, and his mane shortened into Aubrey’s dark, riotous locks. After a while, he was the bearded man who had first come to her in her bedroom. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. The color of his irises were still leonine, the flecks of gold glinting with the smallest movement of his head. But he was all man. “Aubrey,” Serena whispered. She reached out and cupped his cheek. “I missed you so much.” She wasn’t certain he understood, but he sat up slowly and wrapped his muscular arms around her, pressing his face into her neck. His beard tickled her bare skin, and she felt his lips on her neck, a hint of the tongue’s moisture, tasting the flesh at the base of her throat. She shivered from pleasure under his exploring mouth and entwined her fingers in his soft, unruly hair. His closeness intoxicated her, the warm masculine flesh against hers, the silky mane threaded around her fingers. His scent, that indescribable musk tempered now from his change to human form, mingled with spice, like a most exotic cologne. Slowly, sensuously, he trailed his tongue up her throat, along her jaw, toward her lips. In one swift motion, he kissed her, taking wild, tender possession of her mouth. His taste, spicy and strong, was heady, and she eagerly parted her lips. His tongue slipped deliciously between them and met hers in a moist, tentative touch, like two creatures circling each
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other, measuring. Serena weakened rapidly with each surge of his tongue against hers. She let her hands slide from his hair, down his shoulders, and over the hillocks of muscle in his back, which quivered under her touch. Between her legs, her cleft swelled and moistened, aching for the thrust of his hard cock. He plundered her mouth, his tongue searing hers with abandon. Serena let her hands wander from his back to his hips. As real as he felt in her arms, this man, lion, whatever he was, would be gone once she awakened. At the contact of her palms on his hips, he moaned and tugged at her chemise, pushing it upward, exposing her breasts. He pulled gently away from their kiss long enough to let her lift her chemise off and drop it on the floor. Then she reached down with one hand and pulled aside the bedcovers, offering him her naked body. The ragged sound of his breathing filled Serena’s ears as his scent filled her nostrils. He watched her, seeming reluctant. Serena moved over on the mattress. “Come,” she whispered, patting the empty space beside her. His large, muscular body filled the bed, partially covering her. She parted her thighs, aching for him to possess her. Her musk had gathered and seeped out, and she hoped her female scent would rouse him to accept what she offered. She reached up and touched his cheek, burying her fingertips in the silky beard. She felt the strength, the tensing of the muscles beneath her fingertips. She waited. In the next moment, Serena felt his touch on her chest, just above her right breast. She caught her breath as he began to trace a line downward, over the soft fullness of her breast, around the dusky pink of her areola and nipple, teasing it to stiffness. Her chest rose and fell raggedly, her gaze transfixed on the fingertips as they traced their way downward, over her ribcage, across the soft flesh of her belly, and lower. Only
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then did he move his body, following the direction of his hands, seeming utterly absorbed in his exploration. His lips grazed her soft belly as he slid down. With gentle fingertips, he parted the lips of her cleft, lowering his face to her clit. His breath caressed the swollen flesh just before he seared it with his tongue. Each stroke sent a hot jolt through Serena’s cleft, procuring her complete and utter surrender. Her body felt like molten liquid under his tongue and large hands, which now closed over her breasts, his fingertips kneading the tender nipples. She moaned and writhed under his mouth, her body careening swiftly to ecstatic release. He answered her erotic thrashing by taking her clit between his teeth and suckling firmly. He withdrew one hand from her breast and inserted two large fingers inside her, sliding them in and out. Serena could not hold on. Her orgasm erupted, blissful spasms that he drew out by rubbing and teasing her clit until the last one passed. Serena fell limp, her breasts rising and falling with her spent passion. She gazed down at him, at the emerald glitter of his eyes, watching her from where he crouched between her thighs in the afterglow of her climax. Droplets of her musk clung to his beard, and his breathing was ragged with his obvious need to take her. “Come,” she whispered, holding her arms out. A low growl emanated from his throat, and he sprang forward, covering her body with his brawny frame, his groin nesting between her parted thighs. Serena caught her breath at the sensation of his hard erection pressing into her slit. In tiny movements, he slid up and down along the moist cleft, flowing readily with musk, until he found her opening with the head. Gently he pushed in, just a few inches, lowering his lips to her mouth for a deep, hot kiss.
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Serena tasted her cream on his lips and beard. The tangy, erotic flavor reawakened her desire. She spread her legs as wide apart as she could to allow him to slide in more easily. He pushed in, slowly, filling her with his hard, thick length. He lifted his lips from their kiss and bent his head to Serena’s breast, suckling tenderly on the nipple. Serena moaned softly as the pleasurable sensation traveled through her body and into her crotch. She bucked her hips lightly against his, bringing him all the way into her slick channel. Once joined, he moved in and out of her, a low growl in his throat. Serena’s hands stole down to his buttocks. They were rock hard, the muscles tense, quivering under her hands. Another low growl issued from his throat, and in one swift push, he buried his cock inside her. He paused when Serena gasped, and he waited, one large hand caressing her hair. Staring up into his eyes, her heart surged. His body was joined with hers, and she felt even more deeply how she belonged to him now. She began to caress his hips, encouraging him to move inside her. He responded in long, slow thrusts, interrupted by searing kisses. Serena’s hands roamed over his buttocks and thighs and strong back, her soft hands filling with hard muscle. She couldn’t have imagined a more gentle, passionate lover. He began to move a bit faster, reaching down and slicking his fingertips back and forth over her clit, just above the joining of their bodies. The sensation brought Serena’s body into the flow of pleasure, and she began to moan as another climax built. Faster and faster he thrust, deep inside her as his fingertips worked at her engorged nub. Serena grasped his buttocks, following the movements of his strokes. His lips rested on her neck, warm and soft. Serena’s eyes fluttered closed as the tension in her swollen clit tightened. When the orgasm erupted, Serena cried out, her chest heaving with ecstatic breaths.
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His cock was still hard inside her, and he raised himself up, his palms pressed into the mattress on either side of her. Serena spread her legs wide, her knees reaching up to her shoulders, and she watched him thrust in and out of her, the flexing muscles of his arms and chest bathed in the moonlight. His moans filled Serena’s ears, and his cock throbbed inside of her. He began to climax, his warm seed spilling against her womb. He collapsed gently onto her, his body damp with perspiration. Serena embraced him, loving the feel of his heated strength against her softness. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear. His nuzzled her cheek in response. She lay in his arms, listening to the sounds of the night until the heaviness of sleep weighed down her eyelids and she drifted off, a smile on her lips.
Aubrey woke first. Serena still lay in his arms, her soft, supple body molded to his. Waking up next to her was an incredible pleasure. He sighed. They wanted each other so much. Mutual passion burned in them. And more, they found comfort and sweetness in each other. Friendship. What they’d found was truly rare. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing it. She stirred. He caught his breath. She sighed and started to turn over, only to find her way blocked by his large body. One slender hand met with the bulge of his chest, rubbing it as if to assure her it was real, fingertips skating through the thick hair. Seeming satisfied, she snuggled against him again, closing her eyes drowsily. “Thank God,” she murmured as she molded her naked form to his. He kissed the top of her head. “I missed you,” he whispered, pulling her closer.
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“Let me see your hands.” Tenderly, she lifted his hand off her stomach. Of course, the bandages had come off during his time on the plains, but the cuts had already begun to heal. “I’m going to bandage them again,” she told him. “Not as heavily, but they need to be protected.” She started to rise, but Aubrey gave her a playful tug back into his arms. “Not just yet,” he said, burying his lips into her hair. “I love holding you.” Serena turned over so her face was close to his, her sweet lips curved in a smile. Her blue eyes gazed at him from under sleepy lids, and her golden hair hung in wild tendrils around her face. “It’s mutual,” she said softly. The very sight of her got him hard again, and he spent a long time exploring her body with his hands and mouth. The feral urgency that had gripped him in their previous encounters had subsided, and he was able to take the time to learn every inch of her luscious body, every birthmark on her pale, smooth skin, the downy hairs on her forearms. He circled each dusky pink nipple with the tip of his tongue until it pebbled to stiffness. Her hands fisted into his hair, and she whispered his name over and over. Her body fell open for him, moist and ready, and he took her slowly, in long, languorous strokes, bringing her to completion several times before reaching his own. When they were lying quietly again, their bodies damp from passion, he stroked her hair. “Serena, I want to make love with you every day. I’ve not felt this content in my entire life.” Serena remained silent, and he felt her tense in his arms. His hand stopped on her hair. “Is something the matter?” She turned and looked up, concerned. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. I didn’t mean to not answer you.” She sighed. “I was thinking that I hope you’ll feel this way once we know whether you’re cured or not.” He cleared his throat as a chill passed up his spine. “You don’t think ... I’m cured?”
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She gazed up at him, her eyes lined with worry. Her hand came up and cupped his cheek. “I don’t know, Aubrey,” she whispered. “I was remembering what you told me the other day about what the medicine man said to you.” He considered a moment before it hit him. Feel pain or it will come back, Tanenge had said. You will always be ngatu. “Yes, Serena, I remember.” “Have you felt it?” Her hand slid from his cheek, down his throat to his shoulder, and rested there. “The pain, I mean.” He sighed and sagged back against the pillows. “I don’t believe so. Not yet.” Serena rose up on one elbow. The hand that had rested on his shoulder now splayed on his chest, her fingertips winding through the hair. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “It’s all right, Aubrey,” she told him in a voice that caressed his heart. “I know from my own experience that the heart takes the time it needs to heal. We needn’t push.” Aubrey cradled the back of her head in his hand. Her words pulsed through him like gentle waves. “Serena, I do believe you’re the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met.” He punctuated his statement with a deep, tender kiss.
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Chapter Ten
Three weeks later ...
“I think I’m healed, Serena.” Aubrey pulled Serena into his arms after their fevered lovemaking. Perspiration molded their naked bodies together. The late afternoon slanted shafts of sunlight between the large slats of the blinds. “I haven’t changed once in the three weeks since we returned.” Serena pressed her cheek into his chest, nuzzling the soft swirls of dark hair covering the hard muscles. A small doubt snaked through her heart at Aubrey’s statement, although it was true he did seem to have regained his full humanness. She supposed that their lovemaking had opened his heart sufficiently to have restored him. Then she realized something else. She didn’t care if he did remain the ngatu, not for her sake, anyway. The realization propelled her upward, and she raised her body, resting on an elbow. Staring down into his eyes, she watched them glow at her like green-gold pools. His hair, damp with perspiration, clung around his cheeks and forehead. He looked both strong and vulnerable at the same time, making her heart ache in a sweet way. Her heart began to pound, and she took a deep breath as the truth hit her. She loved him.
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“Aubrey,” she said softly, “I don’t care if you’re the ngatu. I mean, I ... I love you, no matter what. She swore that Aubrey’s eyes misted over as he reached up to touch her cheek. His hands were nearly all healed and no longer needed the bandages. Deep, angry scars reddened his hands, but she didn’t care. She loved every single part of him. Completely. “Serena,” he whispered, “you don’t know what that means to me.” She waited for him to answer in kind, to declare love for her, but he remained silent, gazing up at her. “What is it, Aubrey?” He sighed and gently pulled her down into his arms again. “I don’t know,” he answered softly. Serena’s heart sank, and her mind tumbled in confusion. Aubrey’s affection for her was unmistakable. She felt it in his kiss and in the way he looked at her and touched her. He’d certainly kept his word about making love to her every day. In between showing her around the farm and introducing her to the schoolchildren and missionaries in the area, they stole away to his cottage, mostly in the late afternoons, to be together. There was never a time he didn’t break into a smile when he saw her, and her uncle remarked to her nearly every day how different Aubrey seemed. Perhaps he truly hadn’t worked through the very emotions that had made him the ngatu. Perhaps what he felt for her wasn’t strong enough to make him want to face his demons. And yet, he seemed to have recovered from being the ngatu. “Maybe I’m not truly the one who will help you heal,” she said in a quiet voice.
Icy fingers closed around Aubrey’s heart. The sudden tension in Serena’s body radiated into him. “I refuse to believe that,” he murmured. He knew what she’d wanted him to say and gritted inwardly at himself for not allowing the words to spill from his heart through his mouth. He did love her. From that first look at her photograph more than three years earlier,
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he’d known she was meant for him. He loved everything about her, especially the way her soft body fit against his and the darkening shades of blue in her eyes when she gazed on him with desire. Not even Marys had ever looked at him quite like that. The recognition of that truth only added to the guilt he was already feeling. Marys had died because she’d been on her way to see him. Her father had wanted her to marry someone else, yet she’d refused a match based on financial or political advantage for her family. She’d admired Aubrey, respected him. She’d found him the most handsome man she could imagine and told him so. All this time, he’d felt he owed her his loyalty because she’d died loving him ... “Clearly, I am healed,” he added, feeling her pull away emotionally. Serena disengaged herself from his arms and turned to look at him. Her blue eyes melted with sadness. “I’m not certain of that, Aubrey.” She sighed. “Perhaps it’s different for me,” she continued after several moments. “I’m fulfilling a promise. That has allowed me to be free.” She looked away, seeming to stare at the ceiling. A long sigh stole from her throat. “Perhaps it’s me. I can be quite smothering. Theo used to have to beg me to let him alone to write his poetry. I know it’s a fault of mine. Perhaps you need a space to breathe and sort out your feelings. After all, I practically forced myself on you that day. You didn’t want anything in return for having saved me, but I wouldn’t let up on you until you asked.” She fell silent, and Aubrey knew from the tone in her voice that she was sincere. She wasn’t trying to wrench any answers from him. Still, he wanted to cry out No! He didn’t need space from her. If anything, her presence soothed him. He wondered how many women would have stood by him, knowing he wasn’t fully human. Yet he remained silent as if an invisible hand were clapped over his mouth. She rose from the bed and began to dress. “It’s all right, Aubrey, I understand.” He watched her pull on her drawers and chemise. For a moment, he forgot his distress in the act of witnessing her stockings being slid up her legs, over her thighs, and fastened with the
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garters of her corset. Her skin was smooth and milky, and the swell of her hips made his mouth water. She buttoned up her blouse and slipped on her skirts. In moments, she would be leaving his cottage. The thought made panic rise. He sat up abruptly. Never before had he stood on the emotional precipice where he found himself now. He’d always run from its edge. Marys’s face flashed before him, forcing him back. “See you at supper, then.” She seemed to hesitate, waiting for him to say something else. “Of course.” He gritted inwardly again at his impotence, at the grip of guilt on his soul. Serena turned and left.
***** “Uncle Hugh?” Serena looked her uncle in the eyes when he glanced up from his newspaper. Her stomach lurched, and under the table she grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, painfully aware of Aubrey seated across from her. “What is it, my dear? You do look troubled.” “Well ... I’m thinking of going back to England.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aubrey snap to attention. “Leave? Back to England? Whatever for? You’ve barely just arrived, and you’re going to turn around and make that arduous journey back?” Hugh dropped the newspaper to the table and pushed his chair closer, his white eyebrows drawn together over his concerned gaze. “What’s the matter, Reenie? Aren’t you happy here?” Serena’s eyes stung with unshed tears. How could she possibly explain? “It’s not that, Uncle. I am ... happy. You and ... Aubrey have been wonderful hosts. It’s just ... Mother. I believe she’s lonely without me there.”
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Hugh sighed, reaching out a beefy hand to place over hers. “You’re a very caring daughter. I understand loneliness. I wouldn’t try to keep you if she needs you.” “Thank you, Uncle Hugh.” Serena looked down, painfully aware of Aubrey’s gaze. Her uncle did not seem to sense it, but Aubrey’s tension filled the air around her. She heard Aubrey clear his throat, heard the scrape of his chair as he stood. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said. Serena’s heart flopped in her chest as she nodded. She looked back down, listening to Aubrey open and close the French doors onto the terrace. “I’m so sorry to have you leave, Reenie.”
Back in her bedroom, Serena opened her steamer trunk and began putting her clothing in. Her heart pounded furiously, and she fought back tears. A knock at her French doors made her freeze, her gaze caught on the large shadow looming on the curtains. “Serena? Are you in there?” Aubrey’s voice carried through the doors. He sounded frantic. At first she remained silent, hoping he’d go away, but he knocked again. “If you’re in there, Serena, please open the door. We must talk.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Yes, I’m here.” Her stomach clenching with each step, she slowly made her way over to the doors and peeked out. Aubrey loomed in front of her, his hazel eyes drenched in worry and sadness. His distress was palpable. “May I have a word?” Serena nodded. Her impulse was to step back and let him in, until she realized this was her bedroom. Bad choice. She stepped out onto the terrace, pulling the door shut behind her. Aubrey stared down at her, raking a large hand through his hair. “Must you leave?”
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“I must, Aubrey. I’m sorry. I ... can’t stay now. It hurts too much knowing the truth.”
He reached out to her, but she moved away. “Serena, not yet. Give it more time.” “Time isn’t the issue, Aubrey. It’s the person. It’s not me. I ... I wanted it to be, but I’m not. I see that. You’ll find someone else.” “There is no one else. There can’t be.” “If that were true, you’d be able to say you love me. You couldn’t say it yesterday.” “I know. I ...” He fell silent, disgusted with himself. He had to say something, even though it wasn’t the something he needed to say. “Serena, you’ll still go with me, won’t you?” Her brow furrowed. “Go with you?” “Yes, tomorrow night. There’s a dance at the new government hall.” She stood by the foot of the bed, staring at him the way she had the first time she witnessed his transformation from man to lion. She sighed. “I suppose so. If you want me to.” “I do, most definitely.” “I don’t know what that will help, but I’ll go.” She looked at him, an errant tear rolling from one of her blue eyes.
Serena walked into the living, dressed for the ball. Aubrey’s blood raced as he and Hugh stood up. Her silken hair was gathered into a loose topknot. Shimmering golden tendrils whispered against her sun-kissed cheeks as she moved. She wore a gown of dark red velvet, with a matching wrap and satin gloves to her elbows. He couldn’t help but stare. The sight of her touched off a disturbingly familiar burning sensation deep in his body.
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Hugh stepped forward and picked up one of her gloved hands. “Reenie, you’re breathtaking, my dear.” “Thank you, Uncle Hugh.” They both glanced at Aubrey, and Hugh chuckled. “The poor lad’s all choked up at the sight of such beauty.” Aubrey stared. A sudden shard of pain shot through his insides. The familiar burning he’d not experienced in nearly a month now smoldered inside. Good God! He was starting to change! He turned abruptly so neither Hugh nor Serena would see the horror he was certain showed on his face. He’d been so certain he was healed! He led them out to the drive where he’d left the wagon, hitched and ready. Thunder rumbled in the distance as Aubrey assisted Serena onto the seat. “Rain will come before sunrise,” Hugh said as he seated himself next to Serena. “I have umbrellas,” Aubrey answered. “Just in case.” He climbed onto the seat and gathered up the reins. Serena sat beside him. Her rose-scented perfume mixed with the wild musk of her sex intoxicated him, and he gritted his teeth, fighting off the feral urges that were gripping his body. Had Hugh not been in the wagon with them, he could have told her what was happening, but as it was, he remained silent in his torture. As they neared the government hall, waltz music emanated from the wooden building with its wide verandas and surrounding French doors through which poured the glow of gaslights. Aubrey assisted Serena down, offering an arm to escort her inside. Gingerly, she linked her arm through his, lightly resting her palm on his forearm. She avoided direct eye contact with him, so he could not even communicate his distress to her nonverbally. The simple touch of her gloved hand on his arm caused a surge through his lymphatic system.
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Strolling through the crowd of elegantly gowned women and tuxedoed men, Aubrey introduced Serena to several of them, including Lady Abigail Densham. Lady Abigail’s husband was in the government, and Lady Abigail herself was president of the Women’s Club of Nairobi. She was a charming older woman in a green gown with a headdress of peacock feathers. She immediately engaged Serena in conversation. He stood at her side, aware of the looks Serena received from men in the room. Yet although Serena seemed oblivious to them as she answered Lady Abigail’s questions, Aubrey experienced a wild possessiveness, as if threatened by another alpha male on the plains. He ground his teeth, suppressing the urge to growl. “Miss Blakely, you must join the Women’s Club. I will personally recommend you to the committee.” “That’s very kind of you, ma’am, but actually, I’m going back ...” Aubrey missed the end of her sentence when he saw Clyde Overleaf threading through the crowd, heading in his direction. Overleaf, a fellow hunter and club member, was also a notorious skirt chaser. Admittedly, he was an attractive man, with chestnut hair and sharp features, whom women found charming. Even more reason to steer Serena away from him. Overleaf, no doubt, would flirt with her immediately and charm her into dancing with him. Aubrey fought with every ounce of his strength the horrific urge to pounce on Overleaf and wrap his jaws around the man’s throat. Thankfully, the orchestra struck up a new waltz just as Overleaf drew closer. Lightly, Aubrey grasped Serena’s elbow. “Forgive me, Lady Abigail,” he said to the older woman. “I would ask Serena for this dance.” “By all means, Mr. Darnell.” “Well, I ...” Serena began as Aubrey steered her gently but firmly to the dance floor.
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“Dance with me, Serena.” He put one hand on her waist and clasped the other over her hand, swinging her easily into a waltz step. Serena fell gracefully into step with him, and he felt her relax under his lead. “What was the meaning of that?” she asked. “Of what?” “Of pulling me away from Lady Abigail so abruptly.” Aubrey gazed down into her wide azure eyes, wishing he could drown in them. “I was afraid a hunter was about to make you his prey.” She studied his face as they danced, a sudden deep frown marring her smooth cheeks. “Aubrey, your eyes.” “I love your eyes, too, Serena.” “No, I mean your eyes. They’re ... changing.” Aubrey’s blood chilled. He felt the thickening beard roiling just under the surface of his skin. His heartbeat galloped, and he began to waltz Serena off the floor. Overleaf materialized from the corner of his eye, standing at the edge of the crowd, speaking to Alicia Greenwood, an attractive redhead whom Aubrey was certain Overleaf had bedded. His animal instincts told him that Overleaf was watching for his chance to cut in. He turned and waltzed Serena toward the other side of the room. “Aubrey, you’re ... changing, aren’t you?” “Yes,” he murmured as they gracefully reached the edge of the dance floor. “I thought you were healed.” “So did I.” He grasped her hand and pulled her in the direction of the French doors. The milling people slowed them down. “Darnell!”
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Overleaf. Damn! Aubrey gritted his teeth. Fleetingly, he thought how predatory the other man was, more so than he himself, who roamed the plains at night, ripping zebras and cows apart in his jaws. Overleaf clapped Aubrey on the shoulder. “Darnell! How’ve you been, chap?” Briefly, he clasped Aubrey’s hand, but his hungry gaze was on Serena. “Introduce us, Darnell.” Aubrey glanced sharply at him, but Overleaf did not notice. “Serena Blakely, Clyde Overleaf.” “Ah! Hugh’s niece! I was wondering when we’d all have the great pleasure.” He picked up her hand, pressing a kiss onto the satin of her glove. Aubrey nearly growled again. He felt the sharpening claws poking underneath his fingertips. If they didn’t get out of the room, Overleaf was in trouble. The music began again, and Overleaf still held Serena’s hand. Aubrey watched her, expecting that same glazed expression most women had under Overleaf’s attention. However, she appeared bewildered and uncomfortable. “May I?” Overleaf asked her. She smiled, although pain simmered in her expression. “I’m sorry, sir.” Delicately she pulled her hand away and glanced at Aubrey. “Please, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned and made her way swiftly to a pair of French doors. Without Aubrey, she was able to thread her way through the crowd more easily. “Unusual girl, isn’t she?” Overleaf muttered. He did not seem daunted and clapped a hand to Aubrey’s arm. “Well, old chap, I suppose I’ll go back on the hunt?” Aubrey looked at him. “You do that.” Without waiting for a response, he followed Serena. She stood at the rail of the verandah, partly hidden by a large potted palm, her arms about her, shivering. She’d checked her wrap in the cloakroom, and the night was chilly with a breeze bringing the moist scent of the oncoming rain.
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“Serena.” Aubrey went swiftly to her side. She did not look up, and he could hear the quiet sobs she muffled with a gloved hand to her nose and mouth. Tentatively, he ventured to touch her arm. Thankfully, she did not pull away, and instead looked up. “You need your wrap. You’re freezing.” “I’ll be fine, thank you.” Adrenaline raced through his veins, and he could no longer resist. “No, Serena, come here.” Tenderly, he pulled her into his arms. Her body tensed, but she did not protest. Behind them, the blend of waltz music and laughing people sounded, muffled by the closed doors. “Serena.” “I was right, Aubrey. I didn’t help heal you. You’re changing right now. You’d better go before ...” Aubrey reached up and brushed away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered closed under his touch, and he knew then, as he had when he’d made love to her, that she desired him at least as much. The soft glow of lights from inside reflected off her skin and lips, and he bent his head, touching a kiss to them. At first she stiffened, but as he brushed his lips over hers, he felt her surrender. Delicately, he feathered the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip, seeking for her to part them. When she did, he slipped his tongue between her lips, tasting her, dancing his tongue against hers, lost in her soft beauty. “Serena,” he whispered, lifting away from the kiss long enough to speak. “Serena.” He felt her delicate hands tighten on his arms. “Aubrey ... I can’t ... I’m sorry. I want to go home.” Aubrey sighed, looking into her face. Her lips were swollen from their kiss and from the arousal he could feel pulsing through her. Gently, he released her, his body fighting back the desire she ignited in him. Unfortunately, the change was now simmering in his nervous
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system. “Wait here. I’ll tell your uncle you need to go back soon. But, I beg you, wait for me at my cottage.” She did not answer, dabbing at her eyes with her gloved fingertips. She followed Aubrey to the French doors. They went to tell Hugh that Serena needed to go home and found him in the lounge with a group of his cronies, puffing cigars and sipping brandy. He looked concerned. “Serena, are you all right? Aubrey asked me to bring you home soon. We’ll leave right now.” “Thank you, Uncle. I’ll be fine. I’m just very tired.” He set his brandy glass on a tray held by a nearby servant. “Not a problem, my dear. All I care about is that you’re well.”
***** Serena waited for Aubrey by the French doors to his bedroom. The cool night air thrummed with the song of crickets. In the distance, thunder sounded. She had been listening to it all evening. The scent of ozone and coming rain filled the air. She pulled her shawl around her for a bit of warmth, anxious for the heat of her lover’s body against hers. He appeared from the grove of trees leading to the river, and moved across the lawn toward her. Just as she stood up, a rifle shot cracked in the air outside, followed by a loud roar. Serena gasped. “Aubrey!” The night air filled with a second roar. “Aubrey!” Serena cried out. She fled out onto the terrace then the lawn. Thunder rumbled again, this time close by. A flash of lightning illuminated the lawn, silhouetting her uncle’s form, rifle raised. He still wore his tuxedo and must have just returned and seen Aubrey.
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Serena lunged forward, her nightgown gathered in her fists, desperate to reach Hugh before he shot again. The lion stood at the edge of the lawn in front of the border of acacia trees. Uncle Hugh had missed. Aubrey had not run. “Uncle Hugh! No!” Serena cried. She drew closer and released her nightgown to wave her arms. “Don’t hurt him!” When she’d reached him, she grabbed his arm, pulling the rifle down. “No, Uncle! Don’t shoot!” Serena grabbed for the rifle just as the first drops of rain fell. “Serena! Go back inside! The creature has obviously come to attack.” He yanked the rifle back and lifted it to aim once again at the large beast. But Serena stepped in front of the barrel. “No!” she cried over the noise of the rain that thickened and began to pelt them. “It’s Aubrey! Not a lion. Please, Uncle.” She grabbed hold of the barrel and pushed it down. Hugh relented and cocked the safety back on. “Serena, are you mad?” “No, Uncle Hugh. I swear to you, I’m not.” She hesitated one moment longer, then turned and ran. The rain pelted her, soaking her hair and nightgown. The wet grass squished between her toes as she ran. The darkness prevented her from seeing her direction, but she went on pure instinct until another flash of lightning lit up the entire lawn and she saw the lion trotting toward her. When she reached him, Serena fell to her knees and threw her arms around the great beast, her face buried in his mane. His heart pounded heavily against her body as she began to sob. “Oh, God, Aubrey, I almost lost you.” Her trembling fingers wound into the abundant thickness of mane. “I don’t know what I would have done,” she cried above the downpour. The animal nudged her shoulder with its large feline muzzle.
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She remained that way, clinging to him, for a long time, the rain mixing with her tears. Finally, she lifted her face from the soggy fur. “Come,” she urged, rising to her feet. “We must get inside.” She looked up to see her uncle standing, his rifle dangling from his hand. He stared at her, his jaw dropped open. “Serena! What the devil!” He ran over to her. “It’s all right, Uncle Hugh. I knew you’d never believe me, and so did Aubrey. I’m sorry, I have to get him inside. Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Before he could answer, she turned and headed in the direction of Aubrey’s cottage. At the edge of the grove, she could see the glow of a lamp through one of the windows on the other side of the trees. She glanced back several times to make sure Aubrey was following her. Serena pushed open the French doors on the front porch and went in, followed by the lion. With the doors closed firmly against the driving rain, Serena turned and knelt once again, her sopping nightgown clammy against her skin. She embraced him. “Thank God you’re back safe. I love you.” The flagstones were cold, and a sizeable puddle collected underneath their drenched bodies. Serena raised her face from his mane and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hands. “We need a fire.” She found the fireplace already set with logs and kindling. A box of matches sat on the mantel. “You are quite thorough,” she said as she lit a match and held it to the twigs and old newspapers stuffed under the logs. When the flame had caught, Serena rose from the hearth and turned to the lion standing a few feet away, watching her with glinting eyes. His tawny sides heaved laboriously, and his tongue lolled out of his muzzle.
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“You’re changing,” she whispered. “You’ll need tea and something warm when you finish, I suspect.” She went to the kitchen, lit the stove, and put on the kettle before taking out clean towels and bringing them back to the living room. The lion still stood where she’d left him, although his head hung low, and Serena knew he’d be on the floor soon. She spread out several clean towels for him, then stripped off her own sodden nightgown to towel her hair and dry her damp skin. Then she wrapped the towel around herself and retreated to the kitchen to finish preparing the tea. Serena returned with the tray to find him on his side on the towels, his breath coming in short, hard gasps. She frowned, set the tray on the hearth, and kneeled down by his large head. “It’s all right, Aubrey,” she said softly, reaching out to stroke his head. At her touch, he blinked. His eyes, she noticed, had already begun to take on a more human shape and size. She waited with him, stroking his hair while he lay in fetal position on the rug, his brawny torso heaving with breaths of exertion. Finally, when the logs in the fire had burned nearly all the way down, Aubrey was nearly himself, the bearded man with glittering emerald suns for eyes; the man who had first possessed her. “You’re safe with me, my love,” she whispered as she caressed his unruly locks of hair, her fingertips grazing the damp skin of his neck and forehead. Suddenly he turned over and grasped her arms, pulling her body down onto his. One large hand wove into her hair, drawing her lips down to his. The kiss was deep and hot. His tongue plundered every recess of her mouth, tasting her, rousing her to a fervor. Serena gave herself to the kiss and lifted her leg across his hips, straddling him. His erection, fully hard, pressed into her slit, pulsing and hungry to penetrate her. She moaned softly as it rubbed her tender, swelling flesh.
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Just when she thought he would take her, he grasped her arms, bringing her with him to their feet. Serena furrowed her brow. “Is something wrong?” she whispered. He backed her gently to the bed, bringing her to sit. He laid her back so her crotch was right on the edge and knelt down between her legs, spreading her vaginal lips apart. His hot breath passed over her moist, swollen clit as he began to lap at it. She felt his hunger for her musk as he licked and suckled eagerly at the moist pink rose of flesh. His large hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her crotch tightly against his face as he plundered her cleft with his hot tongue. Serena moaned, her arms thrown back in surrender. Each time he touched her, she drowned in a world of erotic bliss. He licked and suckled the tender nub until Serena came, not stopping until her body released several orgasms and she lay, languid and satisfied, under his mouth and hands. Serena raised her head and looked at him, meeting his hungry emerald gaze. He still crouched between her parted legs. “What about you?” she whispered. “Don’t you want your pleasure?” He rose up, unfurling his powerful body, and covered her, his warm, bare flesh against hers. He reached down and found her opening with his fingertips, Serena caressed his beard a moment, then brought her hand down to his groin, taking his erection in her hand. Her eyes fluttered closed at the deliciously hard muscle, the velvety skin and veins. He groaned under her touch and rolled slightly to one side, allowing her to stroke his cock freely. She raised herself on one elbow as she rubbed his shaft, gently squeezing it between her thumb and forefinger. He growled low in his throat, his eyes closed, panting lightly. Serena lowered her face to his and kissed him, swiveling her tongue sensuously against his. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed in his musky scent.
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Her breasts pressed up against him, and he reached for one, cupping and squeezing it, brushing his thumb over her nipple until Serena moaned into his mouth. In one swift motion he parted her thighs and settled between them, burying his erection deep inside her. She gasped with the pleasure and pulled her legs back as far as she could. “Yes, my love, yes,” she whispered as he began to move in long strokes. She grasped his hard buttocks, pulling him deep, deep inside her. Their bodies fused together, and she closed her eyes, lost in the pleasure of carnal oblivion. He moaned, long and deep in his throat as he climaxed, his warm seed pulsing into her. He collapsed next to her, his broad chest heaving from the exertion of pleasure, one large hand still closed around her breast. “I love being with you,” Serena breathed close to his ear. He reached up and caressed her hair. Serena rose and fetched a clean handkerchief to wipe up his seed. When she’d finished, she set the cloth on the bedside table and sat back down next to his supine body. Bracing herself on one arm, she lightly raked her fingertips through the dark, silky hair that covered his chest. To her joy, he held his arms up to her. She went into them, and he brought her to lie on top of him. Serena nuzzled his beard, weaving her fingertips into the thick unruly hair. “I wish you could speak,” she said. “I want to know all about you.” She watched his powerful chest rise and fall with his now-quiet breathing. “I never thought I’d feel this way again,” she went on. His skin was warm against her cheek, and its musky aroma filled her. “Theo made me promise to love again. But I never found anyone to love. Until now.” Aubrey tilted her face upwards for a soft kiss. Gently, he moved Serena off him and climbed under the bedcovers. He reached out for her, bringing her to snuggle against him.
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Lying quietly in his arms, she began to remember what had almost happened to him. Her uncle had very nearly shot him, and she began to wonder if he had changed his mind and had tried to get himself killed. Stifling new sobs, she clung to him, pressing her body as snugly against him as she could. She realized that as long as Aubrey was the ngatu, they would never truly be together. Tonight he had been lucky. She had been able to stop her uncle before he killed Aubrey. What about the next time? The next hunter? She sighed. Something had to change. Either Aubrey needed to take the last step to become fully human again, or she would have to leave him and not look back, as she’d planned to do. She’d already lost a man she’d loved with all her heart. She couldn’t bear to lose another.
Aubrey woke, finding himself sprawled across his bed, naked. Serena wasn’t next to him. He sat up quickly. The sounds of someone retching came from the bathroom. He sprang from the bed and went to the doorway. Serena was crouched over the basin, vomiting. He rushed to her, knelt down, and put his hands on her shoulders, holding her until her illness passed and she wilted backward against him. “What can I do for you?” he asked, stroking her hair gently back from her forehead. “Nothing,” she breathed, her chest heaving from the exertion. Aubrey breathed in her scent. His sense of smell was still disturbingly strong, and he knew immediately why she was sick. She was pregnant. “Serena,” he whispered, “you’re --” “Yes. I know. I should have started my monthly today.” Her head lolled against his chest, and she began to cry. The sobs escalated into loud, guttural cries that emanated from deep inside her. Aubrey turned her gently around in his arms and held her close. “It’s all right, Serena. I love you. I want you to marry me.”
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She stared at him. “You do?” “Of course I do, Serena. What did you think?” Her lower lip trembled. “Yesterday, you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t say you love me.” He bowed his head. “I know. It was ... frightening to say those words after so many years. I’m sorry. I’ve carried so much guilt with me. Marys died loving me, and I’ve always felt I’d betray her.” Serena grasped his shoulders and pushed herself back from him. “It doesn’t matter now, Aubrey,” she sobbed. “I could lose you! Oh, God! It hurts so badly! I was terrified for you last night. Oh, God!” She collapsed once again in his arms and cried, her lithe body trembling. He held her close, caressing her hair and back. He pressed a kiss into her hair as he held her, letting her cleanse herself of her sorrow. When her sobs had calmed, Aubrey kissed her again on her head. “Come, Serena. Let’s have a bath, and then we can talk.” He eased her out of his arms and turned the faucets to the claw-footed tub. While the tub filled, he kneeled back down and put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s going to be all right,” he said softly by her ear. Her distress was palpable, and his heart ached as he realized how terrified she must have been seeing Hugh shoot at him. When the tub was full, he closed the faucets and urged Serena to her feet. Docilely she allowed him to help her into the hot water and then climb in with her. He lathered a washcloth and wiped it smoothly over her back, around her neck, and down her arms. The sudsy water made her porcelain skin glisten sensuously, and he fought back the urge to slide his hands around her front and fondle her breasts, slick and soapy from the bath. To his surprise, Serena took the washcloth from him and began wiping it over his chest and around his back. Her blue eyes were bathed in sadness, yet he felt her tenderness for him in her touch. When she’d finished, he sat against the back of the tub, pulling her to sit against him, her back against his front. He felt her body relax against him, her head once again lolling
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back on his chest. He put his arms protectively around her. The mother of his child. “Serena, are you unhappy to be ... carrying my child?” She sighed. “No. I’m very happy, actually. I’ve grown to love you, Aubrey.” She grasped the sides of the tub and lifted herself so she could look at him. “As unbelievable as it might sound, I wouldn’t even care if our child was ... a ngatu. I’d love him no matter what.” He reached up and touched her cheek, brushing his thumb tenderly against her damp skin. Her hair hung in a long, wet braid over her shoulder, trailing around one breast. “Then what is it, sweetheart?” Fresh tears crowded her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. “Aubrey, I can’t go through it again, losing a man I love so soon.” She wiped at her tears with one hand. “I know that, in reality, things can happen regardless of whether you’re ... a lion. But to see you shot at. Oh, my God, Aubrey.” She sobbed again, and Aubrey pulled her back into his arms, grateful that she didn’t resist. He held her trembling body and stared up at the wall as he thought of what to do. For so long he’d been avoiding his grief, the tortuous sense of loss and guilt over Marys’s death. Somehow, being in Africa had come to represent his flight from pain, his avoidance at all costs. However, another human being was now involved in his problem, a woman who loved him, who needed him. She was his family now. As soon as he acknowledged that fact, the answer became clear. Squeezing Serena tenderly, he waited for her tears to subside. When she grew calm, he smoothed back her hair. “Serena, may I ask you something?” She sniffled. “Of course.” He took a deep breath. “Two things, actually. The first is, may I impose upon you to return to England ...” She gasped. “You want me to leave?” “Yes. With me.”
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She turned again and stared at him. “Go back to England?” “London, more specifically. It’s where she and I ...” “Aubrey.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “I understand.” He sighed. Her touch was at once soothing and electrifying. “Perhaps going there will trigger the feelings I’ve been avoiding.” He put his hand over hers. “I see it’s the only way. I don’t want to put you again through last night, not if I can help it.” Serena continued to gaze at him with a potent mixture of tenderness and sadness. “Of course I’ll go with you.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, pressing a kiss into the palm. His heart thudded hard as he gathered himself to ask his next question. In spite of the reality that she carried his child now, he felt deep down, in a place he couldn’t even form words, that her answer was the soul-changing thing he sought. He lifted his lips from her hand. “Serena, will you marry me? I swear to you I would have asked under any circumstance. I love you.” Her blue eyes glistened as she gazed at him, her lip trembling slightly. His heart lurched in his chest. “Perhaps you wish to wait until we know whether or not I’m ... normal again,” he whispered. “No,” she said quickly. “I don’t wish to wait.” He bowed his head, avoiding her eyes. His world fell into sudden blackness. “I don’t care if you’re ever normal, as you say it. No one is normal. I’m sorry for the thoughts I’ve had.” She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his chest. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” He squeezed her against him, his cheek resting on her hair. “I give you my word, Serena, I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t want you or the child ever to go through the fear you had last night.” “I know, Aubrey.”
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“We’ll have to explain everything to your uncle.” Serena raised her head from his chest and looked at him. “Poor Uncle Hugh. This is all so unexpected for him. He never believed.” He nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone ... until you.” Serena smiled. “I strongly believe he’ll be understanding, if I know him at all. He can be overbearing and stubborn, but he has a good heart.” Aubrey touched her cheek. “Yes. He does have a good heart. It seems to be a Blakely family trait.” He brushed his thumb lightly on her damp skin. “I’ve already decided that if it’s a boy, I want to name him Theodore.” Her eyes widened and tears glistened in the blue depths. “You do?” “Yes, of course. If he hadn’t made you promise to come here, we would never have met. It’s only right to honor the name of the man who brought you to me.” He leaned into her and brushed his lips over hers. Her delicate hands slid onto his shoulders, and she shifted her body so they were pressed together, their wet skin fusing. “Aubrey,” she whispered. She leaned over, dappling soft kisses over his lips and jaw, down his throat and over his chest, her lips slightly parted. Aubrey closed his eyes, running his hands over the silky wet skin of her back. He groaned as an erection sprang up, hard and full. He positioned her on top of him, and she impaled herself with a deep moan of pleasure. Yes, he had definitely found his mate. He squeezed Serena’s hips as she moved on his cock. The overwhelming pleasure drowned out the stirrings of anxiety about their upcoming journey. The journey that would take him back to the source of his pain. The pain that had made him the ngatu
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Chapter Eleven
Serena stood next to Aubrey at the railing of the steamship. She linked her arm through her husband’s, feeling his tension. She glanced at his profile, his chiseled features dark and brooding, as they had been since the ship had entered the English Channel. He was staring in the direction of England, still not yet visible on the horizon. Her stomach fluttered, and she pressed her body closer to his. How well she knew the pensive, silent way he stared ahead of him. She had spent so much time in that inner place in the wake of Theo’s death. Sometimes it had felt like a pool so deep and dark, she’d never thought she’d see light again. She forced her thoughts from her worry, remembering instead Aubrey’s proposal and the events that had followed. As she’d predicted, Uncle Hugh had been perplexed and a bit shocked, but had been understanding and kind, as well. He’d hated to lose Aubrey’s company and help on the farm, but he’d been equally as happy for them. They’d married that same day. Uncle Hugh had taken them to the French mission on the outskirts of the farm, where the abbot had performed a simple ceremony in the cool darkness of the stone-and-wood church. “I didn’t think I’d ever come back here.”
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Serena looked up at Aubrey. Those were the first words he’d spoken since boarding the steamer. The English coastline had just come into view, a dark band in the distance. Below, the waves rolled past in white crescents from the bow of the ship. She put her gloved hand over Aubrey’s, which rested on the rail. “I know. Life always works out so differently from what we originally planned or expected.” He gazed down at her, his eyes and expression dark. “My father was heartbroken that I stayed away so long,” he went on. “He came and visited me in Africa a couple of times. When he left, he always wanted me to come back, but I never would.” Aubrey leaned his hands on the railing. “He always was understanding about it, but I know how painful it was.” He shook his head. “Perhaps if my mother had been alive, it would have been different. But she died when I was twelve. He never remarried. It was just us.” He released a deep sigh. “I didn’t mean to break his heart.” “I know. But you’re coming back now. Now is all we have.” She smiled gently and put her hand to his cheek. He clasped his hand over hers, pulling it to his chest. “I’m very grateful for you, Serena.” With a fingertip under her chin, he tilted her face upwards and bent his head, pressing his lips gently to hers, heedless of the other passengers.
Later that evening, their cab pulled up in front of a row of elegant townhomes. Aubrey sat next to her, sullen and silent from the moment the ship had docked. His hand rested limply between hers. He glanced out the window. “Welcome to my home,” he murmured. “I grew up here.” Serena looked out on the long, black wrought-iron fence, gleaming in the lamplight. She spotted a small garden on either side of the walkway and high, velvet-curtained windows with lights burning inside. Across the street was a large green with park benches and shady trees. “It’s very lovely.”
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An older man appeared in the doorway as Aubrey helped Serena down to the cobbled sidewalk. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and as he drew closer, she could see he had the same chiseled features and unruly mane of hair, though gray. He needed no introduction, as far as Serena was concerned. “Aubrey!” His father strode to him and grabbed him up in an embrace. “Good to have you back, son.” “Thank you, Father.” Aubrey’s father clung to his son, and Serena heard the older man sobbing. “I thought you’d never come back.” Aubrey cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” “It’s all right, son. Thank God you’re all right.” Aubrey patted his father’s shoulder affectionately before releasing him. “Father, I’d like you to meet Serena, my wife. Serena, my father, Charles Darnell.” She held out her gloved hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Charles Darnell’s dark eyes widened and he smiled. “I had no idea.” His large hand swallowed Serena’s in a vigorously warm squeeze. He reminded her very much of her uncle, and she now understood Aubrey’s attachment to Hugh Blakely. “The pleasure is all mine. I received Aubrey’s telegram the other day. He told me he had a surprise, but I’d never expected it would be this wonderful.” He finally released Serena’s hand. “Aubrey, when?” “Just before I left, actually. You remember Hugh Blakely, with whom we hunted years ago?” “Ah, yes, of course.” “Serena is his niece.” Aubrey’s father picked up her hand again. “Welcome to our family, however small it may be.” Serena smiled. “Thank you.”
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A valet appeared and unloaded their baggage, carrying it into the house. “You must both be tired.” Charles offered his arm to Serena, leading her up the walk. “Yes, we are,” she agreed. “It’s a long journey from Kenya.” “I’ll have Frannie bring you some supper in your room so you can rest, and then we can spend the day tomorrow getting acquainted.” “Yes, I’d like that.” A short while later, Serena and Aubrey were alone in their room. Aubrey went to the window and stood, staring out into the summer night. Serena went and stood next to him. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “How are you, Aubrey?” she asked softly. He sighed. “I don’t know.” His demeanor had darkened again, and she recognized the deep brooding trance of grief. For several moments they stood in silence, the only sound the heavy rise and fall of Aubrey’s breathing. His muscles were tense and corded under her hand. He swiveled his gaze on her. “I need some time,” he muttered. She nodded. He turned on his heel and left the room. She watched out the window. Several moments later, he emerged onto the street in his jacket and strode down the sidewalk, out of her view. She remembered what she’d told Aubrey about her tendency to smother and suppressed the urge to chase after him. “I’m sorry you’ve suffered so much, Aubrey,” she whispered.
Aubrey hunched his shoulders as he walked briskly down the sidewalk. His heart ached in his chest, and he felt as if he were drowning. He was now experiencing the very emotions and sensations he’d sought to avoid when he’d fled England. He passed the square
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in front of his home, where he and Marys had strolled many summer evenings just like this one. Her family’s home was on the other side of the square. He’d watched her grow from an awkward girl to a beautiful young woman in this very neighborhood. Gulping for air, he increased his pace until he was out of his neighborhood as images assaulted his mind. Memories of coming back to his residence hall at Oxford where the telegram waited for him at the front desk. How, in that one moment, his entire world, with all its hopes and plans for his life, had crashed. He still blamed himself. He’d wanted her there for his commencement. She’d wanted to be there, but would have remained at home if he’d asked her to. He was selfish. Coming back here had affected him immediately, as if these ghosts had been waiting, the pressure building, needing just the right moment. He didn’t know how long he’d been out walking, but when he finally looked up from the ground, he was quite a ways from Mayfair. A street clock chimed midnight. He’d been walking for hours, his hands jammed into his coat pockets. He stopped, listening to the clock chime. The street was empty. The streetlamps cast a fuzzy glow on the sidewalks. Serena. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was see her. She was there, in their room, waiting for him. She was sweet and loving. She had accepted his dark secrets with openness and warmth. She was his wife. She had surrendered to him, body and soul. He broke into a run. The dark buildings and lights passed in a blur as he moved instinctively in the direction of his house. He couldn’t rest until he felt her arms around him, her softness, her gentle voice.
Serena waited on the settee in her nightgown. She opened the doors to the balcony, and a gentle breeze wafted through, waving the gauzy curtains. On the table beside her, a fresh pot of tea sat with some sandwiches, for when Aubrey came home. She sensed Aubrey’s
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nearness before she heard the footsteps on the sidewalk, pounding, through the gate, up the front walk. She stood and began to walk toward the bedroom door. She heard Aubrey bound up the stairs, and the door slammed open before she reached it. She stood, watching him. Lines etched his face. His chest heaved, and perspiration gleamed on his forehead. His dark hair rioted around his face. She searched him for any sign he was changing, but he appeared the same. Silently, he staggered into the room and fell on his knees before her. Instinctively, she reached her arms out, and he leaned into her, pressing his face into her stomach. She closed her arms around his head, stroking his hair. He began to sob, clinging to her, clutching her hips. Saying nothing, she caressed his hair, letting him soak the soft material of her nightgown with his tears. Guttural cries emanated from deep inside him, sounds she recognized from her own grieving. “It’s all right, Aubrey,” she whispered, stroking his hair. She allowed her hand to roam down his neck and shoulder to the wide, hard expanse of muscle in his back. Under her hand, his breath heaved from the exertion he’d just undergone. He rolled over and looked into her eyes. His breath had begun to calm, and he shivered. “Come, sweetheart,” she whispered. She picked up his hand and led him to the settee. He sat down heavily, not letting go of her hand. She went to pour him some tea, but he tugged her back onto the seat next to him. “Not yet,” he whispered, pulling her against him. He buried his face into her hair. “You smell so wonderful,” he breathed. “Always like flowers.” She squeezed him gently and pressed a kiss into his neck. His warm masculine scent seeped into her, stirring her down below. In spite of the tingling between her thighs and in her breasts, she desired him without the feral yearning as before. The wild animal musk that
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had always emanated from his skin and hair was not there. Only his natural, beautiful, arousing human male scent. She smiled against his skin. He was going to be all right. She poured some tea from the waiting pot and stirred in a lump of sugar, as she’d seen Aubrey do at the breakfast table several times. “Come, have a sip. It will warm you.” She urged him to sit up and brought the porcelain teacup to his lips. “There,” she said as he swallowed the amber liquid, his body unclenching a bit more from the warmth. After several sips, she put the cup aside and poured one for herself, sipping it down without her usual splash of milk. She, too, felt warmed by the tea and drained the cup, setting it back on the tray. When she turned to Aubrey, he had regained his strength and sat quietly, his glowing green eyes searing her with his erotic gaze. A ripple of desire passed through Serena’s cleft, and her stomach fluttered. “Serena,” he whispered. He lifted her nightgown, bidding her to raise her arms. He slipped it up over her head and tossed it aside. Her hands flew to his shirt, opening the buttons as fast as her fingers would work and pulling it off him. He gazed on her bare breasts, the hard muscles of his body quivering in response to her nakedness. He leaned his face in to hers, brushing his lips over her smooth cheek while one large hand closed lightly around her breast. Serena tilted her head back, her lips slightly parted for the delicious intrusion of his tongue. He kissed her long and deep for several minutes while his fingertips explored her breasts, squeezing and kneading the dusky nipples to erect peaks. Serena wound her fingers into his dark, unruly hair as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, feasting on the hardened nipples. Serena moaned, her head thrown back. The erotic
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pleasure radiated through her body, down between her thighs where her cleft was swelling and gathering her musky cream. She reached down and unbuckled his trousers, pushing them down past his hips, along with his drawers. He lowered her down underneath him, and Serena opened her body to him, drowning in his delicious musky scent, muscular body, and hard erection pushing its way into her wet opening. The pouring rain drummed on the roof above them, but inside the only sounds were the crackling and sputtering of the fire and the lovers’ ragged breaths mingling with sighs and moans of pleasure. Serena spread her legs wide, allowing him the easiest penetration. In spite of his deep arousal, he took her carefully and slowly, inching his erection in bit by bit as he nibbled sensuously on her lips and jaw, burying his lips against her neck. “It’s all right, my love,” Serena whispered. “Have me.” She grasped his hard buttocks with both hands, pulling him as deeply into her as she could. She gasped as he buried his entire hard length inside her. He moaned softly in her ear and began to move -- long, slow thrusts that took Serena’s breath away. Serena pressed her face into his soft, delicious beard, breathing in his masculine aroma. “Serena,” she heard him whisper, and a frisson of delight shivered through her body. “I’m yours,” she answered, moving her hips up and down in rhythm to his thrusts. The heat of their mating rose to a pitch, and Serena felt his cock pulse inside her, telling her body of his approaching orgasm. “Come, my love. Come,” she coaxed softly. He groaned, his hips driving against Serena’s in sharp thrusts as his seed filled her womb. When the last ripple of climax passed, he collapsed lightly on top of her, caressing her hair as he caught his breath.
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Serena embraced him. She loved how his hard, sweating body filled her arms, and she rested her cheek against his. She closed her eyes, contented, in spite of her own unfulfilled desire pulsing in her cleft. His cock softened and he slipped out. Rising on his hands, he looked down into her eyes. Serena returned his gaze, noting that the darkness had begun to recede from his features. She could see Aubrey emerging. He lowered himself down on her body and buried his face between her legs. Serena moaned, her eyes flickering closed again as he went down on her, licking and suckling her still-swollen clit and labia. “Aubrey! Aubrey!” she whispered as her body careened toward climax under his tongue. He reached up with both hands and played lightly with her nipples, squeezing them just enough to elicit the tingling connection between the pink buds and her clit. She felt her creamy moisture surge from the swollen pinkness only moments before the release. Serena cried out with her erupting bliss, her hips writhing and bucking under his mouth until every shiver had passed. Then she, too, lay limp and content as he stretched out alongside her and took her into his arms. With their naked bodies molded together, they rested, the night breeze caressing them through the open doors. Serena grew drowsy, a smile playing on her lips as she imagined Aubrey waking up as himself, finding her next to him. In her heart, she, too, felt unburdened, cleansed. Her love for Theo remained, but she also felt free to love again.
Daylight caressed Serena’s face. She opened her eyes and smiled. Aubrey’s breathing rose and fell steadily behind her, and his large, strong body still molded to her soft one, his muscular arm holding her close.
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She could hear the distant bleating of goats that always signaled the morning. She suppressed a chuckle at the though of Hugh’s lawn being devoured. She and Aubrey still lay on the settee. Serena snuggled against Aubrey. Her movement caused him to squeeze her more tightly against him in his sleep. A little while later, she heard him awaken behind her and catch his breath. “Serena.” His voice was soft and full of wonder. He loosened his grip around her. Serena turned over and propped herself up on one elbow, smiling. Locks of his dark hair tumbled about his cheeks, and dark stubble covered his jaw. His hazel eyes regarded her with both tenderness and uncertainty. God, he was magnificent! “Aubrey,” she whispered. “How do you feel?” He touched her cheek. “I feel ... human.” Serena clasped her hand over his and held it where it rested. “That’s because you are.” He reached out with his other hand and drew her gently back into his arms. Outside, the morning sounds of London carried through the open doors. Aubrey pressed his lips into Serena’s hair. She caressed his forearm, tracing the muscles with her fingertips. Aubrey stared at her. “I am, aren’t I? I feel so different.” She gazed at him, feeling her heart fill with tenderness and sympathy. She held her arms out to him. “Aubrey.” His name escaped her lips in a gentle whisper. He looked at her, his eyes moist with gathering tears. At her touch, his tears began to flow, escalating to deep, guttural sobs. He fell into her arms, wetting her bare skin with his tears, letting her stroke his hair. Serena felt her own eyes fill, her heart aching for him. She, too, let her tears fall as they held each other. He looked up at her. “I love you, Serena.”
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She smiled. “I love you.” They gazed into each other’s eyes. Aubrey ran his fingertips along her shoulder, making her body come alive with desire. He caressed her another moment before she felt his gentle grasp, bidding her turn over. “Serena, you meant it when you said you’d have loved me anyway, even if I had remained the ngatu. Didn’t you?” Serena blinked and reached up, brushing her fingertips along his stubbled jaw. “Of course I meant it. I love you as you are.” Her declaration was rewarded with a wide, dazzling smile. He leaned over and captured her lips with his. The kiss was soft, tender, and made her heart flutter and her nether lips stir with desire. He lifted away and gazed down at her. “It’s love such as this that healed me.” He played with the delicate wisps of hair by her cheek. “Are you certain of this? Of me?” Worry clouded his handsome face. Serena nodded without hesitation. “Yes. I’m certain. In my deepest heart of hearts, Aubrey. I promise.” He smiled and bent to kiss her again, a deeper kiss this time, one that spoke of his desire as well as his joy. “Serena,” he murmured into her mouth. One large hand found her right breast, caressing it, tenderly kneading her nipple to an aroused peak. She felt his cock rise and harden against her thigh, and she brought her arms around him, pulling him closer. “I promise, Aubrey,” she whispered again. She moaned when he nestled his large body between her legs, his erection pushing into her moistening slit. She had promised to love and be loved again. She had promised to capture the Great Lion. And now, she promised to love him, for always. Just as he was. She knew she would. Because she always kept her promises.
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Sedonia Guillone Sedonia Guillone lives on the water in Florida in winter and on the rocky coast of Maine in summers with a Renaissance man who paints, writes poetry and tells her she’s the sweetest nymph he’s ever met. When she’s not writing erotic romance, she loves watching spaghetti westerns, cuddling, and eating chocolate. Visit Sedonia on the Web at www.sedoniaguillone.com.
***** Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of
Incubus by Raine Weaver Available Now from Loose Id
Incubus His mouth twisted into that disarming half-smile again. “As I said -- a fool. He told me you were pretty.” He removed his sunglasses and leaned toward her. The frank stare from his chicory-brown irises made her want to melt. “He was wrong. You're quite exquisite, Serafina. No man in his right mind would allow you to sleep alone at night.” He held the cigar gingerly between his teeth. “No man in his right mind would give you a chance to sleep.” There was something decidedly wrong about this conversation -- and she was enjoying it far too much. She laughed and looked away, not knowing what to say. “Now I've made you uncomfortable. And you're tired. It is early, isn't it? I forget that everyone doesn't keep the same hours I do.” And still he sat, toying with a large gold filigree ring on the middle finger of his right hand. His pupils seemed to become larger as she watched, to dilate, drinking in the dark as the room slowly lightened with dawn. “Are you happy here, Miss Fisher?” Her last name sounded foreign on his lips. “Serafina” seemed natural, as if it just rolled off his tongue, as if he'd said it a thousand times before. “Do you mean here in the cabin?” “What else would I mean?” Why did she have the impression that they were playing some sort of game? “Are you planning to kick me out of your house, Gabriel?” “Of course not. I hope you'll stay as long as you wish. But I should go now.” He rose, palming his keys. “I'm keeping you from your sleep.” “Please don't apologize.” Of course she was glad he was leaving, she told herself as she walked him to the door. The absolute maleness of the man was suffocating, made the small cabin seem the size of a closet. How was it that he managed to make her blood simmer
Raine Weaver
beneath the chilblains on her arms? And what was it about that voice, that eerily familiar, intoxicating voice, that made her want to relax in his arms and run for her life, all at once? He made her nervous. Yes, that was it. She wasn't at all comfortable with the way he looked at her. And if she wondered what he looked like beneath that coat, beneath whatever shirt he might be wearing, or what hung between the perfect creases of those very expensive trousers, it was because she was still half-dreaming. “When Steve calls, I'll tell him you were here. We could probably find a hotel.” “Please don't bother. I had no plans to stay here. It's quiet and clean, and my bed is, as I recall, very comfortable. Enjoy it.” He had to do it, she thought wryly. He had to remind her that she was sleeping in his bed. What the devil was wrong with her? Was that a blush warming her cheek? This was schoolgirl stuff. She was a grown woman! “We'll only be here for about a week. Should I tell Steve that you'll be driving back through?” He laughed at her. It was a deep, rumbling laugh, sprinkled with the prettiest set of pearly whites she'd ever seen. It was so mesmerizing, so sensual, that she forgot to be angry with him for laughing at her. “Do you want me to come back, Sera?” Her heart had not stopped racing since she first saw him. She felt confused, overwhelmed by her instinctive attraction toward this complete stranger. And yes, guilty. As if she'd cheated on her fiancé. And whether it was wrong or not, she hadn't felt so alive, so vibrant, in her entire life. Sera clenched the belt between her fists as she felt herself sinking into the dark centers of his eyes. What was the point of lying? He knew. She could tell by the way he smiled at her. He already knew the answer. “Yes,” she whispered simply. He slipped his shades on and slowly, tentatively, lowered his mouth to within teasing inches of hers. “Then nothing on earth could keep me away.”
Incubus She closed the door quickly behind him, certain she had lost her mind. The man was a complete stranger, and her heart was pounding as if she'd just run the fifty-yard dash. Extinguishing the lights, she made her way back to the bedroom. The sky was a smokypink color, and she could make out neither stars nor sun now. But she was lying in his bed. She rolled across the mattress, then scratched, catlike, at the window screen, wondering if he brought women here, wondering what they did, what his sexual preferences were. He would be dominant without making an effort. She could tell that about him. No hurried, frantic race to the finish line for this man. He would savor every scent, every sound, the very taste of the sex. Closing her eyes, she imagined that magnificent body at work, supple and sensuous, smoothly gyrating, then pounding, demanding. Sera buried a stilted moan in the mattress, as she imagined so many others had done -and did not fight the sleep that so easily pulled her in, giving up, this time, with an expectant smile.
***** Gabriel waited until he was well out of sight before stopping the car in the middle of the road. He threw it into park and turned off the engine and the lights, sitting quietly in the dark. Thinking. It had been a mistake. He should have maintained his distance. He knew that already. But he hadn't been able to resist. It had been years -- God, so many -- since a woman had affected him so. And even that had not been as powerful an attraction as this. That woman had opted for another life. He would see that it did not happen in this case.
Serafina . The mere thought of her made him hard, made him want to have her. She had the large, haunting eyes of a young doe, and a voice as soft as a kiss. Those were the
Raine Weaver
qualities that made him sensitive to her. But it was the body that made him need to adjust his trousers to ease the tightness in his crotch. The long, thick hair that begged to be stroked, that demanded to be fist-harnessed as he rode her from the rear. The smooth bottom, small waistline … and most of all, her breasts. The ample, blossoming breasts that she kept cruelly confined, hidden from the touch and sight of men. His mouth watered at the thought of them … And he would have her. He would have her screaming on her back, panting on all fours. He would have her begging, demanding, crying with need, would bury himself so deep inside of her that she'd be branded his for life. He would enjoy pouring out his hunger between those full, wet lips, take the greatest pleasure he'd ever known in tonguing her into mindless bliss. And he would have her in ways she'd never imagined. He could have her both ways, if he didn't frighten her off. If only he could control his appetite. He lifted one corner of his mouth, imagining her sleeping fitfully in his bed, wearing that pale blue piece of nothing. Her attempt at modesty had made her even more enticing. But he had to be patient, had to master the frenzy, the driving heat that even now urged him to go back and claim her as his own. As she already was.
***** What people are saying about
Incubus Incubus is about a woman who must decide whether she wants the safe life or take a risk into the unknown… I liked how Ms. Weaver created the story because I never knew what
Incubus Sera’s choice would be even towards the end. The sense of mystery kept me glued to the book. -- Ann Lee, Just Erotic Romance Reviews Raine Weaver's Incubus is an enticing and titillating tale of suppressed longing awakened to glorious life. This story is seduction at its finest with sexual tension that sizzles like a drop of water on a hot pan. Gabriel is an alluring, sexy and irresistible hero who will invade your dreams making you breathless for more. -- Cher Gorman, author of Wolf Island (coming soon from Loose Id)
Incubus reminds me of all the reasons I love to go to sleep. A sensual, spellbinding ride, it brought new life to the phrase "curling up with a good book." -- Alicia Sparks, author of Desert Moon: Ah-ten (Loose Id)