What the hell is wrong with me?

He’d like to be able to blame it on getting shot—and wasn’t that a stupid, rookie mistake on his part? He’d been so worried Ariel—no, Ellie—was going to get injured that he’d leapt into the middle of things without thinking. He’d been lucky he hadn’t been hurt worse than having a bullet score his arm. What if he’d been killed? Who’d have protected Ellie then?

Maybe she didn’t need as much protection as they thought. Certainly, she’d managed to find her ancestral voice and call for help this evening, despite all speculation she didn’t know anything about her heritage. There’d been a hint of her power when she’d confronted him, back when she thought he was part of the team who tried to abduct her. Her anger had been thunderous and nothing short of magnificent. She could have changed and eaten him for lunch, and he probably would have stood gaping in stupefied admiration as she crunched his bones. Could be she didn’t need him at all.

Which was just as well, given how poorly he’d handled this entire situation so far. Hell, he’d even fallen asleep in the car on the way over. Shifters might heal quickly but the gunshot had taken more out of him than he’d care to admit. Still, he should have bloody well stayed awake until he’d gotten Ellie to safety.

The thought caused him to growl, and he slammed his way through the dresser drawers in the dark rooms, grabbing clothing as he went, not caring what he picked up. An old backpack left behind in one of the closets served as a handy duffle bag. If the electricity didn’t come back on, he could make do with sweats and a T-shirt until his clothes dried. Ellie would manage with whatever he brought down, of that he was sure. Still, it would be nice if he didn’t have to give her Andrew’s castoffs. He hesitated at one of the closets. If he recalled, his teammate Morgan had left a dress behind the last time she was here. Black, sleeveless, with giant red flowers on it. Poppies, maybe. Ellie would look smashing in it. He found it and draped it over one arm, smiling as he shut the closet door. Catching sight of himself in the mirror on the back of the closet door, he stopped dead in his tracks.

This was exactly what he’d been bitching about to himself earlier. Ellie wasn’t his girlfriend, for crying out loud. He stared at his reflection, noting the ludicrousness of his being nude and clutching an armload of clothes, the most prominent of which was a splashy dress.

Still, Ellie would want to look her best when she met her family, right?

He couldn’t deny he simply wanted to see her in that dress. All that creamy skin bared for his gaze. The square-cut neckline showing off her cleavage, and the full skirt calling attention to her marvelous calves. He could picture himself planting a kiss on the soft skin of her shoulder. Brushing the hair off the back of her neck to nuzzle her there while he pressed in from behind.

The mirror showed a man getting aroused by his own fantasies.

No, his reflection showed a fool.

Ariel de Winter was meant for another life, another man, even if she called herself Ellie West. She could never be his. She wouldn’t want to be his, not when she found out who she really was. Which would happen just as soon as possible. If not tonight, then first thing in the morning, before they struck out for Coreldon.

He only hoped her family—and betrothed—would appreciate her for the treasure she was. Jack didn’t know of many women who could weather the kinds of experiences Ellie had undergone that night without turning into a hysterical mess. The funny thing was, she would have been justified in collapsing in tears, but she hadn’t done that. When she’d faced him in the alley, furious and willing to punch her way past him, he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. But it was her courage in approaching him in his leopard form, before she knew who he was, that had taken his breath away.

Yet all that magnificent glory wasn’t meant for him. In fact, her strength of character proved to him she really was royalty. Which meant, despite his being tempted beyond all measure, she could never be his mate, no matter what his leopard thought.

A little niggling part of him observed it was just as well the electricity was out, and he had an excuse to change into leopard form. Otherwise, he wasn’t certain he could keep from making himself a fool over her.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had tested his self-control. He turned from the mirror in annoyance. The least he could do was towel off and get dressed. High time he started acting like a bodyguard and not some love-sick teenager. He opened another drawer and selected a pair of jeans he thought might fit Ellie. Just in case she refused to wear the dress. Then he headed into the bathroom to inspect his wound and scrub the blood off his hands. Thanks to the impromptu catnap, it had healed better than he’d hoped. If he shifted into his leopard and remained in that form all night, likely by morning it would be healed enough not to bother him.

It took a long time to get the blood off his hands. It had seeped under his nails and around his cuticles, and it took several washings to get them clean again. He glanced up in the bathroom mirror to see his weary face looking back at him. “’Out, out, damned spot.’ You know, I’m starting to sympathize with Lady Macbeth.”

The reflected image grinned back at him.

I’m pretty sure she talked to herself too.

His inner leopard was extremely droll. A regular laugh riot. Should go into comedy, if the whole security agent thing doesn’t work out.

Mostly dry and wearing his team mate Andrew’s sweat pants, he stomped down the stairs with his armload of clothing. As a bear shifter, Andrew was bigger and broader than Jack, and the clothing hung off Jack’s frame. He probably looked ridiculous. Not that he should care.

He came to a halt in the doorway of the living room, to gape at the scene there.

Somehow in his absence, Ellie had turned the living room into a welcoming home. Candles set in glass jars illuminated the room, filling the air with warm, sultry fragrances. From the downstairs bedroom, she’d pulled out a mattress and placed it in front of the fire, covering it with a thick comforter. A footstool served as a makeshift table, and held a platter of sandwiches, along with a couple of bottles of ale.

Ellie herself stood by the mantelpiece. She was dressed only in a matching set of lingerie, pink satin with black lace edging. At his entrance, she looked up and her face flamed. She clutched her necklace in one hand, and moved instinctively to cover herself when she saw him. After a long moment in which she stared intently at him, she placed the necklace on the mantelpiece.

Something shifted in her with the action. Her face relaxed, and the hand covering her breasts fell to her side. Her voice practically purred when she spoke. “There you are. I thought you might be hungry.”

Great Scott, the sound of her voice went straight to his cock, causing it to lift and fill. He turned away, embarrassed at his reaction, to dump the load of clothing on the nearest chair. Dressed. He should let her get dressed now. He sorted through the pile of clothes as he spoke. “Thank you. That was very kind of you. You’ve—ah—been busy while I was upstairs.”

“I was cold. Funny, right? Who gets cold in August? Not in the South. Not without air conditioning. I guess it’s just a combination of shock and getting soaked to the skin.”

Somehow, she made getting drenched in a downpour sound like the sexiest thing ever.

“Not to mention, the temperature has dropped at least twenty degrees with the storm. I thought it would be nice to fall asleep in front of the fire.”

She was right. It would be nice. The thought of lying next to her with the flickering light caressing her skin as he made love to her leapt to mind. He was hungry, only not for food. For her. He wanted to devour her, consume her, and be consumed by her. He wanted to fill her and be destroyed by her.

Because destruction was the only path available to him if he gave in to his base desires.

He reminded himself she’d only done what he’d suggested—get out of her wet clothes—and nothing she’d said indicated she wanted anything more than to be warm and well-fed. Even if the ambience of the room was better suited to a honeymoon suite than a safe house.

She closed the distance between them with grace and determination. When she stood a mere breath away, she looked up at him from underneath her bangs. At some point when he’d been upstairs, she’d taken out those horrible fake blue contact lenses. Now she gazed at him with eyes that glowed gold in the firelight. With her index finger, she lightly traced down his arm, hesitating as she neared his wound.

“Does it hurt much?” Her voice, velvety-soft, connected with something inside of him and pulled him a step closer.

The words dried up in his mouth, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. “Ellie.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with that, only that he had to try to make her understand why he couldn’t accept her invitation.

“Jack.” The way she said his name, with such amusement at his futile attempt to resist, battered at his remaining intentions.

“We can’t… I can’t. It would be wrong. I’d be taking advantage of you. Surely you can see that, right?”

“What if I want to be taken advantage of? What if I choose you?”

Her words pulled a groan out of him. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know what I want. Better than anything I’ve ever known as long as I can remember. I want you, Jack Ferris.”

Take her. Mark her. Make her our own.

His fists clenched as he resisted both his leopard’s insidious suggestions and Ellie’s own invitation.

She wants this, you idiot! If only for tonight. It may be your only chance—

He hadn’t intended on moving, but somehow, he’d met her halfway. Taking her in his arms felt so right. As though he’d walked into a house and known it was truly his, he was home. When she lifted her face for a kiss, bending his head to meet her lips seemed like the only reasonable thing to do. Her skin was warm with the scent of peaches and ginger, and there was nothing he wanted more than to press his lips to that succulent flesh. She opened her mouth to take him in, and he welcomed the intimacy of that kiss, his tongue pressing in to slide, warm and wet, against her own. The mewling sound she made deep in her throat went straight to his cock. He pressed up against the satin of her lingerie. Her fingers dug into his shoulders in response.

Her breasts, lush and pushing over the edge of her lacy bra, demanded to be freed. He fumbled with the clasp to her bra, growling his satisfaction when he removed the offending article of clothing. Her nipples were peaked with desire, rising out of pale areoles and begging to be sucked, so he took one in his mouth and gently worried it with his teeth.

Her reaction was everything he could have hoped for. She thrust into his mouth, her head tipped back as she cried out. Her nails dug into his ass as she pulled him closer. Her need to touch and be touched in return mindlessly drove her as she rubbed against him.

He had to stop this before it went any further. It didn’t matter that she was offering him everything he’d ever wanted. It was wrong. It would violate his oath as her protector, and hers as the heir to a kingdom. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know she was a princess—he did, and it was up to him to put the brakes on this.

Mine.

His panther snarled furiously at him, even as Ellie herself lifted her head to capture his mouth again. She drank him in, bold, powerful, and confident. It was a heady combination designed to drive his leopard wild. Never had he shared a kiss like this with anyone before, a kiss that met him toe to toe for passion and desire. Her fingers carded through his hair, and suddenly he had her face between his hands, making love to her mouth as he walked them both backward until they stopped abruptly against the wall.

She shuddered as he lifted her up so he could lip and nuzzle her breasts again. She pushed them forward while pressing her head back. Her eyes closed as her breath came in little gasps. She brought her legs up around his hips and began to grind helplessly against him.

Not like this. He couldn’t take her like this for their first time, up against the wall, so hot it flamed out before it could even get started.

First time? His leopard was supremely smug.

Slowly he eased her down. She opened those amazing eyes, the pupils so wide and black only a faint line of gold ringed them. Her open mouth begged to be kissed again and so he did.

“Ellie.” He dragged the word down the line of her neck, pressing his lips in gentle kisses along the way. She desperately rubbed against him, bracing herself so she could pull him in closer.

“Jack. Please. I need you.” She reached between them and wormed a hand down into his sweat pants.

It was her little moan of pleasure when she closed her hand over his cock that did him in. It meant she wanted this as much as he did.

He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed as her hand moved over his length. So good. But not what he needed.

He knew they weren’t going to stop. Not now. But he could keep this from being a bigger mistake than it already was.

“Hold that thought.” He broke off contact reluctantly, only to smile at her dazed and bereft expression. “Don’t worry. I’m coming back.” He plundered her mouth with his tongue by way of a promise, and pulled away to see her slow, satisfied smile.

Great Scott, let him have at least one condom left. He tore through the stack of wet clothing to search for his wallet, grunting with triumph when he found it and discovered some condoms tucked within. He held the foil package high and turned in her direction with a smile, only to see her sprawled out on the mattress in front of the fire.

She’d removed the slip of lace that had passed for underwear, and lay splayed in open invitation on the mattress. One arm rested above her head, a pose that thrust her breasts upward. She watched him with a sleepy-eyed expression, stroking herself while she waited for him. She gave in to the pleasure of her touch, moving her hips ever-so-slightly as soft sounds escaped her lips. The firelight was reflected in her eyes, and for an instant, it seemed as though flames were dancing there. Her hair, now mostly dry, fanned out around her head like black silk. The hearth’s glow warmed the pink streak into an orange flame that framed her face. Her lips parted as she kept stroking herself, each breath lifting her breasts as she began to rock slowly. She was breathtaking there in her wanton beauty, a siren calling to him from across the sea.

If only someone had tied him to the ship’s mast, so he wouldn’t be drawn in under her spell.

Hastily, he shucked off the sweat pants, his cock leaping forward to attention once freed from the confines of the clothing. He’d never gotten a condom on so fast in his life. His need for her was so strong, there was no time for finesse, no self-control where she was concerned. Straddling her, he caught her fingers and covered them, following her movements into her slick folds. His groan matched hers as he replaced her touch with his own, finding the hard nub of her pleasure and stroking in earnest. When he took a nipple into his mouth as he teased her, she cried out and bucked into him. As he suckled, he fluttered his finger over her clit until he felt the tension mounting within her. Higher and higher he pulled her until she gasped and writhed beneath him. Soft cries escaped her as he brought her closer to release. Each gasp ramping up until she shuddered and wailed out his name. When she went limp beneath him, a smile on her face, he lined himself up and pressed home. There were no other words to describe their coming together. He seated himself into her warm heat with a sigh.

She curled into him, bringing her knees up so that he had unimpeded access. When she gripped his shoulders, her smile was sleepy and sated. “Yes.”

It was just one word, but it rocked his world. Something deep inside him sang out—Yes!—in response. As he began to move within her, she tightened her grip.

“Harder,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He pumped himself into her, reveling in the slick tightness all around him, and the way she pulled him into her, as though she couldn’t get enough. He could spend a lifetime here in her arms, and it would be both a nanosecond and an eternity. He moved like a piston within her. His drive was heightened by her sharp cries in time to his movement, and the way she dug her nails into his skin. She arched back, her head lolling from side to side in ecstasy as he pounded her. His own orgasm built, a tightening of his muscles. The sensation he was riding a roller coaster took him up and up—and then amazingly, she orgasmed a second time, her body clenching around him to thrust him over the edge. He pulsed into the condom, the intensity of the moment prolonged by the way her body closed around him. When the last of tremors left, he collapsed over her, breathing heavily into her neck as he panted, totally wrecked. He marveled at the way she had still the energy to stroke the back of his neck before he rolled off of her.

Separating himself from her body ached like a physical rupture.

Even as his leopard shouted jubilantly that she was his mate, he squashed the thought.

She was his mission. Nothing else. And despite the mind-blowing sex this evening, tomorrow he would take her to her real home.