"In all the excitement, Marita forgot she was carrying a package, but I am willing to bet she will remember when her head clears of fear and distaste. She did not want anyone to see. That was very important to her."

"I don't like this. I feel in the middle of a great conspiracy. I have no idea what's going on around me, or even why."

"I just happened to pick up the package when Marita swooned."

"She swooned? She is very good at that. Tasha is jealous and wants to be able to drop gracefully to the floor at a moment's notice. I doubt if anything is capable of making me swoon."

He leaned into her, kissed her hard, possessively. "I can make you swoon if you wish it."

She loved the way he sounded. Mischievous. Laughter in his mind. In his heart. He had a way of making her world right again. "I seriously doubt it."

"I will take that as a challenge."

"Did you open the package?" She had to ignore him. It was the only sensible thing to do when little flames licked over her skin at the heat in his voice.

"I waited for you." He pulled the brown wrapper from inside his coat and turned it over so that the paper rustled with invitation. "Would you like me to open it?"

"Have you looked into Paul's mind, Byron?" Her voice was suddenly tight. She caught at him. "Did he try to kill me? I love Paul. I'm not certain I can bear his wanting to murder me. Or worse. If he wanted to harm Nonno."

For a moment, a black violence swirled in his belly, a reaction to her pain. His hand caught her chin. "I would take you away from this place and these people. We would love and live and never look back if you simply said the word to me."

She heard the words in her head. Felt them in her soul. Byron was magical to her. If she was asked to explain it, she couldn't, but she longed to be with him. Not for a few stolen moments but always. In his arms. Listening to his voice. Laughing at his antics.

His sense of humor appealed to her. He appealed to her on every level.

"This is my home." There was a trace of regret in her voice. "I love my family. I worked hard for my career. Would you be happy here, with me?"

His gut lurched. The doubt in her tone had him tossing the package aside and pulling her right out of the chair and into his arms. "I can be happy anywhere, Antonietta, as long as I am with you." He pulled her to her feet, into his arms.

"I don't know what you are, do I?"

"Does it matter? Will you love me anyway? Can you? Does it matter that I am not Jaguar? Or human? Can you share my mind and know I am of the earth, a Carpathian male, with honor and integrity? Can you not see what I stand for?" His fingertips brushed her face, down her arms to slide up inside her white lace blouse. Her skin was warm and inviting. A lush temptation far too exotic for him to ignore. He cupped her breast, took the weight in his palm, his thumb sliding in a caress over her nipple, Celt, a little privacy would be nice.

The borzoi s.h.i.+fted positions, padding a few feet away and dropping down to curl up, no doubt thinking him crazy.

"Can anyone see us?" Antonietta's knees were already weak with desire. Her body flooded with hot need. How could she possibly want him, no need him, so quickly? So completely? It was actually frightening to think she could be so out of control at a mere touch. So out of character for someone who thought through her every move and planned everything down to the smallest detail.

"Does it matter?" He demanded, "Tell me, Antonietta, will you want me if I am not what you expected?"

She pushed her breast deeper into his palm, savoring the way her entire body responded to the friction. Behind her dark gla.s.ses, her lashes drifted down. "You aren't at all what I expected. This terrible hunger I have for you isn't at all what I expected.

You make me feel desperate."

"I am feeling a bit desperate myself."

"You're distracting me from the package."

"We would not want to forget the package." He leaned down to brush a kiss on the top of her head. His fingers ma.s.saged her body. "I cannot take my hands off of you. I am trying. But it is not working."

Antonietta found it fascinating the way her body tightened and clenched in reaction to the stroking caress of his fingers. She wanted him right there. Right at that moment, in the solarium with its gla.s.s walls and hanging plants. With the waterfall in the background and her body wrapped around his.

"You are not helping," he said, confirming he could easily read her mind.

"Someone could see us, Byron, walk right in, couldn't they?" The package was beginning to be a distant memory. She should have been embarra.s.sed that he could read her mind, read her every erotic thought, but she was grateful. She wanted him to take her, wanted to feel his body plunging deep and hard inside of hers.

He replaced his hand with his mouth. Antonietta cried out with the wave of sensations swamping her. Her arms circled his head to cradle him to her breast. Ravenous hunger rose to swamp her. Her legs shook.

"Byron? What's happening to me? I'm not like this." She was always cool and confident and in control in her dealings with lovers. She was never a flame burning with the raw force of a firestorm. Uncaring where she was. Whether someone might see her.

She was a private person. s.e.x was never intense and hungry. The most important thing in the world to her at that precise moment was ripping away Byron's clothes.

He took her gla.s.ses from her nose and set them aside. "No one can see us, Antonietta. It is impossible. Even if there was someone in the room with us, I could s.h.i.+eld us from view." His voice was husky. He drew her s.h.i.+rt over her head and let out his breath at the sight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His senses were heightened by her needs. He could feel her through their mind link, the terrible pressure building and building deep inside of her. The heat. The s.h.i.+mmering fire.

Antonietta shuddered. "What are you doing to me? I can feel you in my head, feel what you're feeling." There was a dangerous edge to his hunger. To his need. His body was heavy and full and thick, pressing tightly against her. And he was without clothing. Her hands found his broad back, traced the muscles there. Her neck throbbed and burned. A spot over her left breast throbbed and burned. In her deepest core, small miniexplosions seemed to be going off, rocking her, making her weak.

Byron dragged her slacks down, stripping away her lace panties. "Keep your arms around my neck. Hold on, Antonietta.

Hold tight."

She wanted to protest. She should have protested if she had an ounce of decency. Instead, she wrapped her arms securely around his neck and held on tight. He lifted her. Easily. As if she had no weight to her at all. "This is crazy. And too fast. How can I want you like this?" And she was much too heavy for acrobatic lovemaking.

"Wrap your legs around my waist."

The catch in his voice destroyed her. She obeyed him, her body open and vulnerable to the invasion of his. Antonietta cried out as he pressed against her very core. Wave after wave of sensation rocked her. Rocked him. She could feel herself through his mind. Hot. Wet. Slick. A velvet fist wrapping tightly around him as he entered her. She thought she might have screamed with the sheer ecstasy of it. But it might have been him, calling her in her mind. Pleasure s.h.i.+mmered around her, over her, and through her.

Through him. He moved, his hips surging into her hard. Deep. She rose up, using her strength, slid down the length of him with exquisite slowness, paying particular attention to how she made him feel.

The breath slammed out of his lungs and he burned for her. Antonietta accepted her own power with a very feminine smirk and took the initiative. She began to ride him, using his mind to guide her, searching for the perfect move, her muscles milking and gripping strongly. It was heaven. Paradise. She didn't want to ever stop.

His hands ma.s.saged her b.u.t.tocks in time to the wild ride, driving the pa.s.sion up another notch, while flames licked from their toes to the top of their heads. Breath mingled, air disappeared, lungs burned. Nothing mattered but the waves of pleasure was.h.i.+ng over them. The pressure continued to build. She could feel it like a gathering volcano in him. He could feel it like a racing storm in her.

Antonietta suddenly tightened her arms around his neck, leaned into him, her teeth finding his shoulder as he plunged deep, dragging her hips downward to meet his body. Flames crackled and sizzled. Colors burst behind her eyes. Or maybe it was his eyes. It didn't matter. His mind was solidly in hers, his body sharing hers. The earth around them rocked, rippled with life, exploded into a thousand pinpoints of light.

Antonietta lay on his shoulder, unmoving, uncertain she could move. Wondering why they both weren't a puddle of water on the floor. The most energy she could summon was to touch her tongue to the bite mark on Byron's shoulder. She could feel the tiny indentation with her tongue. "I bit you."

"You do not sound sorry."

"I think it was in retaliation. I'm fairly certain you bit my neck the first time we made love."

His rumbling laughter caused an electrical vibration to sizzle through her body. Just that fast, it brought another or- gasm. She rode it out, savoring every shudder. "I could just stay here forever."

"I would not mind," he agreed companionably, "but we have company."

The door to the solarium rattled, stuck for a moment, then fresh air circulated through the room, taking the combined scent of their lovemaking and dispersing it immediately. Misters on timers began a soft spray of the plants.

"Where are you?" Tasha demanded. "I swear they came in here," she said to the captain. "Antonietta? Byron? Diego is here.

You don't mind me calling you Diego, do you?" Her voice was sultry with heat.

Byron lowered Antonietta carefully to the ground, holding her until her legs stopped shaking enough to take her weight.

"There's her dog." Tasha spotted Celt. "Antonietta hasn't gone anywhere without that dog since she got him a few days ago.

She's in here somewhere. She loves the exotic plants. Over this way."

Antonietta stiffened, buried her face on Byron's shoulder. She was completely naked and only a large leafy plant separated her cousin and the policeman from her. Byron's large hands cupped her b.u.t.tocks, pressed her tightly to him. They cannot see us here. Have no fear of discovery. He reluctantly let her go to drag her s.h.i.+rt over her head and settle her dark gla.s.ses back on her nose.

Antonietta stood in silence and darkness while he retrieved her slacks. She jumped when his hand slipped between her legs, his finger pus.h.i.+ng inside of her. I want to be alone with you, cara mia. I hate that we can never be alone. His finger stroked deep.

Her highly sensitized feminine muscles convulsed around him. She clung to him while her body went up in flames again.

Byron's hair brushed her face as he leaned close to help her into her slacks. You are my life mate, always in my care. He was fully clothed.

I don't think I can breathe. Carry me upstairs. Let's run away together.

His mouth settled over hers, a long, leisurely kiss.

"What in the world is this?" Tasha picked up the package lying in the middle of the floor. There was a smear of blood on the brown wrapper.

I fear it is too late, my love. Byron moved them so that they appeared together, walking around a giant potted palm, hands linked. Tasha found the package, and we need to know what is inside of it. We must reveal ourselves.Antonietta tried to appear calm and cool and not at all as if she'd been having wild s.e.x only moments earlier. Laughter was bubbling up, a very unlike Antonietta characteristic. She hardly recognized herself anymore.

"Grazie, Tasha." Byron took the package right out of her hands and gave it to Antonietta. "I was not certain where we left that. Good evening, Captain Vantilla." Byron bowed low at the waist.

"Signer Justicano, its good you were there to rescue Si-gnora Scarletti."

Tasha made a sound of annoyance. "Diego, didn't you listen to a single word I said? What were you doing wandering the grove so late at night, Byron?"

"Tasha, you go too far," Antonietta said quietly. "I want you to stop. There is more at stake here than your petty jealousies."

Tasha's breath hissed out. "Call it what you will. That man is dangerous, and I refuse to allow you get involved with him."

Byron studied her scarlet face. She was humiliated in front of the captain, yet she persisted in spite of Antonietta's warning. It seemed at odds with her sense of self-preservation. Could she really be afraid for you?

You're the one who reads minds.

She would know. If I push beyond her barriers, she would know I was there. I am uncertain if I could fog her memory enough to make it worthwhile.

Who knows why Tasha does and says the things she does? Antonietta sounded weary enough that Byron swept his arm around her and dragged her to him, giving her shelter against the steady rhythm of his heart.

"You do not seemed surprised, Captain," Byron said. "Is this the first kill? You must tell us what you know."

The captain pushed his hand through his hair, a clear sign of agitation. "This is not the first person killed in this way."

"Do you mean to say you've known of this creature, and you didn't warn everyone?" Antonietta was outraged.

"It has been in the newspapers, signorina. We brought in the best trackers we could find. The cat has not been found."

"In the meantime, my cousin's wife could have been killed. That's completely unacceptable." There was a soft whip in Antonietta's voice. "I have employees who walk from the city to my home daily. I don't want to lose any of them to such a hideous fate as a wild animal killing them."

"It doesn't bear thinking about," Tasha contributed with a shudder. "Marita had blood all over her. No wonder she collapsed."

"No one should be walking around alone at night." The captain pinned Tasha with a steely eye. "There is no reason to be in the grove until this animal is found. I believe the gentleman we found is most certainly one of your grounds-keepers. Signor Franco Scarletti identified him."

"Oh, no." Antonietta's fingers curled around Byron's, hung on tight. "One of ours? We must hire security to escort our people back to their houses until this creature is caught."

"And this has been going on for some time?" Byron prompted, his voice a compulsion for truth.

"Unfortunately, yes. In other areas for some time. Our first discovery was a young woman's body by the sea with her throat torn out. We have plaster of the paw prints. It was identified as a jaguar, a rather large one. The general belief at the time was that someone had one of these cats as a pet, and it either escaped or, like so many others when the laws went into effect against exotic pets, it was dumped in the middle of the night."

Tasha sank into a chair. "Our grounds are extensive, the wildest country around, and little Vincente and Margurite play all the time in the maze. They were in such danger, and we never knew."

Diego put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I have three children at home. Madre mia takes care of them, and she is old and frail. I've given orders that they remain indoors, but the two oldest get away from her. I worry myself. I do know how you feel.

The killings have been far between in a range of well over a hundred miles. We didn't put it together until several months ago."

"When did this start around here, Diego?" Tasha asked.

"The first body was found in our area nearly two years ago. We searched, of course, but nothing was found. There were two bodies found prior to that one, but it was thought they were dead and wild animals got to them. It took us awhile to put it together that one cat might be actually preying on humans."

"And what does your wife say to this? Why does she not stay with your children?" Tasha asked.

The question was unexpected, and Diego answered truthfully before he could stop himself. "My wife did not want our children or a policeman for a spouse. She left after the bambina was born and does not want to see any of them again." It was a painful moment for him, humiliation and anger s.h.i.+mmering in his dark eyes.

"Poor little bambini, abandoned and unwanted," Tasha said softly.

"I want them," Diego said adamantly. "They do not need a woman who will not love them."

What is it?" It was one of the few things about being blind that made Antonietta crazy. She always had to wait for identification.

"I am sorry, cam mia, it is sheets of music."Antonietta sucked in her breath. Finally, they were in the privacy of her sitting room with the doors firmly locked. Tasha had settled in for the evening to entertain the captain, and with all the other duties, Antonietta thought she would never be alone with Byron. Curiosity was slowly killing her. That, and wanting to be alone with him.

"My music? She was taking my music out of our home to give to someone else?" Antonietta's body didn't feel her own.

Feverish. Needy. Incomplete. She moved away from Byron to keep him from noticing.

"No. It is not yours. This music is very old. I am afraid to touch it. It could crumble in my fingers."

Antonietta went very still. Her hand went to her throat. "I know what it is. How did Marita get her hands on that? It's kept locked in Don Giovanni's private safe. No one but Don Giovanni has the code. At least they shouldn't, and believe me, Nonno would never give away such a treasure. The existence of that composition is not even known outside our immediate family."

Byron leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs toward the leaping flames in the fireplace. "It is very valuable?"

"Oh, yes, it's valuable. It is genuine, the original work of the composer George Frideric Handel. As a young man, he visited Italy, and of course, he was a frequent guest here at the palazzo. Even then the Scarletti family had power and wealth and was interested in music, and he was an exceptional talent. No artist would turn down such an invitation. He stayed on and off during the three or four years he was in Italy. He left behind many notations and a journal. He also left sheets of music, of cantatas and operas, even oratorios. But our most treasured is a full opera composed by Handel for the Scarletti family. He was not happy with it. He said it lacked the fire of Italy, and he did not want it kept. Our family agreed it would never be for public use then or in the future. The Scarletti word is sacred. We have kept that vow to him for generations."

Byron whistled softly between his teeth. "George Handel. I had forgotten he stayed in Italy. It was only a short while. He left in 1710 for Hanover, as I recall, but left nearly immediately for London. His opera Rinaldo was produced the following year."