she'd fall if she tried to walk.

"Would you like a little breakfast?" the woman asked.

Kim looked at her. She had to be over sixty. There was something kind about her face. It was

surrounded by wild grey hair that had been forced back into a bun and was rebelling against it and coming loose. The woman's smile was warm, beyond friendly. If she'd hadn't just met her, Kim would've said that the woman liked her.

Kim nodded and then frowned.

"The..." she said and pointed in the direction the panther had gone.

"He's quite harmless." The woman gave her another broad smile. "This way please. I'm sure Mr. Blackwell will be along shortly to join you. I thought breakfast on the patio would be nice."

Kim noticed the white iron table that was sitting off to one side, fully in the sunshine. Beside it in the shade was another table, like a trolley, this one spread with food and various drinks.

Following the woman, she smiled gratefully as sat down at the table and was poured a cup of tea. She sipped it absentmindedly, her thoughts still with the panther. Where had it gone? Did it live in the maze? She made a mental note not to go in there alone.

The woman wheeled the trolley of food so it was nearer to her, said something and left.

She didn't watch her walk away, instead she took a small plate and a croissant off the trolley. She picked at it while staring at the garden. This place was amazing. She couldn't imagine living somewhere like this. She'd never want to leave it. The city seemed so stuffy and horrible compared to this. Here the air was fresh and the light breeze made the heat bearable.

She sighed.

Picking up the delicate china cup, she sipped the tea and listened to the silence.

It was cut by the click of heels on the flagstones.

She knew who it was without looking.

Erik slid into the seat opposite her and she tried not to stare at him like she wanted to. It was hard when she saw what he was wearing. He looked stunning in the white linen shirt and the black linen trousers. So very different to the man she'd met in London. He seemed to fit his surroundings. There, he'd been the businessman, wearing the crisp Armani suits and giving off a vibe of power.

Here, he was a man, relaxed in his surroundings and revealing to her just who he was beneath the suit.

He leaned back in his seat, legs stretched out as he stared off into the distance. She used the opportunity to drink in the sight of him. He was so relaxed, his look one of effortless beauty. She noticed the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. It was strange to see him in white, but it showed off how tanned his skin was and how dark his hair was. It also seemed to brighten his eyes, making them golden.

Like the panther's.

She looked closely at him, remembering the way he'd reacted when she'd rubbed behind his ear in the shower and the way the panther had reacted to that same touch. She told herself not to be so crazy. He was a man. Like she'd told herself a million times since meeting him-men didn't purr and they didn't sprout fur.

His gaze slid across to meet hers and, needing to do something with her hands, she poured him some tea and pushed it towards him.

He smiled.

She'd never seen him look so truly happy.

He looked more than content now, and she wondered if it was because of the weather, or her, or being

here. Or maybe it was all of it. Maybe it was sitting here together on the patio of this beautiful house under a hot summer sun that was making him happy.

It made her happy.

He stretched and yawned.

She stared at his teeth and told herself that they were just teeth, not massive canines.

He picked up his tea and sipped it. She looked at his hands. Just strong, supple hands, not paws.

She was going crazy.

She didn't even want to know how she'd seen herself, like she didn't want to think about what had happened back at her place.

"I saw your kitty," she said, eyeing him closely.

"I know." His smile broadened and he slouched further into the chair. He looked dangerously sexy like that-lounging there with a look in his eyes that told her that he knew what wicked thoughts were running

through her mind. She pushed them away. She was here to talk business, not surrender to her desire for him. "Did you like him?"

His expression gained a hopeful edge.

"Don't you have to have some kind of licence for them? I mean, he seemed friendly enough, but what if it

escaped?" She noticed he looked a little disappointed. Had he wanted her approval of the creature?

Next he'd be doing a Mr. Darcy and asking if she liked the house.

He toyed with his cup, pushing the handle with the tip of his finger so the cup went around in circles on

the saucer.

"There's no chance of that," he said, his smile returning. "He's quite tame."

She decided to give him what he wanted to hear. It was the truth after all.

"He's beautiful. I've never seen one in real life and I've definitely never touched one ... been so close to one. He's so soft..." Her eyes met his. "Gentle."

He smiled right into her eyes. "I'm sure he liked you too."

She leaned back in her chair and ate the last piece of her croissant. She wondered if she should offer him something to eat but then remembered that it was gone midday and he'd probably had breakfast at a regular hour.

She looked up at the house behind her.

"This isn't a little place in the country that you know," she said and he looked at it, and then back at her. "It's a huge place in the country that you own."

He shook his head. "Not me, not yet. It's my brother's."

She frowned at that. Had his parents left the house to his brother? That seemed a little strange. He turned to face her and she noticed that it was more than just the first few buttons of his shirt that was undone. She could see his chest, the defined muscles of it tempting her to leave her seat and settle on his lap, to explore it like it was begging her to. She noted his hair was mussed, wilder now than she'd ever seen it. Well, besides the time she'd woken up next to him. She rubbed her fingertips together, remembering the feel of the panther's fur.

"What are you thinking?" His voice chased away her thoughts.

She hesitated, and decided not to say. He'd think she was crazy if she asked whether he could somehow transform himself into a panther like he always started to in her dreams. That would be one way of making him take her home. Now that she was here, she never wanted to leave.

Instead of saying what she wanted to, she used the opportunity to get answers to a few things that had been on her mind.

"That paragraph, the one about blood."

He stretched again, this time not looking at all bothered by the mention of it.

"My brother wanted it. It's in case he has children. If they get ... sick ... or something, weak, and his blood doesn't match ... he wants mine." He stumbled over the words and she got the impression he was choosing them very carefully.

"What if you don't match?" She leaned forwards, looking into his eyes.

"It's hard to explain," he said.

"It's blood groups, not rocket science. You either match or you don't."

He stood sharply, his look thunderous, and she realised that she should've taken his answer and left it at that.

His fists clenched, a flicker of lightning in his eyes, and then the storm passed and he ran his hands through his hair. He walked a short distance away and then paced back towards her.

"It's complicated. I didn't want the damn clauses, but if I don't agree to them ... then all this will be his by default. My parents ... my father, made sure of that. His favoured son to inherit ... not me..." He walked up to her and she looked deep into his eyes, seeing all the hurt in them and wanting to hold him and make it go away. "Never me. All I got when they died was the company. Ironic since it was all Alistair wanted and all I wanted was the house."

She stood but he walked away, leaving her feeling cold as she watched him struggling with the pain she'd caused by dragging up what was clearly a family feud.

"I sign the contract," he said and then pointed to the house. "I get to live here."

"Is it worth it?" she said, slowly walking over to him.

She put her hand on his arm, feeling how tense he was, and searched his eyes when he looked at her.

"This is the only place I can be myself, Kim. The real me. Here, I'm free."

She frowned, not quite understanding what he was trying to say.

"There's something wrong about that contract, Erik. I can feel it."

"Feel it?" he laughed the words at her. She stepped away from him, confused by his reaction and the

sudden hardness in his eyes. "You don't know what you feel right now."

He grabbed her hand and pressed it hard against his chest. She stared into his eyes, trying to understand his change in temperament and what he was doing. She didn't like it. He was holding her too tightly and it was starting to hurt. She tried to get her hand free, but he closed the gap between them and gripped her hand harder.

"Can you feel that?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Feel what?" She tried to pull away from him again.

"Look at me. Don't fight me. Look at me."

She did, but only because he'd again said something from one of her fantasies.

She stilled, staring into his eyes and forgetting her struggle to get her hand free.

He whispered, "Can you feel me?"

She swallowed.

"I'm touching you ... of course I can-"

"Feel me." He cut her off, narrowing his eyes on hers.

She stared into them and, in a split-second, she was lost and there was only him in the world. The

silence filled her head and then it was chased away by the sound of her heart beating.

No.

It wasn't her heart.

It was his. She could hear it, feel it thundering beneath his chest. She could sense his heat and his hunger.

She could feel him.

She snatched her hand back, shocked by what she'd experienced.

"Is this some trick?" she said, voice trembling as she clutched her hand to her chest, her gaze still locked with his.