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too well, for even he became confused. She was not where he had expected, and neither was her escort. Ranulph stopped and searched the dense fog with scent and sound and intuition. Trees to the left, beyond that two people coupling, and not with the partners they’d come with. But where was Leah?
    He heard light steps on the gravel path. A soft voice said uncertainly, “Duncan?”
    Vibrant with excitement, he made himself visible to mortal eyes in the guise of Duncan Townley. He took a moment to familiarize himself with the new form. He had to admit that it was not a bad body, for a mortal. Then he called, “Here, Leah!”
    He stepped forward, and almost ran into her. She gasped, “Oh!” as he caught her shoulders to steady her.
    “Are you all right?” he asked, the words coming in a deep voice that was not his own. Slowly he ran his hands down her arms as he studied her delicate features.
    She smiled, shamefaced. “I am now. I don’t know quite how I lost you. One moment I had your arm. Then the fog came, and I got confused.”
    “I know. I was worried.” He drew her into his arms and held her close. After making a small sound of surprise, she nestled close.
    Reminding himself that he must go slowly, he kissed the top of her head, then gently moved his lips to her temple. She tilted her head back questioningly. The damp fog caused tendrils of hair to cling fetchingly to her throat. No longer able to restrain himself, he claimed her lips.
    She gave a shiver of surprise. “I . . . I shouldn’t,” she whispered into his mouth.
    “I was so worried,” he said again, and kissed her bare throat, stroking her rapid pulse with his tongue.
    Her mind might have doubts, but her body didn’t. She pressed against him even as she murmured another vague protest. With a few steps he moved them to a mossy bed that he had created earlier, safely away from the graveled walk.
    “This . . . this is most improper,” she said weakly as he dropped to his knees, then tugged her down beside him.
    “You’re wrong,” he said intensely. “For us, it’s the most proper thing in the world.” He started to say that he loved her, a phrase that worked like a magical spell on any mortal female who was already as aroused as Leah was. Yet he could not utter the words. In some indefinable way, it seemed wrong to lie to her about that.
    He kissed her throat again, at the same time slipping her shawl from her shoulders and deftly unfastening the tapes securing the back of her gown. The bodice fell away, revealing her lacy underthings and the tops of her perfect breasts.
    “Oh, Duncan.” Eyes wide and startled, she made an ineffectual attempt to cover herself properly. “You really shouldn’t do such things.”
    “I must have you, Leah,” he said tightly. Though he wore the form of a mortal, it was Ranulph’s own need that burned through his words. He captured her mouth, swallowing her protests while his hands delved beneath her gauzy garments.
    He should have let his passion show sooner, for suddenly she was responding with a desire that matched his own, her small hands biting into his back. She was like a flame, her lithe body twisting beneath his, her hands and mouth eager.
    Madness swept through him, a scorching need to make her his own. Yet even as he possessed her, their bodies joining with a wildness that seared his senses, he realized that something was wrong. Something was wrong.
    He cried out at the same time as she, drowning in passion’s inferno. In that same instant, as he felt the fierce heat of her response, his partner suddenly transformed. Her slight body became more voluptuous, her tawny hair turned into a tangle of silken tresses as black as night.
    With shock and incredulous rage, he realized that it was not Leah but Kamana who lay beneath him, her shapely limbs twined around him and her golden eyes filled with wicked amusement. Violently he wrenched himself from her embrace. “Damn you!” he panted. “How dare