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clothes when she’d escaped into the bathroom. Only ten steps, though. She only needed to make it ten steps down the hall to her bedroom without him seeing her.
    “Oh, get a grip,” she lectured her reflection in the steamy mirror. “It’s not like he’s going to grab you and ravish you. He’s a perfect gentleman.”
    Her reflection seemed to have its own thoughts on the matter, though, because it made a face back at Kat. “Yeah, I know,” she told herself. “Damn the luck, right? And, really, the only worry is that I’ll jump on
him.
”
    She pushed open the bathroom door, realizing that talking to herself in the mirror—and, worse, expecting her reflection to talk back—was a slim stick of beef jerky away from the crazy machine. She peeked down the hall for a glimpse of her guest, but the coast was clear.
    As she slipped into the hall, she heard the sound of rain outside. “That’s odd. We had sunshine in the forecast for the next three days,” she murmured, then pushed aside the cotton curtain that covered the small hallway window and looked outside.
    Her knees turned to water. She had to grab the windowsill to hold herself up, because the object of her more heatedshower fantasies was standing in the middle of her yard. Stark naked. And, from what she could tell, he was somehow magically causing water to dance around and caress every inch of his incredibly firm, muscled body.
    She stood there, frozen, and watched the playful loops and curls of water twirl over his thickly curved biceps and down the muscled planes of his back to his, oh, dear heavens, firm, tight, and gorgeous butt. She watched the water continue down the corded muscles of his huge thighs and the length of his long, long legs and heard a low, growling noise. It took her a moment to realize that the sound came from
her.
She wanted to
lick
him. The cat inside her sat up and begged at the idea.
    Kat’s mouth dried out as she continued to watch him, unable to tear herself away. He turned, and she caught sight of his huge chest and the silky hair that arrowed down his abdomen to the erection that was as fierce and strong and huge as the rest of him. The heated emotions of her inner cat got tangled up with her own, more human, thoughts, and all she could think was
yes, yes, oh, that, I want that, I want to lick him and bite him and I want to play, and I want to feel him pounding inside me with that, oh, please, oh, please, I’m so cold, I’ve always been so cold, I want that heat.
A warm torrent of silky wet heat dripped between her thighs at the thought, at the sheer aching desire of it, and she moaned, digging her nails into the wood of the windowsill.
    And he turned, sparkling with the luminescence of the water surrounding him, and looked straight into her eyes.
    Bastien felt her watching him. Knew she was behind the window. The feral warrior who lurked behind the amiable mask he showed the world roared inside him, wanting to get to her. Wanting to possess her. Needing to at least show her exactly what she did to him.
    It wasn’t gallant or courteous or gentle. It was sheer raw need pouring through him at the thought of her watching him. He turned to face her house and the window where he knew she stood. Planted his feet and let her see him. All of him. Let her see his fierce arousal—his desire for her. Only for her.
    Felt his legs tremble with the force of his longing. When he met her gaze through the glass, the shock of awareness sparked and burned through his veins. She wanted him, too.
    Grimly determined, he released the water he’d been channeling and headed for the steps to her house. Prayed she wouldn’t deny him. But realized, with the sliver of rational thought left to him, that they might both be better off if she did.

Nine

    Kat knew the second Bastien made the decision. She saw his eyes change; saw them darken with a heat that mirrored her own. Watched in awe as the tendrils of water sparkling around him suddenly pulsed with