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"I know others might say I'm intellectualizing away prejudice, but I'm no bigot." She held his gaze with a strength he suspected had been honed by surviving a lifetime of hurt. "I simply want my daughter safe. I saw her almost die once—it's not something I want to witness ever again."
His cat detected no lies in her. "I'll keep her safe."
"I have a feeling you will. It seems I made a critical error—in thinking about how you could lead her into danger, I forgot that predatory changelings are also known for their willingness to protect to the death." Her eyes—Annie's eyes—clashed with his. "But that's not why I've decided for you."
"Oh?"
"It's because of the way you look at her, Zach. As if she's your sunshine." Her voice caught. "I want that for my daughter. Don't you ever stop looking at her that way."
Zach reached out and touched her lightly on the arm, sensing how very brittle her composure was at that moment. "I give you my promise."
A sharp nod. "Excuse me, I should go mingle."
As she walked away, Zach blew out a slow breath. It was becoming clear to him that he'd have a far harder road to travel with Annie than he'd initially thought. She'd grown up watching her mother love a man who, quite bluntly, didn't love her the same way. After only one meeting, Zach knew that Erik Kildaire was devoted to his work, while Kimberly was devoted to him. The insouciance with which Erik had crushed his wife's heart an hour ago—bussing her on the cheek and telling her he had something important to do at the lab—had angered Zach enough that he'd had to fight the urge to say something.
Annie would never have to worry about that kind of hurt with him. Once the cat decided on a woman, it didn't flinch. Devotion was almost obsession with those of his kind, and he was at peace with that. But words wouldn't convince Annie—she'd have to be stroked into trusting him, into relying on him. Because not only was she wary of loving, she'd become almost mutinously independent in her desire to avoid opening herself up to pain.
I like living alone. I intend to keep it that way.
That, he thought, the cat rising to a hunting crouch, was just too damn bad. But even as the predator in him prepared for the hunt, a vicious vulnerability grew in his heart. He needed Annie's trust, needed the surety of knowing she'd come to him no matter what. If she didn't . . . No, he thought, jaw setting, that simply wasn't an option. Annie was his. End of story.
"What magic did you do with my mother?" Annie asked, letting them into her apartment.
"That's my secret." He closed the door and prowled along behind her.
Her heart went into hyperdrive.
She was going to go to bed with him, with this man she'd met only yesterday. But it felt as if they'd never been strangers, it was so very easy being with him.
Careful, Annie.
Fear rose up in an insidious wave, showing her image after image of Kimberly's face as she watched Erik walk away. Was that what awaited her? Did the question matter now th
at she'd decided to take the chance and weather the hurt when it came?
"Hey." Zach brought her to a halt, nuzzling at her neck from behind as his hands closed over her hips. "Stop thinking so hard."
"I can't help it," she whispered. "I'm not . . ." She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to say this without betraying how incredibly important he'd become to her in such a short time.
"You're not the kind to kiss and walk away as if it meant nothing," he said, running his lips lightly over her skin, inducing a shiver. "Neither am I. This is no one-night stand."
"Changelings live by different rules."
He licked at her, and she felt her purse slip from her hand to drop to the floor. "Zach." A whisper, perhaps a plea.
He hugged her tighter against him. "We might be more tactile than humans, but it's nothing casual. It's about friendship, about pleasure, about trust."
"It sounds wonderful."
"It is." Another kiss pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. "Trust me, Annie. I won't hurt you."
At that moment, she almost believed him. Closing her hands over his, she let her body melt into the hard masculine heat of his. "You make me feel beautiful."
"You're more than beautiful," he whispered, "you're sexier than sin."
"You're complaining?" She dropped her hands as he moved his to the side of her dress and tugged at the tie that held it up.
The tie came loose. "I didn't like the way Markson was undressing you with his eyes."
