The ache between her thighs turned into an erotic pulse.

Her cell phone beeped.

She ignored it, shocked by the raw intensity of the hunger surging through her. She'd never before reacted this passionately to a man, until her entire body trembled'with the force of it. "Lord have mercy."

Because if this was what simply thinking about him did to her, how in the world was she going to survive being alone with him for an entire day?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She answered the cell just to shut off the sound.

"Yes?"

Chapter 3

"Angelica, what's the matter? You're snapping."

She took a deep breath. "Nothing, Mom. I just got home."

"Well, it's Friday, so you can relax a little. Drink that chamomile tea I got you."

Annie hated chamomile tea. "You know I don't like it." "It's good for you."

She'd heard that so many times it no longer made any impact. "I think I want to be bad, today." And it wasn't herbal tea on her mind. "Very, very bad."

"Honestly, Angelica!" Kimberly blew out a frustrated breath. "Forget the tea. I wanted to tell you to dress nicely for dinner tomorrow night."

Dinner? Annie's stomach sunk to the bottom of her toes as she realized she'd blanked the event from her mind. "Mom, you said you wouldn't—"

"He's a nice young professor from London. Over here on a sabbatical."

"When you say young . . ."

"He's only forty-three, dear."

Annie was twenty-eight. "Oh." She rubbed her forehead. "The thing is—"

"No arguments. Your father and I want you settled.

We won't be around to look after you forever."

"I can look after myself." She felt her hand fist, released it with effort. There was no point in getting angry, not when this was a conversation they'd been having for more years than she could remember. "I'm not a child."

"Well you can't spend the rest of your life alone."

Her mother's tone was harsh, but it held an edge of desperation—Kimberly really was worried by the thought of her daughter living a solitary life. She'd never bothered to wonder if Annie was single by choice. "Professor Markson is a lovely man. You could do a lot worse."

What her mother actually meant, Annie thought with a stab of old resentment, was that it wasn't as if she had any other options. To Kimberly, Annie was a damaged,and fragile creature most men would bypass. "Is Caro coming?"

"Of course not." Her mother made a sound of annoyance. "We want the professor's attention on you.

Much as I like her, your cousin tends to steal the limelight, even now that she's married."

Annie's headache intensified—Caro was usually the only point of sanity at these ritual humiliations.

"Right."

"I'll expect you at seven for cocktails."

"I might be a little late."

"Work?"

"No." How did she say this? "I, er, arranged an in-depth tour of Yosemite." Though she didn't live far from the forest, her parents were closer to San Francisco. Even in a high-speed vehicle, it would take her over an hour to make the trip.

"Really, Annie. You knew we were having this dinner."

"I said I didn't want to be set up on any more dates." Especially when she had no intention of marrying or entering into a long-term relationship.

Ever. And most certainly not when the men came in expecting someone like Caro and got Annie instead.

"I'll try to be there as soon as I can, but I can't promise anything."

Her mother hung up after a few more sharp words.

Rubbing her forehead, Annie walked out of the bedroom and to the bathroom, cell phone still in hand.

After that call, she definitely needed the soothing properties of a bath liberally laced with mineral salts.

Stripping off, she sat on the edge of the tub while it filled, taking the chance to massage some of the stiffness out of her thigh.

Does it hurt?

Such a simple question, without judgment or pity.

It had undone her just a little. Not only that, but Zach had continued to flirt with her even after discovering that she was less than perfect. It might not have meant much to him, but it had meant something to her.

No, Angelica, you can't do that. Your leg's too weak.

Too often, it felt as if her mother had been born into the wrong race. She would've made a good Psy, with her analytical mind and need for perfection in all things.

The only place Kimberly had failed was with

Annie.

Her mood might've dimmed again, but she was too busy daydreaming about kissing Zach on those beautiful lips of his. The man was too sinful to be real.

And the way he flirted . . . wow. It would've been nice to be confident enough to flirt back. "Instead of blushing and going tongue-tied," she muttered.

She'd seen enough DarkRiver couples to identify the kind of women dominant changeling men found attractive—and Zach was definitely a dominant. Those women were all striking in some way, but it was their self-assurance that really shone through. Vividly intelligent, they didn't hesitate to speak their minds, or give back as good as they got. Feminine strength didn't scare men of Zach Quinn's ilk, it enticed them.

And that was exactly what attracted her to him.

She knew after having met him only once that he'd never tell her she couldn't do something. Zach would simply expect her to match him. And that was a seduction all on its own.

The bath pinged to alert her it was full. She was about to step in when her eye fell on the cell phone she'd left on top of her discarded clothes. She grabbed it, deciding to give Caro a call. Her cousin was an expert on men, and it was advice on that subject that Annie needed right now.

Putting it within reach, she sank into the hot water with a moan. After ten minutes of just lying there soaking in the heat, she reached out to get the phone.

It beeped an incoming call as her fingers brushed the case. Rolling her eyes because it was probably her mother again, she flipped it open without checking the display and answered audio only. *

"It's me," she said, dropping her head back against the wall and pressing her feet flat against the end of the bath.

"Hello, me."

Her breath stuck in her throat at the sound of that sensually amused voice. "Zach . . . Mr. Quinn—" She'd have jerked upright except that she was frozen in place.

"Zach," he corrected. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, I"—water dripped as she raised a hand to push streamers of hair off her face—"I was just relaxing."

"In the bath?"

She blinked, mortified that she'd left the visual feed on by accident. But no, it was switched off.

"Leopards have good ears."

Her cheeks colored. "Of course." She stayed very still, not wanting him to hear her splashing about.

"I didn't mean to intrude into your relaxation time." An apology made in a voice that was close to a purr.

Annie told herself to breathe. "That's okay."

Realizing he couldn't see her, she stopped fighting herself and allowed her face to suffuse with the pleasure she got from simply listening to him. She'd never before met a man with a voice like Zach's—so masculine, but with that delectable hint of play. As if while he might be a honed blade of a soldier, he knew how to laugh, too. "Was there a problem with Bryan?"

"No, JB's fine. No runs with the other kids for a week for him."

Annie frowned. "I thought he'd have entertainment privileges suspended."

Zach chuckled, and it rippled through her like living fire. "That is his favorite form of entertainment.

Leopard changel-ings, especially boys his age, hate being trapped inside."

"Of course." She remembered one of the other parents saying something along those lines during a parent-teacher conference. "Was that what you called to tell me?"

"That, and I wanted to warn you about the cold up in the higher elevations. We might even hit some snow. Dress in layers."

"Okay." She bit down on her lower lip, wanting to keep him on the phone but not knowing what to say to achieve that goal. "So, 9:00 a.m. tomorrow?"

"Hmm." He sounded distracted to her ears.

"I should let you go," she began.

"Tired of me already?"

She really didn't know how to deal with him. "No."

Another male chuckle. "Tell me something about you, Annie."

"What do you want to know?" Why did he want to know?

"How long have you been a teacher?"

"Five years," she said with a smile. "I started teaching new entrants, but for the past couple of years, it's been kids Bryan's age."

"You like it."

"I love it." She found she'd relaxed again, soothed by the timbre of his voice, so easy, so deliciously male.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a forest ranger, specializing in the predatory species that call Yosemite home."

The work fitted him better than anything she

could've imagined. "Do you like what you do?"

"It's in my blood." He paused. "Someone's at the door. I'll pick you up at nine on the dot. Sweet dreams." The last was a husky murmur laced with temptation.

"Bye." She ended the call and just sat there, flushing alternately hot and cold. Surely she was reading too much into the conversation. He'd called to make sure she dressed right. The way his voice had felt like a caress over her most sensitive skin . . »-that was the result of her pulse-pounding susceptibility to him. It didn't mean he wanted her, too.

But she couldn't quite stop herself from hoping.

Zach pulled open the door to his small home, already aware of his visitor's identity. He'd picked up the scent the instant the other changeling stepped out of his vehicle.