Kara's smile bloomed. "Come on."

Faith followed Kara down the stairs, through the now-empty foyer, and down the hall to a large dining room as beautifully decorated as the rest of the house. As she entered the room, she spied Hawke sitting at the huge dining table talking with Vhyper.

Hawke saw her and smiled, sending her pulse into a flutter. Vhyper acknowledged her with a nod that was neither friendly nor unfriendly.

"Faith's thirsty," Kara announced cheerily as she led Faith through the room, toward a door at the far end.

Out of the corner of her eye, Faith watched Hawke rise and start after them. The excited pleasure the realization triggered had her feeling a moment's guilt. Then again, what woman wouldn't get a thrill from having a Feral Warrior smile at her? Hawke was just being friendly. And she was just a little starstruck. That was all.

Kara pushed through the swinging door. Faith followed, feeling Hawke's presence at her back, watching as one muscular arm reached over her head to hold the door open for her. Warmth spread through her body, the desire to grin nearly overwhelming her. Voices carried from deeper in the kitchen, a youthful male's and a high-pitched but pleasant female's.

Kara stopped so suddenly that Faith nearly ran into her, and turned a worried gaze to Hawke. "I should have warned her."

"She'll do fine," he said quietly. As Faith looked up at him questioningly, he met her gaze with a warmth that curled her toes. He spoke quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Pink is half-flamingo and very self-conscious. I'll explain more later."

Faith nodded, her attention split between his intriguing words and the delight that danced inside her at his attention. At his nearness. She felt . . . quivery. Unsettled. Like a kid with her first crush.

Good grief. That was exactly what she felt like. Which was ridiculous, of course. She'd just met the man. And she was marrying another.

Whom she'd also just met.

It was crazy. She'd gone decades without a single male turning her head in any but the most cursory way. Then again, never before had she met a Feral Warrior. Perhaps it wasn't such a surprise that two had caught her eye. She should probably be grateful that she wasn't having heart palpitations for more of them.

"Pink, Xavier," Kara called. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

The voices went silent. A moment later, from around the corner walked the oddest pair. The woman, just as Hawke had warned her, looked kind of like a flamingo. Bright pink feathers covered her human-looking face and arms - human-looking except for the unblinking bird eyes that watched her warily. At the bird-woman's side stood a young man, several inches taller, his eyes shifting unnaturally, clearly unseeing. His arm was slung casually across Pink's shoulders, his expression open, curious, and radiating a friendliness Faith couldn't help but respond to.

"This is Faith," Kara said. "Soon to be the mate of the new fox shifter."

"I'm very pleased to meet you both," Faith said sincerely.

Xavier grinned. "I'd like to shake your hand, but I don't want to knock anything over."

Faith slipped out of Kara's hold and stepped forward, within his reach. "I'm here, Xavier. I'd like to shake your hand, too." She glanced at Pink. "Both of yours, if that's okay."

The bird-woman said nothing. Xavier reached for Faith, and she intercepted his hand. When he released her, Faith smiled at Pink, letting her know she wasn't at all offended if Pink chose not to reach out to her. But to her surprise, Pink lifted her own hand, mimicking Xavier.

Faith felt a strong stab of empathy for this woman who must feel so out of place in any company. Gently, she took her hand and squeezed ever so slightly, marveling at the soft feel of feathers. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm so honored to be here."

"Xavier and I made oatmeal cookies," Pink said quietly. "Would you care for some?"

"Yes, very much. Thank you."

As Pink turned toward the back counter, Faith felt a large, warm hand curl around her shoulder from behind, squeezing lightly. "Well, done," Hawke said quietly.

She glanced up at him, turning, her temple brushing his jaw before he'd pulled fully back. Their gazes met, warmth and embarrassed laughter arcing between them at the small collision.

Hawke stepped away. "Lemonade?" he asked as he strode to the refrigerator.

"Pink makes the best lemonade," Xavier enthused. "She only uses real lemons, and she rolls them first to make them warm and soft so they give up all their juice."

Faith glanced at Kara to find the other woman watching her curiously. But a moment later, Kara stepped over to her and slipped her arm through Faith's. Together, they turned to watch Hawke pour several glasses as Xavier revealed all of Pink's lemonade secrets.

"X? Pink?" Hawke asked. "Lemonade?"

"Sure!" Xavier replied.

"No thank you, Hawke." Pink ambled toward them carrying a large tin and set it on the black granite countertop. As Pink lifted the lid, the smell of freshly baked oatmeal cookies filled the kitchen.

Kara reached for one and motioned Faith to join her. Hawke slid the glasses toward them, then took one to Xavier.

"Thanks, Dude!"

A moment later, Faith felt Hawke once more at her back, brushing her shoulder as he reached for a cookie.

Kara looked at him with amusement. "Since when did you acquire a sweet tooth?" She glanced at Faith. "When I first got here, all they ate was meat."

Hawke turned sideways, leaning against the island only a few inches from Faith's elbow. He was crowding her, just a little, in a way she suspected was common to shape-shifters since she knew them to be particularly physical creatures. In a way that shot her awareness of him sky-high. She could almost feel the heat from his body.

"It's hard not to crave a little sweetness when there's so much in the room," Hawke said quietly, a twinkle in his eye.

Kara laughed.

Though the words were blatant flattery, Faith sensed sincerity in them. Faith turned to find him watching her with a look in his eyes that made her chest feel suddenly tight, turning her breathing rapid. And shallow.

She supposed it was a good thing all the Ferals didn't affect her like this, or she'd never take a full breath again.

She forced herself to nibble the soft, delicious cookie as she struggled to ignore her body's inappropriate reaction to the male at her side.

As Xavier regaled them, in detail, about the food they'd prepared for the reception, they each had several cookies. Finally, Kara glanced at the clock. "I'd better get moving. Are you ready to head back upstairs, Faith?"

"If you want another cookie first, I'll show you the way," Hawke offered.

Faith looked at him with surprise, and their gazes caught. He wanted her to stay, she'd heard it in his voice and could see it in his eyes. Was he feeling this . . . weirdness . . . between them, too? Not weirdness. Attraction. Those dark eyes watched her in a way that set butterflies to flight in her stomach. And she knew this was a mistake. She could feel the electricity arcing in the air between them.

She needed to stop this, to leave with Kara and end it now. But staying a few more minutes, enjoying the decadent pleasure of a rare and harmless flirtation, was such a temptation.

"That works," Kara said, a smile in her voice. "I'll see you both soon."

Faith pulled her gaze from Hawke's just as Kara disappeared through the swinging door. Pink and Xavier, too, had wandered away at some point, leaving her alone in the kitchen with Hawke. Maxim would not be happy. And the way her pulse was tripping, she couldn't really blame him.

She stepped away, casually circling the island until the wide counter separated her from Hawke, then reached for another cookie. Just one more, then she'd go. "You really don't eat sweets?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she remembered the way he'd alluded to her and Kara as "sweets." Her gaze snapped up to his, heat rising in her cheeks at the weak double entendre. He wouldn't have caught it, surely.

The mix of laughter and heat in his eyes told her he had. Most definitely. But to her relief, he acted the gentleman, answering the question she'd intended to ask, not the far more carnal one.

"None of the current Ferals has much of a sweet tooth, nor have the past couple of Radiants. Kara's the exception. Skye, too, loves sweets, so Pink bakes on a regular basis for the first time in years." His eyes smiled at her. "What about you?"

Faith returned his smile. "I enjoy a sweet treat when I have a little extra money." She felt herself falling into his eyes. Jerking her gaze away, she looked around - the dark cherry cabinets, the gleaming appliances . . . anywhere but the man. "This kitchen is beautiful. How long have you lived here?"

"We redid the kitchen about ten years ago. But we built the house centuries ago."

"You built it?" She looked at him with surprise.

"Not me personally. I haven't been alive that long. Lyon, Tighe, Kougar, and Wulfe have, though. They came to America from Europe in 1540. Initially they lived in a series of small houses while they sought a place with a strong conduit to the Earth's energies. They finally found it here, among the rocks that make up the cliff face overlooking the Potomac. We call it the goddess rock."

"Where did the Ferals live before America? I know they were in Scotland at some point. One of the men in my childhood enclave had lived near them then."

Hawke nodded. "They came to America from Spain. But before that, they'd lived in Ireland, Scotland, what's now Germany, France."

Faith watched him, fascinated as much by his words as by the play of light on his rugged face. "If I asked, could you tell me the dates and the reason for each move?"

As she spoke, the door swung open, and Tighe strode in. "Hawke can tell you anything you want to know about any subject, trust me." He glanced at them curiously. "Just the two of you?"

Hawke's expression tightened slightly. "Kara and Faith snuck down to raid the kitchen. Kara just left to get ready for the reception."

Tighe nodded. "Maxim?"

Faith tensed. "I think he's still in his room. Have you seen him?"

"No." The contemplative look in Tighe's eyes only deepened. "Delaney was trying to hold out for the reception, but she's too hungry." A smile broke over his face. "She's always hungry."

As Tighe began piling cookies on a small plate, Faith turned back to Hawke. "So how do you know so much? You must have gone to school."

Tighe snorted. "Twenty-four degrees. Or is it twenty-five?"

Hawke's smile had a charmingly self-deprecating quality to it. "Twenty-seven, though most are obsolete. They were earned a long, long time ago."

She watched him with wonder. Twenty-seven degrees. "What are your favorite subjects?"

"She's as curious as you are," Tighe muttered as he turned and went back through the door, cookie plate in hand.

Hawke shrugged. "I've studied everything from philosophy to engineering, but I've always been most fascinated by people."

"Humans?"

"All people. At heart, we're basically the same regardless of race - human, Therian. Even Mage."

"I love to study people, too. I envy you getting to go to school. Everything I know I've gotten out of books. Or living."

"You never had a tutor?"

"No."

"I used to be one. Before I was marked. I can be one again." A gentle smile spread over his mouth. "For you."

Her own smile ignited until she felt herself beaming. "I'd like that." And she meant it. How she would enjoy sitting by this man's side hour after hour, listening to his rich voice as he opened the secrets of the universe to her curious mind.

As they smiled at one another, something began to change. His eyes began to gleam and darken as if opening to fathomless depths. The already-charged air between them thickened and danced, caressing her skin, sensitizing her flesh until even the touch of her clothing became too intense.

Slowly, his smile died, his eyes glowing with an intensity that set her pulse to hammering, calling to her until it was all she could do not to step forward, close the distance between them, and slide into his arms.

With dismay, she wrenched her gaze from his. This wasn't right. She shouldn't be feeling this. She shouldn't be with him at all, not alone.

Swallowing hard, struggling to corral her unruly pulse, she glanced at the clock and groaned. Maxim would be at her bedroom door to pick her up in fifteen minutes.

"I have to go." She spun toward the swinging door.

"Can you find your way back to your room?"

"Yes." What had she been thinking, staying with Hawke so long? She'd given in to a temptation she should never have indulged in, fanning an attraction that had to die a quick death.

Maxim was the man she was intended for, not Hawke. She knew it deep in her heart and had since the moment she'd met him. Which meant she was going to have to stay away from Hawke until his attention turned elsewhere. And hers turned where it needed to stay.

On Maxim. Her soon-to-be mate.

Fifteen minutes later, an imperious rap sounded at her door. Maxim. And she wasn't quite ready.

"I'll be out in a minute," she called. She'd taken a quick shower, careful to keep her hair dry since she'd washed it that morning, then pulled on a black dress with capped sleeves and a modest v-neck. The dress was made of a lightweight knit with a full skirt that fell to her knees. Hopefully, it would be appropriate.