by Karen Kelley
She knew Ben would be careful. But what had she really seen? The man had felt real. She rubbed her hand over her eyes, knowing she needed more sleep. That had to be it. At least eight hours tonight, and no more staying up late to read another romantic suspense.
After she gathered her things, Ben walked Callie to her car. She looked around, but the night was still, not even a breeze now, not even a hint of fog. “Thanks, Ben,” she said as she unlocked her door and got in.
It took a few minutes for her car to start, but it finally made it past the chugga-chugga stage and the engine fired off. It was cheap, what could she say. It was also paid for, and it got good gas mileage. Of course, it leaked oil, too.
Even her rattletrap car couldn’t keep her from thinking about what had happened with the jaguar and the naked man. Was she losing her mind? She didn’t know if insanity ran in her family or not since there was no one to ask. Maybe that was the answer. As soon as her ancestors turned twenty-six, they all went crazy and committed suicide, and that’s why she was dumped on the doorstep of an orphanage.
She pulled into her driveway and went inside the one bedroom fixer-upper that the landlady never had time to fix up. It was cheap, too. The only thing she regretted was the “no pet” rule. As soon as she had the animal keeper job, her pay would increase, and a lot of things would change, unless she was going crazy. That might possibly upset her plans.
Her imagination had definitely been in overdrive. Now that she was safe, she could look at it a little differently. She loved jaguars, and the black one had been beautiful. The sexy man was an added bonus. She frowned. He’d felt real enough. It would be nice if she could imagine him in her bed tonight. Not in a stalker, serial killer kind of way. More like he wanted to worship her body way.
Man, she really had to get out more.
After a quick shower, she slipped on her comfy granny nightgown. If she had a hottie in her bed, then she would wear something sultry and sexy, like a lacy red teddy. For just a moment she indulged in a fantasy of her zoo man strolling toward her, his heated gaze never leaving her body.
A dog barked, ruining the moment. Not that it made much difference. For now, she chose the old lady look. It wasn’t like the guy from the zoo would show up at her door.
She snorted.
Even her imagination wasn’t that good.
Tiredness spread throughout her body. Staying up past midnight, then getting up at five had not been one of her brightest ideas. Then add the kids, who were particularly obnoxious this afternoon. Today had literally drained her. All she wanted was a bed, and to look at the inside of her eyelids.
Her stomach growled. Food first.
Her cabinets didn’t yield much. A box of cereal, a can of soup, a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. Even her food supply was pathetic. Soup it was. After opening the can, she dumped it into a plastic bowl and heated it in the microwave, then took it to the living room, and clicked on the television. Rerun, rerun, rerun. She finally settled on watching the end of a movie she hadn’t seen in a long time. The dog died in the end. She really hated when writers killed off an animal, especially after the animal saves the hero’s life.
She sniffed. So what if the dog had been shot. Miracles happened all the time. Especially in the movies. She swiped at the tear that rolled down her face. Great, now she was about to go on a crying jag.
Before that could happen, she switched the channel to one of the reruns, and finished eating her soup. It was so past time for her to go to bed. She glanced at the clock. It was only nine? Not that she really cared. Her body was telling her it was much later.
But when sleep did come, she dreamt of the man at the zoo. He pulled her close, nuzzled her neck. She ran her hands over his body, touching, caressing. He moved closer, tugging her gown over her head, then pressed her body intimately to his. She sighed, letting sleep transport her to a series of erotic dreams where his hands explored her body.
When Callie woke the next morning, she stretched like a contented cat, and opened her eyes.
Then screamed.
The naked man from the zoo sat on the end of her bed, legs crossed as he studied her.
And he was still naked…and so was she.
Chapter 2
This wasn’t happening. Callie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re not real,” she repeated over and over until she could feel herself beginning to relax.
The naked hottie was only the last fragment of a delicious dream she’d been having. Right before she went to sleep, hadn’t she wished he would magically materialize in her bed?
She relaxed and smiled. It had been a great dream. The way he’d touched her, nuzzled her neck, pressed his naked body against hers. It had been one long sensuous dream. That was probably why she’d apparently gotten rid of her hot granny gown sometime during the night. Okay, now she was back to normal. No more fantasies that a hot, sexy man was in her bed. The idea was ludicrous.
Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She was wide awake now. She opened her eyes.
He was still there, sitting on the end of her bed, staring at her with what appeared to be…amusement? He laughed at her! He was in her house, her bed, and he laughed at her!
Callie sat up, the cover fell to her waist. His gaze dropped. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it against her chest. “Get out! Who are you? How did you get into my house? Where’s my gown?”
One eyebrow arched. “Are you always this emotionally unstable?”
“Emotionally…” she sputtered.
“Unstable,” he slowly and distinctly repeated.
“I am not emotionally unstable!” Oh God, she was arguing with the serial killer. She took another deep breath, then exhaled once more. She needed to stay calm. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to call the police.”
Oh, yeah, now he really looked nervous—not! He didn’t even flinch. Just sat there staring at her. And why wouldn’t he? He probably weighed around one-ninety. She would be no match for him.
Maybe if she kept him talking, he wouldn’t kill her right away. She’d once read somewhere that if you could befriend your abductor, then he would be less likely to kill you. Not that he’d abducted her, but he had apparently broken into her home. God, she hoped this worked.
“How…uh…did you find me?” Surely someone would’ve noticed a naked man following her car. For the first time in her life, Callie wished her rattletrap car went faster.
She frowned. How had he followed her? Her car wasn’t that slow. He probably had his own car. He’d waited for her to leave, then followed.
So, he drove around naked. And no one noticed this?
“Does it matter how I came to be here?” he asked.
“I guess not.” If she knew where he came from, then maybe she could talk him into going back, though. “Where are you from?”
“New Symtaria.”
“Never heard of it. Is that a suburb of Dallas?” New ones were cropping up all the time.
“It’s in another galaxy.”
All righty. “Another planet?”
He nodded, still looking amused about something.
“And you are?”
“Prince Rogar.”
Delusional. Probably escaped from the state hospital. This was worse than she ever could have imagined. Not only was he naked, but he was a nut. Automatically, her eyes strayed downward. She swallowed, then quickly jerked her gaze to a safer place. She had to stop looking…looking at him…down there. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a naked man before.
This was ridiculous. She needed help and all she could think about was staring at his…his nakedness. She had to call the police or something—911. Her cell phone was in her purse. From now on, she was keeping it on her bedside table. If there even was a from-now-on in her future. Okay, keep him talking.
“And why are you here?” She smiled. At least she tried to pull it off as a smile even though her stomach rumbled, and her hands were sweating, and she was probably go
ing to throw up any second.
“To take you home.”
She looked around. “I am home, so…bye-bye.”
He grinned and she noticed his teeth were pearly white, and he had a nice smile. Ted Bundy probably had a nice smile, too.
“You’re part Symtarian,” he continued.
“Okayyy…” He thought she was from another planet, too. This was worse than she could’ve imagined.
“When our planet was dying, some of the people were sent to other places. An expedition went in search of a new planet to call home. Some of our people were forgotten, and became integrated with the aliens. Now we’re searching for them so we can bring them home.”
“And you’re doing it without clothes.”
“It happens when I shapeshift.”
“Well, of course, I should have guessed.” The guy was a raving lunatic. “And what form do you take?”
A fog began to roll across her bedroom. She glanced nervously around, then looked at her crazy guy. Her mouth dropped open as he slowly began to change.
The prince dude gritted his teeth and downed his head. His skin changed from flesh to short black hair with barely visible spots. He stretched out across her bed, his hand curling into a fist, becoming a paw.
Oh, God, she was crazy. Now she would never get her chance to work with the big cats—except in her warped mind. It wasn’t fair.
The fog rolled in thicker until all Callie saw were patches of black fur, a glimpse of golden eyes boring into her. She couldn’t move. She tried, but her legs wouldn’t budge.
The fog slowly dissipated.
The black jaguar from last night lay across the end of her bed, panting slightly. It met her gaze, and seemed as though it was gauging her reaction.
She opened her mouth, then closed it when no words came out. The cat purred from deep in its throat. She swallowed past the lump in hers. What if the jag was real? Maybe she wasn’t crazy. Oh, yeah, now she felt better. She was going to die. Then again, she might already be dead and this was hell.
Whatever it was, the jaguar was still stretched across the foot of her bed.
The room began to tilt, then grow dark, and she knew without a doubt, she was about to faint. She’d never fainted in her life.
Rogar’s spirit melded with that of the jaguar Balam, his animal guide. They were one, yet separate, their thoughts intertwining.
She didn’t take that very well at all. I told you it was too soon to change in front of her. She’s not used to it like we are, Balam’s thoughts mingled with Rogar’s.
Yes, this complicates matters, but surely the woman that bore her explained her existence, Rogar told him, hating that his animal guide had been right…again.
From her reaction, it’s doubtful. She can’t return without some knowledge of her ancestors. The shock would be too much. You’ll need to teach her our ways.
An irritation, but I will learn more about this planet while I’m here so all is not a waste.
Are you so sure she will leave Earth? Balam asked.
Of course she will return with me, she has no choice. This is her heritage. I shall convince her. I am a prince after all.
The fog rolled across the room, and the change began. The familiar ache in Rogar’s gut, the burning sensation that he had grown used to long ago.
Rogar became a man once again. He studied the young woman. She was quite beautiful, with dark hair and deep green eyes. Odd, but beautiful. The oddness must come from her Earth heritage.
She also seemed quite disturbed about his ability to shapeshift. She apparently had no knowledge of Symtarians. Did those she was born unto explain nothing? Others before him had brought back stories. Stories that some of the non–pure bloods were unaware of their origins. He wouldn’t be able to take her home until he taught her the ways of their people. Balam was correct that this complicated things.
He frowned.
She still hadn’t moved.
Could she be dead? He reached forward and took her hand, then let it fall back to the bed. Limp. It was a possibility the shock had killed her. He pulled on the cover, exposing more of her. No her chest moved up and down, so she still breathed.
Her chest moved very nicely. He pulled the cover to her ankles. She had a nice form. Her breasts were full, her waist small, and she had very long legs.
He moved closer, running the palm of his hand over her body, watching the nipples tighten. Her skin was soft and smooth. She moaned when he brushed his fingers through the dark curls at the juncture of her legs.
Her eyelids fluttered, before slowly opening. “What?” She glanced around, then threw her hands across her chest and jerked her legs up.
“You looked at me!” she sputtered.
His brow wrinkled. “And that angers you?”
“Of course it angers me.”
She grappled for the cover but it was just out of her reach so he handed it to her. She seemed quite upset with him.
“You took advantage of me after I fainted.”
“It’s wrong to look at the naked body?”
“Yes!”
“But what about when you look at mine? Is that not equally wrong?”
“I’m not looking at you.” Her gaze moved downward, then shot back up.
“Aren’t you?” He smiled. This part Earthling, part Symtarian, was a mass of contradictions.
She grabbed the cover and wrapped it around her, then stumbled into the other room. She came back a few minutes later with a large white cloth.
“It’s a towel. Do me a favor and wrap it around your waist.”
She really had a problem with his nakedness, yet he could sense a passionate nature within her.
“How did you do it?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Do what?”
“Change into a jaguar.”
“I told you, I’m Symtarian. We are a race of shapeshifters.”
“Or you’re a damned good magician.”
“Would you like me to show you again?”
“No!”
She was very fervent when she was cornered. And he could almost feel the rapid beat of her heart as it pounded inside her chest.
“The towel?” she reminded him.
He slowly came to his feet, noting the way her gaze lowered, then quickly darted elsewhere. He grinned as he knotted the towel at his waist. She looked at him, saw that he was smiling, and frowned. She was even more alluring when she frowned.
“What do they call you?” he asked.
“Callie.”
“Callie,” he said, testing the sound of her name on his lips. “I like it.” It seemed to unnerve her when he said her name.
“Do you have someplace to go?” she asked. “Someone I can call?”
“I’ve finally found you, why would I leave when I just arrived?”
She closed her eyes and he wondered if she might be going through some kind of ritual. She closed her eyes quite often, losing herself in what appeared to be a trance of some kind. But then, she opened her eyes again.
“I really don’t want to have to call the police to come take you away because this isn’t where you belong.”
“You have a mark on you. It looks like a rose.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued, realizing it might be harder to convince her than he’d first imagined. “On your right cheek.” When her face flamed, he knew she was aware what cheek he spoke about.
She pulled the cover closer around her. “You looked at my butt!”
“No, I just know it’s there.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.” She jutted her chin forward.
Rogar had an incredible urge to cup her chin, pull her closer and taste her, inhale her scent. It hadn’t been enough to hold her in his arms last night, to feel her naked body pressed close to his. But he didn’t touch her. Instead, he untied the towel.
“What are you doing?” she asked, panic lacing her words.
“I have the same mark. All Symtarians have it.” He t
urned around.
“That doesn’t prove…uh…” Her words stammered to a stop. “So what if you have the same mark.”
He picked up the towel, retied it around his waist, watching her facial expressions. They ranged from denial, to maybe there was truth in his words, then back to denial.
She shook her head. “This is crazy. It’s absurd. You are not an alien, and you need to…to…leave. Right now.”
“Did the people who raised you say nothing about your ancestors?”
She squared her shoulders. “My parents died when I was very young. I grew up in an orphanage.”
Now he understood. Of course, she would deny her heritage. Earthlings weren’t as advanced as other worlds.
There was a knock on her door.
She froze.
“Miss Jordon, are you awake yet?”
“Mrs. Winkle, my landlady.” Her gaze flew to him. “I don’t know what she’ll do if she sees you. Hide!”
She seemed quite flustered by this person she called a landlady. It was interesting to watch Callie.
“I need my robe,” she muttered, dropping the cover.
Very nice.
Before he could study her form, she made a little gurgling noise, then grabbed the cover, and hurried back to the other room, emerging a few moments later wearing a white robe of sorts.
“Stay here,” she said, holding up one hand as if he wouldn’t understand her words. Did she think he was feebleminded?
“Stay!” she said once more, this time gritting her teeth.
She would make a fierce hunter the way she bared her teeth. It didn’t last long, though. Her expression quickly turned to one of pleading.
“Please?”
He nodded once in acquiescence.
“Coming,” she called out as she hurried to the other room, shutting the door to this one.
He casually strolled over and reopened it. He couldn’t see Callie or the landlady, but he would at least hear them talking. He was curious to listen in on their conversation.
Another door opened.
“I was sleeping in this morning,” Callie breathlessly told the landlady.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, but the rent is due, you know.”