Him.

It slowly dawned on her that she was acting like a crazy woman.

Then she felt his hands travel up under the back of her sundress and toward the front of her body, where his palms spread wide over her bare breasts and he growled-there was no other word for it-he growled into her mouth as he drew big circles over her nipples with the flat of his palms, then pinched, rolled, until they stung with need.

Her lungs began to burn. Her toes began to curl. It was the beginning of the end.

"You want me right here, right now, don't you?" Thomas had freed his mouth from hers long enough to gasp into her ear. "Tell me what you want, Emma. I'll do it."

It occurred to her that unless something seriously huge happened in the next few seconds-on the scale of earthquake, fire, flood, or asteroid impact-she was about to drag Thomas Tobin to the barn, where she'd tell him exactly what she wanted and expect to get it. Big time.

Then she had the oddest sensation that they weren't alone.

She stopped her gyrations. She stilled her hands. "Stop," she whispered to him. "Please. God. No."

Emma eased away from Thomas's body and turned her head.

Leelee stood behind the screen door, framed in the hall light, her face wracked with horror and rage. A small cry escaped her mouth. Then she whipped around, her summer nightgown swinging at her shins, and raced up the stairs.

"Oh, shit!" Emma extricated herself from Thomas's grasp and stood on the porch, hugging herself, then hiding her face. After a few gulps of air she looked back at Thomas, still on the railing, somewhat hunched over and gasping for breath.

What had she done?

"I've got to go to her." Emma could feel the heat flying off the surface of her skin into the evening air. She was coming down from her high, away from the edge. She was seeing things the way a mature adult woman responsible for a child should see them, not some sex-crazed maniac.

Thomas was experiencing a slowdown of his own, but he also felt in shock-not just from the sudden loss of her heat and passion-but from the otherworldly power in just that one taste of Emma Jenkins.

He'd been right-this was going to work out. It had to. Because nothing in his life had ever felt that real, and suddenly Thomas felt compelled to claim her, mark her for his own so that no other man in the world could ever touch her.

All from just one kiss.

"Emma, I-"

"I know," she snapped. "You are absolutely right."

Thomas frowned and eased down off the railing. "I didn't even say anything." He took a careful step toward her.

She straight-armed him in the chest. "Yeah, but you were going to say it was a mistake, and I completely agree. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Dammit, I was not going to say that!" Thomas grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled it to his lips. "Emma. That was not amistake." He kissed her little clenched fist and made eye contact. In a soothing voice he said, "Baby, that was a lot of things-wild, surprising, amazing-but a mistake it wasn't."

"Okay. No. Wait. I can't talk with you about this because I've got to go to Leelee. Do you understand? I have to go to her-now. She's the most important thing in the world to me."

The instant Emma withdrew her hand from his grasp her knees gave out. She started to fall, but Thomas caught her in his arms.

"No!" Emma went rigid and twisted away toward the door. "Oh God-I've screwed up so bad." She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Leelee's in there! My dad's in there! And I'm out here behaving like a-" She let out a frustrated groan. "We should forget this ever happened. I'll help you with Hairy, but this-whatever this thing is between us-it's just not the right time for me. Good night."

"Stop right there." Thomas spun her around, and before she could protest, he put his mouth on hers again, calming, stroking, sealing the understanding between them.

"There are no mistakes between us, Emma." He kissed her forehead. "Take care of Leelee. We'll talk tomorrow."

She was already gone. The screen made a sharp crack when it closed, followed by the deep thud of the old oak panel door and the slide of the dead bolt.

Thomas stood on the porch, still erect, still in shock, still trying to get his bearings. He felt a soft brush against his ankle, and saw Hairy gazing up at him.

Thomas let go with a sharp laugh. "That sure sucks, doesn't it, pal?"

No kidding, Big Alpha. What are we going to do now?

"We'll figure something out." As Thomas bent down to retrieve the dog, Hairy leaped into the air to meet him halfway, as if making it easier for him.

Thomas smiled and cocked his head, taking a moment to study the dog. "Huh." Then he tucked Hairy under his arm and headed down the front steps.

Thomas dropped the dog on the passenger seat towel. "When am I gonna catch a break with that woman, Hairy? When monkeys fly out of my butt?"

If Hairy had been physiologically capable, he would have laughed. Poor Big Alpha.

"Let's go home, little buddy."

Hairy grinned up at him. Yeah. Let's go home.

Aaron woke up gagging.

His arms were imprisoned painfully at his sides. His head was tilted back at an unnatural angle. The metal felt cold and hard in his mouth and he could taste the blood pooling in the soft upper palate.

Dimly, he realized he could choke to death on his own blood in this position.

He felt his eyes fly wide in terror, but he couldn't see much-other than the open-pored, scarred skin of the Ugly One, too close in the light of the motel reading lamp. The Ugly One must be holding the gun. Aaron couldn't see the other man at all, the one who held his arms.

"Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" The Ugly One's breath was sickeningly sweet, like peppermint over rotted flesh. "We get every fucking penny, or you die. We get half of it Friday or we torch your precious little Z. Do you understand?"

Aaron tried to nod but the gun barrel scraped against the tender flesh of his mouth with the slight movement. Another stab of pain ripped through him. All he could think was, Not the Z! Anything but the Z!

Aaron felt himself being turned on his side. He heard the cracking thud on the back of his head just as the world went black.

Chapter 10 I Feel for You

"What are you, friggin' nuts?" Stephano's laugh nearly shook the picture frames off his desk. "You want me to authorize the payment of eight thousand dollars to a pet psychic?"

"For God's sake, Vinny-I said psychiatrist, not psychic!" Thomas looked to his captain, then Lieutenant Regina Massey, then back to his boss. "She's a doctor of veterinary medicine who specializes in animal behavior. It's a new and very specialized field of study."

"Uh-huh." The captain's eyes glazed over. "You know, Tobin, I think I'd have a better chance of justifying eight grand so me and the wife could go to Bermuda and sit around drinking banana daiquiris. The answer would have to be no."

"Then I'll pay her myself."

In truth, it was a possibility Thomas had already considered. He owed Slick everything he could do for him. Besides, he saw it as an investment in his future-his future with Emma.

"So would that be a problem? Kind of like my own private consultant?"

Stephano's two eyebrows bunched together over the bridge of his nose until they formed a unibrow of thick, black consternation. "What? Are you doing her or something?"

Thomas straightened in his chair. "Jesus, Vinny. You're a pig."

Stephano's expression relaxed. "Oh. She's an ugly pet psychic."