The rain, which had been pattering on the gazebo’s roof, suddenly got much louder. Lars glanced out a window. “Damn! Hail. Would you like me to run for an umbrella?”

“It’s all right, Sir Galahad.” She grinned. “Sure and I won’t melt.”

•●•

Tamara climbed the stairs with Lars right behind her. They’d run into Garen and Miranda when they’d come back inside the house during the hail storm. Garen had insisted on cracking a bottle of champagne to celebrate their mating, and Miranda had immediately begun planning their wedding. It wouldn’t happen until June, so they had a few months, but Miranda assured her they’d need every minute of it to attend to all the details. About all they’d decided was to hold the ceremony at Lars’ home in Heidelberg.

They’d sat in the study for hours chatting until Tamara had actually dozed off. Lars had excused them then and they were finally on their way to their room. She tried to think how long it had been since she’d had a night’s sleep and couldn’t come up with an answer. Certainly not since she’d killed Jaret, and that had to have been going on a few days ago. Maybe more. She tried counting days, but her brain was too fuzzy.

Lars opened the door to their room; she crossed it on autopilot and fell onto the bed, where he took her clothes off. She tried to help, but he batted her hands away and crooned to her in German.

“What are you saying?” she asked sleepily.

“That I love you. That you are very beautiful and very precious.”

“It’s the first thing I want to do.”

“What is?” He addressed his own clothing, dropping it in a heap on a nearby chair.

“Learn German.”

“The Company has language tapes for almost every language.”

“Sure and you would. Makes sense.”

“What I speak is a dialect. Much of it has fallen out of usage, but if you tackle modern German, you will be able to understand most of my words. We can practice together, so long as you promise to help me with Irish.” He pulled the window curtains and joined her in the large, comfy bed. She rolled into his arms and was asleep in moments.

When she woke, the room was truly dark, so much so she knew night had not only fallen, but moved past midnight. The gentle sound of Lars’ breathing next to her was reassuring. She reached for him and was surprised when he said, “You are awake, liebchen.”

“Yes, but how come you are?”

“I do not need much sleep.” He rolled over and struck a match. The smell of sulphur was sharp for a moment, and then a candle flickered to life on his bedside table. She sat up in bed and turned so she could look at him. His ice-blond hair was tousled from the pillow. His face, while still sharp planes and angles, looked softer somehow, and his gray eyes reflected twin flames in their depths from the candlelight.

She traced the line of his cheekbone down to his jaw. “I can’t believe how lucky I was to find you. You’re such a beautiful man. Kind and compassionate, even though you try to come off tough.”

“What was that you said out in the gazebo? Something like, I have your number.” He grinned. It transformed his face into one that would have fit a mischievous imp. “Maybe my, um, softer side can be our little secret. The men would never stop haranguing me if they overheard you yapping about kind and compassionate.”

“Never fear.” She moved her hand downward, trailing her fingers over his well-muscled shoulders and across his chest. “Earlier you said you were falling in love with me. Sure and that’s a two way street.”

He laid a hand over hers, trapping it atop his hard, flat stomach. “Say it, liebchen.” He speared her with his smoky gaze. “If I could get the words out, anyone can.”

She felt the words, tasted them on her tongue. Her cat purred deep inside, urging her on. “If wanting to spend my life with you, raise children with you, get up with you by my side every day for the rest of my life is love, then yes, I’m in love with you.” Her throat thickened. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

“Thank you. I am ashamed to admit it, but I needed to hear you say just that.”

“Why ashamed?”

A sheepish grin spread over his face. “Because big, tough espionage agents are not supposed to require such things.” He snorted. “You should have watched the struggles Garen went through before he gave up and accepted he and Miranda were mates.”

His cock stirred to life just south of her hand. The tip grazed her and she wriggled her hand from beneath his and curved her fingers around his growing erection. “Guess this little man didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.” She squeezed firmly and his cock jumped in her hand.

Lars laughed. “He sees himself as a pretty important fellow.”

She bent forward and ran her mouth down his breastbone and across his stomach. Just before she took him into her mouth, she looked up long enough to say, “Good, because I see him as pretty important too.”

Tamara licked and kissed up and down the length of Lars’ shaft. His hips settled into a rhythm, and he thrust himself into the combination of mouth and hands she worked him with. Her nipples pebbled as lust electrified her nerves. Her pussy flooded and the sensitive nubbin between her legs swelled with desire.

He pulled her body upward until she kneeled over him. Sliding forward, she seated him at the entrance to her body and pushed until he was all the way inside. He felt incredible, stretching her with his amazing cock. He was so big, he reached places no one else ever had. She settled onto bent knees and watched his stern features melt into ecstasy as they made love.

Lars moved a hand between her legs and settled the other on one of her breasts. He rubbed her clit in small, sensuous circles and twirled her nipple into a hard, aching point before moving to the other breast. Between his cock inside her and his fingers on the center of her sensation, an orgasm spilled from her, racked her with delight, and left her gasping and panting above him.

“Perfect.” He smiled up at her. “I wanted to watch you come.”

She remembered it was what she’d wanted to do, but she’d been so hot her mind had turned to mush. He moved his hands to her hips and thrust deep, withdrew, and did it again. “This one will be for us,” he said. “Touch yourself for me, like you did before.”

She slid a hand between her legs, capturing her passion-slick nub. Something shifted and she felt him in her mind. Felt his body as if it were hers. Felt the heat of her around his cock. The added sensation was like a white-hot jolt of pure lust. She thrust hard against him, matching him stroke for stroke as they urged each other on.

When she came, she felt his orgasm deep in the pit of her belly and shrieked, almost beyond herself, drowning in sensation. There were no more boundaries. She was him. He was her. Joined body and soul forever.

She fell atop him, so shattered breathing took all her concentration. When she could talk again, she asked. “What happened? What did you do?”

“It was not me, but us. When we made love as cats, it cemented the mate bond. We are truly one now, my darling, my love. You are mine and I am yours for forever and a day.”

“Sure and I love the sound of that,” she murmured. “Forever and a day, mo croi, my heart. I will love you always.”

Epilogue

Three months later

Heidelberg, Germany

Lars twisted from side to side, trying to make certain his tuxedo didn’t have any problems and that the studs and cufflinks were all in their proper holes. He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. He was smiling like a besotted fool. He’d have to do something about that, or he’d ruin his image for sure.