a large leafy plant separated her cousin and the policeman from her. byron's large hands cupped her buttocks, pressed her tightly to him. they cannot see us here. have no fear of discovery. he reluctantly let her go to drag her shirt over her head and settle her dark glasses back on her nose.

antonietta stood in silence and darkness while he retrieved her slacks. she jumped when his hand slipped between her legs, his finger pushing inside of her.

i want to be alone with you,cara mia. i hate that we can never be alone. his finger stroked deep. her highly sensitized feminine muscles convulsed around him. she clung to him while her body went up in flames again.

byron's hair brushed her face as he leaned close to help her into her slacks.

you are my lifemate, always in my care.

he was fully clothed.

i don't think i can breathe. carry me upstairs. let's run away together.

his mouth settled over hers, a long, leisurely kiss.

"what in the world is this?" tasha picked up the package lying in the middle of the floor. there was a smear of blood on the brown wrapper.

i fear it is too late, my love.

byron moved them so that they appeared together, walking around a giant potted palm, hands linked. tasha found the package, and we need to know what is inside of it. we must reveal ourselves.

antonietta tried to appear calm and cool and not at all as if she'd been having wild sex only moments earlier. laughter was bubbling up, a very unlike antonietta characteristic. she hardly recognized herself anymore.

"

grazie, tasha." byron took the package right out of her hands and gave it to antonietta. "i was not certain where we left that. good evening, captain vantilla." byron bowed low at the waist.

"signer justicano, its good you were there to rescue signora scarletti."

tasha made a sound of annoyance. "diego, didn't you listen to a single word i said? what were you doing wandering the grove so late at night, byron?"

"tasha, you go too far," antonietta said quietly. "i want you to stop. there is more at stake here than your petty jealousies."

tasha's breath hissed out. "call it what you will. that man is dangerous, and i refuse to allow you get involved with him."

byron studied her scarlet face. she was humiliated in front of the captain, yet she persisted in spite of antonietta's warning. it seemed at odds with her sense of self-preservation.

could she really be afraid for you? you're the one who reads minds. she would know. if i push beyond her barriers, she would know i was there. i am uncertain if i could fog her memory enough to make it worthwhile. who knows why tasha does and says the things she does?

antonietta sounded weary enough that byron swept his arm around her and dragged her to him, giving her shelter against the steady rhythm of his heart.

"you do not seemed surprised, captain," byron said. "is this the first kill? you must tell us what you know."

the captain pushed his hand through his hair, a clear sign of agitation. "this is not the first person killed in this way."

"do you mean to say you've known of this creature, and you didn't warn everyone?" antonietta was outraged.

"it has been in the newspapers, signorina. we brought in the best trackers we could find. the cat has not been found."

"in the meantime, my cousin's wife could have been killed. that's completely unacceptable." there was a soft whip in antonietta's voice. "i have employees who walk from the city to my home daily. i don't want to lose any of them to such a hideous fate as a wild animal killing them."

"it doesn't bear thinking about," tasha contributed with a shudder. "marita had blood all over her. no wonder she collapsed."

"no one should be walking around alone at night." the captain pinned tasha with a steely eye. "there is no reason to be in the grove until this animal is found. i believe the gentleman we found is most certainly one of your grounds-keepers. signor franco scarletti identified him."

"oh, no." antonietta's fingers curled around byron's, hung on tight. "one of ours? we must hire security to escort our people back to their houses until this creature is caught."

"and this has been going on for some time?" byron prompted, his voice a compulsion for truth.

"unfortunately, yes. in other areas for some time. our first discovery was a young woman's body by the sea with her throat torn out. we have plaster of the paw prints. it was identified as a jaguar, a rather large one. the general belief at the time was that someone had one of these cats as a pet, and it either escaped or, like so many others when the laws went into effect against exotic pets, it was dumped in the middle of the night."

tasha sank into a chair. "our grounds are extensive, the wildest country around, and little vincente and margurite play all the time in the maze. they were in such danger, and we never knew."

diego put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "i have three children at home. madre mia takes care of them, and she is old and frail. i've given orders that they remain indoors, but the two oldest get away from her. i worry myself. i do know how you feel. the killings have been far between in a range of well over a hundred miles. we didn't put it together until several months ago."

"when did this start around here, diego?" tasha asked.

"the first body was found in our area nearly two years ago. we searched, of course, but nothing was found. there were two bodies found prior to that one, but it was thought they were dead and wild animals got to them. it took us awhile to put it together that one cat might be actually preying on humans."

"and what does your wife say to this? why does she not stay with your children?" tasha asked.

the question was unexpected, and diego answered truthfully before he could stop himself. "my wife did not want our children or a policeman for a spouse. she left after the bambina was born and does not want to see any of them again." it was a painful moment for him, humiliation and anger shimmering in his dark eyes.

"poor little bambini, abandoned and unwanted," tasha said softly.

"i want them," diego said adamantly. "they do not need a woman who will not love them."

"what is it?" it was one of the few things about being blind that made antonietta crazy. she always had to wait for identification.

"i am sorry, cara mia, it is sheets of music."

antonietta sucked in her breath. finally, they were in the privacy of her sitting room with the doors firmly locked. tasha had settled in for the evening to entertain the captain, and with all the other duties, antonietta thought she would never be alone with byron. curiosity was slowly killing her. that, and wanting to be alone with him.

"my music? she was taking my music out of our home to give to someone else?" antonietta's body didn't feel her own. feverish. needy. incomplete. she moved away from byron to keep him from noticing.

"no. it is not yours. this music is very old. i am afraid to touch it. it could crumble in my fingers."

antonietta went very still. her hand went to her throat. "i know what it is. how did marita get her hands on that? it's kept locked in don giovanni's private safe. no one but don giovanni has the code. at least they shouldn't, and believe me, nonno

would never give away such a treasure. the existence of that composition is not even known outside our immediate family."

byron leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs toward the leaping flames in the fireplace. "it is very valuable?"

"oh, yes, it's valuable. it is genuine, the original work of the composer george frideric handel. as a young man, he visited italy, and of course, he was a frequent guest here at the palazzo. even then the scarletti family had power and wealth and was interested in music, and he was an exceptional talent. no artist would turn down such an invitation. he stayed on and off during the three or four years he was in italy. he left behind many notations and a journal. he also left sheets of music, of cantatas and operas, even oratorios. but our most treasured is a full opera composed by handel for the scarletti family. he was not happy with it. he said it lacked the fire of italy, and he did not want it kept. our family agreed it would never be for public use then or in the future. the scarletti word is sacred. we have kept that vow to him for generations."

byron whistled softly between his teeth. "george handel. i had forgotten he stayed in italy. it was only a short while. he left in 1710 for hanover, as i recall, but left nearly immediately for london. his opera rinaldo was produced the following year."

"you studied handel?" she was shocked.

byron looked down at his hands, surprised he had made such a slip. "i liked his work," he said carefully.

"so do i. he returned years later, when he was looking for artists and performers. did you know in his later days he was blind?" she arched her back, tried to relieve some of the pressure building inside of her.

"i had heard, yes."

his voice wrapped her up in silk and satin. antonietta shook her head. "i need to put the score somewhere safe. i'll talk to nonno tomorrow. he's long gone to bed. i seem to be sleeping later and later every day and miss the activities." she took the package from him, avoided his touch as she did so. "i'll be right back. i'm going to put this in the vault in the passageway. i doubt marita will find it there."

"paul might." byron rose, a lazy, fluid movement. he sounded like a great jungle cat rousing itself from a warm fire. and it irritated the hell out of her. "i am coming with you."

she was already at the door to the passageway. the last thing she wanted was to be with byron in such close quarters. "just relax for a few minutes." she did her best to sound calm. "it won't take long."

"i do not mind. i wanted to get another look at the wall with all the carvings." his body pressed close to hers. she could feel his body heat.

antonietta hurried forward, entering the labyrinth of tunnels without hesitation. byron moved in his usual silent way, but she was all too aware of him. she could almost feel his muscles beneath her itching fingers. erotic images danced in her head. she wanted him with every breath in her body. and he seemed so... unaware... uninterested.

she wanted to shred the package in her hand, rip at something with her nails. her shoes made noise on the ancient marble tiles. her breath seemed overly loud. her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. antonietta counted silently to herself, making each twist and turn sharply.

"our history is very colorful." she made every attempt to carry on a conversation if that was what he desired. a history conversation.

byron continued to prowl silently behind her. breathing on the nape of her neck. smelling good. making his presence known by resting his hand in the small of her back. burning right through her clothing. branding her. claiming her.

"i know you studied the carvings in the wall. did you decipher the very first entry? i would think the earlier entries would be fascinating." byron sensed her growing agitation. when he touched her mind, it was chaotic. there was no one thought. she was confused and angry. brooding. moody. edgy. the gathering of a great storm. she was his lifemate, and whatever she needed he would provide. he was well aware she found the history of her family intriguing. he hoped to distract her for a time.

antonietta clutched the package tighter to her. "i spent some time studying the first bride's entry. she wasn't alone. her husband did his share of carving also. i think it was his idea. i think he wanted his family to know the gifts he secured for them. he was very intrigued with the idea of shape-shifting. the earlier carvings are nearly all of shape-shifters. women and even a few men changing to the jaguar. the earlier etchings are crude, of course, but they are detailed. i think they reveal more of the secrets than the later carvings." she made herself breathe in the oppressive heat of the passageway. if only his breath didn't tease the hair on the back of her neck, she might be able to think straight.

"in the later, more modern days, was there any evidence of shape-shifting?"

she rubbed at her itching skin and stopped directly in front of what appeared to be a solid wall. byron reached past her to run his palm over the smooth surface. her fingers brushed his, caught, and instinctively guided his to the three shallow depressions guarding secrets. it was an admission of trust, and he knew it even before she did.

the wall slid noiselessly away to reveal the air-sealed vault. obviously she knew the sequence of numbers on the keypad. she punched several buttons carefully. the door to the vault opened. there was no light. the passageway was pitch black, but antonietta didn't need light. she was at home in a world of darkness. byron was impressed with her uncanny ability to know exactly where she was in her environment.

"i didn't see any. i think the blood is too diluted."

"could one of your cousins be capable of shifting?" byron posed the question without inflection.

antonietta went still, her hands hovering just inside the vault. "one of my cousins?" she echoed, the idea unsettling. "i can't think that, byron. that one of them would be this creature tearing the throats out of innocent people. it sickens me to even imagine such a possibility."

"the smell of the cat was inside the palazzo. it permeated your grandfather's rooms. you say the sheets of music were kept in don giovanni's private safe. if a shifter was looking for them..."

she thrust the precious music into the vault and slammed it closed. "i don't want to think a member of my family is capable of such cold-blooded murder."

"in the body of a wild predator, it can be very difficult to control the urges. it is said that some shifters do not even recognize their human side. and some animals are much more difficult to control than others."

antonietta bent forward to lean her forehead against the vault in guilt. "i wanted to play the music." the confession came out in a little rush. "if i hear music, no matter how difficult or intricate, i can play it, but i can't see it. i had to ask justine to read it to me. you can imagine how difficult it was for us to decipher the entire score between us, how long it took us. don giovanni knew, of course; he gave it to me, but i was to guard it so carefully. each night i returned it to his room, but anyone could have seen justine and me working together on it."

the action of bending forward brought her buttocks in direct contact with byron's body. he pressed against her, hard and thick and very male. antonietta could have cried in frustration. her skin crawled with need. her body felt tight and alien to her. she straightened immediately to break the contact, pushing away from him to begin the walk down to the history room. she was aware of her own body. the swaying of her hips, the ache in her breasts. it was insanity that she lacked control.

"antonietta, when i touch your mind, you are confused and distraught. i would help you, if you allow me access." byron was going to push past that barrier if she didn't enlighten him soon. he couldn't take her being so upset. they had already exchanged blood twice. the carpathian blood was definitely enhancing her senses, changing her, but he had no idea with her differences, what other changes the blood might cause.

"i prefer to work out my own problems," she said. "i'm sorry if i sound abrupt; everything feels like it's crashing down on me."

"in a partnership, cara, one shares troubles."

"i'm not used to a partnership yet." antonietta softened her voice, not wanting to hurt him. "i'm trying, byron. i really am. i've never had these feelings, and i've never felt so intense about everything. it's unsettling." and i have never been so aware of a man before.

byron caught that very feminine thought. she still didn't accept the power and force of the bond between them. it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. she was both intimidated and a bit frightened: two emotions antonietta scarletti was unfamiliar with. he followed her in silence to the history room.

the door slid aside, and the light automatically leapt to life, displaying the rows and rows, floor to ceiling, of pictures and words and symbols carved into the wall, much like the egyptian hieroglyphics.

antonietta pressed her palm over one of the etchings. "can you imagine the time it took to do this? and it will be here for all time unless the palazzo is destroyed. someday, perhaps a hundred years from now, another scarletti will stand in this room and see what went before them."

byron began reading, totally absorbed in the unfolding drama before him. bride after bride was selected from the small village of jaguar people. there were a few gaps, and as the generations lost touch with what the original scarlettis intended, the brides from the village became fewer, until the bloodline was once again diluted. many of the brides were unhappy with their husbands and the jealousies and intrigues that prevailed in the palazzo through the centuries. some loved their husbands very much. many had gifts of healing and telepathy. the latter stories seemed to indicate telepathy was common among the scarlettis. "this is fascinating, antonietta."

"i used to come here often when i was younger. i could read the wall and most of the diaries myself, even though i couldn't see, and it made me feel independent. of course i can read braille, but most business documents are not put into braille for me, so i rely on justine to read them to me."

and justine had betrayed her. how could she ever trust her with such important and private information again? byron rested his hand over antonietta's. linking them. merging his mind with hers to feel the heart-wrenching sorrow. she no longer trusted her judgment. no longer trusted the sixth sense she used in her relationships with people. justine had done more damage than he had first believed.

"and now you cannot rely on her."

on anyone. the words shimmered unbidden in her mind. she wiped them away quickly. "i'm not feeling sorry for myself, byron. i learned a long time ago to pick up the pieces and move on. i just feel like i'm in quicksand, and every step i take, everywhere i turn, i'm being pulled down. i want solid ground."

he pulled her palm to his heart. "right here, antonietta. i am right here."

she tugged to get her hand free. "how much do i know of you? you want complete trust. you want me to change my entire life for you."

byron kept possession of her hand. the jaguar in her was close. wary. wanting to run. the woman in her was feeling exactly the same way. hunted. under siege. she had no idea how much he intended to change her life, but she sensed he was dangerous to her. that was the jaguar's instincts, and they were strong in her.

"i want to be in your life, yes. i am not going to deny it. allow yourself to completely merge with me. your answers are there, in my mind."

she pulled her hand away, her heart beating fast. his words were always a temptation. his voice was sinful and filled her with a lust she couldn't seem to control. one she didn't want. "the passageway is suffocating me." her voice was breathless, husky. she wasn't going to merge with him and let him see the images dancing in her head. it would be humiliating.

she turned abruptly and started back to her room. byron stepped out of the history room, allowing the door to slide closed. he kept pace easily with antonietta, his body close to hers, wanting to ease her distress but uncertain just how to do so.

the wide-open rooms were cold after the suffocating heat in the tunnels. antonietta gave a sigh of relief, shivered, and crossed her arms to hide the way her nipples hardened into pebbles, rubbing against the lace of her bra every time she moved. she said nothing when the fire leapt to life, certain byron had misinterpreted her gesture, mistaking her for being cold.

"did you have the handel score copied, antonietta?" byron inquired as he seated himself in his favorite armchair. celt was curled up in her bedroom. he could see the dog through the open door. the borzoi hadn't stirred, not with byron guarding his charge.

antonietta stretched her arms over her head. her body felt heavy and sensitive. she could smell byron's masculine scent and for some reason it called to her. she was too aware of him only feet from her. the interlude in the solarium had been brief and ferocious. and not enough. she paced across the floor, a restless, edgy mood driving her. her breasts felt full and ached for attention. her skin itched for relief. "i did, just to make certain it was never lost. the copy would be worth something for the score alone; it is entirely his original work, nothing borrowed from other composers, but it still would never be worth what notations in his own hand would be."

"could marita have the combination to don giovanni's safe?"

"no, he would never give it to either her or franco. i know

nonno. he is not a trusting man, especially since franco sold information to the demonesini family." the fire crackled. byron shifted, his clothes rustling. antonietta wanted to scream. "do you think the attack on nonno and me the other night had something to do with handel's composition?"

"i would think it likely. it would be too much coincidence for it to be otherwise. those men were searching for something, and they spent a great deal of time in don giovanni's rooms."

byron's voice was killing her. stroking her skin like velvet. like a thousand tongues. she didn't think she could stand it much longer. she tried to force her body under control. she was going to have to send him home and get distance between them. miles would help. oceans maybe. "the opera is not common knowledge, even among family members. franco could have told marita, but i've never heard of him even asking about it. someone must have seen it when i was so insistent on playing it." with restless abandon, she pulled the pins from her hair so that it tumbled down her back, a wild display mirroring her bizarre emotions. "it's hot in here, we shouldn't have a fire."

"come here, antonietta." byron said it softly, but she heard the command in his voice. it set her teeth on edge.

"why? i say it's hot, and you want me to come to you." she paced away from him, wanting to tear at her own skin.

"you are uncomfortable."

antonietta had a mad desire to kneel between byron's legs and work his trousers from his body. her mouth would show him uncomfortable. she imagined how he would feel growing full and hard and thick. at her mercy. she would show him none, not when he was making her feel so out of control and frustrated. she kept the distance of the room between them, wary of what she didn't understand.

"come here to me." he repeated the command, his voice coming between his teeth. soft. imperious. frightening in that she wanted to obey him.

she stood her ground, refused to move. refused to give in to whatever was happening. "what is it? what's wrong with me?" the junction between her legs burned and ached for fulfillment.

byron touched her mind again, a shadow hiding while her mind raged and swirled with erotic images, with a terrible, insatiable hunger. "i suspect it is a combination of things, antonietta. i do not understand why i cannot help you relieve your suffering."

"just tell me what it is."

byron sighed. "carpathians must mate frequently. i have noticed you are very sensitive. i suspect between the carpathian species and the jaguar gene you must carry, you are feeling... er... heat."

"heat?" she whirled around. "i am not an animal in heat. that doesn't make me feel better, thank you very much."

"is the idea of mating with me so terrible?"

"don't twist my words. i didn't say that. if you want to help, distract me." she twisted her fingers together in sudden daring. "i want to see, byron. i want to see through your eyes. you said you could do it, and i want to try."

"are you certain that is what you want? it will not be easy."

she lifted her chin. "i don't care. i want to try it."

"it will be disorienting at first. you'll have to get past your senses and hold on to mine. your own body will fight you. the images will be in your mind. you will see things the way i see them."

"i don't care, as long as i see." there was determination in her voice.

"you will have to merge your mind fully with mine. what i see and feel, you will also. if you are uncomfortable, pull away from my mind. you will have the control to do that. have you noticed that your power and sensitivity to the environment around you is growing?"

"why is that?"

"you are my lifemate. as our lives merge, so do our bodies. i made my claim on you, the ritual binding, and we are tied in heart and soul." his smile was in his voice. "in this modern age, i suppose that sounds melodramatic and old-fashioned."

"not to me." she hesitated, suddenly afraid. "what do i do?"

he went to her, recognizing she was close to tears. the intensity of her sexual need was overwhelming. continually having to adjust the volume of hearing and coping with the separation without understanding why was daunting. he stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and held her to him.

antonietta shivered. "you really can do this?"

he felt the small tremor that ran through her body. "i will be with you. remember, you cannot see through your own eyes. you have to merge completely and see through mine. i can use celt or any person i have a particular bond with to see, even from a distance. we have a strong bond. there is nothing to worry about. i can hold the merge, and you will be able to see."

"i'm not certain i understand, but i want to try." she sounded scared but determined. her hands gripped his. "tell me what to do."

"let yourself reach for me. you know the path. it is the same as making love, merging minds completely. just let it happen."

antonietta forced air through her lungs to calm herself. she was terrified it would work. terrified it wouldn't. very slowly she reached up and removed her dark glasses. her fingertips touched her eyes. she felt him. byron. moving in her mind. looking into places she didn't want anyone to see. she jerked away from him.

"it is all right, bella, i am not looking for incriminating evidence. you are in my head as well. it goes both ways with mutual respect. try again, and this time relax."

antonietta dug her fingers into the back of his hand and let go with her mind. allowed her barriers down to merge. it was a peculiar feeling, not unpleasant, a blending of two personalities. she waited. held her breath. colors shimmered and danced. raw. vibrant. too much so. she cried out and put a hand over her eyes. the colors didn't go away.

"just accept them and let them go."

she tried. her stomach roiled. she could make out something blurry in the distance. byron was focusing on something. she strained backward, pressing against him. but she forced her eyes to stay open. she wasn't certain it was necessary to do so, she could tell the vision came from him, not her, but she wanted to feel as if she were truly seeing. the edges began to clear. her stomach lurched again. everything tilted and spun.

"this isn't right. i don't think i'm doing it right. everything is moving and spinning so fast."

"hold on tight to my hands. anchor yourself. it is not your eyes, antonietta. they are mine. you do not need your fingertips to tell your brain what you are seeing."

something dark danced on the walls. she ducked to avoid it.

"a shadow, the firelight reflected on the wall. you can put your hand through a shadow. concentrate. i am going to narrow our vision to see one thing. celt is lying peacefully beside your bed. i want you to see him."

antonietta fought a very real case of vertigo. she turned her head, and objects burst at her much like rockets. she cried out. "it isn't working." she pressed her hand hard against her churning stomach. "i'm going to be sick."

"no you are not. we can stop if you want." his hands held hers tightly.

"just look at celt. only celt." she was a scarletti. her family never backed away from a challenge. "i can do it."

she focused on the distant, blurry object. the borzoi lifted his head, and everything dipped and spun. she refused to look away. the image began to clear. celt. sprawled next to her bed. he was enormous, black, a noble head. she had no way of judging distances. antonietta flung out her hand, thinking him close enough to touch.

"he is across the room."

"he's beautiful. i want to see your face. show me your face."

he used the small mirror in the vanity, staring at his own face. her hands went to test for h-->>

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