Sara didn’t have time to appreciate the finer points of waking up next to a handsome man because she awoke to find the big black cat staring back at her with its huge yellow eyes. “I suppose you’re hungry. Guess I’d better feed you something before you decide to eat me, huh?”
She had no idea what Jerden had been feeding the leopard, but it must’ve been enough because, despite the fact that some of the local cattle breeders had reported calves being killed, Sara had never lost a single foal. It must not have bothered his collection of cats and dogs, either. Unfortunately, Sara didn’t have enough raw meat in the house to keep a cat that size happy for long.
Lynx had been delivering supplies to Jerden for some time now, so he would probably know what Jerden fed the big cat—that is, if she could get to her comlink to call him. After assuring herself that Jerden still had a pulse, she inched her way out from under the covers on the opposite side of the bed. Unfortunately, the cat was between her and the door. She reminded herself that the leopard hadn’t tried to attack her the night before, though it had growled at her.
Don’t act like a prey animal, Sara. The cat’s gaze never wavered as she drew herself up and walked purposefully around the end of the bed. “Just sit still. I’ll be right back.”
The leopard replied with a yawn, which Sara took as a good sign. She made it to the comlink unscathed, but it was Bonnie’s daughter, Ulla, who answered the call. “Mom and Dad are out working,” she reported. “I’m fixing breakfast for the little ones.”
Which was quite a job, seeing as how Bonnie and Lynx had seven children. At eleven, Shaulla was the eldest, with two younger sets of triplets, aged four and nine. “I’ve got a similar problem. Any idea what Jerden has been feeding his leopard?”
“Cat food,” Ulla replied promptly.
“Really? How many tons does it eat in a week?”
Ulla shrugged. “I don’t know, but he gives her a big bowl full of it at least once a day. I’ve seen him do it.”
“Wait a minute. You’ve seen him?”
“Yeah. He gives her fresh meat sometimes too.”
Sara scratched her head. Apparently Ulla had been over to Jerden’s place more than she would’ve thought. “Do you mean to say you’ve been visiting him? He doesn’t strike me as the type to want company.”
Ulla grinned, her Vessonian forehead ridges crinkling as she brushed back a lock of long, blond hair from her face. “I never said he knew I was there.”
“Ah. Sneaky little woman, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” Ulla said, laughing. “Can’t help it. It’s the Treslanti in me.” Her expression sobered. “I know I should’ve told Mom about the horse sooner, but I liked watching him ride it too much.”
“Well, I certainly can’t blame you for that. It’s pretty amazing.”
“Wish I could ride like he does,” Ulla said wistfully.
“You’re improving,” Sara said. “Speaking of which, I still haven’t gotten word on the Welsh ponies. Guess you’ll just have to keep taking your riding lessons on Akira. The way things are going, by the time those ponies get here, you’ll have outgrown them.”
Ulla nodded. “The older trips can still ride them, though. Brie and Jean are dying to have their own ponies. Trent’s more into speeders.”
“Typical boy,” Sara agreed.
“Who is that?” One of the younger girls climbed up beside Ulla and stuck her face right up against the viewscreen. A huge smile revealed her fangs as she waved excitedly. “Hi, Sara!”
“Hello, Karsyn,” Sara said, waving back. “Are you being a good girl?”
Karsyn made a face as Ulla tugged her ponytail. With her white-blond hair and Zetithian features, Karsyn looked like a cross between an elf and a Persian kitten. Folding her arms, she gave Sara a firm nod. “Yes, I’m good.”
“Oh, she’s good, all right.” Ulla snickered. “You should have seen her dance recital last night. She was the star of the show. Danced all over the stage. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to do that.”
“See my shoes?” Karsyn asked, holding up a ballet-slippered foot.
“Yes, and they’re quite lovely,” Sara replied.
“I’m a great dancer,” Karsyn confided. “Daddy says I’m the best Zetithian ballerina in the whole world!”
Ulla rolled her eyes. “More like the only Zetithian ballerina in the world.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Karsyn insisted. “I’m still the best.”
Ulla lifted Karsyn from the table and shooed her away. “You never did say why you’re feeding Jerden’s leopard.”
“No, I didn’t.” Sara gave Ulla a brief rundown of the events of the previous night. “Vladen says he’ll be okay, but I’m not convinced. Anyway, the leopard was with him, and now it’s sitting there next to the bed looking really hungry. I’ve never had to feed a carnivore of that size before, and I’ll admit I’m a little unnerved by it.” The leopard wasn’t the only reason she felt nervous, but Sara didn’t think it was a good idea to mention the part about having slept next to a naked Zetithian man, no matter how mature for her age Ulla might be.
“She’s very tame,” Ulla said. “I’ve never seen her chase his other pets, and she’s never come after me, either. Jerden calls her Cria.”
“Thanks. That helps a lot, though I may have to make a run over to his place to get more food. I doubt if I have enough here for more than a snack. I probably ought to feed the rest of his menagerie while I’m there.”
“I can do it,” Ulla offered. “I’ll go over there before my riding lesson. They, um, sort of know me.”
Sara chuckled. “Even when you aren’t invisible?”
“Even then,” Ulla replied. “Before he had the horse, Jerden went out running a lot. I’d watch him leave and then play with the dogs for a while. I don’t think he realizes it, but I also clean his house sometimes.”
“Does your mother know you’re doing that? She didn’t say a word to me about it. In fact, she said she should encourage you kids to pester him more.”
Ulla’s gaze faltered slightly. “Well… not exactly. I mean, she knows I’ve been over there some. She was kinda worried about him at first and said someone ought to check on him every day. Since I can disappear, I knew I could do it without him knowing. He’s always seemed okay to me, and I probably don’t need to go there anymore, but—well, maybe I do. You say he’s sick?”
Sara blew out a pent-up breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he was definitely feverish and now he’s unconscious. Of course, you probably know all about how sick Zetithians behave.”
“Yeah. They just conk out for a while. It’s usually only for a couple of hours, but sometimes it’s a couple of days. You get used to it eventually.”
Sara wasn’t so sure about that. Going into a coma whenever you caught the flu seemed a bit excessive. Still, it had suffering through chills and fever while you were awake beaten hands down.
After thanking Ulla for her help, she terminated the link and went back to the bedroom with a mixing bowl full of the dry food she normally fed to her own cats. Jerden still hadn’t moved and neither had the leopard. She shook the bowl enticingly. “Here you go, Cria. Want to eat this outside?”
The big cat ignored her. Sara was about to call her again, but somehow saying “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty” seemed a little ridiculous. Stepping closer, she set down the bowl. Cria gave it a brief sniff and looked away.
“I sure hope you’re housebroken,” Sara muttered. “I do not want to have to clean up after you.”
Cria got up suddenly, but instead of eating anything, she simply stalked around to the other side of the bed and leaped onto it. Settling down next to Jerden, she began licking his arm.
“Oh, great.” Sara had her cats conditioned to stop what they were doing whenever she snapped her fingers. She doubted Cria would respond the same way, but figured it was worth a try.
Cria ignored that, too.
The use of force was out of the question, but how did anyone get a leopard off their bed that clearly wanted to stay put?
“You don’t,” she muttered, answering her own question. “Well, the food’s here if you want it, Cria. Guess I’ll have to leave a door open so you can get out if you want. Something tells me the litter box in the bathroom would be woefully inadequate.”
Not wanting the cat to think she was on the run, she left the room with careful nonchalance and went out to the kitchen. When she opened the back door, Jerden’s other pets—at least a dozen cats and dogs—marched inside.
“What the hell?” Her next thought was that Ulla would be wasting her time going over to Jerden’s place to feed them. “Guess I’d better call her back,” she said as the entire menagerie trotted by, a tiny Yorkshire terrier leading the way.
When the last cat—a long-haired, bobtailed calico—had entered, Sara followed them to the bedroom, only to stop at the threshold in stunned silence.
Vladen might have called each of the animals and told them the same thing he’d told her. The cats were already settling themselves on top of Jerden and the dogs were curled up all around him, except where Cria lay stretched out next to his left side. Sara was about to protest this invasion when she heard a soft nicker outside the window.
Stepping carefully around the bed, she rolled up the shade to find Danuban staring back at her. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”
The stallion snorted and tossed his head.
“You are not coming in my house!”
Danuban nudged the glass. Rolling her eyes, Sara unlatched the casement and allowed it to swing open. The big horse was tall enough that his head fit perfectly through the window and his subsequent neigh could’ve awakened the dead. Jerden didn’t move a muscle.
“Okay, I give up.” Shaking her head, she gave Danuban a pat on the nose and then went out to the kitchen to fix breakfast for the crew. “Just hope he doesn’t start drawing enocks.” Bonnie and Lynx might’ve made a lot of money raising the large, flightless birds, but though their eggs were delicious, the birds themselves were extremely vicious. Having a horse in the house was infinitely preferable.
She was whipping up a batch of pancake batter when Drania came in. “So how’s Jerden this morning?”
Sara nodded toward the bedroom. “See for yourself.”
Drania followed Sara’s nod, moving with her odd, chimp-like gait. Sara gave it a few moments and followed, still stirring the batter. If she’d thought the animals draped all over Jerden would have freaked the Rutaran out, she’d have been wrong. Drania was standing next to the bed, combing her long fingers through his hair.
She glanced up as Sara entered. “Even zoned out, he is one fine hunk of a man.”
Cria let out a loud purr, almost as though voicing her agreement while Drania resumed gazing at him, tracing the line of his brow with her fingertips.
“Yes, I suppose he is.”
Drania sighed and turned away from him. “It’s not fair. Here you’ve got something like that in your bed, and that’s the best you can say about him?”
Sara shrugged. “I can’t help it. I mean, I can see that he’s a perfect specimen, but…” She stopped there, shaking her head. “He does smell nice, and his hair is beautiful, but I—”
“Don’t like men, do you?”
The pang near her heart almost made her gasp, but she managed to control her reaction. “It’s not that, I just—”
“Prefer women?”
“No.” Sara didn’t know what to say, or even how to explain it. Throwing the mixing bowl across the room seemed a more viable option. She controlled that impulse, too. “I—never mind. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She turned and went back to the kitchen.
No, it didn’t matter.
So, why am I feeling like this?
Sara couldn’t explain that, either. Her vision clouded with tears as she poured the batter onto the griddle. Thankfully, this was an action she could perform in her sleep. Her stable hands always wanted pancakes—never eggs or bacon or toast or cereal—and with enough syrup to drown a rat. At least they all like the same things.
Zatlen and Reutal came in just as she was setting the last plate on the table.
Reutal took a seat and inhaled deeply. “Ah! Smells wonderful.” He glanced toward the bedroom. “Is the cat coming to breakfast?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Which one? There must be at least six of them.”
“Eight if you include Jerden,” Drania said as she climbed onto a chair.
“He’s the one I meant,” Reutal said with a snicker. “Have a nice time with him last night, Sara?”
“He’s still asleep,” Drania said. Her tone was neutral, but her expression was wickedly suggestive.
The Norludian licked his lips lasciviously. “Ah, wore him out, did you?”
“He’s asleep,” Sara said firmly. “As in comatose—or whatever you call it when a Zetithian conks out like that.”
Reutal grinned. “Sure he is. That’s what they all say.”
“It must’ve taken you all night to come up with that one.” Sara had never given Reutal many opportunities to needle her on sexual matters before. If that was the best he could do, he was clearly out of practice. “Just because he’s in my bed doesn’t mean I did anything with him besides sleep.”
Reutal shrugged and picked up the syrup bottle. “Your loss.”
Sara stared at the syrup cascading over his stack of pancakes as she tried to sort out exactly what he’d meant by that remark. Was he actually encouraging her to… consort with Jerden?
After dabbing a suckered fingertip in the sticky sweetness, he licked his finger. “Just one taste of his syrup will give you the best orgasm of your life.”
If Jerden gave her any kind of orgasm at all, it would be the best, by virtue of the fact that it would be the first. She couldn’t very well admit that to Reutal, however. He’d never let that subject drop. “So I’ve heard.” She was about to move on to the plans for the day when Reutal opened his mouth to speak. It was time to set him straight. “I’ve also heard that he’s still mourning that Audrey woman’s death. He’s not going to respond to anyone—at least, not for a while.”
Reutal picked up a bowl of blueberries and sprinkled them on top of the syrupy mess on his plate. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then, doesn’t it?”
“I believe I’ll leave that job for someone else.”
Reutal nodded at Drania. “She’d probably be happy to help, except I’m not sure she’s his type.”
“I’m not his type, either,” Sara said bluntly. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Yeah,” Zatlen said, “like who’s going to help me build up the fence around Danuban’s paddock?”
Reutal snorted a laugh. “Can’t keep him away from the cat, can you?”
The conversation had come right back to Jerden. That didn’t take long… “I’m thinking it might be easier to leave him loose. With Jerden here, it’s not like he’s going to run off.” She paused, grimacing. “He’s probably already trampled my roses. I’m almost afraid to look.”
The main rose bed wasn’t directly beneath her window, but it was relatively close, and some of her oldest varieties were planted near the foundation. Destroying her roses was the one transgression that would be difficult to forgive. Horses may have been her livelihood and her passion, but roses kept her sane. Something about their scent and the way they responded to her care by producing such beauty affected her in a way that nothing else ever had. Gazing into the depths of a bloom while inhaling the intoxicating fragrance seemed to empty her mind, quieting the background noise of continuous thinking.
“I doubt it,” said Zatlen. “Too many thorns. He’d avoid them.” His words were dismissive, yet they contained a note of compassion.
Sara had seen the Tryosian sniffing the blossoms more than once, though whether they appealed to his masculine side or to his more feminine nature, she couldn’t have said. Maybe it didn’t matter. Either way, roses were good for the soul. “I sure hope you’re right. I’ve got some varieties that would be tough to replace.”
“I’d be more worried about what all of his animals are doing to your bed,” Reutal said. “You’ll have fleas all over the place.”
“I know.” Sara wasn’t sure she ever wanted to sleep in that bed again. The couch was sounding better all the time. If she slept there, at least Reutal couldn’t accuse her of messing around with Jerden while he was unconscious. “Vladen said something about treating the leopard for fleas. I’m just not sure I want to be the one to do it. Ulla seems to know Jerden’s pets pretty well. Maybe she can do it. Speaking of which, I need to call her back.”
The call proved unnecessary, however, for Ulla arrived just as Sara was finishing the after-breakfast cleanup and the others were heading out the door.
“Thought I’d come here first,” she said. “How is he?”
“Still out,” Sara replied.
“Still gorgeous,” Drania added with a sigh. “I hope he never leaves.”
Ulla snickered. “Don’t you have a boyfriend in Nimbaza?”
Drania’s ears twitched. “So what if I do? I’m not blind and I’m not dead. If you’d seen him come riding into the barn…”
“Ulla has seen him ride,” Sara admonished. “Though she probably shouldn’t have.” She paused, wiping her wet hands on a towel. “I was about to call you, Ulla. Jerden’s pets followed him here, and even that dratted stallion has his head stuck in the window. Don’t suppose you’d care to check the leopard for fleas, would you?”
“I could,” Ulla replied. “But I bet I won’t find any. Jerden takes really good care of his animals. I’ve seen him brushing them. Sometimes he’s at it for hours.”
Sara couldn’t help but feel relieved. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”
Reutal’s eyes danced with mischief. “Yes, and you can climb right in with him tonight without a care in the world.”
“Ha! Not with that leopard in there. It was bad enough with her sleeping on the floor last night. There won’t be room for me. We should probably turn him, though. Want to give me a hand, Ulla?”
“Sure.”
“The rest of you can head on out to the barn. I’ll be there in a little bit.”
Ulla followed Sara into the bedroom. Danuban no longer had his head in the window, but was grazing in the yard nearby. Cria had shifted slightly, almost as though making room for them to turn Jerden. “If we can get these cats off him, it shouldn’t be too hard. He’s like a wet rag.”
“Funny how they do that, isn’t it?” Ulla asked. “It’s really scary when they’re babies. You think they’re dead, but they aren’t.”
Sara nodded. “Yeah, that would be scary. They’re completely helpless, too. It’s a very odd trait—but useful, I suppose.”
Though Sara probably could’ve done it alone, she was glad Ulla was with her. The animals seemed to know her, except for the little terrier that barked in protest the moment they began.
“I’ve never seen that little yappy dog before,” Ulla said. “What is it, anyway? It looks like a rat.”
“She’s a Yorkie,” Sara replied with a chuckle. “You sound just like my father. He never could stand those little lap dogs.”
“Doesn’t seem like Jerden’s type, either. Somehow I can’t see her running up the mountainside with him.”
“Probably not.” Sara gathered up Jerden’s hair and spread it out on the pillow. “How do they ever keep this long, curly hair from getting all matted up?”
Ulla smiled. “Mom loves combing Dad’s hair. She likes the way it makes him purr.”
Sara let that remark pass. It seemed too… intimate, aside from the fact that it didn’t answer her question. “At least he isn’t tossing and turning all the time. With him lying so still, it should stay fairly neat.”
“If it doesn’t, you just have to start at the ends and work your way up.”
“Like combing a horse’s tail?”
Ulla nodded.
“Speaking of horses, you need to go get Akira saddled for your lesson.”
“Sure thing,” Ulla said brightly. “Let me know if you need any help with this lot.” She gave the Yorkie a pat on the head and left, closing the door behind her.
Shaking her head, Sara glanced around what had once been her bedroom—a room that had become a zoo overnight. Every one of the cats and dogs was gazing at her, their eyes steady and calm, almost as if they had a message to convey.
This, too, shall pass…
Sara didn’t doubt that for a moment. As she smoothed the covers over Jerden’s shoulder, the warmth of his body crept into her psyche, creating waves of contentment. The leopard seemed to sense something similar, yawning as she lounged onto her back, licking her paw in a languid manner. The Yorkie curled up in the bend of Jerden’s knee, and the calico cat sat perched like a sentinel on his hip. Her own bobtailed cats, Kate and Allie, were nestled between Jerden and Cria. “You traitors,” she muttered. The rest of the menagerie surrounded him, pinning him beneath the blankets. He couldn’t have fallen out of bed if he tried.
With a reluctant sigh, Sara propped the back door open when she left for the stable. Allowing animals—and probably a lot of insects—to come and go from her house at will went against her better judgment, but she couldn’t see that she had much choice. Nevertheless, she had a sneaking suspicion that a house full of fleas would turn out to be the least of her worries.