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"That's what I came here tonight to find out."
His hand tightened, then slowly slid away. A sec-
ond later she felt Its pressure on her stomach, his
blunt, scarred fingers Incredibly adept as they eased
her panties down to her thighs, hardly brushing her
skin, setting off storms of sensation when they did.
Kat bit her lip to keep from shifting in blissful
agony as his hand touched her stomach again. This
time there was the seductive whisper of cotton on
her skin as he lifted her T-shirt, then the breath of
night air scattering goose bumps on her bare stom-
ach and breasts.
For a moment he stopped touching her at all, and
it took considerable willpower for her not to reach
for him. Then his fingertips surrounded her nipples
with wetness from his mouth.
The combination was fire and ice as he rubbed
them just the tips, very slowly and very lightly
into peaks so hard they barely flexed under his caress.
"This woman is of the blue clan," he whispered.
"Her name is Katlanicha. I am adopted of the deer
clan, my name is Tahchee. Draw near to listen. Our
souls have come together. I am da-nttaka, standing
in her soul. She can never look away."
His fingers left her and she inhaled weakly, the
sound a plea. A moment later, wet again, they slid
between her thighs. He stroked the sleek skin and
whispered over her soft cries, "Your body, I take it.
Your flesh, I take it. Your heart, I take it."
He said those words again and again, a soft, gut-
tural chant in rhythm with the movement of his
fingers until sensation and sound mingled with the
roaring in her ears and she heard nothing, knew
nothing except waves of pleasure that made her body
strain to follow the crests.
In the slow collapsing afterward, she heard him
say, his voice tormented with restraint, "I am da-
nltaka, standing in her soul. I have always been
there. I will always be there. It was decided long
ago."
Kat was still fighting for breath, her head lolled to
one side on the pillow, feeling the dampness of her
perspiration, when he rose off the bed. She turned
her face to search for him hopelessly in the dark-
ness, then sensed him and lay still, poised for what-
ever he did next, whatever he asked, anything.
His mouth brushed hers, his mustache tickling
her upper lip as he drew away. Kat waited, too limp
to move, every ounce of her energy tuned to him.
When he unlocked the door, slipped out, and locked
it behind him, she exhaled so long and slow that her
body seemed to melt into the bed.
Spellbound, she fell asleep just as he had left her.
When morning came she found a note from him
on the bedside table. It told her what she had to do
that day, and she wondered sadly if this was only
the beginning of the requests she would not like.
Nine
Nathan certainly liked to stay on top of his job. In
fact he lived on top of it in a penthouse complex
with a Jacuzzi, a sun deck, rooms full of native
artwork from all over the world, a master bedroom
that rivaled something from a Moroccan fantasy,
and a huge garden room that looked toward the
cityscape of Atlanta.
No, it wasn't a garden room, Kat corrected herself
as she stood in the midst of vine-draped tropical
trees, it was a jungle room.
"Do you have everything you need?" Nathan's ad-
ministrative assistant inquired politely, in a lyrical
accent the Jamaican tourist bureau ought to hire.
Kat turned toward the young man, studied his
jeans, sports shirt, and dreadlocks, then concluded
that maybe she wouldn't feel out of place in Na-
than's mixed-up business/fantasy world.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for carrying my duffel bag
up."
"No problem." He handed her an envelope. "Key to
the private elevator, key to the apartment door, a
note with my phone extension downstairs. You're
welcome to a tour of the company anytime. Just
come on down."
"Thanks." No way, Kat added silently. The last
thing she wanted was to be the prime source of
gossip on five floors of Auraria, Inc.
After the assistant left she wandered around the
huge apartment, listening to the lonely squeak of
her Reeboks on polished slate, parquet, and hand-
made Spanish tiles, her hands sunk in her jeans
pockets because she was afraid to touch anything.
Not that Nathan's place looked formal no, it was
warm, exotic, inviting but it was so damned ex-
pensive. His note hadn't warned her. It merely had
told her to go to Atlanta, move into the apartment,
and make herself at home.
Well, sure, but she'd never lived in a Native Peo-
ples exhibit before.
Kat went into his bedroom and stared at rich wall
hangings, rugs so deep she could get lost in them,
and a big bed filled with fringed pillows and cano-
pied in dark silks. If she tried to describe this room
to anyone it'd either sound silly or self-indulgent,
but it wasn't. It was incredibly masculine in a way
that made her think of incense mingling with the
erotic scent of seduction, of low-burning lamplight
glistening on naked skin.
She sat down on the bed and burst into tears. It
was a perfect place for a slave girl to please her
master.
Where the hell was Nathan? she thought with
unslavelike rudeness, wiping her eyes. He hadn't
even said when he planned to follow her here, or
even if he would follow. She still ached inside from
telling her cousins a lie. They thought she was back
On the wrestling tour, doing ringside commentary
until her ankle healed completely.
Fifteen minutes later the phone rang. Kat sidled
up to a heavily carved bedside table and gazed warily
at the black phone sitting there. It looked ordinary.
Well, at least she could touch this safely.
"Hi."
"Ms. Gallatin, I'm Cassandra, from Neiman-Marcus."
"Okay."
"Are you ready to go? I have a limousine waiting."
"Go where?"
"Shopping."
"I don't shop."
"Uhmm, Mr. Chatham says" Kat heard the Cas-
sandra person rattling a piece of paper "he says
you're to spend at least three thousand dollars be-
fore the store closes this evening."
Kat sat down weakly and hugged a fringed pillow.
"Oh. How many hours have we got?"
"Five."
That was six hundred bucks an hour. She'd
have to stand in the middle of the store and give
away cash.
"I can't," she whispered.
"Mr. Chatham said you wouldn't have any prob-
lem with the plan."
"Oh." This was an order from Nathan, then. A
really odd kind of order. Was this another example
of the stuff she was supposed to do whether she
liked it or not?
Kat sighed. "I'll be right down."
As soon as I get over being shocked.
This was Nathan's guilt at work. He had a lot of
regrets where she was concerned, because of the
Blue Song land, and maybe his kindness was moti-
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