Butterflies inside her stomach and ants crawling up her spine, Mal put the finishing touches on her makeup, then stood back and took a long, hard look at herself. Not bad. For a first attempt. Lipstick, eyeliner and mascara were definitely not her thing. In fact, she'd felt kind of clueless putting it on and had needed to use one of Xavier's computers to look up a tutorial on how to apply makeup without looking like a clown.

She grinned at herself.

Normally, she went all natural. The Hunter look: jeans, tank, boots, clean face, easy and ready to shift into her puma. But tonight, she really wanted to make some heads explode. Well, one head. One very gorgeous, very stubborn head.

She was just finishing up washing her hands when she heard the front door open. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she fumbled with the towel. This was it. The great reveal. Not only had she put on makeup, but her dark hair was brushed to a shine and hung down her back in gentle waves, and the ultra-feminine dress she wore didn't even remotely resemble Hunter gear.

"Honey, I'm home!" Xavier called, the dark humor in his tone obvious. "Where are you? I brought dinner. I'm warming it up." The mild crash of a pot hitting the stovetop rose above the sudden silence. Then, "Aristide said you don't cook, or you can't cook. I can't remember which."

With one last look in the mirror, she released the breath she'd been holding and opened the door to her room. She spotted Xavier right away. He was bent over the kitchen counter, staring at the screen of his computer, something heating up in a pot on the stove, a rugged blue flame shooting off sparks beneath it. She swallowed, smoothed the front of her dress and walked toward him.

"Which one is it?" Xavier called, still staring at the screen. "You can't cook or you don't?"

"Both," she said.

Courage, Female. You hunt bad guys and badass animal prey all damn day, and this male's reaction to your new look is making you sweat?

"But I won't be eating dinner," she added, moving toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Not here anyway."

"What are you talking about, Female?" he asked, tearing his gaze from the screen to look up.

When he did, when he saw her, when his eyes traveled from her shiny hair all the way down to her strappy sandals, a strange sound exited his lips. It was like a cross between a wheeze and a growl, and ended with a ferocious lip curl. She waited for him to say something, move. But he didn't. He just stood there, hands balling into fists, ice blue eyes turning frosty-and his puma vibrating beneath his skin.

Forcing her nerves aside, Mal strode toward him. "Puma got your tongue, Xavier?"

His gaze remained fixed on her as she moved. "What are you wearing?"

"That's the first thing you're saying to me? Seriously."

"Hell yes, seriously," he growled. "Deadly seriously."

She stopped directly in front of him and lifted her chin. "It's a dress, Xavier."

His nostrils flared and she felt his cat's heat radiate off his body. "And why are you wearing a dress?"

"I'm going out."

His lip curled, and he slowly shook his head. "You're not going anywhere. Not like that."

"Like what exactly? Dressed up? Looking hot?"

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"I'll take that as a yes." She grinned, then turned in a slow circle in front of him. "I do look hot, right?"

His jaw was so tight, Mal thought it might shatter into a hundred pieces.

"Doesn't matter, Amalie," he said icily. "You're not going out. Not like that, and not alone."

She looked up at him through her lashes. Her curled and painted lashes. "I'm not going alone."

This time, he moved. Closed the distance between them in one stride. He was so tall, so broad. Fearsome and sexy. Why couldn't he just lift her up and plant a killer kiss on her eager lips? He was so goddamn frustrating. "I have a date."

"No." He said the single word without heat.

She cocked her head to the side and chewed her lower lip. "I'm not asking permission."

"Good, because you're not getting it."

Her gaze flickered past him, to the stove-to the raging blue flame. Something caught her eye; something bubbling out of control. "Your sauce, or whatever it is you're making, is burning."

Cursing, Xavier whirled around and rushed to the stovetop. Without thinking, he grabbed the handle of the pot, then cursed again when the metal burned his hand. He tossed the pot into the sink and slammed on the water.

Forgetting the irritation-slash-flirtation from a moment ago, Mal hurried to the sink and to his side. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he growled, fisting his hand.

"Let me see it."

"It's nothing."

She grabbed his hand and forced his fingers open. "Stop being a stubborn ass." Angry red welts decorated his palm. "Let's get some cool water on it."

He didn't fight when she guided his hand under the faucet, but hissed when the water met his skin.

"You're mothering me, Amalie," he said on a growl. "I don't need it."

She looked up at him, met those crystal blue eyes that always made her weak. "Welcome to my world, Friend."

He snarled gently. "Last thing I'm trying to do is mother you."

"Then what is it? This thing you're doing with me?"

His nostrils flared as he stared down at her, and once again, she felt heat roll off him. Why couldn't he say it, she thought angrily. Why couldn't he admit there was something inside him that wanted to reach out and touch her?

"I could make this cub go away, Amalie," he said, his eyes on her mouth now.

"He's not a cub. He's a grown male, a Hunter."

"Doesn't matter."

"Matters to me, Xavier. I deserve to celebrate this holiday like all the other Pantera. Maybe even more so, being the final birth."

That silenced him.

At least until the knock on the door.

His head came up, his eyes narrowed and he growled with unabashed antagonism.

"Okay, no." Amalie dropped his hand, which was already starting to heal, and pointed a finger at him. "You're not going to interrogate him or threaten him or whatever."

His eyes still pinned on the door, Xavier gave her a lazy shrug. "If he's a true Pantera male he won't have a problem with that."

She gave him a warning glare before hurrying to the door. As she opened it, she felt him come up behind her. Damned puma. Damned mother hen.

Standing on the porch in a pair of black jeans and a white dress shirt, looking far handsomer than she'd ever seen him, Hiss grinned at her. "Wow."

Mal grinned back. "Hey, Hiss."

His gray eyes moved over her. "You look beautiful, Hunter."

"Yes, she does," Xavier said, moving out from behind to stand beside her.

Mal rolled her eyes. "You know Xavier."

Hiss tore his gaze from Mal and acknowledged Xavier with a nod. "How's it going, X?"

"Great. You?"

"Fantastic. You going to the festival?"

Mal answered before Xavier had a chance. "No. He has to work."

Shrugging, grinning, Hiss said, "Too bad," then turned back to Mal. "Ready? Because that moon is turning violet as we stand here."

She nodded, then stepped out onto the porch. "Have a nice night, Xavier."

As they walked down the path, Mal glanced back over her shoulder. She probably shouldn't have, but as usual she couldn't stop herself when it came to looking at the gorgeous Geek. Her heart trembled with what she saw. Cast in the dark lavender light of the Pantera moon, Xavier looked severe and sexy. And ominous. And hungry. He was standing in the doorway, his massive frame barely allowing the light inside the house to peek through, his piercing blue eyes trained on her. Vehemence fairly radiated from him. As she turned and headed for town with Hiss, she prayed that envy was the emotion that sparked that look. And if it was, that Xavier might finally do something about it.

* * *

He was an idiot.

But it couldn't be helped.

The air circulating within the Wildlands was ripe and heady with the scent of purple water lily. A strange, yet addictive aroma. The Pantera's birth lily-the first flower to grow on their new land back when Opela created them-was purported to have a magical property that infused the Pantera in happiness, warmth and, for those who were mated or wished to be, a sensual euphoria.

Fine for most, Xavier mused, heading down the shop-lined street toward the center of town. But not the type of magic he wanted his wild little kitten exposed to.

Not unsupervised at any rate.

After she'd left, side by side with the Hunter, Xavier had gotten a call from Robby. The Geek had found a couple of interesting instant messages on Isi's store computer. At first, they'd reminded Xavier of poetry. But after several listens, he'd recognized the strange collection of words as protection spells, and had given Robby the go-ahead to follow that IM trail.

I should be working the keyboard too, he thought darkly. Not tracking and spying. Hanging out in the shadows of one of the town's many produce stands, scanning the Pantera's merriment for Amalie, making sure she acted sane-and that her Hunter male escort acted like a gentleman.

Deep in the shadows of the empty stand, Xavier let his gaze travel over the square. Given the limited amount of prep time, the Pantera had created quite a spectacle. Purple and lavender flowers and ribbons were everywhere, on tables, strung from tree to tree. In one corner, a Cajun band-five Suits who had played last year-was kicking up some fine, foot-stomping music. And warring with the scent of water lily, some of the species' best cooks were working over open flames, creating culinary magic and sending it out to the masses who were at tables, both long and intimate, around the wood floor that had been laid out for dancing. As usual, the food was being served family-style, passed around from table to table. Xavier's belly growled as he scented rich gumbos and crawfish, meat pies, vegetables, bread pudding and fruit. When he spotted his favorite, alligator sausage, he nearly howled.

But it was the sound of laughter-a female's laughter-over the din that made that sound truly exit his lips.

His eyes scanned the square, the diners, dancers, even a small group of shifted Pantera, who were sport fighting a yard or two away from the band. Where are you, Female? I hear your laughter. He didn't like that the male Hunter had caused such a reaction in her-had caused that beautiful face to break into the most infectious fucking smile in the world. No one should be making her laugh. No one, but-

Before he could finish with 'but me' the music changed. From rocking bluegrass to a slow, Cajun waltz. As if the calming sound brought on another level of clarity to his vision, Xavier turned to see the pair at one of the small tables set apart from the others. They were standing up, their plates cleaned, and were heading for the dance floor. His hand clasping hers, the Hunter male led Amalie into the small crowd of couples and took her in his arms.

Xavier's body went rigid.

Sure, she deserved this night. And yes, she should have some fun. But why did it have to be with this male? This male who seemed like a decent guy, not like that slobbering dog back at The Cougar's Den. This male who acted respectful, and looked at her like he genuinely wanted to pursue something after tonight.

Amalie could actually like this male, he thought with a twist to his gut.

Shit, Aristide could like this male.

Without weighing the rights or wrongs of his actions, Xavier abandoned the shadows of the produce stand and headed toward the dance floor. He didn't want to be a prick. Didn't want to be a pushy bastard who claimed something he had no right to claim. But the desire to take Amalie from Hiss's arms was too strong to fight against.

Eyes pinned to them, Xavier moved easily and swiftly through the crowd. The song ended, and Hiss and Amalie were just stopping to clap when Xavier came up beside them.

"Mind if I cut in?" he said in the most forced polite voice in the world.

With a soft gasp, Amalie turned to look at him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head as if to say, 'Are you crazy?' He probably was, but he couldn't stop himself.

Hiss, however, grinned broadly. "Good to see you here, X. No one should be working tonight." Then he turned to Amalie. "I'll get us a couple of drinks, okay?"

"Thanks, Hiss," she said sweetly. But the moment the Hunter was out of earshot, she whirled on Xavier and spat out, "What are you doing here? Spying on me?"

"Yes."

She looked momentarily stunned by his honesty.

His eyes moved over her face and he closed the distance between them. "You look beautiful tonight." His arms went around her, and he started to move to the music. "Hot."

All the tension left her body and her face split into the most incredible smile he'd ever seen. "Thank you."

One dark eyebrow lifted as he amended, "Too hot."

Her mouth quirked. "Bastard."

He smiled and eased her closer. Her warm, soft skin beneath his palms, her gentle weight. She felt like heaven in his arms. And the scent of her mixed with the scent of purple water lily was acting like a drug on his control. Xavier's skin hummed with awareness, and in that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to pull her away from the crowd, ease her into the shadows where he'd once stood looking for her, and remove her pretty dress with his teeth.

Blood surged into his cock, making him hard.

No. Fuck, no. His mind was playing tricks. He couldn't have her. Not tonight. Not any night. But then again, neither could Hiss. He couldn't allow that either. No matter how nice and respectful the male was, no one else was going to touch her. He wouldn't allow it. Neither would his puma. A growl formed in his throat. The water lily's scent was capturing him, surely. What else could be the reason for these possessive thoughts?

"Come with me," he ordered, taking her by the hand and leading her off the dance floor.

"Talk about deja vu," she said dryly. "Where are you going, Xavier? Hiss is coming back."

Ignoring her question, Xavier eased her into the shadows of the produce stand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hiss, drinks in hand, searching the dance floor.

She isn't yours. Not now. Never ever.

Curling her around him, pressing her back to the faded-white walls of the stand, Xavier coiled over her and inhaled deeply.

Amalie stared up at him, her breathing labored. "What's wrong with you?"

Wrong? He nearly laughed. Shit, he was out of his mind. Drugged. Had to be. "I want to leave."

Irritation flashed in her green eyes and she made a move to get past him. "Then go."

But he placed a hand on either side of her and shook his head. "I want you to come with me."

She shook her head. "No."

"You got your touch," he whispered. "Your flirting. Your date."

"It's not enough. It's nothing. I want more."

A snarl escaped his throat and he leaned in close to her face, almost until they were nose to nose. "That Hunter touches you again and I'll hurt him."

Amalie growled at him and tried to back up, but there was nothing but wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm protecting you."

"From what? From Hiss? He's a good male."

"Don't say that."

"Then from what? Being held? Kissed? Those are normal things, Xavier."

His puma scratched to break free, and he nuzzled her nose with his own. "Dammit, Amalie."

"Come on, Xavier. Don't do this to me," she uttered, her tone pained. "Don't hold me, block me. It's not fair. Especially coming from you. Do you really expect me to go through life alone? Without being kissed? Staying a virgin-"

She never finished her thought. The word-no, the image-drove Xavier and his puma over the fucking edge. With a snarl of possession, he slid his thigh between her legs and covered her mouth with his own, kissing her long and hard and deep.

Oh, fuck, the taste.

Xavier's mind exploded into tiny fragments of desire. The taste of her was beyond what he'd ever imagined. Sweet and hot and liquid, and hungry. Fuck, so hungry. And he wanted to consume her. Fill his body with hers.

Her arms went around his neck and she moaned into his mouth. The sound went straight to his dick, and he nipped at her, suckled her lower lip, then kissed her passionately once again. Oh Christ, this was it. She was perfect. His perfect. The way she moved, touched him, molded to him-wanted him. He'd never be able to go back from here. He'd felt her and tasted her now. Her heat and her desire belonged to him. How could he ever let another soul get close to her again?

And then her hands moved down to his shoulders and his back, her nails digging into his skin as her teeth bit at his tongue, and he lost all control. All that remained in the darkness, in the shadows, were two desperate, ravenous puma shifters. Groaning her name, Xavier crushed her against him, ravaged her mouth, pressed his thigh up harder against her sex, feeling the wet heat of her pussy. He wanted inside her, belonged inside her. He wanted to take her-lift up her dress, rip off her panties and fuck her right there. He didn't care who saw them. In fact, in that moment, he wanted spectators. Wanted every last Pantera male to know who Amalie belonged to.

The thought killed him. Stopped him.

As did the look in her drowsy, sex-hazed eyes when he eased back from her.

"Shit," he whispered so close to her mouth their breath co-mingled.

She swallowed, her eyes trying to focus. "Xavier."

His name on her lips had Xavier's cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. His eyes cut left, past her ear. Hiss was still searching, irritation and concern playing about his features. "I'm so sorry, Amalie."

"Don't say that," she warned.

"Oh, fuck, this was a mistake."

"Or that."

He wanted to let her go, release her, but he couldn't make himself do it. Though Hiss hadn't seen them yet, he was drawing closer to where they hid. A low, terrifying growl erupted from Xavier's throat, and he knew that if the Hunter male got within a foot of Amalie right now, he might actually attack, maybe even kill him. He was that jacked up-that proprietary. His puma snarled and ripped at his insides, and to save himself, and possibly the Hunter male as well, he allowed it to break free.

He stumbled back, away from Amalie, and shifted into his cat.

"Xavier," she said, her voice threaded with heat.

He looked at her for one brief moment, saw her anger and hurt, and enduring lust, and let his puma snarl and hiss before turning and stalking away. From the party, the food, the music, the sexually-charged atmosphere.

And from the female he could never taste again-no matter how desperately he wanted her.