on fire. She closed her eyes when his hands dropped to the front of her jeans.
"I'm not beautiful," she managed to warn him, hoping that if she said it first, he wouldn't be too disappointed.
His hands stopped. "Solange."
She winced. His voice was stern. Still pitched low, but very stern.
"Look at me."
She wanted to look anywhere but at him, but she couldn't stop herself from raising her eyes to his. It was pure compulsion. Her entire being crumpled at the displeasure plain on his face.
"This is a very important rule, Solange. My lifemate is the most beautiful woman on this earth to me. Anyone who says differently insults her, which is a capital offense and insults me. I do not think you want to do that, do you?"
She shook her head. To her horror tears burned behind her eyes. She could not do this. She hated disappointing him, but what would be worse? Letting him discover on his own, or trying to tell him? "I was trying to be honest."
His hand cupped the side of her face, his gentleness nearly her undoing. His thumb caressed her cheek and jaw. " Kessake--my little cat. Do not look so distressed. When a man has waited a thousand years for the one woman who is his alone, she is the very definition of beauty to him. What others see cannot matter. Only what I see matters. And I want you to see yourself through my eyes. You should see the woman I see."
His fingers trailed down her throat to her collarbone and then down to the swell of her breasts. "Look at you. The very epitome of a woman." His fingers touched her nipples.
She drew in her breath, held it, shocked at the electricity sizzling between her breasts and belly, moving lower still to tease her thighs with arousal and catch fire to the very center of her core. Abruptly his hands dropped to her jeans again, to push them down over her hips. Solange caught her breath again, closing her eyes as she obeyed the pressure of his hand to step out of her clothes. Jaguars couldn't wear underwear as a rule because they couldn't get out of their clothes fast enough when they shifted. She stood absolutely naked in front of him, grateful for the softening effect of the candles, unable to look at him. She kept her arms where he'd positioned them and bit down hard on her lip to keep from blurting out anything else that might disappoint him.
No matter what he said about being beautiful, she didn't feel that way. And she wanted to be beautiful for him. She was going to die soon. There was no way to live in a fight with Brodrick; he was too strong. She'd accepted that she had limited time left, and in a way, she was grateful. She was so weary of days like this one, days of failure, of killing. Of not having anyone . . .
She wanted these last moments with Dominic. She respected him above all other men. She would never have been able to accept another man. But she wanted so much, for once in her life, to belong. To be cared for. To be a woman, not a warrior. This was her chance, now at the end of her days . . . if she could stand him looking at her scarred, repulsive body.
"Solange."
She winced. He was definitely reading her mind.
He shook his head. "Not your mind. Your expression." He traveled in a slow circle around her. She had a strong urge to shift into her jaguar, but now it was somewhat of a challenge. Did he tell the truth? Was he an honorable man? She needed to know. He was the first person she'd trusted enough to allow him to lead. She'd never even allowed her beloved cousins to do that.
He returned to stand in front of her and her legs nearly went out from under her. He was naked. Magnificently so. There was no way to breathe. Her mind came crashing to a halt. There was nothing small about Dominic, and right now, there was no doubt that he was aroused--for her. He drew a deep breath and she knew he could smell her own arousal. His eyes went darker green.
"I love the way you blush," he said. "So enticing. I had no idea my little wildcat would be so sexy."
She felt light-headed. Dizzy. Faint. The room tilted.
He swept her up into his arms, cradling