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Almost.

But not quite.

In the terrifying silence that followed the lovemaking, the anguish sank its claws in anew.

I had already come too far to back down.

A man got an opportunity like this only once.Only once.

I intended to seize it.

Even if it crushed me, even if it destroyed me.

Because I was Jame Asher, I was a human... and I had a job to do.

Lana

I blinked myeyes open as a shaft of morning light shone into the room. Outside I could hear all those odd sounds that came from the jungle surrounding the villa.

Beautiful earthly place. I would miss it when I was gone.

I stretched, my body pleasantly sore in strange places.

Last night came rushing back, and my heart galloped all over again. I lay there for several seconds just remembering. I could practically feel those hands, those lips, that body even now, moving over me, drawing me in.

I was queasy with excitement, with giddiness and nerves. It all happened.

Mated.

A smile spread across my face, so big it hurt my cheeks. I should be somber, considering what lay ahead of me, but nothing could shake this elation I felt.

My hand glided down my skin. I could still smell Asher on me—his sweat, and... other fluids.

His scent lingered on me and the sheets, but he was gone, the bed empty.

I sat up and cocked my head, listening for him. All I heard was a songbird’s melody.

Reluctantly I slid out of bed, picking up the scattered pieces of clothing I’d shucked off last night. I headed to the bathroom and began to wash them in the sink.

I hadn’t sang in a long time, but when I was young I used to do so with my mother. Now hearing those birds, and waking up feeling like the world was new—likeIwas new—I began singing a song from my childhood, my voice rising and falling as I first scrubbed, then dried my clothes. By the time I clicked off the blow dryer, I still hadn’t heard or seen Asher.

The first tendrils of unease crept through me.

It’s fine, I told myself, even as a dozen different worries rose to the surface.

It didn’t seem fine.

Slipping my clothes on, I left the room—ourroom.

“Asher?” I called out.

Only the quiet chirping of birds and bugs responded. I moved through the rest of the house, searching for him, calling out to him. When I didn’t find him, I exited the front door, only to stop in my tracks.

The car was gone.

He went outto get us breakfast, I reassured myself as I stood under the spray of the shower. Or he went out to purchase more clothes, or a map, or gas.

There were a hundred different logical reasons for him being gone. None of them drove away the horrible feeling taking root.