The Jaguar Prince

“Arm length, okay, got it,” she mumbled as she jotted down numbers. Then she returned and wrapped her arms around his chest. Her gaze darted to his face.

Callie had beautiful eyes. They were green, but not just any green. They were a clear, deep green.

She stepped back, bringing the cloth together again. “I’m not Symtarian.”

“You’re from a proud and noble lineage.”

“Then why was I left on the doorstep of the orphanage like someone’s trash they were trying to get rid of?”

“I thought you said your parents were dead.”

She glanced at him as she carefully wrapped the cloth around his waist, trying not to come into contact with his skin. “I tell people my parents died because it sounds better than saying they dumped me on a doorstep.” She looked at the cloth, then went back to her paper. “To me, they are dead.”

“I’m sorry. This hurt you very deeply.”

She shrugged. “It was so long ago that it doesn’t matter now.”

When she returned with the measuring cloth, he rested his hands on her shoulders. For a moment, she didn’t move, then she looked at him, jutting that fierce little chin forward.

“I don’t care about them anymore,” she repeated and he wondered who she was trying to convince, herself or him? Callie’s eyes practically dared him to challenge her words.

“Of course,” he told her, letting the matter drop.

She knelt down, stretching the measuring cloth from his waist to his ankle. She dropped one end, though, and when she reached for it, lost her balance. She grabbed him for support, but only caught his towel, gripping it tightly as she landed on her bottom with a thud.

Rogar was once again very naked.

“Oh, God,” she muttered as she stared at him.

She made a choking sound. He reached under her arms and helped her to her feet.

“I’m…uh…sorry,” she stuttered.

He casually pried the towel from her fist, knotting it again at his waist.

“Your inseam…uh…oh, hell, I’ll just guess.” She raced for the door, stopped, then hurried back and grabbed the bag off the low table before rushing out. She returned a few seconds later, ran through the house, came back with the phone, then stopped at the door again.

“Don’t touch anything.”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t answer the door if anyone rings the bell…or knocks.”

“I won’t.”

She nodded, then closed the door behind her.

She was very emotional, this part Earthling, part Symtarian woman. And very beautiful. He moved to the window, brushing the curtain to the side, and watched as she climbed into her vehicle. Rogar wondered how long it would take him to convince her that they should mate.

Soon, he hoped, because she already heated his blood.

You’d better think more about getting her home where she truly belongs rather than lusting after her, Balam’s thoughts mingled with his.

Rogar frowned. When I need your advice, I’ll ask for it.

You’d be better off if you asked for it more often. When have I ever steered you wrong?

Rogar snorted. I can name a number of times. Remember when you suggested I mate with that pretty blond hand-maiden my mother employed.

I didn’t know she was already joined with someone, he sniffed.

No, not someone. The man nearly beat me to a pulp.

I might have been wrong that once, Balam conceded.

And what about the time…

Enough! Trust me on this, if your mind is on mating, then how can you protect her? He’s coming, you know. I can sense he’s not far away.

Rogar sighed. I know, I have sensed him, too. I won’t let down my guard. Never fear, I will protect her with my life.

And that is what I’m afraid of.

Chapter 3

Callie backed out of her driveway and aimed for the nearest clothing store. She didn’t care about the cost, just as long as they came close to fitting him. She wanted Rogar, Prince of New Symtaria— yeah, right—out of her house and out of her life.

Besides, they wouldn’t cost that much. She was going to a resale store that was nearby. She shopped there all the time. If he didn’t like it, so be it, but she would insist he leave, no matter what. The guy was crazy.

She snorted.

An alien. Uh-huh, sure. And she was supposed to be one, too. She wasn’t any more an alien than…than that light post on the corner. So what if she had always felt like there was something different about her and…

Her body began to tremble so hard she could barely steer. The community park was only a block away. As soon as she came to the entrance, she pulled in and parked.

By now her body was shaking so hard she could barely catch her breath. She shifted the car into Park, then turned the key off before bringing her hands to her face.

“Oh, God, this isn’t happening. It can’t be.”

It wasn’t so much about Rogar being in her apartment, as it was the fact that she’d always felt different from everyone else. Not because she was an orphan, either. She’d always known there was more to it. What if she was as crazy as him?

“No, no, no!” She laughed hysterically. Was she really going to buy his story that she was part alien? Really? It was too preposterous. There was no such thing as aliens from other planets.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She screamed and turned so fast she almost got whiplash. Her heart pounded inside her chest as she looked at the uniformed officer standing outside her car.

Just a cop. She’d thought it might’ve been an alien come to whisk her off in his spaceship and poke her with…probes or…something.

He motioned for her to roll the window down. She nodded and turned the key until she had power, then pushed the button to bring it down.

“You okay, miss?”

She nodded. He reminded her of Ben, very fatherly, gray hair, and with concern on his face. If the officer continued being this nice, she would totally lose it.

He suddenly sniffed. “What’s that odor?”

She sniffed.

Bleh! She knew exactly what it was. “Tuna fish,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat, and in a clearer voice, continued. “I guess I forgot to take it out of my car.” A few days ago.

He stepped a foot away from her car. “Do you mind stepping out of the vehicle?”

“Well, actually, I was just going to the clothing store…”

“Miss, it wasn’t really a question as much as it was an order.”

“Oh.” She opened her door, and got out. “Is there a problem?”

His demeanor had rapidly changed from concerned officer to suspicious officer. She barely kept herself from sticking her arms in front of her and telling him to take her to jail. Just lock her up, and throw away the key. That’s the way her day was going.

“Stand straight, then bring one finger to your nose, then repeat with the finger on your opposite hand,” the