Free Shifter's Dance by Vanessa North Page A

caught her hands to his lips again, pressing a kiss
to her knuckles.
    “Yes. Marry me, join your soul to mine, live the
rest of our lives making each other crazy and happy.”
    “You’ve known me less than a week—you don’t know me really.” This time, when she pushed at his chest, he let
her go.
    “I knew you the moment we met, Romy. The first time
I smelled you. The first time I touched you. The first time I
kissed you. Has it honestly ever been like this for you with anyone
else?”
    “No.” She shook her head. “No, it hasn’t. But,
Stephen, I’m blind.”
    “So what? I’m not pretty enough for you?” He
couldn’t help but tease her, and was glad to see her smile
again.
    “Don’t you want to be with someone who’s
perfect?”
    “You. You are perfect for me.”
    “I need to think,” she said.
    Her rejection caused a pang in his chest, but he’d
known she would need time to think about it. Walking away would be
the hardest thing he’d ever done, but for her, he would do it.
    “Okay.” He sighed, burying his hands in his hair as
he studied the emotions flying around on her face.
    “Come here.” She reached for him.
    One step and he was in her arms and his lips were on
hers. He poured all his love and all his desire into that kiss and
felt her answer in the stroke of her tongue against his, the press
of her body. She might not know it yet, but her soul was seeking
its mate. He pulled away.
    “Until tomorrow, Romy. I love you.” He kissed her
forehead, then one last lush swipe across her lips. “I love you.
Marry me. Be my mate.”
    “Go on, then, before I jump you again.” She smiled
half-heartedly, shooing him out the door.

Chapter Fifteen
    Romy spent half the night in the studio, stretching
and dancing until her body was exhausted, and still she didn’t
sleep well that night. Between the attack on the path, the
conversation with Cyrus, and Stephen’s stunning proposal, her world
was coming unglued. When the dull light of the predawn morning fell
on her closed eyelids, she closed them more tightly, for once not
wishing she’d open them to discover the last two months had been a
nightmare.
    Because then I wouldn’t have met Stephen.
    Just the thought of him stirred her up inside, made
her ache with a longing to be close to him. He thought of her as
his mate. He wanted to marry her.
    In that moment when she lay in her bed with her eyes
closed tightly against the onslaught of the day, she realized she
wanted him more than she wanted to go back in time. More than she
wanted to see. More than she wanted to dance.
    Her feet hit the floor before her eyes opened.
    Laughter poured out of her as she scrambled to get
dressed, pulling on her clothes in a record time that would have
passed for fast backstage during a show. A few sharp tugs of
bristles through her hair, teeth brushed, ointment on the eyes.
    I’m getting married.
    The thought sent another round of giggles through
her, and she fumbled for her cane.
    She rode the elevator impatiently down to the lobby,
listened for the sound of Myron’s cards slapping.
    Nothing.
    “Myron?” she called out tentatively.
    “It’s five o’clock in the morning, Romy.” The other
woman’s voice was sleepy, and came from behind her.
    “Oh! I didn’t think.”
    “It’s okay. I can read your cards for you if you
want.”
    “No. I just need to find Stephen. He’s on the second
floor?”
    “You can’t go up there. The second floor is not for
humans. Besides, he’s at the lake.”
    Myron gave her directions and sent her on her
way.
    Cane tapping in front of her, she made slow
progress, but eventually she felt the cane hit water. She fumbled
around until she found a rock to sit on, and she waited.
    She didn’t have to wait long.
    “Romy?” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver
down her spine.
    “Good morning.” She held out a hand. It seemed to
hang in the air interminably before he took it, pressed it to his
wet beard. She relished the