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sure. Women had started showing up not long after the car accident that had ruined his leg. They seemed certain that he needed care and comfort of a very special kind. It was tempting, but there was something about the way those women looked at him—as if his infirmity was part of what made him attractive. As if they could help him overcome his grief and guilt over Angela’s death. 
    But Charlie couldn’t be healed. And he couldn’t be with someone who looked at him with pity. 
    There was no pity on Briar’s face now. Her deep brown eyes were aglow with curiosity. Her soft pink lips were parted with wonder. Excitement had high color brushing her porcelain skin. She was the sort of beautiful that made a man think of fairy tale princesses, somehow innocent and regal at once. 
     A princess who was currently rubbing his chest with enthusiasm. 
    She had both hands on him now, massaging her elegant fingers deep into his muscles. She was marveling at him as she worked her fingers higher, up to the soft fur covering his neck. His purr took on a deeper intensity when she smoothed the fur over his shoulders. 
    “God, you’re a beautiful animal,” she murmured, and then ran one hand down the center of his rib cage. 
    He couldn’t stop himself from arching up into her touch. He had never been touched while he was a cat before. All of his other senses were sharpened when he transformed, so he supposed it shouldn’t have been surprising that physical sensation was more intense. Her hands sent little shock waves of satisfaction radiating through his body. Her fingers were working their way lower now, stroking the fur that flared out across his belly. 
    “I can’t believe I’m touching a mountain lion,” she breathed, and something surged in Charlie that was purely animal. 
    He turned his back to her and rolled to his feet. She lifted her hands, backing off from him. 
    He should let her. But he wanted more of her touch, more of those hands on him. He heard her inhale sharply when he pushed his big face into her hand. 
    Taking his encouragement, she rubbed his ears and neck. Charlie’s eyes drifted closed in satisfaction. No wonder house cats love this , he thought. Every stroke sent his brain reeling back while the animal part of him roared forward. His whole world narrowed down to those strong, soft hands and the waves of bliss cascading down his body. 
    He opened his eyes, and the expression on her face thrilled him. There was no pity on her face, nothing that reminded him that he was a ruined man, crippled and useless. 
    “This is incredible,” she said. 
    He felt incredible hearing her say it. 
    The smell of her—roses, wild and sweet—overwhelmed his senses. “What are you?” she asked, awe clear in her voice. “Did the fog make you too?” 
    She was on her knees, and he was sitting in front of her on his haunches. Their faces were on a level, and he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. If he were a man, this would be the moment when he’d kiss her. 
    For a reckless moment, he considered transforming so he could do just that. 
    Rattled, he shifted away from her. He couldn’t think straight when she was touching him. Had he really spent all these months carefully transforming in private, hiding his secret from everyone in his life, just so he could transform in front of a pretty girl? 
    He turned to stalk away, and his long tail smacked against her side. Curiously, she wrapped one hand around his tail, testing its weight and thickness as it slid across her palm. 
    It was too much, too sensitive, and he turned on her with an irritated growl. 
    “Sorry,” she said, dropping her hand immediately. “I know better than to touch a cat’s tail. I was curious, and … wait, don’t go away!” 
    She scrambled up to follow him. “Please. I promise I won’t touch you again, if that’s what you want. Can I just—”
    Whatever she was going to say was lost in a huge cacophony of