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seductive appearance, emphasizing her curves.

    Keeping her back to him, she pulled on her shirt and stepped into her jeans, taking several deep breaths to maintain control. Out of habit, Tansy wrapped the length of her hair several times and secured it at the back of her head with a large barrette.
    Surreptitiously, she looked around for her tranquilizer gun. It was not in the usual place by the jutting rock, which meant he probably had it. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the stranger.

    He was a large, heavily muscled man. The sheer brute strength of him set her heart pounding. If she had to be caught naked, alone, in the middle of nowhere, why couldn't that person have been by some ninety-pound weakling? She feared more than the actual size of him. He exuded power from every pore. He looked dangerous in some way she couldn't define. She might dismiss the impression of power by saying it was his looks, but she knew better. His features looked as if they could have been carved from stone, every bit as rugged as the granite surroundings. He wasn't handsome—he was far too r u
    o gh-cut for that. But he was striking in a scary way.

    "I'm sorry I startled you."

    His voice was smooth black velvet, the devil's tool and sarcastic as hell. n I tense anger
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    simmered below that smooth exterior. She touched her tongue to her lips, her only concession to nerves.

    "It was time to wake up anyway." She made herself shrug. "This is a private preserve and you aren't allowed here." He was military, not a hunter. His eyes were flat and hard and watchful—too watchful, as if he expected her to make a run for freedom. She shifted to the balls of her feet and turned slightly to angle her body toward his, presenting fewer targets should he attack.

    "I came looking for you."

    Because she'd been so startled to wake up to him, she hadn't registered until now that being in close proximity to him didn't cause the headaches she'd suffered around other human beings—including her parents. The ravenous psychic energy that normally surrounded her when she was close to people wasn't present. She felt the slight breeze, heard the continual call of birds, the buzzing of bees, but no whispers in her mind.

    "You came looking for me?" she echoed, feeling a little lost. Her gaze flicked over him, taking everything in the way she did, her mind c t a aloguing the picture, referencing the
    scars along with his gear—especially the knife at his side.

    He smiled as if to ease her fear. He looked like a mountain lion right before mealtime.
    "Let's start again. I'm Kadan Montague." Deliberately, his smile almost wolfish now, he held out his hand.

    Automatic reflex was nearly her undoing. Right before his hand enveloped hers, Tansy stepped backward, both hands behind her back. She didn't dare chance physical contact with him. Nor did she wish to get close enough if his intentions were to assault her.

    His smile widened at her reaction, warmed the strange black eyes until they glittered like a cat's at night. "You aren't afraid of me." He made it a statement.

    Anyone with a brain would be afraid of him, especially a woman. This was a man's man.
    There was nothing boyishly handsome in that rugged face. Nothing soft and gentle in those glittering eyes, but something else. What was it that both intrigued and repelled her?

    "You caught me in a compromising position. You must admit it isn't exactly a situation that would make a woman feel safe."

    Kadan studied her face—the flawless complexion, the full mouth, and the long, lush lashes—but it was her eyes that intrigued him most. There was no question that she was enhanced—he could feel the powerful psychic energy she gave off—but there was something more as well, something he'd not seen in other GhostWalkers before, and whatever the talent, it showed in her eyes.