Willow The Wisp

Big, Blooming & Wild: Willow the Wisp Marie Treanor All rights reserved. Copyright ©2008 Marie Treanor Warning: The...

Author: Treanor Marie

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Big, Blooming & Wild: Willow the Wisp Marie Treanor All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Marie Treanor

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is

illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-912-5

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This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Big, Blooming & Wild: Willow the Wisp Marie Treanor The aliens are coming -- to rural Romania! Cristian is bored with life in the village. He wants to make a name for himself as a big city architect. But when he decides to cut down the lakeside wood to make way for luxury holiday cottages, Salcie is forced to act. Salcie has always been in love with Cristian. She knows he is ideally suited to be her life partner -- big, strong, good-natured and sexy as hell -- but he doesn’t think of her as a lover. No wonder: she’s the willow tree at the bottom of his garden. Achieving pollisexation in the nick of time, Salcie sets out to draw the woodcutters away from the trees. Fortunately, she knows just how to distract Cristian from everything except her delicious new fluffy body. However, trouble really starts when the young trees begin to shift too, and pursue revenge against their would-be murderer, Cristian…

Chapter One Salcie almost burst out of her bark. For some time now, whenever Cristian sat under her hanging branches, resting his broad back against her trunk, she had felt a warm tingling sensation spread upward from her roots to her tiniest, farthest leaf. But on the morning he threw back his head in anguish, almost grinding it into her, the pleasure was explosive. Of course, it was wrong to find such happiness in his distress. But the warmth of the early sun soaked into her, the river beside her gurgled joyfully over the rocks on its gentle, interminable journey to the sea, and the birds in her branches greeted the beautiful new day with particularly sweet songs. She couldn’t help but be happy, even before the man she’d loved for most of her life pressed himself into her for comfort. Tenderness washed over her, mingled with just a hint of rueful irritation. It was Violeta, of course. The silly, flimsy little creature had led him a fine dance this last year, and although Salcie could not understand what attracted a man like Cristian to such a shallow woman, she could not doubt his hurt when Violeta betrayed him and engaged herself to marry another man. Salcie wasn’t interested in the other man. For her, there had only ever been Cristian. The wild, adventurous little boy with the cheeky grin who had climbed among her branches -- and fallen out of them more than once -- had become a big, handsome man, thoughtful and hard-working without ever losing his sense of fun. Until Violeta, who seemed to have robbed him of both sense and humor. And now she was gone. Salcie might have rejoiced, but Cristian clearly didn’t. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, he pressed himself into her as if pushing away an unbearable pain. Inside, he was churning with emotion: anger, sorrow, shame, and

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guilt. The last two, she couldn’t find a reason for, but she was happy to blame Violeta anyway. She tried to soothe him, tried to absorb his hurt, will him to peace. Overcome by love, and by the strange powerful feelings induced by his touch, she swished the light fronds before his face. The urge to touch, for fun as well as compassion, overwhelmed her. Her leaves brushed his rough, weather beaten skin, making her tremble with some new excitement. With her caress, the pressure of his head eased, though he didn’t remove it. Salcie was glad. Slowly, sensuously, she stroked him. Experimenting, she willed herself to change, to be more like him. And slowly, with dawning wonder, she watched her fronds turn to fingers, long, pale, and sensitive, trailing butterfly-light across his cheeks and lips. Oh, it’s beginning! It is, it is… Cristian’s eyes snapped open. Instantly, her hands were gone. Only leaves on their flimsy, trailing branches brushed against him now. Disappointed, Salcie sighed to herself. Rest time was over too. Cristian got to his feet. Not the usual swift leap to activity that she was used to, but a slow, almost labored clamber. For the first time Salcie entertained the possibility that something other than Violeta was getting him down. Bad things were happening in Cristian’s life, and she was not yet able to help. She heard the clatter of tools being thrown into the back of the truck. And then the engine started and she knew he had driven away from her.

*** Having made his decision, Cristian just wanted it to be over. In a couple of weeks he should be able to shake the dust of Diaconu from his boots and begin his new life in Bucharest. As he drove along the dirt road to the lake, he kept his mind carefully full of building plans, business plans, and meeting plans. By the lakeside, Cristian saw the men waiting for him, lounging around a couple of trucks, desultorily talking and smoking.

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Iancu was there too, determined to make this more difficult. Even before Cristian halted the truck, Iancu was in his face. He didn’t quite wrench the door open, but by the time Cristian stepped out, he was lounging on the bonnet. With studied idleness, Iancu pushed his battered hat to the back of his head. “So,” he observed, “you’re really going to do it.” “Yes,” said Cristian calmly. “I’m really going to do it.” “You’d wreck this place? Wreck your own life? For her?” “For me,” Cristian said coldly. “This is only, and quite selfishly, for me.” “You’re letting him win,” Iancu taunted. Cristian was too tired to play the game, but he said it again anyway. “Letting who win?” “Albin! He gets your girl, gets your land and gets to trash it! In fact, you’re even saving him that trouble, aren’t you? You’re trashing it yourself!” It was almost funny. Cristian let his lips twist into the semblance of a smile. “Yes, I am. He won’t touch anything of mine, while it’s still mine.” “But you’ll hand it to him on a plate?” Iancu sneered. “Yes, I will. For lots and lots of money.” Cristian pushed past him. It was easy to do; there weren’t many men who could hold him up. “And the rest of us?” Iancu shouted after him, trying to shame him in front of the men. “We’re the ones who’ll have to live with it when you’re gone!” Cristian didn’t answer. He greeted the waiting men briskly, then added, “You’d better bring all the gear -- ropes and cutters. We’ll start at the top and work our way down.” As they trudged through the wood, Cristian tried to shut his mind to the clamoring memories of childhood -- diving in and out of the trees playing tag and hide and seek with Iancu and Dorina and the other local kids, climbing in and out of the flimsy branches, some of which had broken under his weight as he grew bigger. He’d broken his arm falling out of that one…

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He slid his eyes away. Guilt and fury twisted his gut. He was doing nothing wrong. He had permission to cut down the bloody trees. He wanted to cut down the bloody trees. He got more money out of bloody Albin for land already cleared, and that felt good. It was like getting one over on the little bastard, who couldn’t possibly know that Cristian would have left the village anyway, that he’d have given the land away just to escape. As it was, he’d have the money to start his own practice in Bucharest, become the foremost architect of the capital’s new development. Let Albin stew in this backwater puddle. Cristian had had enough. So why did he feel like such a shit? Why did he feel the very trees were staring at him with accusation, as if he’d betrayed them? Their lush leaves swished in the breeze, following him up the slope. Cristian could almost believe they were crying.

*** Salcie felt lonely when he’d gone. She always did now. The natural world around her that she watched through the sensors on her foliage -- growing flowers, passing butterflies and bees, caterpillars crawling through her leaves, the grasshoppers clicking in the grass and the fish that occasionally disturbed the river flowing along behind her - had all lost their fascination. She was impatient to grow up, to move, to become like him. She dwelled with pleasure on the appearance of her hands today. That had never happened before. She must be close to pollisexation… The knowledge was both exciting and frightening -- more frightening than it should be, because she knew she wasn’t supposed to do this alone. She should be surrounded by her siblings, all helping each other. Seq Viren had said so when he brought them here all those seasons ago. Yet here she was, planted alone. She wasn’t sure why. She’d been too small and sleepy. She hoped it wasn’t because she was so different from her brothers and sisters… She hoped she’d just somehow fallen out of Seq’s planting box. Not that she regretted growing up here. Especially after Cristian and Dorina had started playing around her. They were her favorite humans. Of course, she saw them

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most, because she grew at the bottom of their garden. When she was young, their parents had often sat under her, sometimes kissing. Gradually, they had come less, though, and she’d missed them until their children came. Sometimes other children had come too, and it had been wonderful watching them grow. Dorina had first kissed Iancu under her veiling branches, and now they had children of their own. And Cristian… Cristian had kissed girls in her shade too. And more. It was from him she’d learned how humans mated, and what extraordinary pleasure they got out of it. Years later, she’d seen him mate with Violeta too. That hadn’t been so nice. Because by then, she was feeling mating urges of her own. And Violeta was not worthy of him… Something was wrong. Cristian? Terror struck her like an axe. A bombardment of panic and alarm. But no, not Cristian. Not human. With awe, she realized she was hearing her own kind. She was not so far after all from other Botans! She could hear them! But it was not a sound to rejoice in. They were in trouble, terrible trouble, and none of them could do a thing about it. They were going to die. For an instant, horror consumed her. The taking of a life on such a scale was an abomination! Unthinkable! Grief for the siblings she’d never known rose up from her roots, filling her, straining her every branch to the breaking point. And suddenly, with a cry of pain that sounded almost human, her roots contracted and her human body burst forth. In spite of the circumstances, she knew a moment of awe and wonder, because finally she had done it. For an instant, she stood perfectly still, to see if she’d change back, the way her hands had done earlier. But nothing happened. Salcie stretched out her arms, lifted her face to the sun. And heard again the pitiful clamor for help. Where are you? she asked urgently. What’s wrong? You heard, you heard! Someone heard us! Oh, praise be, are we saved?

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Not yet, Salcie said grimly, interrupting the babble of voices. One of you tell me what’s wrong. As the others subsided, one male voice broke through with greater clarity. They’re going to kill us, cut us down… I’m following your voices, Salcie tried to reassure them as she hesitantly put one bare foot in front of the other. That worked. But she had no time to dwell on the fascinating movement of her toes and the muscles in her feet. She began to move, awkwardly, clumsily, but faster and faster along the river bank toward the source of the voices. Who is doing this? she demanded. She would get Cristian to stop them. Even if it took violence against several, he would do it. After all, he was bigger than anyone else Salcie had ever seen… Humans, men. How many? Is someone telling them what to do? Salcie’s foot slipped and she slithered down the river bank. Grasping at the dry ground to save herself -- weren’t hands efficient? -- she suddenly caught sight of her reflection in the water and paused. Instead of the big tree with overhanging branches and lush, trailing leaves, she saw a young woman, big and voluptuous. Long, chestnut-brown hair, thick and curly, framed a round, rather nice face. Green eyes seemed to flash in the rippling water. A slightly turned up nose added a pleasing impression of humor, she thought, as her full, red lips, parted with amazement, formed a silent “Oh.” Her limbs seemed long as well as rounded, strong as her stoutest branches had been. But though the rest of her looked plump and healthy, her neck seemed unnecessarily delicate, too slender for the big body beneath it. Large, firm breasts, welldefined curves at her waist and hips and… And she had no time to stand here admiring herself! Murder was about to be done, and she was the only one who could prevent it. Salcie ran on. Too late, she thought she should probably have found some clothes to cover herself before

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confronting humans. They always covered themselves, except when mating, and even then… Focus, Salcie! she told herself sternly. Forcing herself, she concentrated on the Botan voice instead. Someone’s in charge, yes, he’s telling the others who to kill first… Can you stop them? Are you an Elder Wood? Loath to disappoint the eager voice, Salcie had to admit, I’m afraid not. I’ve only just reached pollisexation. I’m alone. I have no wood of my own. But I will do my best. Can you show me the man who gives the orders? It would help. She might even know him. She did. His image swam into her head like a photograph. Cristian.

Chapter Two Being out of breath was a curious sensation. At first Salcie thought her human body was dying. Then, when she paused, wondering desperately how to save her siblings before she expired, she realized the body was merely tired because she had moved it so far, so fast. It was already recovering, her breathing slowing, her lungs and heart calming their furious pace naturally. By now, she stood in the wood itself, halfway up the slope. Her brothers’ welcome, more than half plea, battered at her as she tried to see what was going on. She could hear human voices now, shouting over the sounds of machinery. Oh no -- she knew what that meant. She had watched Cristian cut hedges with tools which sounded very like that… Am I too late? Have they killed some of you already? No, they’ve just cut down two sick trees -- Earth natives, not Botans. But we’re next… Salcie burst through into an open space, just as the noise cut off abruptly, and a tree crashed to the ground inches away from her. Several men yelled with fright. Not Cristian, he wasn’t there. But she recognized a couple of the others, local men who occasionally walked along the river bank. In ones and twos, they began to run toward her, instinctively making sure she wasn’t hurt. How could they be so careful of her, and so callous about the trees? Salcie dropped to the ground for an instant, touching the sick tree with compassion. When she glanced up again at the approaching men, she saw that some of them had faltered, causing those behind to stumble into them with mumbled curses and grunts. Their eyes had grown wide; their jaws dropped. Human male astonishment, swiftly followed by human male lust. Of course. She wore no clothes. Men liked to look at naked women -- it gave them mating urges. Well, really, this would be too easy! Mischief mingled with revenge.

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Salcie straightened and smiled dazzlingly at the men. Instinct and observation combined in that smile to make it the most seductive any of them had ever seen. She read it in their faces just before, with a little laugh and a wave, she turned and ran back the way she’d come. “Hey!” She heard their footfalls, the rushing of grass, and the snapping of dry twigs as they followed her. Mischief lent her legs new speed, and practice had given her greater agility. She flitted through the trees, leading the men in circles, dodging those who tried to head her off, and all the while she spoke to the trees. Swish your branches! Howl at them, make them afraid… Are there others? Only the man in charge. Cristian… We hate Cristian. You shouldn’t. He’s troubled. But I’ll change his mind. I won’t let him hurt you, I promise. Where is he? What is he doing? He’s talking, on the communication device. Telephone. He’s in the truck by the lakeside. Fine. Whoops! They’d finally caught her. Or at least one man had -- a young one with a roguish smile, who took many girls walking along the river. Gavril. He leapt out from behind two trees and she ran straight into him. He laughed, immediately catching her in his arms. Gavril was warm, the skin of his arms smooth. They felt unexpectedly good, his strength appealing despite her situation. And he had the sort of smile that brought the mating urge surging to the fore. So she smiled back. “Caught you, my wood nymph,” he said softly, teasingly. She placed both hands against his chest. It felt strong too, pleasingly hard, though uncomfortably angular. Beneath his thin shirt and his skin, she could feel his bones, so prominent she almost felt she could close her hand round them. He was just a boy.

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A boy with wandering hands. One slid down over the curve of her buttock, making her shiver with surprised delight. The other swept down from her shoulder and over her breast as if by accident. His breathing altered. His panting was no longer from the exertion of chasing her through the wood. And his male organ was growing big and hard against her thigh. It might have been nice to linger there, experimenting with his touch, but Salcie had more to do than pander to her mating urges. She had to get the men away from the trees. So she let him brush his fingers across her nipple, and while his attention was thus engaged, slid neatly out of his hold. She could hear the others catching up. “You mustn’t cut down the trees, you know,” she said seriously. Trees were clearly the last thing on Gavril’s mind. “Cristian has permission…” “Not from the trees. We can’t let you do it.” “Why not?” He was frowning, trying to get his mind off sex and onto treecutting, without noticeable success. Salcie decided she’d said all she could for now. When he stepped forward she stepped back and winked. “Come to the pub and I’ll tell you.” And she slipped away, avoiding the others. She ran at first in the direction of the village, which could just be glimpsed through the trees, nestling at the foot of the hill. Behind her, she could hear Gavril repeating what she’d said. The nearby trees magnified it for her, and she knew she had hit a nerve, part-instinct, part-superstition. To cut down a tree is to deny your own roots… they really believed that, deep inside. Cristian was denying his roots. Salcie doubled back, heading for the clearing where she’d first run into the men. Hopefully Cristian would still be somewhere else, or off chasing his suddenly absent men…

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She approached with caution, but there was no sign of Cristian. Only the power tools abandoned in the clearing near the fallen tree. There were five of them. Salcie went to investigate. The trees spoke to her. The men are going toward the village… but they’ll be back. I know. How do these things work? Fearfully avoiding the sharp blade, Salcie ran her fingers over the handle area. Finding a cap, like a bottle top, she unscrewed it. At once, a familiar smell assailed her new nostrils. Gagging, she pushed it away from her. Petrol. The stuff they put in cars and other machinery to make them go. This was what powered the cutting tools too. Salcie smiled up at the surrounding trees. Got any leaves to donate? While a carpet of leaves began to flutter to the ground, Salcie dug her fingers into the dry ground at her feet and came up with a handful of earth, tiny stones, and grass. Happily, she dropped it into the tank of the cutting tool. She did the same with all five, dropping handfuls of earth into each, then stuffing leaves up to the top, before replacing the caps. Experimentally, she pressed a button. The tool spat, made a horrible clunking, grinding noise, spat again and began to whine piteously. The chain blade remained quite still. Salcie smiled. That takes care of that. For now. Cristian is heading your way. I think he’s disturbed by the silence. The men should be cutting us down. Thanking the observant Botan, Salcie retreated. When she saw his big, bulky frame striding through the trees, her breath caught and she forgot to breathe out again. An instinct older than time urged her to go to him, to throw herself into his big, strong arms and show him this wonderful new body that could now mate with his. But she hadn’t completed her tasks. She had to find the rest of the petrol, to be sure her siblings were safe for the day at least. She mustn’t look at Cristian. She mustn’t desire him, or pity him. She had to save him along with her brothers, when he didn’t even know he needed saving.

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While Cristian strode up the hill to the clearing, Salcie flitted downward to the lake, walking swiftly around its shore until she came to Cristian’s parked truck. Another chainsaw and several petrol canisters lay under a tarpaulin in the back. At first, Salcie found it difficult to climb up and down, but after the third or fourth trip, she became quicker and less clumsy. She was just screwing on the cap of the last sabotaged canister, when a voice said ominously, “What are you doing there?” Recognizing the voice, she jumped to her feet in alarm. For although his voice was not remotely harsh -- more curious than angry -- she was well aware he wouldn’t approve of what she’d done. The sun shone directly onto his dark, shaggy head. His large, brown eyes stared unblinkingly. His tongue seemed to have frozen in the act of licking his upper lip. Cristian was stunned. Excited laughter bubbled up. Her new body certainly had his attention. With renewed confidence, Salcie’s mischief returned. “Cristian,” she said happily, and crouching down, she reached out her arms to him.

Chapter Three Cristian couldn’t quite believe his eyes. At first, he thought he must be hallucinating. After all, around here it was not an everyday occurrence to find a naked woman in your truck. A naked woman you’d never laid eyes on before, and moreover, one built to send one’s cock raging into overdrive. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Tall, almost Amazonian in build, her figure was full and voluptuous, all curves and softness. The light breeze stirred her luxuriant, chestnut hair, seemed to tug at her long, erect nipples. Her breasts were enticingly large, perfectly shaped for a big man’s hands… Forcing himself, he looked higher and met her mischievous green eyes. Her face too was impossibly lovely, full of laughter, and something that looked suspiciously like joy. No wonder he was stunned. And then she called him by name, and actually bent her enticing knees to crouch down on the truck floor, gifting him a close-up of her gorgeously curved thighs and the hairless, pink mystery between. She reached out to him with strong, rounded arms. It was instinct to stretch up to help her. Yet he almost expected the hallucination to vanish as soon as he touched it. The girl didn’t vanish. She almost hurled herself into him and suddenly his arms were full of luscious, naked female flesh. Her arms wound around his neck. Her big breasts pressed into his chest, and God help him, he could feel her nipples through his shirt. His body reacted without permission, and she must have felt the hardness of his raging erection as he let her slip slowly to the ground. He wanted to caress the warm, soft skin of her waist and back, so much that it was suddenly torture to force his hands to stillness. Yet he couldn’t persuade them to leave her.

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She smiled up into his eyes, her own shining with the same peculiar joy. Her arms still clung around his neck. “Cristian,” she repeated on a sigh, and lifting her face, she touched her lips to his. His own parted in shock, for she tasted astounding -- sweet, earthy, curiously herbal -- and he was conscious of a sudden urge to sink into her, delve deeper into that delicious mouth, kiss her to insanity. As a prelude to sinking himself more intimately still between her thighs. Her generous body would welcome him, give him the release he craved and more. She was a goddess, a siren, and he wanted to fuck her stupid. All that the instant her lips touched and left his. She took his numb hands in hers, placing them on either side of her so that he could feel, briefly, the enticing curve of her breasts. And then she swept them down her body, over the luscious curves of her waist and hips and thighs, then back up to her rounded buttocks. Convulsively, without permission, his hands closed, squeezing the soft, yielding flesh. She gasped, her open mouth so close to his that he barely had to move to kiss it, to begin all the things his imagination was conjuring… “… but she’s not there! We can’t all have imagined her!” “Tell the boss.” “This is weird, too weird for words…” The approaching voices slammed into Cristian’s haze of lust like a punch. He snatched his hands off the girl’s body, just as his missing men lumbered into view from the village path. Unaccountably furious, as well as embarrassed to be discovered with a naked female in his arms -- how could he tell them off from this position for not working? -- he almost snarled over the voluptuous naked shoulder, “Where the hell have you been?” “Might have known it, the boss has found her!” said Gavril. Irritated, Cristian reached up to detach the girl’s hands from his neck. “She appeared out of nowhere, just as we felled the first tree,” said Bogdan. “It missed her by inches, and when we tried to make sure she was all right, she ran away.

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We followed her, and she told Gavril to meet her in the pub. But when we got there, there was no sign of her -- and no one had seen her in the village.” “You must admit she’s not the sort of sight that would go unnoticed in the village,” Gavril observed. “Even with her clothes on.” Finally managing to break her hold -- with a little more force than he normally cared to use on a woman -- Cristian disentangled himself from the naked arms. Stupidly, he immediately felt their loss, like a blanket taken away, like excitement suddenly destroyed by harsh words. Yet still she looked at him, apparently unembarrassed by her nakedness. Cristian had difficulty tearing his eyes free himself, and only managed it in the end because he realized all his workers were staring too. Swearing under his breath, Cristian tore off his shirt, barely pausing to undo the buttons. “Here, put this on,” he said hastily, but she only smiled again, and he had to place it around her shoulders, holding it for her to push her arms through. “Thank you,” she said, and laughed, as if the sound of her own voice amused her. For the first time, it struck Cristian that she was not entirely sane. Yet there she stood, the shirt still open to reveal most of her breasts -- suddenly all the more enticing for being partially covered -- as well as her long length of strong legs, and that pretty, hairless slit that led to her pussy… Cristian swallowed and yanked the edges of the shirt closer together. He even managed to fasten a couple of buttons before his fingers became too clumsy under his men’s amused and envious observation. The girl herself seemed to be gazing avidly at his own naked chest, which made matters worse. “Who are you?” Cristian demanded, determined to be business-like at last. “What’s your name?” She considered. “I’m called Salcie.” Salcie. Willow. Cristian frowned. “That’s an unusual name. Are you a gypsy?” She smiled in amusement and shook her head. She lifted one hand, touching his chest with her fingertips.

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“Where are you from?” “In the short term -- the bottom of your garden. In the long term -- much farther away.” Swiftly, Cristian caught her hand and almost threw it from him. Her touch was electrifying and far too sweet for his -- or her -- good. She looked almost -- hurt. “She said we shouldn’t cut down the trees,” Gavril blurted. “Did she indeed?” Well, that made more sense, he thought bitterly. Dorina had put her up to it. Or Iancu. He curled his lip. “Tell my sister she’s wasting her time. Her efforts are misguided and pointless.” The girl -- Salcie -- looked puzzled. “What is she doing?” “Interfering,” Cristian said irritably. “Look, go and find your clothes, wherever you left them, and if you come here bothering my men again, I’ll inform the police. Understand?” The girl’s gaze scanned his face, as if she was looking for something. In vain, it seemed. Her shoulders drooped slightly in his big shirt. She looked crestfallen, and there was something in her eyes that again might have been hurt. But then long, thick lashes swept down over her cheek, hiding them. “I understand,” she whispered, and turned and walked away around the lake. Cristian and the other men all watched her. For some reason, Cristian felt like a brute.

*** “They’re all the same,” said Bogdan, all but throwing the last of the chainsaws to the ground. “They’ve all been sabotaged.” “With earth and stones,” said Gavril significantly, “and leaves.” “So what?” Cristian demanded impatiently. When he got his hands on whoever did this… “So she said -- Salcie said -- the trees hadn’t given their permission. To be cut down.”

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“Well, they wouldn’t, would they?” said Cristian with sarcastic reason. And then the truth struck him. “Of course. Someone paid Salcie to distract us while her accomplice sabotaged the equipment! Who would do such a thing?” Dorina? Surely not! Iancu? Would he really go that far? He had tried one last time to talk to Cristian and then -- and then would he really have put such a plan into operation? Would anyone else in the village? Cutting down the wood was not universally popular. There were many objections in the village, but to go to the lengths of hiring a gypsy to run naked around the countryside and damaging expensive power tools? He couldn’t honestly imagine it. Unless some outsider had gone too far. Cristian sighed. “Well, we’re not going to get anything else done today. Let’s see if we can clean these tools out and make them work for tomorrow. Same pay, of course.”

*** “Cristian,” his sister greeted him when he walked unannounced into her kitchen. “Murdered many trees today?” “You know damn well I haven’t.” Dorina looked up from the vegetables she was chopping with unnecessary vigor. “It’s true then? Your tools were sabotaged by a naked wood-spirit?” “Trust me, she was no spirit,” Cristian said grimly, remembering only too well the solid, fleshly feel of her in his arms. Without slowing her chopping, Dorina kicked a kitchen chair toward him. But he didn’t sit in it. He said, “Tell me you didn’t pay gypsies to come here and do this.” Viciously, Dorina sliced the head off a carrot. “All right. But I’m not sorry someone else thought of it.” “Family loyalty is such a moving trait.” “If you want it, earn it,” Dorina snapped. “It’s a two-way deal, and selling land our family’s looked after for generations to a lowlife like Wadim Albin is, frankly, betrayal. Worse, you know it!”

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“Don’t start that again. It’s only unused land. Why shouldn’t I use it to get what I want for once?” He spoke belligerently, ready for a fight to relieve his anger and frustration at the peculiar day. But unexpectedly, Dorina wouldn’t play. She laid down the knife and swept the dark, frizzy hair off her forehead with her wrist. “I wouldn’t mind if it was what you wanted. But it isn’t. You’ve let that stupid little slut choose for you. And the city will smother you, Cristian, destroy you.” “I’m not running away from Violeta,” Cristian said evenly. “She just made me realize the time I’m wasting. As for Bucharest destroying me, why the hell should it? I’ve lived in cities before.” “University,” Dorina said dismissively. “You spent as much time here as there. You’re burning your boats, Cristian. With family land.” “I’ve made up my mind.” He knew he sounded obstinate. He was tired of sounding like that, but it was just plain irritating to be misunderstood by his own sister. “Do you want coffee? Or a beer? Iancu will be home in a few minutes.” Cristian’s smile was a little twisted. “No, thanks. I’m not Iancu’s flavor of the month either. I have to get back. Dorina,” he added over his shoulder as he opened the kitchen door. “Iancu wouldn’t have done this, would he?” “Ask him,” Dorina challenged, picking up the knife with renewed purpose.

*** Deep in thought, Cristian was about to go into the house when something caught his eye. He turned, gazing across the length of the garden, which ran down to the river with no fence to divide it. Only the willow tree guarded the entrance. And something fluttered in its branches. Slowly, Cristian retraced his steps, then walked down the garden toward the tree. It was his white shirt hanging from a high branch. She must have thrown it up, for he had to jump in order to reach it. He wondered why she’d bothered to return it. If someone had paid her to damage his tools, or at least to dance around naked to allow someone else to damage his tools, why should she balk at taking his shirt? Which, after all, he had given her. He’d never said it was a loan.

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For some reason, he lifted the garment to his nose. It smelt as she had -- sweet and earthy. Or perhaps it just smelled of the tree, he thought cynically. And gave the willow a crooked smile. “Salcie,” he observed, patting its trunk affectionately. Like the mysterious gypsy girl. Just remembering her made him harden uncomfortably. She had been a strange and totally beguiling mixture of innocence and deliberate seduction. Well, he’d had enough of deliberate seductions. The next one he got involved in, he’d be doing the seducing. “Good night, my salcie,” he murmured to the willow, impulsively hanging his shirt back up where he’d found it. Maybe the human Salcie would come back later and get it. Maybe he’d even see her doing it. But he suspected his mind would always see her naked… “I’m going inside now to get thoroughly pissed. And tomorrow, I’m going to cut down the trees of my ancestors. Cheers.”

Chapter Four Salcie watched him walk back across the garden to the house, as she had done hundreds of times before. Only now it was different. It seemed strange looking at him with her tree vision after she’d seen him as a woman sees a man. Not that it stopped her from observing. She found herself focusing on his bottom as he walked. She liked the way it moved inside his pants. Big and muscle-y like the rest of him, and what the humans called sexy as sin. Longing rose up from her roots. She’d felt him now, in her arms. She’d known the strength in his as he’d lifted her down from the truck. And he wasn’t immune to her: she’d felt the hardness of his male organ pressing into her hip. But of course he didn’t know her. He didn’t want her as his mate -- not yet at least. He still wanted that skinny little moron, Violeta. Probably only because she’d rejected him, Salcie thought shrewdly. It wasn’t a relationship that could ever have lasted. Violeta was little in mind and body, shallow as the puddle that formed to the left of Salcie’s trunk in the spring rain. Cristian had a big heart inside his big body and she already guessed at the depths of personality she longed to know so intimately. Salcie was tired after her extraordinary day. And she knew she had to plan for tomorrow, when the machinery would no doubt be fixed and ready once more to cut down her brothers in the wood. But now that she’d absorbed a satisfying amount of nutrients from the fertile soil at her roots, she found she could not rest. She wanted to be a woman again. She wanted Cristian with a strength that made her ache. He was her mate. Perhaps she’d always known it, but now, finally achieving pollisexation, she recognized the fact with pure certainty. Her only difficulty would be to get Cristian to recognize it too.

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Well, one of her many difficulties. Ruefully, Salcie found herself wishing she didn’t have to worry about the younglings in the wood. Couldn’t she just enjoy the moment, concentrate exclusively on this momentous happening? No, she couldn’t. They had no one but her to look after them. But it was growing dark. They were safe for tonight. And she was free to do as she wished. Salcie willed herself to change, felt her roots contract and shifted seamlessly. Cristian’s white shirt fell in a puddle around her bare feet and she laughed. Bending, she pulled the shirt on over her arms, forced her clumsy fingers to fasten the buttons. Then, without more ado, she walked up to the back door and knocked. It opened almost immediately, and Cristian stood there, staring at her. He looked so handsome that Salcie smiled, and he blinked once, hard, as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Salcie the gypsy,” he observed. “What can I do for you?” “You could invite me in for a start.” Speaking was an interesting sensation. She loved the way her voice subtly vibrated in her head and throat. She loved that the noise communicated meaning. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, do you?” “Why not? Are you worried about your reputation?” “No,” Cristian said baldly. “Yours.” Salcie laughed, enchanted by such unnecessary chivalry. “I rather think I blew that by running naked around the woods.” Only as she said it did she realize the danger in what she’d done. The humans here paid a lot of attention to women’s reputations. The last thing she wanted was Cristian to shun her… He smiled back reluctantly. “Point. But there’s no need to make it worse. Why don’t you meet me in the village tomorrow? At the café?” “Tomorrow might be too late,” she said, and ducked under his am before he could stop her.

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Surrendering to the inevitable, Cristian closed the door. “You tried,” Salcie assured him. “Not very hard. Please go in. Would you like a glass of wine?” “Sure,” Salcie said with alacrity, beguiled as much by his civility as by her desire to experience new and human things. He waved her politely into a beautiful room with polished wooden floors and thick, patterned rugs. Books lined two tall bookcases on either side of a magnificent stone fireplace. Most of the furniture seemed to be made from trees, though fortunately not Botans, and it did look rather appealing, she thought guiltily. The only ugly thing in the room was a box-like object made of metal with a dark screen in the middle. “Please, sit down,” he invited, walking to a cabinet and taking a glass from it. He laid it beside one already on a little wooden side-table and poured some dark, red wine into both. Turning, he brought the glasses to the soft, pleasantly springy sofa she’d chosen, and sat down beside her. Not close, not touching, but at least beside her. “So,” he said, as she took the glass from him, “you don’t have any clothes, or what?” Her breath caught. Something had changed. There was no trace now of the morning’s half-embarrassed shock. Instead, his eyes looked directly into hers, teasing, laughing at her. “No, I don’t,” she said truthfully, wondering if she should be offended. “Well, since it suits you so well, you can keep my shirt. But I should warn you it’s not considered fashionable in the village.” Was he teasing again? Lazy amusement still lurked in his dark eyes, but behind that was an odd, warm light she couldn’t read -- mockery perhaps? Or contempt? She hoped not, because for some reason, it gave her a strange excitement. She regarded her legs doubtfully where they emerged from his shirt. There did seem to be a lot of flesh. Perhaps he didn’t like it. And yet, when she glanced back at

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him, a question forming on her lips, his gaze was fixed on the milky expanse of her thighs, and that light in his eyes had grown warmer and stronger. “Where can I get fashionable clothes?” she asked, and something that might have been a laugh issued between his lips. This time he did smile, directly into her eyes, and it devastated her. “You could ask my sister.”

“Dorina?”

“Then you do know her?”

“I’ve seen her,” Salcie allowed.

“Aren’t you going to drink your wine?”

Confused, Salcie turned her attention to her glass, lifted it to her lips and sniffed.

Aware of his gaze, steady and amused, she sucked up a mouthful of the wine. It made a slushing noise as it entered her mouth, and again she heard the breath of half-laughter from Cristian. Mortified, she realized she’d sucked too hard. Humans didn’t make that noise when they drank. Perhaps she should pour rather than suck. The taste was a surprise too: warm and sour, it burned her mouth, catching the back of her throat. And yet she rather liked it. She took another mouthful, more gently this time, and that worked better. Pleased, she glanced up at Cristian and found him regarding her with amused fascination. “One would almost think you’d never drunk before either.” “There are many ways of absorbing nutrients,” she observed vaguely, and this time, puzzlement definitely outweighed amusement in his face. The fascination, however, was still there. “So,” he said, sipping his own wine. Salcie watched him carefully, for hints. She wished she’d paid more attention to the mechanics of all those picnics under her branches. “What is it you came here for, Salcie?” Involuntarily, she smiled at the sound of her name on his lips. It wasn’t the one she’d been born with, but it was all anyone had ever called her in fifty years. And she’d

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always liked Cristian’s voice, deep, low, soft… But now she had to listen to the words, answer the question. And despite the warm, ambiguous humor he injected into it, it was an important one. She drew in her breath. It seemed to help. “I want to ask you not to cut down the wood by the lake.” “You’ve already asked that,” he said evenly. Salcie frowned. She didn’t mean to. Her brow just formed that shape as she tried to remember. “I don’t believe so. When did I ask?” “This morning. When you led my men away from their work, like some daytime will o’ the wisp. Who sabotaged my tools?” His voice was still light; faint amusement still lurked in his face, but she realized suddenly that his eyes were hard -- not threatening, but cold and unyielding. It wasn’t a side of him she’d seen before. “I did,” she confessed with conscious bravery. Surprise flickered across his face. “Why?” “I don’t want you to cut down the wood.” “Why not?” “Because…” She struggled to find the words. He wasn’t ready for the truth, and yet the urge to tell him was strong. “Because the trees are alive.” “Of course they are,” he said patiently. “But they’re hardly sentient, so you can spare your compassion.” “But they are!” she interrupted his sarcasm. “Can’t you feel it when you walk there? They are more than simply plants. They have sentience, they have -- spirit!” Cristian relaxed, settling his arm across the back of the sofa while he regarded her with open mockery. “And you are the embodiment of that spirit? The spirit of the wood? Come to frighten my workers and talk me out of cutting them down? How gullible do you think we are?” Well, that argument was going nowhere, she thought helplessly. She had never seen him like this: mocking, challenging, completely in control. And unreadable.

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“Spill, Salcie,” he said quietly. “Tell me what’s going on. I don’t think you’re comfortable with what you did -- otherwise you wouldn’t have come here. Just tell me who put you up to it and I’ll see that you lose nothing.” She lifted her chin. “No one put me up to it. I did what I had to.” “Okay.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He drank some wine, watching her without speaking until she shifted restlessly. “Why do you want to cut down the trees anyway?” He shrugged. “I’ve received an offer for the land. From a property developer. Wadim Albin. He’s willing to pay a very good price if the land is already cleared. He wants to build luxury cottages on it. Holiday homes for foreigners and rich people from Bucharest. It will bring a lot of money into the village.” “Albin…” Salcie repeated, searching her memory. Of course! The man Violeta had left Cristian for. This was weird… “You know Albin?” Cristian sounded curious, almost suspicious. “I know his name. But if he has your land, what will you do?” “I’m going to work in Bucharest.” “But you can’t!” Salcie blurted. He looked amused again. “Actually, I can. I have several commissions already, and other proposals under consideration. What’s the matter? Will you miss me?” “Yes,” she said honestly, and an unexpected frown of irritation crossed his brow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Salcie. You’ve met me twice. I’m really not so easily flattered.” Salcie let that one go. She refused to be distressed; she simply wouldn’t let it happen. “Work,” she said thoughtfully. “What work is that? You draw pictures,” she remembered. “Of buildings.” “I’m an architect,” Cristian said dryly. “Living and working in Bucharest, I can make a lot more money.”

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“Money,” she said with a dismissive flick of the wrist that sent her wine almost over the edge of the glass. “Fun is better than money.” “And how do you have fun? Girl without clothes.” His voice was soft again, the glint in his eyes prominent once more. Almost with shock, she realized he was flirting with her. Their roles from the morning were reversed. A pulse she had been previously unaware of started to jump in her neck. “I watch people, mostly,” she said, unaccountably breathless. “But that’s not so much fun as it used to be.” “Participation is generally better,” he agreed with mock seriousness. His eyes danced, enchanting her. “Participation in what?” Nervously, she took a gulp of wine, managed not to choke on it. Cristian’s smile broadened. “You choose,” he said softly. Salcie forgot to breathe. He was gazing at her lips. Without warning, moisture seeped from between her thighs and she wriggled. Something ached, everything ached, for his touch. From sheer instinct, she leaned toward him. His lips curved, his head bent -- and somewhere in the house a bell rang. Cristian swallowed a laugh. “Excuse me,” he said politely, although Salcie had the feeling he was still mocking -- whether himself or her she didn’t know. He stood and left the room. Once more Salcie, unmoving, studied the swing of his buttocks in his jeans. The soft, complicated bits between her legs were flooded now. She wanted to press them into Cristian. Very badly. She heard the sound of an outside door opening. A strange man’s voice, followed by Cristian’s, quiet, cold. Curiosity, as well as a need to stir things up in the village, sent her catapulting off the sofa and out of the room. At the end of the large, wide hallway, a big door stood open to the evening starlight. Cristian held it with one hand while the man on the outside addressed him. “… remind you that I won’t pay that much with the trees still there.”

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“I remember the deal,” Cristian said. He sounded casual, yet the stance of his body, the tension seeping from him, all proclaimed his loathing of his visitor. “One way or another, you’ll get the land by the time we already agreed -- at whichever price is appropriate. But you’ll have to excuse me from further discussion on the matter tonight. I’m busy.” “So I see,” observed his visitor with a faint curl of the lip. Salcie had moved instinctively toward Cristian, and slipped into the pool of light at the front door. Cristian glanced at her, almost startled. Then, without warning, he dropped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her to his side. He felt warm and big, massively comforting and exciting at the same time. Salcie smiled too. “Good night, Albin,” Cristian said pointedly. So this was Wadim Albin, the man who had taken Violeta from Cristian and was about to take his land. Who was ultimately behind the tree-cutting. Albin curled his lip, his eyes raking over Salcie in nothing but her host’s shirt. “I can reassure Violeta then, that you’ve found consolation.” “I wouldn’t use ‘consolation’,” Cristian said gently. “It implies second best.” “And with a woman more suited to your size!” the visitor continued with a more obvious sneer. “At least she shouldn’t break under your weight.” “Violeta liked his weight too,” Salcie assured him, smiling innocently as she closed the door in his face. Cristian didn’t impede her. Instead he regarded her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. His arm around her shoulder tightened, forcing her round to face him. “Either you learn too fast, or you know too much to start with.” “Both,” said Salcie, pleased. “You don’t need to pander to my petty quarrels, you know.” “It isn’t petty. And I wasn’t pandering. I would very much like to feel your weight on me.”

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Something leapt in his eyes, but he gave a rueful laugh. “I can’t make up my mind whether or not you know what you’re saying when you make comments like that.” “I know,” she said softly, raising her face to his. For an instant he hesitated. Then he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. Salcie parted them, and this time he sank gently into her mouth. She sighed, obediently opening further to his questing lips. His tongue dipped into her mouth and her stomach seemed to dive downward, tingling, into that troublesome area between her legs. She emitted a strangled little moan, clutched his shoulders for support. And suddenly his kiss changed. His mouth was wild on hers, seizing, devouring, plundering, forcing a response she had no idea how to give. Her body went on blind, furious instinct, slamming into his, her lips, tongue, and teeth following his in fierce exploration. His male organ was already hard and huge, pressing above the juncture of her thighs and she writhed against it until he pushed her against the door and ground it into her instead. Into her mouth he groaned, “Is this what you came for? Is this what you want?” “Yes, oh yes,” she said, almost whimpering with happiness and want which had suddenly become rolled into one. She clung to his mouth, lost in sensation and lust. Her body felt boneless, yet gloried in its helplessness. Only the pressure of his kept her standing against the door. He tore his mouth free. His eyes were clouded, black and stormy with passion as he stared down into hers, his breathing ragged. “You want me to fuck you?” She nodded dumbly, running her hands up and down his thick, muscled arms, reaching around his broad waist. He stood quite still, his cock throbbing into her pubic bone. “Why?” he whispered. “Why do you want me to fuck you?” She smiled through trembling lips. “I love you.”

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His eyes, his whole face, froze. A weird, anguished laugh seemed to be torn from him. “Christ, but you’re a seductive little liar. Salcie, I’ll fuck you tonight, and still cut down your bloody trees in the morning.” “No,” she whispered. “If you fuck me tonight, you’ll know why you can never cut down those trees.” His eyes, still hot, scanned hers. Then, slowly, he reached up and took her hands away from him. “I won’t play your games, Salcie.” “I’m not playing,” she said hoarsely, but already he had turned away. She had lost again.

Chapter Five Cristian got as far as the sitting room door before he twisted back round to tell her -- what, he wasn’t sure. He was in time to see the front door closing, narrowly missing the tail of his shirt. He swore under his breath and strode to the door, wrenching it open once more. “Salcie?” There was no sign of her. He walked out into the warm night, quickly scanning the path, and the road beyond. She wasn’t there. “Salcie?” he called, moving around the side of the house to the long stretch of back garden that led down to the river. She wasn’t there either. Only the lawn and the bushes, the bench his mother had liked to sit on, the willow tree at the end, silhouetted against the starlit sky. The girl had disappeared, almost as if she were the tree spirit his workers feared. Leaving his shirt dangling once more from the branches of her namesake.

*** Salcie had a fine morning, teasing the workers by flitting through the wood making eerie noises, shaking her brothers’ branches when there was no wind to blow them, enticing them away from the partially repaired tools by revealing herself and beckoning. Wary but peculiarly eager, they all came. So by the time Cristian found them, they were sitting in a circle, like docile if slightly foul-mouthed schoolboys, hanging on Salcie’s words. Gavril said, “It’s true. We don’t want to cut down the trees. But Cristian wants it done -- and to be honest, we need the money.” “You won’t need the money,” Salcie promised rashly. She’d think of something later. “Only good things can come from doing the right thing now. All you need to do,

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to make everything right, is tell Cristian you won’t cut down the trees. He can’t do it all himself.” “No, he can’t.” Every head jerked round, guilt mingling with defiance in the workers’ faces as they discovered their employer leaning against one of the larger trees, observing them. Today he wore a western style T-shirt with jeans, rather than the traditional peasant garb of most of the workers, as if he was trying to reinforce the differences between them. Stating his determination to become a city-dweller rather than a villager. Salcie’s heart beat faster. He looked so big and handsome, and she knew now how that body felt pressed against her in passion. It made the ache for him a hundred times worse, and yet just remembering it made her weak with pleasure. She had to force herself to remember that he couldn’t possibly take any pleasure from hearing her incite his men to mutiny. Into the awkward silence, he said, “As you say, I couldn’t possibly do it myself. So after the sale goes through, Albin brings in his own men and they get paid for doing it.” He lifted his shoulder off the tree trunk. “Good morning, Salcie. Trying a new technique?” She had no answer to that, but fortunately she didn’t seem to need one. The men rose to their feet, standing between her and Cristian. Before her view was blocked completely, she thought she saw irritation pass across his face. And then Bogdan said, “Cristian, we’re not happy about cutting down the wood.” “I know that,” Cristian’s even voice replied. “But it will be done, with or without you. Remember that as you make your decision. Go and have an early lunch break and think about it.” As they cleared off, shuffling uncomfortably and muttering, Salcie rose to her feet, ready to face him. Around her the trees were silent, but she picked up the strength of their fear and antipathy to Cristian. In Kerq, the big tree behind her, it amounted to hatred. That was something she’d have to deal with too, but more immediately, she had to brave Cristian’s anger against herself.

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She couldn’t read his expression as he walked toward her. The pulse in her throat began to jump again. Cristian came to a halt less than a foot away from her. Salcie braced herself. He said, “Where did you go last night?” Salcie blinked. He didn’t sound angry at all. What was going on? “Home,” she said vaguely. His lip twitched. “Without your clothes?” His hand lifted. He touched the collar of her shirt and his knuckles brushed against her neck, making her breath catch. “Clothes seem an unnecessary obsession.” “It’s what’s under yours that’s obsessing me.” “It didn’t seem to obsess you last night. You sent me away.” “I didn’t expect you to go.” “Because you think I’m a gypsy, you don’t believe I have feelings to hurt?” “Everyone has feelings to hurt.” “Even trees.” To her surprise, the skin around his eyes crinkled charmingly as he smiled. “You don’t give up, do you? So why did you run away last night?” “Maybe I balked in the end at giving myself to a man who didn’t respect me.” Surprise flickered in his eyes which continued to scan hers without blinking. “How did you work that out?” “I talked about love. You talked about fucking me.” His eyes darkened as they had last night. Yet somewhere in the blackness, tiny flames seemed to dance. Salcie’s heart hammered, sending sparks of memory and desire straight to her womb. Cristian said, “That was respect. Honesty.” “I never heard you use such a word to Violeta.” She hadn’t meant to say the name, but almost to her surprise, he didn’t walk away. “I didn’t use a lot of words to Violeta. She was -- inhibiting.”

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A smile began to grow inside Salcie, one of understanding, excitement and a very odd happiness. “You get off on talking dirty?” Breathless laughter caught in his throat. “A little, sometimes. And I do very badly want to fuck you.” Again, his hand lifted, pushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. Her whole body burned at his words. Instinctively she turned her cheek into his hand and at the first touch she gasped. “I want to rip that ugly shirt off your beautiful body and make you come just by gazing at you. I want to hold your breasts in both my hands and kiss your nipples until they’re like warm pebbles under my tongue. I want to feel your skin burn and your pussy weep. I want to push my fingers deep inside you, to find the places that give you the most pleasure. I want to taste you. I want to fuck you in the sunshine, in the open, where no one can see us, but anybody could. I want to push my cock so far inside you, you scream…” “Do it,” she whispered. Her whole body was trembling, burning. If he didn’t touch her now, she would die. “Do what?” he asked huskily. “All of it.” The words tumbled into her mouth from nowhere, almost as if they’d bypassed her brain. “The holding, the kissing, the pushing, the fucking… Let me hold your cock, let me squeeze it hard and thrust it deep inside me. Let me writhe on it and ride you until you come so hard that the trees shake… Oh!” She gasped as with one sharp tug, he ripped her shirt open. Another yank and it lay in a pool of white on the ground. His hands were on her naked shoulders, kneading while his gaze devoured every inch of her, returning at last to her face. Trembling, she met the naked lust in his wild eyes, frightened at last of the storm she’d provoked. But when his lips curved into a smile, still voracious, still predatory, yet curiously tender, her fears evaporated. Slowly, he drew her against him and took her mouth.

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The storm grew cataclysmic. Naked in his arms, she surrendered completely to her passion. There was nothing else in the world but her need, and his. His hands on her naked back, sliding down over her buttocks, pulling her fiercely against his formidable erection, drew responses from all over her body. She rubbed her breasts against his shirt, wishing it weren’t there, that she could feel his naked skin on her aching nipples. Her mouth was lost in his, blindly, passionately returning his kisses. When he slid one hand around to cup her breast and squeeze it, she moaned aloud. He pinched her nipple between finger and thumb, stroking it over and over into a long, hard peak while he ground his cock between her thighs. In one last attempt at sanity, she spoke desperately into his mouth. “I still won’t let you cut down the trees.” “I still won’t let you stop me,” he said huskily, biting her lower lip. “But I will fuck you among them first.” She was swept off her feet, pressed into the soft, springy earth. She could hear the roots throbbing, feel her brothers’ confused excitement before she deliberately shut them out. Cristian had his jeans off and had fallen on her, kissing her breasts as he had promised, and she had never imagined anything could feel as good as her nipple rolling between his lips, lashed by his tongue, grazed by his teeth. Bucking beneath him, she clutched his bottom in her hands, desperately trying to pull him closer. His knee parted her legs, spreading them wide, and at last she felt the blunt, silky head of his cock pressing among the wet folds between. Her opening throbbed and contracted, as if trying to catch him and pull him in, and suddenly he was there. His cock pushed, and she gasped as it slid in. He groaned and pushed again. This time, it came all the way in, past all involuntary resistance to the moist, hot welcome. He paused, staring at her, a flood of astonishment and guilt and wonder filling his eyes. “Are you…?” “A virgin? Oh, not anymore,” she gasped with gratitude. “Are you fucking me now?”

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“Oh yes,” he said fervently, moving within her. “Oh yes…” It was fast and furious. Touchingly, he seemed to try and remain gentle, even to slow the pace after discovering her unlikely inexperience, but she wouldn’t let him. Her body, in the throes of the mating she had been born for, would allow no let-up. His every tiny movement brought her exquisite pleasure. Every big one rocked her with ecstasy. And she clamored urgently for more. In the end he held on to her buttocks so he could hammer her faster without punting her across the grass. And the feel of his hands there, squeezing, seemed to meet up with the wild caresses of his cock inside, and suddenly the whole world exploded in a climax of such intense joy that Salcie was sure she was dying. Then, still lost in her blissful convulsions, she heard Cristian’s soft groans grow louder, into a shout so powerful and agonized she thought he was dying, and knew a moment of wild panic before she realized, with awe, that it was his own sexual climax, that he had found it with her, and that his hot, glorious seed was spurting up inside her in powerful jets. Reaching with her mouth, she seized his lips again and kissed him, achingly until the world came slowly back into focus. When their mouths parted at last, he lay heavily, sweetly on her. His eyes were misty with satisfied passion. Sunlight glinted between locks of his tumbling dark hair. Salcie wanted to weep with happiness. All the hurdles she still had to overcome seemed minor now that this great miracle had happened -- she had mated with her life-partner. He had climaxed inside her, given her his precious seed. “No words now?” he said softly. “Dirty or otherwise?” “No. No words now.” He kissed her mouth, holding her face between his big hands, and deep inside her, his cock began to throb. Low laughter bubbled up inside her, and this time when he released her lips, he was grinning in return, suddenly an oversized, mischievous boy. “So how would you feel about lying here with me all day?” “Just lying?”

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“Lying; kissing; fucking,” he said, suiting actions to each word, and adding a second “fucking” for good measure when she moaned. “Well,” she purred. “I might like that.” Around them the trees stirred lazily in the breeze. Birds sang and chattered in their branches, and farther away, up the hill from the lovers, came the sound of a motor starting. A power tool.

Chapter Six Salcie froze. She stared up at Cristian in sudden, unspeakable horror. “You wouldn’t,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t what?” Abruptly, she pushed him, violently. Taken by surprise, he rolled off her and she scrambled to her feet. “You bastard!” she raged. “You total, utter bastard! You think you can distract me down here by screwing me, while your men cut down the trees? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think you were that special?” He is that special, oh, he is! But I still can’t let him kill them… “Salcie.” As she backed away from him, he began to pull on his jeans. “Salcie, they’re not cutting.” When she just stared at him, still backing off, he rose and came after her. Despite her awful suspicion, she couldn’t help watching the movement of his open jeans, just revealing the sexy top of his pubic hair. “They’re still fixing the tools. Sounds like another one’s working. Why are you so angry?” She stepped back once more, stumbling into the trunk of a tree. It was Kerq. Cristian walked after her, still talking. “You meant to do the same to me yesterday, didn’t you?” “What?” She was confused, uncertain. He was too close again, his groin just touching her. She swallowed. “I don’t know. I was overwhelmed, meeting you like that, trying to save them… Do you swear to me, Cristian?” Are any of you in danger? Are they really just testing the tools? They’re in the clearing, nowhere near us, came back the answer. Yet, said Kerq, ominously.

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Yet, she agreed. In the meantime, Cristian was rubbing his still hard cock suggestively against her, pressing her back into the tree, into Kerq. “I swore to you I would still cut down the trees. I meant it, but it won’t be this morning.” It could have been a lie. Yet it didn’t seem like the Cristian she knew. She wanted to believe in the basic honesty of the man caressing her breast, pushing his knee between her parted legs, stroking her hip, her thigh with his knowing hand. She wanted him to carry on. She wanted him to love her again. Fuck her again, whatever it was he did to her, she wanted it, all of it, now… She gasped as his clever fingers parted her wet, swollen labia, and again as one finger slid inside her. Watching her the whole time, he began to explore, stroking the walls of her pussy, reaching further inside her until she cried out and he smiled. “There it is,” he said softly, and stroked the spot again. Salcie writhed, pushing onto his hand. Smiling, he withdrew his finger and she gave a little mewl of disappointment. Reaching down instinctively, she delved inside his jeans for his cock and squeezed it. His breath hissed out. Slowly, deliberately, he began to rub her own body’s juices into her areola. Then he bent and licked her nipple. Salcie closed her eyes, leaned her head back against Kerq’s trunk. Cristian’s big, heavily veined cock throbbed in her hand as she pushed it between her legs. Cristian straightened, and when she thrust him inside her, he pushed forward too, growling deep in his chest, slamming her back into the tree trunk. Kerq said grimly, I’ll pay him back for this, too. Shut up, gasped Salcie, and blocked the Botan out once more. This time there was no talking, just a breathless, desperate striving for completion as Cristian ground her into the tree and she pushed back, gyrating on his cock. Somewhere in the mad rush for the ultimate pleasure, he remained aware of her needs, for he made sure she got there first before he let himself go. As he lost control, he

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slumped to one side of her, leaning his forehead and one hand against the tree to support himself. His eyes were closed. Salcie kept hers open, even through the height of her orgasm, every glimpse of his delight heightening hers. Cristian’s hand -- the one not holding on to the tree -- had fisted in her hair, and was convulsively winding her hair through his fingers as he came, his palm pressing into her cheek. Salcie loved that tenderness, almost more than the fucking. Something brushed against her breast. Trying to focus through her joy, she thought it was wispy branches of the tree, only it felt like flesh, like fingers. It was. A hand lay on her breast. On both her breasts, reaching round from behind, pressing tightly, squeezing. Cristian slammed hard into her one last time and she fell over the edge again, lost in the wickedness of his cock inside her and the strange hands caressing her breasts. Only as the madness of orgasm began to fade did sense return. Kerq! The hands vanished. Cristian turned her face up to his. His eyes blazed with dark lust; his whole expression was predatory, possessive. “God, you’re amazing,” he said, his voice still breathless. “How about we try to make the next one last…” Before she could speak or move, guilt swept over his face. “But I can wait. You must be sore -I wasn’t as gentle as I should have been…” “I’m not sore,” she said quickly. She didn’t care whether or not she was. She wanted him again. She wanted him forever. But suddenly she needed to get him out of the wood. Kerq and possibly some of the others were rapidly approaching pollisexation, and she needed to talk to Cristian urgently. “Cristian, Cristian, we have time for that, all the time in the world,” she said, catching his face as he bent to kiss her again. “We need to talk… let’s go back to your house. You can tell me why you want to cut down the trees and I’ll tell you why you mustn’t…”

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Bafflement and a quick spurt of irritation passed across his face. He didn’t want to think about the trees. He wanted her again. Salcie rejoiced in his urgency, and she couldn’t resist adding by way of an incentive, “And then you can fuck me some more.” He grinned wolfishly. “Done.”

*** Driving back to the house, Cristian found it hard to keep his attention on the road. Part of him was absorbed in a fantasy of the mysterious girl next to him sitting instead in his lap as he drove, distracting him by doing amazingly naughty things with his cock, maybe even sitting on it and riding it… Not that she showed any signs of trying to distract him. On the contrary, she kept her distance in the passenger seat, looking around her with awed fascination, as if she had never been in a motor vehicle before. Her hands gripped the sides of the seat as if for security, and she gasped aloud at every bump in the road. Cristian himself seemed to be quite far down her list of priorities. There she sat with those luscious long legs protruding from his scanty shirt, as if totally unaware of the effect of all that smooth, milky flesh on her male companion. He’d had her twice in quick succession in the woods. And all it had done was given him a taste for her. His cock was still rock hard in his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and make love to her all afternoon. And then probably all night too. She was addictive. And he knew he was worse than stupid to get involved with her. He knew nothing about her, but if she really was a gypsy, he was already in deep trouble. She would have family to object to her treatment, and quite rightly too. He had no business indulging his base lusts with a strange virgin -- even one who walked naked around his land and who offered herself so provocatively. And what was that all about? Cristian was well aware that compared with most of Europe or America, Romanian women kept very strict sexual morals. Here, sex before marriage was still frowned upon. Naturally it still happened -- as it had with

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Violeta -- but Salcie was so blatant it was as if normal social custom had completely passed her by. And yet she knew him. She knew things about him, and Violeta. But he was sure he had never seen her in the village. He would have remembered her. Everyone would have remembered her! It was only a short drive to the house, and she didn’t speak during it. Neither did Cristian. Stopping the truck in the yard, he jumped out and went around to help Salcie, who appeared to be wrestling with the door mechanism. She laughed when he opened it so easily and jumped willingly into his arms to be lifted down. Cristian, almost undone by the feel of all that beautiful, warm flesh in his arms, knew a ridiculous reluctance to put her down and let her walk. He led the way to the back door and into the kitchen where he set about making coffee. Most women he knew would have tried to take over at that stage, criticizing the contents of his fridge and the state of his sink. Salcie sat on the edge of the table, swinging one long, plump leg, her head tilted to one side as she observed his activity with the same fascination she had accorded the inside of the truck. And when he handed her the strong, thick coffee, she tasted it as if it were a novelty. “Salcie,” he said, sitting astride a chair in front of her, with his arms resting along its back. “Salcie, you’re the sexiest creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, but I have to tell you, you’re strange.” She actually grinned at that, acknowledging the truth of his statement with a nod. She sipped the coffee and wrinkled her nose. “I preferred the wine.” “It’s a bit early for that.” “Oh.” Her brow cleared as if her memory had suddenly confirmed his assertion. Then, as her eyes came back into focus they softened. “Cristian -- Cristian, why is it so necessary to go away? Just to avoid Violeta?” “No.” He knew his smile was twisted. “The thing with Violeta just made me realize how -- constricted I am here.”

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“Constricted here? But, Cristian, you found the city constricting! It was why you came home!” So it was. Fully qualified, he hadn’t been able to wait to escape the crowds and the enclosed environment of the city. The big and beautiful buildings whose construction fascinated him had hemmed him in unbearably. It was a different sort of constricted than he felt here in Diaconu, but she was right. He had said that. More surprising was the fact that she knew it. “Salcie, how do you know these things?” he asked curiously. “What things?” she asked, without much conviction. “What I’ve said to family and friends, about Violeta and me. I’m sure I never laid eyes on you before yesterday…” She smiled. “Yes, you did. Nearly every day of your life. Apart from when you went away to study.” “Trust me,” he said positively. “I’d have remembered you.” “Then how do you account for the fact that I know you?” “I can’t. I’m asking you to account for it.” She thought for a moment. “I used to look a bit different.” “How different?” “Oh -- like a tree. The willow at the bottom of your garden.” “My Salcie,” he said, reaching out despite himself to stroke her smooth, warm knee. Her leg moved under his caress and he slid his hand higher, where the skin was hotter and silkier. His semi hard-on began to grow again. “Exactly. And the wood, the trees that you want to cut down, they are like me.” “But I remember them perfectly,” he said dryly. “You only think you do. Cristian, would you cut me down, kill me?” “Don’t be silly, you know I wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head!” She smiled warmly and her legs parted involuntarily, just a little more so that his hand could almost reach the moist tenderness at their juncture.

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“What about strangers?” she asked. “A crowd of people in a city street. If you knew you could make money by killing them -- and not be punished by the law -would you do it?” Cristian stared at her, his questing hand still now. “Of course not. What is this, Salcie? Why are you suddenly afraid I’m some sort of psycho-killer?” “Oh no, I don’t think you are at all. Which is why -- one of the reasons why! -I’m trying to stop you from behaving like one -- unwittingly.” Glimmerings of understanding filtered through Cristian’s brain. He didn’t know whether to be amused, impressed, or annoyed. “Salcie, is this about the trees again?” She nodded. “Yes. Those trees -- the ones in the wood -- are more than you think them. They’re like me.” He smiled. “No, they’re not. They’re tall and skinny and grumpy trees. You are round and beautiful and sweet and you make me laugh. Like the willow at the bottom of my garden.” She smiled back, as if delighted by his understanding. “It’s true we have different natures. And, mostly, different sexes. I think of them as my brothers. So I often want to slap them, even while I look after them. Much, I suppose, as Dorina was -- is! -with you.” “Okay, you have an affinity with the trees, I get that. But there are other trees.” “That’s silly. You wouldn’t kill people on the grounds that it doesn’t matter because there are lots of other people in the world!” “Salcie, they are not people!” She might make him laugh, but talking to her was sometimes more than a little frustrating. He began to wonder if they could skip the rest of the talk and go straight to the fucking. And yet, there was something serious in her eyes that held his wicked hand still between her thighs. She said, “Yes, they are. They are people, Cristian. Like me.” She took a deep breath. “You think I’m one of those strange ‘tree hugger’ people that I’ve heard you make fun of. I’m not -- although they do have several good points worth paying attention to. I am a tree.”

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Cristian began to feel a little uncomfortable. She was starting to sound not just strange and mysterious but positively insane. He wanted to stop her, to keep his illusions, but he didn’t know how to shut her up, short of kissing her as a prelude to screwing her on the kitchen table. And while he more than liked that idea, he knew instinctively it was the wrong time. Sighing, he removed his hand from her thigh, and drank his coffee instead. “Not like most trees,” she said, as if anxious to keep him with her. “In fact, I’m not native to this planet at all.” “Well, you do seem a little unworldly,” he joked uneasily, “but…” “I come from a planet called Botanea. It’s dying. I was brought to Earth along with thousands of other seedlings to save our race. We were scattered across the planet to take root and grow to maturity. I can’t quite remember how, but there was some accident and I was dropped here, away from others of my kind, so I didn’t even know my brothers in your wood until yesterday.” It was as if someone had lobbed a brick into his stomach. He felt sick with pity and disappointment. And he knew the guilt would come later. He had taken unforgivable advantage of a mentally disturbed girl and there was no excuse. The evidence had been there all along, if only he’d had the gumption to look. But he’d let his cock do the thinking -- again. Just as it had with Violeta. But this was different. With Violeta he had hurt only himself. “Salcie,” he whispered. “Oh, Salcie, I am so sorry…” Reaching up he caught her head gently between his hands and she smiled, bringing her face down to rest on the top of his head. “It’s all right. Everything is all right now. I knew you would understand.” “Salcie… where is your family?” She lifted her head. “My family? My biological parents are back on Botanea, probably dead by now,” she said sadly. “My only family is the wood by the lake.” Cristian closed his eyes. Christ, this was painful. “I mean -- where do you live? Where did you travel from to come here?”

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She frowned. “From the bottom of your garden. I told you that. And before that, from Botanea.” “Of course,” Cristian said helplessly. He stood up. “Look, shall we find you some better clothes? There’s some stuff of my sister’s in her old room. She’d be happy to give them to you. They’re a bit old, of course, but fortunately she’s tall like you…” Salcie allowed herself to be distracted. Cristian left her happily selecting and trying on Dorina’s clothes and went back downstairs. Rubbing one hand down his face in deep thought, he reached for the telephone. By the time he hung up again, Salcie was bouncing downstairs in a pair of baggy jeans that stretched tight across her delectable hips, and a bright yellow top that had difficulty holding in her luscious breasts. She had brushed her long, chestnut hair until it shone about her face like a kind of dark halo. She was still the most beautiful thing Cristian had ever seen. He felt his throat close up with pain. Most of it was for her. “Come with me?” he said, with what sounded in his own ears like fake bonhomie. “Sure,” she said at once, rubbing salt in the wound of his guilt. She trusted him implicitly. “Where to?” “To see a good friend of mine in the village. Stefan.” “Stefan,” she repeated, reaching the foot of the stairs. “Stefan the doctor?” “You know him?” Cristian frowned. “As I know most of your friends. He pushed you out of my branches when you were both little.” Cristian shut his mouth. Unease twisted through him. How did she know things like that? Rattled, he made a mistake. “So he did. But he’s much kinder now. I think he can help you, Salcie.” “Help me?” She paused in front of him, gazing up in puzzlement. Cristian tried to keep his face calm and gentle, as unthreatening as possible. But he had never been much good at keeping secrets. He suspected all his emotions and confusions were

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blazing across his face. His only hope was that Salcie herself could not understand them. A tiny frown formed between her brows. One twitched and she stepped backwards. “You don’t believe me at all,” she said flatly. “You think I’m insane. I knew it had been too easy, but I thought it was because you trusted me…” Her eyes dropped, squeezed shut, but before he could reach for her again she opened them and gazed directly at him. “That wasn’t honest, was it, Cristian? Looks like you fucked me again.” And she turned and walked away to the front door. “Salcie, wait!” But she didn’t wait. She already had the door open before he caught it in his big hand, blocking her exit. “Where are you going?” “To talk to my brothers.” “Salcie,” he began helplessly, and then broke off. Her eyes were full of unshed tears. Only one drop trickled down her cheek and for some reason that solitary tear broke his heart. The door bumped against his head. Salcie slid through the space and slammed it. He only just managed to get his fingers out of the way in time. In a weird atmosphere of déjà vu, Cristian wrenched open the door and went after her. Just like last night, the garden was empty and there was no sign of her in the street. How the hell does she do that? Once more, he started up the side of the house, past the yard where his empty truck stood and into the back garden. She wasn’t there either. He would have seen the bright yellow of her shirt if nothing else. Instead, the garden looked curiously empty. Bereft. Cristian tugged at his hair in frustration. He would have to go to the wood to find her, and hope she hadn’t been lying about heading there. But what the hell was he meant to do then? He couldn’t force her to go to Stefan for help. And yet this was way beyond him. He couldn’t help her. He’d already done her enough damage.

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He’d have to try and talk to her again. Understand where this alien tree thing was coming from. If he drove up to the lake, he might catch her as she arrived by the river path… He was already climbing into the truck when it struck him why the garden looked so different, so empty. Slowly, he dropped his foot back down to the ground and turned to gaze across the length of the garden, down toward the river. The willow wasn’t there.

Chapter Seven She found Kerq easily. His mind was emitting so much noise she thought they could probably hear him across continents. Not just telepathically either. Kerq was trying out his new vocal cords. “I am Kerq!” he was shouting aloud in the language of the local natives. “And look, I can walk, I can jump, I can go where I like!” “Congratulations,” Salcie said dryly. “But perhaps you might like to be a bit quieter? You’ll have every human for miles around coming to investigate the racket.” “Who cares?” Kerq swung round, a tall, lean man with yellow-fair hair. A huge grin split his sharp face as he gazed at her. “Salcie! I have achieved pollisexation. I am the Elder Wood!” “Congratulations,” she said again, and dropped into his hands the bundle of clothes she’d had the foresight to pinch from a couple of washing lines on the way. It had only involved a minor detour. In faint bewilderment, Kerq gazed at the clothes, then at Salcie, who said practically, “It will take you awhile to adjust, but I suspect some of your brothers are not far behind you, so you must be ready to help them.” “Help them?” “You are the Elder Wood,” she said impatiently. “You’ve won more than a race, Kerq. It’s your responsibility to look after this community now, lead them…” “I know that,” he said disdainfully. He dropped the clothes onto the ground and for a moment stood proudly before her. There was no doubt he liked his human body. Long and lean, he was good-looking enough. His penis stood out, semi-erect. It would spend a lot of time like that, she thought compassionately, until he found his mate and some true sexual satisfaction. “Do you like this body, Salcie?”

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“Sure. It’s a very handsome body,” she said kindly. In fact, it was too thin for her taste. He looked as if he would break in a strong wind. And you couldn’t cuddle something so bony. Not like Cristian’s big, solid shape. Cristian, she thought, as the anguish pushed its way to the fore once more. How can you be my mate and I not yours? Is that to be the pain of my life? “Good,” said Kerq, and she blinked as his cock grew before her eyes. It was long and thin like himself, not thick like Cristian’s. Without warning he reached for her. “Take these things off and let us mate. My body is starving!” “Yes, well, mine isn’t!” Salcie said indignantly, pushing him off. “I am not your mate!” “You must be,” Kerq said with devastating simplicity. “There’s no other female around.” Salcie continued to ward him off. “It doesn’t work that way. You’ll recognize her when you meet her.” “How do you know that? You’re only a day older than I! Besides, you coupled with the human male -- I saw you, remember? And as I recall, you climaxed to my touch.” “It was a bit of extra arousing wickedness,” she confessed. “But actually it was Cristian’s touch I climaxed to. Put the clothes on, Kerq, in case anyone comes, and tell me what you plan to do.” Reluctantly, Kerq bent and began to pull on the trousers. They were black and close-fitting -- though unfortunately they only came to just below his knees. Kerq pulled on the shirt too. It was a smock of the type the local farmers wore. Regarding himself a little dubiously, he said, “What I plan to do is chase the humans out of the area. After I punish those who would have killed me.” Salcie’s mouth fell open. Kerq, apparently taking this as a sign of awe, grinned at her. Just as someone strode out of the trees onto their path. Salcie’s heart skipped a beat and seemed to plunge straight down through her stomach to the tender places between her legs. In spite of his crass stupidity, his

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moronic intention to take her to a doctor, and his determination to destroy her fellow Botans, there was something immensely comforting in the very sight of him striding toward her. His big body moved surprisingly swiftly, with a natural grace most smaller men lacked. His bare arms were thick and strong and she remembered only too well how they felt around her. Kerq turned, following her gaze, and gave a low, menacing growl. He took two steps toward Cristian, building up to a run before Salcie caught him by the arm. “Don’t even think it!” she warned. “You’re newly changed. He knows a lot better what to do with his body!” Kerq strained against her for another instant, then relaxed. “And besides,” he agreed reluctantly, “he has the whole village behind him. Until the others awake, I only have you.” “No, you don’t, Kerq. I am solitary, remember?” Kerq frowned at her in irritation, but there was no time for more. Cristian ran the last few yards toward them, his eyes skimming over Kerq between more thorough scans of herself. He looked oddly distraught. “Salcie? Are you all right?” “I’m fine. This is Kerq, my brother. Or cousin? Who knows?” Cristian flicked her a faint, involuntary smile of amusement before he held out his big, calloused hand to Kerq. “Cristian Zaranesti,” he said casually, polite but distracted. Kerq lifted his head and sneered. “I know who you are.” Cristian dropped his rejected hand. He shrugged and turned back to Salcie. “What’s going on? Where’s my willow tree?” “Hang on,” she said, delving into her jeans pocket, turning it inside out. “Don’t be funny,” Cristian said harshly. “You can’t just cut down trees in this country!” “That’s what I say.”

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Cristian swept one hand across his head, his fingers clawing through his wild hair. “What sort of elaborate hoax is this?” “None,” said Salcie tiredly. “Do you remember this place, Cristian?” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Of course I do. We made love here this morning. Twice.” In spite of herself, her body flushed hotly with the memory. Annoyingly her voice even shook slightly as she said, “Think of the second time. Point to the tree you screwed me up against.” Still holding her gaze, Cristian pointed to his left. “Look,” Salcie urged. He did. And when he saw no trace of the tree he was looking for, he glared wildly round the others, as though re-thinking his sense of direction or expecting it to be hidden away. “Kerq is that tree.” “Oh, please!” Cristian exclaimed. “The days of gullible peasants are long gone! Are you stealing from me? Do you work for Albin?” “Now you’re being ridiculous,” Salcie said calmly. He stared at her. For an instant fury stared out of his face. She had only once seen him truly angry and it wasn’t an experience she had any desire to repeat. She certainly didn’t want it directed at her. But before she could even try and think of a way to deflect it, his eyes suddenly lightened. Something that might have been a choked off laugh issued from his mouth and was quickly smothered. “Of course I am,” he agreed cordially. “Okay, Salcie, you win. Come and talk ridiculous with me. My men have the whole day off.” With barely a nod at Kerq, he seized her by the wrist and dragged her off in the direction of the river. Salcie elected to go without a fight, although Kerq was still clearly spoiling for one. She had to speak harshly in his head to make him behave. I’m fine, Kerq! I’m trying to sort this mess out! You stay here, wait for any of the others to wake and try to think of a sensible plan! You have to live with the humans!

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At first Cristian strode along, his speed reflecting the unquiet of his mind. But then his fingers slid down her wrist to clasp her hand and gradually, when she didn’t pull away, he seemed to calm. He said abruptly, “The roots were gone. No willow, no stump, no roots. I’m beginning to think it’s not you but me who’s mad. Perhaps the willow never existed.” Salcie said nothing. “And the tree where I fucked you. There was no sign of a stump there either. I’ll bet the roots have gone from that one. There’s just a patch of loose, moist earth, isn’t there?” Salcie nodded. He glanced at her. “How did you do it?” “You know how, Cristian. You believe me now.” “I have to believe one of us is insane. Or criminal, though I can’t even see the point of that.” “There wouldn’t be one. The only criminal act would be to cut down these trees before they mature enough to move themselves. As Kerq already has.” Almost reluctantly, Cristian said, “There may be another criminality here. Why Albin is so keen for me to cut down the trees. I think he may have lied to get the permission of the Forest and Environment people. I think he may have told them all the trees in the wood were sick, not just the two at the top of the hill. And I think he may have bribed a few people not to investigate too closely.” “Have you just worked this out?” “No,” he admitted. “I’ve always been suspicious. But I didn’t want to know. I told myself the document was all I needed. But he doesn’t trust this not to come back and bite, so he wants me to carry the can.” “And you were prepared to.” He was silent a moment, then, “I guess I wasn’t thinking too straight.” She leaned briefly against his shoulder. “And now that you are thinking straight, you find yourself walking hand in hand with an alien plant-person from another planet. Isn’t life perverse?”

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A breath of laughter shook him and she felt his fingers clasp hers more warmly. “I hate to say it, but you’re good for me, Salcie.” I know. Unbidden, a lump of tears constricted her throat, but she wouldn’t cry now, just as they were about to reach a new understanding. She asked quietly, “What will you do?” “I don’t know yet. But it’s true what I told the men. If I don’t cut down the trees, Albin will do it himself. This project is worth too much to him. He’ll risk it.” Only if the land is his. Only if you sell it to him. But she didn’t say the words aloud and neither did he. Just for a few minutes, Salcie thought, she could give her brain a rest and just feel. The warmth of his touch on her skin, the firm grip of his fingers, the closeness of his big, exciting body. He smelled of the outdoors, clean, earthy and something peculiarly Cristian that she had always associated with him and only with him. It made every nerve end tingle, spreading peace as well as the pleasant zing of gentle arousal. Salcie had travelled this river path several times now, sometimes in acute anxiety, sometimes in depression, generally at high speed. Now for the first time, she could take in the beauty of the river scenery as they rounded the bend, the rolling ranges of hills and woods in the distance. She could appreciate the distant calling of children’s voices, the placid groans of cattle and the occasional outraged squawks of nearby chickens. It was a beautiful place, a natural place full of, mainly, good people. Especially Cristian. It seemed to Salcie, fancifully, that even the birds sang for Cristian that afternoon. Although they hardly spoke as they walked, it was as if some invisible thread drew them closer. They moved in harmony, each knowing where the other’s foot would fall, precisely when they would turn away from the river and enter Cristian’s garden. They both knew he would pause where the willow used to be. For a moment, they gazed at the loose, bare earth, already drying in the hot sun. Then he cast his gaze up to hers, and his smile was a little crooked. It made her heart turn over.

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They both knew they would talk about it now. How far along the road to belief he was didn’t matter right now. His hand slid up her arm, making her shiver, and lay around her shoulders. They walked up to the house and in the back door. Dorina sat inside the kitchen, glaring at them.

Chapter Eight “I borrowed your clothes,” Salcie blurted. “Cristian said you wouldn’t mind, but I can easily…” “Of course I don’t mind,” Dorina said hastily, jumping to her feet to stop her unlacing the top. “I’m very glad to lend you them.” She looked slightly surprised by her own words and Cristian laughed. Reluctantly, Dorina let out a small smile of her own. “This is Salcie,” Cristian said. Dorina looked from him, back to Salcie, and frowned. Then, quite suddenly, her frown cleared. “Are you the reason he insists on going to Bucharest?” she demanded, and without waiting for an answer hurried on. “But if you are, what the hell was Violeta?” “Violeta was a mistake,” Cristian said calmly, and Salcie felt her body warm from the soles of her feet up. “One which I suspect we’re both still paying for.” “You might be. She isn’t. Her kind never pays for anything. But I’m glad to hear you admit it at last.” Dorina stared at Salcie. Salcie, full of renewed hope, stared back happily. “So, you’ve forgiven him? For Violeta?” “Oh yes,” said Salcie, feeling laughter gurgle up in her throat. “Okay.” Dorina grabbed her bag from the kitchen table, preparing to leave. Whatever she’d come for seemed to be forgotten. Or, perhaps, redundant. As she swung round to the door, she glanced back at Salcie. “Take him to Bucharest then. But don’t take him away from us. And if he needs to sell the land, don’t let him sell it to Albin.” Salcie remembered she had always rather liked Dorina. Blunt, quick-tempered, full of common sense and well-hidden good nature.

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Cristian complained, “Why do women assume men can’t think for themselves?” “Women know which part of your body you think with,” Dorina retorted and shut the door behind her with a satisfied clunk. Cristian glanced at Salcie, his smile slightly twisted. “I don’t think with it, you know. It just leads me astray sometimes.” “It led you to me. Is that astray?” He lifted his hands to her face and his touch was so tender she wanted to weep. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s either so far astray that I’ll never get back. Or it’s home.” On the last word, he covered her mouth with his, and suddenly both their brains were willing accomplices in their bodies’ decisions. Cristian lifted her into his arms, striding from the kitchen, along the hallway and upstairs. By the time he pushed open the door to his bedroom, her jeans were unzipped and her top was half off her shoulder to reveal most of one breast. Cristian made a noise like an animal growl, deep in his throat. But he didn’t throw her on the bed. There was none of the slamming and quick, desperate striving of the morning. He laid her on the bed as if she were something precious, continued to kiss her while he gently, slowly removed her clothes. Even then, when his hands were everywhere, as if they couldn’t get enough of her, it was done slowly and with a new wonder that captivated her. His own clothes he shrugged off hastily without her help, and at last she could see and touch the whole of his big, magnificent body. She ran her fingers over his thick, muscled arms, around his broad shoulders and down his back and hips. A big man, a well-nourished man, her perfect partner. With agonizing slowness, he began to kiss her from the top of her head downwards, lingering over her mouth and her breasts, his hands busy all the while finding new places for his mouth to visit next. It almost felt like an act of worship, and though she was anxious to please him in the same way, she waited breathlessly to see where this would lead.

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Her body on fire from his caresses, she arched her hips upwards as he licked her belly button. His hair fell across her tummy, tickling further, and she thought she could never know greater happiness. Especially not with greater lust. Her body would explode soon if he didn’t take her, if he didn’t sink his huge cock deep within her very, very soon. She could feel it against her thigh, her knee, but when she tried to reach for it, he pushed her gently back onto the pillow and continued his slow, ravishing assault on her body. Her whole pussy pulsed as his lips found her inner thigh, tracing a line of sweet, hot kisses along the crease and moving languidly inward. Salcie gasped as his tongue touched the wet folds of her labia. Involuntarily, she pushed up into his mouth, and he parted the petals surrounding the swollen bud at her center. She writhed sensuously under his lips as they brushed her most sensitive places, as his tongue teased and lapped. And when he closed his lips around her clitoris and sucked, she thought she would explode. He released her before it got that far, but only to continue pleasuring the same place with teasing tongue and teeth. She moaned, clutching his head in both hands when his finger slid inside her. His finger caressed, his mouth sucked, and the joy built to an impossible crescendo, tearing her apart. As if from very far away she heard her own gasping cries, the moans of agonized delight and wonder that she couldn’t keep in. Somehow, they fed her bliss, and they seemed to feed his too, because he wouldn’t stop. He grasped her buttocks in his hands to hold her steady and kept up his tender assault on her pussy, throwing her from orgasm to orgasm without mercy. At last, her arms flung out above her head to grasp the headboard. Almost unconscious, she felt him release her ravaged clitoris. His fingers slid slowly out of her passage and up along the length of her labia, making her moan and writhe again. Panting, she stared at him. He was smiling voraciously as he wiped her juices from his face onto her thigh. Lifting it, he placed her ankle on his shoulder, rising to his

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knees between her thighs. His rigid cock stood out proud and huge, its head purple, its veins thick and blue. Unbelievably, after what it had been through, her opening contracted and pulsed for him. She reached up with her other leg, locking ankles around his neck, drawing him in, sliding her feet down to hold him by the waist. His grin widened and he plunged into her without further warning. Incredibly, his cock dragged fresh sparks of pleasure with it, reigniting the flames. He fucked her hard, talking now, telling her how tight and beautiful her pussy was, how good it felt clamped around his cock, so hot and wet for him. He described the feel of her breasts under his hands as he rode her, urging her to come for him, demanding it, and as she did, wildly, unstoppably, he spilled his seed into her with a shout that should have broken windows.

*** Cristian said, “You must have been very lonely.” He was half sitting, half lounging against the pillows, sipping wine. Salcie lay with her cheek on his chest as he languidly stroked her hair. “I didn’t really know anything else. I lived through what went on around me. And I think I really grew up with you and Dorina.” She smiled, moving her head to glance up at him mischievously. “I always wanted to do this with you, even before I knew why. It was desire for you that pushed me over into pollisexation.” “There’s a point,” Cristian said frowning. “Can we have children?” Somewhere in the closeness of the previous hours, he had lost his skepticism. Almost naturally, he had come to accept the truth. “Oh yes,” said Salcie happily. His eyes widened. His Adam’s apple wobbled as he swallowed. “What kind of children? Will they grow in your womb? In the earth?” “In me.” “We used no protection. My brain switched off today. I’m so sorry, Salcie…”

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“Sorry!” Dismayed, she lifted her head off his chest to see him properly. “You’re sorry?” “Not sorry we made love,” he said hastily. “Christ, how could I be sorry about that? You’re incredible… I’m sorry I forgot to behave responsibly.” “Well, I don’t care about that,” she assured him, flattening her palm across his stomach. Outside it was growing dark, but she could still make out every sexy hair leading downward to the source of her joy. “I’ve left my responsibilities behind for the day too.” Who knew what Kerq had got up to? She had kept her mind deliberately closed against him. Warily now, she opened herself. Another of her brothers had wakened too. Silvius. She sensed confusion, disorientation, unfocused anger. If Kerq couldn’t deal with that, she supposed she would have to. But Kerq was the Elder Wood. He should deal with it. She was just glad, for the first time in her life, that she was a solitary and not part of Kerq’s wood. Respect for her Elder Wood would certainly have been an issue. Although she supposed, if she had been part of the wood, as the first to pollisexation, she and not Kerq would have been the Elder Wood… “So what happened to your people? How come you’re here?” “My planet -- Botanea -- was poisoned, polluted. It made the females infertile and our race was dying out. Seq Viren…” She paused over the name. For years now, he had been the only one of her people she remembered and loved. “Seq Viren took such seedlings as there were and sought out a new home for us on another planet. He scattered us in woods and forests all over Earth.” “Where is he now?” “He’s dead. He crashed, far away from here…” Cristian put both arms around her in comfort. She tried to smile. “He was the last being who spoke to me before my brothers in your wood cried for help.” “From me,” Cristian said ruefully. “I’ll sort it out, Salcie… tomorrow,” he added breathlessly, as her questing hand slid back down over his stomach and found his semi erect cock.

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So far the afternoon’s sex had mostly been about Cristian exploring Salcie’s body. Obviously she had no quarrel with that, but the urge was strong now to discover more of his -- particularly the source of his sexual joy and hers. Sliding down out of his arms, she gazed at the growing organ in her hand. Bringing up her other hand to span it completely, she watched it with fascination as it hardened and lengthened, pushing at her fingers. She smiled and drew back the skin, hearing the breath hiss through his teeth. She made him wait, though, while she explored his heavy balls, and his cock itself from its thick root to its silky, weeping head. Butterfly light, she swept a finger across the drops of moisture, caressing the slit they came from. Then, wondering what it would be like for both of them, if she kissed it like a mouth, she bent and did so. And since he liked it so much, she did it for quite a long time.

*** Salcie was vaguely disturbed by a ringing bell. She stirred, opening one eye. Early morning sunlight flooded through the un-shuttered window, bathing the contented face of her lover in light. Emotion swept through her, so intense, so fierce, that it hurt. The bell was still ringing. Downstairs. She thought it was probably the telephone. Cristian moved, drawing her closer into his arms. His cock was still inside her, beginning to grow again. Salcie smiled to herself and stopped worrying about the phone. Clearly Cristian wasn’t. It was a slow awakening, interspersed with drowsing and half-finished caresses. But despite the raw pain between her legs from all the loving she’d already received, it was the most delightful ever. She was about to come yet again when something crashed inside the house and a man’s voice shouted, “Cristian? Cristian, get up, you lazy arse!” Salcie stared desperately into Cristian’s eyes, her hands scrabbling at his naked shoulders.

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“Don’t… I can’t… stop!” she gasped incoherently. Cristian smiled, his face hot and predatory and completely absorbed in her. “Don’t stop,” he whispered, “I won’t.” And as footsteps clumped up the stairs, he continued to fuck her. The joy began to spread, to gallop wildly toward climax. The bedroom door crashed open and she held onto Cristian, biting into his shoulder to smother her cries. He held her close, covering her as he said only a little shakily, “Iancu, you bastard, can’t you knock?” Salcie let the waves of ecstasy sweep her away, her orgasm all the more intense because of its possible discovery by another man, a stranger. This mating was a curious business. If there was more to love than sex, she was beginning to realize there was more to sex than love… From a long way off she heard Iancu say dryly, “I did knock. Loudly. And I rang the bell. Twice. Before that I phoned.” There was a pause, then the stranger added significantly, “I see Dorina didn’t get it wrong.” “Dorina rarely gets it wrong. Unlike you, who have rarely been less welcome. Either shove off, Iancu, or tell me where the fire is.” “All over the village actually,” Iancu said, studiedly casual. “There’s a bunch of drunken gypsies running wild.” That brought Salcie back to earth with a bump. She had a bad feeling about this… Cristian said, “Drunken gypsies? At this time of the morning? Where the hell did they come from?” “Who knows? They robbed the garden shop last night and this morning they’re rioting, breaking windows, kicking rubbish about, terrorizing the village. We could use a hand.” But Cristian had latched onto what Salcie suddenly knew was the salient point. “The garden shop?”

Chapter Nine “It’s them,” Salcie said in despair, as she opened her mind and let them all flood in. “They’re all awake. Or at least lots of them!” Cristian brought his gaze back to her. Slowly, he withdrew from her pussy. “What the hell do they want with a garden shop? Are they going to dig their brothers up?” “I’ll wait downstairs. Hurry up,” said Iancu hastily and effaced himself as Cristian leapt out of bed, Salcie closely following him. Minutes later, the three of them left the house and ran the short distance into the village. Iancu had seemed surprised Cristian was prepared to let Salcie accompany them. “I left Dorina at home with the children. Shutters closed,” he said disapprovingly. “Good,” said Cristian distractedly. “I can help,” Salcie said to Iancu. “At least I hope I can.” “Then you are a gypsy as well? The locals think you’re a tree spirit.” “To my eternal shame,” Salcie said grimly as they approached the village square, “I am what they are.” They sensed her coming, of course, before they saw her. They came running from all directions, from shops and gardens and side-streets, shouting, “Salcie!” and weaving their way across roads to get to her. None of them wore shoes, but they were all dressed in something, however inappropriate -- a smock, shorts, a night-shirt, a flowery print dress, a hat and a T-shirt, all incredibly bright and bizarre in combination. They must have stolen them from washing lines, as she had for Kerq, or perhaps even from the shop or from inside houses.

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“Are they here for you?” Iancu demanded, desperately trying to understand. “Because of him?” He jerked his head at Cristian. “Oh no,” said Salcie. “They’re here for the fertilizer. To all intents and purposes, they’re drunk.” There was a stunned silence on either side of her. Then Cristian began to laugh, silently, only his great shoulders shaking with mirth. Salcie glared at him, as she seized the nearest grinning fool by the arm. “Come on, idiot, back home for you.” She grabbed another by the hand and pulled them both on with her, shouting, “Come with me! All of you! Right now! No exceptions, no delay! Now!” “We love you, Salcie,” said the first one, grinning fatuously up at her. His unfocused gaze landed on Cristian and he frowned. “We hate him, though. He’s a murdering bastard.” “I’ll take them away,” Salcie assured him. “It might be better if you didn’t come. If you come across any of the others, tell them I’m waiting for them in the wood…” “I can’t leave you alone with that lot,” Cristian protested. “They won’t hurt me,” Salcie assured him with a quick smile. “You’ll be more use here, helping these poor people clean up the mess. I’ll deal with mine.” Reaching behind her, she kissed his mouth, briefly, willing him to trust her in this. It seemed he did, for when their lips parted and she moved on, he stayed put, his hand on Iancu’s arm to hold him back too. Salcie trawled through the village with her growing gaggle of drunks, marching them along to the lake and up to the wood. There were many trees still there, so at least they hadn’t all awakened at once and gone on this stupid rampage. “Root yourselves,” she commanded sternly. “And don’t move until you’ve slept this off. Do you have any idea what that stuff does to human bodies? Are you trying to destroy yourselves before you’ve even had a chance to find your mates?” “We thought it would make us strong. We were weak and hungry…”

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“Root yourselves for several hours each day and take the nourishment you’ve always taken! And for the rest -- we have to live in this community! Not alienate it beyond redemption! Where is Kerq?” Naturally, they didn’t know. While they shamefacedly rooted themselves, reverting to the familiar trees of the wood, Salcie looked around her, taking in the many vacant patches of dark, loose earth. She hadn’t rounded up all the shifted trees by any means. And yet there hadn’t appeared to be many more in the village. So where the hell could they have gone? The answer hit her like a hammer blow.

*** The damage in the village wasn’t as bad as it looked. There was a bit of work for the joiner, repairing a couple of windows, and some rubbish scattered about the streets needed to be tidied up before the sun got much hotter. The villagers themselves were more concerned about the intimidation. “Where in hell did they come from? And who’s that woman who took them away? Is she their leader?” “It’s complicated,” said Cristian ruefully. “Her name is Salcie, and let’s just say she’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.” Having stated it, more from instinct than deep thought, he just hoped his trust was justified. So, apparently, did Iancu, who cast him a glance of considerable skepticism. As they left the ransacked gardening shop, Iancu murmured, “I think you may be a little blinkered there, Cristian. Now I wouldn’t care to mess with your lady myself - she’s a whole lot of woman -- but that’s a whole lot of wild young men you’re talking about too!” “I know.” “What is she to them anyhow? And what the hell do they want with all that fertilizer?” “Don’t ask. Look, Iancu, there’s something I’ve got to do now things are quiet here. I’ll leave you to check on Dorina and the kids. I’ll talk to you later on, okay?”

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Without giving his old friend much chance to object, Cristian walked off in the opposite direction to Dorina’s house. It would have been faster to drive, but the truck was still at the lake, and besides, the walk did no harm to his head. He had very little idea how this was all going to end, but there was one thing he had to do immediately. Wadim Albin was building a new house, right on the border with Cristian’s land, and close enough to the proposed lake development that he would be able to hobnob with the rich new owners. Cristian, who had avoided the site up until now, was impressed by the scale of the building going up. Despite the commotion in the village, Albin himself was at the building site, in western T-shirt and jeans, sitting at a fold-away table with a mug of coffee in his hand and a hard hat on his head. He appeared to be contentedly poring over large plans spread out on the table. The workmen ambling around the site were unknown to Cristian. Albin had brought them in from the city. Only as he drew closer did Cristian spot some obvious problems with the big house. Chiefly that it was going to fall down. Probably before it was finished. Albin glanced up as he approached, and smiled. “Zaranesti,” he said jovially, waving one hand toward the building work. “What do you think?” Cristian cast his eyes down at Albin’s plans. If you could call them that. “Which architects are you using?” he asked curiously. Albin’s smile became a sneer. “My own. What’s the matter? Touting for another job, Zaranesti?” “God, no.” Cristian dragged his attention away from the ill-conceived plans. “I’ve come about the land sale.” “Ah. Any joy with those trees yet? Apparently there’s some superstition in the village about woodland spirits.” He snorted. “You want to get some city laborers in.” “It’s irrelevant,” Cristian said. “That’s what I came to tell you. Sorry, but the sale’s off.” There was some petty pleasure in watching Albin’s jaw drop. “What?”

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“I’m not selling, Albin. I’ve changed my mind. You’ll have to build on your own land. Though if you take my advice,” he added with a dubious glance at Albin’s precarious new house, “you’ll employ a different architect.” Albin leapt to his feet, almost knocking the table over, plans and all. “Don’t play stupid, Zaranesti! You know I need the lake view to make this work! Without that, this is just another hick village like a thousand others!” “There are other lakes.” Albin’s eyes narrowed. He took a step closer, deliberately threatening. Cristian almost laughed. He had a reputation for amiability, but he wasn’t so good natured that he wouldn’t enjoy thumping the little weasel. “You’ve found another buyer, is that it? You want it to get around that the noble Cristian Zaranesti’s word counts for nothing?” “There is no other buyer. For the moment, the land will stay in my hands.” Albin thrust his face close into Cristian’s. Or at least as close as he could get being a foot shorter. “Succumbed to the tree spirits, Zaranesti?” he sneered. “Or does that new trollop I saw you with fancy herself as a landowner?” Cristian caught a handful of T-shirt and dragged him up even closer, right off his feet. “A word to the wise, Albin. Don’t.” “Don’t what?” he blustered, trying to dislodge Cristian’s grip and still maintain his dignity. “Just don’t.” Cristian dropped him and turned away. It spoke volumes that he barely noticed Violeta hurrying across the uneven ground toward them. And that when he did see her, he only nodded and kept walking. It was only later that he realized how completely that part of his life was finished. Albin shouted after him, clearly enraged. “You’ve no idea what you’re messing with, Zaranesti! I have friends -- important friends! -- and I never give up!” Cristian hammered the last nail in his own coffin. He laughed.

***

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Arriving back at his own house, Cristian felt as if some huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A weight that had been there long before the advent of Salcie and her strange tree people. He had always known in his heart he shouldn’t sell the land. He had wanted to be bad, just for once, to get his own way, achieve purely selfish ends. But quite aside from the effect of his actions on others, including those he loved, they would never have made him happy. Not even half as happy as telling Albin where to stuff the land sale made him right now. He knew as soon as he opened the door that Salcie wasn’t back. She had a presence that was instantly recognizable. Somehow she made his heart sing with excitement as well as peace and he wasn’t quite sure how that combination was possible. Pull up, Cristian, he warned himself. He wasn’t a fickle man, and his head was giving him all sorts of warnings about jumping so quickly and so deeply into this new relationship. After all, a month ago he’d been in pieces because of Violeta! Or had he? Moving across to the kitchen window, he gazed unseeingly out across the garden to where the willow had always grown. He hadn’t missed Violeta. He’d missed the dream -- a beautiful wife to share his life, the prospect of children, and stability. And he had wanted these things so badly he’d overlooked the obvious drawback that he and Violeta were not remotely compatible. Not mentally, not emotionally and certainly not sexually. But Salcie… To think of her in the same breath as Violeta seemed sacrilege somehow. She was wild and fresh, without limits in any aspect of life. On top of which she was gorgeously round and soft… Sex with her was a revelation of passion, at once unbelievably satisfying and constantly arousing. Of course it couldn’t always stay at that intensity… could it? He’d grown hard again just thinking about her. He wondered how she was doing with her inebriated tree people. A smile curled his lip, one of pride as well as

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amusement. She’d been like the mother of a large family of troublesome teenagers, catching them in wrongdoing and standing no further nonsense. He wondered if he should walk up to the wood and meet her. His presence seemed to incense her “brothers” -- well, he had planned to murder them -- but he couldn’t help worrying about her… Slowly, his eyes came into focus. There was a tall silver lime tree in the vegetable patch. The phone rang, jerking him back to life. Thinking it might be Salcie -- or at least news of her, he had no idea if she could even use a telephone -- he strode into the hall and picked up the receiver. It was Iancu, telling him Dorina and the kids were fine and the village still quiet. “Good. By the way, make Dorina’s day. Tell her I’m not selling.” There was a pause. “The land? You’re not selling the land?” “I’m not selling the land. Not to Albin, or to anyone else right now.” “Well, bugger me,” said Iancu admiringly. “Dorina was right again.” Cristian laughed and rang off. He was still smiling to himself when he went back to the kitchen. The lime tree was no longer in the vegetable patch. But four young men, partially and bizarrely dressed, were there instead, spreading around the outside of the house, slowly, determinedly. One of them was Kerq, whom Salcie referred to as the Elder Wood. Come to pick a fight. “Enemy Number One,” Cristian said ruefully of himself. He supposed he would have to try and talk to them. First though, he went to the front of the house, looking out of the sitting room window. There were others there too, advancing on the house. Cristian didn’t want his home ransacked like the gardening shop. He locked the front door, then returned to the kitchen. Through the window he saw Kerq had a ball of dried grass and twigs in one hand. In the other, he held a long, lit taper. Shit!

Chapter Ten Cristian wrenched open the back door and leapt outside. “Kerq? Don’t light that, for God’s sake! Do you have any idea the damage a fire could do around here?” Kerq smiled. “Oh, yes. It could burn down your home. Get back in the house, murderer.” A quick glance showed him that the others all held potential fire balls too. He doubted he’d catch all of them in time, and once the house was ablaze, it would spread. Everything, fields, woods, houses, could go up like a giant tinder box in this heat… And the ones that didn’t reach the house could set fire to the garden instead with much the same effect… He spoke urgently. “Look, I know you’re angry with me -- I’m pretty pissed off with myself -- but there’s no way I’d cut your wood down now that I know who and what you are!” “You’ve got that right,” said Kerq grimly, and put his taper to the grass ball. “If you don’t get back in the house, I’ll throw this right at you.” It might be the best solution, Cristian thought grimly. At least he’d then have control of it, however nasty the burns. Only while he was distracted, the others could easily set fire to the inside of the house. Cristian took a step backward, nearer the door, wondering desperately if he’d left any windows open. Kerq grinned wolfishly, drew back his arm -- and abruptly something flew at him, knocking his arm up. The ball of flame landed on the grass and Salcie stamped on it vigorously.

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“Idiots! Imbeciles!” she raged. “Are you trying to set fire to every living thing between here and the wood? Do you want to scorch your own earth, murder your own brothers? Drop those damned things now! Put the matches away!” This was Kerq’s hardcore group of followers. Cristian was by no means sure they would obey Salcie, but he had to assume they would. Hastily, he ran to join her, stamping out the smoldering little sparks already spreading across the lawn. “Are you all right?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Cristian…” “I’m fine,” he soothed, casting her a quick grin to prove it. “How are your drunks?” “One lot re-rooted to sleep it off. This lot…” She paused in her efforts to glare round the other Botans who, thank God and his wonderful Salcie, had already dropped their potential fire balls and were now shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. Interesting how quickly they’d learned to do that. “He’s a murderer!” Kerq maintained defiantly. “He must be punished. And the fire would never spread so far…” Salcie rounded on him. “Have you ever seen a forest fire?” “No, and neither have you!” For an instant Salcie looked confused. “No,” she agreed uncertainly. “But I know about them. Trust me, they are the number one thing we have to avoid. And anyway, even if the fire didn’t spread so far, it would still have destroyed every plant in this garden. If Cristian should be punished, so should you!” Taking advantage of his stunned silence, Salcie launched into a speech that was half scold, half rallying cry, explaining why no one would now cut down the wood, and how they should behave in order to survive. And she ended on a master stroke. “You’re tired,” she said kindly, going among them, touching a grubby hand, a cotton-covered arm, a bare back. “You need to re-root to replenish your energies. The others are already back. Do not drink the plant food, guys. It’s bad for you, stops your mind working -- like alcohol on human brains. Kerq? Can you take them back to the wood and look after them?”

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Suddenly given more status than the others, he seemed to perk from his state of belligerent depression and straightened his back. “Of course,” he said proudly. “I am the Elder Wood.” And without a further word, he led them out of the garden in a long, almost marching line. The glances some of the Botans cast at Salcie were not lost on Cristian. They looked hopeful, almost pleading.

*** Salcie was so wound up her body felt like a coiled spring. Yet she followed Cristian almost numbly when he led her inside and upstairs to the bathroom which, she had learned yesterday, was the place humans relieved themselves and washed. She didn’t particularly care why he’d brought her here now; she was too concerned with other matters. Her head spun with what might have happened and what she would like to do to Kerq for being such a total imbecile. Water began to run into the receptacle he called a bath, though not from the taps, from a spraying head higher up the wall. Cristian’s hands were easing the yellow top up over her shoulders. Like a child, she lifted her arms high to let it slide easily over her head. When she could see again, Cristian’s concerned eyes were looking straight into hers. “I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered. And then, when he tried to draw her into his arms, she pulled back, raging, “I thought they’d kill you! I thought they’d kill everything, the stupid, blind morons! Kerq doesn’t deserve to be their Elder Wood -he’s going to get them all killed!” “I know,” Cristian soothed, unfastening her jeans and pulling them down over her hips. Though Salcie stepped out of them obediently, she began to frown. “What are you doing? Why are you taking my clothes off here?” “You can’t have a bath with your clothes on,” he pointed out. “A bath? I don’t want a bath! I want to kill Kerq!”

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“That’s why you need a bath,” Cristian said obscurely, tugging down her panties. Salcie wriggled and held them out to him on the end of one ankle. “What was he thinking of?” she demanded. “Nothing! That’s the trouble! He doesn’t think! He’s like a kid with an army of toy soldiers, only…” “Sh-sh,” said Cristian. He picked her up like a child and plonked her feet first into the bath. The water collecting there came up to her ankles. More sprayed in over her head and body. Salcie gasped as it ran into her eyes and mouth, shaking her head to get rid of it. It only came back. By the time she’d got used to it enough to open her eyes, Cristian, totally naked, was climbing into the bath with her. Kerq and the terrifying scene in the garden began to recede. For the first time since it had begun, she found herself concentrating only on Cristian as he squirted something from a bottle into his hands. Stepping behind her, he began to rub her back and shoulders. White bubbles began to form and run away into the bath. She said uncertainly, “Are you washing away my anger?” “I hope so. A bath is a great way to relieve tension.” “Why?” “It relaxes all your tense muscles.” Illustrating, he massaged soap into the taut, knotted muscles across her shoulders and neck. She twisted with involuntary pleasure. His hands moved down over her arms, slid around across her breasts, soaping the underside and then back to her nipples. Another kind of tension began to gather in Salcie, a pleasurable one that vied with her anger and then overcame it entirely as he pressed his rigid cock into her slippery buttocks and began to rub it against her. His hands, having thoroughly washed her breasts, swept lower over her stomach and hips to her thighs, then sliding round and upward to her pussy. She parted her legs involuntarily, gasped as his soapy hand found every fold and crease around the swollen bud of her clitoris. With a soft moan that sounded part growl to her own ears, she began to move against him, rubbing soap from her own body onto his chest and thighs and cock.

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His male organ seemed permanently erect, she thought proudly, excitedly, as she maneuvered herself around it. “You’re covered in soap,” he murmured as he nibbled her lobes. “So what do we do about that?” “We rinse it off.” Reaching above her, he brought down the spraying head, washing away the soap between their bodies before bringing it around in front of her. The powerful spray against her breasts was curiously arousing. She changed angles to experiment and suddenly the head of his cock was between her legs, nudging her entrance. With a little laugh that was almost a sob, she reached down and pushed it inside her. The pleasure was exquisite, and yet when he swept her hands away and directed the shower between her legs instead, she cried out with the sharpness of that unexpected delight. He began to move inside her, at the same time targeting her pulsing clitoris with the water jet. Lost in bliss, Salcie wanted it to go on forever, but she couldn’t stop the powerful tide of orgasm that swept through her, tearing her apart so he had to hold her up. The shower head fell into the water as he gripped her by both breasts, kneading them while she came, pushing his tongue into her mouth, kissing her and fucking her at the same time. As it died back, she turned to him. His cock sprang out of her and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him in gratitude. But only for a moment, for despite the gentleness of his strong arms around her, his cock throbbed angrily against her stomach, desperate for release. She slid down his wet body until she knelt in front of him and took his big, straining cock in her mouth. She knew vaguely, from overheard conversations as well as the odd observation, that it was something men tended to like a lot. Her previous experiment with Cristian in this area had seemed to bear this out. And when she glanced up at him now, the wonder and ecstasy on his face told its own exciting story. This time she would bring him to completion…

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He filled her mouth as he had previously filled her pussy. Despite the water, the taste of her own juices still lingered on his cock, reminding her, as if she needed it, of what he had just been doing with it. Growling deep in her throat, she sucked and massaged and bit and pumped until with a roar of uninhibited delight, he emptied himself into her throat. She drank it down, avidly, milking him, while his hands in her hair curled convulsively, caressing, holding. “How,” he asked when he could speak, “did you learn to do that?” She released his cock and smiled up at him wickedly. “Instinct. And you’re right, Cristian. A bath is an excellent way to relieve tension.”

*** “What are you looking at?” Salcie asked. After the shower, she had discovered the delights of a long, warm bath. Cristian, who had run it for her and given her some of Dorina’s rather old bubble bath to play with, had looked as if he was tempted to join her. Salcie wouldn’t have minded, but in the end, as if sensing her need for solitude, he had left her to it. Maybe tomorrow, Salcie thought with growing excitement at the thought of soaping his big strong body again, of sliding her own up and down it, his slippery cock jutting between her legs looking for home… Divinely satisfied, refreshed and yet pleasantly aroused by her own fantasies, Salcie had put on a thin little dress she’d discovered in Dorina’s wardrobe, and gone in search of Cristian. She found him in a small room across the hall from the sitting room. It was dominated by a large, oak desk, at least a hundred years old, which was covered in papers and books, a computer, and a large stack of pens. Cristian sat behind it, engrossed. “What are you doing?” He glanced up and smiled, his avid gaze drinking her in. “Wow. That suits you.” “Good.” He reached for her, pulling her into his lap and finally returning to her question. “I’m looking at maps. This is the lake, and the wood where Albin wanted to build his

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cottages. On the slope like that, it would have given every cottage a view of the lake. That was the attraction for him. I’m just wondering if something smaller-scale might be possible, spreading along the lake here, well away from the wood. I could design something that would fit in better with the scenery. Add a bit of security for the paranoid rich -- which would have the double advantage of keeping them in!” Salcie smiled under her frown. “Why would you want to keep them in?” “So they don’t go poking around the wood and discover why it’s sometimes got more trees in it than others,” Cristian said dryly. “Good point. But -- wouldn’t it be better not to have the rich people here at all?” “In some ways, yes. But your guys need something to do, something to live on. Maybe they could help build and run this development? In time we could do sidelines in guided tours of the surrounding countryside… if you think it’s a good idea.” Salcie was speechless. In a day, he had gone from wanting to cut them down to being their benefactor, social worker, and employment agent. Under her silence, his expression grew rueful. “Sorry, I tend to jump the gun. It’s just an idea…” “It’s a brilliant idea,” she whispered, putting her arms round his neck and hugging him tightly. “Thank you. Especially when they’ve all behaved so appallingly…” “I know you’ll lick them into shape.” “That’s Kerq’s job,” she said wryly. “I’m just helping him out until he finds his feet.” Cristian threw down the pen he’d used to point at the map, so he could hold her with both arms. “So you are, in effect, a free agent?” “I am.” “Then, you could, for example, come to Bucharest?” Her heart beat faster. “I could. Do you still intend to go? Without Albin’s money?” “I haven’t made up my mind. I don’t want to be tied here. Or there.”

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Salcie hesitated. Then, “I don’t think you will be. I don’t think you are. You were never constricted, Cristian, except by your own -- discontent. And that came from loneliness.” “I was never lonely in the city,” he objected. “And it’s impossible to be lonely in a village like this.” “You can be lonely anywhere. It’s not the lack of people I’m talking about. It’s the lack of one person.” Cristian stared at her, and she wondered if she’d gone too far too quickly. Last night had been amazing, full of loving and discovery and a closeness she had never imagined. But she knew her own mate, her destiny. Cristian didn’t. And as a different species, there was no guarantee he would feel it too. Go for it, Salcie… She swallowed. “My people believe in one life-partner, a being who is compatible with them in every way. A mate. A husband. Or wife.” “So do mine,” Cristian said wryly. “It doesn’t always work.” “We’re better suited to recognizing our mates. You are mine.” His brow twitched. He continued to gaze at her without moving. Then, slowly, he lifted his big hands to each side of her face. “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Me?” She smiled, feeling the tears of sheer emotion fill her eyes. “You.” He touched his forehead to hers. “You haven’t met many men, have you?” he said ruefully. “You’re everything I want. Everything I need.” An arrested look came into his eyes. His thumbs touched her lips, lightly stroking. Then he bent his head and kissed her mouth. Gladness and passion merged in that kiss, but before it could become more, the doorbell rang. Salcie broke free. “Albin?” she said worriedly, remembering a previous evening visit.

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“Only one way to find out,” Cristian said, standing up. “Wait in the sitting room,” he suggested, as they left together. Salcie considered mutiny. She didn’t trust Albin, angry and thwarted as he was. In the end, to please Cristian, she walked across to the sitting room, but went immediately to the window, peering into the darkness to try and make out who stood at the front door. At least it wasn’t a crowd of people, though she couldn’t peer around far enough to make out who was there. She didn’t have long to wait. She heard Cristian’s voice in the hall, the sound of two sets of footsteps, and then a woman walked into the room, just ahead of him. Cristian said, “This is Violeta.” Salcie knew who she was. She had watched Cristian kiss her under her branches. With tortured jealousy she had seen Cristian make love to her. “Glass of wine?” Cristian offered politely. “No, I can’t stay.” Violeta sounded slightly nervous. Her gaze flickered over Salcie and almost immediately returned to Cristian. “I just came to say… Wadim’s angry with you.” A smile flickered across Cristian’s face as he poured two glasses of wine. “I know.” “You shouldn’t have gone back on your word.” As Cristian walked across to Salcie, Violeta cast him a look that was half admiring, half admonishing. “But you’re not afraid of him, are you?” “No.” She began to smile. “Do you know, I think I may have made a mistake in leaving you for him?” Salcie’s heart leapt into her throat. She began to realize with despair what a frail thread her relationship with Cristian was. Cristian put the glass into her nerveless fingers, curling them around its stem until she cooperated. “No, there was no mistake in leaving me. In going to him, perhaps. I’m afraid you’ll have to sort that one out for yourself. I don’t think that’s what you came to say to me though.”

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Violeta licked her lips. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. If Wadim finds out, he’ll kill me. But you should get away from here, Cristian.” “I won’t run from Albin.” “Listen! He’s going to cut down the trees and blame it on you! You’ll have to sell him the land or go to prison!” Now that she had their complete attention, she seemed to be at something of a loss. “When?” Cristian demanded. “Tonight. Before dawn. He’s got the city lads to do it. They’ll do anything for him, swear they were working for you. Meanwhile, he proves your permission to cut is a forgery -- when in fact it’s genuine, just bribed out of officials with sweeteners and false information.” “Thought so,” Cristian said, apparently satisfied by his perspicacity.

“Can Albin really do that?” Salcie asked faintly.

Cristian shrugged. “Possibly. I’ve no idea how dirty his fingers are. Or the

politicians and officials in his pocket. But that doesn’t matter, because we won’t let him cut down the trees.” He turned to Violeta and grinned. “Thanks for telling us this. We owe you.” “And you won’t tell him I told you?” she said anxiously. “Of course not.” “But you should do yourself a favor,” Salcie said reluctantly. “Ditch him.” An unhappy smile flickered in the other girl’s face. “Maybe.” She looked up at Cristian, searching his eyes. What she saw there seemed to defeat her. She walked out of the house without another word.

Chapter Eleven Salcie felt the goodness flow through her roots, nourishing her with strength and energy. She would need it. For the first time in her life, she had slept in a wood, surrounded by her brothers. There was warmth in that, although in truth, the fact that Cristian slept over her roots, wrapped in a blanket, warmed her more. Who are you? Used to movement now, it came as a shock that she couldn’t turn her head. She didn’t have a head. None of the sensors on her leaves picked up anyone nearby. It took a moment to realize that the stranger spoke inside her head. I am Salcie. Who are you? Zarin, Elder Wood of the Black Forest. You seem troubled. You have only recently achieved pollisexation? Yes… You will grow into your role, said the Elder Wood comfortingly. We all do. What role? Elder Wood, of course. Do you have many to care for? Well, yes, but I’m not the Elder Wood. I am a solitary. I’m only helping out with a bit of trouble. There was a short silence, and Salcie feared the powerful Botan had lost interest and left her. Then he said flatly, There is no one else of strength around you. You are the Elder Wood. But I can’t be! I grew to pollisexation on my own! I didn’t know the others existed until three days ago!

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It is unfortunate you got separated, but I think you know I’m right. Aren’t you wiser than the others? Do you not know things they don’t? Understanding flowed in a rush, at once uplifting and scary. Like the danger of forest fires. And why you shouldn’t drink plant food… Exactly, said Zarin. There was another pause, while Salcie drank it all in. Then, in a small, sad voice she hadn’t really meant to let him hear, she said, So I’m not free after all. No one is free. We all have responsibilities. It’s how we deal with them that determines happiness. Another voice interrupted, one of the younglings. Salcie! It’s time. They’re coming! Salcie, dragged immediately out of her philosophical reverie, said hastily, Zarin, I have to go. May we talk again? Whenever you like. Warmth, tinged with relief, suffused her. Thank you… She switched to the closer channel of thought. Okay, guys, what’s happening? Albin and several of his men had arrived in trucks by the lakeside. They were making their way up through the wood, silently, to the top where they would begin. It seemed Cristian was right about that. Through her brothers’ eyes, she watched the men moving among the trees, carrying their cutters and hard hats, glancing left and right with increasing unease. Some of the Botans could swish their leaves, even move a root to trip the unwary. As they’d discussed, they all thought hard to create a threatening and eerie atmosphere that even the most insensitive must have felt. Even if they blamed it on the darkness. These were city men, not so subject to superstition, perhaps, but a lot less used to the woods. The Botans made it as strange for them as possible. Albin was among them, in the grip of some smug excitement.

Cristian? Can you hear me?

Cristian stirred and then leapt to his feet. “Salcie?” he whispered.

They’re coming… Can you really hear me?

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“I seem to. Wow, you’re a girl of many talents.” I’ll show you more later… Albin is with them. “Good,” said Cristian grimly. Picking up his blanket, he said, “I’m watching, Salcie. I won’t let them hurt you. Any of you.” I know… He disappeared into the darkness of the trees beside her, watching for the arrival of Albin’s men. Salcie could still feel his presence like an ache. An Elder Wood shouldn’t have to give up her mate, should she? Maybe Zarin had got it wrong. Kerq was so sure he was the Elder Wood. Kerq is a dangerous fool. He needs guidance. He’s not fit to lead them. And I am? Hastily, Salcie pushed her worries aside. The first task was to save the wood. After that she could worry about Kerq. And whether she and Cristian had a future. Whether he wanted his future with her. The men appeared, panting slightly with exertion, and dumped their gear on the ground with muttered curses of relief. According to Cristian, Albin knew nothing about tree cutting. His men were unlikely to know more. Left to themselves, Cristian reckoned they would probably kill or severely injure at least one of their number. A pity she couldn’t afford to wait and see that. Under Albin’s orders, they got their chainsaws ready. The first man, as she’d hoped, turned to her, looking up and down the length of her as well as around her broad trunk. “Isn’t this a willow?” he stage-whispered. “I thought they only grew near water.” “I don’t want it growing anywhere!” Albin hissed. “Cut the bloody thing down!” “All right, all right.” The motor started up. She could feel the panic of her brothers like a tide. The city man looked up at her and with a jerk, she pulled her roots free and became woman. She smiled into the man’s face. “Boo!” she said over the motor noise, and transformed back into the tree. “Jesus Christ!” The man dropped his chainsaw on his own toe.

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“What is the matter with you?” Albin raged, as he and all the others turned to stare at their traumatized colleague. “It’s -- it’s not a tree! It’s a w-woman!” “Don’t be such a --” “Look at her!” They all stared at the willow. Willing herself, Salcie let the woman’s face appear in her trunk, opening her eyes wide to shine in the darkness. She had never tried that before, but it seemed to work. The men stumbled backward, muttering curses as they fell over each other’s feet. “It’s the darkness playing tricks,” Albin said, striving to maintain certainty. “Start cutting. All of you.” Now, Salcie called. All around the workmen, trees uprooted. Most transformed into men, tall, and lean and naked, advancing on their attackers through the darkness. But some managed to grow limbs from their trunks and lumber forward as grotesque combinations of man and tree. With preternatural cries of fear, the workmen dropped their chainsaws, scrambling to get away from the impossible terror closing in on them. They ran, bolting down the hill toward the lake while on all sides, trees moved, became men, and chased them all the way back to their trucks. Only Albin remained. Pushed over by his own fleeing men, he became tangled in roots and somehow could never scramble free to get to his feet. The men and tree-things advanced inexorably upon him. There was nowhere to go, no escape. Strange, inarticulate noises came from his throat. Salcie, in all her naked glory, slipped between her brothers and stood over him like an avenging angel. “Please!” Albin gasped incoherently. “Please, don’t! Please!” “Chop him up,” Kerq ordered. “As he would have chopped us.” “Oh, God! Oh no, for pity’s sake… Madam, I beg of you!”

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Ignoring his plea, Salcie turned her back and came face to face with Cristian. She had thought he would be laughing, but his eyes on Albin were serious, his face showing only contempt and anger. He barely looked at her. Going forward, he reached down and pulled the trembling Albin to his feet. “Get out of here, Albin. And never come back. Never threaten my wood again, in any way, or my wood will find you. Do you understand?” “Yes, yes, oh God yes, I understand! It’s all off. I’m off! Thank you, Cristian. Thank you!” And Albin took off as if all the fiends in hell were after him. He had a long way to run. His fleeing men had already taken all the trucks.

*** In the cool, grey and pink light of dawn, in the place where Salcie and Cristian had once made love, the Botans sat in a rough circle. They wore the clothes they’d saved from the previous day’s rampage, supplemented by stuff Cristian had brought for them last night. They were joking and laughing, repeating all the incidences of their spectacular victory over Albin and his cutters. When Salcie and Christian came to join them, they all looked up and grinned. All animosity toward Cristian had vanished. The handsomest young one, Silvius, said, “We owe you a big vote of thanks for organizing this, Salcie. You saved us without any fuss or bloodshed. It could have been a lot worse.” “Yes, it could have. But together we did very well. All of us,” Salcie agreed. “So… we’ve dealt with the immediate threat -- one that I suspect brought many of us to pollisexation before we were quite ready. Now we have to learn to live with our new state, to make a good life, find mates…” She didn’t look at Cristian. She’d told him about her conversation with Zarin. He hadn’t appeared surprised, only smiled slightly -- she wondered if it was relief that she would be thus distracted from him. She drew in her breath. “Look, most of you already recognize, as I now do, that I am your Elder Wood.”

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Kerq jerked his head up, staring at her. She looked back, steadily. “You took up a difficult job, Kerq -- all the harder because it didn’t come naturally to you. And I was too blind, or too busy shirking responsibility, to act. But I accept it now, as I hope you’ll accept me. The truth is, now that I’ve found you, I need all of you. As you need me.” Kerq leapt to his feet. “No! I am the Elder Wood! You’re not one of us!” “Apparently I am. I’ve spoken to other Elders, Kerq. I am your Elder Wood.” “I won’t have it!” Kerq raged. “You’re -- you’re female! And you deny that you’re my mate!” Salcie shrugged. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to do this, but he needed to have it spelled out. “We know our mates, Kerq.” Don’t look at Cristian. “Listen, we need to be sure of this before we can progress. So everyone who accepts me as Elder Wood, come and stand with me. Those who prefer Kerq, stand with him. No one will lose by this vote, and I’ll accept a majority decision. I hope you all will too.” One by one they all nodded, even Kerq in an abrupt, irritable way. Then they all rose and walked across the breaking circle to Salcie, until Kerq stood alone. He looked lost, anger fighting with disappointment, tinged with self-pity. “You know it’s right, Kerq,” Salcie said gently. “And we all need you too. You’ll always have an important role in this community.” As long as he was given clear instruction! Slowly, Kerq raised his head and walked across to join her. Salcie smiled at him. Thank you. Beside her, Cristian said, “There’s something else. I won’t interfere with you, unless I’m asked, but I will help you in any way I can. There’ll be time to talk about that later. For now, I just want you to know that Salcie is mine, and that I will let no one -no one! -- hurt her.” Salcie’s heart somersaulted in her breast. Emotion dragged her in all directions at once. She’d longed to hear him say this, was so proud that he had chosen to do so in public -- and yet she was terrified that this was some duty he imagined he owed her, because of her revelation yesterday.

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Agonized, she stared up into his warm brown eyes. You don’t need to do this… He smiled, the sort of smile that excluded everyone else and melted her bones. “Oh, I do,” he said softly. “I do. Salcie, I’ve come home. And it no longer matters where that is. I love you.” Her eyes closed to keep in the sudden tears. Her fingers gripped his convulsively and she gasped. Then she forced open her eyes, glaring round her people with defiance. “Cristian is my mate.” “Oh, we know that,” said Silvius dismissively. “We saw you mating in the woods.” To her delight, Cristian actually flushed a dull red. “Some of us knew that,” Kerq corrected gruffly. With an obvious effort he looked directly at Cristian. “But we all accept it.” He had come a long way, Salcie thought admiringly. There was hope for him! How do you feel about coming home with me for a little more private mating? Salcie felt her eyes widen as she stared up at Cristian once more. What did you say? I said, how do you feel -Fine! I feel just fine about that! Then what are you waiting for? He flung his arm around her waist, urging her forward, and excited laughter gurgled up in her throat. “Nothing,” she promised. “Absolutely nothing.”

Marie Treanor Marie Treanor was born and brought up in Scotland, but for some years moved around the UK working and studying. Now she is back home and happily married with three young children. Having grown bored with city life, she lives these days in a picturesque village by the sea where she is lucky enough to enjoy herself avoiding housework and writing stories of romance and fantasy. You can find out more about Marie and her books on her website: www.marietreanor.com, and by subscribing to her newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/marietreanornewsletter. She also shares the Sexy Delights loop with fellow Scottish author Kyla Logan. Find out more at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sexydelights. Marie loves to hear from readers, who can contact her at [email protected].

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