Again there was no impatience in his voice, only pride. Isabeau trembled as he took her wrists and extended her arms over her head, anchoring her claws in the tree itself.

“You climb with your dewclaws. Trust in your cat’s strength. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I won’t let you fall.”

She believed him. Part of the reason she’d fallen so hard and so fast for him had been the way he made her feel completely protected. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to her as long as she was with him. No matter the circumstances, he was a man to inspire confidence.

She dug her claws into the tree. He stretched his own arms above hers, caging her in, making her feel safe as she pulled. She was shocked at the strength running in her body. It was exhilarating to climb with such ease, claws curling into the trunk, roped muscles sliding beneath her skin as she heaved herself upward toward the canopy. She didn’t look down, but up, at the broad branches interwoven like a highway. The thick veil of leaves hid the life of so many creatures hundreds of feet above the ground. It was an entire new world up there.

She nearly forgot about the fire and the guns. There was more of a wind and she smelled the smoke, shocking her out of her surreal experience and back to real life. That had always been the way it was when she’d been with Conner. Each thing they’d done together, every place they went, had taken on a life of its own. She’d almost been afraid to go to sleep, afraid she’d miss something. Life with Conner was vivid—electric—passionate—everything she’d always wanted.

She climbed methodically, finding a rhythm in the movement as she pulled herself up the tree trunk. Conner always covered her, in perfect sync, as if they were dancing—or making love. She felt the muscles in his body, hard and defined, sliding against hers. His thick thighs stayed beneath her at all times, his arms surrounding her, his chest tight against her back so they moved together, almost as if they were one person, not two.

Raindrops splashed down as the roiling clouds above the canopy burst and dumped sheets of water onto the smoldering trees, effectively dousing the crackling flames. Black smoke rose to mix with the thick grayish vapor surrounding the canopy, creating a thick veil. Conner stepped easily onto a branch and pulled her next to him, keeping his arm around her waist. She felt like she’d stepped into the heavens.

Conner was right: The gunmen couldn’t possibly see them up in the thick branches, not with the thick mist blanketing them.