’ The man wanted to reach out to her, wanted to hold on to his humanity for a while longer, but the strong arms of the vortex reached out for him and pulled him back into the maelstrom . . . He felt the arc of her breathing as his body lifted gently on the swells of her breath, and he felt himself falling just as quickly within the rhythms of her life. He felt her fur on the side of his face, and the putrescent smell of her wounds, and yet he heard strength in the tiger’s beating heart. He knew the beat was stronger, knew that life had taken hold again within her battered frame, and his heart was gladdened when he felt her stirring against the cool rock on which they both lay. He felt a cold stab in his heart as something damp and heavy slid across his legs, and the tiger tried to move but couldn’t. The man opened his eyes but all he saw was a milky blur sliding across his body, and he blinked his eyes frantically to clear them. With each blink this world grew into sharper relief, and. ‘You said you’d stay in the gallery.’ Melissa groaned, ducking out of Gemma’s reach before she could take the glasses and headed for the dishwasher. ‘Will you stop fussing? Besides, I could smell the scones out there—’ she nodded her head back towards the door ‘—and I’m absolutely fine with it, okay? You really think I’d be here if I wasn’t?’ She could feel Gemma’s reproachful gaze boring into her back as she bent over the machine. ‘Great, and what am I supposed to tell your husband when he asks me if you’re doing too much? We had a deal, Melissa McKenzie. Me, kitchen and coffee shop. You, gallery and gift shop.’ ‘You tell him—’ Whoops, maybe opening the door hadn’t been a good idea. She paused to hold her breath as a cloud of steam, vaguely smelling of chlorine, cleared away from her face ‘Tell him that I’m allowed to decide what I can and what I can’t do. I’m pregnant, Gem. I’m not sick.’ ‘Not yet, you’re not,’ Gemma said grimly. ‘And that thing’s halfway through a cycle, by the.
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