"THERE IS ALWAYS A PRICE TO PAY." So Darius warned her when she accepted a position with his traveling troupe. And gazing mesmerized at the merciless slash of his mouth, the implacable resolve on his face, the soulless emptiness of his black eyes, Tempest was afraid to ask what it was. She had always been different, apart from others. From the moment his arms closed around her, enveloping her in a sorcerer's spell, Darius seemed to understand her unique gifts. But did his kiss offer the love and belonging she sought, or a danger more potent than his own panthers? Somewhere deep inside herself, Tempest, realized she knew the answer. She had no choice but to accept the velvet stroke of his tongue, 'submit to the white-hot heat piercing her skin, welcome an erotic pleasure like no other. . . .