Page 30 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“Oh, I’ve no doubt.”

“Is a wife what you want, though?” Deepa held her breath waiting for the answer, knowing what she wanted it to be, but unwilling to think about what that implied.

“If I said yes, would that scare you away? I’m of an age where settling down starts to sound more appealing. Having somebody to come home to…”

“I think,” Deepa said carefully, trying not to think about her own feelings or her reaction to Roz's words, “that you could make the right girl very happy.”

Roz’s laugh was a warm breath against her skin. “Suppose I’ll just have to keep looking until the right one falls into my lap, then, won’t I?”

“How will you know when you find her?”

“Well, I like to think she’ll tell me.” Roz planted another kiss to Deepa’s shoulder before straightening up. “But not tonight. Looks like I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lost track of time,” Roz said apologetically. “Was enjoying myself too much and took my eye off my watch. It's just about midnight.”

“What!” In a scramble, Deepa grabbed the woman's wrist to get a look at her watch face. It was more thanjust aboutmidnight; the seconds were ticking down to the hour: eleven, ten—

“Is this set ahead a minute?” Deepa asked desperately.

“No, I always keep it accurate.” Roz looked baffled by Deepa’s sudden distress. “I’ll go, I really didn't mean to lose track—”

“Go,” Deepa begged, pushing Roz off the bed, but it was too late. In a panic, she could only watch as the second hand passed over the hour—

Nothing happened.

Shakily, she let out her breath, checking herself over for changes. No claws, no fur.

“You alright, love?” Roz asked cautiously.

Had their dressing-room kiss actually done it? Or any of their subsequent ones, after the bath? Deepa could hardly believe that she’d fallen in love with the first woman she’d ever kissed, but she certainly hadn’t done anything else to break the curse.

“Deepa?”

She raised her eyes to meet Roz’s concerned gaze, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I think—”

And then she transformed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

A LATE-NIGHT DREAMSCAPE AND A CURSE REVEALED

Roz’s watch was ten seconds fast.

That made sense, because of course Deepa wasn’t in love. Even if it were possible for her to fall in love with a woman — withanyone— it would never happen so quickly. She'd been a fool for even entertaining the possibility. She should never have invited Roz upstairs in the first place, and she certainly should never have taken her attention off the time. To let her guard down around a handsome woman who wanted to take care of her was one thing. It was quite another to let her guard down when she had every reason to expect to transform into a giant wildcat on the stroke of midnight.

With a self-recriminating growl, Deepa dug her claws into the bedspread, tail whipping back and forth, before abruptly pulling herself together, her gaze shooting to her guest.

To her credit, Roz hadn’t immediately thrown herself out the bedroom door. She stood frozen with one hand on the door at her back, braced for action as she faced Deepa on the bed.For a minute, neither of them moved. Deepa was terrified of scaring her, not to mention the risk that Roz might tell someone downstairs. And Roz didn’t move out of fear of provoking the sudden leopard into an attack.

When the first minute dragged into a second, Deepa dropped to her stomach, resting her chin on the mattress, front paws hanging over the edge as she looked at Roz beseechingly. The problem with having the form of an apex predator was that every position looked somewhat threatening. If only she’d been cursed to take the shape of a wolf instead, she could at least roll over and show her belly, but a cat was as dangerous on its back as on its feet.

Still, Roz hadn’t left yet.

Deepa made as small a sound as she could, a tiny mew, and stretched one paw forward to gently bat the air in front of Roz.

“Hullo,” Roz said shakily. “Deepa?”

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