Haze of Heat (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Roughly five minutes later, Porter stood outside the parlor entrance, back to the wall, and watched Rachel waltz into the room, alone. Neither man nor beast was happy about the situation and a low, menacing snarl of impotent outrage emerged before he could stifle it.

From the other side of the archway, Rome sliced a finger across his neck. Porter flipped him the bird, accompanied by a snapping of razor-sharp teeth. Rome returned the gesture with an explicit and highly imaginative one that made Porter proud. Feeling somewhat less barbaric, he managed to rein in his prowling feline and turn his attention to what was happening on the other side of the wall.

“I haven’t been in here yet.” Rachel’s voice was steady, her scent unchanged. No fear. “So I haven’t seen this portrait. I believe it’s their ancestor. Cort Fylin.”

“Yes. And, if the stories I’ve ferreted out are to be believed, he was actually a very successful pirate named Claude Morgan. People think it’s with that ill-gotten wealth how he was able to purchase all this land and finance the building of this magnificent house.”

Whether Fylin was indeed Morgan, no one knew for certain, and their resident ghost wasn’t talking. However, Rachel’s claim to supernatural assistance in the cave lent credence to that particular theory. Not that Porter cared one way or the other. He loved his home with every fiber of his being. And while he would leave it without a second thought to be with the woman he loved, he knew a part of his heart would forever remain behind.

“Fascinating.”

“Even more fascinating is the belief that he haunts this house.”

“Really?” Porter had to give Rachel credit for sounding completely naive. It tickled his sense of play, even as he silently prodded her to get to the point and get out.

“Indeed. I have to tell you, I’m not one who believes in ghosts or anything of the supernatural, but there have been a few times I’ve felt a slight chilly breeze in this place and found no cause.”

There was a moment of silence before Rachel said, “I can’t say I’ve felt any of those, but I don’t disbelieve you.”

“I keep thinking of that woman at dinner yesterday. Unfortunately, I wasn’t looking at her when it happened so I can’t discount a seizure, or maybe she lost her grip on her utensil? But then why would our hostess blame the air conditioning?”

Porter’s eyes flew to Rome, laughter threatening to rise at the sight of his brother’s two raised thumbs and dopey grin. In that instant, Porter never adored his brother more. Rome had to know how difficult this was for Porter, letting Rachel go in that room alone, and the usually stalwart sibling was being amusing on purpose, to keep Porter’s possessive fury tamped.

“I can’t say that I truly know. So, I take it you’re enjoying yourself here?”

“Oh, indeed. This is a great bed-and-breakfast. Not a lot to do if you like a nightlife with your vacation, but exceedingly lovely for a quiet getaway.”

No nightlife? Porter shook his head. If the male saw what roamed the grounds during any given night, he’d wet himself.

“Hmm. I think this goes there.”

Porter set his jaw. What was she doing now?

“Excellent. I’ve been looking for that piece for a while. You’re pretty good with puzzles.”

“Not really. I just know a jaguar’s eye when I see it.”

Porter squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body shaking with contained mirth. He knew what puzzle they were working on. It was a picture of a single adult male jaguar sprawled out on an ocean of green grass, keeping a watchful eye on four male juveniles, one with a coat of unrelieved black, who tumbled and played at his side. Only it wasn’t just a puzzle. It was a real picture. Of the Felix males on some Father’s Day a long, long time ago.

Porter really did get his sense of humor from his mom.

“I’m a little curious how you pick the places you go. To review, I mean. For your travel blog. Do you throw a dart at a map? For instance, how did you choose the Orchards?”

Finally!

“I can’t say that I chose it per se. I never knew it existed until Thursday.”

“No?”

“I think this section fits...right...here. Perfect!”

“Nicely done.” Rachel praised the man and Porter ground his teeth to dust.

“Thanks.”

“And you heard about the Orchards...?” she prompted, making Porter silently praise her.

“What? Oh no. I saw it on Larry’s computer.”

Bingo! Porter and Rome shared a triumphant look and leaned in just a bit more.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Larry?”

“Oh. Yes. Jan needed him to work late Friday and Saturday for a publishing project. I remember because I was the one who went down to tell him Thursday morning. He got testy, which surprised me, as such a request isn’t unusual in the publishing industry.” The sound of swooshing air. “Anyway, when he went upstairs to speak with Jan personally, I stayed behind to make some copies and happened to see this website open on his computer. Naturally, since hotels and their ilk are my thing, I was curious and checked it out.”

The silence that followed nearly killed Porter.

“A publishing project? So Larry is a writer?”

“What? Oh, no. He works in the mail and copier room.”

Works in the mail room? No wonder he was able to obtain Rachel’s address!

“I see. Did he tell you then, that he was planning a vacation here?”

“Hmm. No. Well. Yes. When he came back, he was testy, like I said. Mentioned something about plans to fly out and see his wife. I’d already decided to come out, and when I mentioned both my unexpected trip and Larry’s aborted one, Jan was all confused. Not about my last-minute trip of course, as that happens all the time when my curiosity is piqued, but about Larry. Confused because he’d returned from vacation only last week, and if he had a wife, it was news to her.”

Porter whipped his eyes to his brother’s. Rome mouthed, “I’m on it,” and bolted down the hallway on silent feet, his cell phone in his hand.

Inside the room, Porter heard a choking sound, smelled Rachel’s excitement. Luckily for Daniels, not sexual excitement.

Time to get his mate back.

Inside the room, Rachel and Daniels sat across from each other at the puzzle table, so called because there was always one puzzle or another laid out for everyone’s enjoyment. Over the fireplace hung Cort Fylin’s portrait, his back to the same bay that stretched out and around the Orchards. A big man with thick, white hair, dressed in clothes befitting the era. Both intimidating and intriguing with his heavy cheekbones, wide-set eyes, and a chin that looked like granite. His mouth was in a smirk of satisfaction, head back, one hand on his hip. The other gripped the top of a cane, its ornate handle shaped like a sleek, predatory cat.

“I do hope he’s not on drugs or anything of that nature,” Daniels was saying as Porter stalked toward the table, catching Rachel’s attention. “He’s worked there several years and has always been a steadfast kind of fellow.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow Rachel a while.” Never a question because she belonged with him, always. Porter held out his hand, palm up, for Rachel who took it and stood.

“Oh.” Daniels looked up, blinked behind his glasses. “No. Not at all.”

“Goodnight, Trevor. And thank you.” Rachel smiled at the man.

“You’re welcome, though I’m sure I don’t know what for. Have a good evening.”

Once they were away, Rachel whispered, “Where’s Rome?”

“Taking care of the situation.” Anxious to be alone with her, his brisk stride was causing Rachel to double-time it or be dragged. He was about to do the expedient thing and simply pick her up when she abruptly put on the brakes.

“Where are we going?”

“My place. Until I hear that Larry the mail clerk is in custody, you’ll stay with me.” When she opened her mouth he groused. “I can’t protect you if I can’t see you.”

“Wait!” She yanked on his hand when he resumed his hurried journey. “If I’m staying with you, I need to get my things from my room. Give me an hour.”

An hour to pack? “What in the world for? We go up, throw your stuff in your bags.
Terminado
.” He snapped his fingers. “Finished like that.”

“Porter.” She laid a hand on his chest, right over his heart. “I need to call my mom. Alone.”

That need glimmered in her eyes and punched him in the gut. Knowing full well he’d rather cut off his hand before replacing that glimmer with hurt, he tromped down his own relentless need. “All right. But don’t leave the room alone. One of us will escort you. In one hour.”

From the tight press of her lips, he figured she was squelching an argument. He waited for it, braced himself, but she only nodded. “Thanks.”

Though it went against his protective nature, he dropped her off at her door, turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen. Sitting around the massive wood table playing cards were his parents, Annie and Bob.

“So, how’d it go?” Melinda asked.

“Guy in the mail room. Rome’s handling it. Rachel’s staying with me. Can one of you walk her over to my place in an hour? I need to get out.” Meaning he needed to run, and run hard.

“Of course.” Andreas leveled his eyes on his son. “I’ll take her.”

Remembering his outburst in the corral, Porter nodded, eyes downcast. Though the mating heat still fired his blood and made him dance on the thin edge of insanity, he knew he could trust his mate with his father. “Thank you.”

Once outside, he nearly lost his grip, feeling the jaguar flickering under his skin. He couldn’t shift yet. Too many guests, too many potential eyes that might glimpse something they wouldn’t understand in the dimming light. Finally reaching the backside of the barn, Porter stripped and let go, feeling the familiar snap, crackle, and pop that brought the pleasurable pain of the change.

The trees were plentiful behind the barn, but it was the reserve he longed for. A half mile in the forest, he came to a halt, growling at the black metal pad attached to the fence. It linked to a self-closing gate that would only open to an approved paw. A hand scan for cats. Damn security features.

Swiping a paw across the pad, he waited impatiently for the light to change from red to green. As soon as the gate rolled open enough, he slipped through. To the jaguar’s senses, the scents were stronger, lusher, the sights more vivid. With a menacing roar, he leapt forward and ran full out. He brushed past trees and shrubs, ignored the rustling animals that scurried away at his ground-eating flight. Paws pounded the hard earth, the sound like a second heartbeat that soothed his cat’s wild soul.

Sometime later he paused, panting, and looked up at the night sky. Gauging the time by the moon’s position in the early evening, he twitched his tail in anticipation and turned back.

As he approached his home, he saw his father at the open door. Andreas turned to watch a large, sleek cat bound up the steps.

“Safe and sound,” his father told him.

“Sorry. What did you...oh!”

Porter sauntered inside on all four paws, under the wide eyes of his startled mate. Only his ears twitched when his father departed, and then they were blessedly alone.

“Wow. Porter. At least, I’m assuming it’s you.” She took in a lungful of air through her nose, grinned. “You smell the same as you do when you’re in human form, only more...wild.” Without fear—and didn’t that please him on the most basic level?—she circled him. “You’re gorgeous. Even prettier than Santos.”

He opened his mouth, flashed his gleaming teeth, and let out a growl.

Rachel laughed. “I saw him in the trees this morning after we all came out of the cave. God. Was that only this morning?”

She sighed. Then frowned. She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms. “That reminds me. I hear Ria saw you naked.”

With his cat’s mind in the forefront, he saw no problem with that. She’d seen him after a shift. Shifters were naked after a shift. So what could Rachel possibly have an issue with?

“I know I can’t shift, but even if I could, I take it you’d be fine with Santos seeing me naked.”

Hell, no! And that’s exactly what his foul roar morphed into when he shifted from cat to man. “Hell, no! Then I’d have to rip his eyes out.”

“Lovely picture.” She adjusted her weight, stood with one hip out, looked him over. When she raised her eyes back to his, her brows were lifted as well. “Shifting arouses you?”

He looked down at himself, grinned. “No. You arouse me. Come here.”

She cocked her head, paused as if considering, and then lifted a finger. “Wait. I have a better idea. Stay there and don’t move.”

“Why?” Her smile was somehow serene and naughty at the same time and it made his dick bobble.

“Because you’ll like it. Now, look at the blank TV screen and don’t move.”

Wanting to gnash his teeth at the order, he dropped his chin, and then noticed he could vaguely make out her movements behind him via that blank screen. Though the image was distorted, he saw her rummage in her purse, and then slip out of her clothes.

Halleluiah!

But when she returned, she did so at his back. “Ready?”

The husky note in her voice both excited him, and made him very wary. “Yes.” But he was an alpha shifter. He could handle anything she dished out.

Suddenly her arms snaked from behind. One hand rested on his abdomen, the other, without any forewarning, wrapped around his jutting erection. A shudder rocked his body. “Tighter.”

Squeezing, she stroked him from root to tip. “Like that?”

“Yes.” A long hiss as her soft lips pressed along his back.

Amazingly enough, it was a new experience for him, and so fucking erotic, seeing only those slender hands vising around his cock, not only from his perspective, but from the dark mirror. His hips instinctively rolled into her touch, eyes fluttering as blood rushed from his head to thicken his erection even more.

Tiny teeth scraped the skin on his back as she continued to boldly stroke his length, making him shiver at the rough play. Her thumb moved over the engorged head, pausing at the bead of moisture at the tip. Rubbing the pad of her finger through it, she proceeded to draw lazy circles around the slit, making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Before he was even close to done, she let him go, and then moved around him, following, down to her knees, the pillow she dropped at his feet.

She was naked but for the black-rimmed glasses on her face.

“Rachel.” He groaned out her name like it was the most succulent of treats. Part of him wanted to caution her about her sore knees. The other part, actually the majority of him, was slapping mental chains on his innate need to tend.

With unwavering attention, Porter watched, transfixed, as Rachel opened her mouth and licked the crown of his dick. His whole body jerked. Murmuring in appreciation, she once again circled the slit, this time with the tip of her tongue. Tasting him. Wet, damp darts that had his thighs clenching, his blood smoldering. Then she flattened her tongue and rubbed the sensitive spot just under the plump edge.

Huffing out a breath, he laid one hand gently on her head, his body vibrating with anticipation as her lips widened and slowly drew around his aching flesh.

“Aahhh. That’s it, sweetheart. Take me in.”

She enveloped his erection with one hand at the base, stroking up and down his hard length in time with her mouth. The other clutched his thigh, warning him to remain still. His jaw locked tight. It was difficult, so damn difficult, not to plunge deep, seat himself as far as she could take him.

With his free hand, he pushed her hair back and watched, mesmerized by those lushly parted lips sliding over the hard length of his cock, her self-proclaimed librarian spectacles perched on her nose.