The Caveman and the Devil

Dedication

For my family, for their love and support.

For Rosie—thank you for everything. (Yes, even for getting lost in Koblenz. You have to admit it was a beautiful night to get lost….) You’re the best!

To Maureen Willmann—thank you for your help with

this story!

Chapter One

M
Y
TEETH
hurt from grinding them together forcefully for the last few hours. I consoled myself with the fact that at least my heart had stopped beating out of my chest.

Mostly. As long as I didn’t think about what had happened earlier today. As soon as my thoughts went in that direction, my heart pounded, my pulse sped up, and sweat beaded down my back.

Noah didn’t notice any of this. Of course he didn’t. How could he?

He was focusing all his attention on the two small lion cubs. Outwardly calm, I followed him inside our apartment. Yeah, our. It had become ours a month after I first witnessed his cuddling session with Daria, one of the snow leopards at the Philadelphia Zoo. That had been the catalyst for us becoming an item.

It had also been the catalyst for my hair to recede very, very far. I would have preferred for my hair to turn gray, but you can’t always get what you want. Including a responsible-acting boyfriend.

Breathing in and out deeply several times, I held myself in check, which meant restraining myself from wringing Noah’s neck or throttling him. I was getting the hang of it since I practiced that particular restraint
a lot
. One day I was sure to master it completely, but today was not going to be that day. No chance of that happening!

I didn’t think about the cubs when I kicked the front door shut with a resounding bang. The cubs mewled, frightened of their new surroundings and the loud noise. Noah shot me a dark glare over his shoulder. I shrugged apologetically before proceeding to the kitchen. I kept seething as I unpacked the box with supplies for the cubs.

I couldn’t believe what he’d done. I really couldn’t. But then again, I still couldn’t believe he’d cuddle with a nursing snow leopard, either. Come to think of it, I hadn’t accompanied him to his cuddling sessions with Daria
in months
. We had an agreement. Granted, it was a stupid (not to mention dangerous) agreement, but I thought we both had followed through with it. If he’d gone into her compartment without me sitting close by, I would… I would….

Frustrated, I slammed the cupboard door shut.
Fucking hell!
I didn’t know what I’d do. I trusted Noah not to do anything behind my back. He never gave me a reason to believe otherwise. Noah was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. Omissions were a different matter.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to ask him about his nonexistent cuddling time with Daria. The chance that I might not enjoy his answer seemed very likely. Today had shown me again how impulsive Noah could be.

My anger bubbled inside me, pushing closer and closer to the surface. My vision blurred from pent-up anger and frustration. I barely refrained from smashing another cupboard door shut, reminding myself how inconsiderate it was of me to make so much noise with the cubs around. I grabbed the empty box and stalked from the kitchen to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Noah called. “And could you stop making so much noise? You’re scaring the cubs, and they’ve been scared enough for one day.”

“They weren’t the only ones scared today,” I mumbled to myself. Raising my voice so Noah could hear me, I replied, “I’m getting the crate out of the attic. Make sure they don’t explore beyond the living room.”

I stomped up to the attic, wrenched the door open, and was immediately engulfed in a dry, suffocating heat. Seconds later my shirt was glued to my skin while sweat trickled down my face. I quickly located the crate and even discovered some toys for the cubs. I put them into the crate, a sudden bout of nostalgia settling over me. Some of the toys were battered and almost beyond recognition because I’d had to repair them over and over again. The new cubs would certainly end the lives of several of them.

Shaking my head, I hefted the crate up and carried it from the attic. The cool air that awaited me outside the attic allowed me to breathe more easily, but it also sent a shiver down my spine. I locked the door, did my best to walk down the stairs instead of pound, and knocked at the door.

Noah opened it while he struggled to carry the two fidgeting cubs in his arms. The sparkle in his eyes accentuated the green of his irises. Noah pulled the door open wider and grinned at me. It was one of his full-fledged grins that always led to me forgetting everything else. Despite everything that had happened, I really did forget my anger and smiled back.

He stepped back to make room for me and said, “I thought you’d demolish the attic. What did you do there?”

After closing the door, I walked into the living room and set the crate on the floor. “Searched for the crate.”

“No, really?” Noah replied, grazing me with an eye-roll.

And just like that, anger flooded me again. In an attempt to rein in my temper—and to refrain from wringing Noah’s neck after all—I declared, “I’ll prepare the food for them.”

Noah blinked at me, a concerned expression appearing on his face. A stray lock of hair fell on his forehead and immediately drew the attention of both cubs. They reached for his hair with their forepaws, but neither of them was successful since their paws kept crossing ways. Both cubs voiced their annoyance with high-pitched mewls and lots of hissing. One of them nicked the skin on Noah’s forehead, and Noah yelped in surprise. While he scolded the cubs, he set them on the floor, where they started chasing each other.

Gruffly, I said, “There are toys in the crate. See if you can get them interested in those instead of your hair or face.”

“What? Are you afraid they might leave marks on my face?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Trying to keep my voice controlled, I replied, “You’ve got enough scars, don’t you think?”

Hurt flashed over Noah’s face. His scars had never been an issue, at least not for me. They were a part of him, period. Obviously, Noah felt differently. Not that he’d ever tell me about it. I had tried several times to engage him into a conversation about the jaguar attack he’d survived years ago. His deflection skills were most impressive, which meant I remained unsuccessful. It irked me that he wouldn’t open up to me, but hey, I couldn’t very well nag him about it since I kept some of my past private too.

Noah snapped at me. “If I had known they disgust you, I’d have made sure to keep them hidden.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Great. Not only am I disgusting, now I’m also stupid.”

“Noah,” I growled.

“What?”

One of the cubs chose that moment to jump on the small wooden table next to the sofa. Its momentum caused the cub to slide along the surface and topple down the other side. Noah jumped when he heard it squealing and hastily knelt beside it. The other cub cautiously sneaked up on Noah and jumped on his back while he was busy petting the whimpering one.

“Hey!” Noah protested.

He pulled the cub off his back, laughing at its antics. The cubs forgot there was something to complain about and tussled with each other. Sometimes they tumbled over Noah’s legs and voiced their displeasure with a kitten-like mew before they lunged at each other again.

Without a word, I retreated to the kitchen to prepare the bottles.

Chapter Two

W
HEN
I came back, Noah leaned with his back against the sofa and both cubs mewled nonstop. The light-colored one sucked on one of Noah’s fingers while the other one repeatedly bumped its head into Noah’s belly, eliciting the occasional hiss from Noah.

“Thank God, there you are! What took you so long? They’re going to eat me alive!”

Stifling a sigh, I dropped onto the sofa and totally ignored its squeaky protest. I thwarted Noah’s comment by saying, “Not a word if you value your life.”

Noah tilted his head back and grinned up at me. I bent forward, picked the darkly furred cub up, and set it in my lap. After I handed Noah one of the bottles, he slid over until he sat between my legs. Even when we watched TV in the evenings, he often chose this position. At first it had weirded me out, but he had assured me he liked it this way. I stored it in the “Noah’s-quirks” category. Some of those quirks were easier to like, or at least tolerate, than others.

We fed the cubs, who sucked greedily and very noisily on the bottles. They emptied the bottles and we massaged their bellies until they fell asleep.

I nudged Noah lightly with my left foot and murmured, “Let’s put them in the crate.”

“I just want to hold her a little bit longer.”

“Noah, we’re both tired and need a shower. Get up and put the cub in the crate.”

“Spoilsport.”

“That’s me. Caveman and spoilsport, united in one neat package.”

Noah laughed but quickly tried his best to smother it when the cub in his arms stirred. Carefully, he bedded the little lion in the crate, staring down at it with an awed expression. Shaking my head, I lowered the cub’s sibling next to it.

“When will the winners of this name-giving contest be announced? Because it’s odd to always talk about them as ‘it’ or ‘she’.”

“Next Monday, I believe. I don’t get why they’re making such a fuss about it this time.”

“Hailey’s trying a new marketing strategy, probably.”

Hailey Thomas was our marketing director. That woman was a real nuisance, in my humble opinion. “All nonsense if you ask me.”

Noah bopped my upper arm. “Of course it’s nonsense to you. There’s a lot of things you don’t see the fun in.”

I scowled at him. No, I most definitely didn’t see the fun in Noah losing all common sense and putting his life on the line. I felt the vein at my right temple throb, almost painfully. The urge to yell at Noah surprised me in its intensity. I turned on my heels and walked back into the kitchen, both empty bottles in my hands.

I threw the bottles into the sink, where they made a satisfying clattering sound. I hoped the noise wouldn’t wake the cubs, but damn if it hadn’t felt good to throw them. Right until I wondered whether I’d broken them. While I unscrewed the suckers and rinsed them out, I inspected the bottles for any sign of cracks. They withstood my thorough examination, for which I was grateful.

The kitchen door clicked shut. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Noah leaning against the door with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Are you okay?”

Seriously? He had the nerve to ask me if I was okay? I gulped in a deep breath, but the sudden tightness around my chest didn’t lessen. Instead, my vision faded from bright and clear to dull and dark. For a moment I couldn’t see at all, as if a veil had been cast over my eyes. It made cleaning the bottles and the suckers all the more challenging.

Noah remained silent while I cleaned. When I was done, I dried my hands and walked toward the door. Noah swallowed hard as I approached him. Still, he didn’t move. He was the only guy I had ever met who didn’t back down when he was confronted by me, especially by a mad me.

I couldn’t deal with him, not without losing my composure. Even though I was seriously pissed, I didn’t want to say or do something I’d regret later. After all—I loved Noah.

Grabbing his shoulders, I pushed him away from the door so I could pass, which earned me a muttered complaint.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I rumbled as I opened the door.

On my way to the bathroom, I peeked in on the cubs. Both slept soundly and peacefully. Good for them. I doubted the same fate would be granted to me.

Chapter Three

O
NCE
inside the bathroom, I inspected my reflection in the mirror. I looked exhausted but also ready to pop a vessel. Since the sight wasn’t all that inviting, I turned away. I hadn’t even opened the first button of my shirt when the bathroom door opened. It was all I could do not to snap at Noah. Was it too much to ask to have some alone time so I could calm down? I hoped he’d get the hint if I didn’t stop with my task at hand.

Noah, being Noah, either didn’t understand the silent treatment or ignored it. If I were to bet, I’d put my money on the second option. He walked around me until he stood in front of me and since I didn’t trust my voice, I chose to glower at him.

“Hey, Caveman, are you mad at me?”

“Me?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“You
are
mad.” He wrinkled his nose as his searching gaze flitted over my face. He was clearly puzzled by my behavior. “Why?”

“Why?
Why?
Seriously? You’re seriously asking why I’m mad at you?”

“Yes, dear almighty Caveman, I’m seriously asking why you’re mad at me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Utterly baffled, I forgot all about what I was doing or what I had intended to do. I stared down at Noah, my lover, the man I’ve loved for almost a year now. Incredulous, I croaked, “You didn’t do
anything
wrong today? Is that right?”