Wild Cat (30 page)

“Say it, then.”

He didn't give an inch. She realized she'd been very, very lucky he'd taken her into his office to confront Alonzo. He really didn't want her anywhere near his family's business. Or her family's.

“I don't want you to have deal with any of that, Elijah. Clearly it's distasteful to you. We're thinking about being a family together . . .”

Both hands went to her skirt and he pulled it up to her thighs. Then his hands dropped to her waist and he yanked her toward him, so that she was right on the edge of the counter, his body wedged between her legs. Close. Close enough she felt the heat of his anger.

“
Don't
piss me off, Siena. You're already skating on thin ice. We aren't thinking about being a family. We
are
a family. My baby's in your belly and my fucking seed is so deep inside you you're never going to get it out. What more do you need before you admit we're together and we're going to stay that way?”

The room got scary. Tense. The air thick with his anger. Fury had gathered like pinpoints in his eyes. Before she could formulate a suitable apology for not wording her protest correctly, he heaved a frustrated sigh. His fingers flexed at her waist. Dug in. He gave her a little shake.

“We're fucking getting married. Immediately. I'm calling Jake now and asking him to find us someone and get the paperwork done. We do the paperwork, wait the seventy-two hours and then get it done. My ring's on your finger maybe you'll get it through your head you belong to me and . . .” He stuck his head close to hers, his eyes so silver they were pure liquid. “You. Aren't. Going.
Fucking.
Anywhere.” He spat the last five words.

She felt the answering anger start in her roiling stomach. Pressing a hand there, she glared at him. “Do you think that's the marriage proposal of my dreams? Because . . .” She leaned into him, her eyes narrowed, just as focused as his. “It.
Isn't.
” She yelled the last two words.

His hand moved up to the nape of her neck, fingers curling there. “You need to get this, Siena. You don't talk about leaving. You don't think about leaving. You got something sticking in your gut, you fucking talk to me about it.”

“Which,” she snapped, “I was
trying
to do. You are
such
a hothead and I hope to God you are not going to be this crazy when we have children. Because I'm the type of person who believes parents should be on the same page. You fall off that page with your
nasty
temper, Elijah, we will have words, quite possibly in front of the children.”

He studied her face. One eyebrow went up. “Words? We're going to have
words
?”

She nodded. Solemnly. “Yes, Elijah. You lose your temper like this with our children we will most definitely have words.” She folded her arms across her chest, indicating in no uncertain terms she meant business.

He reached out and very gently brushed strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. His mouth quirked, and she narrowed her eyes even more because just for one moment, it looked as if he might be finding her funny, which would get him in even more trouble than he already was in.

“You have words with me in front of our children, baby,
and I'll express myself in a very different war of words in the privacy of our bedroom. You won't like it and then you will.”

His dark tone made her shiver.

“You can't threaten me with . . . with . . . um . . .”

He leaned close, and this time she most clearly saw the glint of humor in his quicksilver eyes. “Baby, the word you're looking for is
sex
. My kind of sex. The kind where I keep you right on the edge for as long as I want to play. Maybe tie you up and play for hours until you beg me and I'll remind you of you having
words
with me.”

She blinked. Her breath caught in her lungs. She felt damp heat gathering between her legs and just for one moment, her sex actually spasmed. “Why do you keep using that
tone
when you say
words
. And before you answer, let me explain carefully, in grown-up language, that if you are in the least bit finding something funny about this conversation, that is only going to get
you
in more trouble.”

He framed her face with his hands, pushing closer with his large body, wedging himself between her thighs so that her legs were spread wide. Too wide. Her skirt, although long, was moving up around her hips. Exposing the fact that she hadn't worn panties. The cool air actually teased her suddenly heated sex. She didn't make the mistake of squirming, although it took a lot of control.

“If I laugh,
mi vida
, do you plan to have
words
with me?” He dipped his face down toward hers and she totally lost her breath. All of it. Air rushed out in a long, slow trail as she stared up into his handsome face.

For Siena, it had always been this man. Always. He filled her dreams, her fantasies. There had never been another man and there never would be. She couldn't help herself, she had to trace that shadowed jaw. He always looked like he had a shadow, that wonderful abrasive stubble that felt so incredible between her legs. His lashes, so dark and long, framing his amazing eyes. He was handsome, so much so that she couldn't
believe how masculine he looked at the same time. All hard lines and planes. He looked dangerous, and every time he came close, her heart pounded and her stomach did a slow, delicious roll. Every time he came close, deep inside, fireworks went off. How did she hide that from him?

“Yes.” She managed to get the affirmation out, but just barely because she had no air in her lungs.

His lips brushed hers. “Baby, you're so fucking adorable, sometimes you just take my breath away and I don't know what to do.”

It was the last thing she expected. Especially when his mouth was so close, distracting her.

“You need to take me seriously, Elijah. Especially when I'm trying to tell you something important.”

He nodded. His hand dropped to her bare thigh, circling there. She was acutely aware of his palm burning a brand in her skin.

“Tell me what you wanted to say before I lost my nasty temper,” he prompted.

Back to gentle. He could disarm her with his gentle. She took a deep breath because she needed air desperately. His fingers weren't still against her skin. He moved them in subtle patterns. She felt each one sink deep into her. Inside. Right at her deepest core, where she grew hotter. Where the burn settled and smoldered. She tried not to squirm so he wouldn't know that his touch, although on the inside of her thighs, burned through to the inside of her body. He'd take advantage of that. She just knew it.

“I didn't mean to imply I wasn't fully committed to our relationship,” she began. Needing him to know. Still, he deserved a kick for his outburst, especially the crack about marriage. As if she would even consider such a
ridiculous
proposal. “What I need to say, Elijah, is that I don't want this life for you. For us. But mostly for you. You don't want it either. The problems I've brought to your door are only miring you deeper in the muck.”

He stared at her for what seemed an eternity. His gaze was wholly focused. Intense. Finally he shook his head. Slowly.
“Dios mio, mi vida.”
His silver eyes moved over her face. “‘Miring me deeper in the muck'?” he echoed. “You don't want that for me?”

She shook her head. “No, I want you happy, Elijah. Not worried. Not in danger. Not doing things you hate with every breath you take. I want you free.”

His gaze burned her. His eyes were so silver they glowed. Gleamed. She could see his cat close.

“I don't get free you going to leave me?”

She studied his features. So still. So expressionless. A mask. But his eyes were alive. Liquid. Burning over her and into her. The hand on her thigh had gone still and he held himself like a statue. No, not like a statue. Like a leopard. Freeze-frame. Completely, utterly still. Focused.

“I'm here, Elijah. Your seed deep inside me. Your baby growing in me. You're not free, and I'm here.” She leaned into him, laying her hand against his jaw, looking into those liquid eyes. “I'm
here
, Elijah.”

“Like knowing my seed's in you, baby, but right now I want to eat you, and I can't do that. So you're going to go clean that up and I'm going to deal with the problem and then you're back in our kitchen while I fix you dinner.”

He didn't move. He kept looking at her. Making her heart pound. Making her stomach melt and that burn deep inside grow hotter.

“I still have to know we're clear on this,
mi amorcito
. This business doesn't touch you. I'll handle things. You live your life sweet and clear and I'll handle the . . .” A slow smile softened the hard edge of his mouth and crept into his eyes. “What word did you use?
Muck.
I'll handle the muck.”

She tried not to smile, or feel the heat moving through her veins. “You are definitely finding me amusing and that is so not cool.”

“Siena, you say things like you're having a word with me
when you're supposed to be angry or that I'm mired in muck, yeah, it's fucking adorable, but it's also amusing. You have to get that.”

“I get that you're not taking me seriously.”

The smile was gone and she instantly missed it. He leaned close, his fist bunching in her hair. “I take you seriously, baby
.
Very seriously. I'll watch my foul temper around our children. All six of them.”

The air was gone again. Not just from her lungs, but from the entire room. She stared up at him, mesmerized by the look on his face. By his eyes and voice. By the way his fist tugged at her hair. By the things he said to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Go clean up for me.” His hands settled around her waist and he lifted her to the floor, allowing her skirt to drop to her ankles. “And Siena, keep those panties off. Cooking for you, knowing you're right there, waiting for me, available to my hands, my mouth, my cock—I like that, a fuck of a lot.”

Her womb spasmed right along with her feminine channel. She felt the rush of damp heat and sent him a smoldering look. “I'll just go clean up. I can't wait for my first cooking lesson, so hurry, Elijah.” She walked a few steps from him, feeling his eyes. She stopped and turned slightly, heart pounding. “Honey, I know you don't want me to interfere, but I need to know Alonzo is safe.”

His face turned to stone. Absolute stone. Her heart stuttered. He stepped close, curled his hand around the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. “I thought we were clear.”

She swallowed—hard. “I know, Elijah. I thought we were, but he's mine. He feels like mine, and I didn't do right by him. He saved my life and I didn't treat him right. I need to know he's safe.”

His hands went to either side of her neck, his thumbs sliding along her jaw. “
You're
mine, Siena. That means I do right by
you
. That means you've got to trust me to make
certain your life is good. You got my baby in you. You're mine. Understand what that means,
mi amorcito
. I need to know you trust me. People are going to say things. You'll hear them. They'll treat you a certain way. You have to hang on to me. You have to know I'm doing right by you. That always, you're my first priority. Learn that now, Siena.”

She searched his liquid silver eyes. They burned. Took her breath. She read honesty there. She read the fierce, driving need of the male shifter to protect and care for his woman, his mate.

“I've trusted you this far and you still haven't told me everything, Elijah. I'm waiting for that. I know you will because you gave me your word. So I've given you my trust on sheer faith. I'm not taking that away.” She had committed to him. She had chosen him even knowing she didn't want his life. Even knowing he was outside the law. She'd still chosen him, and he was right, she had to trust him.

“Consider it learned,” she whispered.

He took her mouth. Hard. Wet. Long. Owning her. Possessing her. Then his mouth gentled and he was loving her—tender—sweet. Giving her something indescribable that tore at her heart and sent tremors through her body. He lifted his head slowly, his eyes on her, checking. Making certain she was all right.

“Hurry, Elijah,” she whispered, and turned away to head back to the bedroom.

She went by way of the atrium. The house was a labyrinth of rooms. She knew why. She knew the house was built for leopards to escape. She knew Elijah's family, one by one, had been murdered or died a violent, bloody death. This place was designed to allow him to get out when attacked. To get his mate and his children out safely. She was determined to learn every route, so she could do the same.

Her body felt sensitive, breasts achy and swollen, nipples hard, pushing against her camisole. The burn that smoldered so deliciously was hot. Not so comfortable. More delicious,
but much more demanding. She felt her pulse pounding between her legs with every step she took.

She loved him.
Loved
him. She didn't know how it happened or even why. She wasn't in love with the fantasy man she'd dreamt of for so many years. She loved Elijah with his dirty mouth and his sinful hands and his dangerous edge and unbelievable temper. She loved him with every cell in her body. With her heart and soul. She wanted to be his woman. The woman he spent every waking minute loving. Wanting. Needing.

She washed carefully, and every pass of the hot, wet cloth sent shivers through her. She changed. She couldn't help it. She chose another skirt, this one long, with more flow, falling from her hips rather than her waist, hugging her bottom, but swinging out in folds like a handkerchief around her legs to her ankles.