Claiming Valeria (14 page)

“And a chocolate, too.”

With Merry occupied, Branco turned to Rui. “Now,” he said, “let
me have a look at you. If Valeria will give me a hand—”

Together, they eased Rui out of what looked like his best shirt.
His jaw tightened, but he bore it stoically. The purple linen was torn and bloodied.
Valeria shook her head and set it on the floor.

“The pants, too,” Branco said.

They helped Rui out of his pants, leaving him in black briefs.
Even bruised and with an ugly slash across his lower abdomen, the sight of his big
body sprawled on her couch made her breath catch. And he knew it, the bastard. His
lips curved and he slanted her a knowing look from beneath inky black lashes.

“Mama,” Merry called from the kitchen. “I can’t reach the chocolates.”

Valeria dragged her gaze from Rui’s and crossed the room to get
the box. She felt him watching as she let Merry choose one before setting the box
back on the shelf. She could tell he was wondering if Petros had given them to her,
but he was too smart to ask.

Branco was running expert hands over Rui’s body. He sat back
with a satisfied nod.

“Other than that cut in your belly, the news isn’t bad—a couple
of cracked ribs and a slight concussion. Ordinarily, injuries like these would take
you a few weeks to recover from, but with the energy you received from Cleia, you
should be fully healed in ten days or so. But Filipa is right, that cut has to be
closed up before it gets infected. Relax and focus on your breath.” Branco lightly
placed his hands on the nasty-looking gash in Rui’s lower abdomen. “That’s it. Now
visualize the energy going here, where you need it.”

Rui closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Branco touched a tender
spot, and Rui’s jaw clenched, his breath changing to shallow pants.

“Easy now,” murmured the healer. “Keep breathing.”

Rui nodded and let out an exhale. But he was pale under his tan,
his lips taut with pain. Valeria pulled up a chair and clasped her hands between
her legs, wishing she could help. She told herself that her worry was only natural,
since Rui had been injured defending her and Merry, but that was a lie. It was agony,
to see him hurting, worse than if she’d been injured herself.

The healing seemed to take a long time, although when she checked
only thirty minutes had passed. Merry finished her ice cream and sat on the floor
beside the couch, her hand on Rui’s wrist. When Valeria tried to shoo her away,
Branco shook his head.

“No, leave her. She’s helping.”

Valeria subsided. Rui turned his palm over and captured Merry’s
small hand in his. Valeria’s heart lurched. She wanted to hold his hand, too. She
wanted Merry to have a father again. She wanted—oh, so many things.

Was it possible? She felt like a weather vane, spinning wildly
between hope and distrust.

Unable to sit any longer, she got up to tidy the kitchen. When
she returned, Rui was sitting up, his swollen eye open and clear, although surrounded
by a dark purple bruise. Most of the rest of his bruises had already faded to a
healing yellow-green and the gash on his stomach had closed, leaving behind a ragged
red line.

Branco had Merry on his lap and was murmuring something to her.
The healer smiled up at Valeria. “She’ll be fine now. I told her if she goes to
sleep now, tomorrow this will seem like a bad dream.”

“
Obrigada
,” Valeria said gratefully. Although Merry hadn’t
been hurt physically, she’d been through a tough day, emotionally. And seeing her
uncle—who she’d clearly loved—attack her mom and Rui had to have been traumatic.
The last thing Valeria wanted was for her to go through another bout of nightmares
like the ones after her dad died. “For everything. If there’s anything I can do—”

Branco set Merry down and came to his feet. “It’s my pleasure.
All I ask is that you continue raising this fine daughter of yours.”

Valeria smiled and tried not to think of the Baltimore shifters.
“I will.”

Branco turned to Rui. “You should be able to make it back to
your own apartment now, but don’t do anything strenuous for at least a week. Move
too soon, and that wound in your belly is going to split open again. And trust me,
an abdominal infection is no joke.”

Rui nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“I stopped the internal bleeding and healed those broken ribs,
but concussions can be tricky. Even a slight one can cause problems. Just in case
it’s worse than I thought, I’ll arrange for someone to sit with you tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Valeria heard herself say. “He’ll
be staying with me.”

Branco’s brows lifted but all he said was, “Even better. He should
continue icing that lump on his head for the next day or so—it’ll keep the swelling
down. And tonight, you should wake him every couple of hours. Make sure he knows
where he is. If you can’t wake him or if he seems worse—dizziness, a severe headache,
vomiting—send for me immediately.”

“I will.”

He frowned. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You look like you
could use a good night’s sleep yourself.”

“I’ll handle it. Don’t forget, I have an able assistant.”

Merry cocked a thumb at her chest. “That’s me.”

“I can see he’s in good hands,” Branco said with a wink. “And
Rui,” he added sternly, “no alcohol for the next week. Not even a glass of wine.”

“I won’t,” Rui promised.

Valeria almost snorted. Rui without a drink was like a fish without
fins. Although that wasn’t quite fair. He’d made an effort to be sober around Merry.
And his scent was free of alcohol right now—and had been since he’d assumed command
of the base in Dion’s absence.

“Excellent. Have a good sleep.” Branco patted Rui’s shoulder.
“I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.”

With Branco gone, Valeria gave Merry a quick bath and put her
to bed. The little girl was so tired she didn’t even demand her usual book, although
she did make a detour into the
sala
to kiss Rui goodnight.

“
Boa noite
, princesa
,” Valeria heard him rumble.

When Merry returned, Valeria sat on the mattress and pulled her
into her arms, nuzzling her neck and breathing in her sweet little-girl scent.

Oh, Deus,
she could never let her go.

Especially not to the Baltimore shifters. The stories about them
were dark, frightening. Lord Adric was rumored to have murdered his own uncle. She
recalled again those hard eyes in a deceptively boyish face, the way he’d tried
to hypnotize her into handing over Merry. A man like that wouldn’t give up easily.

But Marjani. She was obviously tough—she’d had to be, to survive
the years of vicious fighting—but she’d seemed like a nice person. And she’d been
so happy to see Merry.

And Jace. His expression when he’d looked at Merry had been so
hungry…a hunger Valeria understood all too well. He wasn’t going to give up
either, and if the earth shifters were to be believed, then Merry needed to be with
him and Valeria was selfish to insist on keeping her.

No
, something within her cried.
Maybe you’d love her
too, but I don’t care. She’s mine
.

She hugged the little girl so tightly she squealed. “You’re squeezing
too hard, Mama.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Good night now.” She gave Merry a last kiss
and watched as she turned onto her side, one arm thrown over the clown doll that
was never very far from her.

She gently rubbed Merry’s back. She’d do anything to keep her.

Anything.

When she returned to the
sala
, Rui was reclined on the
couch, eyes closed. He looked so comfortable that she hated to bother him. She turned
to tiptoe from the room, but he opened his eyes.

“Don’t go.”

She came closer. “Do you feel up to taking a shower? Or would
you rather go straight to bed?”

He came to his feet. He had to struggle a little, but he was
definitely moving easier than he had even an hour ago. “A shower.”

But he stayed where he was, looking around. Valeria realized
he’d never been in her apartment. She saw him take in the plump blue couch, the
large painting of a sunset over the Chesapeake, the colorful cushions scattered
on the floor for Merry and her friends. The heated terracotta floor that
Rodolfo and Sabela had helped her install for Merry, whose cat craved warmth.

“I like your place,” Rui said, turning back to Valeria. “It feels
like a home.”

The naked yearning on his face tugged at her heart. She wanted
to wrap her arms around him and promise him…what?

Instead she took a step back. “The bathroom’s this way.” She
pointed down the hall. “There are towels on a shelf near the toilet. You can’t miss
them.”

“Thanks.”

She waited until she heard water and then poked her head inside
the bathroom. There was no shower curtain; instead, the shower was concealed behind
a curved tiled wall.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice rumbled from behind the wall. “I could use some help
washing my back.”

She
knew
it was a ruse. But there was a weary note that
drew her inside anyway. Shucking her dress and undergarments, she came around the
wall.

Rui was leaning against the opposite side of the stall, letting
the water sluice over his body, but when he saw her he straightened up.

“Valeria.” By some miracle his mouth had escaped the battering
the rest of him had taken. Now it curved in a slow smile as he took in her unclothed
state.

She was used to being naked around others; in a clan of shapeshifters,
sooner or later you saw everyone unclothed either before or after a shift. But that
smile made her flush from the breasts up. Her nipples prickled and hardened.

He swallowed and met her eyes.

She held out a hand. “The washcloth, please.”

He looked from her to the cloth in his hand as if he couldn’t
remember what it was. “What—oh, sure.” He handed it to her.

She circled her finger. “Turn around.”

He obediently gave her his back.

Ah, Deus
. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. He was darkly
tanned all over, and he might have been out of shape but you couldn’t tell from
this angle. She watched, fascinated, as water slid across his broad shoulders, down
his spine and over the firm slope of his buttocks.

Desire pooled in her belly, warm and liquid. She itched to touch
him, to run her fingers lightly over all that smooth olive-brown skin and the solid
muscles beneath. To press her aching breasts against his back. To rub herself against
that taut ass like a cat in heat.

Instead, she soaped the washcloth and began to scrub his back—lightly,
so as not to press on his bruises.

He braced himself with a hand on the wall and sighed. “That feels
so good,
querida
.”

“Mm,” she said. Because it felt good to her, too, and she wasn’t
sure how she felt about that.

She soaped up the cloth again and then knelt to wash the backs
of his legs. When she got to his feet, he turned to face her. She lifted each foot
in turn and, setting it on her thigh, scrubbed it thoroughly, including between
the toes.

He groaned and she raised her head to see his cock, flushed and
hard, just a few inches from her mouth. His lungs were heaving and he had his eyes
closed, his free hand fisted at his side.

She finished with his feet and rose back up. Soaping the cloth
one more time, she cleaned his chest, rubbing over the wiry black hairs and flat
copper nipples. She avoided his ribs and the gash on his abdomen but ran the cloth
carefully around his erection and under his balls.

His eyes opened. They were dark with arousal, the black lashes
spiky from the water. “You’re evil, woman.”

“Am I?” She finished by cleaning his penis, pulling back the
foreskin and easing the cloth over the sensitive tip. She’d started this because
he needed the help. She’d continued because her animal was reveling in the chance
to touch him after all these months. And because maybe she
was
enjoying a
little revenge.

“Yes. You’re torturing me—and right now I can’t do anything about
it, and you know it.”

He was right. She was a bad, bad woman. She turned away to conceal
her smile. “You don’t have to wait for me,” she said as she started to wash herself.
“You must be exhausted.”

A strong arm wrapped around her waist. Then his big body pressed
against hers, his erection hard against her buttocks. She stilled, aware of him
with every single one of her nerves.

“I’ll go,” he rasped against her neck, sending a shock of arousal
racing over her skin. “Because I hurt too much to take you right now. And because
you deserve a whole man, not one who’s still recovering from too much drink and
too many women. But we
will
finish this, Valeria. I meant what I said about
claiming you. You’re my mate, and I
will
win you back.”

She held herself stiff, refusing to let her spine unbend even
a single inch. Because if she gave him that inch, she might surrender the whole
of her. He waited for a few seconds and then when it was clear she wasn’t going
to reply, pressed his lips to her nape and released her. She waited until he was
on the other side of the wall and then released the breath she’d been holding.

After drying off, she pulled on a tank top and cotton capris.
Rui was already in bed. She considered sleeping with Merry, but if anything went
wrong in the middle of the night, she’d never forgive herself. And she was safe
enough with Rui—as he’d said, he wasn’t in any condition to try anything tonight.
And even if Rui were healthy, he’d never take a woman against her will.

He was sleeping on his injured side, which Branco had explained
was the best for broken ribs, allowing for deeper breaths. He’d pulled up the sheet
but, afraid he’d get chilled, she unfolded the simple blue-and-lavender quilt at
the base of the bed and tucked it around him. She’d thought he was asleep, but he
opened his eyes to look at her, his gaze soft with fatigue.