Gambler's Folly (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) (18 page)

“Oh. Okay. So you are all, well, what do you call yourselves.”

“We, you included,” Damiano told her, “are were-cats. Just like people who become wolves are were-wolves, people who become bears are were-bears.”

“I never heard about anything but were-wolves. How bizarre! Why don’t I feel any different from anyone else?”

“How would you know, cara?” Damiano asked her. “You were born the way you are, so you’ve never been non-were. And since you’re a woman, you never had to go through that awkward period of changing at inconvenient times.”

“Like going through puberty?”

“Exactly, only it’s while going through puberty. That’s when a lot of us guys go to private schools.” They all nodded at her.

“I can see where that would be, well, inconvenient,” she agreed. “So, if you can change whenever you want to, can I see?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s rude.”

“Well how about when we’re alone. I mean, we’re mates, right? So when can I see?”

“We’ll talk about it later, cara.”

“Leopard, huh? More of a pussycat.” She got a low, chesty growl in return and the other two chuckled.

“Yes, Damiano, you have definitely met your match,” said Paolo.

They talked for a little while longer, finished the wine, and then Marco and Paolo took off to get ready for the evening.

“So, Tiger, what shall I wear tonight? I’ve got all these scratches, which I’d really rather not show off.”

“Tiger? I am not a tiger. I’m a leopard.”

“I know, but Tiger is more often used as a nickname. I can’t go around calling you Leopard-boy.”

“But why Tiger?”

“Humor me, alright? I know several women who call their men Tiger, as a term of affection. It’s supposed to mean they’re strong, handsome, powerful, all that sort of stuff. Only in a cute, affectionate way.”

“We’ll see. So if I’m going to be Tiger, I need something to call you, don’t I? Let me think about it. Maybe
Gattina
, Kitten. Or perhaps Topolina, Little Mouse.”

“Alright, Kitten I can understand, but Little Mouse?”

“Because, when compared to a great cat like me, you are a Topolina, a little plaything.” He looked very smug about it.

“You will pay for that one, Damiano Leone,” she threatened. And that’s when the fight started, which ended passionately in the middle of the floor.

“So, my little plaything, if we are going to have dinner and check on my business, we should get dressed and go downstairs. If you think you can do without me for so long a time.”

Still pinned to the floor, she told him, “I’ll show you plaything, you beast.”

“No more beast than you, cara, and who is pinned to the floor?”

“That’s not relevant,” she complained.

“I disagree. It’s very relevant in a game of cat and mouse. Especially when the cat is on top.” He reached down and nipped her shoulder, maneuvered her to where he could kiss her hungrily once again, and snapped at her face, barely missing the tip of her nose. “Now if you can behave yourself, I’ll take you to dinner. Maybe a little cheese?”

Karianna wore a lovely burgundy gown, with a high collar, a shapely bodice reminiscent of a bustier, and a pencil skirt, which were overlaid with floating layers of chiffon. The chiffon over the low-cut bodice was split in front, showing small, quick glimpses of flesh as she moved. The bodice lining was cut so low it barely covered the essentials, and the floor-length skirt was slit high in the front, showing off her gorgeous legs more than halfway up her thigh. The sleeves were a matching chiffon, very full and fastened by pearl buttons, as was the collar, and she wore pearl and diamond earrings to match.

“You’ve managed to combine Victorian prude and expensive prostitute tonight, cara,” Damiano told her. “A Victorian whore more like, if this afternoon has any bearing.” His eyes twinkled with delight.

“And how do I come out a whore in all of this? I was attacked, mauled and taken without so much as a ‘by your leave.’ I could as soon call you a sexual predator.”

“But of course I am. I’m male, a leopard, and I love sex, especially with a tasty little plaything like you, Topolina.” His eyes were seductive as he blew her a kiss across the table.

They took their time browsing the gaming rooms. Damiano placed one or two small bets. “Kiss me for luck, amore,” he said the second time and she made sure he felt it down to his toes. She hoped he’d lose, as he usually did. He claimed it was bad for business if he won very often. So naturally, he won. Raising a glass of champagne, he addressed the patrons, “A toast to my lovely wife. May she always bring me good luck.” The kiss she received was at least equal in firepower to hers.

Shortly after, they saw Marco, who met them with a wide grin on his face. “So, Damiano, are you planning another night like last night?”

“Once was enough. Why?”

“Your scent is in the air, amico, and that of your mate. The atmosphere is beginning to have an effect.”

As they looked around, the patrons who came in together as couples were more amorous than usual, especially on the dance floor. The singles among them were hunting, searching for someone who might give them a chance.

Damiano laughed. “I hadn’t really given it much thought. I suppose since we’re mated, the scent isn’t as obvious to me as it would have been. But I can sense it now. It is different than before, no?”

“Yes, it is,” Marco confirmed. “You are now a mated pair, hunting together. Of course you are mainly stalking each other it seems”—he grinned—“but your scent speaks of sex and the hunt.”

“Do you suppose it will be bad for business?” Damiano asked.

“I don’t know. It seems good tonight. Everyone is happy.”

“Then, my little Topolina, maybe we should dance.”

“Topolina?” Marco was confused.

“You know, a little furry plaything the smaller cats toy with. Which if you’re very careful, you can play with for a long, long time.”

She thought Marco was going to wet himself.

Out on the dance floor, held closely to her mate, Karianna knew what it meant to feel like you were in heaven. His strong arms holding her, his scent like a cloud around her, she laid her head on his shoulder, eyes closed in complete contentment. Feeling his strength, she thought of him naked, the play of those chiseled muscles as they made love, and she felt a tingling begin, which spread throughout her entire body.

A soft, low rumble in his chest brought her eyes open to look up into his. “Cara, your scent grows strong. Unless you want me to have you right here, please contain your emotions. I am, after all, only male.”

She noticed his scent was increasing, now that he’d made her aware of it. And Marco was right. It was subtly different from before. It still attracted her strongly, but instead of a frenzied attraction, it was more an attraction to completeness, as if she could truly be complete only when joined with her mate, body and soul.

Of course the more she thought about it, the stronger it all became, even though she really did try. “I don’t think it’s working, Tiger,” she told him.

“Maybe we should go upstairs. Time to play, my tiny Topolina.”

Since he was Damiano, and expected to be eccentric, nobody objected when he took his wife in his arms and kissed her ravenously right there on the dance floor. Nor did they say a word when he then swept her off her feet and carried her to the lift, kissing her teasingly as he went.

Well, when an evening starts out this way, it only grows hotter. While their lovemaking this evening wasn’t quite what it had been the evening before, it still took everything she had to give. Hours later, she woke up and looked around at the chaos which was their living room. Seeing Damiano still stretched out in the floor sound asleep, she rejoined him there and drifted off.

In the morning, she was awakened by the smell of coffee. Opening her eyes, she saw her mate coming in with a tray bearing coffee and croissants with honey. Her stomach grumbled its complaints as she got up and moved over to the sofa.

“It seems we barely made it in the door last night,” she said, looking at the room around her.

“You are lucky you made it out of the lift, cara. You must learn to control your emotions now. I’d never really thought about it before last night. I’d assumed, once mated, your scent would go back to being attracting only, not compelling.”

“Is it as bad as the bonding scent?” she asked.

“Very nearly. Of course, it could be, once we’ve been mated for a while, I will get used to it. Or that you’ll gain more control and not release so much when we’re out in public.” Grinning widely, he added, “It could become rather embarrassing otherwise, don’t you think?”

She thought about it for a couple seconds, imagining the scene here last evening occurring out on the dance floor. “I suppose it could raise a few questions down at the police station. This may take some getting used to.”

“Yes, dressed the way you were last night, it would seem I’d decided to get into the prostitution business and sample the merchandise. I would at least have to take out a license.” She threw a cushion at him, making him laugh.

Damiano had some meetings later in the day. He’d postponed a couple of them due to their bonding and the exhaustion the following day. So now, he had to catch up on business. She kissed him a warm and lingering kiss on his way out.

“Gattina, you must stop! I have to concentrate when I get there. So behave yourself, or I’ll spank you when I get home.”

“Promises, promises,” she retorted, closing the door.

She did need to get a hold on herself, though, she decided. Her kiss and the resulting reaction had begun to arouse her way out of proportion. She had teased before without having this happen. It must have something to do with being bond mates, the new scent he had, something in their biochemistry.

Time for a cold shower.

Even the workout didn’t help relieve the tension. It just made Carl a little distracted and grumpy. She took a long, hot shower afterwards and then turned the water all the way to cold. Gasping for breath, she stayed under the icy needles as long as she could stand. Dried off and dressed, she went back to their suite to find something for lunch.

Nothing on the menu sounded good and there was nothing in the kitchen she wanted, either. Thinking about it, what she really wanted was a cheeseburger with chips. Damiano’s establishments were too upmarket for something that plain, so she called Dante to see if he could find it for her.

He could and he did, and it was marvelous! Alright, it wasn’t really on her diet plan, but once in a while couldn’t hurt. Anyway, she’d work out harder the next day.

Damiano still wasn’t home, but he was still on her mind. She sat down with a cup of tea to think about all that had happened during the past couple of days.

Were-cats. A very strange concept, she thought. And not only that, she now had a bond mate, a mate for life. It really kind of scared her, as she didn’t have Damiano’s certainty it would all work out. I mean, how do you know you can trust biochemistry and genetics to be there for you, when the chips are down?

And speaking of different things, what about that old expression, ‘when the chips are down’? She was here because of Trae and his gambling, well, mainly his losing. Because he bet his possession of her and lost, she had been won by another man, the one to whom she was now bonded. Just how was that fair?

Alright, another part of her mind cut in, it might not have been fair, but it hasn’t actually been bad. Damiano is kind, intelligent, affectionate, passionate, good in bed, and has loads of money. So you’re bound to him for life. If what he says is true, you’ll never tire of him, or he of you. You wouldn’t have wanted to bond with him if he hadn’t been what you needed.

Yes, according to him, she interrupted again. How do I know he’s telling the truth? Maybe he’s just a really good liar.

Okay, arguing with yourself is really bad, she thought. And I think I’m losing. But she had picked up that whole ‘good in bed’ train of thought again.

Why did she miss him so much today? He was usually gone longer than this and she’d been fine before. Right now she could attack him on sight she wanted him so badly. What the hell was happening?

The more she thought about things, the more upset she got. There had just been too much change in her life, perhaps, what with the bet, the marriage, Trae’s death, several attempts to harm her, and now this crazy bonding thing. It’s no wonder she was upset, she thought. The wonder was that she was still unsedated.

Part of what upset her was something Damiano said, at some point after the bonding. His role was to dominate and hers to surrender. She’d known men before, some of her friends had married them, who dominated their wives and made their lives hell. They couldn’t have friends over, couldn’t go do anything on their own. They were always running and fetching things for their husbands, and it seemed nothing they did was ever right. They would show up at work or at the gym with bruises, supposedly from falling, playing with the kids, running into a door. Anything but the truth, that their husband had beaten them to hell and gone, over some stupid trivial thing.

She had decided a long time ago that any man who tried that with her was going to wish he’d thought twice about it. And now she was bonded to someone whose role was to dominate her completely? How would she cope with that?

The more she thought about the whole thing, the worse her mind made it, until she wasn’t sure if she was angry, depressed, or scared. Huddled up on the sofa, she gave vent to her feelings and then dissolved into tears.

When Damiano came in, she was still there, rocking back and forth and sobbing.

“Cara mia, mia amore, what is wrong?” he asked, sitting down and reaching out to comfort her. She pulled away and sobbed even more.

“Cara, please talk to me. What is wrong? Are you ill, has someone harmed you? Have I done something to make you cry?”

Looking up at the concern in his eyes, she collapsed in his arms, crying on his broad chest, with his scent all around.