Lion's Heat (19 page)

There was an edge of discomfort whenever he was around Rachel, which Jonas hadn't yet figured out.

"Contact me immediately if you so much as sense anything," Jonas ordered him. "I'll be working tonight, then Rachel and I have to fly back to D.C. tomorrow afternoon for a meeting with the House Appropriations Committee concerning satellite usage. I want the heli-jet and Alpha Team One providing security for the trip and the meeting, as well as the return."

Mordecai gave a sharp nod as Rachel moved toward her and Amber's room. As Rachel's door closed, Mordecai turned back to him.

"What?" Jonas questioned as Mordecai stared at him silently.

"Merinus was forced to leave the safe room just after the male mates left. She was in the hall for long moments. While there, David became very agitated. He was pacing the room, and though he was fighting to hold them back, I could hear the tiny growls rumbling in his chest. He had all the appearances of adolescent feral fever, Jonas."

Jonas's jaw clenched. "I'll talk to Callan and Ely and see what they think."

Mordecai nodded. "He's a good boy. I'd hate to see his head messed with feral fever."

As Mordecai left the cabin, Jonas blew out a hard, silent breath. Feral fever had caused the scientists to kill too many young Breeds while they were still in the labs. Jonas had hoped the hybrid Breeds would be immune to it.

Moving to the kitchen, he quickly pulled a prepared meal from the freezer and shoved it in the oven. He hated damned microwaves.

Setting the temperature, he moved to the coffeemaker and flipped the switch to start the brewing process for the already measured grounds of coffee, then set out two cups, bowls and spoons.

Chili was one of the few things he could prepare well. That and coffee.

Turning at the sound of the bedroom door opening, he watched as Rachel reentered the room. She had taken off the exquisite dress and replaced it with soft cashmere lounging pants and a top. Her feet were covered with pristine white socks, her long red hair brushed until it fell down her back in a soft, satiny ribbon.

Seeing her dressed more comfortably, her face devoid of makeup, her demeanor softer than it was in the office, gave her an even more delicate, petite appearance.

She barely cleared his chest at five foot six inches. In heels, she went no taller than his shoulders. She was so damned tiny he was almost scared to touch her.

Fear was something he wasn't used to feeling either, not in any regard. Confidence was, at times, a fault where he was concerned, and he knew it. When it came to Rachel though, confidence was something he invariably found himself lacking.

"Is Amber sleeping comfortably?" he asked as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Like a baby." Her lips tilted up in amusement. "That child could sleep through a bomb, I believe. As long as her diaper is dry and her belly is full."

She was an unusually peaceful child, Jonas had to admit. Even for her young age, Amber was content to watch everything and everyone when she was awake.

"I'll have something ready for us to eat in a few minutes," he promised as he poured the coffee. "You have to be hungry."

"Starved." She leaned against the counter, staring up at him, her gaze quiet, intense.

Jonas could almost hear trouble brewing in her mind. The woman had more questions than China had rice at times.

Rachel watched as Jonas moved around the kitchen, still dressed in the mission uniform, a weapon strapped to one thigh, a knife to the other.

He was the badass he was rumored to be, there was no doubt. But there was a softer part of Jonas that few people saw, that he took great pains to hide. A part that she had often glimpsed, even when she knew he would prefer no one see.

It was the same part that had him fixing her coffee, and long minutes later preparing her meal before he set it on the table. She had never had a meal prepared for her, that she could remember, by anyone other than herself or her sister. Even Devon, when they had lived together, had never bothered to fix her so much as a glass of water.

But here was Jonas, tough, hard, coming down from the surge of adrenaline that she knew came from battle, and he was fixing her coffee, chili, a salad. There were crackers and fruits and bread. Everything laid out on the table for her to tempt her appetite.

"I'll get fat at this rate." She moved to sit in the chair he pulled out for her, and felt a start of surprise as he helped her adjust it.

"Your metabolism is too well-adjusted and you're too physically active to get fat anytime soon." He took his own chair and began digging into his own food.

Breeds consumed vast quantities of food to power those gorgeous, powerful bodies.

There had actually been a television special concerning Breed eating habits. It had amazed her that producers would even think of such a thing.

The meal progressed quietly. As she finished, Jonas removed the dishes, stacked the dishwasher, turned it on, then moved to the doorway.

"I need a shower and I have some papers to go over before the meeting tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

He left her sitting in the kitchen, alone.

Rachel stared at the doorway incredulously. He had just walked out, moved across the living room and entered his own bedroom as though she were no more than a guest.

She blinked as she fought to grasp this new attitude.

She would have expected to be fending him off tonight, not wondering why the hell he hadn't at least given her the chance to do so.

The knowledge that she wouldn't have minded the chance to do so had her lips quirking in a smile. The arousal that had slammed into her body the second she had seen him in that mission uniform hadn't abated.

When he had walked into the safe room, his tall, corded body outlined in the protective wear, she had nearly lost her breath. The black material only emphasized the height and breadth of his body, as well as the living mercury of his eyes. He looked more a warrior than she had ever seen him before.

Jonas's normal attire was silk suits and conservative clothing. She'd never seen him dressed outrageously, as some Breeds were prone to. No skintight leather or combat boots. He was every inch the conservative politician if one cared to ignore the dangerous aura that surrounded him. Or the gorgeous body. Or the sheer sex appeal.

She breathed, wishing she had better control over her attraction to him. For more than seven months she had fought the heated longing she felt each time she saw him. As she learned more about him, she'd had to fight it even harder.

And what she had seen tonight had made her see even more of the man he was.

The monitors in the safe room covered every area outside the safe house. She had seen him when he had met his sister in the entrance to Sanctuary.

The tenderness he had displayed toward her, the sheer agony on his face as she had cried in his arms had broken Rachel's heart. There were facets to Jonas that would take lifetimes to figure out. And there were others, such as his love for his sister, that were clear to her right now.

So many saw him as manipulating, calculating: A man who deserved little respect because of the pure power he displayed. But Jonas was so much more than that. He manipulated to ensure the safety of the Breeds. He calculated to ensure the happiness of those close to him. He did what he had to do to provide a measure of safety to Sanctuary as well as to Haven, and to bring the Breeds into a cohesive society that projected the appearance of invincible strength.

It was the only way to survive, she knew. The Breeds were facing an uncertain future in many ways. Laws could be changed on a whim, and what was theirs now could be taken from them tomorrow. It had happened in the past to other races. Rachel had no doubt that the Breeds too faced that threat.

Rising to her feet, she paced to the living room, then to her room. She was looking at a long night. Sleep had never seemed so far away, nor had it ever seemed so unwanted.

The rest of the week seemed to progress much as that night had. The day was filled with meetings, wrapping up projects and completing the move of the main office to Sanctuary. There seemed to be very little time to actually talk to Jonas, or to figure out what the hell they were going to do after the move.

It wasn't as though they could go back to the same routine that they had had before. Yet Jonas seemed determined to do just that.

He was more distant that he had ever been, and the time they shared together became few and far between.

She found that by living in the cabin with Jonas, though, there were benefits. He began slipping into her room and taking Amber for her feedings throughout the night.

Not once during the week had she woken to her daughter's fretful whimpers for a meal or a dry diaper. Once, she had awakened to see him bending over the crib, returning her daughter to her bed, his expression caught by the light of the lamp next to the small bed.

It had been a father's face, full of gentleness. The face of a man who had claimed a child--whether by blood or by love--and now carried through with the responsibilities of that job.

For long moments he had stood watching Amber, dressed in nothing more than a pair of soft cotton pants, his chest and feet bare.

Rachel had felt such a surge of emotion, such pure arousal, that for a moment her breath caught.

He had turned then, as though drawn by the power of what she had felt, his gaze locking with hers.

Not a word had been said. He had turned and walked from the room so quietly that she wondered if he had ever been there. She had never caught him again, though she knew he fed Amber nightly. The bottles were always washed and sterilized, sitting on the counter awaiting her the next morning, and diapers were in the waste each morning.

It was a routine they had begun to fall into, and it was one that was wearing on her nerves as she felt his hunger growing as well as the arousal beginning to build within her.

No one could claim this was mating heat, she thought as she watched him carry wood into the cabin for a fire that night. Not that they needed it so much for the warmth. She had learned while living on Sanctuary that the Breeds, for all their technology, preferred classic comforts. A comfortable seat, a fire, steak and potatoes, a cold beer. Many even still carried the outlawed bullet- and shell-loaded weapons from decades before rather than the laser-powered weapons that were more effective when set to stun or wound, rather than kill.

Not that their enemies didn't use the same weapons. Bullets were still preferred by many of their attackers, simply because they did more damage to the body with the same effectiveness of the new weapons being introduced.

Society in general was all about less bloodshed and more humane weapons, or so advertising proclaimed. At least, for those who cared about the damage caused or about leaving others less defended.

"Rachel, before you leave the office, contact Senator Tyler and ask him if he'll move the meeting set for tomorrow in D.C. out here. The Weather Service is calling for heavy snow tomorrow and I'd prefer not to get grounded by a blizzard."

He moved from his office into hers, a frown edging at his brows to indicate his irritation as he faced her. Jonas didn't mind the snow unless it ended up delaying something he wanted or needed to do.

"Anything else?" She made a note on the electronic reminder she used.

She heard him mutter something--she knew she had. But when she turned back to him, he was merely glaring back at her with the same expression he'd had moments ago.

"Did you say something else?" she questioned him in confusion.

"I said you could work naked, but I doubt you're into that." The glare became more intense.

Rachel just barely kept her lips from twitching. "I could, but don't you think Lawe and Rule might be a little uncomfortable when you start all that growling stuff?"

His expression stilled, no doubt in shock. It wasn't the first time he had muttered something; it was simply the first time she had confronted him over it.

As she watched, the arousal, the pure hunger he always seemed to keep a lid on, flared in his gaze for just a second before he managed to hide it once again.