Melted By The Lion: A Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance (15 page)

But, standing several feet away, he didn’t respond, just turned his gaze away from my face and scowled even harder. His amber-green eyes were seeming to darken even in the late afternoon sun, and his strong jaw was clenched. From a subtle movement, I could tell he was grinding his teeth.

“Trevor, please. The way you were looking at me when you came over, it was like you actually—”

“I don’t hate you, Savannah.”

He shifted his gaze to my face, and though he was still glowering, dark brows nearly colliding, I could see some trace of
something
within his eyes, something I couldn’t even identify, that told me that the words he’d spoken were true. To my extreme relief, he didn’t hate me. Which really, I should have never believed could even be possible. During the brief time I’d known him, I’d seen for myself exactly how he’d acquired his reputation for being so stern and fierce, though he’d never once given me reason to believe he had potential to be hateful to someone, especially someone he cared about. Or at least
had
cared about. I fully realized that just because he didn’t hate me, that didn’t necessarily mean he still cared about me.

Continuing to cradle Princess against my chest, I looked into Trevor’s eyes, trying to beg him with my own not to look away. “Then, if you don’t hate me, please talk to me. Tell me how mad you are. Just please don’t ever again look at me that way again. I’d rather have you let your anger out than—”

“No.” He stared off into the gum trees for a second, lips pressed together in a tight line, then gave his head a quick shake, as if having decided something with finality. “No. A talk between the two of us isn’t happening right now. I’m too angry for talking. I’m miles beyond too angry for talking. Just walk home with me right now.”

Without another word, he marched from the trees to the trail and began heading south. With a profound weariness just beginning to replace my still-ebbing adrenaline, I followed him, literally biting my tongue, although gently. If he didn’t want to have a conversation right now, that was fine, and I’d try my damnedest to respect that. But before he stewed in his anger at me, before that anger possibly even increased as he mulled things over, I felt like I should at least be given a chance to explain myself. I should at least be given an opportunity to explain about the predicament I’d been in with Princess, and the thoughts and fears I’d had, and the choice I’d eventually made. I figured that once Trevor had heard my side, at the very least, his anger at me wouldn’t increase no matter how long he held off on the two of us talking things out.

While we silently walked a short distance down the trail, this wanting to explain myself became less
wanting
and more
desperation,
until finally, despite Trevor’s stony-faced expression, I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer, either literally or metaphorically.

“Trevor, we don’t have to talk right now, but I just want to tell you that I’m truly sorry that you and your men had to come and fight off the gators. And I just want to explain to you exactly why I made the choice I did. That’s it, and you don’t even have to respond after I’m done; you can just wait until you’re ready to—”

“Not one more word, Savannah.”

“Trevor, please. Just let me explain why I did what I did.”

He abruptly turned toward me, coming to a stop and stopping me as well with a firm hand on my arm. “Not. One. More. Word. Do not speak to me again until I’m ready to discuss what just happened, whenever that may be. I’m so angry at you right now I’m afraid I might respond by saying something I’ll later regret. Am I clear?”

The steel present in his voice, juxtaposed with the memory of the warmth in his voice the previous evening, was almost more than I could take. I could tell he’d just spoken to me in a tone usually only reserved for his men. And probably particularly undisciplined and young ones at that, likely members of his extended pride and not his much smaller, elite “core pride” that had just fought the gators with him.

With tears suddenly prickling my eyelids, I just nodded in response to what he’d said, deeply regretting my decision to insist upon explaining myself. He just didn’t want to say something out of anger that he’d regret later. I got that now, and honestly, I’d kind of had that idea earlier, but my desperation to be understood had made me push when I should have let all talking wait until later, as he’d asked. Besides, I now realized that if he was ever going to understand my reasons for doing what I’d done, he’d probably be more inclined to do so once his anger wasn’t quite as hot. I did, however, still fear that there was a chance his anger could intensify the longer we went
without
talking, but I’d just have to hope that wouldn’t be the case.

After a final stern look at me, he continued striding down the path, still stony-faced. I followed, a bit behind him and to the side, not wanting to see the lack of warmth in his features even out of the corner of my eye.

We walked along in near-silence, his boots and my tennis shoes making only the softest of noises on the grassy, pebbly, overgrown trail. Every so often, the hammering of a woodpecker sounded briefly. The still, humid day began to seem even more stifling and oppressive. A few times, Trevor’s brisk march became so brisk that I had to kind of trot to keep up with him, and each time, he soon slowed, seeming to realize that I couldn’t keep up.

After my earlier error in judgment, I was determined to give Trevor space and not speak. If days even went by before he was ready to talk things over, that was fine. I’d just have to find a way to deal with it, because after what we’d shared the night before, I didn’t want our brand new relationship to end. I wanted him to forgive me and give me another chance. If it even took weeks without us speaking in order for that to happen, then so be it. I’d simply become very adept at biting my tongue.

However, not long after we’d crossed the orange stakes and were back within town limits, I cringed inwardly because I had to un-bite my tongue and say something right then, though it wasn’t directly about what I’d done or our relationship. It was about Princess. She’d managed to doze off for a few minutes while I carried her against my chest, but she’d just woken up and had made the most piteous, hoarsest little series of barks I’d ever heard. Clearly, she was dehydrated and probably thirsty beyond belief. And no wonder, after how far she’d run in the muggy Louisiana heat. Though I’d had half a bottle of water, she hadn’t even had a single drop, since she’d taken off running again at that time, and then the gators had surrounded us when she’d finally come to me later. Trevor and I were going to have to stop so I could give her a drink now, and also maybe get her out of the urine-dampened bag and clean her up a little. And in order for us to stop, I was going to have to break the silence, whether Trevor liked it or not, and whether me speaking to him when he’d specifically told me not to made him even angrier at me or not.

So, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady my nerves and voice, I accelerated my walking pace a bit, moving from sort of behind him to directly beside him. “Trevor? Can we please stop for a minute? Princess is dehydrated and hurt, and I’d like to stop to give her a drink of water. I’d also like to get her cleaned up a bit, because she had an accident in her carrier bag.”

Trevor showed no sign of response for a long moment, just kept on walking, glowering, and right then, I made a decision. Regardless of how mad he was at me, and regardless of whether or not he’d ever be able to forgive me, if he refused to stop so that I could give Princess some comfort, and cleaning, and a drink, if he forced us to continue along the trail without letting me do all that,
I’d
never forgive
him
. I’d never take him back into my bed again, and I’d never open my heart to him again. Never. No matter what. I knew I could never be with a man who would show such cruelty as depriving a tiny, helpless creature like Princess a drink of water.

Another long second ticked by, and I realized I was holding my breath. But then, without turning, or even glancing at me, Trevor dipped his head in the slightest fraction of a nod, the movement near-imperceptible. But it was enough. He was going to wait.

I came to a stop, and so did he, folding his arms across his chest and staring into a thick copse of jewel green short-leaf pines. I lifted poor Princess out of her carrier bag, knowing that she wouldn’t try to escape from me or run anymore. She was clearly too tired for one thing, and for another thing, I was sure she was convinced by this point that I was her friend and just wanted to help her. Confirming this, she nuzzled her head against my chest with a little whimper once clear of the bag.

I couldn’t easily hold her while I poured water into my hand and gave her a drink, though, and I realized Trevor was going to have to do it. He was going to have to hold the dirty, bloodied, urine-soaked dog that had started the day’s events in the first place. I realized I would be seriously pushing my luck in the request, but it had to be made.

“Would you mind holding Princess for a minute so I can pour her water and let her drink?”

Trevor snorted, glaring into the pines, but then he turned, and when he saw Princess’ tiny, bedraggled form in my arms, his expression immediately changed, clearly softening. The inside edges of his dark brows actually angled upward. But just for a second. Then, all business, he took Princess from me without a word and resumed his study of the trees, scowling. Though maybe not as hard as he had been earlier.

After pouring some water into my cupped hand, I offered it to Princess, who surprisingly, or maybe not, considering how tired she was, was seeming perfectly content to be held by Trevor. She took a few inquisitive little sniffs of the water, then began lapping it up in a way that could have only been described as
furiously
. Very soon, I quickly refilled my hand, then again and again and again.

Near the end of her fourth handful, she seemed to have quenched her thirst, and I gave her a few pets and rubs on the back of her neck, murmuring to her that I wished I had something to clean her up a bit with. I’d been thinking I’d use the last of the water and a cloth of some kind to freshen up her fur, but I’d realized that other than my clothes, which were dirty and sweaty, I didn’t have any kind of soft cloth that could be used for cleaning. Trevor, who’d been looking off into the distance, expression unreadable, the entire time I’d been giving Princess her water, now shifted her to one arm, reached into one of his back pockets, and wordlessly handed me two clean, folded bandanas, one red, one blue. Being that it was nearly always hot and humid, it seemed like every man in Beaumont City carried a bandana or two at all times, to wipe away sweat. I took Trevor’s gratefully, saying a quiet thank you, though he didn’t respond.

He maintained his stoic “present-though-not-present” demeanor while I dabbed at flakes of dried blood on Princess’ head and around one of her eyes, cleaning most of it away. When I gave the strongest-smelling parts of her fur a mini sponge bath with a fresh, dampened bandana, he helpfully shifted her in his arms a few times so that I could get to different parts of her, though he did this frowning and still without looking at me. It was better than being glared at.

Even though my primary focus was obviously on Princess while I attended to her, I couldn’t help but be a little distracted. Specifically by Trevor’s lightly tanned biceps peeking out from beneath his t-shirt sleeves, and the way that shirt, well-fitted, revealed the hard contours of his broad chest. Even with him being so angry at me, and even as exhausted as I was, it seemed I still couldn’t be in such close proximity to him without my gaze periodically wandering. Trying to force myself to stay on task, I briefly recalled our lovemaking of the previous night, and my face became even hotter than it already was in the late afternoon sun.

Once I’d finished cleaning up Princess as best I could with the bandanas, my thoughts about Trevor took a decidedly less-steamy turn, and my only desire became to join Princess in the strength and safety of his arms and just be held by him. All because of a small little movement he made that he probably didn’t think I’d see.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

While I wadded up the bandanas and jammed them in my pockets, telling Trevor that I’d wash them and return them, I caught a small movement of one of his hands, just out of the corner of my eye. Looking out into the forest with a stern expression, still clearly angry, he moved a few fingers to briefly stroke Princess’ bony back in an obvious, though maybe unconscious, gesture of comfort. If he was even aware he’d done it, I was sure he hadn’t intended me to see it. His expression and silence told me that he was still trying to communicate to me how mad, and hard, and cold he was feeling.

But I
had
seen his small gesture of comfort to Princess, who was curled in the crook of one of his well-muscled arms, her little smaller-than-an-apple-sized head nestled on his chest, looking like she’d never have run from
him
. For whatever reason, she’d seemed to instantly take to Trevor, despite him not exactly being the warmest of people during the short time she’d known him.

Feeling as if something in my chest had melted into a pile of complete mush when I’d seen him caress Princess, all I wanted to do now was fall into his arms and have him hold me, maybe with him whispering how he wanted to make me happy in every possible way, like he’d done the night before. I knew this wouldn’t soon be happening, though.

Although I’d come to think as much the night before, it was now crystal clear to me that Trevor had a deep well of love and compassion in him, though he’d buried it deep inside when Rachel had been killed, and now he was burying it again because of what I’d done. No matter how long it took, I needed him to un-bury that well again. Realizing that I cared about him deeply, had fallen in love with him, actually, despite his current level of anger at me, I could hardly stand the thought of never again experiencing the warmth he was capable of displaying; the warmth that I knew was deep in his heart, that he
wanted
to display.

Hoping that he’d say yes for Princess’ sake if not for mine, I asked him if he might be willing to take us the rest of the way home on his back while in lion form. “I know you probably don’t want to because you’re still angry with me, and that’s fine, but I think Princess needs to get to the shelter and Dr. Ericson as soon as possible, and I’m getting so tired I think my slow walking is going to delay that by at least twenty minutes if we stay on foot.” Pausing for a second, I had a thought. “Or, if you don’t want to carry
me
on your back right now, maybe you could at least continue holding her in your human form and just go on ahead striding fast how you do. We’re far enough within town limits by now that I know I’ll be okay to walk the rest of the way alone.”

Stony-faced, Trevor didn’t say anything, just handed Princess to me, moved away from us a few paces, and then shifted into his lion form, golden brown and enormous. Watching him with big eyes, though big eyes that didn’t display any fear or alarm, Princess still seemed completely comfortable and taken with him. Holding her close, I swung a leg over Trevor’s back to get on, then grabbed a hank of his thick mane with one hand, and off we went.

Despite the current off-the-rails status of our relationship and the low-level anxiety that was currently causing me, I soon couldn’t help but feel a sliver of something that felt like joy at the same time, an extremely odd combination of emotions. I couldn’t help it, though, couldn’t help but revel in the experience of actually riding on a lion’s back for the first time, and not just any lion, but one I’d fallen in love with. It was exhilarating, and I felt completely safe. Keeping me perfectly balanced, to the point that I really didn’t even have to focus on remaining balanced myself, Trevor moved down the trail at a decent clip, something between a trot and a full-out run, the muscles in his back rippling with his every movement. Seeming to be enjoying the experience as much as I was, Princess looked straight ahead, every so often making a few little yips, yips surprisingly energetic for a tiny girl who’d been through so much.

I would have been happy if our ride would have lasted hours. But, after only a few minutes, Trevor cruised up to the tree-lined entrance of the shelter, paused for me to dismount, and then immediately took off without so much as a glance in my direction.

Once inside the shelter, I handed off Princess to Dr. Ericson, asking him to please bring her to the house once he’d examined her and had attended to her head. I’d get her sterilized very soon, like I had with all the other animals I’d rescued, but considering the day she’d had, the present didn’t seem like the right time. After giving her a few kisses and some cuddles, I trudged up the short trail to the house, slipped inside and down to my room in the animal wing without anyone seeing me, and then got into a lukewarm shower in my master bathroom. Rascal, Buddy, and Snowball, who were all zonked out on my bed, hadn’t even stirred when I’d entered the room.

After my shower, I dressed in pajamas, even though it wasn’t even yet dinnertime, and joined the cozy group on the bed, pulling a stirring Rascal into my arms. Soon I was knocked out along with everyone else, descending into a hazy dream where Trevor was running from me, not Princess. And no matter how hard I pumped my legs, I just couldn’t quite catch him.

When I awoke hours later, the clock on my nightstand told me it was a quarter to eight. What had pulled me out of my dream was a very soft knock on my door, one I recognized as Jeannie’s. I mumbled for her to come in, and she opened the door and poked her head in.

“Oh, you
are
resting. I thought you might be, because I heard what happened today, and I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought you might like to have a quick bite of dinner before attending Commander Beaumont’s meeting. He specifically asked that you be present.”

Still groggy from sleep and wondering if I’d forgotten something, I sat up. “What meeting? What’s it for?”

Jeannie frowned, drawing her graying brows together. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what the meeting is for. All I know is that when Commander Beaumont returned from the forest a short while ago, he told me he’d be holding a meeting here at the house at nine sharp. Which is unusually late for him to have a meeting, but apparently he needs to share or discuss something very important.”

“With who, though? Do you know who’ll be attending besides me?”

“Well, I’d expect the usual crowd—the members of Commander Beaumont’s smaller ‘inner circle’ pride, as well as his advisors, who are some older shifters well past their fighting days. Most of their wives also attend, and even though they don’t bear the official title of advisors themselves, the commander has been known to take advice from these women on occasion, even on crucially serious matters, which I think is smart on his part. Sometimes I think the wisdom of just one older woman can exceed that of a hundred men.”

“Well, why does Trevor want
me
there?”

Jeannie shrugged, frowning again. “Your guess is as good as mine. He just said for me to ask you to come, as the topic of the meeting concerns you.”

Thoroughly baffled, I just sat for a long moment, hugging the blankets to my chest. “Well, was Veronica invited, too?”

“I asked the commander just that, if she was also to be invited, and he seemed to have to think about the question briefly, as if deciding something, before saying that he
would
invite her and would do it himself.”

I sat mutely, just trying to make sense of it all. I couldn’t imagine what topic at a meeting of Trevor’s pride and advisors could concern me personally.

After a few moments, Jeannie gestured for me to follow her out of the room. “Come on. Grab a bite and then you can come back here to change out of your pajamas for the meeting. Gerald just brought a hot plate of that lemon-pepper shrimp you like so much out to the casual kitchen for you. All the sides, too.”

I
did
love Gerald and Sophie’s special-recipe lemon-pepper shrimp, which they always served with green salad, buttered corn, steamed redskin potatoes, and fluffy cheddar-scallion biscuits that were to die for. But right then, preoccupied as I was about Trevor’s mysterious meeting, I could hardly even think about food. However, just as I was about to ask Jeannie if she could please just put my plate in the fridge for later, my stomach growled, and I realized that despite all my physical exertion of the day, I hadn’t had a bite since having half a sandwich and an apple for lunch. Deciding that maybe I
should
get a little sustenance in my system, I got out of bed. Whatever Trevor’s meeting would be about, something told me that I might need strength.

Once I’d eaten, I returned to the animal wing to change, surprised to see light beneath a crack in the closed door at the very end of the darkened hallway. This was an exceptionally spacious room that Snowball seemed to like to lounge in even better than my own, and now that there were just three animals left in the wing, I’d been leaving all bedroom doors open so that they could roam free-range and come and go from the various bedrooms as they pleased. A sliding wooden door at the entrance to the corridor kept them from wandering throughout the whole house, because I wasn’t exactly sure how Trevor would feel about that. Judging by how horrified he’d seemed when Snowball had used the potpourri in the formal living room in front of him, I figured I should probably give things some time.

Once she’d been properly litter trained, Snowball had proven to be not only an exceptionally friendly, loving cat, but a smart cat, too, most of the time striking me as much smarter than Rascal and Buddy, who both had similar clownish, sweetly dopey personalities. It seemed as if Snowball even understood language at times, once plopping down on my feet immediately after I’d muttered to Rascal something about how I should have worn socks to bed because my feet were cold. Though despite her intelligence, I had strong suspicions that she hadn’t yet devised a system to shut a bedroom door and turn the light on. Someone had to be in the bedroom at the end of the hallway at present, but as to who, I couldn’t imagine. As far as I knew, no one ever set foot in the animal wing except me, and sometimes Jeannie, to check on the animals and let them out to go to the bathroom if I was gone for a long stretch. However, Jeannie had given the animals their dinners and then had let the dogs out while I’d been eating, not to mention that I’d just left her in the kitchen not a minute before.

Intrigued, I began padding down the hallway toward the room I’d come to think of as Snowball’s. Maybe Jeannie had simply left the light on, I reasoned, or maybe one of the other staff members had wanted to visit with the animals. But about halfway down the hallway, I could tell neither of these scenarios was the case. Someone was in the bedroom crying. Sobbing, actually. And with such mournful-sounding, shuddering exhalations that I could tell the person’s heart was positively breaking.

With my own heart pounding, I continued creeping closer, hardly able to believe my ears. By the vocal tone of the sobs, I was pretty sure who was making them, and when I got close enough to be certain, maybe two feet from the door, I came to a stop. There, I just stood, absolutely tip-me-over-with-a-feather-level stunned.

*

The bedroom door was open just an inch, and through this slim crack, I could see Veronica sitting on the bed, crutches beside her. She held Snowball to her chest and was sobbing into the side of Snowball’s furry neck, shoulders shaking. The half of her face that was visible was contorted in anguish, mouth open and eye squeezed shut, and her cheek was wet with tears. A few tears were even dripping from her chin. Purr motor running so loudly I could hear it each time Veronica paused to inhale, Snowball was nuzzling Veronica’s neck, obviously trying to be comforting, like the sweet girl she was. A single lamp on one of the nightstands illuminated the scene.

Though she certainly wasn’t the nicest person in the world, and we certainly weren’t friends, seeing Veronica in such a state of profound pain caused my own heart to break as well. And as much as I had a feeling that I should backtrack down the hallway and give her privacy, I wanted to ask what was wrong and make sure she was okay.

So, very slowly, not wanting to startle her, I pushed open the bedroom door. “Hey, Veronica? Are you okay?”

I
had
startled her. She’d actually jumped just about a foot off the bed.

Now thinking I should have maybe backtracked down the hall and then re-approached with loud, highly alerting footsteps or something, I cringed. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to startle you. I should have—”

“What do you want?”

She’d recovered from her startling quickly, raking the back of a hand across her eyes, and she now glared at me, tears seeming to have shut off like a faucet.

Cringing again, this time because of disappointment at hearing her usual icy tone when I’d thought she might actually open up to me, I stepped inside the room. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I was just coming down the hallway to change in my room, and I couldn’t help but hear you crying. Really hard.”

“I
wasn’t
crying. I just came in here to see if this cat was still acting as weird as it was the first day I saw it. And it is. I wasn’t crying.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I heard—”

“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”