My Estranged Lover (Middlemarch Shifters Book 5) (16 page)

Isabella was right. The shapeshifters were like regular families. They cared for their children and each other. Although none of them had approached her at the lake, she couldn’t blame them after her knife-wielding panic. Her job to make the first move.

Now that she was calmer, she could act and think with logic. They’d been at Glenshee Station for almost a week. Everyone she spoke with or fed in the homestead kitchen had treated her with care and respect. She’d seen the way Cam worried about Maria, witnessed the strength of their marriage.

If she and Marsh could have the same strong, loving partnership, she’d be a happy woman. Isabella was right. She’d talk with Marsh, ask questions.

Caroline sighed. She wished Marsh had told her sooner because she felt like such an idiot.

Marsh trotted over to her, herding their shrieking sons. He stopped to shake and Caroline clapped her hand over her mouth when Ricky copied, shaking his head until drops of water flew in all directions. He looked cute. Happy. James, who was quieter than his younger brother, dropped on the sand beside her.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes. I’m hungry.”

Caroline pulled out cookies and drinks. She expected Marsh to shift, but he flopped onto the sand beside her.

“Don’t you want a drink?”

Marsh stretched closer and licked her hand, a grunt emerging from deep in his throat. She didn’t understand his response. He wriggled closer and nudged her hand with his head, then waited, those bright green eyes of his communicating expectation.

Enlightenment came slowly, but she understood. He wanted her to touch him. While she sensed he wouldn’t hurt her—he’d never struck her in the time they’d known each other, so there was no reason for him to start now—her hand trembled.

Her hand slid over the top of his head, and when nothing happened, she repeated the careful slide of fingers over his wet fur. With daring, she scratched behind his ears and he tilted his head to give her better access. A rumbling purr sounded, and surprised, her fingers stilled.

“Daddy is purring,” James said.

Caroline’s head jerked up to study her sons, her cheeks heating. For a second there, she’d forgotten their presence.

“I love Daddy,” Ricky said and threw himself at Marsh. He giggled when Marsh licked his cheek.

Marsh and the other black cats drying their fur on the lakeshore didn’t scare James or Ricky.

“Have you seen cats before?” Caroline asked Ricky.

“At school we learned cats,” Ricky said. “I like cats lots and lots.”

“That’s good.” Something else to ask Marsh.

James shivered, and she glanced at Marsh. “Should we go? The boys look cold.” Around them other families were packing up to return to their homes.

Marsh stood and shifted. Ignoring the fine white sand clinging to his skin, he pulled on his jeans and sat on a nearby log to don his boots.

Caroline dressed the boys, and they set off home. Although her life had taken a sudden right-hand turn, this afternoon had been one of the best she could remember.

* * * * *

They didn’t talk until after the boys were in bed.

“Are you okay with me sleeping in here with you?” Marsh asked.

“Yes. I know you won’t hurt me. I might pester you with questions though, and I’m still confused. A little angry.”

Marsh puffed out a breath, the tension residing in his shoulders lifting. At least she was willing to listen. After seeing Caroline’s initial reaction he’d thought she might prove difficult. Saul had scared her, but she’d calmed down. The boys were fine. Ricky wanted to know when he could shift to a cat. He’d been very disappointed to learn that it wouldn’t happen until he reached his teenage years.

James seemed equally excited and their secret exposure throughout the week had helped ease Caroline. Not that he’d known the school syllabus included feline history. It made sense since there weren’t any human children in the class. The more the children knew the better for them to find their place in this modern world.

Marsh stripped and crawled into bed. Caroline took longer in the bathroom, and when she shuffled into the bedroom wearing her bright pink wooly slippers, she wore a thick nightgown.

No lovemaking tonight. Marsh sighed, since part of him had been hoping.

“I won’t pounce on you, Caroline. All you have to do is say no.” His voice came out flatter than he’d intended, with a thin layer of accusation. He swallowed. Damn.

“I was cold,” she said, her nose lifting in challenge. “If I was that worried, I would have told you to sleep on the couch.”

They stared at each other, turmoil in her gaze that he suspected echoed his.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “This can’t be easy for you. Ask your questions. I’ll answer anything you want to ask me, but know this up front. I want you. Our marriage. I want a future with you and our children.”

She nodded and kicked off her slippers. She hesitated a fraction longer and whisked her nightgown over her head before climbing into bed.

That small act, one of courage on her part since her immersion into an unknown truth, eased some of the pressure on his chest. He blew out a breath. “I can warm you.”

She slid across the width of the bed and into his arms. His feline gave a loud purr and Marsh did nothing to halt the catlike sound.

“You’ve made that sound ever since I met you.”

“Yes, it’s my feline part. He loves you as much as I do.” God, he’d have to tell her about the mark. No more secrets. “Caroline, I need to tell you something else, something I did a few nights ago.”

She froze in his embrace, then pulled back to study his face. “What?”

He swallowed, nerves, the like of which he’d never experienced before, tromped across his stomach lining. A sweat broke out on his brow, and he swallowed for a second time, his feline snarling.

She started, and he realized the sound had squeezed free and wasn’t just in his head.

“Sorry. My feline is agitated. Let me explain. When a feline finds his mate, he marks her, biting her on the marking site, the fleshy pad where the neck and shoulder meet.”

Her hand crept up to the spot, her fingers massaging the tiny raised scar his bite had left. “You marked me.”

“Yes. I…I couldn’t help myself. From the moment I met you, I wanted you. My feline recognized something in you and drove me. I wasn’t unhappy when you became pregnant.”

“Why didn’t you tell me at the start? We married, had a child on the way. Why didn’t you tell me the truth then?”

Marsh flopped over on his back and stared at the ceiling. “My parents. They didn’t want me to marry you. They’ve always been against matches with humans and were outspoken when Saber mated with Emily. But they couldn’t turn their backs on a child who would be a shifter, so we made a deal. They let us live in the farm cottage as long as I kept our feline shapeshifter status secret and didn’t mate with you.

“In hindsight, it was a stupid decision because it set us up to be at my parents’ beck-and-call. But neither of us had any money, and we had James on the way. I thought it was the only choice, and I still felt guilty about Angus’s death. I made a mistake and Angus died. My parents have never let me forget that.” Marsh stopped talking and turned his head to glance at Caroline. She was still fingering her mark, and the sight had an immediate reaction. His cock filled and lengthened.

“Knowing your parents, I can understand your decision. I talked to Isabella this afternoon. She helped me see the alternatives.”

“Which are?”

“I walk away from you and the boys or I stay.”

Marsh flinched at the reality. “Any children we have will inherit the feline gene.”

“Yes, which means as a human I don’t have the knowledge of how to help them when the shapeshifter gene takes over. In their teens?”

“Yes, I shifted for the first time when I turned thirteen.” Marsh glanced at her as a thought occurred. “Occasionally, a shapeshifter will shift at an earlier age.”

“When?”

“Sylvie Mitchell shifted for the first time at age five. That was just before Felix and Tomasine came here. It was safer for them.”

“Shit,” Caroline said. “I don’t want to think about our children shifting early. Are there signs?”

“Yes. Our bones start aching and we dream of cats.”

Caroline frowned at his words. “I guess if we know what to look for. You’ll explain to the boys?”

“Yes. I’ll talk to James because he’s the same age as Sylvie. I don’t think Ricky will understand yet.”

Caroline nodded. “Isabella told me someone wanted to kill Tomasine. She also told me about Lisa Jordan and her human stalkers.”

“It’s Mitchell now. She mated with Sam Mitchell, Saber’s cousin.”

“I think Isabella’s point was that it doesn’t matter if we’re human or shifter, we can still be in danger. There are some strange people in this world.”

“Yes. My parents aren’t warm and fuzzy.”

Caroline barked out a laugh. “I’m glad we came to live at Glenshee.”

“Me too. It’s easy to see that the boys love it.”

“Yes. Tell me more about the mark since I have one. What does it mean?”

“It’s a signal to other male shifters that tells them you’re claimed. It ties me to you emotionally. Physically too, I guess. It’s made you more disposed to stay with me and the enzymes that I passed to you during the bite will help you live longer.”

“How long do you live?”

“Longer than a human. One hundred and thirty years, sometimes longer. Our appearance changes more slowly than a human. We can still die in severe accidents and diseases such as cancer can kill us, but on the whole we’re healthier than the average human.”

“How do you get on when your official age is over a hundred? Don’t people notice?”

Marsh frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it, but I suppose the Feline council deals with that sort of thing.”

“You have a Feline council?”

“Yes, they’re the ones who organized the Middlemarch ball and have started the new activities around the town. The craft market, the upcoming zombie run, the padlock fence. They raised the funds to build the new sports field and changing rooms. It’s the feline elders who are on the council. You remember Sid?” At her nod, he continued. “Saber Mitchell is on the council. He’s the youngest member. He took over from his Uncle Herbert.”

“I can’t believe I never noticed. You did shift, I presume?”

“Yes, but I stayed in human form on the farm.”

“I feel so stupid.”

Marsh rolled over without warning, pushing her flat on the bed and caging her with his strength. She blinked up at him, her blue eyes widening. “You are my mate. You are not stupid. We are a secretive race and have thousands of years of hiding our identity from those who would use us. I promise you—none of the shifters at Glenshee are laughing at you. If anything, it’s me who is receiving their censure.”

When she didn’t reply, he dipped his head to steal a tentative kiss. For a second, Caroline didn’t respond and his heart clenched in disappointment, then her arms crept around his neck, holding him to her. Relief filled him along with a purr that vibrated his lips.

Caroline’s giggle remained trapped in their kiss as he took control, tasting and teasing her until she moaned. One hand caressed her neck, his callused fingers strumming her mark.

“Marsh,” she whispered in a thick voice. “That feels so good. I always wondered why you kept nipping me there.”

“My feline trying to exert control,” he said. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to claim you as my mate. It didn’t seem right when you didn’t understand.”

“But you marked me this week.”

“I know. I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Does it make me a prick when I say I love seeing the mark there? It makes me want to puff out my chest and strut.”

She laughed. “Why does a puffer pigeon come to my mind when you say that?”

Marsh growled, allowing his feline to emerge without restraint. “Don’t insult me, woman. I’m a black leopard shifter.”

“Can I mark you?”

“Yes, but it won’t leave a mark like yours—at least I don’t think so,” he added with a frown. “You need to ask Emily and Saber.”

“Or I could experiment.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, the action filling him with joy. He thought Caroline might accept him, his otherness, after all.

“Kitten, experiment on me anytime.”

“How hard should I bite?”

“I heal fast, and the mark always heals rapidly. Yours did.”

“Yes, I expected to have a sore spot the next morning. It surprised me when I didn’t.”

“And it’s best to bite during sex, during climax if possible.”

“Okay.” She pushed him off her and crawled to the bottom of the bed. Before he could ask, she grasped his cock and slid her hands up and down his shaft. Her mouth closed around his tip and he gasped.

“Christ, woman. Don’t bite me there.”

He felt the shudder of laughter in her body, then she sucked and licked, sending his mind in an entirely different direction.