Wild Cat (33 page)

“You have to eat, baby,” he said softly.

“So true. I'm starved,” she agreed, and released him, turning toward the table.

He held her chair for her, making it formal. He'd lit the candles and brought the lights in the room down low. He was right about the candlelight. It loved her, dancing over her skin and hair, casting the most beautiful glow over her.

He watched her face when she tasted the dish, one of his favorites. He'd been careful not to make it too hot. He liked his food spicy but she was a novice. He didn't want to start out burning her mouth.

“It's wonderful,” she said, “perfect. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“My grandmother.” His voice went tight, and he forked a mouthful of food.

He felt the impact of her gaze. He'd been young when she'd
died. Right after his seventh birthday. He knew his grandfather had taken her from her home when she was fourteen and married her. He knew that because his grandfather liked to brag about it. She'd been a very quiet woman and she'd stayed in her kitchen. He'd sought refuge there many times.

The spices, the smells in a kitchen were comforting to him all of his life. When he was particularly upset, he always headed to the kitchen to cook. He could work out his problems when he cooked. He hadn't thought about the influence his grandmother had on him. He'd spent too much time thinking about the lives his grandfather, uncles and father had destroyed—ultimately, the lives he'd helped to destroy. None of them were good people, but that didn't matter. He had lived in the underbelly of the world so long he had come to realize there were layers of scum. Layers of bad. His family had been one of the worst.

“Honey, you're going far away from me,” Siena said softly.

His gaze jumped to her. She was beautiful. All his. “I'm never going to be far from you, baby,” he replied honestly. “I was just remembering my grandmother. I thought I just had my sister, but I had her. She gave me this.” He gestured at the food, at the kitchen.

“Do you use her recipes? Because this is really delicious.”

He nodded. “I have them all. She kept them in a book. I like looking at her handwriting. Some of the recipes were her mother's.”

“I want to learn to make them for you. For our children.”

“I can teach you. I don't mind trading off cooking. Although, Siena, you want me to bring in a chef . . .”

“No. We don't need that. I always wanted to learn to cook. I'm good at picking things up fast. I'll try a few recipes out of the book.”

“It's in Spanish,” he pointed out. “But I'll get it translated for you.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I have to get to the winery and
see what's happening with that. I can't neglect that. Too many jobs are at stake. I grew up around the grapes and the winery. I went to school for it. I don't want to lose that business because of the rest of it.”

He didn't hesitate answering her, but inside his gut coiled into hard knots. “We'll take care of that,
mi corazon
.” He didn't want her anywhere near her grandfather's estate, not until he'd ferreted out Paolo and buried him deep. The man was never going to lay a hand on Siena, and he was going to pay for what he'd already done to her. And he was going to pay hard.

She flashed him a smile. “Just thought you should know. My leopard is pretty eager to see her mate. I thought maybe they could run this evening.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me. Keeping my male mellow helps.”

Her green eyes jumped to his face. “Is it difficult?”

“I've been controlling him all of my life, baby. I'm used to the way he snarls.”

She laughed softly. “I can't believe I'm sitting here talking calmly about our leopards. It's kind of insane.”

“It's just a fact. Who we are.”

“Elijah, if we have a girl, she has to know. I don't want what happened to me to happen to her.”

He winced. Cursed himself for not realizing what was happening the first time he took her.

“Elijah?”

“You give me a girl and I'm putting you across my knee.”

“That didn't work out very well,” she pointed out, her eyes laughing at him.

His breath caught in his lungs. He loved that look on her face. He loved that he put it there. He leaned across the table toward her. “I just need a little practice.”

Her fork was halfway to her mouth and she stopped. He saw the passion rising in her eyes. Yeah, she liked his brand
of sex, no matter what he gave her. She was with him every step of the way. The moment they were finished, he was picking her up in his arms, carrying her back to his bed, and he was going to take his time, loving every inch of her body.

He saw the answering burn in her heated gaze. The hunger that matched his own. Yeah, she was made for him. His woman. His wild cat.

E
LIJAH
woke abruptly as he always did. Fully alert. Listening. His leopard reached out into the dark room and beyond, looking for trouble. Finding none, Elijah buried his face in the thick silk of Siena's hair. He'd woken her twice in the night and both times she'd given herself to him exactly how he asked. She never hesitated. Trusting him. Loving him.

The way she loved him brought him to his knees. She kissed him every single time as if she were giving herself to him. When her hands and mouth were on him, she did so lovingly, wildly and possessively. He loved that about her. She had two more visits from Emma and Catarina and after each, she'd been more than wild in bed, almost as creative as he was, thanking him in her way for the friendships.

She'd told him Emma was on bed rest for the next month before the baby was taken by C-section and she wanted to go to Jake and Emma's to visit. Today was a good day for
that because he had shit to do. Really fucked-up shit. He didn't want her anywhere near him when he was doing it.

He brushed kisses along her temple and trailed more to the corner of her mouth. His hand slid over her breasts, which he swore were already fuller, down to the soft pooch that was her belly. He loved that pooch. It was forming fast. His baby. His child. He wanted a son only because he was certain if he had a daughter she would make him as crazy as her mother already did.

“Baby, wake up for me,
mi vida
, just for a minute.”

She murmured sleepily, and the drowsy note hardened his cock, but then just about everything about her managed to do that. She didn't turn away from him, although she had to be exhausted. Her arm slid around his waist and her hand slipped down his hip. He loved when she did that. As if she was wrapping him up with her.

“Tell me what you need, honey,” she whispered, her voice soft and husky with sleep.

“You give me whatever I want?”

Her head tilted and her long lashes lifted. He felt the impact of her green eyes piercing his heart. “Anything, Elijah.”

The absolute conviction in her voice turned him inside out. He caught her wrist and inspected it, there in the dark, using his leopard's vision to make certain there were no bruises. He hadn't used soft scarves like he should have. He hadn't thought to keep them handy, in the drawer beside the bed. He'd had metal handcuffs, not comfortable, and he'd been a little feral. They had been letting the leopards out nightly and his male was ravenous for the female, feeding his own desire for Siena.

He brought her wrist to his mouth. “Gotta go, baby. I've got all kinds of shit to do. I've got a couple of boys taking you over to Emma's and they'll bring you home whenever you want. I need you resting. I kept you up, and the leopards were out a long time.”

“Where are you going?”

He ignored her question. “If you want to try your hand at cooking, I'll be home for dinner. I had my grandmother's recipes translated for you and I left the book on the island in the kitchen. Groceries are in as well. If you don't feel up to it, that's all right, call me on my cell, leave a message and I'll pick something up on the way home.” He brushed another kiss along her wrist. “You feeling all right?”

She'd been sick a lot lately. She didn't ever complain. She just went into the bathroom, and he could hear her as her stomach rebelled every single morning and several times throughout the day. She was fairly pale. He was careful not to have her go down on him anymore. He didn't want to make her morning sickness worse.

“I'm good. Don't worry about me.”

“Baby.” How could he not worry? When he called her
mi vida
—my life—he meant it. She was his life. “Don't like you sick,
mi amorcito
. Want you to stop.”

She laughed softly, her breath warm against his ribs. She moved her head to cushion it on his belly, her long braid sweeping over his body, tangling for a minute with his cock. His body shuddered with pleasure. With contentment.

“I'll get right on that, boss-man.”

“Glad you finally recognize what I am to you,” he said. “You sleep in this morning and eat something. Even if it makes you sick, baby. Doc says you have to eat. Small meals. A lot of them. And take those prenatal vitamins.”

She traced her name with the pad of her fingers into his chest. She did it often, her way of claiming him. He marked her body to brand her his. Her claiming was invisible but no less binding.

“Where are you going, Elijah?”

“
Mi vida
, I've got business to attend to.” Setting up a kingpin in Rafe Cordeau's territory. Hunting down Robert Gaton and Paolo Riso. Killing them. Burning their carcasses. Burying them deep. The usual business men attended to.

She kept her eyes on his stomach. “I'm carrying twins.”

For a moment he thought he heard her wrong. She just said it straight-out in a low, whispery tone as if she was responding to his statement. He was thinking about killing and she was thinking about life. Bringing more life into his world. Giving him two children. More
familia
. Above her head, he closed his eyes. She gave him beauty. Too much. Almost more than he could handle.

“Doc tell you?” Because Doc hadn't told him. They were going to have words about that. He needed to know how to take care of his woman. Doc had no right to keep anything from him.

“No. I don't think he knows yet. My female told me. Last night. Before we went to bed.”

She knew, and she'd still come to him every way he wanted, giving herself to him. Wild. And she'd been wild. Begging him to be harder. Rougher. Matching the primitive savage need in him.

“Should have told me right away, baby. I need to talk to Doc. Find out whether our kind of sex is going to have to wait until they're born.”

She pressed kisses into his belly. Swirled her tongue in his belly button. Nipped him with her teeth. “Don't you dare talk to Doc about our sex life. I'd be embarrassed to ever look at him.”

He laughed softly. He couldn't help it. Her wild belonged only to him. He loved that, but it didn't negate the fact that he needed to know how to protect her and his unborn children. He was rough. He liked his sex rough. He was wild. He liked his sex wild. And he liked it often. But not at the expense of his woman and children.

“Baby, if I ever hurt you, you need to tell me.”

“If Doc ever says we can't have sex . . .” She trailed off.

He bunched her braid in his hand and tugged until her head turned and she looked up at him. Reluctantly. “Where
the hell did that come from?” he demanded. He was going to
kill
Doc if he wasn't communicating.

“Emma can't. You know. With Jake. It's hard on him, she says. Catarina's not having a difficult time. Doc doesn't think she's going to have any problems carrying her baby. She's having one. But what if, down the line he says we have to stop. I'm carrying two. You like . . .” She hesitated. “You
need
sex.”

His gaze moved over her face. Her beautiful face. Anxious eyes. So worried. She still didn't get it. She still didn't understand. Her grandfather had never made her feel important. No one had. She couldn't possibly understand that when he told her she was his life, that was exactly what she meant to him.

“You think I could touch another woman after you? Loving you the way I do? Never going to happen,
mi amorcito
. Fucking never. Doc says you can't have sex we'll get creative. Your mouth is paradise. That's off-limits then I guess we'll get really good at hand jobs. Kind of like the idea of you learning how to do that for me.”

He felt her shiver. Her face was soft. Sexy. Eyes slumberous.
Dios
, but he loved this woman and he wanted her all over again. He was greedy when it came to her. So hungry for her he never seemed to get enough.

“I have to go, baby. I want you to sleep in,” he reiterated. “Go see Emma and Catarina, have a good time, but if my boys tell you to do something, you do it, no argument. You get me?”

Her gaze fastened to his. Stayed there. Intelligent. Far too much intelligence. He didn't give a damn. She might suspect all kinds of things, but he needed to know she was going to do what he told her.

“They say you leave, you get your ass home, no sassing them. They'll have orders to carry you out, you don't cooperate. And, baby, you make them do that, you'll be answering to me.”

There was no erotic note in his voice. He wanted her to know he wasn't playing around. Not with her safety. She needed to know there were certain lines she couldn't cross with him. They were hard lines. And he would do something about it. She'd be uncomfortable and not laughing when he got through with her, and she'd never forget the lesson.

“Elijah, do you think I'm stupid? Brainless?” Her tone was ominous. She lifted herself up on one elbow. “Because I'm not. You don't need to threaten me to get me to use good sense. I know you're doing something dangerous. You wouldn't be doing it if you didn't have to. I know I brought this storm down on you. I want to keep our babies safe as much as you do.”

She had that tone. That attitude. The one that teased his cock into one hell of a hard-on. Painful even. Perfect. She looked pissed, but adorably pissed. How the hell did she think he could take her seriously when she was propped up naked next to him, one soft breast pressed deep into his side, the other resting on his abs?

“Sorry, baby. You going to have words with me over this?” He couldn't resist, because seriously, who said that kind of thing?
Words.
He loved that.

“Yes we are,” she said. “More than words.” She leaned down and bit him. Hard. Right on his belly.

The bite of pain arrowed straight to his cock. He yanked on her braid, to bring her head up, but her tongue was already soothing the ache. He heard her muffled laughter.

“You do that again and you'll make me late. Won't like that, baby.”

She turned her head, her lips whispering against his belly, sending little flames dancing over his skin. “Yes, you will. I'll make certain of it. But . . .” She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I think, unfortunately, our babies have other ideas.”

With that, she flung back the covers and rushed into the bathroom. He lay there, one hand over his eyes, listening to her, wishing he could figure out how to stop her morning
sickness. Hating it. Hating he couldn't take it away for her. She didn't complain. Didn't blame him. Didn't in any way act as if carrying his child—his children—was a burden. He loved her all the more for that.

He heard the water in the sink. Her scrubbing her teeth. She did that a lot. He moved then. Because if he didn't move, he was going to be late, and they needed to be on the road. In truth, he should have left hours ago. They were headed to New Orleans. Jake had given them the use of his private jet. He needed to establish a new boss in what very soon was going to be open territory again. Joshua Tregre was going to be that boss.

Drake Donovan had married into a family of law enforcement. None of them could take that title with any believability. Elijah dressed slowly. He'd given a lot of thought to whom he could set up in that position and make it work. He had discussed it with Drake, Jake and Eli before approaching Joshua and laying it all out to him, laying it out that from the moment Joshua took over Cordeau's territory, he'd live a shit life. It would change Joshua's life. Forever. He would lead a double life, the same way Elijah was leading one. The same way he was going to ask Alonzo to lead one.

Joshua would have to do things he didn't want to do, things that would cement his role and title in the underworld. Their network would grow—was already growing if they could just keep from being killed. Soon, Elijah knew he would have to sit down with Siena and have the conversation he'd been avoiding.

What did one say to the woman he loved? How did he ask her to do that kind of shit with him? To put her and his children through that? He kept it from her as long as he could, hoping he could find a way to make her so into him, so in love with him that there was no other choice but to stay. Now, because of his decision, Joshua would have to have a similar conversation if he found a woman. And Alonzo.

He pulled on his clothes, clothes he could remove fast
when he needed to shift. Everything from his jeans and shirt to his boots had been specially made for that purpose. He could strip and shift on the run, and he was fast. He had to be. He didn't want the others to be responsible for the things he knew he had to do. Robert Gaton had put out a hit on both him and Siena. He'd sent a sniper to his home. He was sending others. He was leopard, and he was a criminal.

Gaton knew Elijah's reputation and he knew that wasn't going to fly. Still, Gaton was dumb enough to do it and that meant he had a plan in place. Elijah suspected Gaton aligned himself with Paolo. Elijah had already taken steps with the council to let them know he was taking over the Arnotto territory on Siena's behalf and Alonzo would be running it. He had even intimated that when the time was right, the territory would be Alonzo's alone and he would remain as a consultant and friend, a business partner, but Alonzo would have complete control once he knew the ropes.