Wild Cat by Christine Feehan
He lifted his head slowly, trailed kisses over her cheeks and up to her eyes, brushing the wet lashes. "Can't take it when you're hurt, baby. Breaks something inside of me, but this is my fault. I should have taken the time to go over those recipes with you. If you ever get hurt when I'm not close by, promise me you'll call one of the boys to help you."
She shook her head without actually thinking about it. Clearly she didn't want to call one of the men to help her. She didn't know it, but that was huge for him. He didn't like the idea of any of the men holding her hand or wiping her tears. Still. She should have had treatment immediately.
"Why didn't you call them?"
She shrugged. "It didn't occur to me. I was waiting for you. If I'm being honest, I'm not that comfortable with any other man but you."
He closed his eyes briefly. She definitely was killing him. He liked that more than a fuck of a lot. Way too much.
"And I wanted to finish the dinner. I might have burned my hands, but I think I did it right."
She looked up at him with her tear-drenched eyes. Her long, feathery lashes. Her bone structure. His heart started hammering in his chest.
"Do you think you could try to salvage the dinner? Maybe finish it? I want to see if I did the salsa right for you. It's important to me, Elijah."
Something inside him broke. Shattered. Maybe it was his heart, because his chest actually hurt. Her eyes moved over his face. Her eyes. Green. Piercing. Exotic. So beautiful. But she could see inside him to the small, vulnerable spot he kept hidden. It wasn't so hidden now. She'd exposed it to the world--at least anyone watching him would see it.
"You can kiss me again," she said softly.
"I can kiss you?" he echoed, not really following her.
She nodded solemnly. "Right there is the reason I can overlook all your f-bombs and ridiculous temper. That look you have on your face, right now. It's for me. It's mine. I love you like that, Elijah, so much it's terrifying."
He stared down at her upturned face. That face. He wanted to wake up to that face the rest of his life and still, it wouldn't be long enough. He was glad he was leopard, a shifter, living more than one life so he could find her again and again.
"Kiss me, honey," she ordered softly.
He crouched low, wedging himself between her legs. It was a place he liked to be. She lifted her face to his. His heart nearly stopped when, whisper-fine, her lips trailed fire from his jaw to the corner of his mouth. Her teeth tugged on his lower lip, bit down, pulled and then her tongue came out to soothe, just as he'd done to her.
He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, his thumb sliding along her high cheekbone, making that sweep of her soft skin. His mouth found hers. Gentle. Rubbing his lips along hers. Sliding his tongue just to taste her. Taste the sweetness that always undid him. There was heat. Silk. The velvet rasp of her tongue along his. Need was there instantly. Hunger. But it was love he tasted, and it tasted fucking good.
Elijah deepened the kiss, feeding the burn between them. Her hands slid up his chest, leaving a trail of milk. She gasped. Whimpered. He lifted his head alertly and caught her wrists.
"Baby," he whispered softly. He brought her hands up to his mouth. "Let me get the aloe vera. We grow it fresh in the atrium. I'll coat your palms with it and this is going to feel a whole lot better."
She nodded. "Thanks, Elijah. I knew you'd know what to do. But really, finish the dinner."
"I'll make you something you can eat as well," he said, and stood up reluctantly. "Stay out here where the fumes won't get to you. I'll be right back."
He hurried back into the kitchen, saw that she'd blended the salsa properly and also had gotten the shrimp ready, peeling them. He caught up a frying pan, poured in a little olive oil and sauteed the twenty raw and peeled shrimp quickly with a little garlic salt and ground pepper. He added the salsa, and then turned the heat down to low to allow it to cook for the required twenty to twenty-five minutes.
Siena had already made the avocado dip and she'd used jalapenos. It was going to be way too hot for her to eat. He'd have to whip up something else for her. That wouldn't be hard. He strode into the atrium, cut some aloe vera stalks and made his way back to her. Truthfully, the aroma in the kitchen was making him hungry.
"Forgot to tell you, baby," he said, as he gently smeared the fresh aloe vera over her palms. "A notary is coming with the license for us to sign."
She went still. Her gaze jumped to his face. "License? What kind of license?"
"Told you, mi vida, we have to get the license before we can get married. Seventy-two hours or something stupid like that. So we need to get this done. Jake's lawyer knew someone who agreed to come out to the house."
"A marriage license?" she echoed.
"Baby, keep up," he said, a little impatiently. "We discussed this."
Her gaze remained steady on his. "You told me we were getting married and you weren't nice about it. I didn't think you meant it."
"You love me?"
She nodded.
"You carrying my babies in your belly?"
She nodded again.
"I love you too. So we're getting married before we have kids. I want my ring on your finger and your name to be the same as mine. Means we have to fill out bullshit papers, then we do it."
She stared up into his eyes for so long he was fairly certain she was going to have a few words with him. The idea made him hard all over again. Or maybe he'd remained hard even while he cooked. His reaction could have been from just looking at her. That could do it as well. That face. Those eyes. Her hair. Mostly that expression. The one that told him she loved him even when he was bossing her around.
"Honey, you came home to me. You came home you."
His heart clenched. "Yeah, baby. I did that."
"It was bad."
He didn't want her to see that. "Yeah, it was bad," he acknowledged, his tone warning her to leave it right there.
She nodded. "Thank you for coming home. I wouldn't do very well without you."
The knots in his belly unraveled just a little more. "Need to go whip up food for my woman, and I don't want the shrimp to overcook. It looked perfect." He gave her that because it had. He loved that she cared enough to cook for him. He didn't want her to ever do it again, but still, his woman wanted to do that for him. "The kitchen should be aired out enough for you to come back inside."
A slow smiled curved her mouth. Soft. Sexy. His. She stood up, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"You're not going to give me shit because the notary is coming tonight?"
"I don't give you the s-word, Elijah," she said primly. "I give you words. Do you want our children to talk like that?"
He pretended to think about it. Dios, but he loved his woman. Especially when she gave him that sassy voice. Standing up to him when few men dared.
"I like it when you give me words, mi amorcito. Makes me hard."
She rolled her eyes, just like he knew she would. He burst out laughing. Her green eyes jumped to his face, watching him. She liked watching him and he liked her doing it.
He pulled out a chair and she slipped into it while he made his way around the center island to pull out a pan.
"What's the difference between my leopard showing me twins, or basically acknowledging two babies, and her indicating more than one?" she asked casually.
He was chopping vegetables and the knife stopped in midair. "Say again?"
Siena had been watching him intently but at his question she pulled back, looking a little alarmed. "Why are you saying it like that? In that tone? Emma and Catarina freaked me out already. Don't you start."
"Your female didn't specify twins or show you an image of two? She said more than one?" He felt his heart pounding. Hard. Without answering, he reached for his male. The lazy bastard was sleeping, ignoring the conversation. He'd done his work for the day, wasn't going to be able to be with his mate and was tired.
My mate is pregnant.
&
How many?
His male had been around a long time. He knew what that meant. He immediately sent the impression of three.
Elijah drew in a deep breath. He felt Siena's eyes on him. Hell yeah, he'd gotten her pregnant. They'd been crazy wild on the floor together. But three? Triplets? Who had triplets? How hard was it to carry them? He needed to call Doc, like now.
He dumped the vegetables in the pan with a little bit of olive oil, chopped up a chicken breast and added that in as well, all the while avoiding her green eyes.
"I'm going to grab you some gloves while this is cooking."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I will in a couple of minutes, when we're sitting over dinner. Two minutes, baby, I promise I'll be quick." He was already on the move. "You can't eat without gloves."
He punched in Doc's private number as he hurried down the hall. "She's carrying triplets," he blurted out the moment the man answered. "Siena. My leopard told me she's carrying triplets."
"Don't panic."
He was completely panicked. "Listen to me, Doc. I mean every fucking word I'm saying to you. I want children with her, but not if she's in danger. If this is going to be too hard on her body, if there's a chance she won't survive, she's not doing this." He couldn't actually say the words to get rid of them. That would kill him, but he wouldn't survive losing Siena, not even if the children survived.
"Women carry triplets. She'll have to most likely go on bed rest at some point because we won't want them born too early. Stop panicking, go back and tell her. She's healthy. She's happy. She's got an overprotective bastard looking out for her. She's going to be fine. I'll want to do an ultrasound, just to confirm and get ahead of any potential problems. Is she having a difficult time with morning sickness?"
"It isn't just in the morning. She's sick a lot, any time of the day."
"That's not unusual with triplets. Bring her in tomorrow. We'll have a look."
Elijah snapped his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. Keeping Siena safe was a full-time job. He found some soft driving gloves that were going to be too big, but it was all he had.
She was up, mixing the stir-fry, holding the spoon between her thumb and index finger cautiously. She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You talk to Doc?"
"Yeah, I talked to Doc." He was the one who needed to sit down. What if they were all girls? Fuck him. He was dead in the water if she was carrying three girls.
"I'm having three, right? Please don't say four."
He nodded his head. There was just a tiny bit of panic in her voice. "Baby, we'll do fine." He took the frying pan from her before she dropped it. "Go sit down, mi vida. I've got this. And put the gloves on." He looked at her over his shoulder as she sat back in her chair at the table. "You scared, Siena?"
"Not as much as I thought I'd be. I've got you. I figure that means we can get through having triplets." She was silent while he put the food on the table and seated himself across from her. "You know I don't know anything about children, right? I've never even held a baby. Or changed one."
He put his hand over her wrist. "We'll do fine. We've got quite a few months, and there have to be experts that we can bring here to give us a few lessons. Doc will know someone and so will Jake. We've got this, baby. Emma's got two kids already and another on the way."
Her eyes lit up. With that look. The one that said she loved him and he could move mountains and raise three babies when they didn't have a clue what they were doing. He'd find a way because she believed he would.
20
ELIJAH lay in bed, one hand tucked behind his head, watching Siena as she emerged from the bathroom. Steam followed her. Perfumed steam. She always smelled good. Her hair was in a messy knot, spilling down her back even though the knot was high. He knew he was going to pull out that elastic the moment he could get his fingers in her hair.
"Appreciate the sexy camisole and panties, baby," he said, "but lose them. And do it slow for me. I like when you unwrap yourself before you give me you."
Her green eyes jumped to his face. Burned there. She never denied him. He could wake her up a dozen times in the middle of the night and she would turn to him, her body soft and warm and always, always welcoming.
"I'd do anything for you, Siena," he said softly.
"Would you give up being head of the Lospostos crime family for me if I asked you to do it?" she asked softly. Not moving. Not coming to him.
Everything in him went still. Tension knotted his belly so tight he thought maybe she could see the knots. "If I said no, will you still get into this bed with me?" he countered, keeping his voice soft. Neutral.
Her eyes moved over his face. She was an open book. The woman could never hide anything from him. Yeah. She'd get in his bed. She'd come to him and give herself to him and she'd do it completely.
"You're mine, Elijah," she said, still not moving. "You were born to be mine. I know it every single time I look at you."
She slowly undid the laces of her camisole so that her breasts spilled free. Already he could see the changes in her body. Her full breasts were even lusher. Her tucked-in waist was still there, but there was a definite baby pooch. A beautiful one. Soft and inviting like the rest of her. Still looking at his face, she hooked her thumbs in her panties and pulled them down until they fell free. She still wore the gloves and somehow, that was sexy, seeing her in soft skin and a pair of his driving gloves. He felt like he'd been aching for her for hours. And he had.
"Then come here, baby."
"You didn't answer me."
"I'm going to answer you, but I want you close." He patted his chest. "Very close. Right here, mi vida. I want your eyes on mine while I talk to you about this."
Because he wanted to see her reaction. The real one. The one in her heart and soul. He'd see that in her eyes. His belly was back to knots. She'd said she'd stay with him even if he didn't give her what she asked for. He watched her intently as she crossed the room and slid into the bed on the opposite side.
Instantly he turned, caught her to him and pulled her close, rolled until she was on top of him, sprawled across his chest. He roughly pulled the tie from her hair, allowing all that thick silk to cascade down. He loved the feel of it sweeping his skin.
"Honey," she whispered.
"Straddle me," he said softly, his hands at her hips, guiding her lower, until she was positioned over his hard, straining cock. "I need to be inside of you when I give this to you, baby."
She moistened her lips, but she lifted her hips and let him guide her over his cock--just like he knew she would because she always gave him what he asked for. Always. She slid down, watching his face as she took him. Like every single time he entered her, it felt like the first time. Tight. Scorching hot. Her muscles reluctantly gave way for his invasion.
He watched her face, and just like always, she looked as if he were her miracle. As if, when his cock pushed into those tight, hot folds, so slick with her welcome for him, she believed he was the greatest thing on earth. He didn't want to ever lose that look on her face. When she was seated on him and he was buried as deep as possible, he reached up to cup her breasts.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he admitted. "And you have the most beautiful heart. All this time, since we've been together, you thought you dragged me into your grandfather's shit, but the truth is, mi amorcito, I've brought you into a very dangerous world and I can't let you go. I told myself a million times it was the right thing to do and if I was any kind of a man, I'd get you away from me, but I can't do it. I need you. Just for survival. Just to breathe."
He watched her face the entire time he spoke. Her green eyes stayed glued to his. Just like he asked. Always like he asked. She killed him with the way she loved him. Her expression didn't change in the least. She didn't look apprehensive. She looked as if she believed totally in her man. Her body moved. Slowly. Oh, so slowly, lifting slightly, small
"I want a clean life for you. For our children. Hell, baby, I want a clean life for me, although I have no idea how to live that way."
She leaned down and licked at his flat nipple. Sucked. Kissed her way up to his throat. "Honey, I love you. I didn't ask you to give up your life, I only asked you if you would."
"I wanted to do that, I even tried to do it. But this life, the one handed to me. It isn't easy to get out of no matter how hard you try. And then there's my leopard. Used to that shit. Hard to control. But still, I tried. Then when I realized it wasn't going to happen, not like I could live free and clean, before I met you, I made a decision. I didn't know it would ever be possible to find a woman like you, a woman who deserved so much better than I could give her, who would accept me as I am."
She pressed kisses to his jaw, slid her tongue up to his ear. "What decision?"
All the while her body rode his. Slow. Infinitely slow. Burning. Scorching hot. Gripping. Her sheath was so tight he felt like she was strangling his cock in the tightest fist possible. Milking him. The friction was exquisite. With the slow glide she was doing, his brain was beginning to fray around the edges. Still, that glide told him something important. She loved him. She belonged to him. She claimed all that was Elijah Lospostos, even his reputation.
"I made the decision, knowing I couldn't take all of them that route, to try to legitimize as much of my businesses as I could. I was doing that when I met Drake Donovan. Drake was running a crew of leopards in Borneo. They went after kidnapped victims and returned them. I went to Borneo to check on my sister, Rachel. I was at war with my uncle's soldiers to take over the family business and I was worried Rachel might be caught in the middle. There were rumors I put out a hit on her. I was really worried that there was a hit out on her and I wanted her protected."
Keeping her eyes on his, Siena arched her back, reaching behind her with her hands to run them over his thighs. The muscles there jumped in response. The angle allowed even greater friction. His breath caught in his throat. He especially loved the way her position allowed her breasts to jut out invitingly, swaying with every movement she made.