The Man Within

by Lora Leigh

  * * * * *

  It was hell. Roni forced back her screams as everything inside her protested the doctor’s touch, his tests, his soothing voice. She knew she was leaving deep marks in Taber’s back from the grip her fingers had on him, but couldn’t seem to care. It was that or scream. That, or fight to be free. She breathed in hard and deep. She could do this. She wasn’t a quitter. She could fight. She had forgotten that in the past year since Taber’s desertion. She knew how to hold herself together when the fear was like a beast clawing at her stomach.

  One second at a time. One minute at a time. One hour at a time. It had saved her before. She could think later, when the pain had eased, when the terror had lessened and her mind had absorbed the rushing change that had fallen into her life. Then she could find safe ground. Then she would think.

  “You leave me again and I’ll kill you!” She jerked violently as the doctor used his demon’s tools to examine her. “I swear to God, Taber. I may not be woman enough for you, but if you leave me after this, I’ll make you pay. I’ll cut your black heart from your chest myself and then I’ll carve your cock into so many tiny pieces you’ll never find them all.”

  And she would, she promised herself as she throttled the scream wanting to break free from her throat.

  She could feel the tension in Taber as well, the furious growls coming from his chest, his protective, fierce hold on her body. He was hers for now. She would deal with the future when she had to.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I will assume you’re pregnant.” Roni fought to keep her voice calm as she came to a stop at the small glass table Merinus sat next to on the back deck of the house. “What’s next? What do I have to look forward to?”

  She had slipped from the bedroom after Taber left, after another insane, lust-filled hour in his bed. She had showered, changed into her borrowed jeans and another of Taber’s shirts and come in search of the only other known Feline mate.

  The other woman was watching the construction of a high fence an acre from the sheltered porch, her expression pensive. The men worked on the twelve-foot high barricade being stretched from post to post with an almost fanatical vigor, as though nothing were more important than getting the steel-linked barrier in place.

  “You know,” Merinus said softly, sighing with aching regret, “this estate was so beautiful when we first saw it. Stately, graceful, despite the horrible experiments that were practiced in the buildings that once stood where those men are working. Everything was peaceful, as though its very elegance distanced it from the horror those who owned it practiced.”

  Merinus tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the glass top restlessly. “Now look at it. Fences everywhere. Wild animals turned loose for protection, and nightly attempts to break the security Callan is trying to enforce. The bastards will never stop until they’re put out of their insane misery, like rabid dogs.”

  With each word, anger pulsed and throbbed in the other woman’s voice as she turned her head, her gaze meeting Roni’s fiercely. “Yes, I’m pregnant, by a man I would have gladly given my life to save, Roni. A man who has faced more horror than you can ever imagine in your life. Daily, he faces his worse nightmare. Nightly, he awakens in a sweat after having dreamed the child and I were taken. Who is suffering more? Me, who he protects? Or Callan, who knows the consequences should it happen?” Awareness pulsed like a hidden ache in Merinus’ voice. Her love for Callan throbbed in every syllable.

  Her fear for him and her unborn child was like a living fire in her eyes.

  “It would seem to me both of you are suffering. You don’t sound unaware of the dangers or the consequences, Merinus.” Roni tilted her head to the side as the brown eyes watching her warmed only marginally.

  “No, I’m not, but you are.” She waved her hand to the vacant seat across from her. “Share some coffee with me. Decaf, unfortunately.” Her lips twisted with a hint of self-mockery. “I so miss the caffeine.” The last words were drawn out, dripping with an almost palatable thirst for something that didn’t even have a taste.

  “Decaf doesn’t stress you.” Roni shrugged as she took her seat. “And whatever the hell those men do to your body, the caffeine only makes it worse. I found that out after Taber decided to do the marking thing on me.”

  “The marking thing?” Merinus laughed in delight, a bit of the strain easing from her face. “That’s as good a word for it as anything. But damn if it can’t be fun.”

  Roni glimpsed the remembered fire in Merinus’ gaze. Her eyes were soft with the memories, her lips curved as though they brought her comfort.

  “You don’t…burn anymore?” Roni asked her hesitantly, wondering if she would ever sit outside Taber’s presence again and not ache for him.

  “Oh, I burn.” Merinus sat back in her chair, her gaze flickering to the men working once again. “But it’s natural now, Roni. I wanted Callan when he was no more than a picture, a story, a man who had suffered. I wanted him like nothing I had known before in my life. A compulsion. A need I wasn’t about to deny. The hormone only kept me from denying it. When I conceived, it was done after I had admitted and realized how much we were a part of each other. It wasn’t something I felt was forced on me.” Roni looked away. Hadn’t she wanted Taber just as well? From the time she had been eleven to the minute her soul had shattered with that letter he sent her, hadn’t she dreamed, longed, loved?

  “I was at Dayan’s funeral,” she whispered, remembering how desperately she wanted to go to Taber at the time, to ease the grief that lined his face. “It was after Taber marked me. But I remember how desperately I hurt for him, not sexually, but because I could see his pain.”

  “Dayan’s death changed them all,” Merinus told her quietly. “You don’t know what happened to Dayan, do you?”

  Roni nodded hesitantly. “He was killed saving you…”

  “Oh no.” Merinus shook her head, her tone harsh. “That was what we told the media, Roni. Dayan died by Callan’s hand when he tried to kill me. He killed Callan’s mother, Maria, years ago because she had nearly talked Callan into going to the press, and he was determined to kill me for the same reason.” Roni didn’t disbelieve her, and wasn’t entirely shocked. Dayan hadn’t been completely sane. The day he had brought her Taber’s letter, he had pinned her against the wall of the bedroom over the garage, his breath rasping, his eyes burning with lust as he offered to train her to satisfy Taber.

  “When he brought me Taber’s note, letting me know Taber didn’t want me, he tried to attack me,” Roni whispered. “It felt like knives going into my skin when he held me. I had never hurt so bad.”

  “Taber’s note?” Merinus leaned forward, shaking her head in confusion. “I knew you two had a history, but I was unaware of what it was.”

  Roni pressed her lips tightly together before licking them nervously. She had never told another living soul what had happened. Briefly, bitterly, she told Merinus the whole story, including Dayan’s part in it.

  It was humiliating, remembering how much she had depended on Taber over the years, knowing he would save her, take care of her, rather than forcing her to take care of it on her own. She had learned, though, that she could care for herself. She had lived and worked, and had slowly been making a life for herself. At the moment, that small salve to her ego was in much demand.

  “I hadn’t seen Taber since,” she finished, breathing in deeply. “Not until he jumped out of that damned helicopter and made the situation that much worse. Now if I’m going to get through this, I at least need to understand what the hell is going on, Merinus. I’m terrified because my body is tying me to a man who can destroy me. Who has destroyed me.”

  “Whew.” Merinus breathed roughly as she pushed her fingers wearily through her hair.

  “What are you going to do?” Merinus asked her. “This doesn’t sound like Taber, Roni. I know him. He would have never touched you—period—if he hadn’t been dying for you. But his need to protect you would have gone deeper
than the hunger driving him. Which could have made him react more hurtfully.”

  “That excuse doesn’t help much.” Roni shook her head, knowing that Taber would have indeed been capable of trying desperately to protect her.

  He had shown it in the doctor’s lab. His voice had been hoarse, his body so tight, so filled with fury on her behalf that he had trembled with her. The tone had been a rumbled, primal sound, the words barely recognizable as he promised her everything he could think of in return for what was being done to her.

  “I need to trust in him, Merinus,” she whispered painfully. “I need more than some damned addiction to his sperm or his kiss. I need his love…”

  Merinus leaned slowly back in her seat. “Surely he’s told you.” She shook her head. “Roni, he has to love you, otherwise that hormone would not have kicked in as it had.” Roni gave her a mocking, half-angry look. “Would I be worried if he had told me he loved me?” The other woman’s eyes narrowed. “Assholes. I swear to God if all men aren’t the most hardheaded, stubborn, exceptionally dense assholes. I swear they all need to be…” She jerked as wood exploded mere inches from the side of her face, catching her cheek and temple as it sprayed violently around them.

  “Gunfire!” Roni screamed out as she came to her feet, throwing the table out of the way and pushing Merinus to the floor of the porch as fire seared her shoulder. “Taber!” She was screaming his name as hard pings began to vibrate around the porch. “Gunfire!”

  Men were screaming now, a roar of a lion echoed through her head. Lion? Good God, was it one of the Feline Breeds or a real lion? It sure sounded real.

  Cement splattered inches from her, a hole tearing into the floor as she pushed Merinus deeper into the shadows of the porch and the dubious protection of a woodpile that had been stacked to the side. There wasn’t a chance in hell of making it to the door, and from the angle of the gunfire even less a chance of making it around the side of the house.

  “Taber!” Her screams joined the frantic cries from the yard.

  “We have one down! One down!”

  Roni turned back to look into the yard, watching the workers scatter, one of them hauling a wounded man on his back as they rushed for shelter. There was very little.

  Gunfire rattled off then. The rat-a-tat-tat of automatic weapons, the single sharp bursts of revolvers.

  And still, wood and cement flew around them as she sheltered Merinus’ unconscious body.

  She could smell her own blood, feel the tearing pain in her shoulder from a bullet, the crawling of her flesh as she lay over Merinus, fighting to keep the deadly little missiles from tearing into Merinus’ body, harming her or the child she had spoken of so tenderly.

  Men were everywhere, but none close enough, or in position to reach them and drag the other woman to safety. Roni heaved a sobbing breath, screaming out Taber’s name again as another volley of gunfire came much too close for comfort. She felt the wood tearing loose from the side of the porch just above her head, raining into her hair as she hunched protectively over the other woman.

  “Roni!” Nothing had sounded sweeter than Taber’s voice at the moment.

  She lifted her head, watching in amazement as he came sailing over the low rock wall that separated the grounds from the outer working area. In his hands he carried a lethal, powerful M-16, spraying a round of gunfire over the heads of the fleeing workmen into the area the enemy fire was coming from.

  At the same time, the terrible roar she had heard earlier sounded again. Behind Taber, Callan cleared the fence as well, but he came unarmed, his expression savage, rage echoing through the animalistic roar as he caught sight of his fallen wife.

  Simultaneously the back porch became a haven rather than a trap. Feline Breeds, male and female, placed themselves between the porch and danger, guns blasting as Taber and Callan rushed for them.

  Taber snatched Roni from her position in a surge of strength that amazed her, keeping her off her feet as he threw them both into the open doorway of the kitchen. Callan was no more than a half second behind him.

  “Doc!” Callan’s enraged, grief-stricken scream echoed around the house as he seemed to fly by them, bearing his unconscious wife in his arms.

  “Are you hurt?” Taber rushed behind him, half-carrying Roni as he forced her farther into the house.

  “No…”

  “Fuck, you’re lying to me!” He must have seen the blood. “Come on. Downstairs. You’ll be safe there.” Safe. Her head was swimming, her shoulder was throbbing like hell and all she wanted to do was have him throw her to the floor now and fuck her until she screamed. She moaned in defeat. At this rate, she would be pregnant before three days were up. No more heat, no more bond, and Taber would be gone again. Just as before.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Well, it was official. Morphine didn’t ease the mating heat, either. But at least the symptoms were a shade more bearable. The good doctor was able to check her shoulder and dress the flesh wound quickly as they all kept a careful eye on Merinus.

  The other woman had finally awakened, none the worse for wear. The force of the wood that had hit her temple had merely rendered her unconscious for a while. There was minor bleeding but no complications that the doctor could see.

  Callan wasn’t listening, though. He sat beside the small hospital gurney, his body hunched over the bed, arms wrapped around his wife as he held onto her protectively. His large hands ran over her tangled hair, her back, the slight mound of her abdomen where, the doctor assured them, the babe rested safe and sound.

  His voice was broken, hoarse with emotion as Merinus tried to soothe the fury trembling through his body. Twice she had been forced to whimper, a more than obvious fake sound of pain, to keep him from rushing back outside when news came that the assassins were contained. Two were dead; another was alive but wounded. Doc Martin had not yet moved to treat the mercenary locked in one of the empty supply sheds.

  “Matter of priorities,” he had said calmly when she asked him about the doctor’s oath he had taken.

  “Besides, if that one dies, there’ll be more to take his place.” There was a hatred so unforgiving within the older man that Roni shivered at the force of it.

  Taber had said very little. He had held her as her shoulder was bandaged and still hadn’t moved but inches from her side as she lay on her stomach, fighting exhaustion and arousal. He smelled too damned good and she was so tired.

  “Take your wife to her bed, Callan,” Doc finally said wearily as Callan’s head rose, his body still trembling in reaction. “She needs to rest. And you need to assure yourself all is fine. The danger is over for now. Same for you, Taber.” He turned back to Roni. “Take her upstairs and care for her. Tomorrow is time enough to worry of other things.”

  Martin’s shoulders were slumped, his voice tired and so filled with sadness Roni wanted to weep for him. As he moved away from the bed, Callan rose from the chair he had pulled to Merinus’ bed and approached Roni slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she knew this was a man she never wanted to cross.

  The golden-brown orbs were almost a full amber, glittering with an animal savagery that she knew wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

  “I know I can’t touch you,” he sighed as he approached her, going to one knee in front of her and looking up at her. “I know what you did, covering her body with your own. My men were screaming the information at me as I ran for that damned porch. If I could hug you, I would. If I had riches, I would bestow them upon you. If I had anything to show you the gift you gave me in saving her life, then it would be yours.”

  His voice was soft, throbbing with all the pent-up emotion that he was fighting.

  “Morphine’s a great little drug,” she whispered conspiratorially, lying through her teeth. “I didn’t even feel a twinge when the doc dressed the wound. You can hug me if you need to.” A small smile tilted his lips, involuntary and chastising. “You are still the little imp you always were,” he told her gently, shaking his finge
r at her. “I know better. I could smell your pain as the doctor worked on you, and it flayed my soul to know that it had happened. She would have been defenseless…” He swallowed tightly.

  “She’s fine.” Roni knew she was feeling a little giddy from the drugs when she gave Callan a mock frown. “But I want a gun now. I know how to use it.”

  “It’s yours.” He nodded firmly, not even bothering to glance at Taber to be certain, as she had expected.

  “Side arm or rifle?”

  She felt a thrill of satisfaction. “Rifle. Like Taber’s.” Taber groaned behind her.

  “Lessons,” Callan muttered, shaking his head at her. “Let Taber teach you the use of it and it’s yours. If you like, you can pick your own.”

  He rose to his feet then, a small smile lighting his eyes. “Just don’t shoot Taber, huh? He has his good points.”

  “I’m sure he does,” she drawled. “I just haven’t found them yet. I promise to look harder before making a firm decision to take his head off, though.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Taber retorted sarcastically to Callan. “Appreciate the help and all.” Callan winced. “Yeah. Welcome ole son.” He smothered his laughter as he looked over her head at Taber. “I have confidence in you, though. I’m sure you can convince her to let you live, at least for a while yet.”

  Taber snorted, but by then Roni was bored with their male amusement.

  “I need a bath.” She eased herself from the bed, testing the strength of her legs, which really wasn’t so good at the moment. “And food. I need food. Pizza is definitely called for in this situation.” Taber scooped her up in his arms, his grip fierce as he strode quickly from the room.

  “I can walk,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the brief respite from her worries that the drugs had provided.

  “Of course you can.” He glanced down at her, his lips much too distracting as they curved up into a smile. “But I like carrying you.”

  He had always carried her, every chance he had, she remembered. He had carried her when he first found her, huddled in the night, terrified of the sounds of darkness and the men who had run her from her home. Every chance after that, he had carried her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

  “Do you have any idea how good you feel in my arms?” he asked her as he strode quickly up the stairs into the suite he claimed as his own.

  He kicked the door closed behind him, but didn’t make it to the bedroom. He collapsed on the couch, his arms still firm and hard around her as he lowered his head, his lips covering hers demandingly.

  Roni wasn’t willing to just be a participant this time. She had faced death earlier. Had faced the knowledge that at any moment, she or Taber could cease to exist. She wasn’t willing to fight the needs clamoring in her body any longer. Or those in her heart.

  She rose in his arms, ignoring his little growl of warning until she was straddling him, staring into his surprised gaze.

  “Mine!” Her whisper, despite its softness, resonated with the sense of possessiveness and power filling her now.

  His eyes flared. The jade-green color darkening, the pupils expanding as her fingers went to the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. The cotton, though she was sure it was soft enough, rasped her palms as she smoothed it across his shoulders then down to the first button. It slipped free easily.

  “Roni.” He swallowed tightly, emotion echoing thick and intense through his hoarse voice.

  “You marked me,” she told him softly, determined. “But you didn’t mark me the day you placed your mouth on my neck, Taber. You marked me when I was eleven years old and you carried me to safety.

  When I was sixteen and you arranged my first birthday party. When you placed that little, all too innocent kiss against my lips. You marked me a little more every time I saw you, every time you touched me.

  Now, I’m going to mark you.”

  She smoothed his shirt back from his chest, over his broad shoulders, and laid her mouth at the point where his shoulder and neck met. There, in the thick, pulsing muscle, she bit him. Not enough to draw blood, just enough that his body tightened, his hips arching and grinding his cock into the cradle of her thighs as his hands gripped her hips with bruising strength.

  She bit down, laved the area she held in her grip with her tongue, suckled it deeply, repeated the erotic, sexually charged caress he had given her so many months ago. The effect on him was no different than it had been for her, it seemed.

  He tore the shirt from her back as her attention stayed on the tight flesh she caressed with a force that would vary between pain and pleasure. He shredded the cloth then pulled it from her body before his fingers moved to her snug jeans.

  “Take them off.” His voice was feral, rumbling, as he pushed the material over her hips, midway over the curve of her buttocks.

  Roni murmured a soft sound of pleasure as his hands pushed beneath the jeans, cupping her rounded flesh, his fingers flexing against the firm muscle as he moved her roughly against his jeans-covered cock.

  She wasn’t in a hurry, and she had no intention of allowing him to rush her. She needed to touch him, to taste him, to know he was safe and in her arms and that this wasn’t just another desperate dream.

  “You’re killing me.” He was panting for breath now, his head tilted to the side, giving her complete access to the strong line of his throat.

  Roni realized she had never felt as confident or strong, sexually, as she did at that moment. He was helpless beneath her touch. Rough groans vibrated from his throat, every muscle tense, his erection grinding desperately against the cloth that shielded her hot, damp pussy.

  Her nails raked over his chest, the corded planes of his abdomen, then back to his tight, hard male nipples. When she was satisfied she had left at least a small mark on his tough skin, she released the flesh she held, then ran her tongue slowly along his neck. She nipped him lightly under the hard line of his jaw, then licked her way down his throat, feeling the flexing of his skin as he swallowed tightly.

  “I love your taste.” She moved back from the erotic, mind-destroying movements of his cock pressing into her sex. “So wild and untamed. Can I tame you, Taber?” A short, sharp laugh, devoid of humor, was an exclamation of primal lust as he fought to answer her.

  “You already have. Years ago.”

  “Mmm. My own wildcat. Can I stroke you? Or will you devour me before I can show you all the ways I’ve dreamed of pleasing you?”

  His eyes were heavy-lidded, glowing with such a staggering heat it warmed every corner of her soul. For now, this small place in time, nothing or no one existed in Taber’s world but her. She nearly climaxed from the heady knowledge that she held such power over him.

  “Show me,” he whispered, though his voice was as tormented as any man’s could be.

  She gave him a slow, deliberately provocative smile as she gazed at him from beneath lowered lids.

  Watching him carefully, challengingly, she rose slowly from his lap, ignoring the bestial sound of protest he made.

  “Stay there,” she told him softly as he moved to stand as well.

  Taber leaned back against the couch as she instructed, but she could see his muscles flexing, everything inside him demanding that he take her now.

  “Oh, so controlled,” she murmured, pleased. “I wonder how long you can hold onto all that power.”

  “Not long.” His fists were clenched at his sides as his gaze followed her hands.

  Roni slid the straps of her bra carefully over her shoulders, fighting back any fear and modesty that would have held her back from the enjoyment of this moment. He had seen her naked more than once, and evidently the sight didn’t displease him.

  He licked his lips, the movement slow, hungry, as she reached back, unclipped the lacy fabric and drew it away from her swollen breasts.

  Her nipples were erect and hard, pleading for his touch. Roni touched them instead. Watching him, she gripped them between her thumbs and
forefingers, tugging at them, massaging them as she watched his gaze darken further, his expression becoming heavy with the intensity of his arousal.

  “I can do that.” He swallowed tightly.

  “I know you can,” she agreed, her breath catching as a bolt of sensation shot from her nipples to her cunt. “Take your jeans off, Taber. Let me see if I arouse you.” He began to rise. “No. Don’t stand up.

  Remove them while you watch me.”

  He hesitated, obviously fighting for breath, for control. Roni lowered her hands from her nipples, smoothing her palms down her stomach until they came to the loosened front of her jeans.

  Quickly, Taber loosened his own. She smiled back at him, loving the game they were playing, wondering who would lose control first. She pushed at the material, allowing them t