Leopard's Run

by Christine Feehan

  Ashe was silent, turning over and over what he’d said. She tried to remember her mother picking her up. Had she? It had always been her father’s voice she’d heard telling her to push herself harder. That she needed to learn to swim faster. To run farther. To shoot with expert precision. He used to yell at her that there was no reason to waste a bullet. It had to hit precisely where she aimed it.

  Her mother had been there with them. Her father never went anywhere without her mother close to him. What had her mother been doing while father and daughter trained? Ashe set the table as she thought about it. Yes, she’d been there, wringing her hands and occasionally objecting that her father was being too harsh with her. He hadn’t stopped or listened to her. In fact, now that she replayed those scenes in her head, she saw her father send her mother a quick, quelling scowl.

  “She catered to him. She did everything he told her to do,” she mused aloud.

  “Probably. She was a terrified child when he saved her life. They came to a foreign land. It was his money they lived on. She might have loved him, but she didn’t feel equal with him. How could she? She adored him. Doted on him. Wanted to please him.”

  Her mother had been like that with her father to the point that Ashe had felt pushed aside. She hated feeling as if she was being a huge baby when she’d had a really good childhood and Timur’s childhood had been pure hell. She poured water into tall glasses and then sank down into her favorite chair at the small table where the built-in alcove was. The little breakfast nook was round, the small circular outcropping coming out of the kitchen, creating a space that was intimate. She liked it but had added heavy drapes. She liked looking outside during the day, but in the evening, she felt vulnerable with the lights on.

  “I love this house,” she murmured as he put the bowls of rice and stir-fry on the table.

  “I do too,” he said. “I’ve asked Evangeline if she’d sell it to me a couple of times. She’s thinking about it.”

  She glared at him. “Don’t you dare buy my house out from under me.”

  “You can’t have it both ways, malen’kiy smirch . You’re either running or you’re staying.”

  She shrugged and helped herself to the rice. “You’re always saying you’re going to catch up with me, so either way, I need my house.” She scooped a healthy portion of the stir-fry onto the rice. It smelled wonderful. He’d cooked the night before. If that food was anything to go by, he was an awesome chef, and she didn’t plan to waste her opportunity to eat something good.

  She felt his eyes on her, but she refused to look up. Truthfully, she had no idea what she was going to do with Timur. “I’m not like my mother, you know. Even if I did stay, I wouldn’t dote on you. Or adore you.” She couldn’t help sneaking a peek at him to see how he took that declaration.

  “Yes, you would. You’d also argue with me about anything and everything. That will more than balance out your adoration of me.”

  She gave an inelegant snort of derision. “You wish.”

  “I don’t wish for the crap you’re going to give me,” he denied, pushing the basket of bread toward her. “But the rest of it, yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “This is too fast. Don’t ask me to make decisions when I know I’ve got the ones who murdered my parents on my trail. I would have brought them straight to Fyodor in the hopes that he would have gotten rid of them for me.”

  “How well did you actually know Evangeline before coming here?”

  She ducked her head, cursing under her breath. He had a right to know. She’d brought trouble with her. “We met at a little café up in the mountains where I worked as a barista. She was camping for a while in the hills there and she was alone. We naturally gravitated toward each other. Our first encounter was actually at a creek where she was washing up. We got talking and I found out she needed a job. They needed help at the café, so I told her to apply and I’d put in a good word for her.”

  She glanced up to find his gaze fixed on her face. The cold one. Ice-blue. Glaciers of blue. A little shiver went down her spine. He was wholly focused on her, but this time, it wasn’t sexual, or at all friendly. This time, he wasn’t asking because he was interested so much as because he was looking out for his sister-in-law.

  Ashe couldn’t help the way her heart beat faster. Danger. Why did she find herself running right toward it all the time? What was it about adrenaline that made her such an addict? She wanted to feel this way, exhilarated, alive and not quite safe. It was playing with fire, and she knew better.

  “Ashe,” he prompted.

  She deliberately shrugged and forked more stir-fry into her mouth. “This is good. You’re a really good cook, and I could get used to coming home from work and watching you put together meals. There’s something magical and mesmerizing, watching you take a few ingredients and put them together to make something to eat this good.” She flashed a small smile at him. Coaxing that look off his face. “Maybe I’ll even learn to do the chopping for you.”

  She nearly got a smile from him, but the ice didn’t melt from his eyes. She knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, and she was glad. She didn’t want easy. She wouldn’t respect easy. Timur wasn’t a man she could push around. She should have known it because Fyodor was a force to be reckoned with and Timur didn’t allow his brother to push him around.

  “You can drop the sweet act, baby. You were talking about your relationship with Evangeline. I need to know everything.”

  Ashe gave an exaggerated sigh, but she was secretly happy he was pushing her to answer. “There isn’t much to tell. We were both alone and we gravitated toward each other. She was from Louisiana, and I was from the Appalachian Mountains. We spent time together, but I was careful not to tell her my secrets, and she didn’t tell me hers. We were both aware we weren’t sharing important things, but it didn’t matter. We both understood we couldn’t.”

  She shrugged again and took another bite. The meal really was delicious. She kept her eyes on his face, which was laughable, because he gave nothing away. It was as if he wore a mask and whatever went on behind it wasn’t for the world—or her—to see. And she wanted to. She wanted to be that woman, the one who knew him inside and out. He was offering that to her, or at least he was offering her …What? What was it really? Sex? The sex was better than good, but what else did he offer?

  “Don’t,” he ordered softly.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t what? Worry that if I stayed I’d never have any more of you than I do right this minute? Of course, I’m going to worry about that. We barely know each other. You’ve expressed fear that you’re a psychopath. You’ve threatened to find me if I run. These are not things conducive to making me want to stay with you.”

  “I was hoping the food would help.”

  For a moment they stared at each other, and then Timur laughed. The sound was unexpected, and it struck at her, piercing her heart as surely as if he’d thrown a spear. His face lit up and the blue flames in his eyes danced. The sight took her breath away. She could listen to that sound for the rest of her life. She knew it was hers. His laughter was for her. She held that to her. She’d dreamt of having a man of her own and he was always dangerous and brooding. He presented a mask of indifference to the rest of the world, but for her—and their future children—he would be different. He would share fun and laughter. Just like this moment.

  “The food helps,” she admitted when his smile had faded.

  “Tell me more about Evangeline and you.”

  “There isn’t much more to tell. She left after a few weeks. I could tell she was restless and wanted to go back to wherever it was that made her feel safe. I know that feeling. I sometimes can’t breathe because I feel so exposed.” She looked around the room at the heavy drapes she’d added to the house.

  “No one is going to get to you. I’m with you now, Ashe, and that means they’ll have to walk through me to get to you. That won’t be so easy.”

  “Why? You know, just by bei
ng here, I’m a threat to Evangeline and your brother.”

  “Because you’re mine.”

  He said it so simply. So positively, as if he didn’t have a doubt in the world. She shook her head. “Honey, sex doesn’t solve every problem, and we’d have major ones.”

  His eyebrows shot up and his fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Why do you think that?”

  She laughed. “Because you’re you and you think an order is meant to be obeyed. And I’m me. I think an order should be ignored.”

  “You’ll get over that.”

  The way he said it, so simply, so smugly and complacently, as if there was no other conclusion, made her want to laugh again with sheer happiness. He was made for her. Custom-made. But what was the old saying? Be careful what you wish for. Still, she loved that he was so in control. That he had so much confidence in himself and his ability to command her.

  “Maybe, if you’re worth it, Timur, but most men aren’t.”

  “I was born to be with you, Ashe. I have no doubts at all about that. You’re the one who needs to catch up. Try the garlic bread and tell me how you came to be here.”

  She had been trying to resist the garlic bread, although it smelled wonderful and more, it looked fabulous, calling to her repeatedly. She had curves. Lots of them, and she knew bread was one of her weaknesses. She gave in and took a warm piece from the basket.

  “Evangeline was my savior. I read about her marrying Fyodor. Of course, at the time, the papers used the name he was living under, but it didn’t matter. He was a member of the mafia. At least the speculation was there. I was looking for a dangerous man and that was what I needed. I knew whoever was after my parents had found me and I led them right here, hoping Evangeline’s husband was fierce enough to protect her and kill them. I wanted them dead.”

  She looked him in the eye when she declared it. She meant every word and if that meant she was a bad person and was going straight to hell, then so be it. She was ready to accept those consequences. She was even willing to accept that Timur might be playing her in order to better find out why she was there and that meant he might pull out his gun and shoot her. He hadn’t seen the carnage left behind, the bodies of the only two people she loved in the world, so ravaged and mangled that she had barely been able to identify them. “I want them dead,” she repeated.

  “They’ll die,” he said.

  She heard the promise in his voice and let out her breath. He was strong enough. He was that man—the one she’d dreamt of. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Then give me your word that you’ll stay so I’m not worried that you’re going to take off while I’m looking the other way.”

  She was inexplicably proud of him for taking advantage, so much so that she couldn’t stop the grin. “Nice. Take advantage.”

  “Always.”

  “I’m going to remember that.”

  He shrugged and took a drink of water, washing the sourdough bread down. “As long as you’re staying, I’m okay with that. Tell me more about Evangeline and you.”

  “Honestly, Timur, there isn’t that much to tell. I went to the bakery and she recognized me right away. I told her I was in trouble, and I was very honest with her, that someone had killed my parents and they were after me. I needed work and a place to stay. She gave me both. All the utilities here at this house are in her name. Evangeline is the most generous person I’ve ever met. She didn’t even hesitate. Not for a moment.”

  Ashe flicked him a quick look from under her lashes. “She did warn me about you.”

  Timur looked a little smug over that. “She warned you about me, not Fyodor?”

  Ashe nodded almost reluctantly.

  Timur looked extremely superior and arrogant over that. “Because that little minx has him wrapped around her finger. He does everything she asks. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells him which suit to wear in the morning.”

  “I think that’s sweet,” Ashe said, just to watch his eyes change color.

  “Don’t think you’re going to get to do the same, malen’kiy smirch , because I can assure you, it won’t happen.”

  She was up for the challenge. “I am not a little tornado,” she denied.

  “That’s exactly what you are. You wreak havoc wherever you go.”

  She laughed because it was a fair assessment of her. “I suppose you’re right.” There was no sense in denying it. “My father used to say that all the time. He said my grandfather would have liked me.”

  “The grandfather who bought your mother from a human trafficker and planned to pass her around to his friends when his son had no more use for her? That grandfather?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t say he thought I would like or forgive his father, but he talked of him often and I know he missed him.”

  “Did he ever speak of his mother?”

  She shook her head. “Not once. I never once heard her mentioned and when I asked about her, he said she’d died long before he could remember her.”

  “It is possible the lairs there were also extremely violent, as the ones in my homeland,” Timur said, “but from what you tell me, your father wasn’t a violent man. I believe, no matter what, that your mother was his true mate. He stumbled across her by accident. He would never be violent toward her. Others? Who knows?”

  She put down her fork and rubbed her thighs with her palms, back and forth, a gesture that often soothed her. Lately that horrible itch that engulfed her body would come at unexpected times and she rubbed her skin in the hopes of soothing it. Now, she knew that was her leopard pushing close to the surface, rising again and again before the emergence.

  “I never saw my father violent, but he did tell my mother about some of the men in his lair. The ones who didn’t have a wife, and some who did, waited for new girls to be bought and passed around. The things my mother told me sickened me. She didn’t want me to ever go looking for my grandfather, no matter how much my father hero-worshiped him.”

  Timur’s eyes went cold again. The blue flames flickered beneath the glacier, giving the blue a deeper color. His eyes fascinated her. Sometimes she thought she was catching glimpses of his soul. Ice or fire. Those were her choices and she wanted them both.

  “Did your father encourage you to seek out your grandfather?”

  She hesitated. She always protected her parents, preserving their memories and talking about everything good. She felt she’d already put her mother in a bad light, which was wrong. Her mother had been loving, just a little hesitant and distant, but always loving and kind. There had been good times with her, where they’d both laughed and celebrated being feminine.

  Her relationship with her father had been more complicated. He’d been a strict taskmaster. He’d forced her to run every day, no matter how bad she’d felt. He’d insisted she learn to handle weapons, and he’d been harsh with her. He’d used a rubber knife and raised welts all over her body when he’d slashed or struck her with it, to show her that she would have been cut that many times before she’d disarmed him. He’d been the one to teach her to swim and dive. To do everything.

  He’d been fun as well. He’d made her laugh and sometimes, he made her feel like a princess with her knight guarding her castle. She’d loved him for those times. He’d been a perfect mix of love and danger. Of harshness for necessity, tempered with love. She understood that he’d had to be harsh in order to ensure her safety—to make certain his wild child obeyed him.

  “It was the only time I ever heard them fight. My mother rarely contradicted my father, in fact I would say never. She would beg him to go easier on me, but she didn’t tell him to stop and when he wasn’t easier, she didn’t argue her point. She went along with everything he said. He was talking about his father and how he was wealthy, and he would one day love to see his grandchild. He told me I would be welcome in my grandfather’s lair, that he was still alive and wanted to get to know me.”

  “Your mother wasn’t happy about that.”

  Ashe
shook her head. “Absolutely not. She told me under no circumstances should I go there and that I should forget all about him.”

  “My father was furious with her and told her I would be welcome. She reminded him that his father bought girls—young girls—and used them before returning them to the lairs to die.” She looked down at her hands, ashamed of her father and horrified by his furious outburst at her mother. “My father said that his father only bought castaways, little whores, not good women.”

  There was silence, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at his face. “My mother struck him. Hard. Right in the face and she left. I just stood there, and I remember crying. Crying for her. Crying for knowing my father had called her a whore. Later she told me that females in her lair were treated as less than human, with no rights. Some were killed at birth because the fathers wanted no part of them. She had been sold to my grandfather, but she’d done nothing wrong and she said even if she had, it was no excuse for any man to treat a woman that way.”

  “She wanted you to know that.”

  Ashe nodded, grateful he could understand. “My father was horrified the moment the words came out of his mouth, I could see that, but it was too late. He’d said them. He followed after her and they were gone for days. When they came back, he stuck close to her and no one smiled much. I left a couple of weeks later when I turned eighteen.”

  “I think your mother was right. Staying away from your grandfather sounds like a good plan. Evangeline had a grandfather who many classified as a monster, but then, they’d never met my father or his brothers.” He gestured toward her with his fork. “Finish your food, baby.”

  “I’ve been eating,” she pointed out. “Your plate is nearly full.”

  “Because I took a second helping. In any case, I have plans for you.”

  His voice made her heart jump, and a delicious curl of heat danced down her spine. Deep inside, her sex clenched and she felt a rush of delight go through her veins.

  “Plans?” She tilted her head and looked at him, speculation and interest in her gaze.