Her sobs were heart-wrenching, dragged from a woman with tremendous courage and control and all the more terrible because of it. Rio rested his head over hers as he rocked her, his mind racing, trying to figure out why her brother would want her dead after trading his honor to keep her alive.
"I couldn't believe what he'd done. It was too many deaths on my hands." She held them up. "I felt covered in blood. Everyone I touched. Everything Elijah had done was because of me. He was so angry. He shook me over and over and said he should have put the gun to my head."
So many emotions ate at him that Rio didn't know what he was feeling. Part of him wanted to weep for her. Part of him was so angry he wanted to hunt her brother and uncle down. "Rachael, sestrilla. It's good you came here, to me, to your home where you belong." He caught her wrists and brought the scars to his mouth. "Here, with me. Every morning the birds will sing to you. The rain has beautiful songs and it will play them for us. This is our world." He felt a damn fool for uttering the words to her, yet so humbled that she'd accepted his own violent past. That she could look on what he did and not judge him harshly after all she'd been through. He would have quoted her a poem had he known one, just to ease her suffering.
"Elijah will never stop looking for me." She caught his face in her hands. "You should have known him all those years ago. He struggled so hard to work behind Armando's back to get us free. It was such a terrible life, always poised on the brink of death. He walked that fine line every day. We whispered together, passed notes we burned so no one would know what we were planning. He stood between me and our uncle all the time."
"It must have been difficult."
"We had no life. We were still in school but we couldn't bring home friends. We couldn't have any friends. We couldn't trust anyone, only each other. There were no dates, no dances. We lived in constant fear. Sometimes, if Armando didn't think Elijah was taking care of business, he and his men would break into our rooms in the middle of the night. They'd drag me into Elijah's room and put a knife to my throat or a gun to my head. Elijah was so calm. He never wept. He never panicked. He looked at them and he looked at me and he would say to Armando, 'What do you want me to do?' That was all. And he did whatever it took to save my life."
"Why do you feel ashamed?"
"He sold drugs. I'm certain he killed people. He was so beautiful, so full of laughter. He never smiles. He has nothing in his life. All for me. All in payment for my life. He would have been better off if they had killed me too. He would have been free. He could have broken away. He has skills like a chameleon. They never would have found him if he was alone."
"He must have been extraordinary, even as a teenager. I would like to meet him. It may be that we can work something out."
"But don't you see why I don't want you near him? He's not my Elijah anymore. He's turned into someone I don't know. Someone dark and dangerous and twisted inside. I can't say he's evil. I know he was trying to get out from under the drug business and sell off the companies that weren't legitimate. He promised me he would. Both of our names are on those companies. We own everything together."
"So if you die, everything goes to him."
Rachael nodded. "He wouldn't kill me for the money, Rio, if that's what you're thinking. I know he wouldn't. I don't ever look at the books. I don't even own a car. I don't care about the money, and he knows I don't."
"Is it possible Elijah is the one putting out the reward money to keep you alive and your uncle is the one who has hired assassins to kill you? That would make more sense. You had a fight with Elijah and he said some harsh things to you, but why would your uncle suddenly want to keep you alive? You aren't worth anything to him if he can't hold you over Elijah's head."
She was silent for a long time, but he felt her relax a little. "I didn't think of that. I couldn't believe it when Elijah just shot Tony right in front of me. He was so angry. I'd never seen him like that before. He's always in control, always very cool under fire."
"So he wasn't acting in character?"
"He feels dangerous now. He really does. I can't describe it, but he never did to me before. We were so close, and then somehow he began to push me away. He didn't want to talk about the business. He wouldn't answer my questions about Armando. He insisted I stay home, indoors, away from the windows."
"Maybe he was afraid for your life."
She sighed and reached over to take the drink from the small table where she'd set it. The juice felt cool and refreshing on her sore throat. "We were always afraid for my life. We lived in fear, it was our everyday existence."
"You thought by telling me who you are, who your family is, that I'd not want to be with you? Rachael, how could you think that?" His hand cupped her face, his thumb sliding over her high cheekbone.
"If I had tried to go to the police..." She trailed off.
"Why didn't you?"
"Two reasons. Armando had police working for him and we didn't know who they were, and of course, Elijah was heavily involved in the business. That's how Armando thought to trap him. If he made Elijah dirty enough, he would never be able to get out and they would need one another. Armando was willing to kill his brother, but he genuinely wanted his brother's son. It made no sense to me. I've never understood it. I would never betray Elijah for any reason."
"And you think I wouldn't forgive you that? There's nothing to forgive, Rachael." Rio lifted his head from hers, drawing in his breath. "He knew. Your uncle knew about your mother being a shape-shifter, and he must have known about your brother."
"I don't know about my brother."
"You said they were close, Rachael. Antonio and Armando. If Antonio had discovered that his wife was a shifter and they moved the family from South America in order to protect them from the elders, then he may have confided in his brother. Why wouldn't he? Antonio would have told his twin brother why he had to move his family to Florida so quickly, especially if he needed help fast and if he was leaving the running of the plantations to Armando or hired help."
"I suppose so. But I don't know if my brother can shift shape. Why wouldn't he tell me? We talked about mom and dad a lot. Wouldn't that be a rather large piece of information to leave out?"
"Not if he was protecting you. You say your uncle took him out all the time alone. They spent a great deal of time in the Everglades. What were they doing there?"
She shrugged. "I don't honestly know. I was a little child. I thought they were fishing or scuba diving or watching alligators. He never came back upset."
"If you were a kid and you could run free in the Glades, shifting shape and becoming something as powerful as a leopard, wouldn't you do it? And if you did things for your uncle, such as pick up packages, wouldn't that be a small price to pay? Armando would have realized the potential of such a gift. He would have a trained assassin, as silent and deadly as they came and no one the wiser. We can swim great distances and get into places humans can't. Elijah would have welcomed the trips in the beginning. He would have felt the freedom of running and becoming something so powerful. Do you see that?"
Rachael thought of how it felt to be in the form of such a powerful creature. A teenager would have found the excitement of it a heady and addicting experience. Add in the thrill of secrecy and it would have been too much for a boy to pass up. "I remember him coming home and being so excited after his trips with Armando he could hardly contain himself. He'd lock his bedroom door and play wild music for hours."
"Your uncle was probably training him then, but Elijah didn't know what he was carrying, or even doing. It was all a game. He loved and trusted your uncle. Finding your parents murdered must have been a terrible shock and betrayal to him. He loved Armando and he had to have realized what his uncle was and what he'd been doing all that time. The guilt must have been unbearable."
That brought a fresh flood of tears. Rachael clung to him, weeping for her lost brother, for their childhood, for all the things they had done and couldn't change. Rio held her in his
arms, offering comfort and acceptance. He rocked her gently back and forth, crooning some nonsense, anything at all to console her. It had been years since she'd allowed herself the luxury of tears. She had worked so hard to be like her brother, not giving Armando the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
She rubbed Rio's strong jaw. "Thank you for not condemning us. We probably did everything wrong, made every mistake, but I was a child and he was thirteen. We had no one to go to, no one to tell. Of course Armando had custody of us, and from the moment we went to live with him, we had nothing but each other. I don't think I could bear it if you despised him."
"Rachael, love of my life, how could you think I, of all people, would presume to judge another? All one can do in this life is to try to do their best in any given circumstances."
She lifted her head and stared into his face, his eyes. "I don't deserve you, Rio."
He fought back the strange lump in his throat. His people wouldn't see him or speak with him, yet she thought she didn't deserve him. His hand went to the nape of her neck, held her still for his kiss. He put every bit of tenderness he could find in himself in that kiss, tasting her tears, her sorrow, tasting love.
"I think you're an amazing woman," he murmured when he lifted his head.
She managed to smile at him. "It's a darned good thing because it might be difficult to get rid of me." Rachael slowly uncurled her body. She had cried so much her eyes burned and her throat ached. She was determined to pull herself together before Rio grew impatient and tossed her over the railing. "You know those little leech things you love so much? They just sink their teeth in and hold on, well that's me with you."
He made a face at her, reluctantly allowing his arms to drop away as she stretched and stood up to limp across the room to open the door.
"Isn't it strange how the house can feel so small at times?"
He smiled at her, knowing she was trying to regain some semblance of control. "Why do you think I often leave the door open?" Her body was supple and strong with generous feminine curves, a body a man could lose himself in. He liked watching her move around his home. She touched a candle, her fingers gliding gracefully over it. She picked up his clothes and tossed them in the small box he never used for dirty clothes.
"I'm messy."
A ghost of a smile curved her mouth. "You think that's news to me?"
"I was hoping you hadn't noticed."
Her smile widened. "It's impossible not to notice. You like soaking dishes in the sink. It drives me crazy. What's the point of soaking them? Why don't you just do them? You've already gone to the trouble of scraping them and rinsing, you might as well get it over with."
"There's a perfectly logical explanation," he said. "To wash the dishes in hot water, I have to actually use the gas or the wood. It's more economical to wait and wash a bunch together. Hauling gas in is a pain. I use it sparingly."
She made a face at him. "I suppose I'll have to concede the point."
He stood up, filling the room immediately with his wide shoulders and powerful presence. "Do you want to move, Rachael?" He had spent years building his house and the underground storage hidden beneath it. The water system had been difficult to hide. He had everything he wanted in that house, but they had no amenities. If she wanted all the things necessary in modern living, he would have to build a house closer to the protection of the village where they could have a generator. So far from protection, the noise and smell of a generator was too dangerous, a complete giveaway to Tomas and anyone else chasing him.
"Move?" Rachael gripped the edge of the door and turned back to look at him with her enormous eyes. "Why would you want to leave this beautiful house? The carvings are extraordinary. I love this house. I don't think there's any reason to move."
"We don't have a decent cooler most of the time. Hauling ice is nearly impossible, unless I get it from the village, and I rarely shop there."
"Your system works quite well. I don't think we'll starve."
"You might not feel that way when the kids start coming."
Rachael stepped backwards out the door, laughing at him. "Kids? They're going to start coming our way, are they?"
He stalked her, following her onto the verandah and pinning her against the rail. "I think there's bound to be lots of kids," he murmured. His hands came up to cup the soft weight of her breasts. He rubbed his shadowed jaw over her sensitive skin, gently over her peaking nipples. "Marry me, Rachael. We can't use the ritual ceremony of our people, but Kim's father can marry us."
"It isn't necessary. I know we're married already."
"I know it isn't necessary, but I want to marry you. I want to feel my child growing inside of you someday. I want it all with you." He lowered his mouth to her breasts, suckling gently, so that she arched her back and thrust into him, holding his head while he feasted on her. The rain began a slow drizzle and the wind blew endlessly but up high, in their own world, it all seemed perfect.
She lifted her face to look up at the gently falling rain while fire burst through her veins and sizzled and danced over her skin. "How many children are a lot?" Her fingers tangled in his hair. "Are you thinking two, three? Give me a number." She tried to listen to the songs of the rain the way he'd instructed. It was such a medley of sounds, never the same, ever changing, all of it seeping into her veins like a drug. Like the fire he produced with the hot silk of his mouth with the heat of the forest pressing in on them.
Rio straightened, held her in his arms. Just held her to him. "We can have a houseful, Rachael. Little girls to look like you. With your laughter and your courage."
She wrapped her arms around him, sank deep into his hard frame. "And with all those little children running around, how are we going to manage times like these?"
Living with Rio was a sensual adventure. Her body always seemed ripe and ready, never sated for long no matter how often he touched her. She wanted more. Wanted him a million times, a million ways. She wrapped her leg around his waist, pressing her hot, slick body against him suggestively. Her fingers tunneled in his hair, her teeth nibbled his ear, his shoulder, anything she could reach.
"We'll find a way. We'll find a million ways."
Rio lifted her, so that she could wrap both legs around him, so that she could settle over his body, fitting sword to sheath. He rested her against the railing and they looked at one another, locked together. Rachael leaned forward and buried her face against his neck. They clung to one another, holding tightly.
He whispered to her words of love in the language of his people. Sestrilla. Beloved one. Hafelina. Small cat. Jue amourasestrilla. I love you for all time. Anwou Jue selaviena en patreJue. In this time and in all other time.
She heard the words, recognized them although she couldn't respond in kind. The vocalization was a mixture of notes a feline used. She knew them, recognized them and found them beautiful, but she couldn't produce them exactly. Rachael lifted her head and looked at him. At his face. His eyes. His mouth. "I love you too, Rio."
As fierce as his lovemaking could be, as wild and rough as he was at times, he was infinitely tender. Kissing her with such tenderness tears welled up. His body moved in hers with deep, sure strokes, striving always for her pleasure. His hands worshipped her, shaped every curve, slid over her skin as if memorizing every detail.
He took his time, long slow strokes designed to burrow deeper, to fill her with his love. As the fever pitch rose, as they climbed together, the white mist swirled around them, as if they had created steam with the intensity of their heat. She dug her nails into his back and threw back her head, moving her hips in an answering rhythm, a dance of love, there on the verandah with the scent of orchids enfolding them and the breeze touching their bodies like fingers. All the while the rain came down, droplets of silver as the night settled in.
Rachael gasped as she felt him swell with victory, with the sheer pleasure of their joining, and she tightened her muscles around him, carrying them both over the edge. His voice b
lended with hers, a cry of joy in the darkness. They clung to one another, both reluctant to let go of the other.
A small flurry of leaves and a shower of orchid petals rained down from a branch above them and Franz tumbled onto the verandah at their feet. They jumped apart, Rio alert and ready, pressing her body against the rail in an effort to protect her. The bundle of fur rolled, bouncing off Rio's calves. The small, clouded leopard dug paws into the floor and raked his hooked claws sharply over the wood.
"I looked for claw marks in the trees," Rachael said, bending down to burrow her fingers in the small cat's fur. "But I never saw any. Why do you rake claws in the house?"
"It's more than marking territory. It's the sharpening and disposing of old sheaths. It's actually necessary, but we've been taught not to mark our passing in the forest because it draws poachers. Let them think we're gone, no longer here, and hopefully they'll stop shooting us. We choose to sharpen and mark indoors where we won't be discovered." He grinned at her, looking suddenly boyish. "Fritz and Franz learned from me."
"That's right, you're the mommy figure."
"Hey now." He toed the cat rubbing along their legs with his bare foot. "He's lonely for Fritz. They normally go everywhere together. I was hoping they'd find mates and bring me back a kitten or two, but they don't seem interested."
"Your life is much more exciting," she pointed out. "They get to brag to all the other little cats about their adventures."
They curled up on the small sofa in each other's arms, on the verandah, passing the night away, listening to the endless rain. Watching the white mist curl around them until it felt as though they were high up in the clouds. Rio held her in his arms. "I do love you, Rachael. You brought something into my life I never want to do without."
She rested her head on his chest. "I feel the same way."
Franz jumped up onto the couch, nosing the two of them, doing his best to burrow between their bodies. Rio growled at the leopard. "You're heavy, Franz, get down. You don't need to be up here."
Wild Rain Page 28
