Cat's Lair

by Christine Feehan

  "He'd kill you, Eli. He might even kill me, leopard or no leopard. At the very least, he'd make me pay with the blood of the people I care about."

  His golden gaze searched her blue one. One hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb sliding over her skin. "That's it. You observed I had no phone and you just confirmed it out loud?"

  She nodded. "And don't forget the part where you totally shot down my Zen fantasy."

  His smile was slow in coming but it was genuine and it warmed his eyes. "I'll have to see what I can do about replacing that one with something else."

  She felt a shiver go right through her. She had wanted to see if she could make him smile like that. He might be the worst grump in the world in the morning with no coffee and he had definitely shattered every dream she had of a Zen master, but he was gorgeous and all man standing in her space, smelling like a rain forest and sex. He looked darkly sensual, and intensely masculine.

  "One more thing, Kitten," Eli added, his fingers skimming her chin with the same gentle caress, robbing her of breath. "I wouldn't bet the bank on Cordeau being able to kill me so easily."

  She shivered again, this time because he sounded like he meant it. She even took a step back but bumped against the counter. There was no way to look away from his focused stare. She was caught there, her mouth dry, her heart pounding. His dangerous quality was back, clinging to him like a second skin. He wasn't the same kind of dangerous as Rafe, but she could see the predator in him now. She saw the leopard, and there was no doubt in her mind that he could kill if he needed to. That he would kill if he needed to.

  "Don't." He said the word softly.

  She couldn't breathe. She stared up at him, shaking her head, having no idea what he meant.

  "Don't look at me like that. Don't ever be afraid of me. You took a step back and you look as if you think I might hit you. That could never happen, baby."

  Clutching the coffee cup, she lifted her hand to her scalp, the memory of his behavior in the warehouse and the truck washing over her. What had she been thinking? That he really was Ridley Cromer just because they'd had sex? Her body ached all over. She had marks on her skin. That hadn't been making love. They'd had sex. Rough sex. She'd suddenly felt all sweet and melty inside. That didn't change who or what he was.

  "Kitten." He groaned softly, and his fingers went to her scalp, massaging gently. "I didn't hit you. Remember that when you're condemning me. You attacked me more than once and I restrained you, but I didn't hit you. In the truck, I had to stop you. A leopard can track through scent. Your scent could not be on that ground. You knew he was leopard and you knew you were risking him finding you."

  "I wanted to get away from you," she admitted in a low voice.

  She hated the way her body went into meltdown at his touch. That confused her more than anything else. She should have been screaming at him not to touch her, but instead, when he did, even in such a simple way, she wanted to get closer to him. Maybe she wasn't slutty, but certainly the leopard inside of her had to be.

  "I'm well aware you wanted to get away from me, Cat," Eli said, in a voice totally devoid of feeling.

  Her gaze jumped to his. His hooded, sensual eyes were back to moving over her face broodingly. She pressed her lips together and then lifted her chin, forcing herself to look him straight in the eyes.

  "Eli, what if I don't want all this? What if my leopard chooses your leopard, but I don't choose you? What happens then?"

  His face softened. "Your leopard has already chosen, Kitten. So has mine. I'm the only man who has ever been inside of you and I'm the only man who ever will. If your choice isn't me right now, I'll have to work a hell of a lot harder to make certain it is." His thumb was back to moving gently over her skin. "Too much has happened too fast for you to be able to even have a chance at knowing what or who you want. That's why we're here. Cordeau won't find you here and neither will the DEA. You have time to figure it out."

  She didn't take her gaze from his. "Eli, you are the DEA."

  "Not here, I'm not."

  "How do I know what's real and what isn't with you?" Her heart pounded when she asked, but she watched his face, hoping for a clue.

  "You don't at first," he said. "That's something I have to prove to you. But I'm asking for you to give me a chance to prove it to you."

  She kept her eyes on his. "You didn't answer my question, Eli. What if my leopard chooses you and I don't? What happens?"

  He was silent for a long time. She didn't think he'd answer her. His thumb slid over her lips and then down to her chin. Featherlight. She felt his touch all the way to her most feminine core. Her body trembled, but more to the point, she felt the sudden damp heat between her legs. She bit at her lower lip and then sharply inhaled when his gaze settled there. Just the small act of breathing lifted her breasts beneath his flannel shirt and she became acutely aware she wore nothing beneath it. What had possessed her to be so stupid?

  He was close. So close she felt heat radiating off of him. She felt every breath he took. She felt his hunger. It was so close to the surface, and it was there in the glittering gold of his eyes. Intense. Powerful. Very focused on her. She had only to take one small step and she'd be in his arms. She wanted to be in his arms and that was just humiliating.

  He had all the experience and she had none. Sex could be another way to control her. What if he interrogated her while they were having sex? She'd probably tell him everything. She'd never be any kind of a spy, that was for certain.

  Abruptly Eli stepped back away from her, raking his fingers through his hair. "Woman, you have to stop thinking so much. Your face is an open book. I get that I fucked up and I'm doing my best to make up for that, but it hurts like hell when you look at me that way. I'm going to take my shower and you put together breakfast. That will give us both a little time away from each other."

  She nodded. Grateful and disappointed at the same time. Which again, was crazy and totally humiliating. She didn't seem to have any self-control around him.

  "As for your question, I don't honestly have an answer to that. I don't, Cat. I hadn't even considered that a woman might not want the same man her leopard wants because as a rule, they're mates. The humans are and so are the leopards."

  "So it's possible I could still leave if my leopard accepted yours," she persisted. She needed to know. She had to know she had a choice.

  "I think it would be improbable that would happen, but I think any of us can walk away if we decide we don't want what we have." He stepped into her space again, his fingers on her chin, tilting her head so she could look into his eyes, eyes that were pure cat. "As to whether or not I would turn into Cordeau without you, I can't honestly say." He dropped his hand abruptly and turned and walked out of the room.

  Catarina found herself shaking. She walked to the kitchen chair with her coffee, sat down and drew up her legs. What had he meant by that strange statement? He couldn't possibly turn into Rafe. Eli might be leopard, but he wouldn't be a part of the DEA if he wanted to commit the kinds of crimes Rafe did. Rafe's organization spanned three states. He had a large network, and it was growing every day. She just couldn't see Eli running guns or keeping prostitutes in line or creating a drug empire. Killing maybe, the rest of it no way.

  How could she want a man so much when she didn't trust him? She was very honest with herself. Eli wasn't Ridley but she was still very attracted to him. Their chemistry was off the charts. Still, sex wasn't making love. People hooked up all the time for great sex, didn't they? Couldn't she just view it like that? He knew about the little hussy inside of her. She could bide her time until her leopard made her appearance, use Eli for great sex and then if things went bad, just walk away.

  She sipped at her coffee, surprised to find it was warm, not hot. She'd always been good at figuring things out. She just had to get past the horrible hole in her heart. She still felt as if she'd been ripped to pieces, shredded inside and left empty. The problem was, she only felt that way whe
n she was alone, when Eli wasn't right next to her, and that, she knew, was a very bad sign.

  With a little sigh she got up and checked the fridge and cupboards and then found Eli's pots and pans. She liked the kitchen and the views it had. She could look out the wide windows while she cooked and watch the wind playing through the trees. It was beautiful country. She had chosen to come to Texas because she was certain the state was so large Rafe wouldn't be able to find her there.

  This countryside was beautiful, with far more trees than she expected. Eli said his leopard could run free here. She wondered what that would be like. What it would feel like. She suddenly had the desire to run free as a leopard, just to experience it. She was afraid, because she'd seen Rafe's leopard and she knew the animal was even more dangerous than the man.

  Even as a teenager, Catarina realized the leopard drove Rafe hard and it took a great deal of discipline and energy to keep that part of him under control. The leopard's traits were definitely infused in the man and now, after seeing Eli and knowing what was inside of him, she knew his leopard drove him as well.

  She paused in the act of stirring her sauce to press a hand to her stomach. Her leopard drove her as well. She'd been violent with Eli twice. More, she had practically forced him to have sex with her. She gained just a little sympathy for Rafe. Her sauce bubbled and she quickly began to stir it again. Leopards, like people, had to have their own personalities, and some had to be more difficult than others. More prone to violence. More alpha.

  She glanced toward the open archway leading toward the master bedroom. The water had gone off. Eli would be with her again soon. His leopard was pure alpha, the same as Rafe's leopard had to be. She couldn't imagine the two men coming together in any kind of agreement. They would each view the other as a threat and would feel the need to neutralize that threat.

  She fixed two plates, arranging them artistically, because for her, it wasn't just about really good food, but good presentation as well.

  Remembering the look on Eli's face when he'd said that about losing her made her heart beat faster. He walked in when she was setting the plates on the table. He looked good. He smelled good. And when he smiled at her, he took her breath away.

  She sank into the chair across the table from him, pulled up her bare feet and sat tailor fashion. "I hope you like it. I made us a skillet breakfast with hash browns and country ham biscuits. The beignets just came out of the oil and are very hot, and you have fresh coffee."

  Eli flashed another smile and something inside her responded with a warm glow. "You have no idea what a treat it is to smell food cooking in this house. I bought the place and nearly burned it down the first time I ever used that stove."

  "Someday I'm going to have my dream stove, Eli," she said. "I've always wanted a Viking."

  He paused to eat two bites of the egg scramble. "This is heaven. Every time you get in a kitchen you produce a miracle for the taste buds."

  She laughed. "'Miracle for the taste buds'? You didn't just say that, did you?"

  He shrugged and kept eating. "Sometimes even corny crap is the only thing a man can say because it's the fucking truth."

  "You swear a lot."

  "Does it bother you?"

  "How could it? I grew up in Rafe's home and all his men used foul language."

  "House," he corrected. "You grew up in his house. That was no home, Cat, any more than the number of foster homes I was in were homes."

  She hadn't known he'd been in foster homes. His parents had been murdered but he hadn't said what happened to him after that. "I'm sorry, Eli, I didn't realize."

  "It was a house."

  "It was my house," she said. "I didn't know any other way of life."

  "Do you love him?" he asked, his fork halfway to his mouth. His body still. Utterly still. His eyes on her face.

  Something moved under her skin, rolling through her like a wave. It left behind prickling as if it had agitated her nerve endings.

  "Cat?" he prompted.

  "I'm not in love with him, if that's what you mean. It was never like that between us. He didn't kiss me or show affection, at least not like other people. I don't know if Rafe is capable of actually loving anyone. I think he wants to, and if he does, I'm probably the one person he does."

  He put a forkful of food in his mouth, still regarding her steadily. "That's not an answer. Do you love him? Do you feel loyalty to him?"

  Her first reaction was a resounding "no," but something stopped her. He was asking not as the DEA, but as Eli, sitting across from her at the breakfast table. At least she thought that's who it was.

  "No. I feel sorry for him. I do. I don't know what his life was like when he was a child, but it wasn't good. I think his leopard is hard to control and enjoys violence. But he does things that are wrong. Morally wrong. More than that. So wrong there's no redemption."

  "You know this for a fact? I ask because appearances are often deceiving, especially when it comes to shifters."

  "I don't. But women would be brought to the house, prostitutes, always on his bad days. He would come to my room first and just stare at me. I was always afraid. Something in his eyes, feral. Not right."

  She shivered and put down her fork. Her thighs tingled. Burned. She rubbed her palms up and down them.

  "Did he say anything to you?"

  She shook her head. "Never. Not those nights. He left and then the prostitute would come. He would spend hours with her and then he would go out into the swamp in his leopard form." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I think he hunted and then killed her."

  He leaned toward her. "Why would you think that?"

  She took a breath. It didn't matter what she told him, she couldn't prove any of it and neither could the DEA. "I would see missing persons signs tacked to telephone poles and the sides of buildings. I recognized more than one of them. I just didn't think it could be coincidence."

  There was no way to explain Rafe and the way he was, or the difference in him when he came back from his trips to the swamp. He was more relaxed for a short period of time, less likely to retaliate with violence for some infraction among his business acquaintances or his men.

  She pushed at the heavy fall of hair hanging down her back. She should have put it up. The room was too warm. She lifted the heavy mass off her neck and felt the rise of her breasts. Her nipples rubbed against the flannel and the air left her lungs in a gasp as a wave of heat rushed over her to settle between her legs. Burning. The fire came fast, hot and ferocious, a hungry, blistering blaze that ignited before she could catch her breath. Her breasts seemed to swell to an aching need, her nipples pressing against the flannel, liking the feel of the material pushing against their hardened tips.

  Her gaze went to Eli across the table from her, taking in his wide shoulders, his thick, heavily muscled chest. Everything in her urged her to slide from her chair and crawl under the table, pull at his sweats and feast on her prize. Her mouth actually watered, remembering the taste and feel of him. She wanted to drive him out of control, to be the one to bring him to the very edge and push him over.

  She gripped the edge of the table, hard. She didn't even know how to feast on him, and yet the erotic images were in her head refusing to go away. Her skin hurt, the weight of the shirt pressing into the raw nerve endings. It was happening again and this time felt even worse. She had to be able to stay in control.

  She dropped her head and took several deep breaths, struggling with the need to claw at Eli, to rake at him, ravage him, devour him. Her body shuddered and her legs moved restlessly, unable to stop that terrible burning that demanded to be sated.

  She wasn't like this. She wasn't. She didn't know the first thing about sex and she didn't want it like this. Not without love. Not without caring. Just tearing at each other, a wild, hard mating that meant nothing at all. She couldn't do this.

  "Baby." His voice was soft. "It will be all right. We'll handle it."

  He knew. He saw her state, probably smell
ed her call. He knew--that was even more humiliating than being so out of control.

  She shook her head. "This isn't me. It's not me."

  Even her voice was different. Sultry. Low. A distinct velvet whisper designed to play on a man's senses. She wanted to scream. Rake the table with her claws. Bite Eli's lower lip and rip the sweats from his body.

  Her skin felt too tight. Her breasts were aching so badly it was painful. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She knew in another minute she would pull the shirt from her body and crawl all over Eli. She couldn't do that again. She leapt up, and raced for the door. She had no idea where she was going, but maybe she could run so fast and so far, the fire building so hot inside would go away.

  She'd taken three steps when Eli's fingers settled around her wrist. She spun back to him, a low warning growl escaping, one hand swiping toward his face. He was prepared and he moved just in time, the claws missing by a scant inch.

  The moment he touched her, she knew she was lost. His fingers burned a brand in her skin. She still tried, still fought the wild, uninhibited creature that she didn't even recognize, but it was too late, she'd already aroused Eli.

  His face was stamped with pure male sensuality. His eyes had gone molten, intense, lust rising to match her own. He caught the front of her flannel shirt and yanked down. Buttons popped and he stripped it off of her. The air hit her skin, fanning the flames even more, pushing the terrible need higher. She couldn't think, not with the roaring in her head.

  "I have to go" was all she could get out. But she wasn't going. Her hands were already sliding down his chest to find the hem of his shirt.

  He caught her face in his hands, yanking her chin up. "Look at me, Catarina. You can't run from this. She's too close. When you're like this, you need me."

  She didn't know whether she was going to scream at him or weep. She couldn't stay still, not with the fierce heat sweeping through her like a firestorm out of control. What did a shifter do when they were out in public? It was horrible. Beyond anything she'd ever imagined, and far, far worse than the first time.

  She had nowhere else to turn. Only him. Only Eli. It didn't matter that he had betrayed her, or that he might be lying. That he'd brought her to his home without her consent. There was only Eli, and he had to know what to do because she didn't.