Leopard's Wrath (Leopard People 11)

The relief that she had come out onto the balcony prepared was tremendous. On the other hand, he detested that she would have to consider taking weapons with her when she just wanted to sit outside on her balcony and watch the rain. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to be outside. It was cool and beautiful with the silvery drops falling. The rain on the roof sounded like music.

Even though Mitya understood, he still wanted to shake her. She’d scared him. He didn’t take well to that. Neither did his leopard. He forced himself to sit in the chair beside her. “The meeting didn’t give us anything new, kotyonok.” His voice was edged with disappointment. “I was hoping for something. Anything. I know Lazar is here. He had to have come in from Houston. I’m sure of it, but I don’t know who helped him.”

She closed her eyes. He could see the fan of her lashes against the single light from the bedroom. He didn’t like that she was backlit. There were no houses or rooftops for a sniper to lie in wait, but there were hills. He got up, went into the bedroom and turned off the light. When he returned, there were tears on her face. The sight nearly broke him. Mitya reached down, gathered her up—blanket and all—and sat back down in her chair, holding her close.

“The Caruso family runs the docks in Houston,” she whispered. “Alessandro came into the bakery just as Jewel was rising. He saw us leave.”

He brushed a kiss along her temple. Gentle, because she needed gentle, even though at the mention of Alessandro, both Mitya and Dymka wanted to rip something—or someone—apart. “Is that why you’re upset? You think that means Alessandro or his family betrayed your father and you?” He tried not to sound anything but calm.

She shook her head. “It’s the blood. I showered and scrubbed my foot. I even took two baths, but I can’t get his blood off me. I can feel it, Mitya. Hitting me. I fell asleep on the bed but it woke me up. When I kicked him, it splattered all over my foot and leg.”

Mitya tightened his arms around her. “You know it isn’t on your skin, baby. It feels like that when you take someone’s life. It isn’t meant to be easy.” It was easy for him. Too easy, but he knew that wasn’t right.

“That man, as bad as he was, was someone’s child. Someone’s sibling.” There was a sob in her voice.

He didn’t tell her that Albert had earned his place in Lazar’s upper echelon by helping his father kill his own mother. She didn’t need to hear that shit. “I don’t know what makes a man turn bad, but he did. He hurt a lot of women. You stopped that. He’ll never be able to hurt a child or woman again.” She needed to hear that at least. He pressed her face into his shoulder and then stroked her hair gently, rocking her.

“I know I had to do it to save us, but I didn’t know he would take a piece of me with him when he died.”

He took a breath to keep from reacting. “Albert was the worst of my father’s lieutenants. He was a very sick individual. He didn’t care what age they were, old or very, very young, he liked hurting females. He liked humiliating them. That man doesn’t get a piece of you dead or alive. His blood isn’t on you, Ania.”

He bunched her hair in his fist and pulled her head back, so he could look into her eyes. “He doesn’t get one little part of you. I could tell you things he did, but those things are so vile you would never get them out of your head. All three of those men were cruel and they liked hurting others weaker than they were. My father is the worst of all of them.”

Her eyes searched his and then she nodded, her lashes sweeping down. Mitya took her mouth. Those trembling lips. The knowledge of what he was saying was in her eyes, slowly sinking in, but he didn’t want her thinking about Albert, or Taras or Kronya. He wanted her to forget they ever existed. He could take on the burden of those vile men, but he didn’t want any part of them touching Ania.

The moment he kissed her, his lips moving over hers, he felt the familiar fire erupt deep inside him. She seemed to pour some accelerant down his throat so that it spread through his veins and arteries, moving into his belly to build into a conflagration so hot and wild that by the time it hit his groin, he was already going up in flames.

She always gave herself up to him completely. Ania never held back with him. She surrendered herself to him, gave herself into his keeping, and he loved that about her. His hands moved beneath the blanket and found her naked under a shirt far too big for her. Shaping her rib cage, he pulled back far enough to look down at her.