"Damn straight it is, and you'd better remember it."
"Perhaps you might tell me all the rules so I don't keep making mistakes."
He studied her face. Her brilliant cobalt eyes. "Are you being a smart-ass right now? Do you think that's really wise?" It was difficult to judge her mood. More than anything she looked defiant. He didn't do defiant very well and his leopard liked it even less. He forced the cat under control when it rose snarling and raking at him with demanding claws.
She shrugged and stepped into the tub. He was close enough to see the small shiver that ran through her body. She wasn't nearly as sure of herself--or of him. He stepped close to her. Very close. Close enough for her to see the bulge straining against his trousers, but then she'd been seeing it every day for four long days and nights and she hadn't done a damn thing about it.
"You've got twenty minutes and then I want you out of here. I'll be on the kitchen porch. I want you to join me."
"I'm tired. I thought I'd just go to bed."
His gaze slashed her face. "I'm restraining myself here, Cat. Keep it up and you're going to find yourself in trouble and believe me, baby, when I say you won't like the trouble you're getting into. Join me in twenty minutes and don't be late." He shoved the bottle of water at her. "And drink this. How many times do I have to fucking tell you to hydrate after working out?"
She took the bottle of water, her eyes searching his face. He kept his features hard. Implacable. No give. He wasn't feeling like giving. He was feeling like taking. He'd had enough of waiting for her to come to him. She wasn't going to do it, and unless he wanted to wait for her reluctant leopard to emerge, he was never going to have her soft body surrounding his with heat and fire. He turned and abruptly stormed out.
Catarina slowly twisted the cap off the water bottle, all the while keeping her gaze on the empty doorway. Her heart hammered too fast. Too hard. Too loud. Had he heard? She wouldn't be surprised if he had and if he had, he hadn't cared enough to do anything about it. The story of her life. She had planned a good long crying fest, a pity party right there in the bathtub.
Elijah just had to tell that horrible, humiliating story to Eli. She pressed the cool water bottle to her hot face. As a temptress, she was an utter failure. She had no idea how to entice Eli into touching her. She didn't want to make the first move because she felt awkward.
Where was that hussy of a leopard when she needed her? Eli had all but retreated from her. He was angry, but she wasn't certain why. She'd done everything he'd asked of her, no matter how difficult, no matter how tiring. She could only guess that he wanted her so tired he wouldn't have to touch her. Now, after hearing what Elijah had said, he really wouldn't want to touch her, but he needed sex all the time, so she was rather handy to have around.
Eli was nearly always hard around her. She couldn't miss the state of his body, yet he hadn't even tried to have sex with her, not even when they lay naked in bed together and his cock was pressed so tight against her. Was she really that awful? Or was it because the challenge was gone? She'd given herself to him and since then, he'd rejected her.
She drew her knees up tight against her chest. Eli had been bad-tempered, moody and even mean with her since that first morning after. She'd never been able to get Cordeau's attention and as a child, she'd tried. She'd been desperate for someone, anyone at all to take an interest in her. He never had. She'd been cared for just the way he cared for the objects in his home. Now she had the same problem with Eli. She didn't know how to get his attention.
Eli had used that voice, the one that made her shiver. The one that made her go hot. The one that always sent fire dancing between her legs. Did he know what that voice did to her? Did he realize just talking to her like that made her weak with need? She sighed and pressed her fingertips to her eyes.
She knew that these past four days she did what she always did when she didn't know what to do. She retreated. Withdrew. Eli had let her. He'd acted almost disinterested in her. He was more worried about how fast she ran and how far. She hadn't made one complaint, not one, no matter how sore she was or how bad it hurt when they were sparring. She had done every single thing he asked and she cooked the best meals she could think of. Still, that hadn't been enough for him.
Eli had been in a foul mood every single day. She didn't know what she'd done or what she was supposed to do. She just knew it wasn't good enough. Nothing she did was good enough. She contemplated defying him, but it wasn't worth the effort. She really was tired of it all. She just wanted to go to bed and pull the blankets over her head and just hide.
Catarina dried off slowly and pulled on one of Eli's flannel shirts. At least she felt clean and alive again after their workout. She wandered into the kitchen. The dishes were still in the sink so she rinsed them and began to put them in the dishwasher.
"Kitten. Come here. Now."
Catarina heard the rough in his voice. His sensual, sexy growl that always made her wet. Her body reacted with hunger. With anticipation. Excitement. At the same time, she was tired of being ordered around by a man who didn't care enough to talk to her. To explain anything. She didn't deserve his foul mood.
She wandered over to the screen, pushed it open with one hand and stood in the doorway looking at him. He sat in the shadows, in his favorite chair, his hair damp from his shower and his eyes all cat. And maybe that was the trouble. He was more leopard than man. "What is it you want from me, Eli?" she asked softly. "More sex? That seems to be all you want from me, but only when you want it. I don't right now."
His eyes narrowed. Fury burned. She didn't care. She stood her ground. She wasn't backing down.
"Do you think I don't know when my woman wants me?"
"You're talking about my body, Eli, which strictly speaking isn't all me. My body wants you. I'm not denying that. But I don't. Me. The woman. You hurt me. You didn't notice, or you didn't care. You demand all the time that I talk to you--that I tell you everything going through my mind, but you don't bother to give me that same courtesy. I asked you if you were angry with me and you refused to answer. I have no idea what I've done to set you off and quite frankly, right at this minute, I don't even care."
That was such a lie. She did care. It hurt to have him upset. She'd trusted him all over again. Given herself to him. Declared she'd stay with him and start their relationship over. She knew she was going to cry and that upset her more. Those leopard eyes staring at her without blinking, coming out of the dark like they did, were terrifying. But she refused to back down.
"You'd better start caring, Cat," he snapped back.
"Why? So we can have sex and you can walk off a happy man again? That's all that matters to you, isn't it, Eli. If you'd just left it there it would have been fine. We could have sex and you could be in control and I'd just go along with it, because really, in your eyes, that's all I'm good for."
"Do you really believe that the only thing I value you for is for sex?" he demanded, his voice harsh.
"Why would you value me even for sex?" she shot back. "I don't know the first thing about it. You tell me to put my mouth on you in the mornings when I wake up and you did so knowing I couldn't possibly do more than give you a brief kiss. That's a set-up, kind of like when Rafe forced me to read that poem so he could make fun of me. For you, I'm more like a body you can use, and if I don't do exactly as you say, you go up in flames."
His face changed. The anger glittered in his eyes, and the lines in his face hardened more. He was up, crossing the distance between them so fast she almost didn't see him move. He was intimidating up close. He smelled wild. Feral. His hands belied his scent and those golden eyes. He reached for her and drew her reluctant body against his--and he was gentle when he touched her, which shocked her.
"Catarina, I don't understand how you could think you mean so little to me. Or that I'd be capable of making fun of you when you do something so beautiful and giving as waking me up in a loving way in the mornings."
She turned red. She felt the color sweeping up her neck into her face. At night, erotic images played through her mind. His body heat scorched her. She could taste him in her mouth. Feel him on her skin. Sometimes she even felt him inside of her. She wanted to be able to match him in every way, but she didn't know what she was doing. He knew that.
"Why are you angry with me, Eli? And don't say you're not." It was painful to ask him. She'd done everything she could to please him and it wasn't enough. She never seemed to be enough, no matter how hard she tried.
His hand moved through her hair, as if soothing her, yet his eyes were still all predator watching prey. "I've given you every opportunity to think about it, but you chose not to take any of them." The edge in his voice increased and his eyes went from amber to a fierce golden liquid, taking her breath.
"I don't know what that means, Eli," she admitted.
"It means, baby, I'm done with the fucking bullshit. I've wanted those lips of yours wrapped around me every fucking morning but you haven't exactly been cooperative."
"You wanted your cock in my mouth?" she echoed, thinking of every morning when she'd been too shy to do what she wanted, which apparently was what he'd been waiting for. "You were waiting for me to . . . um . . . initiate it?"