Wild Cat (Leopard People 7)
1
"SIENA, bella, come see your old nonno for a minute."
Siena obediently dropped her car keys on the table and hurried into the sitting room her grandfather preferred. The room was cozy and always just a little too warm. As a rule that didn't b
other her, but for some reason lately, her body seemed overheated. She was restless and edgy and hot. Very hot. Her skin ached, felt too tight, stretched over her frame. Even her jaw hurt. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, and for the first time in her life, she burned between her legs. Like crazy. It was awful.
The condition seemed to come and go at will for no apparent reason. It had started a couple of weeks earlier and was getting significantly worse. She was grateful she had just earned her master's of science in oenology and had come home, although being in the same room with her beloved grandfather when her body was on fire was decidedly uncomfortable.
She needed to get out of the house--immediately. Lately, the condition had gotten so bad she was seriously thinking about visiting an adult store and getting herself a toy. A really good one. Sheesh. She'd never looked at a man like that. Well, that wasn't strictly the truth. She'd once seen Elijah Lospostos when she was fifteen. They sat across from each other at a dinner when she'd been home from boarding school. He was at least eight years older than her. Maybe ten. It hadn't mattered. The moment she'd laid eyes on him, something wild unfurled deep inside of her. She'd barely been able to keep her eyes off of him. He was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. Ever. And her grandfather employed a lot of men.
She tried as hard as she could not to stare at him, but sometimes she'd felt his gaze on her, and every time she'd looked up, his eyes were looking at her. There was no mistake. He smiled. She didn't. She blushed. A horrible reaction. He'd tried to engage her in conversation and she'd stammered. Blushed more. It had been horrible. She was smart. Brilliant. She was already doing college courses. And she couldn't say a single intelligent word to him. Even the memory embarrassed her.
"What is it, Nonno?" she asked, bending to brush a kiss along his jaw. She ruffled his hair. He still had a wild mane of hair. All silver, but thick as a cat's pelt. His eyes, a dark chocolate, were faded, but still sharp. "I'm off to the gym." Because she really, really needed to work out hard. Tire herself to the point of exhaustion so she could actually get some sleep. She was desperate for sleep.
"I need a favor, bella, a small one for an old man, eh?" he coaxed.
As if she had ever in her life turned him down when he asked her for something. She was rarely at the house. She had been in boarding school most of her life and then college, but she treasured her times at home with him. He was her only living relative. It was just Antonio Arnotto and his granddaughter. The two of them.
"What would that be, Nonno?" she asked, trying to sound stern. She knew she failed when the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. She sank down onto the arm of his chair and ruffled all that silver hair again.
"I want you to take a case of my best reserve to a friend. His birthday was last week and I forgot to send a gift around. My beautiful granddaughter delivering it personally will make up for this mistake, no?"
She laughed. "It seems you have a lot of friends with birthdays and anniversaries you forget until your granddaughter comes home."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not getting any younger, Siena, and you might start thinking about marriage and babies. Come to think of it, Elijah isn't married, and he's not getting any younger. He's quite good-looking." He winked at her.
She bit down on her lower lip to try to keep from blushing. Just the mere mention of Elijah's name set her heart pounding and her stomach whooshing a slow somersault. He was good-looking. Hot. Gorgeous. And way out of her league. She wasn't going to tell her grandfather that.
"Stop being a matchmaker. You'll get your babies in due time, I promise." Maybe sooner than he wanted if her body didn't stop with the meltdown-frantic-for-sex-now routine.
She'd taken to looking at her grandfather's bodyguards. And his number one man, Paolo, the man her grandfather dreamed of having her marry. Paolo watched her all the time. He always had. His gaze burned through her. He was good-looking and always very polite to her, but she knew he was a hound dog. He went through women, and word was, he wasn't very nice about it. She'd heard rumors from some of the maids and the cook that he ruled his women with an iron fist. She wasn't hooking up with him, even though she knew he was more than willing.
"I'm not getting any younger," he repeated, patting her hand. "Be a good girl and deliver the wine for me. Give Elijah my best. Tell him not to be such a stranger and to drop by once in a while to see an old man."
"I will, Nonnino," she murmured and kissed the top of his head.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her stomach tightened. She knew without turning her head that Paolo Riso had stepped into the room. He was all roped muscle and fluid grace, and for such a big man he moved in complete silence. She knew he was very intelligent, and her grandfather relied heavily on him. She had always gotten along with him, even liked him when she was younger, but the last few years she'd visited home, he made her very uncomfortable.
She turned her head and forced a smile. His eyes were on her. Gleaming. Watching. Hooded. Holding secrets. Secrets she was certain involved her--none of them good. He was very close to her grandfather, and her grandfather treated him as he might a son. She wanted to love him for that alone, but instead, each time she came back home, she found herself becoming more and more uneasy around him.
Not like her grandfather's second-in-command. Alonzo Massi made her entire body tense, shiver even, with revulsion. The man's body was massive with ropes of muscle, and he was just plain scary. His eyes were always following her around, and he appeared as cold as a snake. She wasn't certain what kind of job he actually did for her grandfather, but she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the winery.
"Hey, Paolo." She gave him a smile. She was very good at smiling and making it seem genuine. "How's it going?"
"Good, bella." Paolo moved right to her.
She forced air through her lungs, knowing what was coming. He was getting bolder and bolder, and always in front of her beaming grandfather, who clearly approved. He took both hands and pulled her to her feet. Pulled her into him. He leaned down, and she turned her face slightly so his lips brushed her cheek rather than her lips.
Deep inside something that was out of control and wild leapt toward the surface. She was shocked and pulled back, although Paolo didn't release her hands. He stared down at her face and there was speculation there. His eyes changed color, yellow flecks spreading through the dark brown until they almost looked like a cat's. Wholly focused on her. Unblinking.
Heat moved through her body. This wasn't good. She tugged on her hands to get him to release her.
"I have to go. Nonno asked me to run an errand for him, and I want to get to the gym tonight as well."
Paolo frowned. He didn't release her hands, but looked over his shoulder at her grandfather. "Perhaps someone else should run the errand, Antonio."
There was something very subtle in his voice. A warning. An order? Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Siena very firmly pulled her hands away, not bothering with being polite. She always thought the infamous Arnotto temper had skipped her, but right then she knew it hadn't. Edgy and restless turned to fierce and formidable. She drew herself up--and wished she was wearing her heels--but she could look haughty without them and she gave Paolo her best princess to peasant look.
"I told Nonno I would take the gift to Signor Lospostos and I will." She tossed her head, the long mane of very thick hair flying around her face and down to her waist. Bending down, she skimmed another kiss on her grandfather's head and then left the room with a small wave. "Addio Nonnino. Addio, Paolo, please take care of Nonno for me."
She ran back upstairs to her room without a backward glance. If she was delivering wine to Elijah Lospostos, arguably the hottest man in the universe, then she was going to take a little care with her appearance. She quickly stuffed her gym clothes in a bag and changed. She didn't want to look like she went all out. He probably wouldn't even notice her, but still, she was going to look good.
Siena knew she was pretty. She l
ooked in the mirror, and she knew. She had great skin. Perfect skin. Italian skin. Her eyes were unusual. Very large, shaped like a cat's, so she looked exotic to people. They were green. Not just any green; a deep, pure brilliant green, and she had lush, thick, very black eyelashes. She was blessed with those eyes.
She had the most annoying hair in the world, although even she had to admit it was beautiful. There just was too much of it. It grew and grew and never seemed to stop. She'd tried cutting it, but that seemed to make it grow faster and even thicker than ever, so she gave up and just went with the old-fashioned look. Thick, rich, luxurious, her hair fell well past her waist in waves. It was impossible to tame, so she mostly wore it up when she was home, pulled back in a ponytail or braid. At school, of course, she had to appear a little more sophisticated, so she used updos of intricate braids spun in all kinds of lovely knots.
Her nose was straight, her cheekbones high and her mouth a little too generous, but she did have straight teeth without having to go to the orthodontist. She was short. There was no getting around that. She had tried to gain a few inches by hanging upside down on the bars when she was a child, but that hadn't helped at all. She had a small waist and a narrow rib cage, but along with that generous mouth, her hips and breasts were a little bit on the generous side too. No matter how much she worked out or watched what she ate, she had curves. Lush curves.
She sighed. She'd seen Elijah with a tall, thin model once, coming out of a coffee shop. The woman had blond hair and blue eyes. His arm was around her and they were laughing together. She saw him in the distance at another party her grandfather had thrown when she was sixteen, and another one at nineteen, and he'd had a different model on his arm. Tall. Thin. Beautiful. Blond. And yet again, a few years later in a magazine. Tall. Thin. Beautiful. Blond. Again. He had a type and that type was so not her. She was short and dark and totally curvy. She looked even younger than she was, not at all sophisticated. She knew when she delivered the wine, Elijah would look at her like she was a little kid, like he always did. Antonio Arnotto's little granddaughter. Still, she was determined to go looking her best.