Wild Cat (Leopard People 7)

Her face felt stiff and throbbed with every beat of her heart. Her ribs hurt. Her back and one side all the way down to her knee felt like agony. She was lying on her right side, only a sheet covered her, and it was her left side that felt as if someone had poured gasoline on it and started a fire.

"She's been moaning," a voice said--a male voice, one of hard authority--and he sounded pissed. "She's in pain. Give her something."

Her breath left her lungs in a long rush. She knew that voice. She prayed it was a dream only that Elijah Lospostos had been holding her, whispering to her to hang on, but there was no mistaking that voice of absolute authority. The worst I ever had. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

She couldn't face him. Not ever again. Certainly not like this. She hadn't glanced under the sheet, but she knew what she would see if she did. She looked like Frankenstein's monster, sewn back together in patches. She pushed her fist into her mouth to keep from weeping. She wouldn't do that in front of him.

A woman bustled around by the machine and stuck a needle into the line going into her arm. "You're awake," she said brightly. "This should take care of the pain. I'll let the doctor know you're awake."

Siena didn't respond. She bit down harder on her fist, wanting to scream at Elijah to leave. What was he doing there? Had he been there the entire time? The woman left the room, and she felt his hand on her hair--hair that was braided. She nearly groaned aloud, remembering the feel of hands in her hair, a brush. That low male murmuring as he braided her hair to keep it out of her face and make her more comfortable when she'd been so hot.

"Go away, Elijah," she ordered flatly.

"You know I'm not going to do that, baby," he said softly.

She opened her eyes and there he was. Close. Too close. His hand stroked a caress through her hair and tears burned behind her eyes. She didn't want his pity. "I can't face you right now. Please just go."

"We'll get through this. You're on the road to recovery finally. The fever has subsided, and it looks like the antibiotics have finally kicked in."

She was afraid to move. Whatever drug the nurse had given her was actually beginning to work and she didn't feel like screaming in pain for the first time since she'd become aware. She didn't want that agony to come back. That meant staring into Elijah's eyes, eyes that changed color continually, one moment light mercury and the next as dark as night. Her breath caught in her throat. He needed a haircut, but the need suited him, giving him a disheveled, sexy look that went with his handsome face. He was a beautiful man, with his black tee stretched across his heavily muscled chest and his jeans fitting his narrow hips and tight butt perfectly.

He was breathtaking. She didn't want him to look at her, and she certainly didn't want to meet his eyes. She couldn't. The worst I've ever had. His words were burned into her brain.

"Don't, Siena," he said softly, as if he could read her thoughts. "I was full of shit, saying those things to you. I fucked up. I know that. You know that. We have to move past that because we both know I'm not going anywhere."

She stared at the wall just over his head.

"Siena. I told you I fucked up. I'm saying we need to move past it."

Something inside her broke. She wanted to leap at him, anger moving through her humiliation. "Move past it? Exactly what should I move past, Elijah? Move past the things you said to me? Sorry, the things you said can't be unsaid. Move past the fact that you shoved me out a door naked when I was in shock? I don't think there is moving past those things. Please leave before I call security."

"I am your security," he snapped. "No one is going to throw me out, baby, least of all you. You're going to have to come to terms with that fact. You know everything I said to you was bullshit, so move on."

"Oh. My. God." She forgot about the pain--probably because it had subsided--and she lifted her head, glaring at him. "You are so arrogant. And idiotic. Seriously idiotic if you think I'm just going to forget what you said to me. I can repeat it word for word if you like."

"I wouldn't like," he said, his eyes nearly glowing at her as if he had every right to be angry. "And lie down before you hurt yourself."

"You can stop giving me orders and get out of my room."

He put a hand on her shoulder and applied pressure until she had no choice but to subside against the pillow. For a moment satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. She saw the leopard there, and she knew he was one of them. She knew it. His temper. His arrogance. The sheer power he exuded just walking into a room.

Siena narrowed her eyes at him. "I can't believe you. You have no right . . ."

He leaned so close her breath caught in her lungs and her angry retort caught in her throat. His mouth skimmed her ear. "I have every right. Every right, Siena. You're mine. Your leopard accepted me. You gave yourself to me. You have my child growing inside of you. Believe me, baby, you belong to me. I don't give up what's mine. So move past the bullshit and let's deal with what we've got going on now."

She stared at him, feeling another body blow. A hard one. You have my child growing inside of you. Did he just say that? Did she hear him right? She opened her mouth but the only sound that emerged was a soft cry of anguish. She closed her eyes, jammed her fist back in her mouth and bit down hard. It didn't help. Tears started. Once they did, she couldn't stop them.

She cried silently, a storm that couldn't possibly be held back. She wept for the men who had died after she'd distracted them, allowing a hit man to get into place. She wept for her grandfather who she loved more than anyone on earth. She wept for the fact that her beloved grandfather had used her to do something that vile. She wept because she'd given herself to Elijah Lospostos and he'd thrown her out his front door naked.

"Baby, enough," Elijah soothed, his hand back in her hair. "We'll work this all out. No one can get to you. We've got the team in place . . ."

She couldn't stop the tears. There was that awful first time. The only time. The worst he'd ever had, and now there were consequences because she had been so out of control and burning up for him that she hadn't thought about what could happen. A child. Elijah's child. If Paolo or Alonzo found out they'd move heaven and earth to get to her. They'd do something terrible.

She lost sight of Elijah and then felt his weight on the bed. He actually stretched out beside her, careful of her back, but his arm went around her waist and his breath was on the nape of her neck.

"Baby. Go ahead and cry, then. Let it go. All of it."

"Go away, Elijah." It came out muffled and teary because of her fist. She also sounded a little desperate.

"You need to cry, then cry, but you're going to do it in my arms."

She didn't fight him. What was the use? Right then she felt too raw and exposed, and truthfully, there was comfort in his closeness. She didn't want to feel that way, not when he was the cause of her total humiliation, but still, he made her feel as if she really were safe, and she hadn't felt that in a long while, not even as a child. Not since the kidnapping attempts.

There had always been rumors about her grandfather, but even the Feds hadn't found anything. His businesses all had appeared legitimate. Sometimes she'd been suspicious because the army of men who worked for him clearly carried guns and did little more, it seemed, than watch both her grandfather and her closely. She had come to believe they were bodyguards, there to protect them, and even if they completely ruined any chance of dating, or having friends, they gave her grandfather peace of mind. Now she knew none of that was the truth.

Nothing she had believed had been the truth. Elijah was a part of that world. In fact, the Feds had investigated his family business numerous times. He'd always managed to come out without them finding the evidence they were certain was there, but everyone knew his family's reputation. She had made herself believe he was just like her grandfather, wealthy, an astute businessman who had made enemies on the way. Her grandfather was guilty, so there was no doubt in her mind that Elijah was guilty.

"I'm not pregna

nt." She announced it firmly through her tears, into her clenched fist and the knuckles she'd bitten. Her hands were sore when she curled her fingers but she needed something to focus on.

"Okay, baby." He pressed a kiss to her nape.

She closed her eyes. If he'd argued, there might have been a possibility he just threw that out there. She didn't know how many days had passed while the fever raged and she'd been in and out, but she knew some of the bruises had really faded and that meant some time had passed. Still, surely they couldn't know for certain, but he wasn't arguing with her. That was just plain scary.

"Elijah." She said his name softly. A protest. "Please." Fresh tears burned her eyes. He had to say he was lying. He just had to.

He held her closer, shifting so that her buttocks were pressed tightly against his front. She could feel him, the very male part of him. She should have felt threatened, but instead, something inside of her settled. It was all too much. She couldn't fight on every front, nor could she process everything that had happened to her. She just couldn't. If he'd just take it back, tell her it wasn't true, that she wasn't pregnant, she could cope--at least for the next few minutes.

"Siena, sweetheart, just stop thinking. Let it go. Drake Donovan is here and our team has you completely surrounded. No one can get to you. Your job is just to heal."

She moistened her lips. She remembered something else he'd done. She'd surfaced a couple of times to the feel of his finger rubbing something soothing on her dry lips. He'd leaned into her and brushed a kiss across her forehead. Gently. She couldn't quite reconcile the two men. Elijah was rough and demanding. Bossy. Arrogant. The man who braided her hair and applied a lip balm was gentle and sweet. She had to have been dreaming, but if so, why was he lying on the bed with her holding her so gently, so careful of her injuries? Why was he pressing a soft kiss onto her nape?

The door opened. She stiffened, her heart accelerating. She was turned away from the door out of necessity and it was truly frightening not to know who had entered, but Elijah didn't move.

"Relax, baby. It's just Drake."

The man came around the bed to lean down toward her. He didn't make a sound. He had the hard, powerful look of the leopard she was coming to recognize, but his eyes were kind. Tender even. He smiled at her.

"I'm Drake Donovan."

The moment she saw him, fresh tears started. She hadn't cried so much since the time she'd been kidnapped. She covered her face with her hand. "Thank you for coming." But what was he doing there? Who had called him? "I want . . ." She sniffed. "To hire . . ." She couldn't stop the tears coursing down her cheeks so she gave up trying, accepting that she needed to cry. "You," she managed to get out.

Elijah nuzzled her neck, his hands stroking her. His palm at her waist, his fingers splayed wide, feathering caresses and heat at her back, tracing along the path of each of the rake marks with the pads of his fingers as if that would erase the lacerations forever.

"You have to make him go away and stay away from me."

"Who has to go away?" Drake asked.

"Elijah." There. She'd done it. She'd sent him away, and she wouldn't be touched or soothed or humiliated by him ever again. She wouldn't be pregnant. She wouldn't remember the worst I ever had every time she saw him or heard his voice. She wouldn't remember being a part of murder.

Elijah didn't so much as shift position. His hands didn't pause, not even for a moment.

"He's one of them. Like my grandfather." Now, she'd even betrayed him. There would be no going back from there.

Elijah pressed his lips into the nape of her neck. His teeth scraped along her skin, and instead of scaring her, it felt erotic. That scared her.

"He has to go," she blurted. She sounded desperate.

"Elijah is a big part of my team, Siena. He is not like your grandfather." Drake's voice was impossibly gentle. "He walks a very fine line, half in our world and half in the underbelly, but I can assure you, he is on your side. If you trusted me enough to come looking for me and to hire me, you have to trust my judgment."

Elijah couldn't stay. She shook her head, her gaze jumping to Drake's face, eyes pleading.

"Baby," Elijah whispered softly against her bare neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now when you need me to protect you. Not ever. Get that through your head. I'm your security. I'm part of Drake's team, and that means all of his men. All the men who work for me. Paolo and Alonzo will never come near you again."

A shudder went through her body at the thought of Paolo getting close to her. She couldn't think about him, so she pushed him out of her mind. She couldn't think about her grandfather or Elijah or anything else. She closed her eyes, pulled the sheet up to her face and hid from the two men. Hid from the world. Hid from herself.

5

SIENA stood shakily by the side of the car, her legs feeling like rubber. Any minute she was going to collapse in a little heap onto the ground. No one listened to her. Not at all. No matter what she said. How much she protested. She was not going back into that house. Not ever. She didn't care what any of them said.

Elijah had announced he wasn't leaving her ever and he'd said it in his low, firm voice, with his bossy, commanding tone, but she hadn't considered even for a minute that he might mean that literally. He barely had left her hospital room during her stay--and that stay had been lengthy, Doc insisting she stay for over two weeks. The doctor and nurses addressed him instead of her when discussing her progress or care. Drake deliberated security details with him. It was her life, but everyone had the very false impression that she belonged to Elijah--even Elijah.

She realized her mistake now. She'd let him take control in the hospital because she was in too much pain, both mentally and physically, to cope or process. It was easier to let Elijah take her over. She didn't have to think about anything. Her mind felt numb most of the time and she just seemed to drift. She thought a lot about her grandfather, and to her shame, she found herself angry at him. Really angry. He'd deceived her her entire life. He'd kept her shifter heritage from her. He'd used her. Antonio had been her only family and he'd betrayed her. He'd promised her to a man like Paolo, and when Paolo beat her, he had condoned it, calling her a whore.

Siena stood, staring in horror up at the huge house, tucked into Elijah's side, swaying and weak, shaking her head. Her life had been taken out of her hands and now she was surrounded by another army of men, most of whom she didn't know. She had gone along with everything, staying silent, withdrawn, but not this time. Not over this. No way was she setting one foot in that house.

"I'm not staying here," she declared.

"Siena."

Her name. A soft reprimand. So gentle her heart turned over. She tried to pull away. Elijah seemed to control her with his voice, but not this time.

"I mean it. I will not go in there." Humiliation stained her tone. She knew it. She couldn't help reliving that moment when he'd looked at her with such contempt, said horrible, brain-searing things to tear down her self-esteem as a woman and then shoved her out of his home as if she were a piece of garbage.

A small sound escaped--a whimper of pain--and that embarrassed her further. Her face flushed red, the color creeping up her neck. She knew he was reliving the same moment right along with her and that made it so much worse. More than she could bear.

Siena tried to pull away from him, but his arm tightened around her waist and he bent his head toward hers.

"Look at me."

She shook her head and continued to strain against his arm, which had somehow turned into a steel band.

"Siena, look at me. Right. Fucking. Now." He bit out the last three words between his teeth.

She stilled, her heart fluttering. There was a distinct warning in his voice. Almost of its own volition, her gaze jumped to meet his.

"Stop. I mean it. You're weak and about to fall down. If you don't stop, I'll be carrying you into the house."

"I'm not staying here." She force

d herself to meet his steely gaze even though panic welled up as his eyes darkened and he scowled at her. She'd wondered when the real Elijah would come out. The mean, jerky Elijah who bossed her around and threw her naked out of his house. This house. The one he wanted her to go back into.

"I'm done arguing with you." He swung her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest, forcing her to grab on to him.

"That wasn't an argument," she protested, her panic becoming full blown.

Elijah ignored her and stalked up the walkway toward the front door. She buried her face against his neck, not wanting to see the foyer, her fingers clutching at his shoulders so hard her nails bit into him.

Holding her still with one arm, he began to slide his key into the lock. He went still. Unmoving. Inhaling. He left the key in the lock and turned toward the two men trailing behind them. Drake Donovan and a man named Joshua Tregre. He lifted his hand, fist closed, and both men halted abruptly.

Siena's heart began to pound. Something was wrong, but she didn't want to ask what. She didn't dare. Whatever it was, Elijah was backing slowly off the porch. Once he was down a couple of steps, he hurried away from the house with her.

"I smell a male leopard." Elijah set Siena on her feet and pushed her toward Drake. "Joshua and I will search for him or whatever he left behind. Keep her safe."

"No." She caught at his arm, suddenly terrified. Suddenly comprehending. She didn't want to be with him but she didn't want him dead either. Paolo had to have visited Elijah's home while he was in the hospital with her. "Let's just go away from here. Come away, Elijah, right now."

He cupped her face in his hands, the pad of his thumb sliding over her lower lip. "It's going to be all right, baby. This isn't new to me--to any of us."

"I'll stay with you, Elijah," she offered, her hold on his shirt tightening. "I will. If you come away with me now, I'll stay with you." Trying to save him. Desperate to save him, and she didn't know why.