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"It's a rule," he repeated. "You wake up, your mouth belongs either of those two places. After that, you can do any damn thing you want."

"Lucky me." She went back to her chopping.

He found himself smiling. She didn't argue with him and he was fairly certain he'd made his point.

"Speaking of kissing, Kitten," he said, paying great attention to the coffee machine. He didn't understand why her coffee was so much better. He followed her instructions to the letter, but it just didn't come out quite the same. "That same rule applies at night when we go to bed."

"Oh, for heaven's sake. What about your mouth?"

He laughed softly and toed a chair around so he could straddle it as he watched her work. "It's only fair if the same rule applies to me. I wake up, my mouth is on yours or between your legs. Whichever works best at the time."

She nearly choked. The blush stole up from inside the shirt to her neck. "I see," she managed to get out.

He liked watching her cook. She enjoyed it. There was no doubt in his mind, she would be happy in his house, making it a home for them. He liked sitting in their kitchen with the smell of coffee and breakfast surrounding him. He liked having her scent in his lungs and the taste of her in his mouth. He especially liked knowing her naked body, warm and soft, was wrapped in his shirt while she worked. He felt comfortable teasing her, and watching a blush steal up her neck and into her face.

"Did you think I was going to neglect you?" he persisted.

She narrowed her eyes. "Quit trying to distract me. I'm working here."

"I just wanted to make certain you know I'm not altogether a selfish bastard. Well, now that I say that, maybe it isn't true. Maybe I am. I like my mouth between your legs, taking all that sweet honey from you. It's mine, right? Belongs to me. A man ought to be able to harvest honey anytime he gets a notion if it belongs to him."

"I've got a knife in my hand," she reminded him. "And you're trying to embarrass me."

"Kitten," he said softly. "I'm doing a damn good job of it."

She laughed, and instantly the kitchen flooded with warmth. She didn't laugh that often, not like this, not for real and the sound felt a little like music.

"You are," she admitted. "I'm almost finished. The beignets are almost done and the omelets are perfect. I didn't have a lot to work with. We really need groceries, Eli, and I can do so much better."

She arranged his omelet and hash browns mixed with ham onto his plate and set it in front of him with his silverware. The way she arranged everything with such care made his heart melt around the edges. She liked taking care of him. He hadn't had anyone want to take care of him since his parents had died when he was a boy. She liked it. He could tell by the way she put a napkin out for him, checked his coffee and put the basket of fresh, hot beignets in front of him before she settled with her own food across from him.

"Never going to give you up, Catarina," he said firmly. "Not ever. I'm going to take such good care of you, you'll never want to leave me."

She sent him a small smile and pushed her hair out of her face, tossing the long strands over her shoulder in a purely feminine gesture. She was sexy without even trying. Still, she had an expression that told him she wasn't certain he meant what he was saying.

Eli leaned across the table toward her. "We're shifters, Cat. Shifters mate for life and beyond. It's said we find one another over and over, that sometimes we can even remember things about one another. Leopards smell lies and that makes it impossible for mates to lie or deceive one another."

She frowned. "Why didn't I know you were a cop?"

"Because your cat wasn't close enough to recognize mine. I didn't know you were leopard and you didn't know I was. But we're mates. You'll know. So will your leopard. I'm not telling you lies when I say I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Or the sexiest. Or that I want you every fucking time I lay eyes on you. Or when I tell you I'm never going to give you up."

Her eyes searched his for a long time. "Then I guess I made the right decision. I think you're so beautiful you take my breath away."

He tried not to let the sound of her voice and the way she said the words, the ring of absolute truth get to him--but it did. His heart turned over. His belly knotted and his cock was as hard as a damned rock. Love and lust mixed into some terrible combustible chemical, just waiting for a match. "Baby. Men aren't beautiful."

"You are. The way you move. Your eyes. Your mouth. Especially your voice." She sent him another small smile. "It doesn't hurt that you have a scorching-hot body and you know how to use it."

His eyes met hers. It was all he could do not to come over the table and drag her into his arms. He had the feeling that he was just getting in deeper and deeper with her. She wasn't ready yet. She needed a little space and she'd made that clear. He wanted to give it to her. He took a deep breath, lifted his fork and saluted her. "Kitten, you have to be the best cook I've ever been around. I watched you make this, saw every ingredient you put into it, but I've never had eggs like this. Not ever. You must be magic."

She looked pleased. "Wait until I actually have some spices and things to work with. I love this kitchen, Eli. It's beautiful."

"I'm glad. Anything you want different, let me know and I'll see what I can do about it. I told you, I'm no cook, but I can grill a mean steak." He forced himself to sound offhand. He didn't want to spook her, but he'd get her anything at all she asked him for. He'd pull down the damn moon for her if she asked him.

"That's good, because I don't always feel like cooking," she admitted, sneaking a little glance at him over her coffee.

Eli frowned. "You don't have to cook for me, Catarina. I didn't bring you here so you could wait on me. Any time you don't feel like cooking, just say so. I'll take a turn or we'll eat out."

"We can't eat out, Eli. Even you can't eat out." She raised her head, her blue eyes meeting his, anxious.

Eli liked that she looked alarmed. For him. Not for her. She was worried about him. "I'm not afraid of Cordeau, baby," he said softly.

She shook her head. "Eli, he'll know I'm with you by now, and the minute you surface somewhere, he'll find you," Catarina cautioned, carefully choosing her words, trying not to sound like she was challenging him. Or bossing him.

His heart turned over. He put his hand over hers, his thumb sliding along the bare skin of her inner wrist. "We're going to be ready for him. I don't intend for us to hide forever. Just long enough for your leopard to make her appearance, and for us to be ready."

Catarina tilted her head to one side and her long, gleaming hair fell around her shoulder and tumbled down her back making his cock jump. He loved that simple little gesture and she did it a lot when her hair was down. He liked her hair down.

"Just how does one get ready for a man like Rafe Cordeau?"

"In a fight, Kitten, sometimes it comes down to conditioning. I know that sounds simple, but whoever is in shape is sometimes the one left standing. So we're going to start training camp today. We'll run, work on the bags, kicking, punching, crunches, push-ups and the medicine ball. I want you shooting a gun every day and I've got a couple of practice knives we can use. You get hit with one, it raises a hell of a welt and you know you would have gotten cut."

"Sounds fun," she said, and took another sip of coffee.

His eyes narrowed on her face. "This isn't a game we're playing with Cordeau."

"I'm not complaining. I was already training," she pointed out. "It's just that, well, I can't see me besting Rafe at hand-to-hand combat."

Eli frowned. She'd grown up with Rafe being the sole authority around her. Everyone was afraid of the man. Everyone. Especially Catarina. To her, Cordeau was the ultimate, invincible monster. Eli hunted monsters, both human and shifter. He'd been doing it a long while, and the other shifters he knew had been doing it even longer.

"He isn't invincible, Cat. He's dangerous, but he isn't invincible. I've met quite a few men--and rogues--just like him. I'm still alive and they're not. I put the humans in cages if I can and the shifter into the ground because we can't afford a rogue loose on the world."

She dropped one hand under the table where he could see her anxiously rubbing her thigh with her palm. "I know you're all macho, Eli. I can even tell you know how to fight. But he's not right. He isn't. I never really wanted to look too closely because he's all I had, but there's something not right about him."

He knew what she meant. Rafe Cordeau was a sociopath, and it made it all the worse that he was a shifter. His leopard craved the hunt for humans and Cordeau gave that to him. He enjoyed the power of life and death over those around him. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for a young girl to grow up in Cordeau's house. Or the courage it had taken for her to leave.

"I'm truly sorry the bastards gave him your location, Cat. I didn't agree with the decision, but still, I was a part of it."

She shrugged. "I was too comfortable there. In the end I would have stayed too long, and I would have made a mistake. That's the worst part, figuring out when you have to make the move, after all the time and effort you put into a new life."

"Not here," he said. "Not now. This is going to be your home. Right here. My Cat's Lair. It's all yours, Catarina, so do whatever you want to it."

"You mean that, don't you?"

"I want a home. I figure you know what you're doing in that department a whole hell of a lot more than I do. And baby, working in the coffee-house, I don't care how loose you wore your clothes, every man for miles was already lining up trying to figure out how to get in your pants. With your face and body and all that hair, hell woman, men were leaving the bar early to come to the coffee-house just to see you. Most of them were jacking off in the restroom at the sound of your voice, and the image of you in their heads."

She gasped. "That is so not true. I was flying under the radar. And men don't see me like that."

"I'm a man, Kitten. What the hell do you think I was doing every night after leaving you?"


Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal