She was . . . cherished. Yes. She was. No matter what his friends might say about her!
The man had kissed and touched her, and he’d done it with unabashed relish, intense need, and a hint of joy. She had loved every second and had only craved more. Nothing he’d done had scared her. Everything had excited her, softened her.
I’m so glad I waited for him.
Was that the way making love was for everyone?
No. No way. The things she’d witnessed throughout the years had confirmed the opposite. Sex could be violent, explosive, angry, or laughing, fun, and seemingly carefree. But tender? No, she’d never witnessed that. What she and Solo had done was special, and she would hold the memory in her heart for all of eternity.
A movement outside claimed her focus.
Heart picking up speed, she abandoned her soup to race around the kitchen counter and press her nose against the window glass. Roughly forty yards away, a gorgeous white tiger prowled from one patch of trees to another, leaving a ruby line in his wake.
Ruby . . . blood? Was he injured?
Had to be. Only desperation for help would have brought him so close to human life.
But . . . she shouldn’t help him. She wasn’t foolish. Well, not all the time. She knew he was a wild animal, unlike her tame, fun-loving Dobi with the marking problem. She suspected he would bite her head off if given half a chance. Or even one-third of a chance. Fine, even if she failed to offer him any kind of chance. But . . . she couldn’t leave him out there, injured, without at least trying to aid him.
I know what you’re thinking, X suddenly said, appearing on her shoulder. And it would be my pleasure to help you. I can prevent the beast from attacking you.
“Really?”
Yes, really. But first, I want to show you something. It’s the reason I came, and I might be too weak after we help your little friend out there to show you later. He flattened his tiny hand on her nape, and pictures of Solo’s life began to flash through her mind.
Solo—a little boy only his parents had loved.
Solo—a kid no one had wanted to hang around.
Solo—a teenager the girls had laughed at. He’d never even been on a genuine date. The only girl he’d liked had used him for her own selfish needs.
Solo—a man only the most depraved of women had desired.
“You’re ugly,” a thousand people had said to him.
“You’re disgusting,” a thousand more had said.
Solo—a warrior who had decided to spend the rest of his life alone. That way, no one else could hurt him.
Oh, the pain this man had endured . . . so like her own. How dare anyone treat him so poorly? While she had deserved the hatred thrust at her, he had not. And how, how, how had he survived the circus? How could she have left him in that cage, time and time again?
Tears trickled down her cheeks.
I didn’t show his past so that you would pity him or even feel guilty, X said, but so that you would understand him a little better.
“He really is wonderful, isn’t he?”
He is. Now tend to the tiger before Solo wakes up and decides to stop you.
“You’re helping me. He won’t mind at all.”
And you are too innocent for words. Go!
As quietly as possible Vika tiptoed into the bathroom. It was the largest one she’d ever been in, triple the size of the one in her trailer and almost as large as the bedroom itself, with calming blue walls and a sink in the shape of a seashell. She stuffed the supplies she would need inside a basket she’d found in the living room—and there was plenty to choose from! She’d never seen so many bandages and medications.
Clearly, Michael was a man who liked to be prepared for anything.
As she tiptoed out, she kept her gaze on Solo. He was utterly still, his chest barely even rising as he breathed. His thick lashes were spiked, curling up at the edges, and his lips were parted, relaxed. He looked so wonderfully boyish.
A warm sense of contentment filled her, practically busting her skin at the seams. I don’t want to be without him, she realized. Ever. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go.
How did he feel about her? Truly feel? He desired her, yes. And he’d asked her to live on his farm. But how did he actually feel? How would he feel when all of the danger had passed?
Worry and wrinkle and rot, she reminded herself, swallowing back a sigh.
Hinges squeaked as she opened the door to the backyard, and she cringed. But Solo didn’t shout or come running so she continued on. The tiger was still there, still prowling—still bleeding.
“How are you going to calm him?” she asked X.
I have my ways.
They were several yards apart, but she could see that the blood flowed from the tiger’s front left leg. He’d stepped into some sort of trap, she would bet, for the skin and muscle had been punctured in three separate places.
Slowly she approached, X directing her steps. Cold air slapped at her, stinging. The tiger caught sight of her, blue eyes locking on her, and he stopped. One step, two, she continued her journey. His lips pulled back and he bared his saber teeth—long, sharp, deadly.
“Uh, X?” She considered dropping her basket and running.
I’ve got this.
The tiger crouched, as though ready to leap at her and feast on her bones. Her steps faltered.
He’s not going to leap. Now, move three inches to the left. Good. Now hop and angle toward the right.
Again she obeyed. “Why am I walking like this, anyway?”
To avoid security. Now, take a giant step forward, as if you’re stepping over a fallen tree. Good, now stop. Give me just a moment. With that, the being vanished.
He never appeared on or even near the tiger (to her knowledge), but suddenly the creature dropped to the snow-laden ground. He pushed out a heavy breath.
He’s all yours, X said, once again on her shoulder.
Vika closed the rest of the distance with much surer steps. She knelt beside the magnificent beast and scratched him behind the ears. “I’ll make you feel better,” she said. And, now used to Solo, added, “I vow it.”
Pain-filled blue eyes watched her warily. She would not fail this creature.
Working swiftly yet gently, she cleaned each of the punctures.
Not many people would have come out here, X said.
“I couldn’t leave him.”
I like that about you.
“Thank you.”
You’re exactly what Solo has always needed.
A small thrill lit her up inside. “What was he like as a child? Other than what you showed me, I mean.”
A fond chuckle. He was the sweetest little boy ever created, following his mother around, always making her gifts.