"I hate to tell you this, Jonas, but you're not that far from your father in genetics," she informed him. "The two of you are more alike than he and Callan are. You even have several of your mother's physical traits, such as the shape of your eyes."
His expression darkened. "Elizabeth isn't my mother. My dam was the Scientist LaRue, who headed the French labs where I was created. I share no genetics with Elizabeth Vanderale."
He was lying to her. Rachel sat up, turned and stared down at him. There was no mistaking the fact that Elizabeth Vanderale was his mother. Many of Jonas's actions mirrored hers, such as his habit of rubbing his neck when he was agitated, or the way he narrowed his eyes. She had seen the woman display those gestures many times over the past months.
Lies and deceit were things Rachel absolutely refused to tolerate. There was no way in hell she would stand back and allow Jonas to practice his less desirable traits against her as he often did in the political circles he moved within.
"Look, I don't know what you think this mating is going to be, Jonas Wyatt, but it will include not lying to me. And don't think I haven't learned by now exactly how to tell when you're lying. Let me guess: Elizabeth Vanderale isn't supposed to be your mother, so you've simply never informed her that she is?"
His jaw tightened. Whatever emotion he was trying to hide from her, whatever knowledge he wanted to keep hidden, was obviously something he had fought to keep to himself.
"How do you know I'm lying to you?" He gazed back at her with an almost innocent charm. It was so obviously feigned that she nearly laughed.
She rolled her eyes. "For some reason my female intuition kicks in. When you lie, it feels like the edges of a panic attack."
If there was one person she thought would understand that, she knew it would be Jonas.
He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling as though that knowledge was an irritant. "Just what I need, a mate who knows how to listen to her instincts."
Rachel gave a light laugh before she moved from the bed, drawing the sheet with her and wrapping it around her.
"The fire is going out. It will be getting chilly soon," she told him as she glanced to the window, where dawn was just breaking over the horizon. "And Amber will be up at any time. Would you listen for her while I shower?"
Jonas watched as she moved from the bedroom into the bathroom, a frown brewing on his brow as he finally figured out what it was that seemed off.
Rachel carried his scent now. He could detect the hormone fusing to her system from the bite he'd given her the night before. He could detect a natural, subtle allure to her. But, she wasn't burning for sex as other mates did. She wasn't close to begging, and it had been six hours at the very least since he'd taken her.
The fire shimmered inside her. She was aroused. He could smell that hunger simmering in the sweet recess of her pussy. But she was controlling it rather than it controlling her as it blazed out of control.
Lying there, he tried to feel the burning, agonizing arousal that he knew affected mates for the few months of mating unless conception occurred. Or unless Ely was able to find the required hormonal dosage for the females to aid in relieving the symptoms.
It was limited, he realized as he rose from the bed and quickly dressed. He was aroused. His cock was as hard this morning as it had been the night before. The need to take her, to spill himself inside her, was still there. But it was no longer agonizing. It was no longer so painful he felt as though he were losing his mind.
Rubbing the underside of his tongue against his teeth, he felt the minor swelling in the glands. The hormone was there, ready to release into her system once again. The glands weren't overenlarged, though neither were they burning as though fevered.
Moving to the living room, he fixed the baby's bottle, then moved to her crib to change her diaper and prepare her for her breakfast.
A small grin tugged at his lips as he met her green gaze and a wide smile split her lips.
"Hey there, little one," he whispered as he moved closer and began the process of diapering her. "Waiting on me, were you?"
It had become his practice to get up before Rachel. He often used those spare moments to play with the baby where no one could see, and to develop the bond he knew would stay with them for a lifetime.
She cooed up at him, which instantly melted his heart even though he attempted to steel himself against it. This tiny little girl, so vulnerable, had the ability to make him question himself and how his actions would be seen by her as she grew older.
Her mother knew him, perhaps in ways he didn't know himself, he thought. She was definitely stronger than he had imagined. He had expected her to be shocked, horrified, at the knowledge of the child she could conceive. Instead, she had calmly disagreed with his knowledge of what their future could hold, and calmed his fears as well.
Could it be so
simple? he wondered. That a child of his could be more than a killer? That there was a chance he could raise it to value life as Jonas attempted to?
Fixing Amber's clothes, he had to grin again as her tiny foot kicked against his hand, her little arms waving in excitement. She knew it was time for him to pick her up, to cuddle her against him, and she was demanding that he hurry.
"You're going to kick ass," he told her as he lifted her from her crib moments later and gave her the bottle. "I can see it now. With an auntie like Diana, all that red hair, and me for a daddy, you won't have a choice."
He would have to teach her to protect herself. The Breeds' world wasn't one where safety was the norm. Danger was the norm, and all their children had to be prepared for it, even those who hadn't been born with Breed DNA.
Sitting in a nearby chair, he rested the child against his chest and held the bottle comfortably to her ready lips as he gazed down at her. She looked like her mother. There was nothing of her father in her. Not in looks, nor in scent.