A Tiger's Bride (A Lion's Pride Book 4) (4 page)

Dmitri had made women swoon in the past.

For example, Petra, who belonged to his grandmother’s crib club, had hit the rug upon seeing him in all his glory. And he meant naked glory. Not intentionally, though. He’d gone for a run through the woods and returned to find the house servants had cleared his scattered clothes.

Apparently, gray hair and a few wrinkles didn’t mean the old ladies didn’t admire a man in his prime. But he could have done without the pinches by those who remained alert.

Dmitri had also made people faint with a simple, pointed glare. Those low on the totem of power never could handle his majestic stare of displeasure.

But Teena… Teena swooned from his kiss.

And she snored.

He didn’t know whether to roar and wake her up or keep staring in stunned disbelief.

Women didn’t succumb to boredom during his embraces. Especially not the woman meant for him.

A light shake didn’t rouse her. Her eyes remained shut, and her thick golden lashes, lightly coated with mascara, fluttered against her cheeks.

Now what?

He was at a complete loss as to what to do next. He couldn’t very well carry her to his room—with its bed and privacy and... He could just imagine the lynch mob if he did that, and with good reason, considering the debauchery that could happen.

Forget taking her to her room. Again, no one would ever believe he wouldn’t take advantage.

A bad-ass reputation was sometimes a hindrance.

What did that leave? He couldn’t simply abandon her here on the ground, at the mercy of anyone, alone and unguarded.

No one must touch. Guard our woman.
Even his tiger knew that was a bad idea.

Sigh. Only one thing to do, since kidnapping her was probably also out of the question—these lions were such spoilsports. He sat. Cross-legged on the ground, he draped her body across his lap and held her cradled. It was oddly intimate, even if he was the only one conscious for it.

It also didn’t go unnoticed.

Luna, wearing a suspicious scowl, soon confronted him.

“What the hell are you doing with my girl Teena?”

“Trying to be a gentleman, which I’ll admit is very taxing. I do not know how the heroic types do it all the time.” Keeping his hands to himself when so many curves beckoned took willpower.

Crouching down alongside him, Luna cocked her head before saying, “You’re a weird dude.”

“The correct term is noble
boyar
, or you could call me prince.”

She snickered. “Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting us to add charming and trying to convince Teena she’s your Snow White.”

“Do you think my kiss would wake her?” A proud kind of guy, he didn’t admit it was a kiss that had bored her to sleep in the first place.

“I don’t know, and I don’t think you should try.”

“Are you about to lecture me on staying away again?” He couldn’t help a roll of his eyes.

“No, I wasn’t going to tell you take a hike. Actually, I think you should stick around for a bit.”

Almost did Dmitri drop Teena, his shock was so great. “Stay? Why? So you can better plan how to cause my demise? Do you need time to fetch some rope and find a tree?”

“Oh, we don’t need time for that. Uncle Peter’s already got something all mapped out. Auntie’s roses will fetch a fine price this year if he goes through with it. But, no, that’s not why I think you should stay. If you’re truly serious about Teena—”

“I am.” Spoken with the utmost truth.

“Then you can prove it by dating her. You know, do things in a normal fashion. Show her family that she’s not just a set of hips. Give Teena the chance to really get to know you. If this is real and meant to be, then—”

“When I ask her to marry me, she shall agree, and I will have my bride.”

“If she agrees.”

“Oh, she’ll agree.” He knew it, didn’t harbor a single doubt, which was why he handed his lovely little kitten off to Luna and some other cousins, who promised to put her to bed. His utmost faith that she would fall madly in love with him was why he sent a text to his henchmen cancelling the plans he’d made during the ceremony to kidnap her.

Off to bed he went, pleased with himself, and the world. Even the guard outside his door couldn’t ruin his fine mood.

Guard me all you want. I’ll be here in the morning, wooing my bride.

Or at least, that was what he planned to do. Fate had other ideas. It seemed the ranch had sporadic cellular signal, which meant his last text never reached his men.

Awareness came with the speed of cold honey spooling from a dangling spoon. Slowly. So slowly, and that was why it took the third time for her to grasp someone spoke.

“Say I do.”

“Hunh?” Eyes closed, and the lids too heavy to lift, her mouth a fuzzy peach in need of water, Teena’s mind struggled to wake from the most molasses sleep ever.

“Say I do,” hissed an accented voice, a voice that seemed familiar. But it was the scent that made her smile. Manly musk intermixed with a spicy cologne. It seemed her Russian admirer was still at her side. Had she fallen asleep on him at the party?

It was so hard to remember.

“Repeat after me. I. Do.”

What did she do? Forcing her brain into gear, she strove to recall events. Last she remembered, she was weaving back to the house after her sister’s wedding—drunk as hell because she was so mad at her interfering family—when Dmitri, that sexy Russian, waylaid her. He’d made sure the ground didn’t get fresh with her body parts. Instead, he let them get fresh with his solid frame.

He held her in his arms. Said stuff. Nice stuff. But forget that and fast forward to the exciting part where he kissed her.

Oh my.
Upon her he bestowed a masterful kiss that melted her. She remembered the sense of weakness in her limbs. The roam of his hands, then…?

Her brow wrinkled. She couldn’t recollect anything past the amazing kiss.

Nothing. At all.

Had she seriously fallen asleep during the most intense embrace of her life?

Was this why Dmitri held her in his arms, his musky scent surrounding her? “Wake, little kitten. Just for a moment. I need you to say I do.”

“I do?” Do what? Surely he didn’t demand permission to kiss her again? Was he after something else? Blerg. She wished her brain wasn’t such a sluggish mess.

Giving her cobwebbed thoughts a mental shake, she pried her eyes open in time to see Dmitri’s handsome face hovering close to hers. She also heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

What!

Before she could grasp what had happened, lips pressed against hers in a molten touch that melted her questions and awakened a fire. The kiss didn’t help her regain her senses. On the contrary, she slipped into a pleasurable state with only one real thought in mind—more.

More kisses. More heat. More Dmitri.

The arms wrapped around her body held her upright and a good thing, too, seeing as how her legs had the consistency of soft rubber. A tiny part of her remarked she should protest, or at least make an effort to assert some kind of control.

She wasn’t firing on all cylinders. A sluggishness still held her. It occurred to her she should cry and be frightened, and yet…

She truly was enjoying the soft mesh of lips and the warmth of his breath. Or she was until she found herself deposited in a chair. Talk about a rude awakening.

Her body lamented the loss of the warmth from his while her inner lioness meowed in frustration. A frustration she understood all too well, given the ardor he woke refused to settle so easily.

Struggling against the lassitude in her body, she managed to flutter her eyes open, not that it helped her comprehension much. She didn’t recognize her surroundings.

A pen was pushed into her hands. “Sign here,” Dmitri’s accented voice purred in her ear.

“What is it?” she muttered through numb lips as she struggled to remain awake. She peered blearily at the white sheet in front of her, to no avail. The words on the paper wavered.

“It is what you want.”

Truly? Because…
I want him.

Without giving it a second thought, she signed.

Then he did too, using the same pen she had, his bold signature alongside hers on the marriage certificate.

Blink.

Re-read.

Nope, the words on the paper hadn’t change.

She stabbed a finger at the paper, not trusting herself to speak. But if she had, it might have sounded a lot like her father, but with fewer swear words.
What the fuck just happened?

He answered her unspoken question. “We are husband and wife, little kitten.”

Oh my.
How unexpected.

Married. She was married. To Dmitri.
I am married to the tiger.

Hunh, a coerced wedding, a first for the family and certainly never a disaster her sister had ever managed.

Point for me?

No, because Meena evaded Dmitri’s plans.

I, on the other hand, fell like a domino. Worse, I didn’t see it coming. I really thought he liked me.
Thought he’d meant it when he said he would woo her and prove his intent.

What a jerk, kidnapping her like this and marrying her on the sly. Making her his wife.

His wife?

Could a lioness giggle? Her inner feline certainly seemed a tad too pleased.

His mate.
The mental rumble vibrated through her body like a ghostly purr, one that left her senses alive.

Are you going to stand up and assert your rights?

“You can’t force me to marry you. Tell him.” She addressed the latter to the man dressed in a suit with a clerical collar of black and white, some kind of religious guy.  Surely he wouldn’t condone this farce. “Tell him it doesn’t count because I didn’t agree.”

“You said I do,” Dmitri reminded her.

“Because you told me to while I wasn’t even awake. It doesn’t count. And why is that priest ignoring me?”

“Little kitten, if you calm down, we can—”

“I will not calm down.” She lunged from the chair, only belatedly realizing the flimsiness of it.

The plastic bucket chair with its metal legs, a relic from the seventies, cracked. The hand she’d used to push off slid as the plastic snapped, and she lost her balance. Tipping sideways, she threw out her hand, but her reflexes were still kind of woozy and she missed, hitting the floor with her shoulder then a ricochet of her head. Damned industrial marble floor.

She lay there, at an angle, stunned, and also exposing a lot more leg than she should. Through squinted eyes, she noted her skirt riding high on her hip.

Dmitri noticed too. Interest smoldered in his gaze, a gaze stolen by the collared man, who cleared his throat.

How dare he steal Dmitri’s attention?

Grrrr.

Who growled?

“Now, now, little kitten, give me a moment to deal with this obviously brave man, daring your vicious rage.”

“I am not vicious.” Vicious was her sister.

“I think you’re tougher than you know.”

He’s right.

Pounce him and give him some licks.
Inner kitty just couldn’t keep her giant nose out of it. But she wasn’t alone in appreciating the compliment.

With a flourish, the marriage license was whisked away and sealed in a brown envelope.

“Make sure you file it today,” Dmitri ordered as he handed a wad of green bills to the priest. “I trust there is enough there to maintain your discretion.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with your family,” the man replied.

“Business? This is illegal,” she shouted, kind of annoyed at both of them for their blasé attitude.

“Women. You can’t live with them,” the collared man grumbled, “and you can’t kill them without doing time. And they wonder why I joined the church.”

“A man needs heirs, legal ones if he’s to leave behind a legacy.” Dmitri saw the man to a metal door and let him out.

It was then she noted it was the only door in the room, although the term
room
was being generous.

Getting to her feet gave a full perspective, not that there was truly much to see.

The gray walls screamed utility space, as did the scarred white table, orange smudges, black rings, and scratches forever ruining the pristine surface. Around the table was scattered an odd medley of chairs. As if regurgitated from the seventies, orange plastic bucket seats, mixed with some dark blue and a few lime green ones, were haphazardly scattered.

The one she’d broken lay in two pieces on the floor. It served as a reminder that even while sitting trouble couldn’t leave her alone.

While a part of her seemed to think she should lay her head down for a nap—yawn—she knew that wasn’t a good plan. Even her woozy thoughts recognized a few important facts.

One, alcohol hadn’t caused her slumber. She was drugged!

Two, she was freaking married.

And three, damn, those were some good drugs because, even though she should have been pissed with Dmitri, she just wanted to kiss him.

Get closer. Touch him. Rub against him. Mark him with our scent.

So insidious proved the purred thoughts that she took a step toward him. Only one, and then she froze with the reminder that kissing him was a bad idea.

Good girls behaved. Naughty boys didn’t.

And totally alpha male tigers thrived on doing the unbelievable.

Dmitri moved, and quickly, because, the next thing she knew, she was pressed against the front of him.

“Be angry, little kitten. I encourage you to rant and rave.”

Confused, she stared at him. “You want me to give you hell? You admit you were wrong?”

“No. I told you that you would be mine, and I kept my promise. But your anger is becoming. Did you know your eyes flash in the most provocative way? And your scent…” He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. When they reopened, they appeared to glow with the heat of his hunger.

She swallowed. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I wasn’t laughing.”

“Yet you’re acting so blasé about it all. You kidnapped me and then married me while I was practically still drooling with sleep.”

“You snore, not drool.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” she snapped, not happy that he pointed out an obvious flaw.

“It is cute. I, on the other hand, don’t snore.”

“Not information I need since we won’t be sleeping together.”

Her retort saw him chuckling. “You’re right. We won’t be getting much sleep.”

She didn’t need the wink to understand the innuendo. As his wife, she could take that next step. His hands gripped her waist, keeping her pressed against the hardness of his body, a torturous cushion for her hyper-aware senses.

“I will make a good husband.”

Startled by his announcement, her gaze met his, and her breath hitched. Those intense blue eyes never failed to capture her. Those lips tempted, especially now that she knew their taste, their feel, oh and let her not forget the delight.

A rumble shivered his frame. What perturbed him?

Apparently, she did.

“You must not eye me like that, little kitten. It makes a man want to risk his life and explore the temptation you offer in that gaze.”

“How is it risky? A kiss can’t kill.” Although a lack of one might cause her to self-combust.

“Risky because we don’t have time. We must move before those seeking us catch up.”

“Who’s after us?” she asked. Did Dmitri have enemies? As a mobster in his homeland, surely he had his fair share.

“Your family is on the prowl. Who else? Your father has eyes and ears everywhere. It is damned impressive. I shall have to interrogate him, um, I mean ask my new father-in-law how he does it at a later date. For the moment, I think it best we not step on that lion’s tail.”

“Scared of my daddy?” Yes, she totally smirked that sassy retort.

“No, just not keen to start my marriage off with the murder of your father. I can see that causing a small issue.”

“Small?”

He laughed. “You are right, little kitten. Even if I did kill your father, then you would still adore me madly. But no need to test that theory. We’ll leave on my jet as soon as it’s fueled.”

“We’re in an airport?” She cast her gaze around, looking for an indication of which airport. Any kind of escape was good. She couldn’t stay married to this madman—even if he had seductive blue eyes and dark charm.

“Us, in an airport? Nope.” He stretched the word and made an attempt to look innocent. It totally failed, given he was part devil. Not managing didn’t mean the attempted result wasn’t ridiculously distracting.

She pulled out of his arms, and he let her. She turned away.
Don’t let him suck you into his imaginary world where this kind of thing is normal.
Then again, hadn’t he admitted he took his actions from romance novels? Argh. She needed to stop finding the hot in his actions. Escape should remain her focus. “We are in an airport, which means, if I scream for help, someone will come.”

Way to give away your plan.
Did she want to fail? Did subconsciously she want to remain with Dmitri and see what would happen?

Duh.
It seemed her inner feline knew the score.

“I wouldn’t recommend drawing notice to yourself.”