Here There Be Tigers (15 page)

“
And his sons?”

“
They’re all still out
there.”

She pursed her lips and put her hands on her
hips. “Including Vlad?”

Mitch nodded. “I’m not sure what game he’s
playing, but he’ll be close to his father.”

“
I want to call my dad and grandma.
Will it be safe?”

“
Should be. Especially with the new
phone.” He didn’t think Petrov could actually track their cellphone
use, but like Nila's father, Mitch didn’t want to take chances.
Petrov did have some serious connections and resources. Mitch was
glad Leo had suggested getting the disposable cell.

She snatched up the phone and went onto the
porch to make her calls.

He was tempted beyond measure to go to her and
offer comfort, but he didn’t think she’d accept any from him at the
moment. Besides, if he took her into his arms now, he wasn’t sure
he’d be able to let her go, no matter the consequences.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Nila wandered onto the porch with a cup of tea,
breathed in the clean air, and listened to the quiet hum of a soft
breeze blowing through the trees. She leaned against the porch
railing, still trying to figure a way out of this mess. Even if she
refused to have children with a tiger, there was still the
possibility her kids would be capable of having children with a
tiger—if she carried the gene Anaya had—which meant, no matter who
she married, her future children would be in danger,
too.

She could always refuse to have kids, but then
she’d be allowing others to dictate what she did with her life. If
she was physically able to have kids, she wanted them. One day. She
didn’t want to throw that option away. She just didn’t want to be
forced into something she wasn’t ready for and with someone she
didn’t love.

A noise from behind the cabin caught her
attention and she straightened. Mitch had left after lunch, nearly
two hours ago, and she hadn’t so much as heard his footsteps since.
When he appeared around the side of the cabin, she caught her
breath. He was shirtless, carrying the t-shirt in one hand and
wearing only his jeans and boots. For the first time since they’d
met, she got a very good look at his muscled, bare chest and it was
all she could do not to drool.

He wasn’t bulky, but he was finely chiseled and
well proportioned. His shoulders were broad and strong looking, his
arms nicely muscled, his stomach rippled with a six pack. He was
sweating, the beads of perspiration dripping over his torso and
through the hair covering his chest and arrowing down his abdomen.
His face was flushed, his hair damp, his eyes sharp and
dangerous.

Life was just not fair, she decided. No man
should be allowed to look so good. Without meaning to, her
imagination taunted her with what he must look like naked and she
nearly dropped her mug. He paused on the porch beside her, forcing
her to take in his sexy male perfection up close.

“
Anything?” she asked, before she
attempted to wet her dry mouth with another sip of tea.

“
Still clear. The neighbors have
dogs. That’s a good thing. The dogs will pick up the scent of tiger
and alert us if any get near.”

“
The neighbors are six miles
away.”

He shrugged. “I’ll hear them.”

“
Wow. And I thought I had good
hearing.”

“
My hearing only works that well
outside the city,” he said with a smile.

The expression made her knees weak. This close,
his scent washed over her, and what should have been stinky male
sweat was having the same effect as deliciously scented cologne
usually had on her. Her heart beat rapidly, her breathing rushed in
and out of her lungs, her stomach danced, and her muscles clenched
in anticipation of a touch. The longer she stood there, the
stronger the effect grew until she could barely see straight. Lust,
need, desire, passion, whatever the hell this was, it was strong
enough to rob her of all sense.

“
I’m going to shower,” he finally
said, breaking the long silence.

She blinked, only then realizing how long she’d
been staring at him. She waited for the cabin door to close behind
him then allowed herself a sigh. He was pulling away from her, she
felt it, putting distance between them that wasn’t there before,
even when they barely knew each other. She should probably be
grateful for his actions. Sex would be an even bigger complication
than she’d originally thought. For both their sakes, keeping things
platonic was the wisest choice.

So why did she still want to throw caution to
the wind and go join him in the shower?

Three days of watching, three days of staring,
three days of smelling him and seeing him and hearing him, talking,
sometimes laughing, and mostly just being with him. Three days of
nothing to do but study his movements and anticipate the brief
moments of physical contact, a brush of his hand, an accidental
bumping of bodies in the small space. Three days of fantasies and
sleepless nights. Three days alone with Mitch, and Nila was ready
to burst.

Sometime over the previous days, she’d
forgotten why sleeping with him would be a bad idea, and when her
conscience tried reminding her she didn’t need the complication,
she ignored it. What the hell did her conscience know anyway? She’d
never denied her desires like this before, and the waiting and
anticipation were killing her.

To make matters worse, Mitch had been so damned
controlled. If he had to touch her, he did so respectfully and
quickly. He frequently cooked for her, because he claimed he liked
cooking, but he never got too close or lingered too long in her
company.

She was at the end of her rope.

Flopping onto her back in the bed on the fourth
sleepless night in a row, she decided enough was enough. She just
couldn’t take the tension anymore. If she didn’t at least talk to
him about this desire between them, she was going to
scream.

Once the decision had been made, however, she
found herself hesitating at the bedroom door, listening for
movement from the main room. It had to be past midnight. He was
bound to be asleep. He wouldn’t thank her for waking him when he
got so little sleep as it was. Even for what she intended. She
remained where she was for several minutes, trying to talk herself
into going back to bed.

When that didn’t work, she opened the door,
promising herself that if he was asleep, she wouldn’t wake him. On
quiet feet, she crossed the wooden floor to the couch. She was
about to lean over and check on him when his eyes popped open. The
suddenness of his actions made her straighten with a
gasp.

“
Is everything okay?” he asked,
sitting up.

His lower body was covered by a sheet, but his
upper body was bare and beautifully displayed in the faint
moonlight drifting in through the cabin’s front windows. She tried
speaking, but for a long moment, all she could do was
stare.

Finally, she said, “Nothing’s wrong. Exactly.
But…” But he was gorgeous and frowning with concern. His mouth was
just too perfectly made for kissing, and she couldn’t stand the
tension any more.

Without a word, she straddled his lap, braced
her hands on his shoulders, leaned in close, and kissed him. For a
painfully long moment, he didn’t react. He remained perfectly
still, his hands pressed into the couch behind him, his mouth
motionless, his muscles tense beneath her touch. She softened her
lips against his, allowing herself a brief moment of bliss before
embarrassment made her pull away.

Before she could, though, Mitch flew into
motion. His mouth opened against hers, his arms came up to circle
her waist, tightening her against his chest, and his tongue delved
between her lips, turning the kiss into something serious and
molten hot. She clung to him then, answering the sudden onslaught
of passion with relief and need and desperation. She wiggled
closer, swallowing his groan as she devoured him. He tasted so
good, felt so wonderful. The frustration she’d been feeling before
was nothing to the passion she felt then, the thought that if she
didn’t get her pajama bottoms off and get his cock inside her in
the next few minutes, she might not survive.

Rubbing her pajama-covered breasts against his
bare chest was both torture and triumph. But the barrier was too
much. She released her hard hold on his shoulders long enough to
shrug out of her top. She pulled her mouth from his to jerk the
shirt over her head and before she’d finished, his lips closed over
her nipple. Moaning, she flung the shirt aside and gripped his
head, holding him close to her breast as he sucked the sensitive
flesh. She dropped her head back and ground herself more firmly
against his erection. There was still too much material between
them, but she wasn’t ready for him to stop his delicious assault on
her breasts.

He scrapped his teeth over her nipple none too
gently, then swirled his tongue around the area to sooth the burn.
Leaving one breast, he moved to the other, once again sucking and
teasing her until she groaned, fisting her hands in his
hair.

“
Yes,” she murmured, not even sure
if she spoke aloud. “More.”

He answered by tightening his grip on her waist
and sucking her harder, sending delirious jolts of lust right to
her core. She was wet and ready, and a little worried she’d come
just from his mouth on her breasts. But she could have more than
one orgasm in a row and she intended on having as many as Mitch
would allow her tonight.

When his lips left her breast, she brought her
head forward, intent on capturing his mouth with hers again. Before
she knew what was happening, though, he’d lifted her off his lap
and set her on her feet beside the couch. Blinking in surprise, she
waited for him to rise and join her, assuming he wanted to move
this to the comfort of the bed. But he didn’t move. He sat
perfectly still, breathing hard, staring up at her.

“
What’s wrong?” she
asked.

“
We can’t do this.”

“
Why not?”

“
You are not mine to take,” he
murmured.

The statement made her frown.

Before she could ask what the hell he meant, he
said, “I can’t do this. Not with you.”

“
What’s wrong with me?”

“
Nothing,” he said with a great deal
of feeling. “Nothing is wrong with you. I just can’t.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, until she
was certain he was serious. When she realized he was, a knot
settled in her chest. She swallowed hard, nodded, and returned to
the bedroom, walking with as much dignity as she could muster given
how devastated she was by his rejection. She gave a passing thought
to collecting her pajama shirt but decided against going back. She
needed to get away from him before he saw her hurt.

In her adult life, she’d rarely worried about
rejection. She only ever made a move on a man she knew wanted her
in return. Mitch’s rejection brought up feelings of insecurity and
inadequacy she’d thought long set aside. She’d been too different
looking, too unique in school to be considered pretty. Her strong
senses and strength got her labeled weird early on and that label
followed her through high school, no matter what she did, making
dating even more impossible.

But when she got to college, she discovered
unique had its advantages and strength was admired. Many men
actually loved the blend of Indian and Italian that made up her
heritage and formed her features. She’d come into her own in her
early twenties and had never looked back.

Or so she thought. Having a man like Mitch, a
man she’d thought wanted her, turn her away pricked her
self-assurance and hurt far more than a simple rejection should
have. As she closed the bedroom door, she assured herself it was
only her pride that hurt so much. Pride and maybe vanity. This had
nothing to do with deeper emotions.

She walked the few paces to the edge of the bed
before she stopped and simply stood there, staring at nothing. She
wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t. Lust was simple and easy, and
if the person she was lusting after didn’t want her as much as she
wanted him, so be it. There were reasons she’d been trying not to
sleep with him anyway, though she couldn’t think of any at that
moment. She was sure by morning, she’d remember why this was a
foolish decision and be glad he’d put on the brakes.

Her oddly strong reaction to him was probably
just a result of their situation and the danger she was in anyway.
Once Petrov was caught, she still had to face an uncertain future.
She couldn’t blame Mitch for not wanting to get mixed up with
her.

She was still standing by the bed when the door
burst open behind her, slamming loudly against the wall. With a
screech, she spun to face the intruder. Mitch stood framed in the
doorway looking dangerous and intense. A shiver of something close
to fear tickled her spine.

In three strides, he closed the space between
them, took her face in his hands and muttered, “Fuck the
consequences.”

Then he was kissing her, hard and hungry and
desperate.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

He couldn’t taste her enough, feel her enough.
His hands actually shook as he stroked down her neck and over her
shoulders, taking her breast in one hand and wrapping the other
around her waist to hold her as tightly to his body as he could get
her. She tasted like paradise and promise and need. Her desire
drove him completely out of his mind.