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Authors: Crystal Jordan

Prowl the Night (18 page)

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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And no matter how loudly her instincts howled at her, those secrets were what would keep her from mating with anyone.
Ever.
 
Something had made her sad.
Rafe could sense her lowering mood, but he didn't know what had caused it. And he wasn't in a position to be able to ask outright. Frustration crawled through him that he couldn't delve deeper, faster. Patience was usually one of his strong suits, knowing a good story would come to him if he could school himself to wait. But he didn't want to do that with Teresa. He found himself wanting to pounce, to take and claim and ask questions later.
It was nothing like him, and that worried him.
What worried him more was the forceful reminder of exactly who and what she was when he'd walked in and seen her coolly eyeing Antonio Cruz. The man had the charisma of John F. Kennedy and the iron will it would take to overhaul the world as they knew it. He was a force of nature, and seeing her with him brought home exactly the kind of person he was dealing with.
The cell phone he had clipped to his belt began vibrating, and he set down his coffee so he could turn it off. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Antonio motioned with the curl of cinnamon bun he held in his hand.
Rafe flashed an apologetic grin and glanced down. The number belonged to one of his editors. Damn. “And now I'm even sorrier, because I need to take this call.”
“Interruptions are the name of the game in our line of work, Rafe.” The Pride leader shrugged. “Don't worry about it.”
“Hello, Kevin.” Stepping outside the office door, Rafe closed it behind him.
“Santiago, good. I'm glad I caught you.” The man's characteristic clipped New York accent broadcasted loudly through the receiver. “I had a last-minute cancellation, and I need someone to cover a travel writing conference for the magazine.”
“Where?” He asked it out of sheer curiosity—he couldn't help himself.
“Barcelona.”
It took all he had not to laugh. Normally, he'd be all over this kind of assignment, but everything he wanted in Spain was right here in San Francisco. “Sorry, Kevin. You know I'm taking some time off to stay at home.”
“Yeah, I figured.” The human sighed. “Couldn't hurt to ask, though, right?”
“Nope, not at all.” He shook his head at the irony of the situation. “Thanks for thinking of me, Kevin. Sorry I couldn't come through for you this time.”
“Enjoy your vacation. Or whatever you call it.” Kevin chuckled, and Rafe grinned. Most people traveled to go on vacation, and Rafe went home.
Even then, he had to wonder if this place was really home. He hadn't lived there full-time in close to two decades, and he doubted he'd return as often as he did if it weren't for Ben being here. Was this really where Rafe belonged? Perhaps. Perhaps not. This thing with Teresa pointed toward the latter. Would that shake the restlessness that had plagued him for so long? Or would it cost him far more than he could afford to give up?
He didn't know, and he was too tired to figure it out. The fatigue that meeting his mate had held at bay caught up with him in a painful rush.
“Talk to you later, Kevin.” He flipped the phone closed and turned to reenter Antonio's office only to find Teresa exiting.
She looked as haggard as he felt. Unlike him, she had to attend the summit that started at dusk, while he could sleep in. He attached his phone to his belt. “Hey, what are you up to?”
“Apparently, I passed inspection.” She spread her hands. “I called my father when we were taxiing on the runway after I landed, but I should probably update him about how things went with Antonio.” The prospect seemed to exhaust her, and her shoulders sagged for a moment before she pulled herself up and lifted her chin.
He hummed in his throat and walked with her as she headed up the stairs. “You could probably use sleep more than anything else. I'd imagine you're dealing with some killer jet lag.”
“I can sleep as soon as I'm done.”
They reached the door to her room and he stopped to look down at her. “How long do you think the call will take?”
The skin around her mouth tightened. “An hour. Maybe more.”
He shook his head. “That's no good. You need to be rested for tonight. Everyone who'll be there besides Antonio is already asleep. You're going to need your A-game with these Panther delegates. The ones I've met are man-eaters.”
She rubbed a hand over her forehead, the motion both weary and annoyed. “I know that.”
“I'll worry about you if you don't go to bed soon.” He had no idea if that would affect her at all, but it didn't hurt to try. It wasn't even a lie. He
would
worry about her. Just leaving her alone to face Antonio—a man he trusted—had worried him. These were some heavy hitters she was dealing with, and she didn't seem like the type to take her duties lightly. In fact, from what he'd seen, she was far too serious. He'd like to see her laugh more, but this was no laughing matter. Panthers made human politicians look like amateurs in their games of cat and mouse.
“I—I don't know what to say.” Her expression softened, and she blushed a little, rubbing a finger over the bridge of her nose.
“You can say you'll wait to call until after you've gotten at least six hours of sleep. Or as long as you can.”
“I really should call.”
Just as he'd suspected. She had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. He narrowed his gaze at her. If sympathy didn't work, glib sarcasm was always a good fallback.
“Well, you can use me as an excuse for why you didn't call a
second
time to let them know you're fine.” He grinned at her when she lowered her hand to give him an incredulous look.
“You think we should be sleeping together?” She shook her head. “I told you I don't want—”
“And I heard you.” He steered her into her suite, through the sitting room to the bedroom. “I'm talking about getting some sleep, not marking each other.”
She frowned up at him as he lifted her out of her heels. “That's a bad idea.”
“Well, I'm open to marking, if that's your preference for how to pass the time.” When she hissed at him, he smiled at her, stripped her down to her panties, and set her in the middle of the bed.
Opening her mouth to speak, she froze in place and stared at him as he shucked his shoes, shirt, and pants. No,
stared
wasn't the right word. She
devoured
him with her eyes, that pale gray gaze roving over every inch of his bared flesh. Whether she wanted to mate with him or not, she definitely wanted him. His cock went hard in an instant, his body more than ready to satisfy the interest on her face.
He crawled onto the mattress beside her but refused to let himself touch her. Covering his erection with the thick bedspread, he turned on his side and propped his head in his hand. She eyed him warily. “What are you doing?”
“Sleeping. That's what I said I was going to do, and that's what I'm doing. Someday you'll trust me when I say something, but we have time for that.” He ignored her low snarl, settled against the pillows, and closed his eyes. “I'd probably sleep better if you were in my arms, but that's up to you.”
There was a long pause while she fidgeted next to him, then she lifted the covers to slide under. A few minutes later, her warm body fitted against his side, her arm draping over his chest. “This doesn't mean anything.”
“Yes, it does.” He opened his eyes to meet her pale gaze.
She wrinkled her nose, and her claws lightly raked down his ribs. “Yes, it does.”
He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you like me.”
Snorting on a laugh, she dug her talons in and made him jolt away from the sting. “Don't let it go to your head.”
His reflexive movement brought him into fuller contact with her half-naked body. He bit back a groan at how good it felt.
“Wouldn't dream of it.” He stroked her hair back from her face, drifting his fingers through the silky strands. “I want you to know, I'm not going to try and force the mating issue. Yeah, I want to get to know you, want to know why destiny says we're mates. But I'm really not going to tell anyone about us, not going to help anyone pressure you. We don't know each other yet, but you
can
trust me.”
“Thank you.” Her lashes brushed his chest as her eyes fluttered closed. “I don't have a choice except to believe in you for this, but . . . I do anyway. For no good reason, I do anyway.”
Being mates was a good reason, but he didn't point it out as she slipped into sleep. She snuggled into him, the innocent trust in the gesture more revealing than she probably wanted. Far more revealing than her words had been.
He shifted around on the bed, and she rolled with him until her back was to his front. He wrapped her in his embrace, and the floral scent of her hair filled his nose. The sweetness of having her smooth skin against his went beyond a mere physical touch. It was something deeper, something far more fundamental to his well-being.
But the nagging thought came back to him . . . what would it cost him to win her?
She was an heir, and his career made him a political anomaly. Panthers didn't like those, but he'd gotten away with it because he had no political power at all. He wasn't in line for leadership. His family had never had any real influence in the Pride—his parents had met and mated very late in life. Their advanced age made his birth nothing short of miraculous, but it meant he'd lost his parents to old age when he was in his last year of high school. He'd been drifting ever since. Entering another Pride's territory was tricky to get approved under any circumstances, and if he were in a leading family? Doubtful.
So, the question became what was more important to him—his career or claiming his mate? She didn't want to mate, so the second option was not only viable, but easy.
Unfortunately, he'd never been one to take the easy route. His work involved long hours of hiking through inhospitable territory, being harassed by locals, struggling with foreign languages, and occasionally doing something dangerous and stupid for the thrill of it. Swimming with great white sharks off the coast of South Africa was one such particularly brilliant idea, especially when one had tried to bite him. His Panther speed had been all that had saved his left arm, because even his advanced strength was nothing compared to one of those finned beasts.
He hadn't done anything that death-defying in years, but he still liked the thrill of ice climbing and BASE jumping. The Cruz twins had gone with him on a few of the trips he'd taken in North America.
Would he have to stop that kind of travel, except in Europe? He'd restricted himself to Africa for years, but the kind of writing people did about Europe was much different. It would mean a big switch in his career, regardless. His chest tightened, but change was something he dealt with every day. He was as much writer as traveler—could he focus on the first and tone down the second?
Hell, he didn't know. He thought if the reward was big enough, he might be able to, but he'd expected that the decision to stop his extensive traveling would be made when he was around the age of retirement. He wasn't even forty yet, and with the excellent health being a Panther ensured him, he was a long time away from that.
A soft purr soughed out of Teresa, and she mumbled in her sleep, cuddling into him. The tightness in his chest loosened and he curled his arm around her, holding her nearer. Something close to wonder unfurled inside him. A mate. He'd honestly never thought he'd find one. He was thirty-seven and he'd been to all the Prides at least once, even if he hadn't done the usual mate-seeking tour, so he'd just assumed he'd spend his life alone. Or as alone as anyone could be who made his living talking to exotic people and writing about the often-hilarious and sometimes dangerous adventures that ensued.
But this? This was an adventure that would never come around again. If he walked away, if he took the simple escape she'd already offered him, he might regret it for the rest of his life. And he'd never been one to collect regrets. Life was for living, not for hiding from fate.
Wherever fate led him, he'd go along. He was too damn curious not to find out what might happen next in this story. The thought made him grin, and he sighed, letting sleep take him as swiftly as it had taken her.
4
H
is fingers were buried deep in her sex when she woke up. Her nipples were tight, her pussy so wet she whimpered before she opened her eyes. His arms held her back tight to his chest, but she twisted around as best she could to look at him.
Only to find that he was still deep in slumber.
She snorted, dropping her head onto the pillow.
Madras,
the man was seducing her in his sleep. If she weren't so painfully aroused, it might have been funny.
“Rafe,” she breathed.
He groaned, his hand moving within her. She couldn't hold back a hiss, arching her hips to get more friction on her clit. Any resistance, any rational part of her that might think this was a bad idea, was shredded by the insistent demand of her hormones.
She felt him jolt to awareness, and he sucked in a startled breath. His big body froze against her back. “Um . . .”
“Good morning.” Her voice was remarkably even, which she was a bit proud of, until he twitched his fingers inside of her and made her moan.
“You're wet,” he growled. He ran his thumb over her clit and she clutched at the sheet wrapped around them. One of his arms was trapped underneath her, and it flexed each time his hand delved into her pussy.
She gritted her teeth, only to find her fangs had extended from her gums. “I thought you were only here to sleep.”
“I was. I slept. You slept. Now we can try something new.” His top hand tugged the sheet away, and the cool air made her shiver, her nipples peaking tighter.
Grabbing his free hand, she dragged it to her breast and curled his fingers around her curves. “Try this while you're at it.”
He laughed. “Damn, but I do like you, Teresa.”
She liked him too. Liked the way he'd cared that she got the sleep she desperately needed, liked that he'd worried about her enough to find a way into Antonio's office to check on her, liked that he'd addressed her concerns about their relationship being exposed, liked that he even knew she needed the reassurance. He was doing everything right, and he wasn't even trying.
And she more than liked the way he touched her. Which was far more than she should. How long could she keep this up before she gave in to the instinct to mark him? It was madness, how she craved a man she barely knew.
He plucked at her nipples, one at a time, twisted them with slow precision that made her squirm. More fluids surged from her sex and he purred, sliding his fingers in and out of her channel, slipping her moisture up to swirl around her clit, and then reversing the hot circuit.
“Oh, God,” she breathed. Her claws raked down the mattress in front of her when he thrust three big fingers inside of her. “Fuck me. Right now. I want you inside of me.”
He jerked his hand away from her sex and used it to shove her top leg forward. She arched her body, lifting her hips to open herself to his penetration. She felt the blunt probing of his cock and then the exquisite pressure of him working his long length inside of her.
A rough sound burst out of him when her pussy spasmed around his dick. “Damn, you feel good.”
“Hurry.” She shoved her hips back, taking him as deep as possible.
He used the fingers on one hand to tease her nipple, and the other circled her clit while he thrust his cock into her. The rhythm was just fast enough to have her on the screaming edge, but not fast enough to allow her to fly over. The pleasure of it was so white-hot, she thought she'd burn. He touched her everywhere she wanted to be touched, fed her every craving.
The way he filled her made her writhe to get closer, to get more. He pinched her nipple hard, and she hissed. Her fangs scraped her lower lip, but his every stroke within her only frayed the tethers she had on the wildness inside.
“How do you want to come, Teresa? Hard and fast?” He flicked her clit just that way, and every muscle in her body jolted. His chuckle sounded more like a purr. “Or do you want me to make it last for you? Tease you until you can't stand it anymore?”

Dios,
you want me to
decide?
” She choked as the tip of one of his claws teased her clit oh-so-gently.
“Mmm-hmm.” He nipped at her shoulder but didn't bite her. Still, the Panther within her writhed in excitement at the very possibility.
Two of his claws scraped over her wet, sensitive flesh and she cried out. “Fast. Hard. That's . . . that's how I want it.”
“See? That wasn't such a difficult decision, was it?”
As a response, she swung an elbow back and caught him in the belly. His breath whooshed out, but he sputtered on a laugh. She snorted and then couldn't help the giggle that burst out. When was the last time she'd laughed during sex? Playful wasn't normally her way, but she had to admit she enjoyed it.
His pelvis slapped her ass as he powered into her pussy. The swiftness of it caught her off-guard, left her gasping at the intensity of the way he filled her to the limit. She wrapped her hand around his forearm, holding on for dear life as he picked up speed and force, giving her exactly what she'd asked for.
“Yes, yes, yes!” She moved with him, taking all of him. Her inner muscles flexed around him with each hard entry, and she could feel orgasm building.
It was too good to last, ecstasy this perfect.
And that was the worst knowledge in the world; it flayed at her soul. She couldn't keep this. Sadness swamped her soul, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. She barely knew this man, and she couldn't let herself get to know him. The instincts that rode her like the devil himself would make it far too easy to give everything without thought to cost or consequences. Those impulses went against everything she was as a person—meticulous and in control.
His claws raked over her nipples one at a time, and the sting was as sweet as the pleasure, each of them feeding the other. He snarled when her pussy spasmed around him. “Are you close?”
She nodded, unable to trust her voice. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she could feel his chest bellowing as he panted. Sweat trickled down their skin, and the bedsprings squeaked underneath them. The sound of their flesh slapping together when he thrust into her, their mingling cries and groans, all combined in a carnal symphony that drove her higher and higher. Any moment, she would fall.
Reaching back, she grabbed his ass, urging him faster. He complied, racing her for orgasm. “Teresa!”
Her name on his lips, the sound half guttural demand and half reverent prayer, was enough to break her. She screamed, slamming her hips back to meet his next thrust and everything inside her shattered into a million little pieces. Her sex pulsed in waves on his cock, and his continued strokes only pushed her orgasm onward, kept her channel flexing around him.
Digging her claws into his arm, she tried to keep from sobbing at the endless ecstasy. “Come with me, Rafe.”
He groaned, his strokes faltering. Then he pushed inside her once, twice, three more times before he shuddered against her. His come pumped inside of her, flooding her sex.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they came down from the high. She sighed and let her eyes drift shut while she enjoyed the feel of being in his embrace. She shouldn't let herself linger, shouldn't even admit how much she liked it. Just another few minutes, she promised herself. Then she'd get up and walk away. Then she'd get on with the work of the summit.
Anxiety and anticipation fluttered through her. There was so much riding on how well she did at this political meeting of minds. These were the most powerful people in her world, and she had to prove she was their equal, without any support from her family. Her father should be here. Hell, her brother should be here. This was supposed to be his destiny, not hers.
She pinched her eyes closed tighter and pushed away thoughts of her family. Father had empowered her to make decisions here, and he trusted her not to let him down, not to let the entire Pride down. This was what she needed to focus on, not having wild sex with a virtual stranger. It didn't matter that the stranger in question was her mate, or that she found him irresistibly attractive, or that he seemed genuinely concerned about her in a way no one had been since she was thrust into her brother's place as heir.
“I have to get ready and go downstairs.” She tugged at his arms.
“I know.” He kissed her shoulder and let her up, no fighting with her, no annoyance over her work interrupting their postcoital cuddling.
She liked that, as she liked so much about him. Which was something she shouldn't think about. She'd made her decision about mating before she ever met him, and her motivation for avoiding it hadn't changed. Crawling out of bed, she fished a robe out of the suitcases she still hadn't managed to unpack.
He rose to his feet, pulling his shirt over his head. It was a shame to cover all that taut male flesh. She had to force herself to look away before she jumped him. He stepped into his pants and fastened them. “I'd like to see you when you're done today.”
“I don't know when I'll be done.” She belted her robe tight around her waist, taking comfort in the thin protection it offered. “This sort of event is unprecedented and therefore unpredictable.”
“Well, I have a lot of writing and research to do, so I'm more than capable of keeping myself entertained. I still want to see you when you're done, even if it's just to hold you while you sleep.”
She bit her lip, uncertain. There were so many reasons why that was a bad plan. She was usually one who planned everything ahead of time, examined every angle, tested every flaw before she made the best decision possible. With Rafe, she wanted to make a decision she knew wasn't a good one. She should say no, should refuse to be alone in the same room with him until she left for Spain.
The Panther within her sank its claws deep into her soul, a protest that such a thought would even surface. She ignored the feline instincts that warred with her rational mind. “It would be a mistake to get to know each other.”
He flinched a bit and a part of her ached inside that she'd brought him any pain. She bunched her fists and ruthlessly reminded herself that it was better to face the pain now than deal with the endless suffering that her brother was going through. That was not something she wanted to deal with, not something she wanted to inflict on a man she
liked
.
Rafe's dark chocolate gaze held hers. “I want to know you, my mate.”
“We'll never
be
mated, Rafe.” She crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. “Trust me when I tell you it's better this way.”
“Why should I trust you when you won't tell me the whole truth about why you're so afraid of mating?” The words were soft, but implacable, and they made the guilt she always tried to ignore come screeching to the surface.
She wanted to insist that she wasn't afraid, but it wouldn't be true. The truth was she was
terrified
of mating. The truth was far more complicated than anyone could guess. The truth was a tangled web of lies and secrets that weren't entirely hers to tell. She shook her head. “I've told you everything I can.”
He reached out and cupped her chin, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “Someday you'll trust me with everything, Teresa. Not just your body, but your heart and soul as well. Until you give me a reason that's good enough, I'm refusing to believe we can't work through whatever is holding you back. I can wait for you to be ready, but I'm not going anywhere.”
A shiver went down her spine, and she jerked away from his light touch. She couldn't give him what he wanted. She
would not
.
But that didn't stop her from wishing things were different, that she were different. That she hadn't seen what she'd seen, that she didn't know what she knew about what happened when mating went wrong. Her heart squeezed in pain at the reminder. The plan had always been to never mate. That was the
only
plan where she avoided the kind of misery and madness her brother lived with every day. That was the only plan she could trust.
 
Normally, he'd have avoided this cocktail party like the plague, but it was an opportunity to see Teresa and to watch her in what would be her natural environment. They were almost a week into the summit, so she'd had some time to settle in. He straightened his tie and tugged down the cuffs on his jacket. It had been a few years since he'd worn this suit—not since Antonio and Solana's wedding. He spent his time in hiking boots, not Italian wool suits.
Sweeping the Panther gathering with a look, he saw the entire Cruz family circulating through the crowd, and a few North American Pride members were also in the room, but most of them cast surreptitious glances at the celebrities of the Panther world. Antonio was deep in conversation with the South American Pride leader, the African leader heatedly debated with the Asian delegate, and the Australian emissary chatted with the South American heir and Teresa. She said something and the other two laughed.
BOOK: Prowl the Night
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