Prowl the Night (25 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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Just as Rafe had wanted her to do.
Enrique rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Life isn't fair—take from it what joy you can. Every moment is precious. Plan for the future as best you can, but there are no guarantees. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.”
He'd just given her exactly what she'd thought she needed when she came in here. Absolution. An excuse to go after what she truly wanted. In the end, it didn't matter what her brother said.
She
needed to make the choice to move forward, and no one could do that for her. On every front, she needed to accept her fate and face her fears. She needed to find Rafe and beg his forgiveness for hurting him.
Rising from her seat, she bent to kiss her brother's forehead. “Thank you.”
8
A
n intense whiff of Rafe's scent hit her when she exited Enrique's room. It was disorienting, and harder to dismiss than it had been when she arrived.
“
Benvinguda,
Teresa.”
The Catalan greeting caught her attention. Like other Prides, Panthers spoke Spanish and English, but in Barcelona, they also spoke the local language. She turned to see a maid stepping out of a guest room down the hall. “Thank you. It's good to be home. Who's staying in that room?”
“This room?” The woman looked confused as she closed the door behind her, a vacuum gripped in one hand. “A Mr. Santiago. He's visiting the Pride from North America.”
Of course he was. Where else would he have gone, but the one place where she couldn't run from him or from herself? So much of who she was was wrapped up in this home and the people who lived here. A wry grin curved her lips and she shook her head. “Do you know where he is?”
“A conference for travel writing, but I'm not sure where.” The maid flashed a grin. “At least that's the gossip in the kitchens. He's very handsome, and the chef says his books are good.”
“They are.” His scent called to her, beckoned her to follow. Now that she knew he was in the city, she could track him.
It took her over an hour, but she found him in a bar, where he sat in a dark corner with two human men. One was older, with a gray beard crusting his jaw, and the other was around Rafe's age . . . late thirties, early forties. There was something about them that reminded her of him, somehow, but she couldn't put her finger on what. Their body language, the lazy way they savored the drinks in front of them while they talked. The older man made a comment that set the three of them laughing, and she couldn't help but smile. It was wonderful to see Rafe laugh. It was wonderful just to see him at all. The last time she had, she'd been uncertain it would ever happen again.
She stood there for long moments drinking in the sight of him, and though he did nothing to acknowledge her presence, she knew he had to have caught her scent by now. The Panther would have sensed his mate nearby.
But now that she was here, her courage faltered. This was a huge step, a huge risk. Something she'd never imagined she'd do. And he knew that, which was why he would have let her come to him when she was ready. The man understood what she needed before she did. And since she was the one who'd denied their mating, she was the one who had to make it right between them. So many mistakes she'd made, so much doubt and worry. She sighed and pushed herself forward, moving until she stood next to Rafe's chair. “Hello.”
“Teresa.” He climbed to his feet, and the other men followed suit. He smiled, but didn't look her in the eyes. He gestured to the two humans. “These are my friends, Rolf and Tim.”
The older man's blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and she liked him immediately. He had the look of a man who possessed an endless curiosity about the world around him. It reminded her of Rafe, and she smiled and shook his hand. “It's nice to meet you, Tim. What brings you to my country?”
Tim's gesture encompassed all three men. “We're here for a travel writing conference. That's what we do.”
“I see.” She offered Rolf a hand to shake, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. The man was
tall
—he topped Rafe by at least an inch or two—so he towered over Teresa. His look was a little more serious than either Tim's or Rafe's, but she could see the same curiosity in his gaze. “And are you enjoying Barcelona?”
“Very much.”
Since her mate remained silent, she tried not to let it rattle her. Her stomach knotted, and she rubbed her sweaty palms against her skirt. “What do you like best?”
“It's a beautiful city, and with the Gaudí architecture, you'd never mistake Barcelona for any other place.” When she smiled at him, Rolf looked between her and Rafe as if he had no idea what was going on with them, but he gamely returned the grin. “I like it that you can go out at four in the morning, and the street is full of Barcelonans, just as if it were four in the afternoon. The city never seems to sleep and everyone seems . . . casually determined to have a good time.”
“What a lovely impression we've made on you. I'm glad you're enjoying your visit.” She finally managed to meet Rafe's gaze and could only hope he saw the apology in hers. She let everything show, hid nothing from him. She didn't want to hide from her mate anymore. She wanted that connection, that love that had no conditions. “May I speak with you? Privately?”
He looked at her for a long moment, and whatever he found in her expression seemed to appease him because he nodded and picked up his jacket from where it was draped on the back of his chair. He glanced at his friends. “I'll see you guys tomorrow.”
From the wicked smiles that formed on Tim's and Rolf's faces, she didn't need to guess what they assumed Rafe and she were off to do.
Then again, she hoped they were right.
 
Rafe's gut churned as they rode back to the mansion in silence. What they had to say couldn't be said in front of a human cab driver. The way Teresa looked, the way she smelled, the heat of her slim body next to him—
Dios,
he'd missed her. It had taken everything he had not to grab her the moment she'd walked into the bar tonight.
But he couldn't.
She'd been running from him, hiding things from him since the moment they met. If they were going to make a relationship work, she needed to want it as much as he did. She needed to open up. He'd been trying to convince himself that she could let go of her fear of mating, but it didn't matter what he believed. She had to believe it. And he needed the assurance that she did. The days apart had proven that he could only beat his head against a wall for so long.
“I spoke to my brother.”
He stilled, turning to look at her as the cab pulled to a stop in front of the house. She'd spoken to the brother whose actions, however inadvertently, had done so much to put a barrier between them. Was talking to him a good thing or a bad thing? Rafe wasn't sure. “Oh? What about?”
“Me. Us. Everything.” She paid the driver.
“Gracias, señor.”
She slid out and he followed her into the den and across the foyer to an office not far from the front door. It smelled like her and held light, curvy, feminine furniture, so he assumed it was her office. “And did your brother say anything interesting?”
“Many things, actually.” She closed the door behind her, clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her. She was nervous. Good. It meant she cared, that she was uncertain, not stubbornly entrenched in her viewpoint. “He was having one of his more lucid moments. They . . . aren't as frequent as they used to be.”
“I'm sorry.” He wanted to take her in his arms, reassure her, but he didn't. Setting himself up for more rejection and pain wasn't something he was interested in.
She hugged her arms around herself, but her jaw set in a firm line. “He said he'd be with his mate soon. And I think . . . he may kill himself to make that happen. Or become completely vegetative.”
“
Dios.
” He couldn't remain aloof from her. Not from his mate, not when she was hurting. He reached for her, and she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around him.
“It's a mercy, really.” But he could hear the suppressed sob in her voice. “He's in misery right now, and he wants to be with Lupe. I can't begrudge him that.”
“No, I can understand that.” But he couldn't understand the selfishness that could lead a man to cause so much suffering in those he was supposed to care for. Teresa would never have done those things, and neither would Rafe. More than anything else, that fundamental comprehension of their character gave him a spark of hope that they could move beyond Enrique's fate.
“He told me I was a fool if I let my own mate walk away and didn't hold on to whatever happiness I could find for as long as I could keep it.”
That surprised Rafe into a chuckle. “Your brother is a smart man in his lucid moments.”
Tipping her head back, she gave him a wan smile. “I know. He used to be that way all the time, but now . . .” She shrugged helplessly. “He told me I'd make a good Pride leader and that I was stronger than he was. I don't know if I believe that, but I hope he's right. I hope I can restore honor to my people.”
“You can.” He had absolutely no doubts. Her dedication to her family, her sense of fairness, her dutiful nature meant she'd do whatever it took to succeed. He wished he had such absolute faith in her willingness to be mated.
She pressed her face to his chest, her shoulders shaking. “Thank you, Rafe.”
“Of course.” He slid his hand up and down her back.
“Seeing my brother just brought home so many things.” She swallowed audibly. “I'm so sorry, Rafe.”
For what? He wanted to ask, but the question froze in his throat when he saw her grief and guilt-ridden expression. His chest tightened to the point where he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. This was it. She'd end it now, ask him to leave the den, tell him that talking to Enrique had only reinforced her desire to never mate. That place he'd hoped to belong, that final end to his restlessness evaporated.
“I should never have let you leave San Francisco. I should never have let my uncertainties get in the way of . . . of everything. My whole life. I was afraid to be the heir, so I kept telling myself it shouldn't be me doing it. Even though I loved it.” Her lips shook, but her gaze was clear. “And I was so in that mind-set, I did the same thing with you. I was afraid to have a mate, so I pushed you away. Even though I wanted to mate with you. Even though I love you.”
He laughed; he couldn't help it. Heady relief exploded deep inside him. He'd been waiting for this since the day they'd met—some indication that she wanted to mate with him. He laughed until tears filled his eyes, and he squeezed her tight. “I love you, too.”
Her arms looped around his neck, and she held on for dear life. “I'm so sorry, Rafe.”
“Are you sure?” He pulled back to look at her.
She nodded. “There's always going to be the chance that we lose each other, though I hope that's not for many, many years, but . . . it struck me that no matter what my brother has done, the one thing he doesn't regret is loving his mate. Why would I fight against the things he
does
regret and not try to hold on to the things that he doesn't? I don't want to repeat his mistakes, and that's been my whole motivation since I was shoved into the heir role.” She sighed, shook her head. “All my doubts ended up spilling over onto you, and that hurt you.”
“That hurt us both.”
“Yes. That hurt us both.” She took a deep breath. “I won't say that I'm not scared. I am. Scared I'll fail at being a leader and being a mate, scared I'll lose you and lose my mind. But not even
trying
and living with the regret of letting everyone down, letting you down, letting myself down scares me more. I don't want to regret my life.”
He cupped her cheeks in his palms. “I'm not a fan of regrets.”
“I want to be the Pride leader, and I want to mate with you. There are so many things that could go wrong, things I watched go wrong with my brother.” She covered his hands with hers. “I hope everything works out well, but most of the bad things are beyond my control. I can only do my best, hold on to what I love, and . . . that's it. I know what I want, and no matter how scared I am, I'm not running away anymore.”
“That's all I can ask for. That's all I can offer you in return. I promise to do my best, and I promise to be as stubborn as you are about holding on to what I love.” He stroked his fingers over her smooth skin, something giving way inside his chest. A final kernel of doubt.
“You walking away was what made me realize what I stood to lose.”
He grinned. “Yeah, well. You have your way of making a point and I have mine.”
“I got the point.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “I love you.”
“Prove it.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Prove I got the point or prove I love you?”
“Both.” He let his smile widen, become lascivious.
Her grin matched his, and she slid her fingers into his hair, pulling him down to her. He devoured her like a man starved. His tongue thrust into her mouth, groaning when her sweet flavor burst over his taste buds. Her grip on his hair tightened, and she held him closer, pressing herself against his body.
The Panther within him clawed for freedom, and he didn't even try to restrain it. For once, the cat and the man were in complete accord. He growled, ripping at her clothes, popping buttons and shredding cloth. She did the same, her hands urgent on his shirt, his pants. They were naked in under a minute, their bare flesh sliding and hands roving over each other. He pushed his fingers between her thighs, found her slippery with cream.

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