There was an agony in being alone, knowing Luiz was suffering and Manolito needed her with him. She felt the need, but couldn’t do anything to help either of them. Manolito had been uncompromising, not realizing, or maybe he did, that he was asking her to go against her nature. Once more she pushed away fear and concentrated on Manolito, because in that moment she had connected with him, she felt his struggle with the shadow world. She might not be able to reach Luiz, but she could Manolito. The connection between them was incredibly strong.
And then she was solidly in his mind, in Luiz’s mind, and saw for herself the true horrors of conversion. The agony wrenching at the jaguar-man as death called, as the cat fought. Manolito took way too much on himself, shouldering as much of the pain as nature would allow. Both men were stoic, each fully aware of the other, Luiz trying to bear it all with great dignity. Manolito strove to be compassionate and comforting while allowing the jaguar-man his self-respect. In that moment, with tears running down her face and her body writhing in the shared pain of the two men, she knew she could love Manolito wholly, with everything in her.
The attraction may have been started with some ancient ritual. She may have been obsessed physically with him, but in the end, she saw his true character. He was open to her as he tirelessly worked to help Luiz come fully into his world, and her heart responded in the only way MaryAnn knew—completely.
12
The conversion was the most frightening thing she could imagine, a dark, painful death and rebirth. She knew she was facing it and that Manolito, watching what Luiz had gone through, was not as certain as he had been that he wanted to risk her. Strangely, for the first time she did consider risking everything, because what she had learned here today was that Manolito De La Cruz was far more than a gorgeous man with a too-arrogant attitude, and she was already more than halfway in love with him.
She French-braided her hair in the tub, her hands adept at the familiar task, giving her comfort when she wanted to weep a little for what Manolito, not Luiz, had gone through. His brothers thought him insane. He even believed he might be, but he had handled the jaguar-man with great care and respect and had suffered greatly for it. He had known she was there, helping Luiz and soothing him as best she could, and he would have done anything to spare her that, but it only made her feel closer to him.
She pulled on lacy thong underwear in midnight blue, the ones with the tiny gold chain on either hip that made her feel sexy and courageous in the worst of circumstances. Her skirt was calf length and fell in ripples of material, a fall of royal blue that looked dynamite with her butter-soft matching blue knee-high boots with the cuffed tops. They molded to her feet like slippers and whispered when she walked. The skirt showed off her nicely rounded butt to the best advantage, and she was going to need every advantage she could get with Manolito when she discussed with him the dos and don’ts of their relationship. Because she’d made up her mind they were going to give it a try.
Her demi push-up bra matched the thong, dark and exotic, giving her curves a nice allure and enhancing the fit of her short, royal blue sleeveless blouse with the little pearl buttons up the front. Accessories were everything, and she had plenty. As she pushed bangles onto her wrist, she conjured up his image.
The way he smiled. His thick, jet black hair, even more shiny and luxurious than she had realized the previous evening. His eyes. Oh, lord, he had those hot, demanding eyes and that wickedly sensual mouth, and what the hell was she dressing to seduce him for? She was trying to get a handle on her emotions, and she was definitely dressed to get him to sit up and take notice. She was playing with fire, and she knew enough about life to know that if she did that, she couldn’t cry when she got burned.
The tension in the house was gone, and she let her breath out slowly and sank down onto the bed to wait for him. She could hear the clock ticking. Endlessly and loudly ticking. He was coming. Soon. Immediately. She waited, but as the minutes passed, the smiled faded from her face. Her teeth clicked together as she—dare she use the word—gnashed them. He wouldn’t leave her locked in her room like an unruly teen. He had better come. Now. Before she lost her sweet forgiving nature for all time.
She stalked across the room and gave the door a thump with her fist. “Come on, jungle man. Enough is enough. Get me out of here.”
Silence met her demand. She was going to kill him with her bare hands. Her nonviolent beliefs were wasted in the rain forest and definitely obsolete with jungle man. “I take back every good thing I ever thought about you,” she yelled at the door, and smacked it with her open palm for good measure. Right where his face should be. “You need someone to slap you upside that hard head.”
And a good hard slap wouldn’t be enough. She might have to think up other, much more savage punishments, although she didn’t have that kind of imagination. Whips and chains. But that conjured up black leather boots with stiletto heels, fishnet stockings and a leather bustier. And that was so not happening, because he didn’t deserve it to happen. What he needed was the smackdown of a lifetime. Those horrible shows on television with men fighting in cages and one of them pummeling the other, that would be the way to go, not leather and boots.
The door swung open, and Manolito’s broad shoulders filled the frame. He stood there blinking down at her, rubbing his jaw ruefully, a quizzical look on his face. “I believe it best if you only think nice thoughts about me.”
She opened her mouth to slay him with words, then snapped it shut abruptly. He looked exhausted. Totally exhausted, weary from his fight to save two lives, heal her and keep the two worlds he existed in separate. She felt the weariness like a great weight on his shoulders—on hers. She knew what he’d been through, and she knew why he had tried to spare her.
MaryAnn put her hands on her hips and regarded him from head to toe. “You managed to exhaust yourself. Did your brother give you more blood?” She felt courageous asking the question, forcing herself to face who and what he was without flinching away from his needs.
A faint smile softened the hard edge of his mouth and pushed the deep shadows from his eyes. “I did exhaust myself. You look beautiful, MaryAnn. One look at you and everything else fades away.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She wanted to be alone with him so badly she actually took a step back instead. “Where?”
“I have a surprise for you.” He kept his arm extended toward her, gaze steady on hers.
Letting her breath out, she put her hand in his. At once his fingers closed over hers and he drew her close to the warmth of his body. She could feel the heat and the pull of their connection wash over and into her.
“Luiz?”
“He is in the ground, well guarded. This time we used safeguards no mage should be able to penetrate. It is long since we have had dealings with that species, and over the centuries we have grown careless. The recent battle with them should have taught us we must always factor them in when guarding our homes and sleeping chambers. Such a mistake will not happen again.”
“Thank you for what you did for him.”
He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, a soft, lingering touch, nonaggressive, as if he simply was savoring her. “You are welcome. We will see how Luiz feels about it all when he rises.”
Manolito would have to control Luiz’s natural instincts to feed. Luiz already had years of jaguar instincts and he would awaken ravenous. If he gave in to the need to kill his prey, Manolito would have to dispatch him fast and efficiently, but he didn’t want to think about that now. He wanted to fill his mind with nothing but his lifemate, MaryAnn. He didn’t want to think anymore about the shadow world, or the real world, or the mess he had gotten himself into just to see a look of gratitude on a woman’s face.
“He can’t feel pain, can he?”
Manolito tucked her hand beneath his chin, his thumb sliding over her skin in a slow caress. “No. He is safe. He will stay for two or three nights before he rises, and I will be there to help hi
m as much as possible when the time comes.”
“And Solange?”
“Juliette and Riordan are with her.” He rubbed her knuckles back and forth against his jaw. “The house is clean and protected. Everything is quiet. I want to take you away from here and have you to myself for a little while.”
Her heart gave a funny little jump. More than anything she wanted to be with him. She had dressed with care and made certain she looked her best so that she would have the courage to face him and whatever was between them, but now that he stood in front of her, looking better than any man had a right to look, she wasn’t certain being alone with him was the smartest idea. He was just too sexy and appealing. She didn’t want to relate to him just physically, and her newfound feelings made her feel more vulnerable than ever.
“I find my lifemate absolutely fascinating and would very much like to get to know you,” he added. There was no push to see it his way. There was no order, or demand. His simple statement held the ring of truth and cut through every defense she had.
“You’re certain I shouldn’t check in on Jasmine and Solange? I came here to try to help them, not that I’ve done much good.”
“You helped saved their lives,” he said, drawing her gently beneath his shoulder. “Solange is resting and Juliette is with her sister.” He took a breath, drew her scent deep into his lungs. “I need you.” His voice roughened with hunger. His black eyes smoldered with smoky lust.
She nodded, her heart pounding hard. Her pulse seemed to hammer right through her entire body, bunching muscles and tightening her nipples, making her ache. Her mouth went dry, and she touched her tongue to her lips, gasping as his watchful gaze followed the action.
“I’m not certain it’s safe.”
“No harm will come to you,” he promised. The pad of his thumb traced the path her tongue had taken, outlining her lips with a brush of heat. “Not as long as I am with you.”
“You.” She could barely breathe, let alone get the word out. “You’re not safe. I have this crazy reaction to you.” It was best to be honest and let him know. “The thing is, I set rules for myself a long time ago.”
“Rules?” His eyebrow arched in question, but his gaze was still on her mouth.
“For me. For men. I don’t just sleep with anyone.” This so wasn’t coming out right because she honestly couldn’t think with him looking at her like that.
“I am grateful for your rules.”
There was a faint quirk to his mouth that only added to his allure. How could she explain she felt her self-respect and years of restraint were about to go flying out the window? If she was alone with him, she’d be doing her best to seduce him, or just plain beg for him to slam her up against the nearest wall and have his way with her.
She had never wanted a relationship with a man that was comfortable. She had wanted all-consuming passion or nothing at all. She’d settled for nothing at all. She had fantasized about a relationship with a man who could inspire hot erotic licks of electricity running up and down her spine, where she met him in a grocery store wearing absolutely nothing beneath a coat, or danced with him in a sensual haze at a party, his hands moving on her skin, knowing, needing, that they wouldn’t make it home before they succumbed to their desire for each other. Now here it was, every fantasy she had ever dreamt of.
MaryAnn was fairly certain Manolito De La Cruz was the hottest man alive. He dripped sensuality. From every look and mannerism to the set of his shoulders, the thickness of his chest, the way his hips narrowed and the all-too-impressive bulge in the front of his jeans. His eyes were heavy-lidded and smoky with lust for her. While that stark hunger made her heart pound and her body go into serious meltdown, the truth was, in every single fantasy, the man had been wild about her, deeply in love. One without the other wasn’t acceptable to her.
“If I go off alone with you again now, Manolito, I’m not certain I could live with myself afterward.”
“I will do nothing you cannot live with.”
From the sound of his voice, he hoped to do things she couldn’t live without, and that was exactly what she feared. Because she so wanted those things. She wanted him to teach her all the things she dreamt about, she wanted to belong to him, to have him love her, show her that the things in her mind could be real, not just imagined.
“You are not letting me into your mind.”
Was there hurt in his voice? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. “I don’t know how to let you in or out of my mind. I honestly have no idea why you all think I’m psychic. Jasmine thought I saved her from the mage. The wind was horrendous; a branch broke off and fell on him. I didn’t do that. How could I have?”
In a way she was very grateful he couldn’t get into her mind. He would never get in if she had anything to do with it. All she needed was for him to read her fantasies and she would be in more trouble than she could imagine—and she had far too vivid an imagination when it came to sex.
Manolito’s dark eyes drifted possessively over her face. “Come with me, MaryAnn. Let me show you my world.”
She shouldn’t go. She was asking for trouble if she went. She sighed. Of course she was going with him. She was going because she’d lost her mind, because she could still taste him in her mouth and feel his hands on her body and she ached inside and out for him. “I’m bringing the pepper spray.”
His faint smile sent tiny, flickering flames of arousal licking over her breasts and down her belly, dancing along her inner thighs until she felt searing heat scorch her most feminine core. She let her breath out, feeling as if she’d just leapt off a cliff.
“I would expect nothing less than pepper spray,” he answered, his voice tinged with amusement.
That small note of humor, one she suspected was rare in him, just added to his allure. She lifted her gaze to his and was lost in the absolute focus and intensity she saw there—for her. Nothing—no one—existed for him but her in that moment.
With exquisite gentleness, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her slowly up against his body. His skin was hot and hard and smelled masculine. His midnight hair brushed across her face as he lifted her, sliding her body up his so that she felt the thickness and length of his erection pressed deep into her softer body. “Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. If you still fear flying, press your face into my neck so you cannot see. Trust me to take care of you, MaryAnn.”
There was a terribly intimate note in the velvet rasp of his voice, husky and promising and altogether shocking, as if sin lived and breathed in him and reached to wrap her in nothing but passion. The double meaning sent a shiver of desire spiraling through her body. MaryAnn was all about control, and this man was all about taking it away. Her pulse followed the rhythm of his. Her heart hammered out the same beat. Temptation to taste the forbidden was so strong she let her hands bunch for a moment in his silky hair, absorbing the texture, feeling shaken inside.
She closed her eyes when her feet left the floor. He took her breath so easily, shaking her up until she forgot about being MaryAnn the counselor and became, wholly and completely, MaryAnn the woman. The hollow of his neck was warm and inviting, and she nuzzled his shirt aside so her face could rest against his skin. Her lips moved against him, tasting him, because she could. Because when she did, a shudder of pleasure shook his strong body.
The night was surprisingly warm. As he whisked her through the forest, she could hear all sound cease, as animals, birds and insects became aware of their presence. A shiver went down her spine as she realized they were sensing a predator. It was impossible not to feel alive with him. He created energy, both sensual and exciting, most of all dangerous, and wrapped her in his voracious sexual appetite for her, his need for her elevating her own needs and desires.
For all of that, his looks and his sensuality, it wasn’t her virtue in the most jeopardy, because he was a good man and her heart responded with the same passion as her body. The biggest risk was letting him into
her heart. He gave of himself so quickly to others, without thought of consequences to himself, and no other trait in a man could appeal to her quite so much. He was starkly honest about everything, and that appealed to her as well. He showed her vulnerability when he told her about seeing and hearing things from another world. He let her inside of him without reservation.
And just like that you open your mind to me.
She felt warm, as if he’d enfolded her in a velvet wrap. “Did I?”
If she did, she hadn’t thought about the danger of opening her mind. Only her heart. She kept her face buried in the hollow of his neck, feeling safe as they moved through the sky.
Look now, MaryAnn.
“I’m afraid of heights.”
She was afraid of loving what he showed her. Afraid of loving this man and changing her life—one she’d worked so hard for—forever. She just really enjoyed her little niche. She knew she helped others; she was good at it, and she liked her independence. And there was that very frightening thing inside of her, something that terrified her, one she kept locked away, but it was drawn to this man. In the city, surrounded by people and the hustle and bustle of life, it stayed quiet and under her control. Here, with this man, she could feel it stretching and reaching inside of her, anxious for freedom. And she didn’t dare let it free.
His lips brushed the top of her head. You will not be afraid, I promise you. You will see my world the way I see it.
She closed her eyes briefly and pressed tighter into him. That was exactly what she feared. She didn’t want to see beauty in the rain forest. She wanted to see the insects. Lots of nasty, biting insects. And leeches. They had leeches, she just knew it. When she looked, she’d dwell on that. It was the only way she could think of to stay safe. Armed with a picture of big, fat, blood-sucking bugs, she cautiously raised her head and looked around her.