“Er . . . .”
“We seem to have several women here who’d rather be anywhere else,” Christophe said. “That’s not a good advertisement for us. I’ve got Dylan helping one; you better do your best with one of the others. Meryl wants a boat trip to a deserted atoll with a good book and a bottle of champagne. You need to drive the boat. You have an hour to get things ready.” He turned back to the security screen, his mind no longer on Marloth.
Marloth hesitated, but it was clear neither Christophe nor Faran needed or wanted to say more.
Faran gestured with his thumb toward the door, and bared his teeth for a brief second.
Marloth hid his grimace, and with a courteous dip of his head, he spun on his heel and left the room. Faran and bared teeth was not a good sign. When he did that, everybody ducked. He closed the door quietly and with care. Dylan was waiting for him.
“And?”
“Huh?” Marloth shook his head. “Baby-sitting the one woman who’d like my balls on a platter.”
“Serves you right. I get to take care of a woman who has no dreams or fantasies.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Mind you, maybe I’ll catch up on my reading.” He laughed.
Marloth grinned, with Christophe in the mood he was in, there wasn’t much hope of that.
Dylan punched Marloth on the arm. “Stay cool, and for all our sakes, no unnecessary shifting please. I couldn’t cope with freaking out women who think they’ve seen big cats and worry what they’ve been drinking or what’s been put into the food. Not after everything else.”
“Yeah.” Marloth walked away from Dylan and along the corridor toward the kitchen. He reckoned he’d need more than a bottle of Champagne to make Meryl happy. He didn’t have long to plan, either. There was no time to try to evade his responsibilities, which he guessed was Christophe and Faran’s intention. He’d screwed up; he would pay. It was Faran’s way of keeping him in check. He glanced at his watch, there was just time to grab anything of his own he wanted before he sweet-talked the chef.
Condoms or no condoms? Even though there was as much chance as a snowball’s survival in hell, he shoved a handful of foil packets into his pocket. He could dream. Er, no I can’t. This is not my dream or fantasy, but Meryl’s.
Of course, he mused as he rummaged through the giant larder fridge, after promising the chef he wouldn’t mess the contents around, maybe Faran wanted him out of the way for another reason? If he was off the island, then that was one cat less. Faran was well aware that Marloth could and would shift on a whim if he were in the right mood. And, Marloth admitted to himself, those moods were becoming ever more frequent. He had to sort himself out. Unfortunately, the one sure way of soothing the savage beast was the last thing likely to happen. I must keep my muzzle out of other tigers’ business. He grabbed the picnic basket and the cool box, and exited the kitchen. If he wanted to beat Meryl to the boat, he needed to get a move on.
* * * * *
In the end, he had a good half an hour after he’d checked the boat over, refueled and taken it around to the guest dock. By the time Meryl sauntered along the planking jetty, he was snarling under his breath.
He stared at her with narrowed eyes, but stayed silent. If he spoke and she replied in any way except polite, he’d end up shifting, and there’d be hell to pay. Shifting in front of guests—even those who knew you were a tiger-shifter—was a big no-no. He wondered if any guest had asked for a fantasy where they were faced with a shifter shifting. If they had, he’d never heard of it.
Meryl reached the side of the boat and waited until he leapt onto the jetty beside her to help her aboard. Her perfume surrounded him, and Marloth wanted to howl at the sun. She was his; nothing had changed there.
She smirked, took his hand, and paused before she stepped on to the boat. “Thank you.”
He bit back what he wanted to say—why are you here—and nodded.
“Cat got your tongue?”
That was it. He snarled aloud, and his teeth showed very much tiger-style. “It might get yours if you don’t behave. You came; you asked for the fantasy. So, by god, you’re getting it. Get on.” He held his hand out and after a long moment when he thought he might have to manhandle—or cathandle—her on board, she nodded.
“Yeah.” Meryl let out a long sigh. “Sorry. I’m a bit stressed out. I saw the picture, but decided I was hallucinating. After all, the last time I saw you, you were loping across the field behind my house, and I was shit scared you’d be shot as the big cat of the Trossachs.”
Actually, the last time you saw me was much more recent than that. He chose to keep his mouth shut about that meeting.
“That could have been difficult, I admit. But we were somewhat overtaken by events. Visitors as we were about to say goodbye. Shit timing. Your expression was to tell me to scat-cat, and I had no chance to shift. No.” He put his hand over her lips and felt her soft, warm breath feather over it. “It’s over now. Let’s try and move on as best we can.” Damn, if it doesn’t hurt to say that. It wasn’t true, not for him, and if he were honest, he had no intention of letting it be over. He would sort things out; he had to. “Why don’t you sit down and let’s get off to your atoll. It’s about twenty minutes.” He didn’t say he could do the trip faster if he tried. The less time she was on the atoll, the less time he would have to concentrate solely on her, and Marloth wanted to think and plot. Then concentrate on her.
Meryl nibbled her top lip, and then nodded. “Okay.”
Marloth opened a small fridge and gave her a bottle of water. She took it, and twisted it between her hands.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome, keep your liquid intake up. It’s going to be a scorcher. Do you have cream on?”
Meryl rolled her eyes. “Duh, I might come from the land where most tans are of the spray variety, but I’m not stupid. I do know how many beans make five. Factor forty actually.” And put that into your pipe and smoke it, smart-ass.
“Good girl.” It seemed she’d either forgotten his gift of hearing her thoughts or wanted to tell him what she thought.
Add patronizing ass to that.
He chuckled. “Yeah, whatever. Lifejacket under your seat, life raft’s next to me. So, let’s go.” He moved swiftly, and cast off the boat. Meryl watched him without moving her head. He was very conscious of the way she used her eyes to follow his every move.
“You know, you’re really graceful, aren’t you?” She sounded surprised. The admiration in her voice sent a shock wave of hot splinters into his cock. Oh shit! All I need, to be turned on by her so easily. But it had been like that before. One look from her, and he was hot, hard, and raring to go.
“I’m a tiger; we are.”
She looked bewildered.
“Graceful,” he elaborated.
“Oh, right.” She looked anywhere but at his face. Her gaze skittered over his crotch, and he watched the blush flare over her chest and cheeks. Well, his prick was pushing against his linen trousers and turning them into a tent.
“You do that to me.” He tried to sound casual and failed dismally. “Turn me on with a look. I could, all so easily, drop anchor, drop trousers, and drop you onto the deck.” Her eyes widened. “But I won’t. You want me, you tell me.” He checked the compass and altered direction slightly. “It’s over to you now. I know damned well I could persuade you to make love, but I’m not going to. When we make love again, it’s going to be because you instigate it. Your chance to show me what you want and how you want it. And I’m going to lie back and let you.”
“Hell, you’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you? What if I say never?” Meryl spoke so casually, how on earth could he think she had feelings for him?
Because I need to. I need to have faith and hope. He laughed, though he felt like crying. “Then I’ll be single, sad, and alone.”
Meryl shifted on the bench. Marloth’s words were so how she felt at times, it would have been easy to give in, and say ‘get on with it, please make love t
o me’. But something held her back. They’d been down that route. After the most perfect month of her life, he’d left. Okay, she’d told him to go, and Meryl still thought she’d done the right thing. He’d been worried and she knew he had to go back to wherever to sort things out. To help him, she acted indifferent. As she watched him lope across the field behind her house, she had stuffed her hand into her mouth to stop herself from calling him back. It would solve nothing, and she’d still be alone in the end.
With a sigh, Meryl twisted round to look at the white crested waves the wake of the boat left. She was alone anyway, so what was the difference? Self respect, yes, she had that, but it was a cold comfort when she rolled over in the middle of the night, stretched out her arm, and felt—nothing.
Now, here he was again within arm’s reach, and still, she wasn’t going to stretch out that arm. Nothing had changed or why hadn’t he contacted her? Meryl turned and looked at the back of Marloth’s head. He stood at the helm and adjusted some button or another on a board in front of him. The sheer beauty of him took her breath away. Talk about sex on legs, sexy cats, and all other things sex. Her mouth was dry, and she opened the bottle of water and took a hefty swallow. If nothing else, she was going to have to be able to stand up and get off the boat without falling into a heap of drool at his feet.
Thank goodness for my eReader. She pushed her sunglasses firmly onto her nose. The eReader would come in handy as armor later. For now, she’d hide behind her dark glasses. Sometimes life sucked. What had she learned? Not a lot except strong emotions hurt, and mating with a shifter was fraught with difficulty. She touched her shoulder and it throbbed under her finger. The damned mark she’d noticed on the plane seemed to have deepened, almost as if it were permanent. Not only that, she realized it almost matched the one high on her thigh that served as a reminder of her earlier time with Marloth.
Oh, so not good. I need to erase him from my life, not keep him in it. Surely, she didn’t hear a voice mutter ‘you and me both’ and then as if an afterthought, ‘that’s not going to happen, though, is it?’ As much as she wished she didn’t, she agreed with the sentiment.
“Did you speak?” Meryl asked Marloth, suspicion in her voice. He glanced up from whatever he’d been studying and shook his head.
“Nah. Why?” He switched something on—or off—and pointed ahead. “That’s where we’re off to. Tranquillita—Tranquility. Once there, you can do your own thing. I won’t interfere unless you ask me to.” His tone showed he thought there was as much likelihood of that as Elvis appearing and serenading them.
The tiny dot on the horizon he’d pointed to was growing bigger by the second. Meryl stood up to get a better view. The boat surged and she fell back down onto the bench in a very inelegant sprawl.
“Sorry.” If ever a word didn’t convey its meaning, that was it.
And she could hope that if glares conveyed what they meant, he’d be very worried about his balls—human or otherwise. “Of course you are,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you be?” A red tinge spread over his chest and face, and Meryl chuckled. “You might need something for that.” She pointed to his blush and sniggered. “After all, it seems to be spreading at a fair pace. I do hope it isn’t contagious.” He muttered something and growled. An honest to goodness, ‘don’t mess with me, I’m dangerous’ growl. Meryl ignored it. He wasn’t dangerous to her, and they both knew it. Not in a scratch, bite, and maim way. Unless you count him marking me as his, and we all know what a lie that is. In a ‘mess with my mind and ruin me for anyone else’ way? That was a whole different ball game. Argh, no, don’t even think of ball games.
“One day, I might just tip you over my lap and redden your ass.” Marloth spoke as if he was commenting on the price of wine. “I’ll give you ball games.”
He’s at it again. Am I that transparent? And redden my ass? Er, no way. So why did her breath hitch and her skin tingle in anticipation?
“Come on, Meryl, be honest with yourself. We both know you like it, and we also know what was between us is still there. The thing is, what do we do about it?”
Meryl wondered how he managed to keep his tone so level. There they were, discussing—well, what were they discussing? She thought back to his last words.
“Nothing, we do nothing. It’s over and I’ve moved on, even if you haven’t.” But had she? Meryl didn’t want to think that question through. She hurried on. “And if you think you’re going anywhere near my ass, believe me, it’ll be the last thing you do before you have your balls cut off.”
He laughed. The sheer joy of it, along with undertones of danger and passion, wrapped around her and zinged to her clit.
Damn it, even his laugh is more like a ‘come here and stroke my fur’ demand. Or a ‘let me mark you and claim you as mine’. Why the hell is he so sure of himself, and I’m a quivering wreck of anxiety? And need.
“Not a chance love.” He sobered, and the pain on his face made her tummy churn. He looked as if he’d seen heaven and hell, and it was hell that beckoned. “My balls stay attached. Though, we do need to talk. Well.” He must have seen the way she felt because he rushed on. “I do. There’s a lot to discuss and I’m not sure just how to do it. No, don’t say it—I know open my mouth and let the words out. But it’s not that easy. I know this is supposed to be your fantasy, but will you let me share a tiny part of it? So we can talk?” He glanced at her for a brief second and raised one eyebrow, before turning away, to look forward and alter the course of the boat. The tiny atoll wasn’t far away now, and all his concentration was on maneuvering toward a tiny landing stage set just off the sand. A curved and weather-beaten plank jetty stretched from it to the land.
Meryl was relieved not to have the full force of his attention on her. She knew she needed to get off the boat, and think without her mind overwhelmed by him. Sod the man; he knows how to get to me. One soulful look and I’m toast. If it hadn’t been for the faint predatory and all-knowing look in his eyes, Meryl might have given in straight away. But for that tiny gleam of macho cat ‘I know what’s best’ in his eyes, she’d have given in there and then. Meryl hardened her heart, even though she felt sick as she did. Marloth might send her channel into spasms and her clit into a frenzy of ‘touch me, help me’ pathetic stings, but for once she had to try and be sensible. It was difficult.
“Maybe. I’ll see how I feel after a swim, a rest, and my fizz.”
His shoulders tensed, as if he’d been expecting it, and Meryl squashed her instant response to say ‘okay’ there and then. That wasn’t the answer.
“I guess that’s better than a flat out no.” There was a slight jolt as the boat nudged against the landing stage. “Give me one moment to get the boat secure, and I’ll help you off.”
Meryl admired the way his muscles rippled as he secured the rope. No doubt about it, the guy was X-rated.
“Meryl? Are you ready?”
She’d been so tied up with her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Marloth waited to help her off the boat. Beside him, sat a large picnic basket, several big fluffy towels, a cool box, and what looked like a mess of ropes. For one moment, she thought of bondage and Shibari, and her body tightened at the thought. Why did it excite her so much? She’d freaked when Marloth had suggested it before. Now her juices were in danger of showing just how she felt.
“I thought you might like a hammock slung between a couple of trees,” Marloth said as she flung her bag over her shoulder, and took his hand to climb over the gunwale of the boat. “But if you want bondage and Shibari, that’s fine by me.”
Damn and blast, I forgot he could read my mind. “That’s just rude. People’s thoughts should be private. How’d you like it if I nipped in and out of your head like a yoyo?” Meryl let him help her onto the jetty. It swayed. She grabbed hold of a post, and hitched her bag up again. It was a nuisance when it kept slipping off her shoulder and down her arm. However, if she slung it over her head and let it rest that way, she knew fine well it would make he
r boobs look like melons, and that scenario she could well do without.
“For goodness sake, woman. They don’t look like melons. Nice ripe juicy peaches I’d love to taste, yes, but melons? No way. And if you weren’t so bloody open to me, I’d not read you. Sheesh, Meryl, I hardly needed my gift. You were in my own mind so loud, I was thinking of earplugs.”
Meryl saw red. She swung her handbag hard in his direction. Whether he was prepared to let her, or she caught him by accident, Meryl had no idea. One second he was standing next to her, the next she got a view of his feet as he went headfirst into the water.
Bloody stupid idiotic . . . Marloth just had time to take a deep breath before the water covered his head. Damn lucky I enjoy swimming. He was a strong swimmer either as a human or a tiger. At least he landed in the deeper water, or his head would be stuck in the sand, and even with his shifting abilities, he’d be a gonner.
Marloth held his breath as he twisted around and pushed up toward the surface. As he stretched his arm toward the posts of the jetty, he felt a hand grab his shorts and twist the material. Marloth wasn’t sure whether to fear for his balls caught up in the knots or worry the force of the hold would pull the shorts down and leave him butt naked. Whichever was the outcome, they needed to move.
Mind made up, he took hold of the arm and propelled both himself and he presumed Meryl, upward. As his head broke the surface, Meryl shot up next to him without losing her grip on his boardies. Her fingers curled under the edge of the material and stroked his skin. The hairs on his legs stood stiffly at attention as her body brushed his. Even with the buffering effect of the water his skin tingled at her touch. Marloth yearned to grab her butt and to pull her closer, but stopped himself from acting on his wish. Behaving like an adolescent schoolboy wouldn’t gain him any kudos. Her nails raked over his thigh and he winced. Damn, you’d think she was the mind reader, not me. That was too close to his crotch for comfort.
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