When a Liger Mates (A Lion's Pride Book 10)

by Eve Langlais

  “Then you won’t have a problem humoring me later when I go take my own look.”

  “Why later? Why not go there now?”

  “Because the hotel is right there.” He pointed. “And it’s been hours since I’ve made you come.”

  “Lawrence!” She said his name in a high pitch that had him chuckling.

  “What can I say? I am addicted to you.”

  He pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, and a doorman approached, ready to help her out. Lawrence moved fast enough to intercept him, skimming over the hood of the car, hitting the other side in time to hip check the doorman, open the door, and hold out his hand to her.

  She eyed it and him before grasping it. He hauled her out and held her close a moment longer than necessary.

  “Did you really have to knock him down for trying to do his job?”

  “Yes.” His grin was unrepentant.

  “You’re bad.”

  “The worst,” he agreed.

  She swayed on her feet, looking exhausted.

  “Do you want me to carry you?”

  She shook her head. “What would people say?”

  “I should probably mention that the hotel is paid handsomely to look the other way.”

  “More of your secrets,” she mumbled.

  “Not for much longer. Give me a chance and I’ll fill you in on what I can.”

  “What if I don’t want to know?”

  “Would you rather I kept quiet?”

  She pressed her lips. “I’m too tired to think. Ask me again tomorrow.”

  She fell into step with him, only stiffening as they passed the doormen. To their credit, they held open the portals without a world despite their wretched appearance.

  There weren’t many people around, which proved lucky. They made it to his suite without seeing anyone else. He immediately kicked off his shoes and headed for the mini bar. She remained frozen by the door.

  “Don’t stand there. Get comfortable. If you want a shower, there’s a robe in the bathroom.”

  “A shower sounds nice.”

  “As hot and long as you like, Peanut.”

  Magic words that finally brought a smile. “You might regret that.”

  He did, but only because she spent a long time in there alone. Naked. Whereas he made do with the second smaller bathroom with its simple shower. But it did the job, and he resisted the temptation to join her.

  It was torture, but he wanted her to relax. She was exhausted. Wary around him. He was also curious to see what would happen if he didn’t make the first move.

  When she emerged, swaddled in white terry cloth, her hair bound in a towel, her glasses crooked, it was to find him lounging on the sofa, phone in hand. He’d had the front desk send up a replacement and now went through some text messages. Most of them assuming he’d gone on a bender or was hiding from an irate father/husband again. Did people really think so little of him?

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Human again.”

  He snorted. “Was that meant to be a bad joke?”

  “I forgot about the pussy cat thing. Do you even have showers or baths or do you just lick yourself clean?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

  “Just for that maybe I won’t give you the clothes I ordered. You look better out of them anyhow.”

  “Lawrence!”

  “It’s the truth.” He loved the blush on her cheeks.

  “What smells so good?” she asked, clutching the neck of her robe tight. The modesty amused, given he’d licked most of those intimate inches.

  “I had some food brought up.”

  The joy in her expression made him wish it weren’t for edibles.

  “Where?”

  He stood, but before he could point, she practically ran for the trolley and its covered plates. She snared one heaped with chicken, potatoes, and some kind of creamy sauce served with a vegetable. She used a bun to sop at the juice and devoured it.

  He ate as well, quiet, waiting for her to lead the conversation because he wasn’t sure how to start. It wasn’t until she’d groaned her way through dessert—a frothy concoction laced with sugar and fruit—that she finally found her tongue.

  “That was good.”

  “Only good?”

  “I kind of missed eating with our fingers.” Her gaze went to them, and he hardened.

  Was she also remembering what else those fingers had done? The feel of his mouth on her flesh? “I’m still hungry.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything left.” She glanced at the table then him.

  “Never said I was hungry for food.”

  She inhaled sharply.

  “I guess the question is, am I bad at it?” He arched a brow, a light tease to soften the moment. “You did, after all, claim the reason I never got seconds was because I possibly failed as a lover.”

  The reminder brought a smirk. “Are you still miffed about that? Do you need me to say you were adequate?”

  “Adequate?”

  “Fine, not bad.”

  “You’re killing me here, Peanut.”

  “Would you prefer I tell you that being with you is like being tossed in a storm and emerging from the other side feeling as if you’ve been wrung dry?”

  He stared at her. “Meaning I do suck at it.”

  She laughed. “On the contrary, you are much too good. Good enough that I can’t help myself.” She rose and, biting her lower lip, moved until she stood in front of him. Her cheeks flamed as she said, “Weren’t you the one who said he was too impatient to take me home?”

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “Just wondering if you’re a man of your word.”

  “Sit on my lap and I’ll show you.”

  She straddled him. Her robe split apart, meaning he was inside her within seconds. She rode him, her fingers gripping the chair back, her head leaning back, her wet hair dangling, her body writhing atop him.

  He did his best to rock with her, his flesh squeezed and heated, her flesh welcoming. When she came, he couldn’t help but come with her.

  The pleasure was intense. And already he craved it again. But it could wait until they’d rested was his final thought as she fell asleep in his arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Why did it have to feel so good?

  That was Charlotte’s one regret as she snuck out of the bed with the large sprawled man. Her lover. And according to him, his mate.

  It would be easy and pleasurable to take what he offered. To enjoy the sex. The attention. The feeling that she wasn’t just worthy but loved.

  However, she didn’t need a crystal ball to see they were doomed. Not just because he was a lion and much too pretty for her.

  Everyone kept telling her he wasn’t the type to be satisfied with one woman forever, and she wasn’t foolish enough to believe for one second she could be that woman if such a one existed. Problem being, if she stayed with him, she might start hoping. Already a part of her fluttered whenever he looked at her with that soft expression of his. She craved his touch.

  Best to leave now while she could resist the temptation.

  Just one problem.

  Lawrence caught her as she was about to open the hotel room door. “Where are you going?”

  She wrinkled her nose. She’d hoped to avoid a confrontation. “Leaving, obviously.”

  “And you’ve obviously thought this through. Because the first thing I’m wondering is, what will you do without a wallet or any money?”

  “Bum a ride.” Which was admittedly the biggest flaw in her plan.

  “Bum a ride from a stranger instead of waking me? Are you that desperate to escape?”

  Yes, because the more time she spent with him, the more she downplayed all the reasons why she shouldn’t get involved. “It’s been fun, but you have your own life. I have mine.” Kind of.

  “You can’t just walk away, Peanut. We have unfinished business.”

  “Watch me.” She opened t
he door but failed to walk out as the aunts blocked the door.

  “You ain’t going anywhere,” Lena drawled, pushing her way inside.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  Lacey sounded almost apologetic as she said, “Sorry, dearie, but in this case, she’s absolutely correct. We can’t allow you to leave.”

  “Excuse me? It’s not up to you.”

  “Actually, it is. Pride security,” Lenore declared with a snap of her fingers. “Which means we decide who poses a security threat.”

  “What threat? You’re like twice my size,” Charlotte retorted.

  “That’s just mean,” Lenore declared hotly.

  Lena, the last one to enter, added, “Not Lenore’s fault she has no will power around the dessert bar.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Some of us work out.” Lena flexed.

  Lenore laughed. “Settle it with an arm wrestle?”

  “Can you do that later?” Lacey huffed. “We left a perfectly warm den because of the Charlotte problem.”

  “Ah yes, our nephew’s supposed mate.”

  “No supposed about it,” he said from the spot he’d commandeered on the suite’s couch. “She is mine.”

  “Looks to me like she’s having issues with it,” Lenore pointed out.

  “Then she needs to deal with it,” Lena barked.

  As if she would be cowed by something this important. “Excuse me, but this is my life you’re trying to manipulate. I never agreed to marry your nephew. And if you find me difficult now, see what happens if you try to make me a prisoner.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” Lenore observed, flopping down beside Lawrence. “Here’s the facts. You are in the possession of a certain secret that is very important to us. The only reason you’re still alive is because Roarie wouldn’t like it if we killed you.”

  “Killed me? What the hell is wrong with you?” Charlotte exclaimed. She whirled on Lawrence. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

  “No one is killing you.”

  Her lips pursed. “I won’t be a prisoner.”

  “Then do something about it!” snapped Lena. “Don’t you look at my nephew and expect him to save you. Save yourself.”

  Charlotte’s gaze narrowed. “I tried that. You wouldn’t let me leave.”

  “Because you need to prove you’re not a threat.”

  “How can I do that if you’ve got me locked up?” was her exasperated argument.

  “She’s got a point,” Lawrence observed. He leaned over the coffee table, lit with a menu screen that he was making choices from.

  “Ooh if you’re ordering breakfast, I need some protein. Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. Ham.” Lenore ticked off the items. “No hash browns, though. I’m watching the carbs.”

  “Pastries for me, because some of us don’t have that issue.” Lacey smirked.

  “Order your own breakfast, in your room,” Lawrence ordered. “This is for me and Peanut only.”

  “We can’t leave. She’s a security risk to the Pride, meaning she can’t stray from our sight.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Charlotte breathed. “You can’t stalk me.”

  “We will,” was Lena’s grim proclamation.

  “Until we know we can trust you,” Lacey added with an apologetic shrug.

  “Lawrence?” She turned a questioning gaze on him.

  “Yeah, Lawrence, what you going to do?” taunted Lenore.

  He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “Can this wait until after I’ve eaten?”

  “I think we just got your answer,” was Charlotte’s cold reply. She moved for the door, determined to leave. Would they dare lay hands on her?

  Lacey tried to get in her way. “Sorry, but you can’t go.”

  It was Lena grabbing her arm that made Charlotte snap. “Let go of me.”

  Her sharp rebuke had Lawrence growling. “Unhand her.”

  “I will when she behaves.”

  “Now.” A single menacing syllable that exhaled as he rose from the couch.

  His aunt Lena arched a brow but loosened her grip on Charlotte. “Did you really just sass me?”

  “No one touches my mate.”

  “It’s our job to protect the Pride. She’s a threat,” Lenore pointed out.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone.” No one would believe her.

  “Says you. But then one night you get drunk and start blabbing…” Lena pinched her fingers and thumb, making her hand into a talking mouth. “Then people start theorizing, then we have to pull a few Epsteins…” She shook her head. “When it can all be avoided, right here, right now.”

  The chill in her body was chased as Lawrence drew close. He didn’t touch her, and yet his warmth penetrated. She stepped back against him, unconsciously seeking the closeness. His arm went around her upper body, and he palmed her belly, fingers lightly curled around her waist.

  His voice emerged as a low rumble. “Enough of the threats. Charlotte is none of your concern.”

  “You made it our concern when you accidentally mated her.” Lenore jabbed her finger, but it never got close. He was a shield against the wrath of his aunts.

  “What if it wasn’t an accident? Isn’t the whole purpose of the mating bond finding the right one?”

  “It is. And yet the girl hates you.”

  “I don’t hate him,” Charlotte retorted. She didn’t. Her feelings for him were more complicated than that.

  “But you don’t want to be with him either,” chided Lenore.

  “Give the boy and girl a chance. It’s only been a few days. They’re still in the getting-to-know-each-other stage.” Lacey tried to be the voice of reason. “They need to spend time together, which gives me an awesome idea. I know this great pastry shop where we could have so much fun.”

  Lawrence narrowed his gaze. “Is this shop in your binder?”

  “Don’t be silly, Roarie,” Lacey batted her lashes. “As if I’d resort to a bakery so far from the event.”

  “What event? What binder is he talking about?” Charlotte asked, completely lost.

  “Forget the binder. It’s not important. After breakfast, how about you and I go to your brother’s apartment?”

  He’d no sooner made the offer than Lena was shaking her head, uttering a vehement, “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “You can go after we sweep it and make sure it’s clean.”

  “Clean of what?” Charlotte hotly queried. “How dare you imply I’m dirty!” She bristled, and his hand flattened on her belly, making her aware of him. She glanced up and over her shoulder to see him smiling as he explained.

  “My aunts are worried about listening devices and surveillance.”

  “Oh.” That made more sense. “Who would be listening?”

  “Your brother’s enemies. Ours. We have to be careful.”

  The knock at the door announced room service. Lawrence shooed them out the door while the hotel worker set the tray on the table.

  The aunts tried to converge on it, but Lawrence stood in their way. “Out.”

  “We told you—”

  “Out.” He crossed his arms. “I won’t ask again.”

  “If you’re going to be that way, then fine, we’ll go. For now,” Lenore threatened.

  Before Lena left, she jabbed Lawrence in the chest. “We will trust her in your care, but the minute she opens her mouth and tries to tell anyone…” She dragged a finger over her throat.

  “Love you, too, Auntie,” Charlotte sang.

  “Did she just sass me?” Lena exclaimed. She went marching back in, but Lawrence sidestepped, blocking her.

  “Let’s all have breakfast. I’m sure everyone will feel a little better after some food.”

  The bacon sure did help with Charlotte’s humor, especially since she waved goodbye with a piece. It meant she caught Lacey’s assessing stare and could have sworn she heard the word “veil” muttered.

  Such an odd
trio. Bloodthirsty, too. Which was why the moment the door closed, and they were alone, she asked, “Would they really kill me?”

  “In a half-second.”

  “Seriously?” she huffed. “And you’d let them?”

  “There is no letting them do anything. My aunts are free to do and think what they want.”

  “Even if it involves killing me?”

  “They can try. I didn’t say they’d succeed.” He sat in a chair right next to hers, eschewing the spot across from her to be close enough to drop a hand on her thigh. A sign of affection or possession? A little bit of both that she didn’t mind.

  “They hate me.”

  “Totally understandable. I mean you are mated to their favorite nephew.”

  “Meaning if I mess things up with you, I’m screwed.”

  “Stop worrying about them.”

  “Says the guy who wasn’t threatened.”

  “Listen, if they wanted you dead, you’d already be buried in an unmarked grave somewhere.”

  “Not reassuring,” she snapped.

  “What do you want me to say? They’re protective.”

  “They’re psychopaths.”

  “Not entirely. They do have empathy and care for people, but they also can be quite remorseless when it comes to protecting those they love.”

  “Meaning you’re okay with their behavior.” How could he condone their words and actions?

  “Not exactly, but at the same time, they’re hard to stop once they set their mind on something.”

  “What will you do if they come after me?”

  “I won’t let them kill you.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He sighed. “Because it’s complicated. They’re my only family. They raised me when my parents died.”

  “And haven’t realized yet you’re a grown man.”

  “It’s not just about me. It’s about the Pride.”

  “The what?” They’d said something about pride before, but she got the impression it wasn’t the kind she expected.

  “I belong to the Pride group. My king is Arik.”

  “You have a lion king?” She snickered. “With a son named Simba?”

  “Actually, they have a daughter named Lisa. And that’s not the point. The Pride is everything, and our number one rule is we must always keep it safe.”