by Leo, Rosanna
As she considered the differences between the two sets of parents, a few tears dribbled out from between her lids and down her nose.
He wiped her wet face. “Hey, little lynx.” His deep voice rumbled. “I don’t want your tears. I’m fine now.” He swallowed. “Please, cicuskám. I don’t ever want to be the cause of your tears.”
She looked at him, all bleary-eyed and dribbly, and saw him smiling at her with the gentlest expression. “Aren’t you ever going to tell me what cicuskám means?”
“Not if I value my sanity, Marci.”
He stared at her for a moment more, and then brushed his large fingers all over her cheek, in a caress that made her dream the wildest dreams. His warm breath washed over her as he breathed deeply, and she was giddy, drinking him in. Everything about his smell and touch appealed to her on a level she’d never anticipated. And his taste … she couldn’t stop wondering about his taste.
Clearly, he was wondering too. Anton brought his face closer to hers, and their clutch seemed even tighter as the boat gently rocked them. There, on a simple fishing boat on Lake Gemini, the tiger shifter prince opened his mouth and flared his nostrils. She did the same, inhaling him like a cat would.
And then he kissed her. Their open lips met and mingled with the perfection of two halves coming together. Perfect symmetry. Each soft press feeling like velvet alignment, tender crushes that made her swoon.
But then his tongue flicked against hers, and his hands slid down to her ass, dragging her closer, and her dream kiss took on a passionate, new edge.
She could swear his tiger growled.
Her lynx performed a frenzied dance of sheer delight, clambering closer to him, pushing up against her insides, wanting a piece of him for her own.
He tasted so good.
Anton angled his head, groaning, and plunged his tongue into her mouth, taking her in a savage kiss she felt in her toes. Each hair on her head seemed to stand on end as he pinned her against his hard body, giving her what she’d wanted from the first moment she spied him in the resort lobby. His kiss, so demanding and ruthless, thrilled and chilled her while heating her through at the same time. Their tongues tangled and she allowed her hands to maraud over his wide chest, relishing each hardened curve of muscle.
By the time he nibbled her bottom lip, Marci knew she’d invite him back to her cabin. She needed him inside her like she needed water and air.
It was then she heard the ring of her cell phone in her hip pocket. They fell apart on a breath and his eyes were as wide as hers must be. Dumbfounded, she stared at him and her phone rang again. He grinned and ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “You’d better get that.”
She swallowed in an attempt to assuage her dry throat and answered the call. “Marci, here.” She listened to her coworker on the other line, trying hard to ignore the way Anton stroked between the fingers of her free hand. “I’ll be right there.”
As she ended the call, he looked up from under his ebony lashes. “Duty calls.”
She stared at her cell phone, wanting to toss it in the water. “Yeah. One of the guests wants to complain to the manager. It seems our only vegan customer ever was just handed a thick, bleeding steak for lunch.”
He let out a hearty laugh. “A vegan shifter? What the fuck is that all about?”
She let out a halfhearted giggle. “I really don’t know.” With a sigh that racked her chest, she gazed at him. “Thanks, Anton. For talking to me.”
His eyes darkened with the same need they’d held when he’d kissed her. His lips twitched into a mischievous curl. “For a moment, I thought you were thanking me for kissing you.” He leaned in, bit his bottom lip, and stared at her mouth.
How she wanted to suck that lip out of his mouth and into hers. Before her common sense eroded completely, she made a flustered exit out of the boat. As she slipped into her pumps, she was conscious of Anton’s gaze following her every move. Before she started to analyze the mire of her emotions, she headed back to the lodge, turning once to look at him.
He hadn’t moved. Still seated on the boat bench, elbows on his knees, Anton stared at the horizon. Slowly, he shook his head and his large body sagged under the weight of invisible pressure.
Chapter 6
That evening, once Anton was done with his mentoring duties, he went looking for his brother. It had been a few hours since he’d touched base with Gabi and he wanted to make sure his sibling wasn’t causing trouble for Marci’s staff. As much as he knew Gabi appreciated Marci’s offer of a place to stay, he also knew he preferred the high life. They might ridicule Istvan’s abuse of his privileges, but some of the same tendencies ran through Gabi. Hell, they probably ran through him too. Growing up the way they had, one took certain things for granted. And even though their family life had been no better than a treacherous minefield, they’d always enjoyed the finest of luxuries at home.
A Gaspar’s just deserts, his father used to say.
What had they done to deserve any of their wealth and power? They’d simply been born into the “right” family, a family with a long-standing name. Nothing more.
After experiencing some of the simpler pleasures on Gemini Island, he wanted to stay here forever. Waking up to singing robins outside his cabin window had become a new delight. Diving into Lake Gemini first thing in the morning, shaking off his cobwebs with a bracing dip in cold water, was a ritual he was growing to love. He wanted to leave his former, jaded lifestyle behind forever.
Especially if his new lifestyle came with more of Marci’s kisses.
As his tiger roared its approval, he fought the urge to smack his head. What was he thinking? How could he have forgotten his willpower, kissing her like that? Brother Ferenc would be so disappointed in him.
Damn. He was beginning to think that little monk suffered from feeblemindedness. Stupid, praying, celibate monks. What the hell did they know anyway?
No. Ferenc was right. He needed to regain his composure and restraint. He needed to exercise a modicum of control and dominate his desires.
Even though what he really wanted was to dominate her. To have her spread out on a bed, while he orchestrated their passion… Fuck.
Perhaps because since her voyeur moment at his window he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head, hadn’t slept. Hell, since first setting foot in the Ursa Lodge, he’d been consumed with her scent and the need to make her as unsettled as he was. Seeing her like that, exposed and vulnerable, had an imprisoning effect on him, and he was reeling with the need to regain footing, in whatever small way.
He wasn’t accustomed to feeling at a loss of power to a woman. Even in his other relationships with females, he’d always been the one in command. He preferred it that way, and relished being the one who called the shots. And at the monastery, there’d been no women at all, unless one counted the biddies who brought flowers to the church. They hadn’t exactly been the sort to stoke a man’s fire.
And yet, seeing Marci, her dainty hand stroking her sex, flooding his senses with the need to rut, had made him want to beg. Even now, in his human form, he found it hard not to act the tiger. It took everything in his power not to wrinkle his nose as his tiger would, let his tongue hang out, and drink in her scent.
Shit, he knew she was delicious, even though he hadn’t tasted her pussy. Damn Jacobson’s organ, making him taste everything he smelled. He’d never minded this aspect of being a feline, but he regretted it now.
Fuming, he turned a corner on his path, and headed toward Gabi’s cabin. As he did, some movement over to his left caught his eye. With a discreet turn of his head, he glimpsed Shawn Dixon loitering outside one of the cabins. Surly as ever, the teen leaned against the wooden frame of the structure, arms eternally crossed. He jumped when the door opened and two teen girls emerged, laughing at a private joke. They took one look at Shawn, sneered, and went on their way. With a dejected hang to his head, Shawn started to stumble off in the opposite direction.
Anton cau
ght up to him. “Shawn. How are you tonight?”
“What do you care, old man?”
He struggled not to roll his eyes. He was only thirty, but knew teens considered any adult to be elderly and feeble of mind. “Are you going to the teen mixer later?”
Shawn had no issue with rolling his own eyes. “Right. See, thing is,” he remarked slowly, “I’d rather gouge my eyes out.”
Anton bit his lip, amused at the kid’s attempt at sarcasm. He’d always appreciated a good sense of sarcasm. “Well, you might want to change out of that white T-shirt. I once watched my youngest brother gouge out a man’s eyes. It’s messier than you think.”
The teen paled and took a step back, his gaze pinned on Anton’s bulk. For a moment, he seemed worried, as if his mentor might actually demonstrate proper eye gouging technique. His expression then softened and reluctant admiration shone through his narrowed eyes. “You’re one sick dude, Mr. Gaspar. I’d better come to that mixer, you know, just to keep an eye on you.”
“Very good idea.” He nodded. “I’ll see you there.”
Anton saluted the kid and continued on his way to Gabi’s abode. He made a mental note to seek the boy out again for a longer talk. He’d break his walls down, so help him.
He turned a corner on his path and approached Gabi’s cabin. The door opened, and a giggling waitress from the resort’s pub stepped out. As she exited, his brother smiled and smacked her ass. The girl jumped, giggled harder, and escaped down another path.
Anton let out a breath as he marched toward his very satisfied-looking sibling. “Already corrupting the locals, I see?”
Gabi shrugged. “I’m beginning to like these Gemini Island girls. They make an art out of pleasing their customers and making others feel good.” He stared at the retreating waitress’s ass. “That one felt especially good. I’ve never had a fox shifter before. I might need to become her pen pal after I go home.”
“We need to talk about that. About going home.”
Gabi stared hard at him, and then ushered him into his cabin. As Anton took a seat on a chair, Gabi paced. “You know I can’t leave yet. Istvan’s hounds will be on me before I get off the plane.”
“I’m not suggesting you do. But we need to decide how to tackle this issue. Together.”
The lines around Gabi’s mouth sagged and he took a seat on the edge of his rumpled bed. “Things have changed since you were last at home, Anton. Those who supported us have slowly begun to disappear. No one wants to live in Istvan’s world, but no one will say so. Those who were friendly to us have escaped, some as far as Romania and Austria. I watched many of them leave myself. Some begged me to join them. I kept deluding myself things would improve, that Father would one day see sense and banish our brother.” He stared at the carpet as if it were the dismal face of their parent. “I don’t know why I bothered.”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone there. I should never have gone to the monastery.”
“I understand why you did. Don’t you think the nightmares haunt me too? The need for revenge runs deep in me as well. It’s amazing I didn’t kill our father. You had no choice. You didn’t want to be in a position where you might be tempted to hurt someone. I know how much it bothered you to think you might kill the Grand Prince for what he did to us.” Shadows turned his green eyes almost black. “No, you were wise. I should have followed you to that place.” He chuckled quietly. “If they’d allowed in some girls, I would have.”
Anton couldn’t fake a smile. “If we do go home, when we do go home, you realize it will be a fight to the death.”
Gabi searched his gaze. “Just what Father always trained us for.”
For a long time, they just stared at each other, and Anton could swear they were boys again. Trapped in a cage with their vicious brother, just as desperate to get out as they were to please their unappeasable father. “Well,” he mumbled. “For now, we stay here until we devise a plan. Our people don’t want Istvan in charge. You deserve the honor.”
“But you are the eldest son. By rights, the position should go to you.”
Anton dismissed the notion with a wave. “I would have to think long and hard about it. I’ve never had an interest in becoming the kende. It’s one of the reasons I left. But at the same time, I hate the idea of our people floundering under Istvan’s rule. They deserve better. They deserve someone who will always have their interests at heart.” He considered the idea of becoming Grand Prince. Did he really want to live that life? After so many years of refusing his heritage, he was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong. “No, Gabi, you should take over.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
“Well, whatever you decide, it must be your choice. You must write your own history.”
“I know. And we’ll settle this somehow. I don’t want you returning to a Budapest in chaos. For now, just try to relax and reach out to anyone you think might still be loyal. And in the meantime, try not to sleep with too many waitresses, okay? For the time being, at least, this is my workplace and I like it here.”
Gabi’s shoulders lifted in a scornful laugh, no doubt at the thought of him working at all. “I’ll try to be good, brother, but I make no promises. Once a Gaspar, always a Gaspar. There are aspects of the family philosophy that still appeal to me.”
Anton grinned, but then turned away as he considered the troubling implications of that statement. He knew full well his family legacy haunted him too. His behavior with Marci in the boat just proved it.
He’d be certain not to repeat it.
Sadly, the heart-stopping kiss featured in almost every thought as he headed toward his cabin for the night. To say nothing of the way it colored his dreams.
* * * *
The next morning, Anton awoke in a resolved mood. He would seek Marci out first thing, and let her know their kiss was a mistake. He couldn’t have her dreaming up a relationship for them when one was not possible. He would stick to the plan conceived for him by kind Brother Ferenc at Pannonhalma.
His tiger snarled. That pious idiot has never seen a woman like her. He wouldn’t know what to do with her. But I do.
Dressing in a hurry, he ignored the beast inside him. Go to hell, tiger.
I am already there, ingrate.
Knowing Marci would likely be circling the front desk, he marched through the woods to the lodge. Normally, he would have taken note of the beautiful amber-colored leaves on the trees, and might have taken time to breathe in the fresh Ontario woodland air. Today, he had time for none of these things, not when he needed to persuade Marci their strange liaison could never progress.
She was right where he expected her to be, wearing another one of her cute businesswoman suits that fit her to a delicious T. As she stepped around the counter to retrieve a fallen paper, he admired the way the navy suit hugged her every curve. Once again, the sight of her shapely legs under her skirt made him hard, and the way the jacket nipped in at her waist made him want to grab her right there and devour her.
Surely this penance would kill him. How long would jacking off satisfy him? Hell, it didn’t satisfy him now. At the monastery it had gotten him through the night, but since meeting Marci, strangely enough it only made him hotter for her.
His tiger aimed its glowing gaze at her, drooling like the animal it was. Swallowing his own suddenly plentiful saliva, Anton approached the desk.
Before he could pull her aside, the phone in front of her rang. He watched, tapping his foot with impatience while she answered. As she listened to the other person, she looked at him and acknowledged him with a shy smile.
Damn, that smile did things to him. It sent planets and stars hurtling through his sky.
Her face fell. As a message was relayed to her, her hand flew to her mouth. The healthy glow to her skin faded and she turned white. Just as she looked ready to fall, Anton stepped behind the counter and gripped her upper arm.
What the hell
was going on and who was distressing her like this?
He didn’t have time to contemplate the matter. She ended the call, asked a coworker to cover her, and looked at him.
“I have to go.”
Anton followed as she shuffled out of the lodge. As soon as she was outside, she kicked off her high heels and picked them up. And then she ran like hell.
He tried to get some information out of Marci as she ran, barefoot, to the other side of the resort. As he chased her, he spied the bottoms of her feet getting blacker and blacker with dirt. A twinge of tenderness pinged inside him as he mused about getting her into a bathtub full of bubbles and hot water and cleaning her feet for her. Shaking his head, he dismissed the tantalizing imagery, knowing something was seriously wrong.
She didn’t say a word. Not that it mattered. He could see from her pinched face and nervous furrows on her brow the news hadn’t been good.
As his heart went out to the little lynx, he prayed the bad news she’d received wasn’t of a personal nature.
They darted toward the woods, past Ursa’s Muzzle and toward a network of caves deep in the forest. Marci, her hair blowing behind her like a sorrel veil, moved as if she was born to run. Out of respect, he kept behind her, even though he could have overtaken her.
As they delved deeper into the woods, he smelled it: blood. Shifter blood.
Dear God, let the hare girl be safe.
They passed a patch of thick oaks and came upon a small group of staff members from the lodge. Connor and Lloyd from security were all there, as was Killian. They were huddled around a bleeding woman on the ground. It wasn’t April.
It was Charlotte. Her eyes fluttered, no doubt due to the pain caused by the huge bite mark on the back of her neck. Anton stopped moving and breathed in.
At least, he smelled no death. He took a moment to lock all his senses on her wound, doing a visual triage. The lacerations were messy but looked worse than they were. A strong shifter like her would heal, he could see, but a few more seconds with her attacker would have proven her downfall. He got the sense the mauling had been interrupted. Her clothing was ripped but still on her body. With his keen eyes, he could see blood under her fingernails. Thank God the wolf woman had tried to fight back.