His gaze wandered over all the boxes and suitcases. “All this stuff belongs to you?”
“They’re my treasures. I always visit local markets whenever I’m in a new country. Or city. Or…village. That’s a lot of walking, you know. Very healthy.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Put on some gym clothes. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.” He turned on his heel and strode away.
She glared at him and shut the door. Men never understood how important her treasures were to her. Not that they were expensive treasures. Some of them had been incredibly cheap. But each one meant something to her, and she took them everywhere with her.
She opened the nearest box and smiled. “Hello, my darlings.” Her Russian nesting dolls were cradled in a thick woolen sweater she’d bought in Poland. She’d started collecting matryoshkas as a young girl, so she had over a dozen now. She grabbed two of the wooden dolls and set them on an empty bookshelf. Out of all the bedrooms on the first floor, she’d picked this one because of the two empty bookcases that could hold all her treasures.
Five minutes? She winced, remembering Carlos’s demand. That was hardly reasonable. She rushed into the bathroom. No time for a shower. At least she’d taken a bath the night before.
Four minutes later she stood in a lacy bra and panties in front of her open closet, chewing on her bottom lip. Gym clothes? She pushed two evening gowns and three cocktail dresses aside. She’d learned early on at the State Department that she was expected to attend some glamorous functions at the embassies.
Business suits, no. She pushed them to the side. Jeans and T-shirts? She put on a turquoise T-shirt, then moved to the dresser. In her pajama drawer she found a pair of gray boxer shorts. They looked sorta like gym shorts, so she pulled them on and tightened the drawstring around her hips. Carlos had been barefoot, so she’d do that, too.
She ran into the bathroom to brush her hair one more time and add some gloss to her lips. Strawberry flavored, as Carlos would discover if she could manage to get him to kiss her again.
“Hmmph.” She fluffed up her hair. Even if he found a were-panther woman, the old cat might be mangy and decrepit, with a crooked tail and snaggly teeth.
She couldn’t blame him for wanting to discover more of his kind, but marry one of them? That was crazy. Just because a woman was a were-panther didn’t mean she would be automatically compatible with him.
But it wasn’t crazy for him to try to save his species. She sighed. She knew she shouldn’t flirt with him, but it was damned hard to pretend she wasn’t attracted to him, especially when she knew he was attracted to her.
Part of her understood she should respect his wishes to find a were-panther mate, but another part wanted to scream at him that he’d never find anyone as well-suited for him as her. Their kiss had sparked more than a physical response. It had touched her heart with a feeling of completion, much like the strong connection she’d felt toward the girls, Coco and Raquel. How could her feelings for him be wrong when it felt so right?
There was a naughty desire deep inside her to see how far she could push him. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but it was there. A wildly romantic fantasy that he would ache for her so much he’d be willing to toss aside all his concerns just to be with her.
Don’t be selfish, she chided herself. This wasn’t a fantasy where he could fall madly in love with her and everything would magically work out.
Frustration seeped inside her, and along with it came an unfortunate impulse to tease and torment him. It’s not his fault he has to reject you. She would try to make sure their time together was fun. No ill feelings. Maybe a little friendly flirtation would be harmless.
She padded down the carpeted stairs to the kitchen on the ground floor. He was alone at the table, spooning cereal into his mouth.
“You’re late,” he grumbled. “They’ve already gone to their bedrooms.”
She glanced out the kitchen window. “But it’s still dark.”
“As soon as the sun rises, they keel over dead, so they need to be prepared ahead of time.” Carlos sipped some coffee. “Phineas went downstairs to the guardroom. Angus and Emma are in their usual place on the fourth floor.”
Caitlyn poured herself a cup of coffee. “Do they stay here often?”
“Either here or the basement in Romatech, depending on the current level of violence. Things are calm right now, so we’re safe to stay here.” Carlos pointed at an empty bowl on the table across from him. “Have some breakfast.”
She wandered to the table, wrinkling her nose at the cereal he was eating. “What is that? Meow Mix?”
He shot her an annoyed look. “It’s the only cereal in the house. We’ll have to buy some supplies today.” He pointed to a legal pad next to him on the table. “I’m making a list. If there’s anything you want, tell me.”
She set her coffee mug down and poured some cereal into her bowl. “I’ll go the store, if you like. Shopping is my specialty, you know.”
He merely grunted and drank more coffee.
Sourpuss. She stifled a laugh when she realized he really was a puss.
He arched a brow. “Something funny?”
“No.” She hurried to the fridge to fetch some milk. “You’re kidding.” She pulled out the carton. “Full fat?”
“So?” He spooned more cereal into his mouth.
“I’m used to skim.” She splashed a tiny bit into her bowl. “This will taste like cream.” She stifled another laugh. Of course the kitty likes his cream.
He frowned at her. “What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing.” She beamed. “I’m a naturally positive, happy person.” She returned the milk to the fridge. She spun back toward the table and he quickly focused on his cereal bowl, shoveling the last of it into his mouth in a few quick bites.
Her mouth twitched. She’d caught him ogling her rump. “So where’s Lara and Olivia? Are they too busy with their Vamp hubbies to eat breakfast with us?”
Carlos sipped some coffee and avoided looking at her. “They’re gone. They were in town for Tino’s birthday party and now they’re off on new assignments.”
“Oh.” She approached the table and sat across from Carlos. “So we’re the only live ones in the house today?”
“Yes.” He jumped up and took his empty cereal bowl to the sink. “I’ll see you in the basement in five minutes.” He nearly ran out the door.
Caitlyn smiled as she wrapped her hands around her warm coffee mug. This was going to be fun.
It was living hell.
She had hoped to have a little flirtatious fun, but Carlos was all business.
After going downstairs to the basement, she discovered him in a large game room standing next to a billiards table. With a slow smile she sashayed up to him. “Do you want to shoot pool?”
“No.” He motioned to the table where he’d laid out a variety of knives, wooden stakes, and swords. There was also a burlap mannequin stuffed with straw resting on top of the table. “This is our pretend vampire—a vicious Malcontent who wants to kill you.”
Caitlyn made a face at the straw-filled dummy. “Igor.”
“Excuse me?”
“I named him Igor.”
“Fine.” Carlos handed her a wooden stake. “You’ve discovered Igor in his death-sleep. Take this stake and drive it through his heart.”
She fingered the stake. “What if he’s not a Malcontent? What if he’s a double agent pretending to be a Malcontent? I would need to thoroughly investigate him first.”
“Your investigation is over. This vampire’s not a double agent. He has to die.”
“Isn’t he, by definition, already dead?”
Carlos’s jaw shifted as he ground his teeth. “He’ll wake from his death-sleep and rip your head off. The only way you can survive is to kill him now.”
“Okay, okay.” She pointed the tip of the stake where she estimated his heart would be and gave him a little poke. “There. That’ll teach him.”
> Carlos gave her an incredulous look. “You didn’t even break the skin. I’ve seen mosquitoes do more damage than that.”
“I’m not a violent person, okay? With my special language skills, I’ve always relied on communication to—”
“Stab him!”
“All right!” She grimaced and raised the stake above the dummy’s chest. Still, she hesitated. The thought of actually plunging a sharp object into a body was so grotesque.
“He thinks you look fat in those shorts.”
“Aagh!” She stabbed him, then gasped and jerked her hand away. “Oh my gosh.” She stepped back, staring at the embedded stake.
“Not violent, huh?” Carlos smirked.
She glared at him. “Don’t push me.”
With a chuckle, he yanked the stake out of the dummy. “Now you can learn how to fight a Malcontent who’s awake.”
She crossed her arms, frowning. “Emma said I would be helping with investigations. They don’t expect me to jump into a fight with the Malcontents. They have warriors for that.”
He scoffed. “If a group of Malcontents attack, do you think they’ll leave you alone because you’re mortal and didn’t sign up for the fight? You’ll be our weakest link. They’ll attack you first.”
She gulped. “But the Vamps would be there to protect me, right?”
“They would try, but if they’re fighting for their own survival, you could be on your own.” He fitted a hangman’s noose around the mannequin’s neck, then climbed onto a chair to attach the end of the noose to a pulley attached to the ceiling.
He jumped to the floor, then set the chair against the wall. “Now Igor is awake and moving.” Carlos pulled on a rope, and the mannequin rose in the air. “Take the stake and kill him.”
She picked up the wooden stake and slowly approached Igor.
“You’d better be quick,” Carlos warned her as he jerked repeatedly on the rope, making Igor dance. “If he gets his hands on your neck, he’ll rip your head off.”
Again with the head ripping. Caitlyn grimaced and held up the stake. She bent her knees in time with the bouncing Igor. It was a bit like jumping rope, Double Dutch style. She’d been good at that as a young girl. It was all about timing.
She waited as he descended to the bottom of his bounce, then pounced, ramming the stake into his straw body.
“Got him!” She jumped back, grinning.
Igor grew still. Carlos winced.
Her smile faded. “I—I think you must have pulled him up a little quicker than I anticipated.” Poor Igor had a massive stake embedded in his groin.
“Please tell me you were aiming at his chest.”
“Of course I was.” She shrugged. “At least now he can’t father any evil Malcontent babies.”
“He never could. Vampires are infertile. All you’ve done is piss Igor off. He’ll make a grab for you and—”
“Rip my head off, I know.”
Carlos arched a brow at her, then retrieved the chair and released Igor from the pulley. “The best way to survive a vampire attack is to never let them get too close.”
“’Cause they’ll rip my head off,” she muttered.
“Exactly.” He hung Igor up against the far wall. “If you can throw a knife and hit him in the heart, you can avoid hand-to-hand combat. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
She stepped back as Carlos selected a vicious looking knife off the billiard table. He took aim and threw. The knife spun through the air, and thwack! It pierced Igor right through his straw heart.
“That would turn him to dust.” Carlos jogged up to the mannequin and ripped the knife out.
“Is stabbing them in the heart the only way to stop them? It seems so violent.” She gave him a playful smile. “Have you tried economic sanctions?”
He snorted, then walked back toward her. “You can set them on fire, burn them with sunlight, or cut their heads off.”
“Sounds like fun,” she muttered.
He handed her the knife. “Your turn.”
She gripped the handle and reared her hand back. It had to be like throwing a softball. Unfortunately, she’d never been good at that.
“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist. “You’re holding it too tight. Relax.” He loosened her fingers.
Tingles spread from her fingers and up her arm. She drew in a sharp breath as her heart began to pound.
His eyes met hers briefly, then he let go and stepped back. “Throw. Throw it hard. Turn Igor into dust.”
“Okay.” She reared back, then threw the knife hard. It arched in the air, then plummeted to the floor with a clatter halfway to Igor. She winced. “I…missed.”
Carlos was silent a moment. “Is that as hard as you can throw?”
“I don’t really know. I stopped throwing things at people when I was two.”
He retrieved another knife from the table. “Try again.”
She gave it all she had, but the knife clattered onto the floor a few inches from the first.
“You don’t have any upper body strength,” he muttered. “Do you ever do push-ups?”
She gave him a flirtatious smile. “Of course. There’s nothing sexier than a Wonder Bra.”
His gaze dipped briefly to her breasts and his jaw ticked. “Come on.” He motioned for her to follow as he strode toward the fallen knives. He picked them up and handed her one.
“Try again.” He stepped back.
She flung the knife. It spun nicely toward Igor but hit his chest with the handle and clanged to the floor.
“Not bad.” He handed her the second knife. “Put more power into it.”
“Agh!” She threw the knife with every bit of strength she could muster. It flew toward Igor, and thwack! “I did it!” She turned to Carlos, grinning.
The stunned look on his face made her glance back at Igor. She winced.
Carlos gave her a wary look. “I’m detecting a certain pattern here.” He walked over to Igor and yanked the knife out of his groin.
“I really was aiming at his chest.”
Carlos snorted, then picked the second knife off the floor. “I was going to do fencing next, but I can guess how that would end.”
She frowned. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like Igor needs his equipment.”
“You would be fencing against me.” Carlos walked toward her, his eyes gleaming. “And I definitely need my equipment.”
Her heartbeat raced as he came closer and closer. He stopped just an inch away from her.
“Down on the floor,” he whispered.
Chapter Twelve
H e was playing with fire but couldn’t resist. She looked so damned hot with her hair loose about her shoulders, her long bare legs, and her tight little T-shirt that moved with every breath she took. Her face was flushed with exertion. And something else—desire.
It hung heavy in the narrow space between them, seeking to pull them together like a magnet. He’d made the mistake once of kissing her. It had taken all his strength to step back and resist taking more.
And now she was slowly lowering herself to her knees in front of him. His groin tightened as she reached eye level with his white karate pants. Merda, why was he torturing himself? He wanted her. She wanted him. She’d practically begged him to kiss her last night. If the damned cameras hadn’t been on, he might have succumbed.
From the minute he first laid eyes on Caitlyn, he’d been gripped with a desperate desire, and it was only getting worse with each day. Take her. On the floor. Now.
He clutched his hands into fists. It was wrong. He couldn’t take pleasure from her when he had no intention of staying with her. His future had been decided long ago during the Summer of Death.
He gritted his teeth. “Give me twenty.”
Her eyes widened. “Twenty?” She glanced warily at his pants. “You must have awfully good stamina.”
Hot blood rushed to his groin, causing him to swell. He stepped back. “Twenty push-ups.”
“Oh.” She made
a face. “There’s no way I can do twenty of those.”
“Then you need to do them every day until you can.” He motioned with his hand. “Come on. Get started.”
“Okay.” She balanced herself on her hands and toes with her arms locked straight. She bent her elbows and descended toward the floor. Halfway there her arms shook and she collapsed onto the floor. “Okay, that’s one.”
“One-half,” he muttered. “Try doing it on your knees.”
She snorted. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” With a groan, she lifted herself up.
“Your body should make a flat line. You’re sticking your rump in the air.” He leaned over and gave her rear end a light slap.
“Hey!” She glared at him over her shoulder. Before she turned away, a mischievous look gleamed in her eyes. She collapsed onto the floor. “That’s two.”
“One and a half. And you’re supposed to control your descent.”
She lifted herself up again, pushing back to stick her rump out even more. She glanced at him with an expectant look.
Naughty little minx. “You want to be spanked?”
Her mouth twitched. “Do you?”
He groaned. “You can finish on your own later.”
“My life story,” she muttered as she rose to a standing position.
He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her. Stop playing with fire. He needed to stick to business.
“I’d better check on the Vamps.” He strode toward the basement dormitory where Phineas was sleeping. “I have to check on them every few hours to make sure they’re okay.”
“What could go wrong?” She followed him into the dark dormitory. “Aren’t they dead during the day?”
“Yes.” He flipped on the lights. “This is just a precaution.”
“In case of what? Can they grow more dead?”
“In case someone manages to sneak into the house undetected to do them harm.” He scanned the large room. It was mostly empty now, just a few twin-sized beds. “When I first started working here, there were a few Highlander guards, and they slept in coffins down here.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” He walked toward Phineas’s bed. “Angus had the coffins removed. If anyone in law enforcement was to present us with a search warrant, the coffins would have been hard to explain.”
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