by Thorne, Elle
The sound of the door opening, then closing with a soft click, caught her attention. Probably Monica, here to check on Ms. Claudette. She wanted to thank Monica for making special allowances for the old woman.
Natalya turned around.
Lézare.
She bit back a gasp.
He glanced at Ms. Claudette, then turned his piercing gaze back to Natalya. “You have to stop leaving me.” His words were soft.
“You knew…”
“That it was you?” He stepped closer. “I did, chère.”
“And you don’t hate me?”
“Hate you?” That came from Ms. Claudette, but it was Allynne’s voice.
Natalya’s attention snapped back to the older woman and the being that lived within her.
This was far too complicated. How would she even begin to explain it? And…
Oh, god.
Ms. Claudette had connections to Lézare. Natalya would have to tell him about that.
“Of course he doesn’t hate you,” Allynne continued. “He’s your mate. He’s the one for you.”
* * *
Lézare had followed Natalya’s scent deep into the homeless shelter. The hunter’s block she’d taken had worn off, and the worry and fear in her scent was like a beacon, leading him straight to her.
Why was she worried? What was she afraid of?
He stopped in front of a door.
Infirmary, the sign said.
That was where Natalya’s scent stopped. She was behind the paint-chipped, frosted glass door. He took the handle in hand and turned it gently, then slipped into the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click.
Once inside, Lézare took a moment to study the old woman in the bed. Her brown eyes, wide and deep-set, remained glued on him. A blue flash appeared in their depths, and his mind immediately flew to Mae. The old woman had an elemental in her.
What are the odds of encountering two elementals after having gone an entire lifetime without meeting a single one?
He thought of the gust of wind and the thunder.
He turned his gaze to Natalya and drank her in. She was still beautiful, even with dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep, even wearing a dress that was badly wrinkled and sweat-stained after a long, long drive.
The lush fabric clung to her curves, making it difficult for him to look away. Mon dieu, his emotions for this white tigress were out of control.
His tiger roared in disagreement, announcing that his feelings for her were exactly what they should be.
The sound of a throat clearing pulled him away from his thoughts, and just in time, because he couldn’t guarantee that his body wasn’t going to respond to the emotions that Natalya stirred in him.
Natalya’s head snapped in his direction. Her eyes wide, shocked to see him there.
“You know,” the voice said from the older woman’s body. “You know what I am.”
He knew it wasn’t the older woman. The voice was too young, too otherworldly.
“I do,” he told the elemental.
“This is Ms. Claudette,” Natalya said. “And Allynne.” She paused. “Allynne, why do you say that?” Natalya’s face was crimson.
“Because it’s true, chère. You don’ deny it, do you? Let’s not beat around the bush.”
“I—I’m—”
The Natalya he knew had never stuttered or failed to find words. Nor had she ever blushed like this. Sure, he’d seen her face turn red in anger, but this was different; a shell-pink color kissed her cheeks.
“She’s related to you, you know.”
Natalya slapped her hand over her own mouth. The words seemed blurted. Clearly she hadn’t planned that exclamation.
Lézare quirked a brow. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the idea that the old woman lying in that bed was related to him. That was not possible. “Who is?”
Natalya said, “Ms. Claudette.”
He frowned. He didn’t believe she would deceive him. He could see conviction in her eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” That was the voice of Allynne. She continued, “She knew Celine Arceneaux.”
He held back a reaction. “Celine has been dead for many years now. She wasn’t a shifter, though she bonded with Étienne, who was.”
“And Claudette was but a little girl when she met Celine. I should know. I was there.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “How long have you been with her?” he asked Allynne.
“Since before she was born. I joined with Claudette while she was still in her mother’s womb. Her mother was an octoroon who gave her child away. Claudette grew up in the Asile de la Enfant, an orphanage started a few years before the Civil War began.”
“And how did she meet my great-great-grandmother?”
“Celine used to go to the orphanage as a volunteer, after she and Étienne were wed, much to the chagrin of her father, who didn’t understand why she couldn’t give her time to more worthy causes than the abandoned children of the quadroons and octoroons who were kept by gentlemen in New Orleans’ respectable society.”
He knew it was true, but he had to verify. “And why did Celine volunteer there?”
“Because of Étienne. Because of all he’d been through.”
It was true. All of it. She had to be one of theirs. How did she end up here? Lézare had more questions. The historian in him wanted to probe and pry, but right now, he had something far more important to handle: the spirited blonde who kept vanishing from his life.
“Will you excuse us?” He was actually aiming the question at the old woman more than the one who dwelled within her. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted these beings.
I need to talk to Mae about this.
He reached for Natalya’s hand. “I’d like a moment with you.”
She’d been sitting by, watching them silently, a question in her eyes.
She nodded. “Ms. Claudette, I’ll be back. Allynne, do take care of her. And don’t do anything to worry me.” Natalya’s voice was stern.
Chapter Fifteen
Natalya was still in state of shock, first at seeing Lézare, then at Allynne’s statement that she and Lézare were fated to be together. Now, at the story that was unfolding.
She looked at Lézare’s outstretched hand and put her own on top of it. His hand enveloped hers, covering it completely as he held it. A tingle began where their fingers met and traveled up her arm and throughout her body.
She bit her lip. Why was she so afraid?
Because he’ll hate me.
“A visit?” he was asking again. “I’d like to talk to you. Uninterrupted.”
“Yes. I know a place.” Her father had a pontoon boat on Lake Travis. She could have them there in thirty minutes.
“I’ll drive,” he said, and held the door open for her.
The sun was well up. It had been just after dawn when she’d arrived. She let him hold the door for her and gave him directions. He drove in silence, his eyes glued to the road.
Natalya glanced at his profile now and then. She checked out his handsome face, his high cheekbones and short dark hair; the way his hands held the wheel with complete confidence; the way the muscles stood out on his thighs when he switched from the brake to the gas pedal. She memorized everything, every single little detail, because she was certain that no matter what Allynne had said about them, he would be gone from her life once again.
Finally, they arrived at the dock. He parked, got out, and held the door open for her.
“This is it?” He pointed to the Marguerite.
“Yes. Named for my mother.” She dug in her purse for the keys. “Unless you wanted to be somewhere else? My father’s house? A restaurant? You said you wanted privacy…”
“This is fine.” His smile reached his eyes, crinkling the corners.
She slipped her heels off so she could get on the boat. He took her hand and helped her up and over the side. Then he followed her.
Natalya cringed at the mention of Vax, thinking of her childish antics in Dallas. “I spent a lot of time in Europe. It seems I was too much of a handful. My father sent me to a private school after my mother was gone.”
“No doubt you raised a little Cain there.”
Natalya didn’t want to respond for fear he’d start to dwell on her behavior with Vax.
God, that seems like a million years ago.
Natalya unlocked the door of the cabin and slipped inside, opening two of the blinds that faced the water, still affording them some privacy but giving them light and a view of the beautiful lake.
She waved her arms around the place, as if she were a game show hostess. “We’re here. Privacy.” Now what?
He was watching her. The muted morning sunlight made his eyes darker and yet at the same time emphasized the amber glow of his tiger flashing in their depths. “I should spank you for leaving me in the lurch.”
A shiver ran through her body. “You’ve threatened that before.”
“I recall. Does the idea repel you?”
More like, excite me. “I had to leave the ball. I got a text saying that Ms. Claudette was in a bad way.”
“I understand why you had to leave. But not the way it was handled. You should have come and talked to me.”
“Lézare, how could I? After my behavior with you all those months ago? After my behavior with your cousin… your family.” She felt the pinprick of tears and blinked them back.
“Say that again.” He put a thumb on her bottom lip, his fingers holding her chin.
Say what again, that I’m sorry? “What is it you want me to say?”
“My name.” He leaned lower.
His face approached hers in what felt like slow motion. Her breath was trapped in her lungs. He kissed her slowly, his tongue making languid swipes in her mouth, claiming her, taking her, not asking permission. He broke contact with her mouth, pulling away just the slightest bit, his flesh emanating a warmth that filled her body with sensations she had never experienced before.
“Say it. I love the way you say it.”
She’d never said it aloud, not to him, not to anyone, though it was a sound that she’d savored when she was alone, saying his name so many times that she would have willed his presence next to her if she had any magical powers.
“Lézare.” It was like a caress on her tongue, like an embrace to her lips.
“Natalya.” His voice was like nectar, making the way he said her name equal to a lover’s touch. The southern lilt melded with the slight patois, an accent she’d come to associate only with him.
“What she said was true, you know.” His words caressed her heart, soothed her soul, and filled a part of her that had been hollow.
She fought to breathe, to concentrate, so consumed was she by her desire for this man, for the way he pulled her into a place that felt like she was alone in the eye of a hurricane, but with a spotlight shining on her.
“Who?” She barely managed to get the word out.
“Allynne. What she said about us.” He pulled back, his gaze lancing straight to her soul. “You don’ deny it, do you?”
Natalya licked her lip nervously, then sucked it into her mouth and chewed on it. It’s my dream. She couldn’t say that, though. “I’m going to give Ms. Claudette a home.”
Now, where the hell did that come from?
She hadn’t planned to tell him. She hadn’t even made a plan yet—not fully, just a nebulous idea of what she wanted and didn’t want for Ms. Claudette. What she didn’t want was for that wonderful lady to be in a homeless shelter for the rest of her days.
“I can’ let you do that.” He lowered himself into a chair and tugged on her hand, pulling her onto his lap.
For some reason it felt exactly right to be in his lap, just as it had felt perfectly right to be in his arms dancing last night.
Was it just last night? Why did it feel like so much more time had passed?
Then the words he’d just said hit her. “You can’t let me do what?”
“Ms. Claudette. She should be with us. With family.”
An overwhelming sadness took hold of her. The pinpricks returned. This meant she wouldn’t be able to see Ms. Claudette, but at least she’d be happy, and surrounded by those who would love her.
Those who hate me.
His sisters.
“You’re right. She belongs with family.” She fought the hot tears that threatened and looked out the window, watching a flock of birds as they surrounded a tall tree on the banks of a cove, and kept herself from glancing at him because it hurt her physically to look at him, to know she couldn’t be with him. Not given the way his family would hate her, even if he seemed attracted to her.
“And you?”
“I’ll miss her, but I’ll be happy for her.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His hand was back, tilting her to face him. “Are you going to deny what we have?”
“Lézare.” She swallowed hard, trying to bury the bitterness and sorrow of knowing that she wouldn’t have him—couldn’t have him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, chère?” His thumb touched her tear, then traced the path it had taken.
“The way I behaved, toward you, your family. Vax. I can’t blame them for hating me.”
“They don’ hate you.”
“Ha.” She couldn’t help the smile she felt growing on her lips. “Who are you kidding? I’d hate me. I do hate who I used to be.”
“I thought you were a sexy spitfire. Angry at the world. Why were you so angry? What made that anger go away?”
“Maybe because my mother left me. Then my father shipped me off to Europe…” She turned her head out of his grasp, immediately missing the warmth of his fingers. “Really, that’s no excuse. There is no excuse for my behavior.”
“You’ve changed.” He regained his hold on her chin and turned her face toward his once more.
“For the better, I hope.”
“I won’ say I didn’ want the woman I met, all those months ago. I did. The tiger in me… he’s been relentless about it, too, almost as much as I have been.”
Natalya searched his eyes. How could he have wanted her back then? She waited for him to continue, wondering if the blade would fall, if the other shoe would drop.
“This woman you’ve become, though…”
His eyes held her captive, the golden flame she occasionally saw roaring to life in the depths of that darkness.
Chapter Sixteen
All the breath in her body abandoned her. Her heart pounded. Her tongue traced her bottom lip in anticipation. His thumb ran across it, following her thumb, capturing the lingering moisture.
His mouth lowered in a hard kiss, one that was very different from the tender dance their tongues had engaged in earlier. His tongue snaked in and took hers with an animal dominance. He tasted like freedom and sin, captivity and innocence, all at the same time. The raw ultimatum in his kiss resulted in a searing pulse that flowed through her body, and awakened her own tigress with a fury that matched his tiger’s.
Need overwhelmed her, causing her to touch his chest, where she could feel the bunched, hard, taut muscles beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. His hand closed round hers, pressing it into his flesh, forcing her to feel the throbbing, primal beat of his heart, in sync with the beat that pulsed inside her own body, a beat that proclaimed her desire and screamed her need.
She tore her hand free of his to run it downward. Relishing in the flexing muscles that responded to her touch, she slipped her hand beneath the fabric, scoring his flesh with her nails, running her fingers through the hair that broadcasted his maleness.
A growl deep within his chest mirrored her own longings. She slid the fabric upward, higher and higher, until she’d pulled it over his head. Then
she marveled at the latte-colored flesh beneath the shirt. She yielded to the urge and lowered her lips to the tender flesh between his neck and shoulder.
A groan, hoarse and raw, was torn from him as she scraped her teeth across his flesh, letting her canines nick his skin, leaving behind a tiny trail that erupted into miniscule drops of blood.
Who am I? She didn’t recognize this part of her. She’d never been this way before.
She was still in his lap, his hand on her hip holding her close, the hardness of his desire pressed against her thigh. He pulled her closer, and his other hand tangled in her long hair, twining it around his fist. He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her deeply, drawing her tongue into his mouth, sucking the flavor of his own blood off of it.
The pulse between her legs matched the beat of her heart and the snarls of her tigress. Passion unfurled, claiming both Natalya and her beast.
She heard the sound and recognized it immediately: the sound of fabric giving way to the sharpness of claws. She knew at once he’d unsheathed his. That was followed by the sensation of air cooling her exposed flesh as the dress fell away from her body and draped her lap. The swell of lust trailed behind, picking her up in its waves and carrying her to another place.
“Lézare.” Her voice was wispy, like delicate tendrils of fog floating just above the water’s surface before the sun could dissipate it completely.
“Natalya, you are mine.” The throatiness of his growl was like a dam holding back the power of destruction, completion, and even resurrection.
“I am.” There’s been no question in his statement, and there was no doubt in her reply.
It was as if she’d never breathed before Lézare.
Her murmured words seemed to spur him to action. He stood up from the chair, holding Natalya against him. Her dress drifted downward, settling at their feet on the shiny wood flooring. He glanced around the luxurious cabin, then made for the upholstered bench seat.
“There’ll be no more running away from me.” He took a seat on the bench, flipped her over his lap, face down, her luscious ass skyward.