by Lora Leigh
“You’re crazy. I’m going home. Now.”
She turned on her heel, heading quickly for the bedroom door. She’d had enough of this. Accepting Maria’s punishment because she decided it was okay was a far cry from accepting because this man decided she would. She didn’t think so. It didn’t matter how big or how good-looking he was. It didn’t matter that he deserved his pound of flesh. She wasn’t about to let him take it out of her hide.
Her hand had just wrapped around the doorknob, her fingers tightening on it, when a broad palm smacked the wood above her head and a hard male body pressed her tightly against the wall.
A hard, hot, muscular body. One that surrounded her, his heat pouring off his flesh in waves and wrapping around her. A male presence that smelled of long sultry nights and forbidden desires. Melina swallowed, feeling the aura of danger that suddenly emanated from him.
“You don’t want to piss me off, little girl,” he warned her softly. “Especially not right now. That bullet you let your friends put in my leg hasn’t been forgotten. Neither has the fact that they would have preferred it being my heart. Now shut the hell up, get your ass in the shower, and get dressed. This is a ranch. Everyone does his or her part here, and you’re here to pitch in. Whether you want to or not.”
He moved then, one hand insinuating itself between the door and her body as he unwrapped her fingers from the knob and pushed her lightly toward the bathroom. She wasn’t about to do a damned thing that he ordered her to do.
Melina turned, staring back at him furiously, shaking with the need to smack the knowing smirk off his face as she retreated.
“You’re wrong,” she informed him angrily, though she could tell he had no intention of believing her. “Won’t you even check it out? I have a brother. Joe Angeles. At least contact him. He’ll tell you who I am.”
She didn’t like the amusement that glinted in his eyes. “He wouldn’t tell me anything new, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl.” She felt like stamping her feet in fury. “And I’m not Maria. I have to go home. I have to take care of my cat. Who’s going to take care of my cat?”
That sudden, horrifying thought slipped into her mind. She had forgotten all about Mason. Her baby. What would happen to him?
He would be all alone. He would be frightened without her. Lonely. He had been the only creature in the world who had stayed by her side all these years, and now she wasn’t there to care for him?
“Don’t worry about that mangy animal,” Luc suddenly snarled. “He’s in the barn with the other—”
“In the barn?” She practically screamed out in surprise and fury. “You put my cat in the barn? My baby is in the barn?”
She stared at him, unable to believe the words that came from him. Who would be cruel enough to put sweet little Mason in a barn? He couldn’t do this. Her fingers curled, flexed, as she ached to attack him.
There went his arms over his chest again. “So?”
“So. You can’t put Mason in the barn.” She propped her hands on her hips, fighting mad now. She would not allow him to abuse her cat. “You go get him now.”
He frowned at the harsh demand in her voice.
“If I were you, I would worry about my own problems, not that black mouse chaser,” he snorted.
Outrage flew through her. She felt fury vibrating violently through her body.
“Mason does not chase mice,” she informed him coldly. “And Mason does not sleep in barns. He sleeps in my room, on my bed, next to me. I want my cat. Now.”
He tilted his head, watching her with a sudden, inquisitive expression.
“How bad do you want that cat back, Catarina?” he asked her softly.
She wanted to slap his smug face. At least he was calling her by part of her given name. Even if it was one she shared with Maria. He was going to blackmail her. She could see it in his eyes, in his expression. The son of a bitch was going to use her baby against her. She wanted to tell him to go straight to hell.
Instead, she gritted her teeth, counted to ten, and said, “What do you want?”
Melina was aware there had to be something wrong with loving a black ball of fluff that rarely gave her the time of day. Unless she cried. Then he was all over her, comforting her, letting her hold him, even if it was with an air of supreme boredom. He had gotten her through the past two years when there had been no one else. She wasn’t about to leave him in a dirty, dusty barn.
Luc stepped back to her, pulling her against his harder, taller body as she stared up at him in shock. She hated the awareness that flared in the pit of her stomach as his hard cock pressed into her. Hated the hunger she could feel welling within her.
Her lips parted as he stared down at her, his eyes flickering with heat as they settled on her lips. Melina trembled. She could feel her pussy heating, dampening, and cursed her response to him.
She braced her hands against his shoulders, resisting—not just Luc, but herself as well. He had the most kissable lips she had ever seen on a man. That full lower curve fascinated her, made her want to eat him up. But he had set the boundaries with this kidnapping. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to lie down and let him walk all over her. She was tired of being anyone’s doormat.
“I thought you were my kidnapper, not my rapist,” she snapped when she managed to find her voice. “Let me go, Luc. I won’t whore for my cat. But I’ll be damned if I’ll cooperate in any way without him.”
His brows snapped into a frown as his arms tightened around her. Eyes narrowing, he gazed down at her thoughtfully for long seconds before slowly releasing her.
“Take your shower and get dressed. We’ll discuss terms downstairs after you’ve managed to cool off and act decently. I might allow you the cat, if you can control yourself and follow the rules.” With that said, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
She was going to kill him, she assured herself. Then she was going to kill Maria.
SIX
An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and white cotton shirt, Melina entered the large kitchen at the far end of the house. The two-story ranch home was laid out fairly simply, so the kitchen wasn’t hard to find. Of course, the banging of the cabinet doors might have helped a little.
Tucking a stray reddish-gold curl behind her ear, Melina checked the French braid she had arranged her hair into for neatness and stepped into the kitchen. She knew the second she walked into the room that she loved it. Too bad it belonged to the big, arrogant cowboy frowning into the depths of a cabinet.
The stove was to die for. It was a modern cook’s dream with a gas grill in the center, four large burners on the side, and adequate ventilation above it. The floor was hardwood with an area rug beneath the six chairs and kitchen table that sat near a large picture window. The cabinets were cherry, though dusty and appearing dull in the light of the morning sun. But there were plenty of them. A large central island was located several feet from the sink, yet still near enough to the stove to make it handy.
It might have been a cook’s dream but it was a housekeeper’s nightmare.
Luc was turned just slightly away from her, giving her a clear view of his muscular back and the taut, well-rounded curves of his butt beneath his snug jeans. He had an ass to die for. The sight of it made her fingers itch with the need to touch. As though she would know what to do with it if she did touch, she told herself sarcastically. Still, she had always admired a nice male backside, and his had to be the best she had seen yet.
Drawing in a long, deep breath, she glanced away from the temptation.
“You need to fire your housekeeper,” she told him expressionlessly as she stared around the room once again. “She’s not doing her job.”
The kitchen resembled the living room she had peeked into, as well as the dining room she had walked through. Dusty, unloved. As though the home wasn’t really a home but merely a place to spend the night.
Luc turned to
look at her, his brows lowered in a dark frown as she hunched her shoulders and tucked her hands into her jean pockets. She was still dying to claw his eyes out; she figured it better to restrain her hands enough that she would at least have a second to think before actually trying to do it. He was sure to make her madder before the hour was out.
She watched as he followed the move, a smirk tilting his lips as though he knew the reason behind it. Melina fought to keep her expression clear, the anger glowing in her chest from reflecting on her face. Damn him. She had never met a man more stubborn in her life.
Shoring her patience, she straightened her shoulders and met his look head-on. She had resigned herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to listen to reason, which meant she was going to have to try to find her own way out. She had a feeling that escaping Luc wouldn’t be easy. But before she could even consider escape, she had to have Mason.
“I’ve showered, I’ve dressed, and I’ve met you in the kitchen,” she finally said with careful control. “Now where’s my baby?”
Irritation flashed in his stormy gray eyes. It was obvious that there was something about her and her cat that he didn’t like. Of course, it could just be Maria he hated, she thought with morbid amusement, which didn’t bode well for her, considering he thought she was Maria.
“How anyone can call that fat-assed black ball of fur a baby is beyond me,” he growled. “That animal should be put down for its temper alone.”
Melina’s eyes widened in sudden fear at the sincere dislike in his tone and the implied threat to the little animal. Her baby. He thought Mason should be killed.
And Mason did not have a temper. He was just a little spoiled, that was all. That was no excuse to be mean to him.
“You hurt Mason and I promise you, I’ll make what Maria did to you look like a day at the park,” she warned him, completely serious now.
He could punish her all he liked, and in a way she could even make some sort of twisted sense of it. But he wasn’t going to hurt Mason. She’d had enough of Maria’s thoughtless actions impacting her life in such painful ways. She blamed herself. She had allowed the trend to continue as they got older, but no more. She would not lose anything else due to her sister’s selfishness and utter cruelty.
He crossed his arms over his chest. She was coming to heartily dislike that action.
He was still frowning at her, the low cast of his brows giving his expression a dangerous appearance. Melina fought back her fear as she met his gaze silently.
“You’re in no position to be giving out threats here, sugarplum,” he told her softly, his voice almost too gentle to suit her. It reminded her of the eye of a violent storm. She would have been more frightened if it weren’t for the fact that she was hopelessly in love with that stupid cat. Even she didn’t understand it.
“Listen, mister, I understand you think you have a problem with me. Really, I do,” she assured him sincerely. “I can even, almost, understand the mistake you’re making.
“But if you harm so much as a hair on Mason’s body, then I promise, you’re going to regret it. That’s my cat. He adopted me when no one else wanted me and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you mistreat him.”
“Baby, maybe more people would want you if you toed the line a little bit closer. You know. Give a little, get a little?” he suggested mockingly.
Melina flinched at the painfully cruel words. Give a little, get a little. She would have laughed at the thought if it weren’t so ironic. She had given everything she had for so many years … for nothing. All she had to show for it was a black cat that deigned to curl in her lap and shed on her whenever she became weak enough to cry. But the warmth of his fat little body and his soft purrs had kept her sane through the aftermath of her nightmares.
“I’m sure you think your opinion of me should matter,” she said reasonably, stilling the furious words that rose to her lips instead. “I’ll even pretend it does for as long as I have to. But not as long as my cat is in that barn suffering.”
If she could go to jail for Maria, then she could stand up to one temperamental cowboy for her baby. She could think of few things as horrible as that week she had spent in jail for her sister.
“At least he’s alive,” he grunted hatefully. “Have I mentioned I hate cats?”
Melina pushed back the fear rising inside her. Maria had nearly caused the death of this man as well as his friend. Killing a cat he believed was hers would be small compared with her crimes. But it was Mason. He didn’t belong to Maria. Maria couldn’t care less and she wouldn’t spend a second grieving his loss. And she sure as hell wouldn’t care about the pain Melina would suffer without him.
She bit her lip as she fought the fear that Luc would hurt him. She looked up at him silently, swallowing dread. She had a feeling her need for comfort from her fears might well be her downfall.
“Please,” she whispered. “I just want my cat.”
Melina saw the interest that suddenly flared in his eyes, the knowledge that the animal could be leverage against her that he might not have considered before.
“In exchange for?” he asked, confirming her worst fears. There wasn’t a lot she would say no to in her effort to save Mason.
“I already asked what you want.” She tried to still the frustration thickening her voice as she attempted to reason with a man who had already proven himself unreasonable. “I’m willing to cooperate as much as possible,” she said nervously. “Fine, you want to punish me for what Maria did, but don’t hurt my cat.”
If his frown could have grown darker, it would have. She saw the anger that instantly flared in his gaze and knew she had just made a major tactical error.
“Admit to who you are, and we’ll talk.”
Admit to who she wasn’t. A sense of resignation overcame her. The cost of one small comfort would be once again allowing herself to be mired in Maria’s identity. She slid her hands from her jeans, linking them together, trying to still the tremors that wanted to rush through her body.
*
“I told you who I am,” she said as desolation washed over her. “Don’t make me lie to you. Please. Because I will, for this.”
His arms uncrossed, his thumbs catching at the front of his jean waistband.
She shouldn’t notice the tight, hard abs that the action displayed, or the lean, muscular hips and, below, the thick bulge of his cock. She shouldn’t be wet, shouldn’t be longing for things she knew she couldn’t have.
His brow lifted mockingly. “You would lie for something so small?” he asked with sarcastic disbelief. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself than it already is,” he suggested easily. “Come on, tell me who you are and we’ll go get the cat.”
Melina drew in a tired breath.
“Catarina Angeles,” she finally said, fighting to hold her temper back now. If she let her anger free, she would never see Mason again.
He shook his head slowly, destroying any hope she had that he would, by chance, let this go. “Nope. Come on, sugarplum, full name. Admit to who you are and we’ll go get the cat. Otherwise, he takes his chances outside.”
She met his gaze directly, holding back the screams that longed to pour from her throat. “Don’t do this.”
Could she survive without Mason? She shuddered at the thought of the nightmares that were sure to come without his comforting presence. How would she hold on to her sanity without something or someone to comfort her?
“Your name,” he demanded again.
“Maria Catarina Angeles,” she whispered despondently. It wasn’t the first time she had done so, but at least this time it served her rather than someone else. “May I please have my cat now?”
*
He should have been satisfied. Luc stared at the expressionless face, the weary green eyes, and felt anything but satisfaction. He felt like a damned monster. She had spoken the words as her shoulders lowered marginally, as though the weight of the admission had placed an invisible burden on her that
was too great to bear.
The admission, though given as he asked, was voiced with such a lack of emotion that it made him regret forcing the issue. And her eyes. If he had ever seen such weary resignation in a woman’s eyes, he couldn’t remember it. They darkened, turning so vulnerable, so filled with shadows and pain, that something about it twisted his heart.
She had spoken the words with an automation that seemed almost … rehearsed. He tilted his head, watching, as she stood silent and cool in front of him. Her fury of earlier that morning seemed extinguished and weariness had taken its place. He felt like a complete bastard and didn’t even know why. Damn her. It wasn’t his fault she wanted to play games.
He hated cats. What in the hell possessed him to consider letting that demon into his house? He probably shed, Luc thought in disgust. Just what he needed. But he’d be damned if he could stand that look in those dark velvet-green eyes. They were haunted, filled with an inner pain that he couldn’t quite describe. A pain he had caused.
He snarled silently, lifting his lips in self-derision as he grunted in irritation.
“Come on, let’s go get the bastard. But if he scratches me again I’ll feed him to my dogs. He’d make a hell of a snack.”
SEVEN
The barn was within sight of the house, but still nearly an acre separated it from the main building. Melina moved quickly behind Luc as his long legs ate up the distance.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off his strongly curved ass, no matter how hard she tried, or the bunch and flex of his hard thighs beneath his jeans. He had the long-legged gait of a cowboy. That undefined, strolling strut that made a woman’s mouth water and her fingers itch to clench into all that male strength moving so temptingly before her eyes.
His buttocks were lusciously curved for a man, and the low-riding jeans showed them off to perfection. His back was like granite beneath the T-shirt, each muscle defined by the cloth that had been tucked into his pants. The whole picture was irritatingly sexy. She didn’t want to lust for him anymore. It was fine when he was just a distant figure she could drool over in private, but now? She snorted silently. He had to be the most aggravating, ill-tempered man she had laid eyes on in her life. But good heavens, if he wasn’t the most delicious-looking man she had ever seen.