She loved the books that slowly were filling the empty shelves. She knew she spent too much on books, but it was the only thing she spent money on. She threw out her arms and spun in a circle, unable to contain her happiness. The dread was still there, deep in the pit of her stomach and the nightmares had increased so she knew Rafe was closer than ever to her, but still she couldn’t help but be happy.

She might not spend money on herself, but Eli kept her supplied in clothes – especially lingerie. Silky, lacy camisoles. He especially liked red on her. She had a lot of lace and red. She could never really understand why because it never stayed on her more than a few minutes, but she liked to wear the silk and lace under her clothes, especially her everyday clothes, just to tease him. He always wondered.

Eli made her laugh. He was bossy, even arrogant, there was no doubt about it. He was super controlling, but, she found, it was mainly when it came to sex or her safety or health. In every other area, he was gentle with her and seemed to want her to grow confident and spread her wings.

She had more boots in her closet than she could possibly wear in a week. She never asked for them. She was careful, even, not to look at anything too long in any of the cool stores she’d found on the Internet, but the boots kept coming and she loved every pair. She didn’t wear them often, but Eli always assured her, when the danger to her was past, he would take her out often and she could wear her beloved boots.

“Kitten, where the hell are you?” Eli sounded irritated and bossy. Just like him.

She didn’t shout her answer back to him because she knew from experience he detested that. When he called her, he wanted her. Right there. In front of him. And when she came into the room he wanted her kissing him.

Catarina moved quickly through the hall down to the kitchen where Eli paced with a scowl on his face. The moment she entered, he whirled around and stalked toward her, looking aggressive, a leopard on the prowl. Her heart stuttered, just as it always did when she first caught a glimpse of him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his body cut with heavy, defined muscles. His face was that of a man, no boyish features at all. Right now his jaw was set tight and his eyes were very focused, predatory. She went straight to him, meeting him in the middle of the kitchen, going up on her toes to press her mouth gently to his frown.

He always responded the same way. The moment her lips touched his, his mouth took over, his tongue demanding entrance. He slipped his hand under her shirt to cup one breast, his thumb sliding over her nipple as her mouth met his. She wasn’t certain why he always touched her so intimately when she kissed him, but she liked it, almost as if it was his personal brand of ownership.

She had a brand of her own. When she stepped back, she allowed her hand to run down his chest, feel the tight, cut muscles of his abdomen and then brush lightly over his heavy, thick cock. He was nearly always semi-or completely erect after kissing her. Sometimes she wondered if he was always in a permanent state of arousal.

“Where the hell did you go when you left my bed this morning without waking me? And why?”

This time, his hand didn’t drop away from her breast when she stepped back. His thumb and finger caught her nipple and tugged hard. Rolled deliberately. Fire shot straight to her center. Heat burned. Her gaze jumped to his face.

“I just went out to the porch and sat for a while, Eli,” she said, puzzled.

“And nowhere else?”

It was a demand. He didn’t let go of her breast, but he cupped the soft weight and his thumb gentled, stroking there deliberately.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, trying to think what else she’d done. “I practiced shifting,” she admitted, still not understanding why he was upset. She practiced every chance she got. He’d told her to. Even in the bedroom sometimes she tried to best her times of removing clothes and shifting on the move.

“What did I tell you last night?”

Hard hands bit into her waist. He lifted her up abruptly and set her on the table, hard. One hand went to her shirt, yanking it open, uncaring of the buttons that flew in all directions. Her breasts spilled out through the open edges. He placed one hand on her chest and pushed, forcing her to lean back until she had to catch herself with her hands.

“I don’t know. What? You’re scaring me a little bit, Eli. I can’t think straight.”

“I told you not to go anywhere without me. I told you it wasn’t safe.”

Her heart tripped hard. He felt Rafe close. Fear made her mouth dry. She tasted a metallic flavor that always scared her. They’d had nearly a month since he’d given her the news about David and the others. She’d allowed herself to live in a dream world again, lulled into a false sense of security because so much time had passed.

“Eyes on mine,” Eli snapped. “If you’re going to be afraid of someone, it had better be me, not that bastard.”

He was really angry, she realized. He’d never actually been angry with her before. Impatient maybe, but not angry. What had he said? He had a temper. He might say and do things she needed to be able to get over. What did that mean?

Reluctantly she lifted her gaze to his. His golden eyes blazed down into hers. “You knew damn well you weren’t supposed to leave my side.”

She shook her head. A slight tremor shook her body. He was really frightening standing over her with his eyes furious. He was fully clothed, and she was sprawled out in front of him entirely vulnerable. She tried to shift position just a little, to close her legs, to give herself any kind of edge she could.