Cat's Lair Page 41


“Are you hungry?”

“Can you cook?”

“Not really.” He admitted with a grin. “I told you the truth. I tried to give you who I really was, Catarina, not some bullshit made-up man. I’ll try to cook for you though.”

She smiled a genuine smile for the first time. “Do you actually have groceries?”

“I called my neighbor and she sent a supply over. I asked her to pick up an espresso machine as well and some coffee beans.”

“Give me a few more minutes and I’ll see what you have. I enjoy cooking, and it will hopefully get your mind off sex long enough for me to reason with you.”

“I doubt that, but I’m willing to give it a try,” he agreed, mostly because she really did look as if she wanted to make breakfast. And he liked her cooking.

“Why did you do that to me?” she repeated.

He sighed. “I told you, baby. It’s my job. No one really knew what you were to Cordeau. No one knew why you were in his home or why you left. There were rumors and speculation. I think most people thought you were part of his organization, at the very least his lover. I knew the first time I saw you that you weren’t either.”

“Still, you came after me. You lied to me. I thought you were my friend. You worked hard to gain my trust and then you betrayed me.”

“I know it felt that way to you,” he said, “and I’m sorry. I told you I fucked up with you, and I did. I liked being with you far more than I should have. The minute I realized you were an innocent, I was careful with you. I wanted, maybe even needed, the friendship more than you did.”

Her eyelashes fluttered and she tilted her head to one side. Once again, her bottom lip was between her teeth. His heart somersaulted and his cock jerked. That mattered to her, his admission of need. He had to give her something of himself.

“A man in my position, Cat, doesn’t have family and has very few friends. Not even in the department. I work knee-deep in slime and I forget sometimes what the hell I’m even working for. I can’t remember the last time I laughed, not until I was with you. I can’t remember feeling light and easy and even happy, not until you. I couldn’t stop myself from getting involved with you. Every single day I told myself it had to stop, that I was getting in too deep and it wasn’t fair to you, but honest to God, Kitten, I couldn’t stop myself.”

His voice rang with honesty because it was the truth. She drew up her knees and rubbed her chin on top of them, regarding him with her blue eyes. She liked what she heard, that much he could see. It wasn’t redemption, but it gave her something to think about.

“You wouldn’t have kissed me if I hadn’t asked you to, would you?” she persisted.

“Would I have? I’d like to think I would have been a better man than that. I didn’t know about the decision to tell Cordeau where you were, swear to God, Catarina, but I knew you were thinking of running after you spotted Tuttle. Not just thinking about it. I tried to talk you out of it, but I knew you’d made up your mind.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Damn it all, I didn’t want to lose you. I could tell you I did it so you would be safe from Cordeau. I knew you wouldn’t agree to testify against him. I didn’t think you really knew anything of use. To anyone else I used that excuse, that I wanted you safe from him, but the honest fucking truth is, I didn’t want to lose you. I knew if you left, I’d never see you again.”

She sucked in her breath, her eyes glued to his face.

“That’s it. That’s the real reason. I’m not the white knight. I’m not even a good DEA agent. I’m the man who for the first time in my life wanted a woman for myself. You can’t know what my life is like, Cat. I’m alone all the time. I don’t have a clue about a real relationship. I’m a leopard, a shifter, so I’m bad-tempered and mean and sometimes violent. I can be as cold as ice or in a fiery rage. That’s the life of a shifter. There are few of us and most choose to stay within our kind, in lairs. I don’t have a lair. I don’t have friends. I do my job and I’m damn good at it, no regrets. Until you came along.”

“Eli,” she whispered. “Stop talking. I can’t process any more. I have to think about everything you’ve said. I’m very hurt and confused and feeling raw. I’m embarrassed about throwing myself at you, and the things you talk about scare the crap out of me.”

He frowned. “I’m not trying to frighten you, baby. I’m trying to make you see where my head was.”

“Not about that. About sex. You and me. That scares me.”

“I know,” he said gently.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me, and you did.”

“I know,” he repeated, his voice dropping an octave. “You need to come out of there before the water cools down. I really don’t want you sore.”

He had no idea when her leopard would choose to push close to the surface again, or worse, emerge fully. She couldn’t be sore for that event. It would be wild and uninhibited, a primal joining and both human and leopard would claim their respective mates. There would be no turning back once Catarina’s leopard made her choice.

He removed a towel from a drawer and held it up. “Stand up.”

“I’d really prefer to do this alone,” she said.

“I know.” He stayed where he was, holding the towel so she could step out of the tub and he could dry her off.

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