“Stop saying ‘I know,’ that doesn’t really say anything at all,” she snapped, exasperated. “You just do whatever you want, don’t you?”

“Pretty much, yes.” He flashed a small smile. He loved her sass. Catarina broken tore his heart out. Catarina full of attitude made his body harder than a rock. “It’s the only way with you. I learned that from watching you in the dojo. You aren’t predictable at all. Like attacking me in your bedroom. That was the last thing I expected. And you did pretty well. I was proud of you.”

She pulled the plug on the tub, clearly resigned that he would stand there forever, which wasn’t true. If she hadn’t stood up, he would have hauled her ass out of there and then dried her off.

“I was proud of you getting out of the handcuffs as well. You’re no pushover, Cat, and you can’t be a pushover with a man like me, but bottom line, when it comes to your safety or health, you’re not going to win.”

“You’re back to being an arrogant jerk.”

He enfolded her in the towel and began to rub the material over her skin in order to remove the water. While he did he inspected her for marks and bruising. He crouched down and nudged her legs apart. She trembled.

“Put your hand on my shoulder, baby. I just want to make certain you’re okay. I’m not going to do anything you won’t like.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” she said honestly.

He wrapped his hand around her calf and then ran his palm up to the inside of her thigh. He couldn’t imagine another woman being in her position and being so open with him. But then, she’d done that all along when it came to her emotions. She might have hid her past with Cordeau, but she didn’t hold back when the topic was about her and what she thought or felt.

He stroked the inside of her thigh and allowed himself to inhale her scent. Honey and spice. He would always want that, want her. No. He’d always crave her.

“I’d like to make breakfast now.” Her voice was tight. Clearly she was nervous.

“I’ll get you one of my shirts to wear. It’s warm and will cover you easily. I think if you let the air reach you you’ll heal faster.”

She considered his offer. In the end she took his flannel shirt when he handed it to her. It was soft and warm and far too big for her, fitting more like a short dress than a shirt. He rolled up the sleeves for her and walked her into the kitchen.

“You don’t have a phone anywhere that I can see,” she observed.

That told him she’d been looking for one. The only person he could think she might call was Cordeau. That didn’t sit well with him, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I live off the grid here. Totally self-sufficient. The water is gravity fed. Solar panels for electricity. I’ve got a garden in and I pay to have it kept up. Grow most of my own vegetables. I’m not here often, but when I quit work, this is where I plan to retire. My leopard has space to run free, and I like the quiet.”

“I like quiet too, as long as I have my coffee.”

He flashed her a small smile, still wondering who the hell she wanted to call and considering handcuffing her to his bed just to make certain it wasn’t Cordeau. “I like your coffee too.”

“I’ll make that first,” she said. “And then I’ll look through your fridge and the cupboards to see what you’ve got in the way of food.”

“Emma is pretty thorough,” Eli said, still distracted. He caught the back of a chair, spun it around and straddled it, leaning a little forward to look her in the eye. “You going to tell me why you were looking for a phone? You still think you’re going to make Cordeau your choice of mate and not me?”

There was no keeping the snarl from his voice. He had gone from mellow to angry – it was there in his tone – and quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn if it scared her or not. She had to see the rage in his eyes. It roiled in his gut. “You want to tell me that shit, Cat? Because I can tell you, no fucking way is Cordeau ever going to put his dirty hands on you.”

8

CATARINA turned back around to face Eli. He’d been right about the leopard and his temper. The lines in his face were cut deep. There was a hard set to his jaw. His eyes were cat yellow and fixed on her intently. She shook her head and turned back to the espresso machine, concentrating on making that first cup. She needed it if she was going to face him after ripping her own clothes off and jumping him. He obviously needed it just to mellow him out.

“And you call me grumpy in the morning,” she muttered.

“What the hell did you just say?” he demanded.

She rolled her eyes at the coffee machine. “Clearly you’re the grumpy one in the morning, not me. I’m being all sweet making you a cup of coffee and you’re snarling like some raging wild beast.”

“Newsflash, Kitten. I am a snarling, raging beast. You want to answer the damn question?”

“Not particularly. At least not until I have two or three sips of coffee under my belt and you have a full cup. What a grouch.”

“Don’t give me attitude, baby, not when I’m feeling like this¸” he warned, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“Don’t you give me attitude when I’m making a masterpiece,” she countered. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

His hair was all over the place, and she liked it that way. She didn’t know exactly what to think anymore so she didn’t want to think too much about anything. He’d broken her heart, devastated her, basically kidnapped her and then opened his heart to her – if she could believe him.