Chapter Ten
This was going to be a ride from hell, Carlos thought as he drove through White Plains. It was damned hard to concentrate with her tight little skirt halfway up her thighs. He glanced over. More than halfway.
The little minx was doing it just to torture him. As a shifter, his senses were sharper than a normal human's. He could see quite well in the dark, well enough to spot the little black mole on the outside of her left thigh. He could also smell the scent of her hair and skin. He could hear her breathing faster than normal. She was still upset.
Or turned on. Desire had sizzled in her blue eyes when she'd wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her sweet body against him.
Merda. A week with this woman was going to drive him loco. By the time he went on his expedition in the jungle, he would have a crazed mind...and blue balls. Even now his trousers felt uncomfortably tight.
He turned right onto a busy avenue. "Are you hungry? I'm starving."
She regarded him nonchalantly. "What do you eat? Field mice?"
He shot her an annoyed look. "No. I'm a big cat. I could take down a horse."
She grimaced. "You eat raw meat?"
Lift that skirt a little higher and find out. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. "I was thinking about stopping at a restaurant. Would you care to join me?"
She shifted in the car seat to face him, causing him to glance at her legs once again. "Are you asking me out?"
"No."
"Will you purr if I tickle you behind the ears?"
"No."
"Will you dance the samba for me in your hot pink sequined thong?"
"No."
"Do you always say no?"
His mouth twitched. "No."
She sighed and tugged her skirt down a bit. "I'm afraid I was a bit rude."
He shrugged. "No more than usual."
She swatted his shoulder. "I'm not rude! Well, not normally." She adjusted the collar of his polo shirt.
Holy Mother of God, would she stop touching him? "Are you hungry? 'Cause I'm still starving here."
"All you think about is food."
"Not really." He glanced at her legs.
"I think I just want to take a hot bath and go to bed. I've had a lot thrown at me the last two nights. I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted."
"I could order the food, and they'll deliver it after we get home."
"That sounds good, actually. Really good."
He pulled into a parking lot. "That's one of the important rules about being a day guard. I can't leave the sleeping Vamps unprotected, so I learned how to get things delivered."
"I see."
He pulled his cell phone out to call his favorite restaurant. "I'm having a sirloin steak. Rare."
She made a face.
"Does that lovely expression mean you would prefer something else?"
She smiled. "Do they have seafood?"
"I'll check." He placed his order, then inquired about the menu. "Pecan-crusted salmon?" he asked her.
Her blue eyes widened. "That sounds heavenly."
He placed the order, set his phone on the console, then drove back onto the avenue.
"You mentioned last night that you're going on a trip," she murmured.
He shrugged.
"Emma told me you're going on an expedition to find more of your kind. She said you and your children are an endangered species."
"I'd rather not talk about it." He turned onto the Bronx River Parkway.
"You told your friends last night you were hunting for a mate."
"Don't want to talk about it." If he confided in her, it would generate a sense of closeness, and that would only increase the torture.
With a sigh, she scrunched down in her car seat. Unfortunately, that made her skirt slide higher up her thighs. About an inch to be exact.
"You were crying earlier." The second the words left his mouth, he slapped himself mentally. He couldn't afford to have her confiding in him either.
"I was upset. Furious, actually. At my father. Not you."
He glanced at her. She was staring out the side window. The line of her jaw and slender neck was beautiful. Merda. He had to stop thinking like that. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Your dad mentioned some sort of fiasco that got you fired."
She gave him a pointed look. "Don't want to talk about it."
He gritted his teeth. "I guess we'll just be quiet then."
"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Actually, I think I am a little mad at you. You keep sending out mixed signals."
His jaw ticked. "How's that?"
"You kissed me with a ton of hot, desperate passion, then acted like it was a mistake."
"It was a mistake."
"If the hot, desperate passion was real - and it certainly felt real - then how could it be a mistake?"
She had him there. He could claim the passion wasn't real, but she'd know it was a lie. "I have to find a were-panther mate. The survival of my species depends on it."
She was quiet for about two blessed minutes, then she finally spoke. "You have no choice in the matter?"
"No."
"What if you can't find any were-panthers?"
He swallowed hard. "I will. I have to."
"And if you find a mate, you'll marry her?"
His throat constricted.
"Even if you don't love her?"
"I have no choice." Merda, she made it sound like a prison sentence.
"How long have you been looking?" she asked.
"Five years." Five years since the Summer of Death. "I've been on five expeditions."
"Where?"
He sighed. "You ask a lot of questions."
"I'm...curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
She smiled. "Then I should be safe. Where are you going this time?"
"Thailand. A small town in the northern Highlands."
"Chiang Mai?"
He glanced at her, surprised. "You've heard of it?"
She laughed. "I've been there. I was stationed at the embassy in Bangkok for a year, and they sent me to Chiang Mai for a few weeks."
"Are you familiar with Chulalongkorn University?"
"Chula? Sure." She shifted to face him. "You think there are were-panthers in Thailand?"
"There's a rumor that some poachers killed a wildcat in the mountainous area to the north, and when the cat died, it turned into a human."
"Is that what happens when were-panthers die?"
"It's common for most were-creatures."
She nodded. "Do you speak Thai? Or any of the dialects you might come across in the Highlands?"
Carlos's grip tightened on the steering wheel. He could tell where she was headed. "My professor friend at Chula will find me a guide and translator."
"A complete stranger? How can you trust someone like that?"
She had a valid point. When the guide he'd used in Nicaragua had realized Carlos was a were-panther, he'd tried to capture him and sell him to a billionaire animal collector. "I'll be fine."
"I think you need me."
"No!" His heart lurched. "I can hire a translator."
"And how will you know if he's telling you the truth? I have contacts in Bangkok and Chiang Mai. I know the language, the culture, and the landscape."
His heart thundered in his chest. "You're not going."
"I know the markets, the local food."
"This is not a shopping trip! It's an expedition."
She lifted her chin. "I can do that. I've ridden elephants. I've petted tigers."
"What?"
"At the Tiger Temple. The Buddhists monks raise them. They're adorable. So cute and furry."
"Menina, I'm going into the jungle. The tigers will not be cute."
"All the more reason why I should go. Dogs and cats are naturally drawn to me because I can understand them, so if there are any were-panthers, they'll come - " She gasped. "Oh my gosh, that's why Coco and Raquel came to me. They're little kitten were-panthers, aren't they?"
Carlos groaned. "You're not going."
"I can think of a hundred reasons why I should."
"I can think of a hundred why you shouldn't! Jungle, Caitlyn. No cute little kittens. Scorpions, deadly spiders, spitting cobras, pit vipers, poisonous centipedes as long as your forearm."
She flinched.
"Will they be drawn to you, too?" he continued. "Do you understand the hissing language of a cobra before it strikes?"
"No. I only understand mammals." She shuddered. "Reptiles and bugs are...different. They don't want to communicate with us. All I feel is indifference and...disdain."
"You can't go into the jungle, Catalina. You can't shoot worth a damn. You can't protect yourself."
She frowned at him. "I'll learn."
"You'll be a burden."
"I'll be invaluable as a translator. I want to help."
"Why? I'll be looking for a mate, Caitlyn."
"You said it yourself. Raquel and Coco need a mother. I can help find them one."
He gave her an incredulous look. "You would risk your life to help them?"
"Didn't you?"
He turned his head front. Yes, he'd risked his life to rescue the children. And he'd died. Twice. He was now on his third life out of the nine allotted to his species. But Caitlyn only had one life. He couldn't allow her to risk it. "My decision is final. You're not going."
He could feel the angry glare directed at his face.
"Umph." She settled back in her seat, scrunching down and causing her skirt to hitch up another inch.
He groaned inwardly. That was the main reason she couldn't go. Her presence, her scent, her beautiful body, her heroic spirit and compassionate nature - it would be a constant, relentless torture.
With a twist in his gut he realized she was the perfect woman for him in every way but the only way that really mattered. She'd even be perfect for his adopted children.
He couldn't do it to her. Not if he truly cared about her. And he did care.
He glanced at her and noted one of her fingers tapping against her hand. Her eyes were narrowed. She chewed on her bottom lip. Merda. She was strategizing.
She wasn't giving up.