She stared at herself in the mirror as she unwrapped her hair and it fell to her waist. He loved her hair long. He loved her to wear it down. She always did in the house, just to please him, but when she went running with him or climbing, she clipped it up. True, it was convenient to have it up, but mostly she put it up so he’d take it down. She loved the way he did that, all impatient, a frown on his face and then his hands would be in her hair, fingers threading through the strands so possessively.

She brushed all the tangles out, taking her time, looking at the woman she’d become. A few months ago she could never have looked at her body and been confident and proud of herself. She’d been ashamed of her lack of formal education. She’d found fault with every curve. She brought her hands up to her breasts. Now, she loved the sight of the body that pleased Eli so much. He worshiped her body.

Eli’s marks were everywhere on her skin, on her curves, those dark smudges that told her the path his hands and mouth had followed. She loved seeing those signs of his possession. The sight always made her feel even sexier.

She chose a lacy white camisole to wear so she wouldn’t have to wear a bra for support. The camisole fit snugly around her breasts and was tight around her rib cage. It was short, baring a strip of her midriff, the real reason she chose it. Eli could never resist touching her bare skin. The zipper on the side allowed her to get out of it fast, so she knew if he decided to practice shifting, she’d be much faster than he would think and she might actually best him.

She rarely wore panties at home, especially when she knew they’d be shifting. It was just one more item of clothing to get rid of, slowing her down. A thong or boy shorts could cost her precious seconds, just as a bra could. She made a mental note to consult with Emma about what she did when it came to clothing.

She left her hair down to dry, brushed her teeth thoroughly and made her way to the kitchen to begin cooking. Of course Eli was outside on the porch. Dawn was breaking. He loved to watch the light streaking through the dark. She made the dough for the beignets before she made her own coffee. Eli had grown fond of the warm treat with his coffee after breakfast and she always made them fresh.

She took her time making her coffee, looking around her kitchen. Eli had told her she could do anything she wanted with it and she had. He’d bought her the stove and pots and pans, the rest was her design and the touches that made life easier for her when she was working. The touches that made her feel as if the kitchen truly belonged to her.

Eli had given her that as well. Love welled up. Overwhelmed her. She needed him. Needed to be close to him. More and more she found herself drawn to him. Just like this. Her breasts ached and she found it was a wonderful sensation because the thought of Eli put that there. Her feminine core pounded with heat, and again, she loved the soreness that came from Eli’s thick cock, stretching and burning her. She was glad that with every step she took, she could feel him.

Pushing open the screen door, she stepped outside. It was still dark, the light barely filtering through, but mostly that was because of the black clouds churning in the sky overhead.

The scent of blood hit her just as her gaze swept the porch. On the far side of the porch, away from the door, something heavy hung from chains. Swaying. Her heart stopped for a moment and then began to pound. She wanted to run to the swaying body – and it was a body – she could see that now. Not just any body, but Eli.

20

CATARINA FROZE. She forced every muscle to lock in place. There was no way to take her horrified gaze from Eli’s golden one. His face was swollen. Blood streaked not only his face and head, but his chest as well. Clearly, while she’d been showering, daydreaming, Eli had been tortured.

Eli’s eyes had closed after that one brief acknowledgement of her presence, but she had the feeling he was alert. Ready. Coiled to strike. She didn’t know how that could be possible, and maybe it was only because she was so terrified and needed to believe it, but she did. That gave her the added confidence to look around her.

She knew he would be there. She had thought he would come alone, but he hadn’t. His three top lieutenants, all leopard, were with him. They stood on the ground, just past Eli’s body. One held cables in his hands, another the hose. She felt her leopard rise. Fury shook her, replacing terror. But she didn’t move a muscle. Only her eyes moved.

He was there somewhere, waiting in silence, wanting her terror to mount. She could feel his anger. The weight of it crushing her, just as it had crushed her when she’d been a helpless child seeking love and approval in his home. She couldn’t afford to be crushed by him. Not now. Not when Eli hung from chains and the three leopard lieutenants had obviously been given carte blanche to torture him. She lifted her chin, inhaled, and knew immediately where he was. She turned away from Eli, hating to lose sight of him, but she had to face Rafe.

The moment her gaze found him, at the opposite end of the porch, standing upright in the shadows, he took a step toward her. He was a big man. Built strong and powerful. His features were cut from the same powerful cloth. His cold stare could stop a grown man in full battle mode from moving an inch toward him – even if they had a gun in their hand. She’d seen it happen more than once. Rafe Cordeau had that kind of power. He was handsome. She’d never really noticed that before. And he had charisma. She had noticed that.

“So you found me again,” she greeted softly.

“I told you I would always find you, Catarina,” he answered, his voice equally as soft.