Wild Cat by Christine Feehan Page B

out.
    Elijah nuzzled her neck, his hands stroking her. His palm at her waist, his fingers splayed wide, feathering caresses and heat at her back, tracing along the path of each of the rake marks with the pads of his fingers as if that would erase the lacerations forever.
    â€œYou have to make him go away and stay away from me.”
    â€œWho has to go away?” Drake asked.
    â€œElijah.” There. She’d done it. She’d sent him away, and she wouldn’t be touched or soothed or humiliated by him ever again. She wouldn’t be pregnant. She wouldn’t remember
the worst I ever had
every time she saw him or heard his voice. She wouldn’t remember being a part of murder.
    Elijah didn’t so much as shift position. His hands didn’t pause, not even for a moment.
    â€œHe’s one of them. Like my grandfather.” Now, she’d even betrayed him. There would be no going back from there.
    Elijah pressed his lips into the nape of her neck. His teeth scraped along her skin, and instead of scaring her, it felt erotic.
That
scared her.
    â€œHe has to go,” she blurted. She sounded desperate.
    â€œElijah is a big part of my team, Siena. He is not like your grandfather.” Drake’s voice was impossibly gentle. “He walks a very fine line, half in our world and half in the underbelly, but I can assure you, he is on your side. If you trusted me enough to come looking for me and to hire me, you have to trust my judgment.”
    Elijah couldn’t stay. She shook her head, her gaze jumping to Drake’s face, eyes pleading.
    â€œBaby,” Elijah whispered softly against her bare neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now when you need me to protect you. Not ever. Get that through your head.
I’m
your security. I’m part of Drake’s team, and that means all of his men. All the men who work for me. Paolo and Alonzo will never come near you again.”
    A shudder went through her body at the thought of Paolo getting close to her. She couldn’t think about him, so she pushed him out of her mind. She couldn’t think about her grandfather or Elijah or anything else. She closed her eyes, pulled the sheet up to her face and hid from the two men. Hid from the world. Hid from herself.

5

    S IENA stood shakily by the side of the car, her legs feeling like rubber. Any minute she was going to collapse in a little heap onto the ground. No one listened to her. Not at all. No matter what she said. How much she protested. She was
not
going back into that house. Not ever. She didn’t care what any of them said.
    Elijah had announced he wasn’t leaving her
ever
and he’d said it in his low, firm voice, with his
bossy
, commanding tone, but she hadn’t considered even for a minute that he might mean that literally. He barely had left her hospital room during her stay—and that stay had been lengthy, Doc insisting she stay for over two weeks. The doctor and nurses addressed him instead of her when discussing her progress or care. Drake deliberated security details with him. It was her life, but everyone had the very false impression that she belonged to Elijah—even Elijah.
    She realized her mistake now. She’d let him take controlin the hospital because she was in too much pain, both mentally and physically, to cope or process. It was easier to let Elijah take her over. She didn’t have to think about anything. Her mind felt numb most of the time and she just seemed to drift. She thought a lot about her grandfather, and to her shame, she found herself angry at him.
Really
angry. He’d deceived her her entire life. He’d kept her shifter heritage from her. He’d used her. Antonio had been her only family and he’d betrayed her. He’d promised her to a man like Paolo, and when Paolo beat her, he had condoned it, calling her a whore.
    Siena stood, staring in horror up at the huge