A Tiger's Bride (A Lion's Pride Book 4) (7 page)

“Don’t you pull that with me! I’ll say whatever I goddamn please when my baby girl goes missing.”

“I’m hardly missing. I know exactly where I am. I’m here, talking to you right now.”

She could almost see the steam blowing out her father’s ears. “Don’t you pull that semantic shit with me. You know I hate it when your mother does it.”

She grinned. He did, which was why her mother kept doing it. Miss Manners 101—cater to your man but always keep him guessing. “Is there any reason why there’s like a zillion calls and messages to my phone?”

“You can’t just vanish in the night with all your shit and not expect us to get worried. If that Russian prick has you…” He trailed off ominously.

She stood and walked away with her phone pressed to her ear, doing her best to ignore Dmitri as he paced her.

Despite Dmitri affecting a feigned nonchalance, the predator in her could sense the tension coiled in him. If she had to guess, she’d wager if she said the wrong thing he’d lunge to steal back her phone.

Two words. Two words was all it would take to have Daddy and all of the prides he was affiliated with on a plane to Moscow to get her back.

Two words such as ‘save me’.

Two words to change the course of her future.

“I’m fine. Super fine as a matter of fact, especially since I escaped before disaster really struck. You know what happens when Meena and I stay in one place too long together.” There was a reason their father had learned carpentry, plumbing, and electrical wiring as they grew up. It was cheaper than keeping a handyman on retainer. “Besides, before Meena’s surprise wedding, I already had plans to meet friends in New York. We’re going to do some shopping.”

“You left without a word to go shopping?” The doubtful tone in her father’s voice almost made her laugh.

“Prada’s got their new line of purses coming out, and I’ve been saving.”

“You worried us for a purse?”

“Not just any purse. A Prada, Daddy. Mother would understand.” When in doubt, toss her mother at him. For some reason, he never argued with her.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Aha, there was the crack of doubt she’d chiseled.

“Never better.” She met Dmitri’s gaze as she uttered the claim, and oddly enough, she meant it.

Forget trepidation or anxiety over what the tiger wanted from her.

Excitement coursed through her veins. Anticipation awakened her senses.

She assured her father a few half-dozen more times she was fine before she finally managed to hang up.

During it all, Dmitri played silent spectator. Then again, why speak when he practically undressed her with his eyes and then visually stroked every inch of her body?

It was more than a girl could handle, and there was nothing technically stopping her from indulging. Women had sex all the time. Casual sex even. She’d held back for so long. She’d held on to an ideal that might never happen.

So what if he doesn’t love me yet? We are married. He’s mine.
She had the choice if she wanted to make this marriage real. To have him in her life, in her bed, and in her heart.

What about inside me?

Desire made her bold.

Tossing the phone to the side, she flung herself on the couch, spread her arms wide, and exclaimed, “Take me. I’m yours.”

It might have proven sexier if the French provincial sofa, with its carved spindle legs, hadn’t collapsed on the floor.

Any other man might have dove on the offering. His little kitten surely tempted with her hair in disarray, her chignon, with all the abuse it had taken, a mess. She wasn’t exactly attired in siren clothing, given he’d had her dressed—by a female staff member of the hotel—into something more covering and practical than her wedding apparel. However, the baggy athletic pants and sweatshirt, while not sexy, did not detract from her loveliness.

And she invited him with arms and eyes wide open, ignoring the fact the couch tilted as the broken side sat on the floor.

She wanted him. So why did he hesitate?

“Are you trying to get me close so you can attempt injury to my organs?” His sister enjoyed using that ploy and then taunted him with dire threats that if he told their mother it would prove he was a pussy.

Siblings sucked.

Teena shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you hoping to knock me unconscious so you can flee?”

“Somehow I doubt I have anything solid enough to manage that.”

True, he did have a hard head.

“Then what is your angle?” Other than the angle she currently splayed in, tilted head down, torso in an odd slump. It was strangely adorable.

“I just wanted to cuddle. No big deal. We are married, right?” She kind of shrugged. At least she rolled her shoulders, which caused her to slip off the slanted cushions and hit the floor. But she recovered quickly and sat with one leg extended, the other bent, as she leaned back on her arms, thrusting her chest out enticingly.

Cats ever did have a wondrous ability to make even the clumsiest gesture appear as if intentional.

“Yes, we’re married.”

“Exactly, which means we should consummate this sucker. Usually that requires two of us, in close proximity.”

Dmitri frowned. “Aren’t you going to argue?”

“Would it matter?”

“Well, no, but still, you must be angry.” He’d grown up surrounded by women who didn’t need much to let their temper loose.

“Angry that you married me? Not really. And trust me, that surprises me as much as you.”

She spoke the truth. He didn’t detect any irritation on her part, and that made no sense. Any other woman would have been throwing stuff at him by now and yelling. It was why he glued most things of value down or locked them up. Of course, seeing a priceless vase coming at him, the small table it sat glued on soaring as well, wasn’t necessarily an improvement.

He decided to test the waters by truly pointing out why she should be trying to choke him with his own tie. “So you’re not miffed at all that I kidnapped you and married you?”

She shook her head.

Why am I hesitating? Didn’t I ask for a docile mate?
Here she was, ready and willing, except he wasn’t.

How the hell did that work?

He headed back for the decanter of brandy.

Funny how his refusal seemed to spark some anger.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t we be getting to the whole honeymoon part?” she demanded.

He almost dropped the bottle he was pouring. “Our flight leaves shortly. I have a car coming to pick us up in less than fifteen minutes.”

“That’s more than enough time. I think.”

He whirled to face her and wondered at her pensive mien. “You think? How long do your lovers usually take?” And could he have their names that he might hunt them down and eradicate them for having touched her first?

“I wouldn’t know about length. I’m still a virgin.”

The gulp of alcohol hit him wrong, and he sputtered. Choked. He also gasped. She came to his rescue, pounding on his back with vigor.

When he could manage to siphon a small ounce of air, he asked, in a hoarse voice, “What did you say?” Surely he’d misunderstood.

“I said I was a virgin. But not for long. I’m sure you know how to take care of that.”

Indeed he did. Or would, if he could gather his senses.

When he’d asked for innocence, he’d never expected true innocence. Not in one as splendid as her.

Pure and mine.
Surely there was a catch? “You want me to seduce you?”

“You are my husband. Seduction, claiming, whatever you want to call it. I’ve been waiting a long time. I can’t wait to see what it’s like.” She smiled at him, expectation thick in the air around her.

Expectations of him.

Was it him, or had this marriage just taken a troublesome turn? No more was this just a simple joining of bodies. The act of their joining was now fraught with peril. So much pressure now resided on him. A woman’s first time was something she never forgot and, from what he’d heard over the years, not always fondly remembered.

What if she hates it?

His sister had once said something about the deed never being able to live up to the expectation.

What if I fail and she never craves my touch again?

Unacceptable.

Teena’s first time had to be perfect. Utterly memorable.

With him.

He needed more alcohol.

Even though he faced away from her, she drew near, her hand upon his back in a gesture of consolation. “I seem to have upset you. I’m sorry for being a virgin. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

She is sorry for being pure?
He almost choked again. Slamming the glass down, he whirled to face her. He got sucked in by those beguiling eyes, taken down by the mesmerizing gaze and virgin body of his wife. He wanted to roar and whimper at the same time. “I find your status incredibly attractive.”

“Why do I sense a but coming?”

“But I am now perhaps wondering if my hasty actions were wrong. A woman such as you deserves a proper wooing. A perfect seduction. And thus, you shall have it,” he resolved in that moment in a stroke of genius to give him time.

His announcement brought a puzzled crease to her brow. “I don’t think I understand.” 

“As you’ve noted, we are married, and while it is my husbandly right to partake of the carnal pleasures this legal bond brings, I shall abstain and give you the proper wooing you deserve.” He’d flirt and tease and tempt her until she begged for him to take her. Then, and only then, would he dare breach her while she was at the height of passion.

“Let me get this straight. You kidnap me and, while I’m still under the influence of drugs, have me hitched to you so you can claim me, but because I’m a virgin, you’re not going to sleep with me.”

How he loved her quick wit. “Exactly.” He beamed at her.

She, on the other hand, sighed and muttered, “Well, isn’t that just like my luck to screw me once again?”

Displeasure marked her words, yet that was all she did. She didn’t argue. Or throw things. Nor did she try to escape.

She sat back on the couch, the unbroken side, which, as if to taunt her, also collapsed. But Teena didn’t flinch, just tucked her legs on the now even sofa.

The spot beside her called. Hell, everything about her called to him.

But no, he didn’t trust himself to get that close, despite her seeming distress. Proximity would lead to kissing. Kissing would lead to touching. Touching would lead to him taking her like an animal on the cramped furniture, and he would ruin her first time. Ruin their future sex life.

No. He’d wait. The only problem with waiting was it hurt—and turned a certain part of his body blue. But at least he respected his new bride.

A shame she didn’t appreciate it.

Just what does a virgin wife have to do to get debauched?

Teena really wanted to know. Offering herself hadn’t worked. Telling her husband he would be her one and only seemed to set off a state of panic. Would she have to tie Dmitri down and have her way with him?

The idea had merit, if she had the guts to go through with it, but she didn’t. Only too easily she could imagine the disaster if she went that route. The use of ropes, or even a belt, might result in a loss of circulation to his limbs. Throwing herself at him could result in bodily harm.

Daddy might be able to handle his baby girl, but other men tended to get squashed. Not that Teena knew this first-hand, but she’d heard enough stories from her sister, Meena, and helped her send enough “Hope that broken collarbone mends soon,” cards to know it happened.

If Teena had the guts, she would have stripped, right down to her birthday suit.

Resist that!

However, shyness wouldn’t let her.

It seemed, even married, she was doomed to fail with men. One man. Her husband.
My mate.

Despite his initial attempt to marry her sister, Teena had now spent enough time with him to come to one certainty. Dmitri was hers.

As in her soul mate. Her one and only. Her man.

Now if only the brash Russian she’d met would make her certainty a reality instead of putting her off with a misguided notion that she needed wooing.

The limo ride to the airport was a quiet one. She sat across from him, watching as he made calls, speaking in Russian, the rolling cadence of the foreign words a sensual delight. Was he the type to purr Russian endearments in her ear? Maybe one day she’d find out.

When he hung up, she asked, “That sounded pretty serious. Problems?”

“Nothing unusual. Just my sister and mother, being brought up to speed on our current situation.”

“Are they upset that you married me without them there?”

“I am their lord. It does not matter.”

She arched a brow at his arrogant statement.

He laughed. “Okay, I heard a long spiel about how I was an ungrateful son robbing a mother of her chance to throw a lavish wedding and show those other clan upstarts how royalty weds. Whereas, my sister said I was a boorish ass who needed to get clubbed over the head for acting like a Neanderthal.”

She couldn’t help a smile. Despite his complaints, she could hear the fondness in his voice. “You sound close to your family. Do you live with them?”

A grimace twisted his lips. “Yes. But I assure you my home is quite large. While they are situated in the east wing, we have the entire west wing to ourselves.”

“Wings? Just how large is this place?”

He gave a negligent wave of his hand. “The size doesn’t matter.”

The imp in her, the one that had obviously heard her sister one too many times, retorted, “Funny, I was always told by the girls that it’s all about the size. The bigger, the better.”

While her own words didn’t make her blush, his reply did. “I assure you, I have more than enough size to please you, little kitten. And my oral skills are to scream for.”

The ardent flare in his eyes stole her breath, and she thought, for a moment, he would lunge from his seat and join her, maybe kiss her, except his damned phone rang and broke the spell.

Arriving at the airport, they went through a prioritized screening routine, which involved very little checking but a whole bunch of handshaking.

“How did you manage that?” she asked as they exited the main building and headed toward a small plane sitting outside a hangar.

“Manage what?”

“Getting me out of the United States, past all the security clearances. I’d heard they’d cracked down on travelers.”

“I have connections, little kitten. And when those fail, a little bit of money helps ease the way.”

How ironic that she, the one who strove the hardest to follow the rules, ended up married to the guy determined to break all of them.

He’s the complete opposite of me.

Perhaps she was being stupid. How would this work? Did this crazy marriage stand a chance?

Yes.

It took her inner feline to remind her that her prim and proper mother was happily married to their less-than-law-abiding dad.

The question was, would they end up being as in love as her parents?

Time would tell. Or Daddy would kill him.

Aboard Dmitri’s private jet, Teena lounged on a creamy soft leather seat while watching Dmitri tap away at his tablet, his brows drawn together in a frown. Tension rolled from him.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Had his mother expressed her unhappiness some more in written words?

“Two more in my clan have gone missing. That makes five in as many months.”

“Did they move away?” It wasn’t uncommon for grown shifters to change places. It made the prospect of finding a suitable mate more likely.

“No, they didn’t move. One left behind a pregnant wife while the other was engaged to be married. They seem to have disappeared without taking anything with them, not even their identity cards or any belongings.”

She joined him in frowning. “That is odd. Do you have enemies? Could they have perhaps taken them in order to try and manipulate you?”

He snorted. “Of course I have enemies. I would not be a proper leader if I did not have any. Yet, usually feints at my power come with taunts and the identity of the responsible party for glory.”

It was scary enough that she was leaving her world and family behind, but the idea she might walk into danger caused a momentary flutter. “Are we in danger?”

“I will not let you come to harm.” Spoken with the utmost confidence.

She believed him, which was what gave her the boldness to move from the chair to his side then his lap.

To his credit, he didn’t gasp when she dropped in his lap—and nothing cracked—but he did sound wary when he asked, “What are you doing?”

Doing what she’d observed her mother do when she wanted something from her father. Then again, given how many times she’d observed her parents disappear behind their solid oak door, her mother had never had to work this hard at seduction.

Teena draped her arms around his neck and leaned in close. The plane lurched as it rolled in to motion.

Bonk.

She rubbed her noggin.  “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, little kitten. Accidents happen.”

“More often than you can imagine,” was her dry retort.

Now seated in his lap, she found herself at a loss. He’d yet to dump her on her butt, but he’d also not done anything other than loosely hold her either.

Did he welcome her advance? Had she proved too forward?”

He stroked a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “You are nervous.” Stated, not asked.

“A little nervous.”

“Is it the plane? Are you afraid of flying?”

She shook her head.

“Then why the trepidation?”

She wondered if he was being deliberately obtuse. Then again, he had his own way of looking at the world. Perhaps he truly didn’t know what had her on edge. “You make me nervous.”

“Me?”

She nodded.

Both his brows raised high. “That makes no sense. You seated yourself on my lap. If my proximity bothers you, then why do that?”

She squirmed, her spot atop his thighs made interesting by the growing bulge under her bottom. At least one question was answered. He did desire her.

“I sat here because I wanted to.” She did, but now wondered at her choice. He didn’t seem very receptive. Maybe she should move.

His arms closed around her. “I am pleased that you are not frightened by me. Or is this a ploy to get me to relax so you can kill me?”

“You have a really suspicious mind.”

“A man in my position always has to wonder at the ulterior motives of others.”

“Even your wife’s?” she asked.

“Especially those close to me. It is often those you trust most that betray you the worst.”

How sad he sounded. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“More like the past. A past long gone. Long forgotten, and nothing to do with our future.”

“Our future—Eep.” The plane lifted from the ground with a sudden twitch, and gravity sucked at her.

Lucky her, Dmitri was belted in, and even luckier, he held on to her firmly. He laughed. “Fear not, I have you.”

Indeed he did, and as their gazes meshed, heat ignited between them. She leaned toward him, and he met her halfway, his lips finding hers for a sensuous embrace. Nibble. Suck. A tender pulling of willing flesh.

He kissed her and tasted her as if she were the most delicious treat ever, his soft sounds of enjoyment making her squirm in his lap.

She let her hands roam his broad shoulders, trusting him to hold her up, to keep her from falling.

How wide he seemed, the breadth of him absolutely delightful. The ridge of hard muscle met her questing palms as she smoothed them over his upper body, exploring all the parts she could.

When the plane leveled off, he joined the quest, his hands stroking her back, sliding under her shirt, the shock of his fingers dancing on her skin making her breathing hitch.

Oh how she wanted more. The decadent thrust of his tongue into her mouth saw her groaning. How could the sensual slide of their tongues prove so arousing?

The heat between them should have burned their clothes to ashes. She almost wished it would so she could feel his skin. Touch the flesh hidden from her.

Instead, she hit the damned floor as a massive jolt shook the plane, dumping her from his lap.

She might not have glared so hard if his sputtered, “Little kitten, are you all right?” hadn’t been followed with laughter.

“Not funny,” she grumbled as she stood then stumbled as the plane lurched again.

The intercom on the plane crackled to life. “Please note we are experiencing turbulence. It is recommended you buckle into a seat, as it could get more violent.” Said in a voice even more accented than Dmitri’s.

Plopping back onto the couch, she located a belt and buckled it. Foiled by bad weather.

But hopeful now.

He wants me.
And one thing was for sure. She wanted him too.