King's Throne (10 page)

Mitch looked sharply at Gina, but she refused to meet his eye. Was she involved with someone? It didn’t seem possible. Nothing she had done to this point indicated she had a fiancé or boyfriend. Had he been wrong? Was she obligated to someone else? It didn’t seem possible.

Mitch almost shook his head in denial but caught himself. He knew women and he knew how they acted when they were in a committed relationship. Gina didn’t give off any of the signals. Perhaps her father was just talking generally. She was of an age to be taking a mate. It would be natural. But Mitch sincerely doubted there was a candidate waiting in the wings.

Unless the royal family indulged in such archaic practices as arranging marriages for their children. Mitch didn’t think so, but who knew what these exiled royals had been driven to in their lonely existence?

Cats were loners at times, but it wasn’t quite natural to be so isolated. Mitch hoped for their sake that they had a larger community of exiled tigers around them. Socializing with the Millers and their progeny was all well and good, but shifters needed more than just a few of their own. They needed the community. They needed the support and social structure to ground them and keep them human.

“The Clan is in shambles,” Candis spoke unexpectedly, drawing Mitch away from his troubling thoughts and back into the conversation. “While we do not participate in the politics or activities of those we have left behind, we do hear things,” she explained, her troubled gaze focused on Mitch. “For too long, we have sat by and done nothing.
Could
do nothing. It has been both frustrating and heartbreaking to see what has become of our beloved people. But I think the Lady has shown us clearly today that things are about to change.
You’re
going to change them, praise the Mother of All.”

“While I appreciate your confidence in me, I have to admit it all seems rather…” Mitch trailed off, unable to come up with adequate words. He sighed heavily, running one hand through his disheveled hair. “My apologies. I just don’t know what to think.”

The king sat back in his chair and placed his palms flat against the table, his gaze troubled but patient. “That’s all right, son. A lot has happened to you in a very short time. I’d have been surprised if you didn’t question all this.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “Read the history. Study the Rule. Get back your strength. I’m always available to discuss anything you need. In the meantime…” He stood and everyone else followed suit. “I hear you’ve asked one of the Miller boys to spar.” The statement came out sounding like a question.

“Paul agreed to help me get back in shape. All this lying around is getting on my nerves.” Mitch grimaced and the king laughed outright, clapping him on the shoulder in a fatherly way.

“It is hard for a man of action to sit and watch from the sidelines. Believe me, I understand.”

Mitch heard the regret in
Frederick’s voice and knew the sincerity of his words. What must it be like for this vital, intelligent man to have had to stand by and watch his brother usurp the power that rightly belonged to the king alone? Torture, Mitch decided. A very special, very painful form of torture.

The king and queen left shortly thereafter, promising to come back for lunch the next day as well. Mitch knew he had a lot of reading ahead of him, but he was looking forward to it. He’d always enjoyed studying history—especially the history of their people.

But right now, Mitch needed to stretch his muscles more than anything. He craved a hard workout. Either that or a marathon session of hot tiger sex with claws out and all that entailed. Since the latter wasn’t forthcoming, he’d have to settle for the former. Of course, it was for his own good. If he had to fight a challenge in the coming weeks, he sure as hell had better prepare.

Coming as close to death as he’d been, he had a ways to work to get back both his streng
th and his speed. He would probably take a pounding at Paul’s hands today, but Mitch looked forward to it with an animalistic glee. The tiger inside him wanted to stretch its muscles and try out its new fur—and any new abilities that might come with it. Mitch was a man of action, as the king had pointed out. Both sides of his nature had been sitting still for far too long.

Mitch helped Gina clean the kitchen area and wash the dishes
and then went to change. He’d wear a T-shirt and sweat pants to spar with Paul. Loose clothes that wouldn’t hinder his movements. After putting them on, Mitch moved to the center of the room and began a series of stretches. He’d have to do more before engaging in mock battle with Paul down in the barn later, but it felt so good to stretch out muscles that had been inactive far too long.

It was some time before he realized that Gina was watching him.

She sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, pretending not to notice the play of sinuous muscles under stretchy T-shirt fabric. My, oh my, the man was smokin
g hot. Gina resisted fanning herself by wrapping her hands around the coffee mug.

“See anything you like?”

She’d been caught ogling his ass. Deciding to admit her attraction, she let her gaze roam boldly upward until it met his.

“What would you do if I said yes?” She favored him with what she hoped was a come
-hither smile.

Apparently
, she’d gotten it right. Mitch prowled toward her on silent feet, his gaze holding hers, his stare almost hypnotic. She rose from the chair, carefully placing her coffee cup on the table’s surface, ready as the tension in the room rose with each quiet step. He advanced until he was directly in front of her and then moved closer still, lowering his head toward hers.

“I might do something like this,” he whispered, his lips against hers.

And then he kissed her, taking what she offered and giving in return.

It just felt…right. Everything about Mitch felt right to her inner cat and her outer woman. Everything he did, every touch he gave her, every one of his inner thoughts he shared with her only made her more attracted to him. He was a man of honor that spoke to her own moral code, and he kissed like a dream.

Now if only he would take it beyond just kissing. She was old-fashioned enough to want him to be the aggressor, the dominant. Her inner tigress craved a man who could—and would—demand she give him everything, and give her everything of himself in return.

She sensed Mitch was just the man to do it, but so far, he hadn’t stepped up to the plate. And it would sort of defeat her purpose if she had to tackle him…though she was increasingly tempted to do just that. She wanted him and she wanted him bad. But more than just the physical need, she wanted him to want her and be bold enough to take what he wanted.

As he was doing now. He’d been the one to call her out for ogling him. He’d prowled closer to steal this incredible kiss. Her toes curled at the magical sensations roiling through her bloodstream. And then she realized…it
was
magic. There was some kind of magical exchange happening between them, but it didn’t drain her. In fact, she was gaining energy, not losing it. Was she draining him?

She put her palms against his shoulders and pushed, trying to break the kiss. He didn’t let her go right away, but eventually her urgency seemed to get through to him and he raised his head. His pupils were dilated, as she was pretty sure hers were. Pleasure did that to a tiger.

The hunger in his dark-gold eyes almost made her forget why she’d denied herself more of the incredible pleasure of kissing him. But the dazed look to his features reminded her.

“Am I draining you?” she asked quickly, her voice breathless and her breathing rate still elevated from their kiss.

He shook his head. “What?”

“Power drain. Magic. Do you feel it?” She wasn’t really able to string words together into a full sentence yet
, but he seemed to understand. His golden brows drew together for a moment as he seemed to think about what she’d asked.

“No. If anything, I feel energized. I think you’re giving me power. Are you okay?” His expression turned to one of concern as he focused on her, and his arms gentled, holding her close against his chest almost protectively.

“I’m fine. Great, in fact. I felt a boost in magical energy too.” There. She was able to speak a complete sentence at last. She thought of it as a small victory.

“Really?” Concern turned to intrigue on his face.

She was getting better at reading his strong chin and gorgeous golden eyes. He didn’t give away much, but now that she’d gotten to know him, she could figure out the subtle changes that echoed his mood.

His head dipped lower and she knew he was going to kiss her again…and then the phone rang. The loud bleat of her cell phone broke the spell they’d both been under and he released her. Gina swore silently that she was going to murder whoever it was on the other end of the call.

She stomped over to the end table where her phone lay charging and punched the button after seeing the name on the display. Paul Miller. Drat the man. He was one of her best friends, but he really needed to work on his timing.

“Hey,” she answered abruptly, not wanting to take her frustration out on him, but he heard it anyway.

“Sorry. Bad time?”

Paul didn’t usually tiptoe around her, but their relationship had changed a bit now that he was married and she wasn’t constantly underfoot. When they’d been in school, she’d been his pesky younger sister. Now there was a distance between them that she didn’t like but understood. They’d grown apart a bit. It was only natural, but she missed having him around all the time.

“Coulda been better,” she groused, but her good humor was returning. She could never stay mad at Paul for long. “What’s up?”

“I just called to ask your guest a question or two. My brothers are around and I wanted to know if Mitch didn’t mind having a few more bodies to pummel and be pummeled by.”

It was odd phrasing but she knew what he meant. Paul had a way of overcomplicating the English language that never failed to amuse. Like her, he had been born in Iceland, but he’d been older and had had to learn English as a second language. Gina was lucky in that respect. She’d learned both languages side-by-side as she’d grown up. Paul didn’t have an accent, but he did like to structure his sentences oddly from time to time.

“Hang on a minute
. I’ll give him the phone.” Gina held out the small device to Mitch and he took it, jumping right into the conversation with Paul. Shifter hearing was sharp and he’d heard Paul’s end of the conversation almost as clearly as she had.

The men arranged to meet earlier than previously agreed and
then have dinner at the Miller’s. Mitch ended the call, already gathering a change of clothing in the duffel she’d picked up somewhere along their journey here. She added a few things she wanted to bring with her and within a few minutes, they were ready to go.

They got outside, but there was only the one snow
mobile. They had to ride double down the hill and over the fields to the Miller’s barn. Mitch let her drive, which was only sensible since she’d practically grown up on one of these machines. But having his big body spooning her from behind made it the most…um…exhilarating ride she’d ever had on one of them.

She didn’t feel the cold. Not with Mitch’s big body giving off heat like a furnace. And his arms around her middle made her wish there wasn’t a wad of bulky fabric between them. It made her want his hands to roam up, under her parka and sweater. Up, over the bare skin of her torso and into her bra. Up, over her breasts, cupping them, caressing her nipples.

She had to clear her throat as she pulled the snowmobile up in front of the barn. Damn. He hadn’t even done anything to her and she already needed a moment to calm down. A cold shower might help. Or a roll in the snow. Naked. With Mitch inside her.

Ug. She had to stop thinking about it and quit stalling. She secured the machine as Mitch hefted their two bags and waited in a ready stance. Ever the protector.

She realized once again how close he’d come to dying. And how quickly he’d bounced back. There was deep magic involved, of course, but her analytical side cautioned her to warn him.

Gina stepped close to him, taking one side of his collar in her fingers and stroking him through his jacket. The mood was intimate all of a sudden. Just them, surrounded by snow and the ticking of the engine as it cooled next to them.

“Promise me you’ll be careful. I know you feel better, but it wasn’t too long ago that you were not long for this world. It would…hurt me…if you died, Mitch.”

“Hey.” Mitch cupped her cheek in one big hand, his voice dipping into low and intimate tones. “I’m not going to die. Not today. And I have you to thank for the fact that I didn’t die from the poison. You and your amazing blood.” H
e stroked his thumb up and down over her cheekbone in the most tender of touches. And then he let her go and stepped back. She dropped her hand from his collar. “But if I’m going to stay alive through the challenge, I have to get back into fighting form.”

There it was. The shadow that hung over him. Over them both. The challenge.

She was quickly coming to despise the thought that he was going to have to fight Uncle Gisli. She didn’t know how it all would end, but there was every possibility that Gisli—deadly fighter that he was—would prevail. Just thinking about it broke her heart, but she couldn’t do anything about the future that had yet to form. She had to deal with the here and now.