looked as if the cat went in." He spoke matter-of-factly, treating her as an equal, forcing her to do the same with him. He opened the bottle of polish and frowned at the smell.
MaryAnn flashed him a smile of gratitude for addressing Solange as if he didn't notice she could barely tolerate his presence in the room. It had probably been several years since Solange had been in the casual company of a man.
"I have a rather acute sense of smell," Manolito added, "and I couldn't detect a man within the cat, although the trail was several hours old. How do you tell the difference between a shifter and a genuine jaguar without being able to scan their brain? He wasn't close enough for me to pick up his brain patterns."
MaryAnn wanted to fling her arms around Manolito's neck and hug him.
I have learned a few things from being in your mind. His voice was a drawling caress. Her toes twitched, wanting to curl, and the brush, slick with polish, landed on her toe instead of the toenail.
Solange had been watching the process, fascinated by the sight of a large Carpathian male, essentially a predator, delicately polishing his lifemate's toenails. Her mouth twitched and she had to look away as Manolito glared at MaryAnn.
"Hold still."
"I am holding still. You did that thing."
"What thing?" Manolito asked.
You looked sexy and gorgeous and sounded like heat in the middle of a rainstorm. Behave yourself.
Solange cleared her throat. "When the jaguar-man travels, he usually carries a small pack around his neck." Her voice sounded low and husky, as if she rarely used it. She didn't look directly at Manolito, but she wasn't snarling. And she continued to work on Juliette's toes, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Often when he leaps for the tree, the bag rubs a small amount of moss off the trunk or branch. It's very small, but once you know what to look for, you can spot it."
"When we get back to the ranch, maybe you could take the time to show me," Manolito said. "That way when we go on our patrols, we'll know what we're looking for." His voice was every bit as casual as Solange's. He bent forward to blow on MaryAnn's toes.
"Sure."
Silence fell, but it was companionable, not filled with tension. MaryAnn looked around the room at the women who had become her family. At the man who was her heart and soul, and she found herself smiling.
Manolito looked up, his black eyes meeting hers. Her heart jumped the way it always would when she looked at him, when she got lost in his gaze.
I love you, avio palafertul. "My lifemate. My wife."
I love you, too, avio palafertul, koje. "My lifemate. My husband."
It didn't get much better.