“Come inside, Katherine,” he said in a calm voice.
Damn, she liked his voice. Liked it way too much. It made her feel safe somehow, no matter how insane that sounded in the situation she was in. Because no matter what, no matter where she was, she had to remember that she was still a prisoner. A prisoner who had to find a way to escape.
She walked past him into the house and saw that the interior of the place was just as comfortable and well appointed as the outside. Warm rugs and leather couches…desks and artwork, and a fireplace. Her heart sank a touch inside her chest. She’d always dreamed of having a place like this for herself and Noah. She wondered if, after all of this, after it was over, she could really have a normal life.
“Come. Let me show you your room,” Aristide said, leading her down the short hallway that was lit by skylights. “Bathroom is there,” he said, gesturing to the end of the corridor. “And this is where you’ll stay.”
This is the most perfect room in the world, she thought the very second she stepped into the large, warm and incredibly inviting space.
“My sister fixed it up as a guestroom before she moved out,” Aristide explained behind her. “It’s a little too white and has way more flowers than I’m comfortable with, but if I don’t have to sleep in it then I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said in a whisper, taking in the rosebud wallpaper and blush-colored pillows.
“Good. Glad it suits.” He was a quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll let you settle in, rest. You really should rest. Doctors orders.”
“Wait,” Kat blurted out, her back to him. “Why, Aristide?”
“What?”
She turned around and stared at him. At this man who, because of his size and muscles and intensely black stare, should be feared. But to Kat, his presence gave her peace and warmth, and—dare she think it—hope?
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why did you bring me here? Why wouldn’t you just leave me in the hospital, let them keep me hostage?”
His eyes remained a dark, calm sea. “Would you like to return, Katherine?”
She shivered. “No.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what my reasons are, does it?”
“Yes, it matters,” she said with a touch of heat. God, she was so confused, so scared. She hated being scared. She needed Noah, needed to know he was all right and that Marco was keeping his word. Maybe she could find a phone, or borrow Aristide’s cell. She’d lost hers in the wreck. But would he let her contact anyone?
“People don’t do nice things for no reason,” she said.
“I have no doubt of that,” he agreed, leaning against the doorjamb. A sudden glimmer of amusement lit his eyes. “But I’m not people, Katherine. I’m Pantera.”
His words—no, that one word—entered her body and melted like sweet chocolate. Oh, if only she could believe in the goodness of others again. That a man could be honorable, faithful…
“What does that mean, exactly?” she asked. “You must want something from me.”
His eyes shuttered and he nodded. “I want the truth. And I want to protect you.”
“But why? I’m nothing to you.”
He started for the door. “Rest now. We’ll speak about this later.”
“You’re not going to chain me down or lock me in?”
“There’s nowhere you can escape to that my puma can’t find,” he called over his shoulder before closing the door to her room.
His words pulsing in her brain, Kat plopped down on the bed, on the snowy white comforter. Oh, lord, she wanted to believe him. What he’d said about protecting her, and how he’d said it. He’d looked so sincere, like he truly meant it—like he might have some burgeoning feelings for her.
Idiot. Have you learned nothing from your relationship with Marco? Your mistakes? You cannot risk Noah’s life, his future, by risking your heart again.
Katherine knew Marco wouldn’t hurt Noah, not if there was another story possibility in the works. But she needed to get to him to tell him so.
Lying back on the bed, she gazed out the window at the lush green Wildlands, every leaf, every blade of grass glistening in the warm light of the sun. Night would be the best time for her escape. When Aristide was asleep. And when the beautiful Wildlands she’d trashed so successfully grew still and silent and cool.
CHAPTER 4
Aristide was a shit cook. Normally he grabbed midday meal with the Pantera outside near the bayou, but today was different. Ashe was in labor and everyone was on edge. No one wanted to sit still long enough to eat anything. And then there was the fact that he had a guest in his home.
A guest.
His nostrils flared. What was he doing, calling her that? Having her here under the guise of finding out information about the Pantera’s enemies when, even now, his puma purred beneath his skin? The annoying animal was finally content for the first time since he’d scented Katherine Burke at The Cougar’s Den. Aristide wished he knew what it meant, and how this would all turn out in the end.
Stepping back, he assessed the meal he’d prepared for them. Fried chicken, one of the Geeks had made for Xavier and Amalie. But, as usual, his best friend and his sister had brought some over for the poor, hungry bachelor. And there was fruit, and of course, bread pudding. It was the one thing Aristide could actually make with success, and without a kitchen fire. His mom had taught him how before she’d passed. Thought it was important for a male to know how to cook a desert. “Sweets to catch a sweetie someday,” she would say. Just the thought of those special times made Aristide’s guts twist painfully. He missed them. His parents. Even Amalie now. Shit, he missed having a family.
The scream that rent the air tore Aristide from his thoughts and made the blood in his veins turn cold. The woman. Was she hurt? Had someone gotten into his home?
Abandoning the food, he tore out of the kitchen and ran down the hall. When he reached her room, he wasted no time knocking. He wrenched the door open and burst inside. He found her fully clothes and writhing on the bed, moaning, twisted in the sheets. Midday sunlight washed over her face, illuminating the sheen of sweat as she continued to dream.
Relief snaked through Aristide’s body. No one harmed her. He rushed the bed until he stood over her. She was still asleep, her mind conjuring fearful images or scenarios. His puma wanted out. It wanted to crawl on top of the mattress and lie beside her, lick her face until she awoke from whatever hell she was finding herself in.
Goddamn cat!
“Noah!” she screamed, lying flat on her back, her face and neck muscles tense. “Please, Noah. No! Don’t take him!”
Aristide didn’t know who this Noah was—if he was Katherine Burke’s male—but he didn’t care, and neither did his puma. He only wanted to soothe her.
He knelt on the bed, gently gripped her shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position. “It’s all right, Katherine,” he said softly. “You’re dreaming.”
Instantly, her arms went around his neck, and she burst into tears. But her eyes remained closed. She was crying. In her sleep! Christ.
“Noah, I’m coming,” she whimpered. “I swear I’m coming.”
“Hush, now. Everything’s all right.” Aristide started rocking her like he remembered his own parents rocking him when he was a small, scared cub.
“I need him,” Katherine cried into Aristide’s chest. “I love him.”
A quick flash of unmistakable jealously moved through Aristide as he felt her body relax, as he felt her come awake. And he was glad for it because having her in his arms, soothing her, scenting her, was doing something to him. And not just behind his zipper. He was connecting with her on a level that was inappropriate for the situation they found themselves in. She was not here for his pleasure, or to bond with him. She was a possible link to the Pantera’s enemies, and he needed to release her, get up and walk away before he did something stupid. Before he pulled her even closer and forced her eyes to his. Before he told her that right now, raging inside of him, was an animal that wouldn’t allow another male to get close to her ever again—touch her ever again.
“You’re all right now, Katherine,” he said almost formally, easing her back, placing her against the pillows.
“Aristide,” she began, her voice still thick with tears. “I…I’m sorry. I was dreaming about—”
But Aristide was already on his feet and headed for the door. He didn’t want to know. “It’s nothing, Katherine. Nothing at all.”
Fifteen minutes later, her face washed and her head clear, Kat ventured out into the hallway. She was mortified by what had happened, how she’d reacted, and she felt she needed to give this man—this man who had been so kind to her—some semblance of an explanation.
She found him in the kitchen, setting a small table with knives and forks and plates with delicious looking food piled on them. For two. Him and her, presumably. A sweet warmth coated Kat’s insides at the strange, yet very sexy sight. This six-foot-two beast of man, with all his muscles and tightly caged ferocity, fixing lunch. She’d never seen anything like it. Experienced anything like it—like him. Total maleness on the outside and compassionate, nurturing soul on the inside.