Sebastian Aristide (Bayou Heat)(21)

“Can we talk?” she asked.

His dark eyes lifted to meet hers and he nodded. “Are you hungry?”

That question had so many different meanings to her in that moment, it was crazy, but all she said to him was, “Yes.”

After placing a pan of something that looked absolutely delicious, and smelled even better, on the table, Aristide came around and eased back one of the wood dining chairs. “Please. Sit.”

Really? Kat mused with a touch of sad humor. Manners, too? Seriously, this man had to have a rotten side. He had to be hiding something. He had to have an ulterior motive for the way he was treating her.

He does, Kat. He wants information about Marco.

Aristide sat down in the chair opposite her and picked up a chicken leg. “Dig in, Katherine. You need to regain your strength.”

Yes, to escape, her mind tossed out quickly. But she pushed that truth back for the moment.

“You made this?” she asked, fork in hand.

“Only the bread pudding,” he said, his eyes warm as he studied her. “The rest was donated to the cause.”

“What cause is that?” she asked, curious.

His mouth twitched with amusement. “The lonely workaholic bachelor fund.”

She laughed. “Ah, that. So, no woman?”

His eyes darkened. “Not officially.”

The way he was looking at her, it was almost as if he knew what she looked like without her clothes on. Heat surged into her and pooled low in her belly. Eyes down, she stabbed a piece of the bread pudding with her fork and popped it into her mouth. The moment it hit her tongue, she sighed. It was delicious. It was him. This man. Warm and comforting, yet with every bite, more and more addictive. She mentally rolled her eyes—at herself and at such foolishly sensual thoughts.

“Do you have any family?” she asked him, abandoning the pudding for the chicken.

“A sister,” he told her. “But she’s mated. To my best friend. She’s the donator of the chicken.”

“You miss her.” It wasn’t a question, and Kat wondered if she’d crossed a line with the observation.

But Aristide didn’t seem put out at all. “Family’s a tricky thing,” he said, popping orange slices into his mouth. “You appreciate them more when they’re not around,” he added.

His words had Kat’s shoulders falling, and her appetite receding. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Aristide. For the first time that day, his eyes grew cool.

“You miss your male?” he asked tightly.

She placed her chicken down and sighed. “Yes. I suppose he’s my male. And I miss him very much.”

Aristide also stopped eating. His jaw looked very tense now. “Where is he? This male of yours? Home waiting for you?”

Why was he getting so irritated? Kat chewed her lip. He had no idea what was going on with her little male. No idea how scared she was, how she counted the seconds until she could see him again.

“Is he one of our enemies, Katherine?”

The question brought Kat’s head up. “What? Who?”

Aristide’s eyes narrowed, the plate of food on the table before him now completely forgotten. “This Noah.”

Enemy? Was he serious?

“Tell me, Katherine,” he said forcefully, his glittering, black eyes narrowing. “Is he the one who wishes Ashe’s child harm?”

“Oh my god!” She pushed away from the table and stood up. “Hurt a child? No! God, no! Look, I had no idea why Marco wanted me to write the article. I had the connection to the online magazine and he used me for it. I hate that I did it.” Tears pricked her eyes and her voice grew shaky. She couldn’t stand him looking at her with that dark, probing stare. Couldn’t stand how weak and foolish she was.

“Excuse me. I need some air.” She turned from him and went to the door leading to the backyard. Yes, she needed air, but more than anything she needed his probing gaze off of her. He had a way about him that sucked her in, and made her feel like unleashing everything that was on her heart. And shit, she’d said too much. She prayed she hadn’t risked Noah with her outburst. She blinked back tears. She was lost. So lost. She had to get out of here and see her baby.

Strong yet gentle hands cupped her shoulders and turned her around. And a voice, so soothing, so masculine, hummed in her ears.

“Look at me,” Aristide said. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. She was afraid of what she’d see there. Pity? Attraction? Disappointment? Or worst of all, a mask of honor she’d want desperately to believe in. Her gaze lifted. But on that tan, sharply angled, devastatingly handsome face was only an expression of curiosity.

“Who is Noah, Katherine?” he asked, his warm breath moving over her face.

She couldn’t stop the words, the truth. Not from him, and she didn’t know why. “My son,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “My five-year-old son.”

Aristide’s mouth formed a thin line. “And this Marco?”

“Noah’s biological father, and a mistake I made when I was young and stupid. I thought I was in love with him.” She shrugged, feeling the weight of the secret she’d held onto lift. “I only knew him for a month.”

“And the boy is with him now?” Aristide asked, his voice near to a growl.

“Yes.”

“Does this Marco hold your child hostage, Katherine?”

The look on Aristide’s face made Kat draw back. It was so fearsome, so unlike the man who had made her lunch just a few minutes ago. This was as close to a pissed off animal as he could look without shifting.

“Marco has no rights to him,” she said. “He doesn’t want him. Never has. And I thanked god for that every day.”

“But…” Aristide ground out.

This was it. Telling him the truth—what would it cost her? And yet she couldn’t lie to him. Something was there, between them now. He’d pulled her out of that wrecked car, and he’d held her close and soothed her during her nightmare. Maybe it was a foolish and inconvenient attraction, but neither one of them could deny it’s amazing strength.

“Marco took him.” Kat’s voice trembled and tears rolled down her cheeks. “He said he wouldn’t give him back to me unless I wrote the article.”

“The article that makes us look like a threat,” Aristide finished. Then his brows knit together. “The police? Have you gone to them?”

Kat laughed, but it was dull, sad sound. “He warned me against doing that.”

A soft growl exited Aristide’s throat. “But you’ve written it. Why do you still not have your boy?”

Kat’s heart lurched and she shook her head. “He wants one more,” she said. “It’s why I’ve been working at The Cougar’s Den.” Her eyes implored him as the tears continued to fall. “I need you to believe me. I didn’t know why I was writing that horrible article, just that if I didn’t I’d never see my son again.”

Aristide released a heavy breath and brought his hand around to cup her face. He gently brushed away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “I believe you, Katherine. I believe you.”





CHAPTER 5





“She’s no enemy,” Aristide declared.

With twilight descending, he stood at the darkening shore of the bayou just outside Medical, the leader of the Hunters on his left, his sister, Amalie, on the other. As a Hunter herself, Mal was fully aware of what was going on both with the threat to the Pantera and with Aristide’s houseguest.

“How can you say that after what she’s done?” Parish asked him. “Everything she’s written? Knowing none of it was true.”

“Because I know her motivations,” Aristide said. “Her belief that if she didn’t write whatever this Marco wanted her to write, her child would be harmed.”

“Maybe she just wants you to feel sorry for her,” Amalie suggested. “Maybe she just wanted to get into the Wildlands, get another story.”

“Well, then this one would actually be true, wouldn’t it?” he countered.

Parish sneered, his gold eyes darkening to amber in the dying light of day. “I should never have allowed you to take her home.”

The puma inside of Aristide snarled. “You could never have stopped it.”

“Goddammit, Aristide, you’re not taking this seriously!”

A deadly calm moved over Aristide. “You’re very wrong about that. I will get you this Marco’s location.”

Parish’s eyebrows lifted.

“How?” Amalie asked.

“I’m certain he’s connected to the assassins,” Aristide said, looking out over the moonlit bayou. His home, the one he would always protect. “Maybe we can stop him before their plan can be carried out.”

“We?” Amalie repeated slowly.

He turned to face her. “I’m going with you.”

Mal blanched. “Ari, you’re no Hunter.”

Aristide shook his head. “No negotiations. You take out the assassins before they can get to Ashe and the cub, and I’ll get Katherine’s boy.”

“And do what with him?” Parish demanded. “Bring him here?”

Aristide nodded.

“We can’t house a human, Ari,” Amalie said. “Not for any length of time, anyway.”