“Late?” She looked around for a clock, but didn’t see one. How late was it?
“Nothing to worry about.” Jean-Baptiste growled, kissed her thoroughly, then flipped the sheets back and sat up. “And the beignets are only part of the surprise.”
“Really?” The time was momentarily forgotten as she caught sight of his smooth, broad back and the spear tattoo running up the length of his spine. God, he was truly mouthwatering. “Are you spoiling me, Mr. Baptiste?” she purred.
He glanced over his shoulder, gave her a heavy-lidded, highly sexual grin. “All day, every day, Miss Burel.”
Heat rushed through her. “Tell me.”
“I took care of our little problem.”
Confusion intermingled with the heat inside her and she came up on her knees. “What do you mean?”
He stood, lifted an eyebrow. “Isi is in the Wildlands.”
Genevieve’s lips parted, but nothing came out. No breath, no gasp, no words. Even though the sun was shining outside the glass doors, the room suddenly took on a gray cast, and inside Genevieve’s brain, electric shocks of fear and warning detonated.
No. He couldn’t have…she couldn’t have…
“I took her there myself,” he continued, standing gloriously naked before her. “It’s done, ma chérie. Our mission is complete, and we can stay here all—”
“No!” The word came out harsh and fearful, and Genevieve wasted no time in scrambling off the bed. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” What time is it? How long did we sleep?
“Genevieve? What the hell’s wrong?”
Everything. God, how could she be so stupid? So careless? How could she have allowed herself to forget the point of this trip in a one-night-of-meaningless-fun sinkhole? Shit, the one road to her future…
What the hell time was it?
“Genevieve,” Jean-Baptiste said again, this time with a growl attached.
“It’s over,” she said, grabbing clothes out of her bag and throwing them on.
“What’s over?” His voice was low, wary.
“My career. My shot.” Finding a way to fix the broken magic in my family. Where was the damned clock?
“What are you talking about? Raphael’s thrilled.”
She hastily toed on her shoes and zipped up her bag. “I have to go. Right now. I have to go.” I have to see if I can repair this damage. Beg the elders for a second chance.
“I thought this would please you. I thought…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll call for the car.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take a cab. I can get back on my own.” She wouldn’t make this mistake again. She’d swear it to them.
“Okay, this is bullshit.” Jean-Baptiste was at her side in a second, naked and tense, grabbing her by the arms. “Look at me.”
She stilled. She didn’t want to. God, she didn’t want to. When she looked at him, bad things happened. Bad things that masqueraded as amazing, wonderful, perfect, future-killing, things. But her eyes slid up anyway. And as she met his gaze, saw the confusion and the heat and his desperate need to understand her, her heart squeezed. And her mind whispered traitorously. Love?
“Is this about bringing Isi in yourself?” he asked. “Wanting to impress Raphael? First assignment kind of thing?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She shook her head, bit her lip.
“You need to talk to me.”
“I have to go.”
“Not yet.”
“You don’t get to hold me here,” she said, her throat tight. “I want to go.”
“You want me,” he said, his face a mask of hunger and heat.
Oh, god.
“You want me, Miss Burel. Say it.”
“Of course I want you!”
“Then stop this. This ranting. This fear.” He released her shoulders and took her face in his hands. “I’m here with you, Genny. Don’t you understand that? You know how I feel, what I want—what I’m offering. My life is yours now. It’s insane and too fast, but it’s right. We both feel it. All I want to do is be with you, care for you, protect you.” His eyes searched her. “Whatever the problem is, I can fix it. Just tell me. Talk to me.”
She shook her head, her throat raw and tight.
“Yes,” he assured her. “It’s what males do for their females.”
Never in her life had someone looked at her this way. Wanted her this way. Utterly and unabashedly. And yet, she couldn’t embrace him. She’d chosen her path, made her commitment to the elders. And you didn’t go back on that. Not unless you wished to incur their wrath. Her family needed her now. And as she'd found out with her parents, running off, giving in to selfish choices, wasn't going to solve the problem of the busted magic attacking her family.
His voice deepened to a possessive growl. “I’ve claimed you, Genny. I nearly marked you with my teeth a moment ago, for fuck’s sake. And if we’d been inside the Wildlands, if I’d had access to my puma’s claws, I would have.”
She gasped then, her eyes going wide. All that he’d said when she was in his arms, beneath him, in front of him, crying out his name, came back in a rush. Yes, he’d offered for her and she’d allowed her mind to dismiss it. Pretend it never happened so she could enjoy the little bit of heaven she’d wanted so desperately. But now, looking up into his fierce, darkly handsome face, she could no longer dismiss it. The beautiful, perfect offer, and the ugly truth.
“No one can claim me, Jean-Baptiste,” she said with such deep regret it was palpable. “I’m not a Suit. Not anymore. I work for the elders. I can never be this way with you again. And I can never be your mate.”
Chapter 7
Dusk was settling over the bayou, soft and quiet and milky. The massive sable puma watched the one he wanted above all others scamper off into the trees, her nearly white gold pelt acting as a beacon, a spotlight. He wanted to run after her, block her path, growl at her, hiss at her. At least until she listened to reason, maybe dropped to her belly and let him curl up beside her again, lick her fur. But Genevieve Burel was determined to get to the elders, plead with them to forgive her and allow her back into their fold. And Jean-Baptiste had decided to let her.
He turned in a circle, snarling softly. She’d lied to him. And yet, how could he be angry with her? He’d lied to her, too.
He opened his mouth to scent her one last time, pull the sweet, delicate fragrance of her and her cat into his nostrils, then took off in the opposite direction. He’d give her twenty-four hours to come to her senses, listen to herself, her body, and her cat. Twenty-four hours to realize they belonged together. Twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that the elders were her past, and Jean-Baptiste was her future. Then he was going in.
Clock starts now, Miss Burel.
He yowled at a few black puma Hunters on patrol near the edge of the yellow cow lily-strewn bayou. They returned his call, and he continued on, weaving in and out of a stand of oak, catching the scents of Hunters and Suits among the pitcher plants and wild bee balm as he headed for town. Though his heart hurt like a motherfucker, he wanted to check on Ashe, Raphael, and on Isi. See what progress was being made. See if the voodoun was awake and plotting his demise.
The village was buzzing like the cave-top hive he’d stumbled upon as a cub when he broke through a patch of anise shrub. Must be close to evening meal, Jean-Baptiste thought, heading down one of the side streets. The Pantera pumas were all shifting into their human forms, waving goodbye to friends, rushing out of shops, making their way toward their residences. Baptiste spotted the clinic ahead and picked up speed. A few pumas, still in their cat forms, jumped out of his way, hissing, but Baptiste didn’t slow. Already up the steps and inside, he headed for his office, a place he’d hardly been in the last few months. He’d claimed to be either ill or working from home. He hadn’t wanted to risk a problem with his cat. But he didn’t have that problem anymore, did he? he mused, bursting into the lab. Not since Genevieve.