They didn’t talk, but she did take his hand while they navigated the inlaid brick walkway past a fountain and up a few steps. He opened the summerhouse door and dusted off cushions that sat on a bench built into one wall. The air smelled damp, so he fired the electric brazier; it glowed cherry red from its raised, round dais in the center of the room.
He sat with his back against the wall and his feet propped on the stove’s platform. She curled her body against him. He sensed her waiting for him to say more. “Most of this is not my story to tell. You must ask your father. He worked with Garen for well over a hundred years, both in the Old Country and here in the United States.”
She twisted so she could look at him. “Da was a…a spy?”
Lars nodded. “So he will understand and support you in your new occupation.”
Her forehead creased in concentration and she closed her teeth over her lower lip. “It also means he can keep Mum and everyone safe.” She blew out a tense breath. “Och and that was one of the things that worried me the most, once the deed was done and Jaret was dead. I was scared silly my hare-brained scheme to avenge Moira would mean someone would come after my family. There would have been no living with myself if something happened to them because I was rash and stupid.”
He kissed her forehead and smoothed the concern from it with a gentle hand. “Your father can take care of himself. Bet on it.”
“Why wouldn’t he have said anything?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I know the answer. It’s the same reason we shied away from anything related to being shifters.”
“So long as you brought that up,” Lars settled a hand in her hair, drawing her thick locks through his fingers, “there is one more thing.”
“What might that be?”
“I asked you once, half in jest, if your family had taught you anything about shifters and mating.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You come from old stock, as do I. There are other types of shifters, like those who become lycans when someone bites them. It is different for them than for those of us who inherit our dual form.”
“You’re telling me this for a reason, but for the life of me, I’m not sorting it out.”
“That is because I am not being very clear. Let me start over.” He pulled her head against his chest and caressed it, loving the feel of her hair, and of her next to him. “The shifter mate bond is a gift we old ones bear. It is why I am so drawn to you, and you to me, even before we make love in both our forms. It will take time for you to accept, but you are the only woman for me. And I the only man for you.”
“What if I hadn’t shown up?”
“I gave up on finding my mate long ago, gave up on having children. I am still astonished our paths crossed. To answer you more directly, if I had not met you, I would have continued as I was. My work was my life. At times it was almost enough, and when it was not, I volunteered for particularly dangerous assignments to drive my loneliness away.”
“Well and that clears up why I never could make things stick with a boyfriend.” She snuggled closer. “It feels so right being in your arms, but it’s like a miracle, too, and it’s damned hard to believe in them. Not since I grew up, anyway.”
They sat for long moments with her cradled against him. He knew what he wanted, what he needed. Before he could get the words out, she said, “Today is a day for chances. If you’re willing, I’d like for us to shift and make love.”
His heart cracked and spilled over. Tears were closer to the surface than they’d been since he was a boy. She moved away from him, placed a hand on either side of his face, and closed her mouth over his. He read love and longing in her kiss, along with heat and hope as she nibbled, licked, and suckled his tongue.
His cock swelled, desperate to take her, make her his forever. He broke their kiss. “Are you certain?”
She smiled, her lips flower-petal soft from their kiss. “Aye, I’ve never been more so.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lars had just enough presence of mind to shut off the brazier. He turned to Tamara and began to undress her, starting with her shoes. He rubbed the insteps of her feet and she wriggled her toes against his hands, making little mewing noises. He ran his hands up her ankles and calves, enjoying the feel of her sleekly muscled legs, before unfastening her pants.
“Dear God but your hands feel heavenly.” She smiled dreamily. “It’s almost painful to tear myself away, but this will be easier if we stand.” She got to her feet and her pants pooled around her. She stepped out of them and reached for the waistband of his sweats, running a palm over his hard-on. He leaned into her, wanting her to touch him, and she did, but only for a moment. She slid his sweatpants over his hips with firm hands, followed by his shorts. His cock sprang free. Tamara’s fingers hovered so close he felt the heat of them, but she made a grab for the bottom of his shirt instead and tugged it upward.
He realized he still had his slippers on and worked his way out of them so he could untangle himself from the welter of pants and underwear around his feet. While his face was buried in his shirt, something hot and electric moved across his chest. Her mouth. She kissed his nipples, sending a jolt of white heat to his groin. He escaped from the shirt and tossed it onto a seat. “If you do much more of that, we will never make it to our cat forms.”
She looked up at him, beautiful in muted light that played through the gazebo windows. “I’ve never done that before.”
He was so hot, thinking wasn’t easy. “Done what?” His tongue felt thick and uncooperative.
“Made love in my other form.” She cocked her head to one side. “Have you?”
“Yes, but not with another shifter. I have sometimes spent months as a cat, living as they do.”
She tilted her chin up. “You’ll be helping me? I…”
“Your cat will know what to do. Trust her.”
“I don’t know.” Tamara grinned ruefully. “She’s been mighty quiet these past few minutes. No clamoring to get out. No commentary at all.”
He spanned her waist, reveling in her silky skin, and then moved upward to tease her breasts. Warm and firm, with pebbled nipples, they felt as if they belonged in his hands. She moaned and pressed into his touch. Sandwiched between their bodies, his cock twitched and jumped, reminding him of its need.
He unzipped her jacket. Once it was off her shoulders, he pulled her stretchy top over her head and opened his arms. She wrapped hers around him and turned her face up for a kiss. He wanted everything. Kissing, hugging, fondling, fucking. He sank his tongue into her mouth and she sparred with it. He ran his hands down her naked back, found the taut globes of her ass, and pulled her hard against his erection. Lars groaned at her proximity; she felt so goddamned good. No one had ever felt like that before. Like they’d been born to be a part of him.
His breathing quickened as the mate bond spun its magic. The woman in his arms was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth form hers. “It is time,” he said, voice harsh with passion and unfulfilled need.
She stepped back; the air around her shimmered and the sleek form of her mountain cat emerged. She padded around him, sniffing enthusiastically. On the second transit, she rasped her sandpaper tongue over his burning erection. He laughed. “If that is not a hurry up, I have never been on the receiving end of one. We can move out of doors, liebchen. The garden’s fence is solid. It will shroud us from view.”
He crossed the room in a single stride and pushed the door open. Tamara leaped through, made an acrobatic midair twist, and ended up on all fours facing him, tongue lolling. Lars reached for his cat from. Unlike Tamara’s cat, his had been champing at the bit for freedom. He knew what was about to happen and couldn’t wait.