She shuddered. He was right.
It would be unbearable to be left to suffer the overwhelming lust that was spiking ever higher.
“God.”
“Shh.” He brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. “Right now I just want to talk.”
She refused to be comforted. “Before or after you drug me?”
“Dammit.” The austere beauty of his face tightened with annoyance. Then, with an obvious effort, he struggled to keep his temper. “Have you heard of the Pantera?”
She blinked.
Of all the questions she’d been expecting, that had to be at the bottom of the list.
“The beast-men who roam the swamps?” she asked in confusion.
His lips twisted. “I suppose that’s one way of describing them. What do you know?”
She shrugged. Like every child who grew up near the swamps she’d heard the stories of the strange beasts who were part man, part animal, who roamed the darkness.
Her own grandmother had sworn the mysterious race had openly interacted with the townsfolk when she’d been young, but the old woman had often been confused. Hell, she’d all but implied that Ashe’s father had been some sort of magical shaman instead of a lazy jackass who’d bolted the minute he discovered her mother was pregnant.
“I know they’re about as real as Rougarou and Bigfoot,” she said.
“They’re real.” There was a deliberate pause. “I’m real.”
Her mouth went dry, a sharp-edged fear slicing through her heart.
“You’re saying you’re a beast-man?”
The beautiful face was set in a grim expression. “I’m Pantera.”
She tried to laugh, only to have it come out as a shaky moan. “Yeah, right.”
“Look at me, Ashe.” The eyes glowed brighter, as if there were a fire burning deep inside them with flecks of jade. They were…magnificent. Stunning. But they sure as hell weren’t human. “You know I speak the truth. You’ve sensed I was different from the moment we met.”
Of course she’d sensed he was different.
No mere man could move with such graceful speed, or hold a woman captive with one hand.
And then there was that enticing musk that clouded her mind and made it impossible to think.
“I didn’t know you were a freaking animal,” she rasped.
He flinched, his nose flaring with irritation. “Careful, ma chère, the child you carry is Pantera.”
Abruptly she squeezed her eyes shut. It was too much.
Too. Damned. Much.
“God, please let this be a nightmare.”
“Do you intend to act like you’re five and hope you can close your eyes and wish away the monster?” he chastised. “Or are you going to look at me and discuss this like an adult?”
Her eyes snapped open.
Did he think a child of a raging drunk had ever been allowed to pretend she could wish away monsters?
“I was an adult at five,” she said, coldly.
Something that might have been regret softened his aquiline features.
“Then you understand that we have to face the consequences of our actions.”
“Easy for you to say. I don’t even remember our…actions.” She narrowed her gaze. “You did something to me to make me forget, didn’t you? Is it a power you have?”
He shrugged. “One of many.”
So she hadn’t blacked out that night.
She didn’t know if his confession made her feel better or not.
Actually, she didn’t know what she felt.
She licked her lips, shivering as his glowing gaze lowered to study her mouth with an unsettling intensity.
“Are you—”
“What?”
“Part beast?”
CHAPTER 3
RAPHAEL lifted a brow.
Christ. Did she actually think he had furry parts when he was in this form?
Then he bleakly reminded himself that while every kiss, every soft moan as he plunged deep inside her, was branded on his mind, she had only flashes of memory.
The thought stirred a startling compulsion to repeat the performance.
To fuck her so long and so thoroughly she would never, ever be able to forget his touch.
To mark her so no other man would ever dare lay a finger on her.
Mine.
He swallowed a low snarl. Dammit. He’d been chosen as a diplomat because he was one of the Pantera capable of controlling his emotions.
How did this female manage to destroy that restraint?
“Yes, I’m part beast,” he said dryly. “And before you try to peek, I don’t have animal parts when I’m in human form.”
With a remarkable courage, considering all she’d been through over the past few hours, she met his gaze, determined to learn the truth.
“I assume that means you have more than one form?”
“When I’m on my native soil I can shift.”
“Shift?” She blinked. “Like a werewolf?”
He made a sound of disgust. “No, I’m a puma, not a mangy dog.”
She slowly absorbed his words, her face pale. “How?”
Raphael hesitated, battling against his instinctive urge to ignore her question.
Over the past fifty years the already elusive Pantera had become increasingly isolated, sensing they were in danger but unable to pinpoint the precise threat.
Only those individuals necessary for survival of their race actually left the Wildlands and they remained incognito except to a rare few, trusted humans. Well, and the politicians who had the power to screw with their homeland.
But even as he struggled against his training, he knew deep in his gut that this woman was innocent.
He would have been able to sense if she were lying to him.
She truly had no idea what Pantera were or that the child she carried was supposed to be an impossible dream.
“You’ll have to discuss the subject with our philosophers if you want an exhaustive explanation,” he at last answered. “But the short story is that the Wildlands possess a magic that created my distant ancestors.”
She frowned. “Turning them into pumas?”
“Giving them the ability to shift into animal form. It’s still hotly debated whether they could have chosen any animal and settled on pumas since they were the most lethal predator capable of surviving in the bayous, or if it was the only form the magic allowed.”
Her face paled another shade, emphasizing her fragile beauty. “What else can you do?”
Feeling a jab of regret, Raphael loosened his grip on her wrists, skimming his hands down her bare arms.
This had to be difficult for her.
Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to make it any easier.
“Like humans, we each have our own talents.”
She shivered with growing excitement, but her expression remained hard with suspicion.
“That’s…evasive.”
His concentration was shattered by the feel of her satin skin beneath his fingertips, the cat inside him stirring with restless hunger.
It didn’t understand this need to talk.
It wanted to pounce. Devour. To mate with this female who was warm and wet beneath him.
“We’re a secretive race.”
“No shit,” she breathed. “Why?”
“We have our reasons.”
Her eyes darkened as his hands traced her shoulders before heading down the line of her collarbone, her own concentration obviously beginning to fracture.
“Just tell me, is one of your talents seducing humans?” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“We produce a pheromone that can be an aphrodisiac,” he said, not surprised when her eyes widened and she wildly grasped for the excuse to explain her violent arousal whenever he touched her.