"Thank you." He could barely get the words out. He glanced at Jake, who was holding Emma close to him. "Thank you both." Dr. Mason had done the surgery on Drake, and Eli remembered him from that operation. He was grateful Jake had called both shifter doctors in to try to save Catarina.
Jake gave him a small salute, one that said "what are friends for." Emma was crying with relief, and that's what really mattered to him. Jake turned her into the shelter of his body and held her gently. He might be angry that she came, but there was only gentleness in his touch.
"I need to see her." Eli made it a demand.
"She's in recovery right now. In a couple of hours . . ."
"I need to see her," Eli said again. This time his voice was a low growl. His leopard needed to see her as well.
Mulligan was a leopard. He knew the signs of a male at his limit. He nodded his head. "I'll show you the way."
"Elijah will stay," Jake said. "He'll have anything you need, Eli. Let Liam take care of your wounds while you're with Catarina in recovery. You're scaring the hospital personnel looking like that."
He couldn't answer. He couldn't breathe without her. He needed to see her. That was all that mattered. Until he did, his leopard prowled too close. Until he did, air wouldn't move through his lungs. He nodded a little curtly to Jake to indicate he understood and stalked through the double doors and down the wide hallway.
Dr. Mulligan hurried after him. "She's strong, Mr. Perez."
"Eli. Any man who saves Catarina's life can use my first name."
Mulligan smiled for the first time. "I'm not altogether certain I was the one who saved her life. She was a pretty determined woman."
He opened a door, and Eli actually caught hold of the doorjamb to keep his legs from going out from under him. Only Catarina could make him this weak. She lay on a hospital bed, so pale she was nearly as white as the bleached sheets she was on. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes two thick feathery crescents standing out starkly against her white skin.
She had bruises everywhere. Her face was swollen and shadowed with blue and black. She was swathed in bandages. But she breathed. In and out. He sagged there, gripping the doorjamb to keep from sliding to the floor. She breathed. She was restless, fighting the sleep, or maybe reliving the attack, her body moving constantly as if trying to flee. Shadows flitted across her face. The nurse fussed over her, clicking soothingly, but that didn't stop the agitated movements.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Mulligan said briskly. "The nurses in here like things sanitary. If you're going to stay, you can't be bleeding all over the floor."
He nodded. He was going to stay whether they liked it or not, but he could cooperate now, his Catarina was breathing.
Ignoring the doctor and the nurse sitting so close to his woman, Eli crossed the distance to her. He laid his hand very gently over her small one, the one fisting over and over in the sheet. They were still giving her blood and intravenous antibiotics. Shifters carried venom and bacteria in their claws. He'd need a round of antibiotics as well.
He leaned down, uncaring in that moment that the doctor and nurse could see the stark, raw love he had for Catarina so naked on his face. "Kitten, I'm here now. Just relax and let me take care of things. I've got you now."
Her lashes actually fluttered. He held his breath. Cobalt blue stared at him for a moment and then all the wild color was gone. But her body relaxed. Went still. Beneath his hand hers relaxed and stopped gripping the sheet.
"That's right, baby," he said softly. "Just rest for me."
The nurse smiled at him for the first time. Mulligan stepped up to him with the look of a leopard, threatening to throw him out if he didn't cooperate. Eli cooperated.
22
CATARINA woke to the feeling of hands moving over her body. Almost from the moment she'd come home from the hospital, Eli had awakened her with his need to feel every inch of her body. He was always gentle, but as time went by, his touch brought her far more than reassurance of his love. She needed him inside her. Dominating her body. Giving her the scorching fire that always brought her pleasure beyond belief.
He had been so careful with her, forcing her to stay in bed the first few days after her hospital stay and then carrying her to the porch or the sitting room, placing piles of books beside her. He waited on her hand and foot. Each night he held her tight, so tight she could barely breathe. Always, at some point, in the middle of the night, she awakened to his hands moving over her body to feel her heart beat. To assure himself she was alive.
She relaxed into his touch as the pads of his fingers moved over her face, tracing her bone structure. His lips feathered over each eye and trailed along her cheekbone down to the corner of her mouth. That was new. She looked at him, seeing him there in the darkness. His masculine face, lines carved deep. So beautifully male. His eyes had already gone from a dark whiskey to pure gold.
Instantly her body stirred. Came alive. Every nerve ending awoke. She felt an electric burn sizzle through her veins. His lips moved over hers with the same tender touch, back and forth, rubbing along her lips as if he had all the time in the world.
She shivered beneath his touch. She couldn't help it. No matter how gentle he was, there was an unmistakable possessive feel to his hands. He knew her body, and he knew it intimately. Even the lightest of touches could bring fire to her body, let alone the sweet assault on her senses he'd been conducting nightly.
His mouth moved against hers again, this time coaxing. A little firmer. More demand. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, while his fingers smoothed up and over her breasts, one palm directly over her heart so he could feel it beating into his hand.
She opened her mouth to his and the world shifted around her. His kisses had always been able to bring her to her knees, but now, after waiting what seemed to be forever, his tongue ignited a firestorm inside of her. She felt the burn pour down her throat, straight to her swollen, aching breasts, radiate outward to spin through her body down to her groin. Instantly her womb clenched. Her sheath spasmed. She went wet and a little desperate, the fire no sweet ache, but a roaring monster of hunger and need.
Eli kissed her over and over, each kiss more aggressive, more passionate and more primitive than the last one. All the while his hand stayed over her heart. His other hand wasn't so still. His fingers stroked the curve of her breast. The pads of his fingers circled her nipple, round and round until she wanted to scream in frustration. She tried to move just enough that his wandering hand would swipe over her taut, needy nipple, but he kept her trapped with one heavy leg draped over her thighs and his chest partially pinning her to the mattress.
His kisses sent more flames licking along her nerve endings until she was kissing him back fiercely, just as demandingly. Nearly as primal as he was. Then his kisses changed and more liquid spilled from her body. He went dominant, demanding, taking rather than asking. She loved that trait in him the most. The way his mouth was starved for her, the way he devoured her, eating at her as if she was his last meal.
His mouth was wicked. Sinful. Beautiful. A miracle. His fingers found her nipple and tugged. Instantly the shocking current of electricity rushed to her clit. Her hips bucked hard against him.
Eli lifted his head and looked down at her, his eyes golden, glowing in the darkness at her. Predatory. Possessive. Nearly all cat. She should have been afraid, but she wasn't. Only hungry for him. Desperate for his touch. She wanted rough and fast, but already he dipped his head and kissed his way down her chin to her throat.
His mouth covered her pulse there. His tongue stroked over the beat. He kissed it again, his lips rubbing back and forth to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She couldn't help the small sound that escaped her throat.
"Easy, baby," he murmured against her pulse. "I want a long journey. I want to feel every fucking pulse in your body, with my hand. I want to feel your heart beating in my palm and in my mouth. You just lay there and take it, because you scared the holy hell out of me and I need this."
There was no hurrying Eli when he didn't want to be hurried. His tone was back to the Eli she knew and loved. Rough. Dominant. Absolutely arrogant and confident. She was going up in flames, and he simply took his time. She knew what he was doing--reclaiming her body for his own. She felt possession in every stroke of his fingers, every touch of his hand.