Jaguar's Kiss (Lone Pine Pride) (7 page)

“It’s nice. You haven’t done much to personalize it.”

“I haven’t moved in yet.”

“Of course.” She looked at him then, but couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

“What is it you want to ask me, Lila?” He loved the little shiver she gave when he said her name. “You know I would tell you anything.”

“What do you do? For a living, I mean. I don’t see you often around here.”

“Architect. I designed this building actually, though mostly I do luxury vacation homes. Do you want to see?”

“I’d love to,” she said instantly, then caught herself. “Are they off the pride lands?”

“Not far off. I’d have you back before dark.” He moved closer and this time she didn’t retreat.

“I wouldn’t be setting a very good example, leaving the pride lands right when my father has asked everyone to close ranks.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” He smiled his most persuasive smile. “Unless you aren’t interested in seeing an entire house perched in a tree.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously? A tree house? I didn’t imagine you capable of anything so fanciful.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re getting to know each other better.” He didn’t tell her she had inspired it. Her laughter. The way she lured him into wanting to play.

“All right,” she said with a laugh. “Take me quick before I change my mind.”

Ten minutes later they were in his Land Rover headed toward the western boundary gate and Santiago found himself with a fierce satisfaction at having her beside him in his space. In
his
car, driving out to
his
house, with the woman who would be his if the fates didn’t hate him.

She rolled down the window and put her arm out, one hand surfing the wind as he drove. “I almost never leave the pride lands,” she commented idly, her head tipped back against the headrest, relaxed.

Some sort of bubble had popped between them and the usual humming tension he felt around her had eased into something light and easy. Right now it was enough just to be with her and she seemed to feel the same way.

“Never?”

“Well, I obviously leave now and then. I’m not trapped or anything. I used to go out all the time when I commuted to a human university.”

“What did you study?” He waved to the guards as they passed through the first boundary checkpoint. If they stared when they saw who his passenger was, Santiago decided to ignore it.

“Business administration with a sociology minor. Near as I could get to majoring in
how to be an Alpha’s mate.
”

“And if you could have taken anything? What would you have studied then?”

She shrugged, her eyes on the hand riding the wind currents. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. In a way it’s easy, having a plan laid out for you. I never had to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. It was a yes or no question, rather than a million options all tripping over one another. Less confusion that way, I guess.”

“And what does the future Alpha’s mate do all day?” Everyone contributed in the pride, even the outliers, some financially from outside work, but most within the pride itself through whatever their talents were.

“I don’t really have an official job.” Lila reeled her hand in from the open window as they approached the outer boundary.

It was a nondescript twelve-foot fence with standard
No Trespassing
signs and an automated gate. Lila leaned across the middle console to type the pass code into the remote on his dash. The gates slid back silently and closed again as soon as he drove through.

“I’m not allowed to do anything that would interfere with my duties once Roman and I take over, so I can’t take any sort of permanent position because I’ll eventually have to give it up. In theory that will be years from now, when my parents are ready to step down, but in case of catastrophe it’s better if I keep myself available. So for now I pretty much just dabble. Helping out with this and that. I do a lot of work in the nursery and preschool programs. They can always use an extra pair of hands.”

To Santiago that sounded a lot like her family trying to prevent her from discovering other interests that might prevent her from following the path they’d laid out for her, but he’d learned his lesson about challenging her ordained life the night before. So instead of complaining about the high-handedness, he simply asked, “Do you like working with kids then?”

“Most days I do. Then there are the days when it seems like it’s all vomit and tantrums and breaking up fights. Still, it’s amazing seeing how quickly they learn—and how different they all are right from the start. All that potential and we get to watch and see where it goes.”

He bit his lip rather than commenting on the fact that she envied the children the possibilities she’d never had.

“You didn’t have a pride structure where you grew up, did you?” Lila asked. “What was it like in California?”

“Quieter. Though most people who grew up in LA probably wouldn’t characterize it as a quiet city. It was just my mother and me—not unusual for jaguars.”

“What was she like, your mom?”

Santiago turned onto the narrow dirt road that led through his forest to his house. It was barely wide enough for the Land Rover and a branch reached through the window and caught Lila’s hair, making her laugh and roll up the window.

“This is all my land now, so I can’t blame the state for not maintaining my road.”

She smiled but wasn’t deflected. “Your mom?”

“She taught me a lot. Made me strong and independent and resourceful. I don’t think you could ever call her maternal, but I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her.”

“And now?” She leaned against the window, facing him. “Are you still close?”

“I get a phone call from her about twice a year.” At Lila’s horrified look, he gave a low laugh. “It’s different for us. We aren’t lions. We don’t have your obsession with community.”

“How did you cope, being a shifter in a city, all on your own?”

“I didn’t shift much. Though the occasional run across the rooftops was part of my teenage rebellion. We’d drive out into the country—weekend camping trips, we called them, but if anyone looked in the cars they would see we didn’t even bring tents. All fur all weekend. And then it was back to concrete and keeping it contained. Our little secret. It was isolating, I suppose, but it was all I knew. My version of normal.”

“And now? Do you like living in a pride?”

“More than I thought I would.” He grinned, remembering how crazy he’d thought Mateo was when he moved up here to join. Now… “It’s grown on me. Though sometimes all the togetherness makes me nuts.”

Lila grimaced. “Patch says the same thing.”

“I probably got it from her. I’ve heard her say it often enough.”

“I forgot. You and Patch are close, aren’t you?” The slightest edge of ice coated her words.

He slowed the car before the curve that would bring the house into view, looking across the cab at the sulky lioness in the passenger seat. “Lila Fallon, are you jealous of my friendship with Patch?”

“Of course not.” She sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You are.” A grin split his face. “I had no idea you’d have a possessive streak.”

“I’m not possess—” She broke off, gasping as they rounded the bend and she looked up. “Oh my God.”

His smile widened, pride exploding in his chest. “You approve?”

“This place. Santiago, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You’re not likely to. I designed and built the whole thing from scratch.”

“You said tree house.” She bent to peer up through the windshield as he parked the Land Rover and cut the engine. “I was picturing, I don’t know, a rickety old cabin in a tree. This is…”

She trailed off and he grinned at her speechlessness, hopping out of the car and rounding the hood to open her door while she continued to gawk. The cat inside him strutted and purred as she stroked his pride. This place was his masterpiece. Having her here, in this place he’d built with his own hands, pulling it out of his imagination… There were no words.

Built around four tall, sturdy giant cedars, the house started at the ground and twisted up into the sky in sections, each level like another step in a giant spiral staircase, climbing up toward the heavens.

He helped her out of the car and her eyes immediately went to the scratches around the front door—a predator marking his territory. Lila frowned and stepped away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Cinnamon and smoke,” she murmured and her eyes widened as she turned back to him. “This is your place, isn’t it? Not just one you designed. You live here.”

“Come see the inside.”

She slipped her hand into his and let him tug her toward the door, smiling bemusedly. “Santiago Flores, I think you must be a closet romantic to live here.”

He shrugged. “I was inspired.”

By her. Though he knew he couldn’t tell her that without sending her running back to the pride. He’d never have bothered with something this magnificent for himself if he hadn’t been constantly picturing this moment, imagining bringing her here.

He led her up to the first level of the spiral, up only a couple of short wide steps from the ground—steps that would be easy for a jaguar or a lion to leap. Every inch of the house had been designed with both man and cat in mind.

The interior didn’t try to be overly rustic. The floors were hardwood and he’d left the ceiling beams exposed, but it could have been a living room anywhere—until you looked out the windows. Santiago watched her face, trying to read her reaction. Did she like it? He’d scattered rugs around in an attempt to warm the place up and kept the furniture sparse to give his cat room to roam. A stone fireplace formed the center spike of the spiral, as far away from the four foundation trees as possible to ward against fires.

Could Lila see herself in front of that fire? Was she envisioning the little touches she would put on the place to make it her own?

He guided her through the house, each level a new room—the entry/living room opening up a few short steps into the kitchen and dining area. Above that was the office and library, where he spent most of his time. His desk faced a small balcony with glass sliding doors giving a view of the forest. The house wasn’t truly suspended in the trees, but from here, it felt like it.

Every other wall in the room contained floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, though barely half of them were full.

Lila ran a finger along one empty shelf. “You need more books.”

“I figured my mate would have some.” He’d often seen Lila curled up with a book around the pride. “Easier to put the shelves in initially than add them later.”

At his mention of a mate, her head turned sharply toward him and her eyes narrowed. “I bet the girls you bring here just eat that line up.”

He’d never brought a woman here. Except Patch, and she was a friend, not a potential mate. In his head, this was Lila’s house and it would have been a betrayal to bring some other woman here. But he couldn’t tell her that. He appreciated the jealousy flashing in her eyes, but the wariness was still there. She was keeping him at arm’s length, not yet ready to hear that all this was for her.

“Jealous?” he asked softly.

She lifted her chin regally and ignored the taunt. “What’s up there?”

He grinned with undisguised anticipation. “Come on.” He took her hand again and led her up the steps to the master suite.

He watched her, wanting to catch her reaction when she saw the wall of windows that gave the illusion they were truly perched in the trees, but Lila’s gaze snagged on the giant four-poster bed and refused to budge. Her scent grew stronger and, with the bed so close, he had to remind himself that this was about forever, not just short-term gratification.

She cleared her throat, her face flaming, not meeting his eyes. “Is there another level?”

So scared to want him, his cowardly little lioness. If he pushed her now, he would push her away, so Santiago drew her up past the next level—a sitting room that could easily be turned into a nursery should the need arise—and out the door to the last two stories, a spiraling deck open to the sky.

She immediately slipped her hand free of his and crossed to the railing, gasping as she looked out over the magnificent view. He didn’t mind the loss of her touch, even the most possessive aspect of his cat satisfied by just having her here, in his space, admiring his work.

He leaned a hip against the railing at her side and breathed in her scent mixing with his, fighting the urge to purr.

“When you said you designed vacation homes, I had no idea you meant a place like this.”

“I started out more traditionally,” he admitted. “I liked to make them fit their settings, but I’d never done anything on this scale until a couple years ago. One of my favorite clients asked me if I’d be willing to design a playhouse for her daughter. Something magical. I agreed, just for the hell of it, and wound up enjoying the project so much I designed several options for her. I think that seven-year-old was my most demanding client ever. She ended up picking the princess castle, complete with a tower for her to be imprisoned by imaginary witches.”