Soul of the Wildcat (6 page)

Jesse Clawfoot speared her with a narrow look. “I'd have to agree on every level,” he said wryly. “Except we've got one problem: we're the prisoners, not the other way around.”

Dakoda tossed up her hands in exasperation. “But there has to be a way out of this mess for both of us. As long as we're breathing, we're alive. And as long as we're alive, there's hope.”

Jesse took a step toward the wall and closed his eyes. “I'm afraid hope is wearing pretty thin for my kind.” He rubbed a hand against his forehead. “Our tribe numbers less than seventy. Those who remember the old ways are dying off. Add in the fact that more than a few tribe members have just vanished.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, they're gone.”

Dakoda felt a tug around her heartstrings. “Captured and sold off, no doubt.”

Hand dropping, Jesse nodded. “It's a given we males have to roam far and wide to establish our own territory and find mates. That's why I was off the reservation. Through the last few months I could have sworn I'd scented a female.”

Dakoda felt her pulse quicken. “You mean one of your race?”

Jesse nodded. “Yes. I'd just gotten a fresh track on her when I stepped into a trap.” He lifted a hand, showing the deep rope burn around his wrist. “At least it wasn't one of those claw-tooth traps. I'd have lost my hand for sure.”

“That means you lost her, I suppose.”

Jesse angled his head, sending a spill of black hair down his shoulders. His hair brushed the tips of his flat male nipples. Dakoda couldn't help but wonder how those tips would taste under her circling tongue.

Suddenly unable to look at her, he glanced away. “No, I'm pretty sure she's still nearby.” The tension was thickened between them. He seemed to want to say more, but was holding himself back.

A funny sensation began at the nape of Dakoda's neck. Every time she took a breath, the musk emanating from Jesse Clawfoot's skin teased her. That in turn caused familiar warmth to pool between her thighs, making the crotch of her cotton panties uncomfortably sticky.

More images flashed across her mind's screen as she imagined the raw, sensual pleasure she'd feel when he sank his cock into her eager sex. From the moment she'd laid eyes on him in his human form, the notion of having sex with him had popped into her head more than once.

Thinking about it is one thing,
she warned herself.
Doing it is another
.

As though able to discern her every carnal notion, Jesse slowly lifted his head. “And she's definitely in heat,” he added softly.

Heat
. To become excited emotionally or physically.

That definitely described her state of mind.

Unaccountably thirsty, Dakoda picked up one of the bottles of water off the table. Cracking it open, she took a deep swallow of the tepid liquid. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. “I hope you're not going to say what I think you are,” she half croaked.

Jesse's black gaze homed in on hers. “You're one of the Tlvdatsi, Dakoda,” he breathed out in sudden confession. “You're the female I've been tracking.”

S
hock pulsed through Dakoda, a dismay so sharp she had to fight the nausea rising from her gut. She gulped. “Surely, you're joking.” She shook her head adamantly, feeling nothing but the cold refusal to believe. Suddenly a new twist had been tossed into the equation, adding an entirely new level to their captivity.

She shook her head, unwilling to accept. “That doesn't even make any sense,” she countered. “How can you even say I'm one of your kind?”

“Unfortunately, I do know.”

Dakoda folded her arms protectively across her chest, as if the move could somehow shield her from the truth. “How?” she demanded.

Jesse gave a quick, rueful smile, tapping his nose with a single finger. “There's a scent, a pheromone, which a female gives off. Most people don't notice it, as it takes a keen sense of smell to recognize.”

“I have an odor?” Dakoda pulled a face. “Oh, yuck. How disgusting.” She lifted one arm, giving her pit a quick sniff. Oh,

yeah, she stank. No doubt about it. A groan filtered past her lips.

Something akin to amusement crossed his face, lighting up his chiseled features. “It's a good odor,” Jesse said, hastening to reassure her. “And it's practically the only way we have of recognizing a true Tlvdatsi female.”

Dakoda threw up her hands in disbelief. Frustration boiled through her. “But that's just what I've been telling you. I don't know what my heritage is. I don't even know my father's name, much less where he came from.”

Jesse sighed. “I don't have to guess, Dakoda. One of your parents has some Cherokee blood and is a descendant of the Tlvdatsi clan. Though I'm not really sure how to explain it, people with our bloodline seem to carry some sort of recessive gene that's been passed down through generations. Most of us live our entire lives not knowing we carry it. It's why those who know how to shift are almost extinct.”

“But I'm not a shifter,” she protested. “I've never had the urge to turn into a cougar and prowl.”

A soft laugh escaped him. “None of us did, Dakoda. When I found out, I thought there was no freaking way on earth that was possible. I may be an Indian, but I wasn't born on the damn reservation or raised in the—” He raised his hands, fingers making quote marks in the air. “—old ways of our people.”

Dakoda swallowed, remembering the icy prickle she'd felt when she'd first witnessed Jesse shift from cougar to human. “How did you find out?”

Jesse hesitated a beat, then said, “One of the elders of the Tlvdatsi clan tracked me down. Here I am be-bopping along, doing my thing in college, and some ancient shaman shows up telling me it's time to return to our homeland and reestablish our connection with our ancestors.” He was suddenly restless, pacing the small cell. His muscular legs seemed way too damn long for the small space. With each step he took, the blanket around his narrow hips shifted lower. “And then he springs the whole cougar thing on me…I'm thinking for sure the old man's been hitting the pipe a little hard, if you know what I mean.”

Watching the blanket creep ever lower, Dakoda felt a tremor of yearning down low in her core. A little bit more of their grim reality faded, and she was grateful for the distraction.

Clearing her throat, she cocked a brow toward his waist. “Ah, Jesse, if you don't get a grab on that, you'll be losing your cover.”

A grin split his lips as he shot her a suggestive smile. “Anything I got that you would like to see?” he hinted.

Her pulse raced all over again at the pull of his sheer male power, drawing her like a physical force. “I've seen it already,” she deadpanned.

“And?”

Dakoda licked dry lips. She'd like to see it again, in an up-close-and-personal way. His presence was making her body ache. He smelled of heat and musk and yet a third unique odor she couldn't quite place, one that insisted on teasing her with its mystery.
Pheromones
. The scent of a male.

She trembled, muscles clenching deep inside at the thought of skin pressed against naked skin.
Not now
, she warned herself.

“And what else did he tell you?” she countered, reluctant to drag her mind away from lustier pursuits.

Jesse huffed, tucking the blanket tighter. “He didn't tell me anything. He showed me.
The shift
.” Eyebrows drawing together in a perplexed furrow, he shook his head. “That was when I considered the weed I'd been smoking must be dusted with some serious hallucinogens.”

She frowned. “You're joking, I hope.”

He raked his hands through his long hair, skimming the thick strands away from his face. “About the pot. Yeah. About the old man shifting. No. All I can say is that I became a believer that day.”

Dakoda tried to envision herself shifting. She couldn't. It seemed too damn incredible to even imagine. Seeing Jesse manage the feat still hadn't made a believer out of her. There was still the possibility she'd lost her mind, and just hadn't figured it out yet. “I guess anyone would,” she allowed.

Jesse gave a slow, wry smile. “He also told me it was time for the gathering, for the Tlvdatsi to return to the mountains and learn the old ways before they died out. Of the seven clans of Cherokees, ours is the last that remembers how to shift.”

“So you moved to the mountains?” she asked.

He nodded. “Since I was flunking accounting, I went ahead and dropped out.” A scoffing sound escaped him. “Ah, what Indian wants to wear the white man's costumes and count his money all day, anyway?”

Dakoda nibbled her lower lip in thought. “Must have been hard, leaving one life behind for another.”

He looked at her a long moment, then shrugged. “Not so hard, really. For the last couple of years we've been working to reestablish the clan and become recognized by the federal government as a legitimate sanctuary for the cougars.”

Dakoda smiled. “A whole new line of work.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “A tough one, too. Proving the cougar is no longer extinct in these mountains hasn't been the most difficult obstacle. Keeping the secret that we are the cougars has proven a little more difficult.”

She folded her arms across her body. “I guess that's hard to do when outsiders know your secrets.”

Jesse snorted. “Tell me about it. Trying to adapt to living in the wild is tough enough without having poachers on your tail, and I do mean that literally.” His expression turned tight and grim. “You have to remember, their people have been in these mountains a long time, too, and they're part of the reason we were hunted to the point of extinction. Leaving our homeland was the only way to survive.”

Feeling the chill behind his words, Dakoda rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Now coming back is the only way to survive.”

Jesse cast a look around the small cell before scrubbing both hands over his face. Sweat beaded his dark skin, giving it a shiny, sexy gleam. “I'm afraid we won't be surviving long under these conditions.”

Dakoda knew she didn't look half as sexy. The moment humidity struck, her hair turned all frizzy and her skin all greasy.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Though the night outside was cool, the air inside the cramped cell was sultry. Her heavy uniform clung to her skin, perspiration patches pooling under her arms and breasts. “I'm sorry we weren't more help, Jesse. Once the reports of cougar sightings were confirmed, we redoubled our efforts to catch poachers.”

His hands dropped, dangling uselessly at his sides. “I know.” He exhaled, a long breath. “It's frustrating, though. We're all trying to adapt to a new world and there's all these obstacles to jump. Sometimes I wish I'd never learned about our gift. I think I could have lived the rest of my life without knowing the truth.”

Dakoda sensed the gnawing of desperate frustration behind his demeanor. The more she learned about the Tlvdatsi, the more she wanted to know. Even if his speculation had no grain of truth, he'd still given her something she'd never had before. Hope.

Always a bastard child with no roots and no heritage, Dakoda had never really felt she belonged anywhere. She had no family who wanted to claim her, call her their own. All of a sudden, Jesse Clawfoot had revealed she might have a family, a legitimate heritage. The father she'd never known might have bestowed a most valuable gift on her—a gift she didn't intend to let slip through her fingers.

“I think everyone should know who they are, where they come from, Jesse.” She lifted a hand, pressing it against her chest. “When you don't know those things it feels like little pieces of you are missing inside, like they've been sliced away. You know who you are, where you come from, and now you know where you're going in life.” Her vision was blurring; her throat tightened, thickening her words. “Anyone who doesn't know would envy that. I know I do.”

Jesse stepped toward her, his face intent. “I can see the pain in your eyes. Not knowing your origins has hurt you deeply, Dakoda.” Warm hands cupped her face. “I want to help you find your way, help you find where you belong.”

Feeling his touch against her needy skin, Dakoda felt oddly comforted. Though his hands were roughened from the hard work of trying to survive in the mountains, his caress was gentle.

She opened her eyes. Her gaze searched his. “You're not just saying that, are you? Please, don't feel sorry for me because I'm a bastard.”

Jesse shook his head, his lips just inches away from hers. “I have no reason to lie to you or to deceive you. I only know what my senses are telling me. You do carry the scent of a Tlvdatsi female.”

Without really knowing why, Dakoda stepped into his arms, pressing against the hard planes of his chest. “I wish I could believe that. Desperation can do such strange things to a person's mind. If you told me you could fly, I think I'd believe it.” She meant the move to be innocent, one human taking comfort from another, but something about the stiffening in his frame said he read something entirely different into it.

His fingers slid into her hair, tugging her head back. His face moved closer to hers. His gaze collided with hers, simmering with predatory heat. “I
am
desperate, Dakoda,” he murmured. “Whether or not you believe me doesn't matter at all. I'm trying to make a connection we can hold on to, something positive for both of us to focus on. If we hang on to each other, we might be able to survive.”

There was no way she could answer. The events of the day were still raw wounds etched deeply into her mind and on her heart. His offering was more than a balm, it was a promise things had the potential to get better. His presence, his pledge, offered a sense of peace.

Hope she willingly took and held on to.

Before she could form a coherent answer, Jesse's mouth covered hers. His kiss wasn't the ravenous assault of a desperate soul, but a soft tentative pressure. His tongue brushed the seam of her lips, seeking invitation.

Blood racing at the pull of his sex toward hers, Dakoda willingly opened. Something about Jesse drew her like a magnetic force, as if she could draw from his strength and shift into a cougar right then and there. A honeyed warmth pushed against her fear and fatigue, renewing her reserves of determination and strength.

“Promise me you won't leave me,” she murmured against the pressure of his mouth.

For an answer, Jesse's hands slipped lower, traveling down her sides. Big warm palms came to rest on her hips. He pulled her body closer to his. With the shift between them, the blanket around his hips dropped to the floor around his feet. The strong length of his torso pressed against her. His throbbing shaft nestled between them. “I won't leave you, Dakoda,” he promised.

Feeling the pressure, Dakoda pulled back a little. She glanced down, eyeing his erection with appreciation. “That thing doesn't give up,” she giggled.

A shudder ran though him. “Not when there's a sexy woman in my arms.”

“Sexy,” she breathed. “You think I'm sexy?”

His grin widened. “Hell, yeah.”

“And you're not just saying that because I'm the only woman around?” she teased.

Jesse pulled her back into his arms. “I think I'd better let my body do the talking.” He kissed her again, his mouth easily conquering hers.

Allowing him full access to plunder and pillage, Dakoda felt the fine tremble beneath his skin, the quivering sensation filling his entire body as he tried to hold back the full force of his intense passion. A man's mouth might lie, spinning some good tales to get into a girl's pants. But his body definitely could not. A bond, a real connection, was forming between them. One going far past the physical, into territory Dakoda had never dared to explore with any man before. For the first time in her life she wanted to find out what it would be like to give herself to a man in every way.

She wanted to belong.

Catching her lower lip between his teeth, Jesse slid one hand up her torso, palm closing over her left breast. Though covered by her clothing, she felt the caress sear all the way through the material. Her nipple instantly came to life, tightening into a hard little peak. God, she was desperate. It had been too damned long since she'd had sex. As though dulled by all lack of sensation, her senses were slowly awakening, blossoming to brilliant life. Her pulse banged in her throat, echoing the need pulsing in her core.