Tiger Magic

Damn him. Tiger sat there looking at her with those beautiful eyes, telling her he was leaving.

He couldn’t leave. She’d just found him.

Carly flashed back to the day she’d realized her father was never coming back. The pain, like a kick in the stomach, had flattened her for weeks. She’d gone to school in a daze, barely able to talk to anyone, unable to study or focus on homework. She’d started flunking her classes, which had made things worse; then had come the counseling.

Carly had struggled for years before she figured out how to go on living, how to push the anger and grief to the back of her mind so she could pay attention to what was in front of her.

“My dad left us when we were kids,” she said in a hard voice. “He left my mama and four teenage girls with no money and a mountain of debts. He just walked out.”

Tiger said nothing. His golden eyes fixed on her, and his hand around her wrist was warm. But he was still leaving.

“I agreed to marry Ethan because I thought he was safe,” Carly went on. “He wasn’t anything like my dad. Ethan wasn’t a wild drinker or a gambler, he brought home a paycheck, he owned a house, he didn’t have debts, and I knew he’d never walk out and leave me to solve his problems. Ethan prides himself on being Mr. Responsible. I was right about all that, but I was wrong about Ethan respecting me or truly caring about me.”

Carly leaned down to Tiger, her breath coming fast. “Then I met you. And I realized that all my life I’d been looking for safety. A good job, a nice place to live, friends I can trust, the right husband—anything to keep me from that feeling of falling with nothing to catch me.”

“But I’m not safe,” Tiger said. “Nothing about me is safe.”

“I know.” Carly started to laugh, but in a crazy way, not finding anything funny. “And wham, I realized that safety shouldn’t be the most important thing in my life.” She poked his chest. “You make me want to be wild and take chances and grab happiness while I have it. With Ethan I was content, and I admit, a little bit smug. But with you, I’m hot and happy, excited whenever I see you or hear your voice. You walk into a room, and I’m glad. When I woke up with you this morning, I knew it was the best morning of my life. I want more mornings like that, and I want each one to be even better than the last. I lost my dad, I lost the safety of marriage to Ethan, and for about the third time this week, I’ve probably lost my job. On top of it all, I sure as hell don’t want to lose you.”

Tiger watched her with the close stare of a predator. His tiger-striped hair was a mess, his face stubbled with whiskers and still marked with a few bruises from the accident. His black T-shirt under the flannel shirt was marked with sweat, his arms, exposed by pushed-up sleeves, corded with muscle dusted with golden hair.

He was absolutely nothing like the clean-cut, perfectly groomed man Carly was supposed to date, and then marry.

“You’ll never be safe if you stay with me,” Tiger said.

“And I say screw it.” Carly shook off his grasp but only to plop herself onto the slant of his lap. “I’m not going through my boring, safe life wondering whatever happened to you—wondering what would have happened to me if I’d grabbed you and held on to you with both hands. Don’t you get it, Tiger? I want you.”

Tiger kept looking at her. Whatever he was thinking or feeling, Carly had no idea, but she saw the emptiness behind his eyes. Her heart ached from his story of torture and terror, for his life of knowing nothing but anger and fear.

She leaned down to kiss him. Carly intended the kiss to be gentle, to show him how much she cared, but as soon as their lips touched, Tiger slid his strong hand behind her neck, and the kiss turned fierce.

Carly surrendered to his strength, letting his arms take her weight, as he slanted his mouth over hers, exploring, tasting. She ran her fingertips over the line where the false Collar had been, the ridge of skin already smoothing.

Tiger’s hand went to the back of her dress, tugging at the zipper. The little cap sleeves that just covered Carly’s shoulders came down quickly, Tiger’s hands warming her skin, the dress loosening.

Carly tilted her head back while Tiger kissed her neck then traveled down her throat with little nips. He pressed his mouth below the hollow of her throat as the dress eased down to reveal her br**sts.

Carly had put on a lace and satin bra this morning, ivory to match the sheath dress Yvette had given her. She’d wanted to be pretty today, all the way to her skin. Tiger made her feel beautiful. Carly, who considered herself all lips and eyes, with a little too much curve on the bottom and not enough on top.

Tiger fumbled at the catch of her bra, but Carly was happy to reach back and release it for him. Last night, they’d been so crazed to make love to each other that they hadn’t gone slowly, hadn’t savored.

Tiger savored her now. He pushed Carly’s body upward so he could lick between her br**sts, then tilted his head back to kiss her mouth as she gazed down at him.

“You are beautiful,” he said. “My mate.”

When he said mate, a warmth grew in her heart until it almost hurt. At the same time the warmth brought a flush of happiness, the like of which Carly had never felt before.

Tiger smiled, which made his eyes heat. “Do you see it? The mate bond?”

He moved his fingers to her breastbone, directly over the warmth. When Carly looked at him in confusion, not knowing what he was talking about, his smile grew.