The helicopter landed on the pad on the roof of the hospital. The gurney was waiting, just as Jake had instructed. Eli was reluctant to place her body on it, knowing they would take her from him, but he had no choice. He ran with the gurney, his hand hard around hers, his eyes on hers, demanding. Forcing her compliance.
She kept her eyes open, but there was so much pain he felt sick. She was so cold he felt her slipping away. Her pulse beneath his seeking fingers was thready and weak. Don't leave me, baby. Stay for me. I need you. Need you so much.
She was gone. They took her through double doors, forcing him to stay back. He felt her slip away from him. Felt the breath leave her body. Felt the moment her heart stopped beating and the pulse went quiet in her body. He felt her leave him. He knew he wasn't making it up when he heard the voices shouting instructions, all a calm, but frantic fight for her life. He almost lost it, shoving at the two men who stepped in front of him, but Jake was there, one restraining hand on his arm.
"Let them do their job, Eli," Jake advised. "Both surgeons and their team are well aware of what she is."
"She's pregnant. I know she is. I didn't tell them." Eli shoved both hands through his hair in agitation. "Maybe a month."
Jake immediately approached one of the two men who had stopped Eli from entering the surgery rooms. The man turned and rushed through the double doors.
"They'll take care of it," Jake assured again.
He'd been there with Emma. The same waiting room. He remembered standing in front of the window, his world bleak and gray. Waiting to know. Waiting to hear if she was alive. He'd prayed for the first time in his life. He knew what Eli was feeling, a gut-wrenching sorrow. An agonizing fear. Terror that the one person who made up his world could be taken from him.
Eli was grateful Jake was there, but he couldn't talk. He needed quiet. He needed to find the invisible thread that he'd made psychically with Catarina. No one had come to tell him she was dead, so they had to have got her breathing again. He would know if she tried to fade away again, and he would do everything in his power to stop her. She had to love him that much. Enough to endure whatever was necessary in order to stay with him.
He wouldn't survive her loss. Not intact. It was impossible. She'd made her way into his heart. Snuck in when he wasn't looking. It was impossible to be with her and not fall deeply, madly in love with her. But that hadn't been enough. She'd taken his soul.
His throat felt shredded. Raw. Aching. He didn't even know why. His eyes burned and his body ached, especially his chest. He glanced at his reflection. A man stood there. A stranger. His thick chest was streaked with blood. He wore no shoes, only a pair of soft blue jeans that set low on his hips. His hair was wild. His face was swollen from multiple cuts and bruises and his chest had rake marks down the heavy muscles. His eyes . . . his eyes had gone a dark gold, all sorrow. All fear.
He'd all but forgotten Cordeau and his lieutenants had tortured him before he'd gotten free. It didn't matter now. The nurses and the one doctor who approached him fell back when he swept his cold gaze over them. He knew he scared others there in the small waiting room, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but keeping Catarina alive.
He was in a cold sweat at the thought of losing her, his guts twisted with fear. He knew Jake hovered close, probably out of fear that if anything went wrong, the male leopard would take over in an effort to protect Eli. He couldn't imagine what damage a grieving male leopard would do in the small hospital waiting room.
He felt his leopard close and it should have been a comfort, but all it did was make him feel more desolate, more alone. When had it happened? How? From the first moment he'd walked into the dojo and saw her working out, something inside of him, something that had always been closed off, shut down, broken, had suddenly come to life. She was that life. Her warmth. Her laughter. Her intelligence. The way she took care of him. The way she delighted in caring for him.
His hand gripped the window ledge until his knuckles turned white. Don't fucking take her from me. He didn't even know who he was without her. He'd walked through his life, feeling no joy. No happiness. How could he ever go back?
There was a small commotion at the entrance to the waiting room and he turned his head. Emma entered. Jake's face immediately became a mask of fury. Surrounding her in a solid shield were Joshua, Trey and Elijah. They had the look of bodyguards and the two people who had remained in the room fled.
Emma ignored Jake and went straight to Eli. He couldn't swallow the sudden lump that rose in his throat. The sight of her pregnant body choked him. Maybe it was the compassion on her face. He gave her the death stare, the one that always kept everyone away from him, but she kept coming, ignoring his silent warning, just as she ignored Jake's anger that she wasn't at home where he expected her to be. Eli's eyes burned and he turned his head back to stare into the window. He could still see her reflection in the glass, that beautiful face, reminding him exactly what he could lose.
"Eli, she'll fight. That's who she is."
He shook his head, pressing his fingers to his burning eyes. "You didn't see her, Emma. She was torn up. He'd beat her before the leopard got ahold of her. She's so small. Vulnerable. I should have gotten to her faster."
"Don't." She pressed her head against his side, heedless of the blood. Her fingers gently circled his forearm. "You don't understand women. I do. She loves you with every breath in her body. She'll fight for you. She isn't weak and fragile. She's strong. I listened to her when she told me about living in that house with him. No child should have survived such a nightmare, but she not only survived, she educated herself and she found a way to escape. That took courage, especially after the things Jake told me were done, killing a friend in front of her and convincing a young girl the blood was on her hands. Catarina is courageous. She's a fighter. She doesn't stop. You have to believe in her and trust her right now."
He knew she was trying to help. And maybe it did help. He was grateful they had friends that would take the time to come and see how Catarina was doing. He forced himself to look down into Emma's face, knowing she would see his anguish. His pain. The looming gut-wrenching sorrow. He was totally vulnerable in that moment--absolutely naked and he didn't give a damn.
"I'm certain she's pregnant. Not very far along, but . . ." He shoved his hand through his hair in agitation. "I don't care so much for myself. Right now what matters is that she lives, but she'll tear herself up thinking she should have done something more to protect our child."
"Eli." Emma's voice was soft. "You know better than to do this. You can't control what's happening in that operating room, and you're making yourself crazy. You and Jake think you can control every aspect of your environment, and you just can't. Don't think about things you don't know will or won't happen. Just send her strength. Send her your love."
He didn't answer her. She was right of course. He did want control of everything in his environment, especially Catarina. His parents had kissed him good-bye and left the house laughing. He'd stood at the window waving. They never came home and his life changed completely. It wasn't that he'd been in bad homes. He just had been moved from home to home, and no one cared about him after that. He hadn't cared after that. He wouldn't allow himself to care. Until Catarina. She found her way into his heart, into his soul, and now he stood in a fucking waiting room because he hadn't kept her safe enough.
The waiting seemed endless. Jake stalked across the room and tugged Emma away from him, putting her in a chair, and sliding a second one close so she could put her feet up. Joshua handed him a wet towel without saying a word. Eli used it, wincing as he wiped at the rake marks on his chest. The slashes were deep and yet he hadn't noticed he was injured.
It was useless to put on the T-shirt they'd brought, not with blood seeping from the various wounds on his body. It didn't matter to him. Nothing did. He kept his gaze on the double doors where they'd taken her. Waiting. His heart in his throat.
He heard the
measured footfalls coming toward them from the hallway leading to the surgery rooms. His pulse thundered in his ears. He felt bile churning in his gut. Still, he didn't move, every muscle locked in place. His leopard pushed close, too close to the surface. Beneath his skin the wave of fur sent an itch rushing through him. His eyes went cat, heat waves banding.
Every scent came to him, pouring off the doctor as he stepped through the doors. Her blood. Her scent. He didn't go to the doctor. He couldn't take a step, not without his cat forcing a shift to protect him.
"Mr. Perez?"
Eli nodded. That was all he could manage. The rest of his body was locked in place. Frozen with fear. Coiled and ready to strike.
"I'm Dr. Mulligan. Jake called me in to help with Catarina. She's alive and she's doing very well. The woman is a fighter." There was satisfaction in his voice.
Eli's entire body seemed to shut down. He was afraid he might actually collapse. The thunder in his ears roared louder and little jackhammers tripped against his skull. He forced his body under control because the doctor continued to speak and he needed to listen.
"There was a severe loss of blood. Broken ribs. She was battered, but she protected the baby. There wasn't so much as a bruise on her stomach or abdomen. Her ribs, hips and back took the brunt of the attacks. We had no shortage of blood. Jake called it in fast, and Dr. Mason and I were set up for her. She'll be sore and weak for a while, but she's going to be fine."
Eli glanced around the room. There were only shifters. "Her leopard?"
"I'm certain the leopard is okay as well. There were no signs that there was any damage, but of course we had no way of examining her cat."
"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 f
ingers 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.