A Tiger's Bride (A Lion's Pride Book 4) (5 page)

“Or you’ll what?” she dared, a flash of courage emboldening her.

“Kiss you goodnight.”

And he did. Spinning her back to face him, he kissed her with breathtaking hunger, with a mouth both hard and soft, demanding yet coaxing.

He
owned
her in that moment. Right then and there, she would have followed him everywhere, but when she felt the prick of a needle in her buttock, she growled, “Not again.”

Night slammed her into instant sleep.

How did I get into so much trouble? And so quick?

Dmitri scrubbed a hand through his hair, the only evident outward display he’d allow at how things had gone from interesting to what-the-fuck in a matter of two days.

Take now for instance. He was a married man—and yes, this marriage was valid, especially once he bedded his new wife. Married and yet his welcome to Teena’s family currently involved evading a psychotic father-in-law. Peter wasn’t the only one he needed to avoid. Add in dodging the numerous eyes and ears belonging to the lion prides. Even if Arik’s pride resided half a country away, there was no doubt that Arik would have some kind of spy network or friendly treaties with the locals to keep watch for a Russian diplomat. Watch and yet not detain.

They couldn’t technically stop him, not without permission of the high council—whose palms he greased well—but the local lions could delay his departure and search his plane for evidence of a certain female.

Whom they wouldn’t find. He’d made sure of that.

As if that weren’t enough, Dmitri also remained on the lookout for assassins who might work for Peter. They could be lurking anywhere. He hoped so. He did so enjoy a little sport.

Also of entertainment were the phone calls he fielded from people looking for Teena.

“Do you have her?” Arik asked without bothering to say hello.

“I did not kidnap her.” Dmitri could say it and sound honest. He hadn’t. His henchman had, against his last order.

Luna also contacted him and warned, “Don’t you dare leave and fly back to Russia where I can’t get you.”

As soon as that plane is fueled, we are out of here.

“You’d better not marry her and seduce her either.”

I never did like taking orders. Giving them though…
If he ordered his new wife to kiss him, would she obey, or would she bite?

Shudder. Either option worked.

So, yes, he did the opposite of what they all said, and he didn’t regret it once he did. He still couldn’t believe his henchman had even managed to pull the kidnapping off.

When he got the phone call the morning after Meena’s wedding saying they’d snagged Teena and were driving to Kentucky, where they would wait for him at the airstrip owned by a family friend, Dmitri might have squeaked.

“You were supposed to abort,” he hissed into the receiver, hand cupped over it lest someone overhear. He took himself to the small bathroom attached to the room and closed the door before turning on the water. He relaxed a little. “What the fuck?”

“We kind of didn’t get that text, boss,” Viktor announced, his Russian loud and booming. “So we went ahead with the plan. We got the girl and are now en route to the rendezvous point.” Which meant, when the pride inevitably sent someone to search his plane hangared in the nearby city, they would find nothing, and they’d have no reason to hold him.

A brilliant plan, devised of course by him, and yet how he hated it because it added a few complications, such as ruining his intention to woo Teena.

Then again, perhaps she’d see the romance in it. Drugged and kidnapped, taken on a wild romantic adventure.
With me.

How could she want anything more?

Knowing what he did meant pretending he didn’t. The morning proved tense, the breakfast table sluggish as many slept in after the previous night’s festivities.

Peter, however, was there, and as soon as his gaze hit Dmitri, his brow knitted in a frown.

Entertainment for breakfast. How kind of his hosts. After layering a plate from the buffet laid out across two tables, Dmitri seated himself across from Peter.

Dmitri waited until the man took a sip of coffee—black of course and he’d wager no sugar—before saying, “Good morning. I’m surprised you slept, given what your daughter was doing last night.”

Out spewed the coffee, and over the table Peter lunged, hands reaching for Dmitri’s throat. Except Dmitri wasn’t there. “Calm yourself. Such a peasant reaction on a truth. What else would Meena and that mangy husband of hers be doing?”

“You didn’t lay a hand on my Teena?” Peter swung his legs off the table, scattering dishes so he could hop off and stand.

Dmitri smiled. “A hand? As if one was enough. I used both of them. And my lips. She kisses quite well. I shall quite—”

As expected, things got kind of physical at that point, but Dmitri made sure to not damage Teena’s father—too much. As for his bruised ribs and swollen right eye, those were for show, so the older man didn’t feel slighted. He couldn’t hide the truth from his inner sense.

Beaten by an elder.
His tiger collapsed in a heap and flung its legs in the air.

Was not. He just got lucky.

Lucky, too, was getting tossed from the property before anyone thought to check on Teena, and even if they had, a note had been left, but Dmitri didn’t know how long the forgery would stand.

Best to leave while he could, and even then, he didn’t make it to the airport before news of Teena’s disappearance hit the gossip lines. That, in turn, led to his plane being searched before he arrived.

Let them. They’d find nothing.

But they sure as hell suspected when his plane dropped out of sight for a quick landing, pickup, and takeoff. If he could have flown straight to Russia, then he would have. But even he knew they’d have to land on the West Coast to refuel in order to ensure they’d make the journey.

Now some would probably say, if he knew he was being chased, and if he valued his hide, then all he had to do was give Teena up. Leave her behind and go home.

To that, the man, not the beast, growled, “Hell no.”

But escaping with her was only part of the steps to ensure their future. Once he reached his homeland, he’d have only a little time to convince her to keep him before the council became involved. They tended to frown on shifters, even practically royal ones, abducting women.

Apparently it was
so
eighteen hundreds.

Old didn’t mean it wasn’t efficient. By marrying Teena, he solved a few issues. First, he could tell the council she was his wife, and they’d have a more difficult time forcing him to give her back. Two, their marriage gave her a legitimate case to stay—
even though just being with me should be enough
. And three, in the eyes of the law and anyone watching,
it makes her mine.

Mine. Touch and die.
How cute that his inner tiger lived by grandmother’s unofficial motto.

He wondered how many would admire his perfectly executed escape. Teena certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it yet. She threatened to scream and to draw attention so…

He plunged a needle in her ass, and promised to, “kiss it better later.”

Her wifely reply. “You’ll be dead later.”

Not the most promising of words, but hey, at least she planned on a later.

Here came a sluggish awakening. Again.

Her tongue felt thick in her dry mouth, her eyelids heavy and refusing to open.

“Blerg.” She announced her annoyance to the world in a language lost with the passage of time that harkened back to when cavemen ruled. The one-syllable word conveyed numerous things—that she was awake, thirsty, and too lazy to do a damned thing about it.

Thankfully, someone understood cavespeak.

A pair of hands maneuvered her upright and then anchored her in a seated position. Her head lolled onto a broad shoulder. A familiar scent surrounded her.

Dmitri’s scent. My husband.

Funny how the more times she thought or said it, the less strange it seemed to become.

“Drink this.” A cold glass, the side slick in moisture, was pressed into her hand.

Greedily, she brought the tumbler to her lips. Missed. The rim hit her cheek, but, good news, it only slopped a bit, and the cold splash on her face helped revive her a little.

She cracked an eyelid, readjusted the glass’s angle, and tried again.

Success!

Fresh, clean water wetted her mouth. She gulped it, each swallow a refreshing waker-upper. When she’d drained it almost dry, a hand plucked it from her grip.

“Would you like some more?”

“Is it drugged?” she asked, rather dryly.

His tone held humor as he replied, “Kind of late to be asking now. But no. That was water and nothing more.”

Feeling herself getting stronger and more alert, she managed to keep both eyes open and kind of peeked around. Not a single thing looked familiar. “Where are we?”

“Does it matter?”

Of course it did. She needed to escape. Needed to get away from this psycho who’d drugged her and made her his bride.

Why must we leave?

Her lioness honestly wanted to know why she felt a desperate need to flee.

Because. It was the smart thing to do.

But why?
Her inner feline truly didn’t understand her problem because, technically, Dmitri hadn’t done anything to harm Teena. On the contrary, he’d shown an ardent interest in her, enough that he’d taken a page from the romance novels he read, abducted her, and married her.

Which meant he’d now expect to bed her.

The flutter in her belly had nothing to do with fear.

Did he sense the swirl of anticipation that hardened her nipples? Was that why he stiffened beside her? She pushed away from his arms and stood, needing to put a bit of distance between them. Being so close to him muddled her thoughts.

She wobbled but slapped away his hand when he reached out to her.

Don’t let him touch me.
She found it harder to think when he was so near.

For distraction, Teena took stock of her surroundings, her very rich surroundings.

Sumptuous didn’t begin to describe the room. Imagine a cavernous space with a tall, very tall ceiling, the crown molding on it thick and ornate, which matched the rest of the room. Walls, patterned with paper in subtle gray and silver, were offset by the cream-colored wainscoting hugging the bottom half. Dark wood floors gleamed, their expanse broken only by the furniture that graced the space. Plush carpeting, with intricate designs, defined the areas of the room. A wall of windows overlooked a city, but a city unlike any she’d ever seen.

A city with rooftops dusted in snow.

I don’t think I’m home anymore.

The realization should have shocked her, and it did, but more with excitement. For the first time, Teena lived a true adventure, and she was the heroine, not the clumsy instigator.

Legs still wobbly, but unwilling to take the spot beside Dmitri on the sofa, Teena seated herself on a plush dining chair, the back and seat covered in a shark-gray velvet fabric, the table before her a gleaming mahogany inlaid with lighter strips of something more exotic.

Her finger idly traced the design as she sought to compose her thoughts.

“Do you wish stronger refreshment?”

Dmitri’s accented words never failed to tickle her, and yet she retained enough wits to reply. “The last time I drank with you, I ended up drugged, brought to a strange location, and married.”

“Years from now, you will cherish my romantic gesture.”

“Cherish?” She couldn’t help a snort. “You’ll be lucky if you get to live once my dad finds out.”

Poor Daddy. He did his best to abide by the laws, and yet, forensic evidence worked against him. He did get lucky in that key facts tended to get omitted in final reports, leading to him not having as many convictions as expected. Still, though, those couple of years he’d spent in jail during her toddler years had proved rough for their mother. Especially once Teena and Meena learned how to escape their nursery.

“You do realize that the mention of possible pursuit and energetic sport is a positive in my world?”

“Just my luck, I’m stuck with a guy who might be distantly related to my crazy and violent family.”

“Fear not, little kitten. We share no common descendants. My grandmother checked.”

“When did she have time? We just met.” Given he wouldn’t meet her gaze, she didn’t have to guess. “It wasn’t me you checked, of course, but my sister. The one you meant to marry.” She couldn’t help the flatness of her response.

Despite their absolute devotion to each other, Teena and Meena had enjoyed a certain rivalry of sorts growing up. Meena got an A in math. Teena got one in science. So Meena then went and made the boys’ hockey team. She was a damned good player, too, until she got boobs and she declared they got in the way of her stick.

When it came to boys, their tastes varied, as did their expectations from men. Meena just wanted a good time with someone who could handle her two left feet, violent outbursts and all.

As for Teena…
I just want someone to want me.
Her. As she was. Not as second best.

Despite his claim of a romantic gesture, Dmitri hadn’t abducted or married her out of love but because he hadn’t married her sister first. Teena had too much pride to accept being a replacement.

Dmitri tilted her chin with a finger, raising her gaze to meet his. “Why are you appearing so sad? Surely you are not upset still at my tiny mistake.”

“Tiny? The only reason you’re not married to my sister is because she escaped.”

“Escaped? Or was she freed by fate because it wanted to help me right a wrong?”

A derisive noise escaped her. “My daddy would say you are so full of poop right now your eyes are brown.”

“Your daddy says poop?”

“Of course he does, because the other word is vulgar, don’t you fucking know.” She deepened her voice in her best imitation of her father.

Dmitri slapped the table as he barked with laughter. “Little kitten, you are just full of surprises.”

“I am, and you might not like some of them.” Most people tended to mock her once they discovered her biggest weakness. Only Daddy never teased her.

But Dmitri wasn’t her daddy. Not even close. He made her think of all kinds of things, none of them decent—but definitely exciting.

“We all have our quirks,” he said.

Quirks? Such as her ability to cause trouble simply by entering the room?

No one could ever discover a plausible explanation that day for the dance floor studio flooding, a good thing or Daddy might have had to rob a bank again to find the money to fix it. It wasn’t as if she’d done it on purpose. She’d simply bumped that pipe with her head when she bent down to tie her shoe. Not even that hard. Next thing she knew, a hairline crack appeared and moisture beaded. No big deal, right?

When the wave of water rolled from the door in a slow spread of liquid determined to conquer, she’d wisely screamed like everyone else in her dance class and hustled her tutu-ed butt out of there.

However, Dmitri didn’t know about these incidents, or the fact that no insurance company would provide coverage to her immediate family anymore. Or that Daddy had bad-ass connections. Her father might call his dealings with less than savory types ‘delegation’ in front of her sister and mother, but she’d overhead him tell the guys that his staff saved him from doing time, which, in turn, meant spending more time with the family.

Daddy always did put them first.

“I don’t understand why you did all this. Are you mentally deranged?” Not that she’d hold it against him. Her family had its fair share of
special
people. “I mean, really, could you have chosen a worse time to kidnap me?” Especially considering he was vastly outnumbered if caught. Then again, it would have taken only one outraged father to end his wedding plans.

“Have you already forgotten the whole thrives-on-danger thing?” Any other male might have looked arrogant rolling his eyes and making that claim. Not so with Dmitri. He managed a subtle wink that just made him appear even more rakish. Dangerous. Probably violent. All things she tried to escape…but kept finding her.

“Fine. You liked the danger of stealing me from under my family’s noses. But drugs? Really?” The idea of being incapacitated freaked her out. During that vulnerable state, anything could have happened.

Such as someone changing her out of her dress from the wedding. She peeked down at the track pants and sweatshirt she wore, her feet shod in socks and white sneakers. All of it a perfect fit and definitely not seductress material.

“Who dressed me?” Had Dmitri peeled her gown from her, his hands manipulating her body as he eased the fabric off? Even more important, had he liked what he saw?

She couldn’t help a shiver as she wondered if he’d touched, even inadvertently, the swell of her breasts as he clothed her in a track suit.
How sexy. Serviceable cotton athletic wear for my wedding day.
How her mother would cry when she heard. But hey, on the upside, Teena was married. Maybe. “I don’t think a marriage is binding if one of us is drugged.”

“Only if someone makes complaint. No one would dare.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Think again, big guy. I might. I was, after all, the one drugged.”

Funny how he just refused to look repentant, he didn’t even get close, not with that cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, in this case a canary called Teena.

“You won’t turn me in.”

“I should just to wipe that smirk off your face,” she grumbled. “That wasn’t cool, at all.”

“The drugs were a regrettable choice. I had hoped to actually woo you into accepting my courtship. However, time was of essence. Hence why you found yourself incapacitated so that my men could spirit you from the ranch.”

“Why not wait until I’d left and then nab me?”

“Wait? I don’t wait, especially since a delay might have meant another could sweep in to steal you.”

She couldn’t help but snort. “Because I’m in such high demand.”

“Such perfection as you possess is a treasure many would covet.”

The beautiful words affected her more than she liked, but they also reminded her that they were probably spoken to her sister first.

And yet it’s not my sister who is now married to him. I am. He’s my husband. Mine.

Did it truly matter that he’d not chosen her first? He’d still gone through the trouble to claim her, at least in human legal terms. When it came to the more primal claim, he’d yet to make his mark.

Then again, they’d just gotten married, which made this their wedding night.

Tonight, they’d go to bed together.

Together, which meant sex.

With him.

Gulp.

How terrifying and, at the same time, exciting. Now if she only knew what to do. How did one act when confronted with a new husband? She certainly didn’t remember any chapters in her book of manners that her mother made her study that detailed what to do on her wedding night.

Such a heavy and handy tome. It had not only taught her the rules of a lady. It had also given her great posture after the hours she spent with it balancing on her head. Only once did the somewhat unwieldy book take a tumble and break her big toe. But cousin Polly, who’d pushed her, suffered a crooked nose and three loose teeth once Meena was done with her.

Who cared about her traumatic childhood, for others, not her? The more Teena strived to help, the more apologies were necessary.

She might have to apologize tonight to Dmitri as he discovered another of her quirks. Inexperience.

And no, she was too embarrassed to explain how a girl her age was still a virgin.

He, on the other hand, obviously knew his way around a woman. The thought caused a twinge of jealousy, a twinge that made her understand why her sister reacted so violently with those who touched her Leo.

No one touches what is ours.

Dmitri, though, he could touch her all he wanted.

Anywhere…

Hold on. Stop right there. Had she lost her mind? She barely knew him. How could she think of letting him touch her, and so intimately?

He’s a stranger.