Emin's Mate Read online

  Now he was the one jumping back as if he’d been burned.

  Oooooooookay.

  He’d just told himself he wasn’t going to be thinking about those lips right now. He wasn’t going to think about how plump they were. How pink and pouty. How they’d opened for him.

  Emin tore his hands through his hair and firmly went to sit back at his seat across from her.

  “The tea is hot. Blow before you drink.” He held up his own cup in front of him, showing her how.

  She imitated him and the ice cube that was in her mouth flew right out and into her tea. Her face sparkled with humor and happiness as she laughed.

  A good laugh, he noted. None of that childish giggling that some women thought was so desirable. No. Glory’s was a real laugh. Right from the center of her.

  He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

  “I will help you,” he said.

  The smile fell from Glory’s face. “To find my mother?”

  This was news to Emin, but he felt himself nodding. “Yes. With whatever you need. Tomorrow we go to my family. We will start there.”

  “You have family!” she said. “How wonderful. Brothers and sisters?”

  He nodded. “I have three brothers. And the youngest one has wife. So she is like sister. And then we have friend. Her name is AJ and she is like sister, too.”

  Glory nodded, her eyes concentrating on Emin with almost disconcerting focus. She was absorbing every detail. “And you have both a mother and a father?”

  Emin nodded.

  “Wow,” Glory said, taking a tentative sip of her cooling tea and squeezing her eyes shut against the sharp flavor. “Mmm. This is good. I always wanted a brother or sister.”

  She took another sip of her tea and looked around the cabin some more. “I have so many questions,” she said as a yawn rolled through her. She looked, Emin thought, exactly like a cat.

  “I will answer them in the morning. When I take you to my family.” He rose, leaving his tea on the table. “But now we sleep.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Glory took another big gulp of tea and set it back on the table like she didn’t want to be done with it but was desperately trying to follow Emin’s lead.

  She stepped away from the table and gripped the bottom of her shirt in her hands. She was just lifting it enough for him to see the dark indentation of her navel, the gentle, sloping curve of her hip up to her ribs when Emin grabbed her hands.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gravelly and heavily accented.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Shifting to go to sleep.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “You only sleep in tiger form?” He occasionally napped in his bear form, as he had that evening when she’d found him. But he never slept the night in his bear form.

  Her cheeks pinked and she let the shirt fall out of her hands. Emin dropped her grip and stepped back.

  “I can sleep in my human form,” she said, a slight defensiveness in her tone that Emin wished he hadn’t put there.

  He took another step back from her. “No. You sleep how you want. Make yourself comfortable.” He stalked to the bed, giving her his back. If she was going to strip and shift, then he really needed to not be watching. He grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and an extra blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed.

  He tossed them on the floor and prepared to make a place for himself there. Emin watched the top of her head in surprise as she stalked past him in human form still.

  “I can sleep in my human form,” she insisted again as he laid down on the floor, about ten feet from the bed, and stretched out with the pillow under his head. She hesitated for a moment. And then padded over to him, laying down next to him.

  “No,” he said and regretted his harsh tone the second that she jumped. He cleared his throat and tried for a little honey in his tone. What the hell was his problem? He never had trouble being sweet or smooth with women. In fact, he was the king of sweet and smooth. What was it about this one that made him rough? “You will sleep on bed.”

  She didn’t move and her cheeks pinked even further. She looked around at the room. “Okay. That?” she asked, pointing toward the bed. “My mother has described them to me but I’ve never seen one before.”

  Okay. What was that Americanism? One square? Danil would know. And would scold Emin for forgetting. No. It was ‘square one’. He’d be starting at square one with this one.

  Emin rose from the ground and tugged at her hand. He wasn’t gentle. Intentionally. He wasn’t a gentle man in general and if she had a problem with that, well… He had no way of finishing that sentence. Because if she had a problem with that then he had no idea what he’d do. But she didn’t seem to mind getting tugged along behind him.

  He took her by the shoulders and sat her down on the bed. His bed. In his pajamas. He chose not to jump off that particular cliff. So he took another step, flexed his hands at his sides in a rare show of nerves. “You lay there. With your head there. Cover with that if you are cold. Sleep now.”

  Without another word, he clicked off the lamp next to the bed and strode determinedly back to his little nest on the ground. He jammed his eyes closed and for the first time in his life, cursed how quiet his cabin was at night. Usually he was grateful for the ultimate silence after the hustle and bustle of the city or the volume of his brothers. But tonight, as he listened to her softly wiggling in his bed, her little exhales, Emin wished for a radio.

  Finally she stopped moving and Emin prayed for sleep. Every single inch of him was stubbornly awake. One part in particular. This was ridiculous. He hadn’t popped wood over being in the same room as a woman since he was twelve years old. And even then he’d recognized it as juvenile and something to get control over.

  Historically, Emin was very willing to buy into the exotic mysticism that every woman seemed to possess. Something inexplicable and powerful about them all. He’d always been happy to be swept along in the magic of a woman’s sway and not question or analyze. It was one of the great joys of his life. But tonight, right now, as his breaths felt like knives in his chest and her sweet, outdoorsy scent started to fill his cabin, Emin needed to solve this mystery so that he could get a little peace. He no longer wanted to be delightfully charmed or swept along. He wanted to solve this mystery, set it aside and get some shut eye.

  Sure, she was very pretty. And she was interesting because he’d never met a tiger shifter before. And she was fascinating because she didn’t know anything about living among humans. But that was it. She wasn’t some mystical, unsolvable riddle. No. She was just a sum of desirable components. That was all.

  Keeping a tight noose around his thoughts, Emin forced himself into a light sleep where he forced even his dreams to be polite.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Emin woke, sweaty as hell, and covered in a river of autumn leaves. Or at least that was his first thought. And then he realized that autumn leaves didn’t usually smell like sweet, sleeping woman and cascade over his chest in a weighted, wild press.

  At some point in the night, Glory must have crawled down from the bed to join him on the floor.

  Christos. Lord, save him. Think about Mama, he commanded himself. Think about Maxim burping. Think about swallowing bitter medicine, or biting your tongue.

  The morning sunlight slanted in through his windows and Emin saw that it was an appropriate hour to bring this woman to his mother’s house. Mama would know what the hell to do with her. Emin, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea.

  He wanted to hug her closer. Pull her completely on top of him and fully feel the weight of her. Not just the weight of her head, the one arm she had casually thrown over his middle. And was that…? Yes, one foot was tossed over his ankle as well.

  He needed to wake her, slide her off of him and get them moving down the mountain. But he also needed to get his wood under control before he woke her up. The poor girl was obviously a new soul, extremely innocent, and he didn’t want to
terrify her with his… full grown desire.

  So he counted backwards from 1000 in Belarusian and stared at the ceiling of his cabin as he tried to will his erection out of existence.

  And damn it, he was almost there when she yawned and stretched, her body an intriguing mixture of straining softness.

  Thwap. Emin winced as his boner sat straight up in the jeans he’d never taken off last night. He sat up too, hoping to hide its prominence from her innocent eyes.

  She stretched again, smiling with her eyes closed. She sat up beside him, an arrow of morning light across her eyes.

  “Mmmmm,” she said, smiling at him. “Sweaty.” She pulled Emin’s shirt that she wore away from her breasts and let it fall back. Emin watched in lustful horror as the damp cloth clung to the valley between her breasts, shaping to her like a second skin.

  “I was so cold last night without my fur,” she admitted. “I had to come to you for warmth. I hope that’s okay?” She looked up at him uncertainly.

  Emin, again, found himself choosing not to answer one of her questions. For his own sanity. “I said you could sleep as tiger. Whatever you wish.”

  “Well, I’ll-” She bit her lip and was obviously gathering her thoughts. “I’ll be human when you’re human. That’s what I always did with my mother.”

  Emin again said nothing. He stalked over to his coffee maker and flipped it on. Then he grabbed some more clothes for her from his dresser. “You can change in there,” he pointed to the bathroom. “And shower if you wish.”

  “Shower?” she asked, tipping her head to one side as she rose and accepted the shirt and pants from him.

  Whoops. Land mine. No way in hell was he explaining that to her. He was trying to get on speaking terms with his cock again.

  “Never mind. My mother will explain. At her house. Just put those on.”

  Glory went into the bathroom and shut the door and Emin quickly shucked off his own clothes. They were sweaty and restraining and smelled like her.

  God. What he needed was his bear. And fast. But he also needed Glory to be safely inside some baggy clothes from now until forever. He knew she would shift if he did. So he bit down on that desire and pulled on his clothes. Grateful for their cool, dry haven. He refused to think about her shimmying into his clothes.

  She came back out and Emin poured coffee into a thermos. He flipped on the faucet and let it run cold. Put some in another thermos for her. Certain she wouldn’t like coffee.

  “We go to Mama’s. It is only a mile or so down mountain.” He’d yet to turn and look at her. “We will walk in human form.”

  She wordlessly took the thermos of water he handed her and waited until she saw him sip his. Studying the contraption, she took a deep drink as well.

  “Oh, yum,” she hummed. “I was thirsty.”

  They stepped out to the front porch and Emin stepped into the boots he had there. He cursed when he realized that she didn’t have any shoes. Shit. They couldn’t walk through the woods with her barefoot. And he already knew he couldn’t handle watching her strip and shift.

  The car, then.

  ***

  This had to be one of the most interesting days of Glory’s entire life. She’d learned what it was like to sleep in human form, something she’d never even considered trying before. Tiger form was just so cozy. But she had to admit, it had been cozier to be next to Emin.

  Another first for her. A man. Speaking with a man. Looking him in the eye. And then sleeping all curled around him. It had been for warmth. But she’d soon realized that it had created a warmth on the inside to be that close to Emin.

  He was very firm. His body so different from hers. She’d wanted to indulge herself in running her hands over his shoulders, over the springy dark hair on his chest. She’d wanted to run her fingertip over his perfect nose. One that curved like a crescent moon. And his low, dark brow that kept his eyes in shadow. So handsome. And his lips. They frowned in sleep and she had wanted to press her own to them. But he’d been sleeping and she felt like that was something she should ask about before she did it.

  And now she was riding in a car! She’d seen them before, of course. But she’d never been in one. Though, she supposed the bad people probably put her in one to take her to the lab. But she’d been asleep for that.

  Glory frowned at that thought, but it was quickly washed away when she caught a scent.

  “Something smells so good,” she murmured as she looked around the car. Emin looked very serious as he drove the car with two hands. She took a moment to study him. He wore a white t-shirt and what she knew were jeans. It was almost the exact same thing that she wore, though she’d had to roll them up at the waist and ankles to make them fit. His skin was gold next to the white of the shirt and made her hungry for honey. “Is it you?”

  She leaned over the console to sniff at Emin, trying to get to the bottom of the delicious scent.

  He grunted as the tip of her nose came in contact with the side of his neck.

  “Nope. Not you. Although you do smell good,” she blushed with the words and wasn’t sure why. She was just telling the truth. She followed the trail to Emin’s thermos. “It’s your drink!” she said, picking it up.

  “Coffee.”

  “Coffee,” she repeated the word and then took a sip.

  He looked away from her as she pulled her face at the flavor.

  “It doesn’t taste the way it smells, but I think I like it.”

  He dragged the thermos away from her as they pulled up in front of a house. “Careful. Coffee has zip.”

  She had no idea what that meant but she was too excited and distracted to care. “Your mother’s house?” she asked, flinging the door open and hopping out of the car before he’d barely gotten the damn thing in park.

  Glory raced up to the front porch, Emin just behind her. Glory followed Emin into the house. Which smelled very interesting. Sharp and delicious and bright. Like summer.

  “Mama?” Emin called out.

  A woman’s voice called out in a language that Glory didn’t understand and Emin tugged Glory through the house.

  “A proper kitchen!” Glory exclaimed as Emin dragged her into the room. And it really was. There was a refrigerator almost as tall as Emin himself. And a shiny sink and something bubbling on what Glory knew was a stove. And on the side of the room, at a little table under a window, sat a woman who looked just like Emin.

  She peeked, in surprise, over a pair of glasses, her salt and pepper hair up in a bun. She wore faded jeans and slippers on her feet, an apron over everything. She was writing on paper and eating something when they came into the room.

  “You must be Mama!” Glory exclaimed, rushing into the room. She couldn’t help but lean down and embrace the woman, who was rigid in her arms for a moment before her hands came around Glory’s back. Oh, it felt good to be hugged. Glory hadn’t been hugged in so long.

  “And this is what makes your house smell so good.” Glory picked up the thing that Mama was eating. “What is it?” she asked Emin.

  “It is orange, a kind of fruit,” Emin replied, but his eyes were on his mother.

  “I am Katya, child.”

  Glory flushed and turned back to the woman, Katya. She was being rude to Emin’s mother by going so fast and trying to see everything at once.

  “I’m Glory.” She held out her hand to shake as she knew that civilized people liked to do. The two women shook hands and Glory held very still while Katya studied her carefully.

  “So, you find your tiger, Emin,” Katya said, looking up at her son. He must have told his mother that he had been looking for Glory all those months.

  “Da,” Emin answered, looking only at Katya and not at Glory at all. Glory shifted on her feet.

  “And you find that she is also woman.”

  “I knew she would be woman,” Emin answered.

  For some reason Katya laughed, swept her hand through the air toward Glory. “Yes, but…”

  Emi
n tightened his teeth in his jaw and looked irritated. With his mother? With her? Glory wasn’t sure so she just kept still.

  “You need break, Emin.” Katya’s eyes scanned Glory. “Before you have heart attack.” A curious smile worked its way over Katya’s face. “Gather your brothers.”

  “But, Mama,” Emin started, sounding so much like a child that Glory felt something in her chest flap its wings like a bird. She couldn’t have imagined strong, quiet Emin as a boy until that moment and it was doing things to her.

  “Don’t argue. She’ll be safe with me.”

  Glory looked between the two of them. “You’re leaving me?” Glory asked Emin.

  Something sharp and pained crossed Emin’s face for a moment and he took a small step toward Glory. But then his eyes slid to Katya and the look was gone. “For a while. You are safe here with my mother.”

  And then he turned and walked out of the room. Out of the house. Glory heard his car turn on.

  She turned back to Katya, suddenly nervous.

  “You want to shift, child?” Katya asked gently.

  Glory nodded, so grateful to be understood.

  “Okay.” Katya took her hand and led her to the back porch. “But don’t go far. And when you come back, I teach you to make sweet perepecha.”

  And Glory was so excited about whatever that was that she didn’t shift for very long at all.

  When she came back into the kitchen after a good hard run in the woods, snuggled back into Emin’s borrowed clothes, there was another woman in the room.

  She was short, and wearing clothes even baggier than Glory’s. Her hair was cut in a very interesting way that made her look very beautiful.

  “Ah,” Katya said, looking up from the steaming cups where the two women sat at the table. “Glory, this is AJ. You can trust her too.”

  AJ’s eyes were wide as she took Glory in. “Holy smokes,” she whispered, then turned back to Katya. “Did Emin have a stroke? I mean, good lord.”