He had sex with women and sent them on their way. He didn’t spend a lot of time trying to impress a woman—truthfully he’d never had to. He tended to look at a woman and she went to bed with him, and then it was over because he wanted it over. He was in new territory—he loved Siena to distraction, and he had no clue what to do with her.

He had heated the food and lit the candles when she returned. The moment she entered the room, his gaze was on her. It would always be on her. He would know if she was close. Not only did every cell in his body react, but so did his leopard, the male leaping toward her female every time. The large cat was just as enamored with her little female as he was with the human.

He took a deep breath, watching her walk to him. She looked ethereal and very feminine in that long skirt, the way it clung to the curve of her hips. The camisole was tight through her narrow rib cage and tucked-in waist, but she hadn’t done up the laces, given him just what he’d asked for. Her breasts, so beautiful, full and creamy spilled from the top, the material framing them.

He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers, bringing up her knuckles to his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Siena, sometimes I’m afraid to look at you.”

He was. He was afraid if he looked too long, if he believed too much, she’d be gone, and the monster inside him, crouched and waiting, would swallow him completely.

She stepped in front of him before he could lead her to the table, blocking his way. He halted and found himself looking down into her piercing green eyes. Those eyes that always seemed to find him. The man. To see him. The man. Never the monster. She could keep the killer at bay so easily.

Her hands slid up his chest, she went up on her toes and her hands locked around his waist. “Look at me, Elijah,” she whispered.

He was looking. There was nothing else in the world for him but this woman and the child she carried in her body. His woman. His child. His own family. Right there in his arms. He locked her in place, holding her close to him, sheltering her with his body.

“I see you, baby,” he whispered.

“Do you? Do you see how much I need you?”

His heart clenched. Hard. Stuttered. He shook his head without thinking, an involuntary response to her question. How could she need him? He was a Lospostos. That name alone left a bad taste in anyone’s mouth. Unless they were looking for a favor or a thrill, good people gave him a wide berth. She was good people.