She cut up the two tomatoes and the small bunch of cilantro, added three pinches of oregano, two cloves of garlic and then studied the five small chili de arbol and the five serrano chilies. She wasn’t certain how she was supposed to chop them up. The recipe didn’t give specific instructions, only that they needed to be in the salsa that went over the shrimp. Taking a deep breath, she began, determined that Elijah would come home to one of his favorite meals.

*   *   *

ELIJAH frowned at Trey. “What do you mean, you haven’t seen or heard from her? You didn’t check on her?” The moment he’d come home, he expected her to be there. Right fucking there. Waiting for him. Glad to see him. Greeting him. Siena was nowhere around and that pissed him off. He’d been thinking about her the entire plane ride home.

“She went into the kitchen with Tomas and that was the last I saw of her,” Trey defended. “No one’s been in the house. My guess, she’s still in there, waiting for you.”

“When I leave her alone here, I want her checked on every twenty minutes or so,” Elijah snapped. He’d cleaned up on the plane, wanting to come to her fresh, without the smell of gunpowder, feral cat or blood. Drake had sewn up the two places he’d needed stitches. He was good to go. And she wasn’t there. Greeting him. Kissing him with that sweet mouth of hers. He fucking needed her. Right. That. Minute.

The moment he’d entered the house he had a bad feeling. He had no idea why, only that it was too quiet. He just didn’t like the way it felt. He didn’t like the fact that Siena wasn’t right there. Or that anyone hadn’t had eyes on her since she’d come home from Jake and Emma’s. He didn’t have time to waste snapping at security, he’d call a meeting later and lay down the law.

Turning on his heel, he prowled down the hall and took the shortcut through the atrium to the kitchen. The door to the kitchen was closed and he jerked it open. Instantly he smelled the potent aroma of Camarones a la Diabla. “What the fuck?” he snapped. His leopard was riding him hard. He still had the battle pumping through his bloodstream, the aggression. The need to conquer. The need to dominate. More, his cock was raging. Raging at him. None of that would disappear until he was buried inside his woman.

Siena didn’t turn away from the counter where she was running the blender. And coughing. Choking. She obviously hadn’t heard him come in over the blender, nor did she hear his angry question.