On that note, she whirled on her heel and stomped upstairs, her ponytail swaying angrily back and forth.
Santo gaped after her, taken aback by her attack. At least it felt like an attack. But then most people found his size so intimidating that it was rare indeed that anyone even raised their voice to him, while she had not just yelled, she’d called him stupid. That made him scowl and wonder if she really was his life mate, after all. Were they not supposed to be your complement? The one you could not live without? Because he could certainly live without being called—
“Santo.”
He glanced around, surprised to see Marguerite still standing there. He’d forgotten all about her, but her presence just made matters worse. She’d heard Pet call him stupid.
“A word, please,” Marguerite requested gently.
“Go ahead,” he growled.
But rather than start speaking, she glanced to the side. He followed her gaze to see Bricker sitting in the living room, watching them with interest. It seemed he too had witnessed Pet’s tirade.
“The kitchen?” she suggested.
Nodding, he gestured for her to lead the way.
Seven
Pet strode into her room, snatched up her overnight case, and began replacing the few things she’d removed from it. There wasn’t much. She hadn’t really unpacked. Still, by the time she’d finished and zipped up the bag, the worst of her temper had run out and she felt stupid for losing it in the first place. She knew anger was a secondary emotion triggered by fear, whether it was fear of being helpless or trapped in a situation, fear for one’s physical or emotional or mental well-being, or fear of rejection . . . which was the basis of her anger, of course. She’d only realized it, though, as she’d lashed out at Santo with the accusation that he was either stupid or trying to let her know that he was no longer interested in her. That had been the reason behind her mounting frustration during their outing. Fear of rejection.
Dear God, she’d decided last night that it was better to avoid Santo. But when circumstances had thrown them together for the shopping trip and he’d been so uncommunicative and short, she’d feared he was rejecting her and flipped.
“Ridiculous,” Pet muttered, but knew the truth was she could tell herself that avoiding him was for the best, all she wanted, but that didn’t mean she was suddenly going to just stop being attracted to him. And while she’d said she was done, Pet suspected if he kissed her again, she’d respond just as eagerly. She’d like to think otherwise, but just remembering those few moments in the kitchen had her body responding. Sitting next to him in the SUV had been worse, though. Being just inches away from him, surrounded by his scent, able to feel the heat emanating off his body . . . She’d wanted so badly to touch him, but he hadn’t even seemed to want to talk to her.
“Pathetic,” she said under her breath, and grabbed her bag. She’d start loading the car. She might not be able to pack for Parker, but there were other things she could load, starting with her bag.
“She is your life mate.”
Santo came to a halt when Marguerite paused in the center of the kitchen and swung around to make that announcement. He scowled at the words and then shook his head. “But she—”
“Wants you to speak,” Marguerite interrupted gently. “I know that is difficult for you. You have spent more than two thousand years avoiding people and not talking. It has only been the last couple of decades or so that you have allowed yourself to enjoy the company of others, and even now, you mostly listen rather than talk. But she is your life mate, Santo. And she is mortal. While she has some knowledge of our existence, Pet has no idea that she is a possible life mate to you, or what that means. You will have to explain it to her, and even then she will not automatically just fall in with it. She will need to be wooed, and she will need to get to know you. She cannot read your mind as I can and see how good and fine a man you are.”
“You can read me,” he said heavily. It wasn’t a question so much as a resigned acknowledgment. Immortals as old as he could only be read when they allowed it, or for the first year or two after meeting a life mate. It was another sign that they had met one, they briefly lost control of their ability to shield their thoughts from others. If Marguerite, who was much younger than him, could read him, then Pet was definitely his life mate. The thought made him scowl and he complained, “She does not like me.”
Marguerite smiled and shook her head. “She does not dislike you, Santo. She is just frustrated that you will not speak to her properly and is taking it as a lack of interest.”
Santo’s mouth tightened. Lack of interest indeed. He’d spent the last hour fighting the urge to take her in his arms, but all he said was, “I dislike talking.”
“Well, you had best learn to like it, because you will not win Pet without it. The days of cavemen thumping women over the head and dragging them off to their caves are over.”
“Pity,” he growled irritably.
Marguerite rolled her eyes at that and said, “The modern woman is free to come and go as she pleases, so you had best start giving her a reason to want to stay.”
Santo grimaced, but then stilled and lifted his head slightly as an idea struck him.
Obviously still reading his thoughts, Marguerite tsked with exasperation and said, “And that does not mean instigating life mate sex to try to tie her to your side.”
“Why not?” Santo asked, almost embarrassed at how petulant he sounded. “It would bind her.”
“So would rope,” she snapped impatiently.
Santo nodded thoughtfully, almost wishing his conscience would allow him to actually do that. Not tying her up permanently, but just temporarily while he showed her what shared dreams could be like, which would hopefully lead to life mate sex, and—
“Santo,” Marguerite said with a shock that assured him she was still in his head.
“It was just a thought,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes.
Marguerite glared at him briefly, but then asked, “Do you want to be a true partner to her, or a vibrator with legs?”
“What?” Santo gaped at her. He thought he knew what she was talking about, but his brain was having difficulty putting the words together with the sweet, refined woman he’d always known as his aunt. Perhaps he was misunderstanding. English wasn’t his first language, after all, so he asked, “What is a vibrator?”
“Exactly what you think it is,” she said grimly, and then sighed and reasoned, “And if you use life mate sex to claim her and do not allow her to get to know you at the same time, that is all you will be to her.”
Santo suspected that was supposed to sway him, but really, what was wrong with being a vibrator with legs? She could use him, play with him, pleasure herself with him. He had no problem being used and played with, especially since her pleasure would be his pleasure, and he wouldn’t have to talk to her—
“Santo,” Marguerite gritted out, still in his head and obviously striving for patience. “Pet cannot love someone she does not know.”
“She would get to know parts of me,” he argued, still not convinced it would be a bad approach.
“She would get to know your penis,” Marguerite said bluntly. “And a woman cannot love a penis, no matter how talented it is. She will use it and enjoy it, but not love it, and so she would have no reason not to leave it and go find another equally talented penis, one that might actually talk to her.”
“That would be a very talented penis,” Santo pointed out with amusement. When Marguerite didn’t even crack a smile, he sighed and then shrugged and said arrogantly, “We are life mates. No other penis could pleasure her like me.”
Marguerite arched her eyebrows. “No other penis could pleasure her like ‘you’? Not ‘like yours’? You realize you just called yourself a dickhead, which is how you are acting right now.” When he flushed, she added, “And it is not necessarily true that no one could pleasure her like you. While it is rare for a mortal to be a possible life mate to two immortals, it does happen. As you well know,” she added heavily.
Santo frowned. He did know. It had happened to his cousin Raffaele just weeks ago while they were in Punta Cana. A woman named Jessica had been a possible mate for Raffaele and another immortal. Santo briefly fretted over the possibility that such a thing could happen again, but then shook his head. “The chances of that happening—”
“Are not zero,” Marguerite interrupted. “But even if that did not end up being the case for Pet, are you really fine with her walking away even temporarily to sleep with countless men to find out for herself that none can pleasure her like you?”
Santo stiffened at the very suggestion. No, he would not be fine with that. She was his.
“Me Tarzan, you Jane,” Marguerite muttered.
“What?” he asked with confusion.
“Nothing,” she said shortly, and then shook her head. “I am just a bit dismayed to realize that, despite your stalwart support of family members, and efforts to ease everyone else’s situation, a Neanderthal has been hiding under that silence of yours all this time.”
Santo clenched his hands at the insult. “I am not a Neanderthal.”
“Then stop acting like one and acknowledge that to claim Pet you will need to win her trust and love,” Marguerite suggested grimly.
Santo glowered at her, but after a moment, gave in and nodded. “Fine. How?”
Marguerite relaxed a bit and said quietly, “I told you. You need to speak to her so that she can see who you are.”
“What do I say?” he asked, and when she gaped at him with disbelief, he said stiffly, “I am not trying to be difficult. I dislike talking about feelings and such feminine things.”
“You do not have to talk about your feelings,” Marguerite said soothingly, and then her lips twitched and she added, “In fact, since most of your ‘feelings’ for Pet right now seem to be centered in your lower regions, I would advise against it.”