She laughed at his tone. "No, they were doing some roaming of their own."
"Why did you choose to study medicine?"
"You know how we double up - I talked to Tammy and we decided it'd be nice to have someone else medically trained. But it didn't fit." She shrugged. "So I took some time off, went back and majored in communications instead. Much better fit."
Riley nodded. "I didn't study beyond high school."
Mercy was surprised to hear the hint of hesitation. "Riley, you've been working in the pack since forever. You did an apprenticeship - I bet you're the go-to guy for everything and then some."
He gave her a slow smile that rocked her heart. Ah, damn. Pretty soon this wolf was going to become indispensable to her happiness. And the leopard both craved and feared that.
"I think," he said, "I'd like you to take me to Carnaval one year."
It was the last thing she'd expected him to say, but it succeeded in making her heart melt. For her, with her, Riley was willing to play. "You didn't roam, did you?"
A shrug. "I chose that - the pack wouldn't have minded if I'd taken off for a while. But I couldn't."
Because that wasn't who he was, Mercy thought. The predator's need to protect had overcome its need to roam free. "I'll take you to Carnaval," she said, stepping up to stand in front of him, hands braced against her desk, "if you stop avoiding the reason we're in here."
He thrust a hand through his hair, and when he looked at her again, any hint of vulnerability was gone, replaced by steely determination. "I'm keeping you."
Mercy blinked, so startled the leopard wasn't sure whether to snarl or stare. "Isn't that up to me to decide?" Females always had the last say in the mating bond.
He stepped closer, every inch the SnowDancer lieutenant. "You're my mate. End of story."
She raised an eyebrow. "You can't dictate that."
"Mercy, we're in the mating dance - just being around you turns my wolf crazy." Making a sound of sheer frustration, he did something she'd never have expected from staid Riley Kincaid before he showed her his wild creative streak. He reached forward, curled one hand around her neck, put the thumb of his free hand on her chin, and had her mouth open before she realized what he was about.
The kiss was long, deep, breathtakingly sensual.
And his hold, it was proprietary in the extreme.
It was, she had to admit, some kind of wonderful to be kissed so deliciously by the only man who'd dared play with her cat with the intention of winning.
He bit her lower lip.
Her eyes snapped open. "Kiss it better."
"No." He nipped her again. Sharp. Sexy. "You make me so f**king insane, I want to mark you all over. So everyone knows you're mine."
The leopard growled in her throat. "Not yours." She was her own person, a predator same as him.
"We'll see about that." This time, he dipped his head . . . and bit her neck in a suckling kiss that made her moan and thrust her hand into his hair, tugging him back.
"Stop that."
Instead of obeying, he reached up to squeeze her breast through her T-shirt, as if he had every right to be fondling her in her own office. And maybe glancing down to see that big, tanned hand on her body was mind-blowingly erotic, but . . . "Oh." He'd stopped nibbling at her neck and now nipped at her ear.
Mercy was astounded at the discovery that her earlobes were exquisitely sensitive. "Again," she ordered, one hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder.
"No." He raised his head, eyes glittering. "You can't have everything you want unless you give me what I want."
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't play games with a cat."
"Who else am I going to play them with?" A squeeze of her breast, a kiss pressed to her parted lips. "Play with me."
It was the one invitation he could've made that soothed the cat, made her want to relax, maybe tease him a little. But first - "You said you were going to try last night. Are you going to take this, take us, for granted because of the mating dance?"
"No." His hand was still around her throat, his fingers stroking in a possessive caress. "It's not just about having a mate."
"Then what is it about?" She pushed off the hand on her breast and stood upright. That free hand immediately settled on her butt. Pushy. But she liked him that way.
Leaning down, he locked eyes with her. "It's about having a mate who adores you."
She didn't know which one of them he was talking about, whether it was a promise or a declaration, but she did know that no woman could've resisted him at that moment. "Then we dance, wolf." A slow, teasing smile as she raised her arms to wrap around his neck, even as something deep in her screamed in warning - there was a danger she wasn't seeing, a shock she'd never be able to bear. But Mercy was too caught up in the lush hunger of the mating dance to listen. "Let's see if you can catch me."
He skated his hand from her neck and down her body to close over her hip. "I already did, remember?"
"New game." She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck, a spot she was becoming very fond of. Especially since he always blew out a breath when she licked her tongue over it. Like now. "New rules."
"Tell me the rules." He didn't seem to realize he was holding her head against him.
Hmm, she thought, Riley really liked having his neck kissed. She was so going to take him necking out in the woods. Smiling, she began to nibble on that strong column, feeling her cat purr as he shuddered and angled his head to give her better access. "The rules," she whispered, drawing the warm, masculine scent of him into her lungs, "are that there aren't any rules."