TWENTY-THREE

"You didn't come home last night."

Okay, that is just creepy.

I shuddered before realizing that all four vampires were tense as they stared at me and my phone. Of course, they could hear and were not at all impressed with my caller. I gave a long sigh and said as calmly as possible, "You do realize that in the state of Washington, stalking can be tried as a felony."

To my shock and horror, he answered, "I've never stalked anyone before, so they would only try it as a misdemeanor."

Okay, that is beyond creepy. That is just downright scary!

"Jacob," I ground out, "what do you want? And why the hell were you stalking my house?"

"Where are you?"

I rolled my eyes and plopped down onto the sofa. "Not that it's any of your damn business," I snapped, "but I'm with my mate and his family. Now, answer my questions. What do you want? And why were you at my house?"

His voice was utterly dripping with loathing when he spoke. "Your leech isn't with you. I could smell him as he left town." He snorted on a chuckle as though he had thought of some joke that only he was privy to. "I came to your house last night to tell you that I really don't want you being with that bloodsucker, but to my surprise, you weren't there. The female leech was."

I inhaled deeply. "Her name is Esme, and Esme has every right to be there, because Esme is Charlie's mate, just like I'm Carlisle's mate."

"You can do better than him, Bella," he growled. "He's a damned bloodsucker. Those leeches may claim to drink from just animals, but I smelled your blood on him."

I felt nauseated and glanced at the other four, who looked just as disturbed. I had assumed that once the color was gone from my mate's eyes, the blood he drank would have been completely absorbed into his system. However, I was not about to let him know anything and answered calmly, "Not that my private life is any of your business, Jacob Black, but being female, I unfortunately have some personal business that asinine males like yourself do not have the joy of experiencing. It's a shame the powerful senses you think you have are so weak that they couldn't figure that one out. Secondly, who on Earth could possibly be better for me than Carlisle? Let me guess: you?"

"Yes."

I wanted to hit him. I wanted to put my hands around his neck and throttle him, as knowledge of how the members of his tribe found their partners and mated filtered into my head. "And how would that work, Jacob?" I queried angrily. "You would just date me until you found your soulmate and imprinted. Oh, yeah! I know about that. So what? Am I right?"

I seethed when I felt the waves of calm Jasper tried throwing at me and shoved them away with a scowl to the vampire. "You know damned well that we're not meant to be together, but yet and still, you are so selfish that you would want me to all but kill my mate by abandoning him for you. And why? Just so you can date me because you have a stupid crush? When you know you'd only turn around and dump me for your soulmate! That is not only the most childish and selfish thing that I have ever heard of but it's sick. The fact that you are keeping tabs on me and my mate is beyond disturbing, Jacob. I'm not yours. I never was and never will be. Get over it! Move on!"

I was just about to hit the end button when I added for good measure, "And stay the hell away from my house!" I hung up abruptly, growling as loudly as a human could, and glowered at the four vampires surrounding me. Well, I wasn't really glowering at them – they just happened to be in the direct path of my furious looks. "I guess I will have to tell Carlisle this?"

Jasper nodded. "Sorry, Bella, but he has to know and not just so he can protect you. If Jacob becomes unstable and tries to attack Carlisle, things could get very ugly very quickly."

I wanted to tell him that was what I was already worrying about, but instead curled up against the arm of the couch and opened my email on my cell to write Renee. The others left me to my silence for the most part, occasionally engaging me in talk or a game when I let my worry and separation get to me. It was while I was looking at color palettes online that Charlie and Esme breezed in. Actually, it was more like Esme breezed in and Charlie just followed her unsurely but with an appreciative eye.

"Are you all right, Bella-dear?" the matron cooed as she glided to me for a hug. "I heard the last part of the conversation with your… friend."

"I'm sorry, Esme," I replied softly.

"Don't be, Bella," she returned kindly, hugging me again. "You are not responsible for the choices of others." Her citrine eyes glanced down to my phone. "I think he'd like that color." I watched as a wicked smile crossed her lips as she pointed to another color. "Oh, he'd really love to see you in that color."

"Esme, it's for a room!" When she mumbled 'I know' with a chuckle, I felt my face growing dark as the heat rose swiftly to my cheeks. "Besides, I was just looking. We haven't even talked about anything. It's his room."

A soft growl came from above me, and we all looked up to see Carlisle leaning over the third-floor railing. "I do believe, m'Isabella," he said calmly, a smile small on his pale pink lips, "that we have already discussed the status of our room. And she's right. You would look quite lovely in that color." When my mouth dropped open and I spluttered my embarrassment, he chortled.

I pursed my lips and tried hard not to let his infectious laughter to win me over but failed miserably as the corners of my mouth curled slightly. "I can't believe you scaled the house to avoid bringing them into the living room with me." At my words, he launched himself over the railing and landed cleanly in the center of the living room, much to Charlie's astonishment and mine; though if I were to be honest, my admiration was for an entirely different reason.

He wore nicely fitted jeans and a button-up shirt of cornflower blue, but the surprising part was the casual way he wore the shirt. It was untucked and not only were the sleeves rolled up but the top few buttons were undone as well as the bottom few. The shirt opened up right above his belt line, showing just a sliver of milky-white skin. He appeared exactly the way I would have expected a twenty-three-year-old-looking, centuries old vampire to appear: absolutely mouth-watering. Sure, I had seen him before he left, but I was just a bit too distraught to fully appreciate just how absolutely gorgeous he looked like this. And apparently, I had been staring way too long because he smirked smugly as he queried, "Do you see something you like, mia streghetta?"

"Always, Reverend," I shot back, getting a growl for my efforts. I grinned mischievously. "You started it."

"Very mature, cara." He rolled his eyes then flashed over to me and lifted me into his lap. He purred loudly when I stroked his shoulders and nuzzled his neck, his chuckle blending with the sound when I once again attempted to get an answer about what it was he went for. "That I cannot tell you," he whispered softly into my ear, "until we are alone and I have you under my control."

I shivered when he gave a quick lap to the shell of my ear and hissed under my breath, "Charlie is here!"

"I am more than aware of that," he growled quietly. "It is the only reason that I have not dragged you upstairs and had my savage way with you. Because I can assure you that I desire nothing more than to hear you whimpering in ecstasy, begging me for more, screaming out my name as you claw at my back and the bed, and—"

Jasper began to growl deeply, partly in warning and partly from the emotions my mate was exuding. "Carlisle, you're killin' me here!"

He pulled away with a devilish smile. "I do apologize," he offered in the least contrite voice that I had ever heard from anyone. He pressed a kiss to the top of me head and settled up against the sofa. "I hope that my absence was not too horrible for you, mia passerotta."

It suddenly felt like the air had been sucked out of the room as every person went stiff or fidgeted in discomfort, which my mate immediately noticed. "What has happened?" he questioned, his voice low and harsh.

I bit my lower lip, not entirely sure of how he would react. We had made such good progress, and the knowledge of Jacob's actions was no small thing to anyone. "Jacob Black called." I expected the dark growl that began building in his chest. "He's been… He's been watching the house and he wanted to know why I did not come home last night. He even knew that you had left Forks."

Esme spoke up, her quite voice ringing through the den like a shot. "He practically admitted straight-out to stalking Bella. His exact words were 'I've never stalked anyone before, so they would only try it as a misdemeanor'."

The snarl that issued from my mate's chest was blood-chilling: it was harsh, thunderous, and purely feral. He was trembling so badly that I was surprised he had not thrown me from his lap and charged to the reservation to kill Jake. Instead, he buried his face in my neck and rocked us slightly, the enraged noises decreasing slowly in volume though not in harshness.

I suddenly felt a cold wetness running down my neck to my shoulder and realized that it was Carlisle's venom. I barely heard him murmur his apologies. "Do not say you're sorry. I have told you not to," I said evenly. "It upsets me when you do. Besides, I'm more worried about you. Does the family need to leave?"

He shook his head against my flesh, venom smearing on my skin. "I've regained the greater part of my control, and neither my family or the majority of the persons on this Earth are an immediate threat to my instincts anymore. Jacob Black, however, is not only a threat to your safety but a threat to my claim on you."

"No, he is not," I said soothingly. "He can whine, pout, and bitch all he wants. He has absolutely no claim on any part of me, Carlisle, and doesn't stand the slightest chance of having my affection. You've got complete control over my body and blood, my mind, heart and soul. I love you, Carlisle Cullen. There is nothing in this world that can change that fact."

He whispered through his growls terms of endearment into my ear in his favored Italian while the family talked quietly around us. I would have thought that the noise would have disturbed him, but as the conversations became more relaxed, the normalcy of our less-than-normal family routine seemed to settled him and I once again found myself with my back to his chest as we discussed the possible colors and the layout for our room. However, despite our regained comfort and the sense of happiness, there was something the back of my mind that told me that things with Jake were just going to get worse and worse. I prayed that the situation would not get desperate, because if it came to the worst, if Carlisle killed Jake, then I had a sinking suspicion that the majority of the wolves would rebel against Sam and the treaty and hunt down my family out of revenge.

Of course, if that situation were not bad enough, there was, in the back of everyone's mind, the question of what would happen with Edward Cullen when he returned.

.

Never in my life did I imagine having an argument like this, and had you told on Tuesday morning before my enlightening birthday party that I would be having this most unusual argument with Carlisle Cullen, who just happened to be my mate, I would have laughed in your face. Because the situation we were in was ridiculous: We faced off against each other from either side of the island counter, several home interiors books and color swatches between us. I fumed more in bemused exasperation than actual anger, and he leered at me with the filthiest grin that I had ever seen on his face. I attempted to growl in annoyance, though it came out as more of a choked laugh.

"We are not decorating our bedroom that color, Carlisle!"

"If you are allowed the leeway to choose ochre, I should be allowed to choose myrtle green," he argued, grinning the entire time.

"I," I emphasized, trying desperately to hold onto my veneer of frustration, "have a valid reason to be choosing that particular color. You have a lewd reason for wanting your color!"

The entire family was gathered in the kitchen. Most of them sat around the table with Charlie, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement even though his face was stern. Esme was at the stove, cooking, and Jasper hovered near a window. As it was the third day of my cycle, my blood was far less than appetizing to most of the vampires in the house but particularly to the overly-sensitive Texan. I had let him know the moment we had entered the smaller space that I would not be offended if he needed to leave, but apparently my bizarre quarrel with my mate was more appealing than the grotesque scent of my dead tissue and blood was unappealing.

"You want the color because it matches my eyes."

My nostrils flared as heat filled my cheeks. "No…" I drawled, denying the obvious truth of his statement. "I want ochre because it is a warm color that is reflective of—"

"My eyes," he supplied with a teasing smile.

I huffed in exasperation. "Even if that were the case, it is still a better reason than picking a color simply because you think I'll look good nude in room that shade!" I slapped my hands on the counter and ignored Charlie's disgruntled groan of displeasure. "You do not get to pick it because you think it looks good with my naked skin. No! Also, it's not even a proper green. It looks like an olive mated with the Ghost of Turquoise Past."

Ever-so-slowly, he began to stalk around the counter, obviously enjoying my challenging him. I moved away toward the other side as I hoped to keep away from him, his leering eyes, his talented hands, and his sharp teeth! I really did not have to worry about other parts as long as we were in the kitchen with the family and for that I was grateful. "Carlisle," I began as smoothly as possible, trying to reason with him, "you cannot be serious about wanting to paint the room because of—"

His smirk grew. "I am entirely serious, m'uzzola. When you are asleep, it is not as if you will see the color, and when you are awake, you are generally a bit preoc—"

"Carlisle!" I shrieked over Charlie's complaint of 'I did not hear that' and backed farther around the corner until I was in the position that he had just left and him in my former spot. "Carlisle, we cannot have myrtle green."

He growled playfully at me. "We can always have another forest color, if you prefer. Or perhaps a tropical one?" He suddenly had me pinned to the counter, having blurred around to grab me and kiss me passionately. After having thoroughly stolen my breath from my lungs, he smiled lovingly down at me. "Bella mia, you cannot imagine how much it would please me—" He held up a hand at my protestation. "You absolutely refuse to consider red because you feel that it would irritate you. My pride dictates that we cannot have purple or pink, as it reminds me of a ten-year-old schoolgirl, and we both agreed that orange is quite atrocious. That leaves us with browns, yellows, greens and blues. And no matter how much you try to deny it, we both know that three of those colors you only prefer because of my eyes or how you like the color with my skin." When I blushed darkly and opened my mouth to protest, his hand flew to cover my lips as he murmured, "I am not above begging, mia passerotta."

My eyes went wide. I stared at him for a moment then shook his hand away. "You really want green that badly?" When he nodded, I felt my lips twitch. "I'm not opposed to green in general, but I just don't like that shade. Myrtle green looks so… dead. Does it have to be that shade, Carlisle?" He shook his head, and I bit my lower lip before asking, "How about viridian or a dark sea green? Or a dark sage green? Or any shade of green that doesn't look like we vomited up the decayed remains of a plant? Would that work?"

He titled his head and gazed down at me thoughtfully, trying to figure out why it was that I was giving in so easily. "Will it truly bother you? If you are going to absolutely loa—"

I leaned up and kissed a patch of marble just below his ear, chortling softly. "Do you know how funny and utterly adorable it is to see you so desperate about this?" When he claimed that his earlier words about pleading were just to get what wanted and that he was in no way, shape or form desperate, I shifted my body and rubbed my thigh against his raging erection, smiling. "You want to rethink that statement, Doctor Cullen?"

He growled and his eyes snapped closed as he attempted to regain control of his libido. "Yes," he ground out, "because I think that we need to get some paint."

I leered at my mate and stroked my hands down his chest. "Oh, I promise that we can get some after lunch."

From at his spot at the table, Charlie ground out miserably, "That comment had better still about paint!"

.

TBC

Today's Latin Proverb: Espice, adspice, prospice. (Look behind, look here, look ahead.)