Chapter Three

Saturday morning, Stacey gripped her pack straps and stepped where Dean stepped, bringing up the rear of their two-man party. The night had been a living hell. Sleeping on the ground when feline was tolerable, but as a human? Her hips were sore and her butt felt numb. Though the summer weather made the days tolerable, nights in Montana were chilly at best.

Dean, to her chagrin, seemed to sleep like a baby while she tossed and turned in a sleeping bag not fit for a child. And then she’d had to take care of business in the woods. There was no water to drink or wash with but what she carried, and the stench of their makeshift fire had carried into her clothing. She wanted to run screaming to her hairdresser, but she’d left that life behind weeks ago.

A normal Saturday morning in Miami consisted of a nonfat latte and plans for the evening—as in, which man would be lucky enough to be her date to whatever boring nightclub she’d agreed to attend—and design time. Stacey liked to use her Saturdays to sketch new clothes and think outside the box. Her fun, creative spans gave her some ease from the stresses of running the business side of things that Miles didn’t manage from Monday through Friday.

Truth to tell, she’d much rather spend her weekends with her sketchpad or sewing machine dreaming up fashion. That or curling up with a good book. But her so-called friends, those darlings of society who kept her purse fat and happy, liked being seen with her. They bought the pieces she wore at the clubs, and they spread the word about her designs.

The men were a necessity. Accessories to dress up her solitude. A small part of her always hoped one of them might break her string of predictable, two-dimensional dates. Inevitably, they’d pressure her for sex, flatter her until she felt ill or show her off like a prize poodle.

She sighed.

“Keep up, your highness,” Dean said with cheer. The idiot started whistling and increased his stride through the well-traveled trail.

Dear God, they’d already walked three miles this morning. When could they shift and run as cats? She needed four feet, not two. Her boots were killing her.

She wanted so badly to complain, but she didn’t want to give Dean the satisfaction of being right about her.

He stopped so suddenly she plowed into his backpack. “Oomph.”

He turned around with a smile. “Sorry. Thought I heard something.”

“Like what?”

“Heavy breathing, a little grumbling, maybe. I’m not sure.” His eyes twinkled.

As annoyed as she felt, Stacey couldn’t help wanting to smile with him. God, a man this aggravating shouldn’t be this charming. She poked him in the chest, pleased when he grunted, and walked around him. While she followed the clear trail, her cat scratched at her mental guards to go free and hunt. The scent of deer and rabbit tantalized and her nose twitched. But reminders that Lex’s cats might be near kept her head clear of everything but Quince’s orders.

She snorted. The cat thought he could command her. How little he knew her. Stacey had agreed to be bait because she wanted to deal with Lex on her own terms. Screw Quince. If he thought she was worried about Miles, he could jump off a— Okay. So she worried about her brother. Miles let his anger get the best of him when it came to Quince, and she knew why.

Miles and Quince had been tight once. Best friends, until Quince’s responsibilities under their pride leader had taken his time. Miles had focused more on business, but they’d always been friends. For Quince to turn against the pride and take Lex’s side over Michael’s had hurt. Especially considering Miles’s clear loyalty to Michael and the well-being of the pride.

But Stacey still didn’t know exactly what to make of Quince. He’d had one of Joy’s pieces, her pride and joy during her jewelry-making days. She’d only given her bracelets out to loved ones. Yet Quince had one, and he’d obviously carried it around. The little threaded bracelet appeared worn and carried his scent all over it. He kept it in his pocket?

She had a bad feeling the man had a thing for Joy. Come to think of it, he and Joy had always seemed to rub each other the wrong way.

Kind of the way she and Dean argued.

An immediate remembrance of their kiss flared to life, and her entire body tingled. That rush of adrenaline when they fought had translated all too easily to passion. Is that what Quince felt for Joy? And if so, did that mean Dean felt something similar for her?

Horrified at the thought, she forced it from her mind. But that left her free to worry about Lex and Quince. She’d have to ditch Dean out here somewhere, and in a way that would keep him from looking for her. For all that he acted like he couldn’t stand her sometimes, he had as big a protective streak as his older brothers. But with Lex, Quince and a bunch of cats with confusing loyalties all roaming the forest, she didn’t want to take a chance with Dean’s safety.

Once she took care of Dean, then what? Quince had said he’d handle Lex. But would he be any better a leader? Just because he had a crush on Joy didn’t make him a hero. Far from it, considering how he’d turned on their pride leader in the first place.

“You okay? You worry me when you’re quiet.” Dean touched her shoulder, and that easily, arousal flared to life within her.

“I’m fine. Great. Just love this mountain air.” What she wouldn’t give for a whiff of her lemongrass aromatherapy as she basked in a mud wrap while Inga worked her shoulders.

She took her canteen out and drank, thirsty and tired, though she’d be damned if she’d admit it.

“Slow down.” He eased the canteen from her mouth and caught a drop of water off her lip. The sensual glide of his thumb over her mouth gave her goose bumps. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

His concern made it even harder to not want him. Even though he’d backed away from her like she had the plague yesterday, he looked anything but disinterested right now.

She coughed and took a subtle step back. “I hate to break it to you, but I can handle myself. I spent most of my life dealing with the urban jungle. Your little trek through the woods is nothing compared to summers in Miami.”

He tilted his head and stared at her.

“What?”

“So you’re loving this trek, eh?” The dimple that winked on his cheek made her heart race. “Gee, Stacey. And here I’d pegged you for a comfort and resort kind of gal. I can’t wait to tell Maggie that we can add your name to the list.”

“What list?”

“The girls are going camping in a few weeks. It’s a real fun trip they make once a quarter. Camping out under the stars, a campfire, roasting marshmallows. No men or civilization for a full weekend. Sounds right up your alley.”

Inwardly, she groaned. She already had withdrawal from the cell phone she’d been forced to leave behind at the pride. “Sure.”

Dean beamed. “Yeah. Just think. You can ask them all kinds of questions about how they like their clothes to fit while roughing it.” He paused. “What a great idea. I’ll make sure to mention it to Maggie and Julia. Oh, Gabby too.”

I’m sure you will.

“I’d tell Rachel,” he continued, “but she likes to spend her time off at the local spa. Not like you.”

The bastard didn’t believe her for a second. He could obviously see the sweat and dismay written all over her face. She hated being dirty when human. Even as a feline she spent an inordinate amount of time grooming. But she did like to shift into her animal soul and lose herself in nature, feeling the earth beneath her paws, catching the scent of prey on the wind.

Followed, of course, by a day being pampered at an exclusive resort. She had a feeling she wouldn’t get the spa treatment after this weekend.

Dean chucked her chin as if she were a three year old and walked away a few steps to confer with Monty via his HF radio. He signed off while she finished resting her tired muscles. God, she missed the familiar comfort of her heels.

“One more mile until we hit our change spot.” Where they’d shed their packs, clothes and skin, and haul ass, catamount style.

“Finally.”

Dean chuckled before setting out at another grueling pace. While he walked ahead of her, Stacey remained conscious of the scents and sounds around her. Though her human form dulled what her cat could pick up, she sensed enough to know they weren’t being followed. At least the sight of Dean’s tight ass took some of the sting from her craptastic weekend.

They arrived at an open area surrounded by trees. No larger than the size of two of the ranch’s large cabins, the site had a picnic table, a stone ring for a fire and tiny cabins spaced evenly around the camp.

Dean followed her gaze. “Yep. Primitive. No sinks or toilets. No hot water, no feather beds. Just a few cots and protection from rain and snow.” Dean winked at her before dropping his pack on the picnic table.

While he fiddled with the pack, she dropped her own to the ground and sat on the picnic bench. Her shoulders ached, her feet hurt, a trickle of sweat ran between her breasts and she had to pluck the back of her shirt from her shoulder blades.

“Okay, Stace.”

“That’s Stace-ee, with a Y.”

“This is our home base. We’re going to leave our things here and carry on, on foot, for a few miles more.”

“Oh God. Why?” She couldn’t contain the whine.

He shrugged. “I have an itchy feeling we’re not alone. Just humor me, okay?”

She sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Why? What have you smelled or seen that I haven’t?” Her voice dropped and her heart raced. Was Lex here already? How stupid that she’d thought she could ditch Dean before Lex found her. What if Dean got hurt? What if Lex killed him?

He crossed to her in two strides. “It’s okay, honey. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She took control of her runaway emotions, cursing herself for letting Dean scent her fear. “I’m not worried,” she said in as proud a tone as she could manage.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course not. It’s exciting to have a perverted son of a bitch panting after your fine body.”

She flushed at the backhanded praise. “Of course I’m concerned. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

He stared at her.

“Burke would be upset, and I’d be blamed.”

He scowled.

Pleased to have gotten the last word, she asked, “So where are we going for a few miles more?” She cast a last, lingering look toward the cabin nearest them.

“To check on a place not far from here. It’ll be safer to shift there, out of sight.” He took their packs into a cabin and returned after checking on the rest of the site. His seriousness and competency surprised her. She was used to charming, lazy, tricky Dean. She’d never before seen him so focused on a project. He hiked like a champ and knew his way around the equipment. She found his proficiency oddly attractive.

“Come on, princess.” Dean straightened, slapped his hands together and quickened his pace away from their home base after clipping the radio to his belt. “A mile and a half max and we’ll be there.”

They walked in silence. Stacey wondered what Dean thought about while they traveled. He’d never been a chatty cat, but he did like conversation. Was he being quiet because of possible predators tracking them? Or did he not want to talk to her? The latter hurt, because she liked arguing with him as much as she liked talking to him.

After a good mile, Dean pulled her off the path toward a darkened area leading to what looked like a cave at the bottom of the small hill.

“Where are we going? What’s down here?”

Dean didn’t answer. He hauled her with him and hurried into the cave. They moved deep enough that the sunlight had been eaten by the darkness inside. Only her enhanced night vision allowed her to see Dean.

He pushed her against the cold rock wall and crowded her space. “Okay. I’ve played along. Now how ’bout you tell me what the hell you’re really doing out here?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Her heart raced a mile a minute. Oh hell, where was her anger when she needed it? For some strange reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about their shared kiss from yesterday.

“You’ve been looking over your shoulder all morning. You’re twitchy, nervous and have the smallest touch of fear clinging to your skin. What’s up?” Dean pressed her for answers. “I may look stupid, but I’m not. What has you worried?” His gruffness faded when she put a hand on his chest. He captured it with his own and nuzzled her cheek. “Tell me, baby. I’ll help you deal with it. I promise.”

She lost herself in his scent, the pure animal grace buried under the smooth skin of a man in his prime. Dean might wear a man’s form most of the time, but he was all cat. Toying with her like prey, getting her to lower her guard while his scent and the feel of him wrapped around her like a trap…for some strange reason, it made him all that much more appealing.

“It’s…I… Don’t…” she rasped, her thoughts lost in a haze of overwhelming desire.

“God, you smell good.” He licked her neck and nipped at her skin. She couldn’t do more than respond when his hand cupped her breast. “And you feel like heaven.” The low rumble of his cat turned her on so badly she wasn’t sure she’d ever turn off. Not without his help.

“Go away, hillbilly.” She tried. She really did. But the breathy entreaty didn’t sway the overgrown cat. She blinked into golden eyes blazing with need.

“Away? Hell no. Not when your scent is screaming at me to get closer.”

She cursed her inability to remain unaffected. But so close, she couldn’t pretend she disdained him, not the male her cat had stupidly declared her own years ago. Stacey had been fighting herself for years, but at some point, she’d known she would need to get Dean out of her system. Sure they had chemistry. He was easy on the eyes. But not only did they not suit, he chased after anything in a skirt.

Before she could say anything, he stepped closer.

“Wait a minute. Stop.” She intended to push him away, but the moment her palms brushed his large biceps, her fingers curled around his arms and refused to let go.

“Oh yeah. I like your hands on me.” Dean purred low in his chest. “I want you to touch me all over.”

“Don’t you want to know what’s wrong?” She tilted her head back and shivered when he kissed his way down to her collarbone. “W-why I’m so nervous?”

“It can wait. ’Til after.”

After he screwed her brains out. She knew the sex between them would be dynamite. Yet another reason to stay far away from Dean Chastell. Stacey didn’t do second place, and she wouldn’t stand for being left behind by a tomcat who’d already cut a swath through much of Cougar Falls. But all the sense in the world couldn’t turn her away from him right now. She wanted him in the worst way.

God, it had been so long since she’d been with a man. So long since she’d found anyone her cat and the woman found pleasing. She let him kiss her, accepted the stroke of his fingers over her breast, the knee riding between her legs, pressing up against her.

She moaned and he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers until there was no question of who was in control. For the first time in her life, Stacey let a man take charge, and her cat purred against him.

His fingers left her breasts and moved down her belly to the snap of her jeans. She clutched his shoulders, feeling faint. Her desire had reached an all new high. His leg pressed up against her clit, and then he rotated his knee, grinding into her.

“Oh yeah. You smell so sweet, princess. Like candy I’m going to eat up. One lick at a time.”

She shivered, ensnared by the predator looking down at her like he owned her, everything forgotten but the hunger to have Dean inside her, filling her up.

A faint noise at the mouth of the cave intruded, the sound of something creeping closer.

Between one kiss and the next, Dean pushed her back and darted for the cave’s entrance. She’d never seen anyone move so fast, and if she hadn’t been Ac-taw, she would have missed his shift completely. In one fluid movement, he ripped through his clothes and turned into a russet-and-gold mountain lion.

He attacked in silence, but the yowl that escaped their intruder warned he’d hit feline flesh. The cat swiped at Dean with claws but didn’t do more than rake a slight trail of blood. Dean had the cat’s neck in his powerful jaws and wasn’t letting go.

Stunned to immobility, Stacey willed away the shock and started on the buttons of her blouse, determined to help, when the cat under Dean meowed a name Stacey wished she’d never heard.

Talk about complicated. She stopped unbuttoning her shirt. “Hell. Dean, let him go.”

Dean didn’t move. If anything, his mouth tightened around the throat of the large catamount beneath him.

“Dean, let him go.” Stacey swallowed hard. “He’s not here to hurt us.” I don’t think.

It took a moment, but Dean released the cat and stepped back. Then he prodded the other cat using the mental link most Ac-taw shared, the way they communicated when in their animal forms.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked the cat, slapping him with a large paw.

Ow! Damn it. Stop it.” The cat batted at Dean to stop. “My name is Jeremy. We’re watching out for you two.

“Who is we?” Dean turned to her, his golden eyes narrowed. He snapped his tail, and she knew the time had come to tell the truth. Sort of.

We involves Quince, Lex’s right-hand man. Quince and Lex are battling for the pride, and I agreed to draw Lex’s guys out so Quince could take him. He’ll end the threat against my family and take care of the danger to all of us.

“And you didn’t think I should know?”

Dean’s fury poured from him in a low growl and the musky scent of danger.

The cat under him stilled, not moving a muscle. Stacey could only stare, never having seen this side of Dean before.

“First of all, you weren’t even supposed to be here. I tried heading out by myself. And Quince told me not to say anything.”

Dean hissed.

She took a step back and flushed, annoyed she’d instinctively backed down. “Quince said you wouldn’t agree to the plan, that you’d involve the pride and take away the element of the surprise. We needed to keep Quince’s involvement quiet so we can lure Lex out and take care of him, once and for all.”

Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “Damn, Chastell. Go easy with the fangs next time.” Bloody gouges marred his neck and flank. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I saw you two head in here and wanted to make sure you were okay. What with Lex involving Hunt—

“Hungry predators out for blood,” Stacey interrupted. Oh wow. She hadn’t thought things would go from bad to worse. Quince had mentioned Lex had involved Hunters in pride politics. He hadn’t said anything about them being out here. If he had, she would have involved the pride, Miles and every Ac-taw in the vicinity, regardless of Quince’s warning.

She gave Jeremy a look he couldn’t miss. Dean could barely handle Quince’s involvement. If he knew Hunters were out here, he’d lose it for sure. It was all Stacey could do not to break down screaming. “We have allies watching our backs.”

And what about the pride? Who’s watching them while we’re out here?” Dean looked from Stacey to Jeremy and back again. “Don’t tell me. More of Quince’s cats, eh? I can’t believe Miles went along with this bullshit.

She glanced down and fiddled with her shirt.

Jesus. You didn’t tell him either? What’s with this Quince character?” Under him, Jeremy shifted and tried to move. “Why are you trusting him, but not your own family? Not your new pride?

She should have corrected him about Cougar Falls being her new pride, but the anger and hurt radiating from his deadly frame gave her pause.“I only did it because—”

“Because you don’t trust me to protect you. I know.” The bitter twist to his words burrowed deep. She felt an odd drop in her belly, as if she’d tumbled off a cliff. Uncomfortable and painful, because she’d hurt Dean. Really hurt him.

“That’s not it. I’m responsible for all this. Lex wants me. I should be the one to take the brunt of the danger, so the others can be safe.”

“Fuck that.” Dean snarled, and Jeremy again froze. Dean glanced down at him. “How many of you are out there?”

“Two dozen.”

“Good. Keep us in your sights but not too close. You don’t let a thing happen to her, got it?”

“Right.”

“Any sign of Lex yet?”

“His guys are about half a day south and moving closer. They’re going four-footed and keeping a low profile. The eagles you have circling have already spotted them.”

“Good.” Dean flashed his teeth.

“Eagles?” she asked.

Dean looked at her. “You didn’t think we’d just wander all over the mountain without backup? We have a few raptors and wolves around, just in case we need help,” he said, directing the warning Jeremy’s way.

“We’re here to help. I swear.”

If you’re lying, I’ll rip your throat out myself.” Dean blew out a breath. “Keep me updated. Lex moves, I want to know where he is and how long he’s been gone.

Sure. Right.” Jeremy meowed. “Can I go now?

Dean blinked down at his paw gripping Jeremy’s leg. “Yeah. Get gone.” He lifted his claws from the cat’s fur and they watched as Jeremy tore out of the cave.

Stacey didn’t know what to think. She’d never seen Dean so furious, so intimidating or so domineering. The lazy, tricky feline had turned into someone else entirely. Her cat couldn’t have been happier. The finicky beast inside her wanted her to shift, lift her tail and prepare to be mounted by the jerk glaring at her like his next meal.

A nightmare of epic proportions.

“What?” she snapped, hiding her confusion. “I did what I thought was right. I’m protecting my family, and I’m not putting any of you in harm’s way. So what if I might be in danger? Oh, wait. You’re angry because Lex now threatens your furry ass, is that it?” She was being totally unfair about it, and she knew it. But how else could she have handled all this?

Always being on alert, worried for her family and the pride, and missing the familiar day-to-day of work—the only thing that kept her grounded most of the time—wore on a girl. Not to mention her constant sexual awareness of a cat who’d never be able to give her what she needed. Hell, half the time he acted like he hated her. The other half, Dean tolerated her with leers or suggestive comments.

Good old Stacey. Good for a fuck but not much else.

Story of my friggin’ life. She glared at him, waiting for another verbal attack.

She didn’t expect him to plunk his ass down on the hard ground and meow up at her.

“Huh?”

He lifted his head and waited, motioning her near.

She took a hesitant step forward, angry at herself for acting timid in front of him. Scrounging up her nerve, she reached him and placed her hands on her hips, hoping she seemed more aggravated than nervous. “Well, Chastell? What now?”

He nudged her to pet him. She did, not knowing what else to do. The feel of his soft fur under her hand started to soothe her. She watched him enjoy her touch, and something inside her softened. Like this, she could pretend Dean liked her. The man disappeared in the feline sitting so close. Acceptance warmed her from the inside out as she knelt and rubbed behind his ears. She scratched her nails along his back in a repetitive rhythm that had him purring up a storm.

“Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re actually a very attractive cat. If you’d stay like this forever, I might consider you good enough to make a house pet. What do you think of that?” she asked with a smile, imagining Dean at her condo in Miami, lazing in the sun while she worked on her designs.

He licked her face with a little too much force and she stumbled back onto her butt. He was over her in seconds and transformed back into a man, effectively caging her between his hard, warm body and the ground. His arms were like tree trunks rooted on either side of her head, and if she wasn’t mistaken, something long and hard prodded her belly.

Загрузка...