My Stray Cat

by Shelley Munro

  MY STRAY CAT

  Shelley Munro

  Middlemarch Shifters, book 9

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Excerpt – My Second Chance

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  I met a male lion shifter in the pub last night. Not that my father would approve since it reinforces my gay status, but Lucas Huntingdon is incredible. Tall. Golden. Sexy. Our gazes met and we clicked. The evening turned into night. The sex was hot. Intense. Real magic that doesn’t happen every day. Hell, it electrified me. By the time the night was over I craved more…I hungered for a future because it’s no fun living alone like a stray cat. I’m just like every Middlemarch shifter, gay or not. All I want is love.

  Note: Readers first met Saul Sinclair in My Scarlet Woman. He made an appearance in My Estranged Lover, and now he gets his own story in My Stray Cat.

  Chapter One

  “Saul, why can’t you settle like the Mitchell boys? They’ve found mates. If they can catch a woman, so can you.” My father sat at the head of the table, the flat of his hand thumping the tabletop to punctuate his words, laying down the law.

  While he was busy lecturing me, I stared at my mother. She stood by the stove, stirring a pot for our dinner, nodding the entire time. Her jaw-length blonde hair swished around her face, confirming she agreed with her life partner. My feline snarled inside my mind as ruffled as his human side. It was as if they joined at the hip, programmed by fate to make the same decisions. Hold the same opinions.

  Fine for them.

  My fingers closed around the can of beer on the table in front of me while I acknowledged I was a puzzle to my parents. A twenty-five-year-old disappointment. They couldn’t work out why I wasn’t out chasing skirt, behaving in the same way as the rest of my friends and male shifters of marriageable age.

  My father droned on, repeating more of the same. Although my mouth curled in a lazy grin, I was anything but relaxed.

  “What about the Matthews girl? I hear she’s returning from Dunedin. We’ll invite her for dinner,” my father said.

  I stiffened, my spine hitting the back of my wooden chair. Feline shifters were hardwired to find a mate. It just was, and I understood that, but no way was I going to get saddled with someone of my parents’ choosing. The old man continued with the lecture and eventually, I tuned out of his reprimand.

  The thing was, I didn’t do women. I was into men and nothing could change that fact. After soul-searching and experimentation, I’d accepted my preferences. I differed from most males, both human and shifter.

  There was no mate in my future.

  “Damn it, boy.” My father smashed his fist into the table, his face turning red with irritation. The knives and forks and condiments my mother had placed on the table jumped and danced out of place. “Didn’t you meet anyone while you were at Glenshee Station? Or while you were traveling? Are you listening?”

  I inhaled, wondering how this conversation had slithered into dangerous territory so fast. I blamed my friends Saber, Felix and Leo Mitchell for putting ideas into the old man’s head. A spate of matings had taken place in Middlemarch during the last two years, and my parents were anxious to have grandchildren.

  “Yeah, Dad. I hear you. The neighbors can probably hear you.” Giving in to the urge to come home to see my parents had been a mistake.

  “Listen to your father, son.” My mother’s voice was low and soothing as if she recognized how close we were to jumping into a shouting match, into saying things we’d regret.

  “I’m listening.” But it was a lie. I didn’t have to since I knew the lecture by heart. Somewhere out there was the woman for me—maybe another shifter, if I were lucky. We’d mate and spend the rest of our lives together.

  Be happy. No point fighting fate.

  On cue, my parents cast each other adoring looks. A snort escaped before I could censor it—a fact that didn’t escape my father. But hell, I was so tired of the constant bitching of my lack of success with women. The same old tired litany. The words, oft repeated, ground away at my self-control.

  My father drew himself up and glared from beneath bushy brows. “There’s a mate for you. All you need to do is find her.”

  “Dad!” My tone was sharp, demanding he listen. I leapt to my feet, my heart racing as my brain and mouth jumped into gear. “I’m not hooking up with a female since women don’t interest me. I’m gay.”

  For a frozen instant, we stared at each other. Shock hit us equally—my parents suffered from the announcement while I couldn’t believe I’d confessed the awful truth.

  I was gay and women didn’t do it for me.

  “That’s a good joke, Saul. Nearly had us there.” My father’s booming laugh echoed inside the steamy kitchen. My work-roughened hands curled to tight fists. He thought I was joking.

  My mother’s face was pale as she scanned my features. She didn’t laugh because something in my expression convinced her I was telling the truth. Her eyes rounded and turned glassy, as if she might cry. Her trembling hand clapped over her open mouth.

  I glanced away, unwilling to witness her shocked pain. “I’m not joking, Dad. There won’t be any mate for me because I’m gay.”

  A strained silence throbbed in the kitchen, broken only by the insistent clack of a clock. We stared at each other, the tension palpable.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.” The relationship between me and Dad had never gone smoothly. My mother always told me it was because we were alike. My mouth curled into a wry smile. Not this time.

  “You think this is funny? Get out.” My father’s words were icy cold. Fierce. This wasn’t the time to argue that being gay didn’t make me any different, that I was still his son.

  I turned away, hesitating only when I heard my mother’s sob.

  “Don’t cry, Allison. Saul isn’t worth it. He’s sick. Abnormal. He is not our son. Go,” my father snapped when he noticed I’d stopped by the head of the table. “Don’t bother coming back this time.”

  Numb, I continued walking, pausing only to grab my wallet and keys off the kitchen counter. I walked outside and climbed into my SUV, then sat motionless in the driver’s seat. Sick at heart. Disillusioned. I burrowed my hands through my unruly dark hair and cursed before shoving the keys in the ignition. My father was wrong. I was normal. I was the same as everyone else in Middlemarch.

  All I wanted was love.

  * * * * *

  Aoraki Mount Cook National Park was a thriving tourist destination. In the winter it was skiing while in the summer the mountains of the Southern Alps were the preserve of trampers along with the tourists wanting to get a closer look at New Zealand’s highest mountain peak—Aoraki, the cloud piercer.

  O’Hara’s, a bar near The Hermitage Hotel in Mount Cook village was bustling with a mixture of tourists, workers and locals. Since it was a Saturday night, the bar had employed a band and a male singer belted out a rock classic. Several couples danced, bodies writhing in time to the beat of the music in the dim lit room.

  I leaned against the bar and observed the customers while sipping my beer. I’d been in the village for two months, working for a company that offered guided walks around the Mount Cook region. The seasonal job suited my love of the outdoors. I enjoyed the mountain air and shifting and running in relative privacy, possible because of the sparseness of the population. I’d be sorry once the job ended in a few weeks. Mount Cook was a shifter’s paradise. People surrounded me, yet loneliness sat like a weight on my s
houlders.

  A woman pushed into a gap at the bar between me and another woman. The new arrival was gorgeous, tall and slender but not too skinny. When she pressed closer, I tensed at her wild scent.

  Shifter. The woman was a shifter.

  I inhaled her scent with something akin to pleasure because I hadn’t seen another shifter since I’d left Middlemarch.

  She wasn’t black leopard. Not that it mattered because I was so desperate for communication with a like being. Shifters weren’t meant to live alone.

  And this solitary life didn’t suit me.

  My gaze wandered across the smooth, tanned skin of her face. She was lovely. I could appreciate her stunning tawny beauty even though I preferred males.

  “What are you staring at?” she demanded, catching me off guard. Her brown eyes flashed, and she tossed a luxurious mane of blonde curls over her shoulder. Irritation underlined the move but instead of making me back off, she made me grin.

  “You,” I drawled. “I’m staring at you.” I’m not sure where the urge to tease her came from, but since her attention centered on me, I ran with the impulse.

  “Don’t bother, pretty boy. You’re wasting your time blinking your cute green eyes and flashing your dimples at me. I’m not interested.” South Africa colored her voice, the accent strong and brash.

  My grin widened to toothy. “Most girls wait until they’re asked before assuming. But as it happens, I’m not looking for a woman.” I paused, my gaze running across her tawny complexion, her full bottom lip and dipping to peruse her breasts. My gaze lifted again to caress her face. “Now if you had a brother, I might be interested.”

  Hell, my tongue had turned rebellious. Honesty poured from me in a wave. We gaped at each other, my words hanging between us. I figured even though I spoke the truth, she’d assume I was joking. But instead of laughing, the color bleached from her face, leaving her deathly pale.

  I straightened with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m meeting someone. Wrong bar.” She backed away, colliding with a solid male, a breath of air releasing from her with a soft oomph. She whirled, gasped and grabbed the forearm of the man she’d crashed into. “Wrong bar. Let’s go.” She tried to pull him from the bar but he stood his ground. His blond brows rose while a tiny smile played across his sensual lips.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “No,” the woman snapped without looking at me. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ve just arrived.” He held out his hand and smiled at me. Slow and languid, the sexy up-tilt of his lips played hell with my libido. My heart hammered against my ribs as I placed my hand in his. His fingers tightened around mine. Our gazes caught and held, and it wasn’t in the normal, casual way of two males meeting.

  It was more. Much more. Direct. A moment of pure honesty, and suddenly I knew why the woman appeared worried.

  “I’m Lucas Huntingdon,” he said. “This is my sister Leticia.”

  Sister.

  I tightened my grip on Lucas’s hand. Just a fraction to let him know I returned his interest before releasing it. “Saul Sinclair.”

  “Can I buy you a drink, Saul?” Lucas’s brown eyes held glints of gold. His blond hair surrounded his head in a halo, a mass of golden curls. I picked up the same hint of shifter on the air and everything clicked into place. South Africa and shifter.

  Lion.

  Intrigued, I continued to stare. My cock reared against the fly of my jeans, my libido shooting into high gear. Other than one-night stands, I had met no one who interested me for months. There had been Nick, my roommate while I’d attended Otago University for my Bachelor of Science in Dunedin, but we’d parted ways when he’d decided he wanted marriage and children. Traditional. He’d broken my heart, and I hadn’t wanted anyone for a long time. After that, I’d had short-term relationships since it was difficult to find prospective partners while living in Middlemarch. Not that I’d met many during my absences from Middlemarch.

  I snorted. Hell, I could be honest with myself. One-night stands were as good as it came. I studied Lucas’s handsome face, full of acute anticipation. This was a first. I’d never met a gay shifter, let alone made love to one. Lucas made me think of hot and heavy sex. He made me think of more than one night. His obvious magnetism and golden good looks brought a tempting vision of a future. My future. Maybe our future, even though it was early for those thoughts, I could hope. I wiped my palms on my denim-covered thighs and aimed for calm. Desperate and needy might turn him off, especially when he mightn’t harbor the same thoughts.

  “Thanks. I’ll have a Speights Dark.” Not bad. I’d sounded casual and calm. Our gazes met again. Suddenly my night was brighter, more interesting and full of possibilities.

  Lucas ordered the same for himself and a glass of Chardonnay for his sister. “Why don’t you find us a table? Leticia, go with Saul. I’ll bring the drinks over.”

  Leticia glanced at me before turning back to glare at her brother. “But—”

  “Leticia, I’m not a child. I know what I’m doing,” Lucas said. “Go.” He made a shooing motion with his hands and winked at me.

  Right. Okay. My heart pounded a fraction harder. Inhaling, I turned away, trying to control my powerful reaction to the shifter male. He was a few inches taller than me, but we had similar builds—well-built and muscular without being bulky, according to my feminine coworkers.

  “There’s a table over by the wall.” I sensed Leticia followed me, heard her rapid breathing, giving away her distress and agitation.

  I reached the table and turned, waiting for Leticia to seat herself before I claimed a chair for myself. My mother hadn’t raised a savage. I froze when I saw the tears in her expressive brown eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  “Please don’t do this. Please just go before Lucas comes with the drinks. We don’t need this. We’ve gone through so much.” She let out an inelegant hiccup and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please.”

  Her plea tugged at my heartstrings but not enough to walk away from the intriguing man whom I suspected was attracted to me as much as I was enticed by him.

  We stared at each other, neither willing to yield.

  “Stop trying to scare him away, Letty.” Lucas’s dark and husky voice dragged a crop of goose bumps across my arms and legs. My jeans and shirt abraded my skin, tugging over sensitive nerve endings and making me squirm. Hot damn. This man was potent and I wanted him. I prayed I hadn’t misread the signs. I didn’t think so, but there was always a chance.

  “But, Lucas, we don’t need him.” Her voice trembled with pleading. Tears flooded her eyes again, lending them a liquid brilliance that heightened her vulnerable appearance.

  Her obvious distress made me curious. I wondered what the deal was with brother and sister. They were lions, a species that stuck together in large prides.

  “We could go home,” she whispered.

  Lucas set the drinks on the table and turned to his sister. “I’m sorry, Letty. It’s too late for us to go back. Too late,” he repeated.

  Unspoken words ricocheted between them. Leticia looked away first, nervous fingers fumbling for her glass of wine. Lucas walked around the table and sat in the seat opposite me.

  Uncomfortable with the unspoken nuances, I stared at brother and sister, scanning their faces and the flicker of emotions—tension, anxiety, anguish and defeat. Uneasily, I wondered if I should leave and half stood before Lucas placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back into the chair.

  “Stay. Your leaving won’t help our situation.”

  Curiosity nipped harder. Unfortunately, politeness bade me to ignore the siblings’ squabble and steer the conversation into peaceful waters. My mother’s influence yet again. “Are you touring New Zealand?”

  The tears spilled over into sobs. Damn, wrong question.

  “We’re trying to decide whether to settle in Australia or New Zealand,” Lucas said. He frowned at his sis
ter, reminding me of the way the Mitchell brothers looked at each other during a family spat. Being an only child, I’d never experienced the emotions and frustrations that came with siblings. Right now, faced with tears, I was heartily glad of the fact.

  “Have you spent time in Australia already?” I figured I’d pretend she wasn’t crying and the tears might magically disappear.

  “We spent a month in Perth. We have relations there.” Lucas’s words emerged clipped, a little harsh. It was obvious the visit hadn’t been a success.

  “I come from Middlemarch. It’s a country town, an hour from Dunedin.”

  “But you’re here,” Lucas said.

  “Yes.” It was my turn for discomfort. The Mitchell family hadn’t cared about my sexual orientation. Leo had whooped when I’d told him and said his younger brothers could do without the competition. Evidently my handsome face attracted lustful glances from the ladies. I grunted out loud, just remembering. He could talk since he was the pretty one. Emily had contacted my mother and arranged to pack my clothes and personal possessions for me. They were storing the gear I didn’t need until I settled again. I owed the Mitchell family big time.

  A soft chuckle dragged my attention back to the present. Dark eyes twinkled with amusement. My heart stuttered before flowing back into a steady beat. I wanted this man. Badly.

  He leaned closer. “You’re the first shifter we’ve met over here.” His words were low to avoid any eavesdropping, but I doubted anyone would hear over the music.

  “Not that many around. Should I worry about you being a different strain?” A shifter couldn’t be too careful when approaching another feline species.

  He caught and held my gaze, his lazy humor dropping away. “Not when I’m hoping to be their lover.”

  Honesty. God, I loved it. I swallowed to rid myself of the sudden lump in my throat. “Good.” I glanced at Leticia. Her tears had stopped, but she worried her bottom lip while she listened to our conversation. She didn’t seem too surprised. More resigned. I wondered at the history behind their decision to move from South Africa before telling myself it was none of my business. I hated discussing my personal circumstances so I could hardly demand details from them.