Tiger's Claim

by Celia Kyle

  The jaguar purred at that thought, already imagining the human woman’s blood dripping from her claws. No. Bad kitty. We have to help Cole.

  “I was surprised to see you with Cole.” Olivia’s voice remained low, but she was still able to hear the words.

  Stella opened one eye and quirked a brow. “Oh?”

  Olivia shrugged. “You don’t seem like the type of woman the Turners prefer.”

  “Really? Do tell. What makes me so different?” Stella bit her tongue and swallowed the rest of her words, though she did let them dance through her mind. And so unlike you, Miss Fornicatress of Babylon?

  Stella wasn’t a big fan of the word “whore.”

  A waiter strolled past, and Olivia lifted a glass of champagne from his tray. If only the glasses were filled with whiskey…

  Olivia toyed with her glass, one finger tracing the rim in a slow glide. The human woman’s eyes remained on Cole as if she attempted to seduce him with the subtle movement.

  Stella thought Olivia would have been better off deep throating a hot dog to get his attention. Cole didn’t seem like a “subtle” kind of guy.

  It was fun to watch the woman make a fool of herself though.

  “You know.” Olivia turned her gaze to Stella, smirk in place and her eyelashes fluttering. “Our set focuses on making connections, forming bonds, that sort of thing. You are simply”—her gaze scraped over her from head to toe—“different.”

  “Olivia,” Charlotte murmured in warning.

  “Hush,” Olivia snapped at the blonde before returning her attention to Stella. “I’m simply saying you have no ties to the corporate world. You aren’t involved with the movers and shakers.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You two don’t exactly share a common background.”

  But we share a bed, don’t we? As for bonds…Stella wasn’t opposed to bondage.

  Again Stella kept her mouth shut. Her jaguar snarled at her, the beast furious when she didn’t defend her claim on Cole. It didn’t give a damn about James Walters, the mission, or keeping a low profile. It was focused on the bitch who wanted what belonged to them—Cole.

  “What do you bring to the table?” Olivia tipped her head to the side.

  Stella was glad she hadn’t bothered snaring a drink. She clenched her fists so hard she would have snapped the stem of a glass in half without a thought.

  Then she’d stab Olivia in the eye with the broken end.

  Her jaguar purred. It liked that idea.

  Stella sighed and shook her head. There was that bloodthirsty attitude again.

  “See, Charlotte? What did I say?” Olivia clucked her tongue. “It’s not what she brings to the table, but what she brings to the bed.”

  Stella rolled her shoulders and tipped her head side to side. Her cat prowled just beneath the thin surface of her skin. It bared its fangs, long teeth more than ready to tear into Olivia’s flesh. She’d show the human woman trash.

  Her fingertips burned, the cat’s nails pressing against her thinner human ones, fighting to be free. Her bones ached as well, the feline battling to come out and face off against Olivia.

  Stella was ready to do some disposing of her own.

  “Olivia, stop,” Charlotte hissed. “She’s a guest.”

  Oliva snorted. “Cole Turner is a guest. This one”—she used a finger to gesture at Stella—“is something else.”

  Cole had ordered her to be good. No drawing attention to herself. Especially not after the drama in the restricted area. Just play well with others for an afternoon.

  One. After. Noon.

  It’d sounded so easy when he’d grumbled and growled at her. But real life was hard. And not in a fun “hard-on” way.

  “Jealous, sweetheart?” Stella smirked and shook her head. “It’s not a good look for you.” She reached out and tapped the area between Olivia’s eyebrows. “It’ll give you wrinkles.” She gasped and covered her mouth while widening her eyes. “Oh no, it’s too late.”

  Olivia leaned close and hissed, “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

  Stella eased forward as well, meeting the human’s fury with a wide smile. “A daddy’s girl with an Oedipus complex?” She turned her attention to Cole and tipped her head. Cole and Walters stood together on the opposite side of the deck, the two men schmoozing. “Cole doesn’t look like your papa, though. Is it just the money with him? Get married, give Cole a kid or two, and give your father’s charity a few hundred million.”

  Okay, based on the fury that filled Olivia’s eyes, Stella might have gone a step too far. Perhaps a dozen steps too far. It was obvious Stella had difficulty following directions. Cole’s order of “play nice” had somehow turned into “antagonize the bitch until Olivia tried to throw Stella overboard.”

  Not that Olivia had tried. Yet. But the way the woman formed a tight, white-knuckled fist with her hand, Stella figured it was only a matter of time.

  Charlotte moved closer, wrapped her arms around one of Olivia’s, and tugged. The blonde held Olivia back when she would have launched herself at Stella.

  “Olivia, calm down,” Charlotte pleaded. “Your father—”

  “Wouldn’t want anyone around who would dare insult me,” Olivia hissed back.

  Her jaguar purred, loving the way Olivia’s face burned bright red. Pure fury was etched into every line of the human woman’s body. It was only a matter of time before she popped and went after Stella. That might be fun for a few minutes. At least until Stella threw Olivia overboard or knocked her out. Either sounded fun.

  Sadly…

  “Ladies, good afternoon.” A familiar, thick arm slid around Stella’s waist, his large hand settling on her opposite hip while he pulled her to his side. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and then rubbed his lips over her skin as he breathed deep.

  Stella suppressed a shudder, memories of his hands and mouth all over her body sparking her arousal. Playing at a relationship didn’t diminish the passion they’d shared last evening. If anything, the short-term aspect of their involvement made it even better—hotter.

  “Are you enjoying yourselves?” Cole’s deep baritone slid through her, his voice vibrating against her nerves and stoking her growing need. The man was sex on two legs and he knew it.

  Stella tipped her head back and grinned at him, pulling her lips wide until she was sure he could see the sharp points of her fangs. “Of course, sweet. I was just getting to know Olivia and Charlotte. They’re both just the nicest people I’ve ever met. They’re making me feel right at home.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cole chuckled and flashed a smirk at Stella. One of her fangs lengthened slightly as he stood there, staring into her green eyes. A flow of her jaguar’s yellow teased the edges of her irises, but the hue vanished as quickly as it’d come. If he hadn’t scented her annoyance, that little display would have told him she was not a happy kitten.

  His tiger flicked its tail and padded forward, torn between wanting to kill whoever upset her and the desire to antagonize the angry she-cat. Like his human half, his inner tiger enjoyed angering a female…and the makeup sex that came after.

  Makeup sex with Stella? His cock twitched and hardened. At the same moment, he caught the scent of another’s arousal. Or rather, more than one person’s. Stella’s drew his beast forward with her delicate, musky aroma. She was wet, wanting, and Cole’s tiger wanted him to sate her desire. As for the other…Olivia.

  Cole swallowed hard and fought not to heave all over the deck. He also suppressed his animal, the tiger surging to scare away the other woman who desired him. The cat didn’t want anyone but Stella, and it ached to make that known.

  He warned the cat to back off. It was getting a little too attached to the jaguar. This was an op, and—no matter how sexy—Stella was an asset.

  The tiger tried to tell him that she was a partner.

  He shoved the cat back. “Partner” had a sound of permanence that he
refused to acknowledge. His cat’s definition of “partner” felt a lot like “mate.” Just because he’d enjoyed what they’d shared didn’t mean he had “keeping her” kinds of thoughts. That was crazy.

  Cole was occasionally unhinged with a penchant for blowing things up, but he wasn’t crazy. He had a report from a psychiatrist. There were a shit-ton of diagnoses, but none of ’em said “crazy.”

  “That is wonderful, sweet,” he murmured. “I’m so glad you’re having fun.” He lowered his head and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. His cat wanted to get a full-on nuzzlefest going so she’d wear his scent, but now wasn’t the time to act like a feline. “And staying out of trouble.”

  She poked out her lower lip, pouting for their audience’s sake. He nipped her lower lip and then stole a kiss, caressing her mouth with his. Her sweetness teased his nose, and he wished they had some privacy. Privacy so he could show her that this growing thing between them was more than a job.

  Stella spoke as soon as he retreated. “I never get into trouble.”

  “Uh-huh.” He winked, still playing the part of indulgent lover. This cooing crap wasn’t for him. Not in public anyway. If they were alone, a locked door between them and danger, he’d nuzzle her neck and give her those gentle kisses.

  Cole spoke to the other two women, eyes still on Stella. “Olivia, Charlotte, you both look beautiful this afternoon.” He turned his charm on the ladies, focusing on Olivia. “The sun and fresh air suit you.”

  Olivia tittered, the sound high pitched and piercing. “I think it’s the company.”

  Her eyes remained focused on him, and a gust of wind brought him the stomach-churning aroma of her desire. Once more he was glad he hadn’t eaten a big lunch. “You flatter me.” He made sure he flashed a dimple. “Or are you teasing and there’s another gentleman that’s caught your eye?”

  “Hmm…” She tried to mimic Stella’s pout, but it didn’t work. She looked more like a fish than a seductress. “If you can’t tell, I must be doing something wrong.”

  Tension radiated through Stella’s body, but he pretended not to notice. Instead, he remained focused on the human woman. He’d smoothed over yesterday’s events with Walters, but he wanted to get closer to the man. If that required being friendlier with the daughter…so be it.

  He noted the tension between Olivia and Stella. Jealousy bounced between the ladies, and “stealing” him would be a nice feather in Olivia’s hat.

  “Sweet.” He lowered his gaze to the she-cat in his embrace. Tension vibrated through her, but there was now outward indication of her growing anger. Damn, jealousy looked good on her. “Didn’t you say you had a bit of a headache? James mentioned there’s a nice, quiet sitting room just beyond that door.” He gestured to the left. “Why don’t you rest for a few moments?”

  “I’m happy to keep you company while your”—Olivia’s emotions burned his nose, a combination of hate, jealousy, and desperation for violence warring with one another—“girlfriend,” she said, practically spitting the word, “takes some time for herself.”

  “Perfect.” He smiled wide and gave Stella a quick kiss. “Run along, sweet.”

  Cole released her and gave her ass a nice little pat as she walked by. She shot him a glare over her shoulder, and he knew he’d pay for that later.

  The moment Stella disappeared, he had a human female invading his space, a thin arm wrapping around his while her overwhelming perfume filled his nose.

  “I know Father had that dinner last night, but he’s always so stuffy.” Olivia fluttered her lashes. “Let me introduce you to some of our greatest supporters. We’re a tight-knit group, you know. Contacts are—”

  “Olivia,” Charlotte hissed, reminding him they weren’t alone.

  “Oh, hush.” Olivia waved her friend off and rolled her eyes. “Cole isn’t some upstart with new money. He knows how the games are played.” She turned her simpering gaze on him. “Don’t you? There’s a little back-scratching between friends and associates with similar viewpoints.” Olivia turned back to the blonde. “It’s not a new concept. This”—she waved her hand to encompass the group—“is simply a way to make new friends who have complementary interests.”

  “Exactly.” Cole rested his hand atop Olivia’s. “And I’m thankful for the introduction to these fine men”—he let a little heat enter his gaze, pretending he stared down at Stella instead of the human woman—“and beautiful ladies.”

  “Olivia, Mr. Turner hasn’t—”

  “It’s fine,” Olivia snapped. “My father has looked into the background of everyone present. Cole wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t loyal to the cause.”

  Charlotte wasn’t giving up. “My father—”

  Olivia pulled out of his grip and stalked to her friend. She lowered her voice, but Cole still managed to catch her words. Thank goodness for shifter hearing. “Needs money. Cole has it. He has more than anyone here.”

  Cole snatched a drink from a passing waiter and brought it to his lips. He spoke to Grant. “Take a hard look at King for brains of the op.”

  “Been on it, but it’s not easy finding intel.”

  He snorted. “For you?” There wasn’t anywhere Grant couldn’t hack. “Slacking, puppy?”

  Grant just grunted and fell silent, no witty retort. “I said I’ve been on it.”

  Cole kept an eye on the arguing ladies and slowly moved to lean against the railing. “Did someone forget to feed you?”

  “Fuck off.”

  All right, then. He ignored the wolf’s bad attitude. “Report what you find.”

  Then he returned his attention to the two women, the whisper fight continuing.

  “…security staff said she—”

  The words “security staff” and “she” were words Cole didn’t want to hear together. Since, as far as he knew, there was only one woman who’d tangled with Walters’s security—Stella.

  “Ladies? Perhaps I should go find Stella and leave you two—”

  Olivia whirled, one of those feigned smiles politicians had perfected now firmly in place. “Of course you shouldn’t.” She stepped close, placing one hand on the railing and the other on his chest. He nearly gagged, hating the fact that her scent now coated his clothing. “Charlotte and I can finish our conversation at another time.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I am.” Once more Olivia’s arm slipped around his. She led him away from the railing, and they both disposed of their glasses on a nearby tray. “Let me introduce you to Trevor Stedham. He’s the president of Signet Coms and works closely with my father in developing field communications when outfitting soldiers.”

  “For the military or…?” He let the sentence trail off, telling her without words who he referred to.

  “Both, though we know who gets the best.” She flashed him a grin and winked. “Let’s speak with Trevor and see what his group has been up to lately.” Olivia led him onward to the other side of the yacht. “Oh, Trevor, darling.”

  An older man turned to face them, excusing himself from a conversation with his own woman. “Olivia, how are you? Your father sure knows how to treat us, doesn’t he?”

  “Always, Trevor.” She stepped forward and kissed the man’s cheek before returning to Cole. “He always takes care of his friends. Old”—Olivia glanced at him, the smile that attempted to be sexy but failed directed at him—“and new.”

  “New, eh?” Trevor accepted a glass of scotch from an attendant.

  Walters really wanted them drunk, which Cole could understand. A drunk man was more likely to empty his pockets.

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  It’d been a long time since Cole had been called “boy.” “Cole Turner.”

  “Of the Turner Group,” Olivia cut in. The woman was more excited about his connections than Cole himself.

  “Ahhh…” Trevor nodded. “Good work, those Turners.”

  “I told him the Turner Group could be better if they worked with Sig
net Coms. What do you think, Trevor?” Olivia squeezed his arm. “Since he’s practically one of the family now.”

  “Practically?” The older human man quirked a brow. “So, you talked things over with your father and King, then? Because I don’t recall being included in any conversations.”

  Cole decided he’d add Stedham to the list of likely suspects as well.

  She rolled her eyes. “Not you, too.” She sighed. “The organization is going to fail if they continue to move at such a slow pace. The infection isn’t going to slow just because the men in charge drag their—”

  She paused and cleared her throat just before she cursed. The woman could make a sailor blush and now she censored herself? Because of Trevor in particular, or was it simply a rule among the men running the show?

  “The longer we go without, the stronger they become.” Olivia squeezed his arm. “I’m simply showing Cole the benefits he’ll receive by joining our little group.”

  Trevor clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re still the same headstrong little girl.”

  Olivia smoothed her dress, hand tracing the curved lines of her body. If she wasn’t a shifter-hating piece of shit, he’d think she was hot. “Not so little anymore.”

  “No.” The human man’s gaze heated as he caressed the woman’s body with his gaze. Stedham was old enough to be her father. “Not so little, but you’re still overstepping, like you always have.”

  Trevor tipped his head toward him. “It was good meeting you, Cole. I hope that after you make up your mind and there’s been some discussion among the others, we can work together.”

  “I do as well.”

  “Olivia, I’ll find your father later and we can talk about this.” Trevor’s expression said that the talk wouldn’t be a good one.

  Olivia’s face flushed pink, and the stink of her anger—burning wood—drifted over him. She didn’t like being put in her place.

  “Of course,” Olivia murmured, her smile turning hard and brittle. “Enjoy the rest of the cruise.”

  When Olivia moved, Cole allowed himself to be drawn over to the next grouping and then the next. No more business offers were made. Only bland conversation was exchanged, with the occasional subtle question about his feelings toward them.