Passions Recalled: Forbidden Passions, Book 2
Page 9
He couldn’t forget that even for a second.
He clenched his fists as frustration rocketed through him. What a fucking mess. Why did she have to be a wolf? Their world wouldn’t survive a mating between their species. It was bad enough that Jason had mated with the Alpha wolf’s human stepdaughter, but a leopard and a true wolf? It wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen.
Every shifter species could trace its existence to the blessing of a benevolent deity. For leopards, it went back to King Leonidas of Sparta. He’d become legend for his bravery in the face of an onslaught of Persian forces under the command of Xerxes. So impressed with Leonidas’s courageous death, the hunter goddess Artemis had made his sons more than men. The god Zeus, jealous of his daughter’s powerful creations, had made a wereanimal of his own. Wolves. King Lycaon of Arcadia had been the first, and his fifty sons had followed in his footsteps.
Wolves and leopards had scattered to the four corners of the globe, but their war for dominance had never abated, even centuries later. The peace between their two species was tenuous at the best of times. A kidnapped and battered wolf on leopard land wouldn’t help with that, but every instinct demanded Zander keep Lyra safe…and near.
There were no other options.
What will happen when the hunter becomes the hunted…
Tempt Not the Cat
© 2009 J.C. Wilder
A woman whose chances for love were destroyed…
After surviving a brutal kidnapping, Erihn Spencer has spent the past eighteen years living in the shadows. Scarred both physically and mentally, she spends her days writing romance novels dealing with the type of relationship she’s avoided. The night before heading into the mountains to start her new novel, a stranger approaches and shakes her world with one perfect kiss.
A man who could be her savior…
From the moment Fayne kisses her, the desire to possess this shy beauty is irresistible. Thrown together in a secluded house in the mountains, he’s torn between his need for her and the secrets that are destined to force them apart. As Erihn struggles to break free from years of self-imposed isolation, he finds he is the one who is now trapped by his desires, his dark self.
Their worlds collide and old secrets lead a bitter enemy to their door.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tempt Not the Cat:
She moved like a cat, dainty, her feet barely touching the floor.
Fayne leaned against the bar, his pint of Scottish ale forgotten. Through the wide arch leading into the coffeehouse, his gaze followed her as she wove her way through the tables filled with chatting patrons.
Her hair was long and loose, ending just below her backside. To most people, it would appear to be brown but his preternatural eyesight detected glints of red and gold in the long strands. Unbound, it obscured her profile reminding him of Cousin It from The Munsters. Okay, not exactly flattering but the resemblance was undeniable.
Dressed in a long skirt the color of dirt and an enveloping cream-colored shirt, she was as diametrically opposed to the other women in their barely-there summer dresses as chalk was to cheese. Covered from head to toe with her modest, slightly oversized clothes and long, shaggy hair, she looked as if she were trying to hide from something.
Maybe everything?
His chest tightened. He loved puzzles. Curiosity had certainly almost killed this cat a time or two, but that didn’t stop him from his favored pastime. Puzzles drove him mad and women were his favorite riddle. He reveled in their femininity, their scent and their innate sensuality. Basked in the hidden mysteries of their shapely limbs and secretive eyes. Overdosed on their voices and wrapped himself in their beauty while rejoicing in their strength.
In short, he loved women.
His eyes narrowed when the stranger stepped onto the stage. Reaching up to adjust the microphone, her slender fingers curled around the base as she raised it to the correct height. With one slim hand she pushed back her hair, allowing him a glimpse of her profile. Dark brows, a lovely cheekbone and a slightly snubbed nose, her skin was creamy pale and her mouth was lush.
He licked his lips.
The woman glanced to her left and smiled at her friends as they jostled for better viewing positions on the low-slung couch and chairs. A shy smile curved her mouth and a gentle blush swept her skin. She ducked her head as if embarrassed.
Even from here he could sense her nervousness. For some of the preternaturals, emotions could be detected by either taste or scent. With the room crowded with people, for most it would be difficult to pick up on any one person. But not him. Her scent was unique and it had already imprinted itself in his brain, becoming part of him.
Lemon.
Paper.
Flowers. Blue Lady roses to be exact.
And a healthy dose of warm feminine flesh.
Something dark stirred in him, gently nudging the leash of his willpower. The moon was waxing, and the urge to mate was growing stronger. It’d been over ten months since he’d last taken a woman, and the demands of the approaching full moon were taking a toll on his restraint.
After the debacle with the vampire Mikhail during winter solstice last year, Fayne’s pleasure-seeking life had been derailed by the unexpected inclusion of a six-year-old mortal child. He smiled at the thought of the boy he called son, Max. Few things were more important to a werecat than physical gratification and their own creature comforts, but his son was his top priority. Max came first with him.
Period.
End of story.
Even though he loved Max and would sacrifice anything for his welfare, for the next few weeks Fayne was free to do as he pleased. Max was off with his friend Bliss in South America on an archeological dig and having the time of his life.
Certain that his son was well taken care of, Fayne had other pressing matters to attend to. With only a few more days until the full moon, time was growing short and he had to act fast. He glanced at the women sitting with Shai and Jennifer.
To Shai’s right sat a stunning brunette with dark red claws. She was lovely, but there was something brittle about her. Across from her sat Melanie Reynolds, the movie actress. She wore a barely-there pink leather dress, and her breasts were in danger of escaping. Too overblown and very married—two things he avoided.
There was something to be said about subtlety. As he’d prowled through the years, Fayne realized that he appreciated the subtle woman. The one who lightly dabbed perfume on the back of her knees rather than bathing in it. She wore high-collared shirts and demure lace bras rather than crotchless panties and garter belts. A confident woman didn’t need to proclaim her femininity to everyone around her, it simply was what it was. The women most men would overlook intrigued him the most. The shy ones who didn’t command center stage and constantly play the ‘me me’ game. Women who glanced away rather than returning his gaze boldly. Of course they always looked back again, just in case they were mistaken and he hadn’t been looking at them. The subtle shyness, the faint blush of color on their cheeks when they realized it was them who held his attention. They all had their stories to tell—their darkness and their light.
He lived to ferret out their secrets.
Turning, his gaze landed on the woman standing on the stage. This beautiful little wren wasn’t so much understating her sexuality as being completely unaware of it. She’d buried her feminine curves beneath layers of ill-fitting clothing and long, heavy hair so that most men would overlook her.
But not him.
What did she look like with no clothing on? Did she prefer serviceable white cotton lingerie or was she the kind of woman who dressed like a schoolteacher on the outside while wearing miniscule thong panties?
His groin tightened.
Either worked for him as lingerie had a tendency to get torn off women’s bodies when he was around. Be it cotton or silk, the only thing he wanted to see it on was the floor.
Glancing over at Shai’s friends, he smiled. No, he’d found his mate. He smi
led as he turned his attentions back to the woman on the stage. She’d do perfectly.
It was time for the cat to prowl.