by Cait Miller
His thoughts were interrupted by Megan’s sigh as she gave in to her curiosity. “So, Jack, are you here on business or holiday?” She closed her eyes and laughed. “I cannot believe I actually just asked that.”
“At least you didn’t say business or pleasure,” he answered with a smile. “Actually, I’m here on…family business, but I’m sure I’ll find the pleasure too.” He let his eyes caress her body suggestively, grinning at the color that flooded her face. “What about you? Not working today?”
“Nope. I’m on holiday now too, for a couple of weeks.”
“Then you could show me all there is to see in the area, huh?” He read the hesitation in her expression. “Please, spend the day with me.” What harm could it do? he whispered into her mind. “We can do anything you’d like.”
“I’ll think about it,” she conceded, and gave her attention back to her book. Resigned, Jack lay back on the towel to enjoy the sunshine. He would have to take some kind of action soon, but he was reluctant to force things too quickly. He had a feeling this was going to be difficult enough. Megan did not seem the type to just give in to anyone’s demands.
After a while spent in companionable silence Jack began to shift uneasily. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he glanced at Megan to find her eyes were still on her book. Someone was watching them. He sat up and looked around—there was no one visible, but he could feel eyes on him. It was probably nothing, someone hoping for a cheap thrill, but it made him uncomfortable. While he scanned the little bit of the beach he could see, the feeling passed and he guessed that whoever it was had found something more interesting to watch. He looked at Megan and saw she too was examining the shoreline uncertainly.
Abruptly she looked at him and announced, “All right,” even as he heard her mind protesting. This is a really bad idea, Megan. He could be a serial killer.
He stifled the laughter that tried to escape and smiled at her instead. “Thank you. I promise I will take good care of you.”
Megan looked uncertainly at his amused face. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” she grumbled under her breath. Either that or I will lose what’s left of my mind and take care of you instead. The man was a stranger, going with him was no doubt dangerous. She certainly was not the most trusting of people but oddly enough she just wasn’t afraid of Jack, and the more time she spent around him the more she wanted him.
At a loss as to what to do with him now that she had agreed, she suggested the first thing that came into her head. “Why don’t we go to The Cliffs for lunch then decide what we want to do?” Almost at once she wished the words back. The Cliffs bar and restaurant was a place she ate at occasionally because it had a wonderful view and an excellent lunchtime special. It was also four miles outside of town, which meant she’d have to be alone in a car with this stranger. Stupid, Megan. Even as she tried to think of a way to get out of it, he was holding out a hand to help her up.
“Sounds good,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
Yes it does. That’s the problem.
* * * * *
They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around various car boot sales after Jack discovered Megan’s fondness of it. She had laughed at his dumbfounded expression at the term and patiently explained that they were like “an open-air market crossed with a rummage sale”.
The day passed quickly and as he got to know her, Jack realized he could not have made a better choice to be his mate. She was open and friendly and shared his dry sense of humor. It had been a very long time since he had enjoyed a woman’s company as much.
Their conversation didn’t tell him much more about her life than he already knew, though he found himself wishing he had waited to hear the details from her own lips instead of reading them in a report. She was an only child whose parents died when she was eighteen, leaving just enough to clear up bills and leave a small nest-egg—for a drought she said, since this was Scotland and rainy days were common. The rest of her family was scattered all over the world and she really was not close to any of them.
They took their time over dinner and coffee. Jack was bemused by the fact that he couldn’t even remember afterwards just what they had eaten.
Despite his preoccupation with Megan, he had gotten that same feeling that he was being watched on several occasions throughout the day. He never actually saw anyone, though, so he concluded that Megan’s presence was making him paranoid. He knew that there could be other shapeshifters out looking for a mate. It would be the ultimate irony if, now that he had found a woman he believed he could spend the rest of his life with, someone else were to come and steal her away. Another blot on the landscape of his sunny day was that, in the back of his mind, he was constantly aware that he might change.
Megan glanced covertly at the man sitting in the passenger seat gazing at the sun setting over the sea as they approached the Bay. She was glad she had followed her instincts and agreed to go with him, and wasn’t ready to see the day end.
Megan parked the car in front of her building and turned to face him. “Would you like to come back to my flat for a drink?”
Jack smiled slowly at her. “Sure, I’d love to.”
Well, that’s fairly promising. Her heart beat a little harder as she considered the possibilities. Oh yeah, there is no way he is going back to the hotel tonight. She was astonished at her own brazenness, this just wasn’t like her. True, he was sex on legs but she had known the man less than a day and she wanted to throw him on the ground and ravish him. If the looks he had been sending her all day meant anything, he felt the same way.
They climbed out of the vehicle and she looked at Jack again in the fading light. “Are you allergic to something?”
“What?”
She nodded at his hands. “You’ve been scratching them for the last few minutes.”
His gaze flew to his hands and she watched as what looked disconcertingly like panic traced over his features. “Uh, no. Megan… I have to go…” Even as he spoke he was backing away.
“But, I thought you were coming up for a drink?” She frowned at him, puzzled.
“I know, but I can’t… I just remembered something I have to do.”
“Jack…”
“Thanks for today. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Before she could get another word out he walked swiftly around the corner and Megan was left standing alone in front of her door, anger gradually overtaking bewilderment.
Well, that’s just great! There is only one thing to do when you are this pissed off at a man. Ice cream, followed swiftly by chocolate and vast quantities of apricot brandy. After all that, she’d be too sick to think about how angry she was at Jack Douglass. Turning on one heel she marched purposefully in the direction of the twenty-four hour minimarket nearby.
By the time Megan had made her purchases her temper had simmered down a bit. Maybe she had misread his signals. Yeah, right. As her mind replayed the events of the day it occurred to her that she had talked a lot about herself while learning very little about him. She knew that he belonged to a close-knit family and that he had one younger brother. He mentioned that he was here on family business for himself and his parents, but he had hinted that he had his own fairly successful company. He was a strange one, all right, but that didn’t seem to matter to her hormones. At least nothing weird had happened—well, until now that is… Maybe he has performance issues… The thought made her snort in disbelief.
She had just stepped off the kerb onto the deserted road when the sudden roaring of an engine and the screech of wheels made her heart slam into her throat. Her feet seemed to be glued to the concrete as she squinted against powerful headlights that were all too close and getting closer. Before she had time to draw breath to scream, something slammed into her, pushing her out of the path of the oncoming car. A glimpse of black was all she caught as she made solid contact with the pavement and the car sped past in a blur of white paint and red taillights.
Me
gan lay stunned on the concrete, her heart was racing and breath coming in whimpers which quickly turned into soft groans as various body parts began to ache in protest. Only two facts were able to penetrate her adrenaline-soaked brain while she pushed herself into a sitting position. Someone had nearly run her down. Someone had saved her life. “GOD DAMMIT! Where did you get your license!” she yelled belatedly at the empty street. Tremors racked her body as she checked her injuries—a skinned elbow, a bump on her head and a bruised backside. Her white dress would never be the same again. Lucky, compared to the alternative.
Slowly she picked herself up off the ground. Spotting the plastic bag containing her emergency rations, she limped over to investigate their condition. It was a measure of her emotional state that the sight of the intact bottle of apricot brandy and tub of ice cream started her sobbing.
By the time she reached her flat she had pulled herself together, more or less, although it had been a relief to see no light shining under Mrs. Timms’ door. Her face felt hot and her head ached from the crying jag. She was dirty, her hair was probably standing on end and she’d discovered more sore muscles than she knew she had as she climbed the stairs.
To add to her problems she was horny. Damn him for running off like that! I need a drink, a really, really big one, she sniffed. She considered and dismissed the idea of calling the police. There would be absolutely nothing they could do since she hadn’t seen much and there had been no one else around. It had probably been stupid young boys joyriding, and they would be long gone by now. Besides, she did not think she could face any more trauma tonight.
She made her way through the living room to the kitchen, stopping on the way to pull off her sandals and open the window to let some air in. After she poured her drink she took it and the tub of ice cream and a spoon back to the living room. Intent on fighting with the lid on the tub, she was in the middle of the room by the time she raised her head. Her triumphant expression froze as she came face to face with an enormous black panther.
Chapter Three
Megan noisily sucked in air for a scream that froze in her lungs. The cat stood in front of the open fire escape window, tail twitching, eyes focused intently on her face. Cursing inwardly at the stupidity of leaving the window open even a little bit, she made a mental note to never do it again…if she lived.
The sheer size of the body under that sleek black coat was breathtaking, not to mention the power evident in those muscles. Megan whimpered as she caught sight of the sharp claws just visible on its feet. “Holy crap, someone up there has a really sick sense of humor. When I said I should get a cat, this is not what I meant!” she whispered. The cat snorted and her heart lodged in her throat.
Slowly she raised her glass to her lips, ice rattling as her hand shook, and downed the drink before setting everything on the edge of the table between her and the animal. Cautiously she began to edge towards the hallway door, stopping abruptly when a low rumbling growl filled the room and the cat narrowed its eyes at her. “Okay Meg, stay calm, who do you call when you have a panther in your living room? RSPCA? Cats Protection League?” A hysterical giggle slipped past her lips before she could prevent it.
Without taking her eyes off of the cat, she reached out to the table again in search of the phone, but as her hand made contact with the receiver the cat growled again. Megan snatched her hand back, “Okay…nice kitty… No phone calls, huh?” Her voice quavered, rising with her panic. The cat’s ears swiveled towards her and it fell silent again. She eyed the beast warily as it sat down, displaying some impressive equipment. Okaaay, so you’re definitely a boy cat. “So, what do we do now?” The cat tilted his head at her as she talked. “We can’t just stay here all night, besides, I really need to sit down. I had a little mishap a while ago and I’m a bit s-s-s…” Her mindless chatter stuttered to a halt as the panther got to his feet and prowled around the table towards her. Closing her eyes she stood motionless as he brushed past her, not daring to even move her head to see where he was going. Suddenly something bumped into her butt and she let out a startled shriek. She spun around, hands raised to ward off an attack, only to feel that same bump on her hip this time. Cracking one eye open, she peered down to see the cat nudging her with the top of his head. Incredibly, she realized she was being urged towards the couch.
Jack pushed Megan again. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this but after that car had nearly hit her he really needed to be with her, make sure she was all right. The cat’s instincts also said he had to be with his mate, to protect her. The need had overrun his caution and before he knew it he had been standing in her living room. Now he had to do something to calm her down, because she was clearly terrified. Talking to her mentally might just shove her over the edge—she had been through too much already tonight. No, he thought, it was better to let her get used to the cat before he revealed he was also telepathic…and a shapeshifter.
He watched as she inched down onto the couch, then he sat on the carpet in front of her so that their eyes were level. Her hands were clenched together in her lap and the knuckles turned white as he slowly bent his head towards them. He ran his rough tongue over her fingers, tasting the salt of her earlier tears, then nudged her hands with his nose. Megan gasped, “You want me to touch you?” He glanced at her face and laid his head in her lap as she gingerly unclasped her hands and touched his head. Gradually she grew bolder and she began to explore his soft fur and the sensitive skin beneath it. When her fingers found the sweet spot behind his ear and scratched, he could not contain a groan of pleasure. The fingers froze but when he continued to rest his head passively on her thighs, enjoying the sweet scent of her body, she carried on with her investigation.
Megan smiled wonderingly. He’s so soft. God, I never imagined I’d ever get a chance to experience something like this.
Jack unashamedly eavesdropped, catching her thought as she ran her hands over his shoulders. The purring startled them both, it was an unconscious reaction and he made no attempt to stop it. Megan laughed delightedly, earlier fear all but forgotten.
“You like that, huh? Where did you come from? You’re so tame, someone must be looking for you.” There must be someone I can contact to see where you escaped from. Deliberately Jack projected a picture of pacing in a dirty, too-small cage. Tomorrow is soon enough, Megan told herself.
She ran her hands along his spine, brushing the fur the wrong way and smoothing it back, causing his skin to twitch at the strange feeling. Black as midnight… Black… Her hands paused again and he lifted his head as he anticipated the conclusion of her thoughts. “Was that you?” she whispered. “No way, now I’m being crazy.” He met her gaze and saw the knowledge in her eyes.
“Okay, I’ve had enough, I’m going to bed.” She stood up with a groan, picked up her tub of ice cream, and gestured to the window, “I don’t know where you came from but it would certainly be easier if you’d go back there.”
It probably would be wiser if he left, but he found himself walking to the hall doorway instead. Megan followed him, stopping on her way to toss the half-melted dessert into the freezer. “You can’t stay here, what would I tell the neighbors!?” He ignored her and continued into the bedroom. “I can’t afford to feed you!” He sat at the foot of her bed and waited. “All right, dammit, but I am calling someone in the morning!” She marched into the bathroom, closing the door firmly. A few minutes later he heard the shower start up.
Megan moaned in pleasure as the hot water sluiced over her battered body. She could hardly believe the events of the last couple of hours. Maybe I’m suffering from a head injury and this is all an hallucination. She half-expected to come to at any minute and find herself still lying on the pavement outside. Had that blur of black been the cat? It certainly seemed intelligent enough and its speed would explain why she hadn’t seen anything before she hit the ground. It made as much sense as finding the huge creature in her living room. Where had it come from, and why her flat? Someone had to
have trained him so he was probably valuable. It was possible he had escaped from a cage like the one she had pictured earlier. She knew that she would have to return him but the thought made her stomach hurt. Quickly she finished her shower, dried off and pulled on the nightshirt hanging on the back of the door. Maybe he’ll be gone.
She walked back into her bedroom to find the cat stretched full length on her bed. “Oh, no way! Get off of there.” When he ignored her she pulled futilely on the corner of the quilt. He raised his head from her spare pillow and she swore she could read amusement in his eyes. Panting and exhausted, she gave up and crawled into the other side of the bed. “You better not have fleas,” she mumbled. Her eyes drifted shut and as she tumbled into sleep, the word “Goodnight” whispered into her mind.
The street was dark and deserted. Jack noticed little else as he raced for the safety of the streetlights ahead. Behind him he could hear the scream of an overtaxed engine as the car sped after him. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the headlights gaining and desperately tried to convince his body to go faster. His throat burned with the rasp of his breath, his chest tightened from the want of oxygen, his paws felt raw from the friction of the concrete. Sanctuary seemed no closer. Movement caught his eye and he turned to see his mate running alongside him.
