by T. S. Ryder
"I know him enough to know how I feel for him. To know how he feels for me."
"Honey—"
"I know him, Mom. And I'm not leaving him alone again."
***
Several weeks later, Mack turned off her rental car and stared at the mansion, her heart in her throat. What if she couldn't find him? She had spent the last few weeks telling herself that she would find him and all would be well, but what if she couldn't?
The SWAT team had dismantled all of Oliver's traps, but Mack was still cautious and entered the mansion through the window in the atrium. Everything was in terrible condition. There was shattered glass everywhere, chunks of wood that bullets had torn free all over the floor, and plants that had been torn up and kicked around.
Mack checked the hidden trapdoor first. The frozen foods had thawed, in some cases going moldy. Her heart sank. Even though she had told the marshals about this place, she had foolishly hoped that they hadn't passed it along to the search and rescue team and that Oliver would be inside, nursing some injuries, but very much on the road to recovery.
The house was empty and eerily still. Mack shivered as she moved from room to room, calling Oliver's name. But he was nowhere to be found, and her heart sank further with every step she took. She was glad that she hadn't let her family come out here with her–they would be encouraging her to give up, and as the dull ache of her still-healing wound turned into a persistent throb, it would be all too easy to give in.
She was sobbing by the time she climbed the ladder to the bedrooms. He wasn't here. Would she ever see him again?
Blinded by tears, she went to his room and curled up on the bed, pushing her face into his pillow to breathe in his musky, manly scent. She wasn't certain how long she lay there, crying, but when her face shone with sweat and her throat was dry and sticky, she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
How long could she hold onto hope? Her mother was right–if search and rescue couldn’t find Oliver, then how could she? If she tried to go out into the swamp looking for him, would she end up lost and dead? Was that what he would have wanted?
But how could she just give up on him? He had defended her to his last, and it was only because of her stupidity, trusting Tom Meyer instead of waiting for Oliver to get her, that they were separated like they were.
Moving as if she was in a dream, Mack wiped her tears and headed for her room. While she was here, she might as well pick up the books she had left behind. And maybe take a cold shower while she was at it. Her temples throbbed from the heat.
She stopped in the doorway of her room. The bed, which she distinctly remembered carefully making the morning of the incident, was crumpled, the blankets in a twisted mess. Leaves were scattered all over the floor. Some were brown and dried, but others fresh, like they had just been plucked from the plant. Her heart beat with hope and she trembled, leaning against the doorway as her knees weakened. Could she withstand more disappointment if he wasn't here?
"Oliver? Oliver, please, if you're here…"
She rushed to the bathroom. Empty. But he had to be here somewhere, he had to be hanging around…
The screen in the bathroom window was missing. If she hadn't noticed that, Mack would never have seen the small shadow cast onto the sill. Like something was just outside, against the wall.
With a cry, she rushed to the window. Oliver stood on the small ledge just outside, clinging to the wall with his giant, nimble hands.
"Oliver!"
He winced as he looked down at her, not even attempting a smile. With a sigh, he slipped back into the room. Mack threw her arms around him, sobbing in relief.
"I thought you were dead! I thought that I'd never see you again."
Oliver's hands cased her shoulders, and gently but firmly he pushed her away. His eyes were on the floor as he shook his head. "I should be dead. No normal person could survive getting shot multiple times and falling off a building like that. But me, not even a scar,"
"You're alive." Mack reached for his face. He caught her hands, holding her away.
"I don't want you to touch me right now."
The smile slipped off her face. "Oliver?"
"I was going to tell you I'm alive. I wasn't going to make you suffer." His eyes fixed firmly on her feet. "But this… this just proves what I was worried about all along. I'm not human. I don't belong in your world. And after seeing what I did to all those men… Mack, I'm just too dangerous to be around people."
"You say that like you're not a person."
"I'm not! I'm an animal." He turned away.
Mack stared at him. The anger she never felt when she was around him blossomed in her chest and her fists clenched at her sides. "An animal? We're all animals. We all evolved the same way. I don't care if you turn into something that doesn't look human, you're a person. You're a good man, and as for what you did here–you were defending me! All the men you killed would have killed me and you if they had the chance. That doesn't make you dangerous."
Oliver lifted his eyes to hers. "You're angry."
"Of course I'm angry! You can't take this one incident, where you were protecting me, and say that it's more important than all the good times we had together. Playing on the jungle gym? Hide and seek in the atrium? Not to mention sex in the theater room!" Mack put her hands on her hips. "When have you ever hurt me? Not once."
"That doesn't mean I won't. In the future."
"You won't. Don't cut me out, Oliver. Please."
"I can't have children."
"I don't care. I love you."
"You love me?" A brief smile crossed his face. "I was afraid you'd run away from me. But I was wrong. You ran towards me." He stepped forward, and his fingers brushed her cheek. She pressed her hands to his chest. His heart beat sure and strong. "I don't understand why you want to be with me."
"Because you are the most unique, wonderful man I have ever met, and you let me be me." Mack pressed herself against him, smiling up into his deep eyes. "I'm happy when I'm with you… and I like to think you're happy with me."
Oliver wrapped his strong arms around her. "Deliriously happy. Happier than I've ever been in my life."
He pressed a kiss to her mouth and, with a sigh, Mack wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in deeper.
Epilogue
Florida was growing on her. To hell with spanx and whatever else was going to make her look thinner and hide her wobbly bits. Now it was all tank tops and short shorts. Even less when she and Oliver were home in their countryside getaway, but with a business to run, they could only get out there during the weekends.
Mack smiled as she carried a basket of squirming, mewling kittens back to their mother after being weighed. Oliver had purchased a few acres of land just outside Orlando so she could finally set up her animal rescue shelter. They only had licenses to take in domestic animals at the moment, but she was working on getting registered to care for wild animals.
"Here you go, lovely." She slipped into the large pen where the mother cat was anxiously waiting for her kittens to return. As Mack put them down one by one, the mother cat began licking them. "All healthy and purrrrrfect."
She scratched the cat behind the ears, making her purr. In a few weeks, the kittens would be old enough to adopt out, and she already had a new owner for the mother and the runt of the litter when that happened.
Adopting out kittens and puppies was easy. The older animals, however, were starting to get overcrowded. They'd have to put out more advertisements. Even with all their space, they just didn't have enough room to care for them all.
After she fed the cats and cleaned a few cages, Mack sought her lover and business partner out. He was where he always was at this time of day, sitting outside the cage of a cat they had gotten from a hoarder two weeks ago. The poor thing had been half-starved, and though it had fattened up since then, the ragged patches of fur on its body had not regrown. The fur that was growing was a hideous poop-brown. As Mack approached,
the familiar warning hiss issued from the cage.
"I don't know if there's hope for this one, Oliver." Mack put her hand on his shoulder. "He just doesn't like people."
Oliver pressed her palm to his lips. "And that's why I think he's perfect for us. Think about it. I don't like people, you don't like people. If we don't take him, who will?"
The cat spat at Mack as she looked at it. She closed her eyes very slowly several times until the growling ceased, then sat beside Oliver. Her family had found him strange and a little off-putting when she first introduced him, but he had soon won them over. Her mother had confided in him that she had never seen Mack so light-hearted and happy in her whole life, and his eccentric ways were soon labeled endearing.
Mack put her head on her lover's shoulder, enjoying the warmth from his skin.
"If we take him home, he'll run away and end up being an alligator's snack," she said, while Oliver made gentle hooting noises towards the ugly, defensive cat. "I have to admit, though, you're really good with him. Look at that. He's visibly relaxing."
"We could have him in our city apartment at first until he won't run away. I just hate to see him in here. It's so lonely… And I know how he feels. Like he's not wanted, like the world will hurt him if it gets too close." Oliver turned sad eyes on her. "What if I promised to stay home every day to take care of him? I'll buy scratching posts and toys and treats. I'll buy you a new car," he added. "And a new dress. And I'll buy your parents a new house."
"You just bought them a new house."
"I'll buy them another one. And your brothers, I'll buy them houses, too. I'm very rich, you know." He said it seriously, as though she didn't know that already.
Mack laughed. "You crazy monkey."
"Ape," he corrected. "Or hominid-ape. Maybe I'm Bigfoot. It doesn't matter." He beamed at her. "I have you and I'm happy. I just want to give him the same chance that you gave me."
Mack felt herself caving. She straddled Oliver's hips and nodded. "Fine. We can adopt the cat."
Oliver's eyes lit up.
"If, and I do mean if, you clean up after yourself for a full week," Mack smiled, knowing that he wasn't going to do it and she was going to let him have the cat anyway. Her heart felt full to bursting and she pressed her mouth to his. "Let me change that. You can have the cat if you tell me you love me."
"I love you," Oliver said at once. "Have since I first laid eyes on you."
"I love you, too."
He drew her back for another kiss. Their lips parted and their tongues flicked against each other. Mack moaned, pressing herself tighter against him. The cat hissed and Oliver laughed, sticking one of his fingers through the cage.
"Silly kitty. You're coming home with us tonight. You're going to have to get used to it." He sighed, resting his head on her chest. "He's perfect, isn't he?"
"You're perfect," Mack replied, smiling at him.
Oliver chuckled. "No, you're perfect."
Mack tilted his face to hers, cupping his face in her hands. "This is perfect."
"Can't argue with that." He pulled her in for another kiss.
*****
THE END
The Shifting Billionaire's Baby
Description
A curvy BBW investigating a murder PLUS a hot billionaire business tycoon leading his pack PLUS a dangerous killer on the loose!
Roland Davis is no ordinary man. He's a werewolf and Alpha of his pack. As such, Roland has duties, and taking a mate and producing an heir to lead the werewolves after him are chief among them.
The problem is that there is only one female werewolf left in his pack, and though they’ve been trying for a baby, they haven’t succeeded yet. When she turns up murdered, Roland can't help but feel that he has lost his chance to protect his pack.
Until he meets curvy detective Claire Doyle...
Solving murders is Claire's specialty. Despite what her best friend thinks, she doesn't need anything else in her life. She's not looking for a man, not even a hunky billionaire like Roland.
But as something draws her closer and closer to him, she finds that what she doesn't want might be exactly what she needs.
When a one night stand has unintended consequences, Roland and Claire have to find a way to cope with dark secrets and an uncertain future. But is love really in the cards for them?
Chapter One
Roland could still smell Melissa's blood, even though the police had covered her with a sheet. He stood on the opposite side of the room, watching them work with narrowed eyes. He wanted to stride over to them and demand answers, but this situation was not one where he could intimidate others into submission. They didn't know any more than he did at the moment.
Melissa was dead in his bed. Murdered.
As cameras flashed, taking pictures of the blood stains and possible footprints, Roland's hands clenched. Melissa had been a sweet, kind woman. A little too submissive for his personal preferences, but she didn't deserve this. When he learned who killed her, he would kill them. She was a member of his pack, and he was meant to protect her. Failing that, he would have revenge.
The head of security and his second-in-command, Adam, shifted closer to him. "You know they're going to ask for security footage. Last night—"
"I'm aware," Roland interrupted. Like Adam, he kept his voice too low for the police to hear. "They will no doubt find it suspicious that we turned off the security cameras."
The cameras had just been turned back on when Melissa's body was found. Roland had been the one to find her, laying in his bed, a knife still in her chest. He ground his teeth together. Apparently she was ready to try to get pregnant again. She had told him more than once that she wanted to be a mother. It was why she had agreed to try with him in the first place. Now she never would have the chance.
Roland and Adam were the only two born werewolves left in the pack. As Alpha, Roland kept his kind when the full moon rose and transformed his pack into bloodthirsty monsters. Adam, his Beta, had better control over himself than the others, but even he could not fully resist the full moon. Roland needed to take a mate that could bear him children. He needed an heir who would eventually take his place as Alpha, protecting the pack and keeping them in line during the three nights that their wolves took over.
Melissa had been the only female in the pack, the last since Roland's mother passed. Roland didn't love Melissa and she hadn't loved him. They never felt the connection of being mates, even when they were in bed together. They both knew their duty, though, and had been trying to produce young for the past year.
After three miscarriages, Melissa had decided that she didn't want to take the heartbreak anymore. They had agreed to take a break until she was strong enough to face the possibility of losing more babies. Roland hadn't thought that would ever happen. In truth, he wasn't sure how much more heartbreak he could take, and if Melissa had been in his room to start trying again, he didn't know if he would have wanted to try.
"How are you going to find a mate now she's gone?" Adam muttered under his breath.
Roland tensed.
"You know that you need to have an heir soon. The pack is getting restless during the moon. Unless you have young soon, I'm afraid they're going to start challenging you. Especially Brian."
"I understand your concerns, Adam." Roland worked hard to keep his voice level. The Beta was only expressing his concerns, after all. "But Melissa's body is still in my bed. Show some respect."
Adam bowed his head. "I didn't mean—"
"I know. Just keep it to yourself." Roland blew out a deep breath, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
The faint scent of chocolate cupcakes had his head turning. As he turned, a woman strode past, completely ignoring him. His eyes zoned in on her as she went directly to the body. She walked with all the self-confidence of a queen, although she was dressed in a fitted business suit and sensible flats. Her short hair was perfectly curled, and she carried a large, black bag over her shoulder.
"Detective Doyle." The cop who had told Roland to stand outside the room, then permitted him to stand by and watch when Roland had refused to leave, nodded in greeting to the new woman. She nodded at him in return.
"What do we have here?"
Roland couldn't stop his eyes from widening. Her voice was rich and slightly husky for a woman, although all the more attractive for it. His eyes traced her body. She was all mouth-watering curves, soft and plump and oh so succulent. The pencil skirt she wore hugged her ass, and he couldn't help but imagine what the curves of the twin globes would be like if she was naked. His mouth watered.
A sharp jab from Adam's elbow brought him back to the present. Roland glared at his Beta, who ducked his head in apology. The Alpha shook his head–as he had just told Adam, Melissa's body was still laying in his bed. This was the worst time for him to be checking out another woman!
Even one as delicious as Detective Doyle.
The detective was being briefed on the circumstances of how Melissa was found, and she glanced over her shoulder at Roland. She had a kind, open face, and the biggest, brownest eyes he had even seen. They matched her chocolate scent perfectly. Her skin was milky-white.
Melissa had been Hollywood-pretty. Stick-thin, with cute, bite-sized breasts and a flat, tight ass. Roland had enjoyed being with her, but he had never felt the thick lust towards her that was pooling in his belly when Detective Doyle met his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to breathe through his mouth so that he couldn't smell her. Chocolate was his favorite food.
