by Danica Avet
And she would pay him back, she decided as she studied him. He’d broken her traps, yes, but he hadn’t done it alone. The wolf had helped. The other things he’d apparently scent-marked, well she didn’t even want to try to figure that one out, but she would’ve had to replace those things eventually anyway. It wouldn’t do any good to think this thing with him—whatever it was—would last for long.
“Thank you,” she finally told him when he started looking nervous again. “You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it. And I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a chance to put them on the water.” She did her best not to think about ways she could pay him back. On her back, on her knees, on his lap. Her heart sped up and the apex of her legs ached at the thought.
She prayed to everything that he wouldn’t guess what was on her mind, that she wasn’t eyeing him like a hunter did a ten-point buck.
Lucky for her, Zach was just as stubborn as she was because he shook his head. “I don’t want you to pay me back.”
Oh the ways she wanted to let him take his payment. If he was half as naughty as rumor suggested, he would’ve come up with that nefarious plan on his own and taken advantage of her. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part. Men, apparently even those who’d tried to make a meal out of her, didn’t seem to realize she had damsel-in-distress fantasies as well.
Zach, though, didn’t seem to pick up on her hunger, her need for him to twirl his invisible mustache and say, “I know exactly how you can pay me back, Miz Robicheaux…bend over.”
Stifling a wistful sigh, she finally shrugged when he cocked his head to the side. “You can’t always get what you want and all that. I’m paying you back.” To show the discussion was closed, she slapped her hands on her thighs, feeling lighter—and hornier—than she had before. “So, you ready for your swamp tour?”
Chapter Ten
She did it again. If Zach’s cock grew any harder, he’d burst out of his jeans and fuck Colette on the bench seat of her truck. He’d tried distracting himself with views of the boring road, glimpses of more houses perched in the swamp, counting potholes, anything but the woman sitting next to him smelling of sex and sin. And looking at his lap with longing.
The scent of her arousal was thick in the air, the constant shifting of her legs as she drove and those sly, hungry glances were enough to leave him with sweat trickling down his back. He clutched his knees, his fingers pressing deep, hoping a little pain would distract him. Then she peeked over at him again, her tongue pressing to her sexy upper lip. He bit back a whimper.
He’d spent a lot of time thinking last night as he ran all over trying to replace the traps he’d broken and the equipment he’d ruined with his possessiveness. All that thinking had been about Colette, about why she of all the women he’d known touched off the need to own her, to put his mark on her in some way. It wasn’t until he found himself promising desserts for two hungry she-bears that he realized he was whoring himself out for her. For Colette. And he didn’t even mind.
When Kitty required beignets for an entire month in exchange for allowing her mate and husband, Monk, to help him find the traps and have them transported to Maison Rouge within three hours, Zach had agreed without a second thought. When Daisy demanded cakes once a week for every week of her pregnancy in exchange for her mate’s help, Zach hadn’t batted an eyelash. Not when it meant he was able to get Ram’s band to help him cart everything through the swamp to Colette’s house in quick order. The best part though, was Monk and Ram hadn’t said a word about his weakness for the human hunter. They’d just given him knowing looks and helped out where they could.
And it was only as he listened to the complaints of Ram’s friends as they made numerous trips back and forth to her house that Zach realized she’d somehow burrowed herself into his heart. He wasn’t calling it love. Yet. He liked her, liked everything about her, even her stubbornness. The flashes he kept having of a life without her in it, without smelling her sweet scent or hearing her soft drawl were like waking nightmares. His tiger’s hunger for her and need to stamp his territorial markings all over her only solidified the knowledge that Zach needed Colette in his life.
He would have her in his life. He just had to figure out how. His first thought was that he couldn’t just fuck and mark her the way he would’ve if she had been a shifter. Even if she was shifter savvy, it wouldn’t mean a goddamn thing to her unless she cared for him. His stomach twisted and his tiger rumbled unhappily.
And there was the thought that kept circling around his head all night. What about him could possibly entice a woman to care for him? It was such a pathetic thought, he’d shied away from it several times. He’d never really battled his self-esteem. He was a tiger, after all. He knew he was handsome, had lethal grace, could fuck like a dream and all other things women had been telling him since he was old enough to know what to do with his dick, but not a single one of them had ever fallen in love with him. They hadn’t exactly fought to keep him in their beds. There’d been one crazy woman who did all kinds of weird stalker shit to him, but he hadn’t even been her main focus. She’d gone after the easygoing Monk Badeaux. Zach had been a side project.
They hit a big pothole and the truck bucked hard, drawing his attention to the woman driving. She handled the big vehicle as if it were nothing, confident in her ability to take care of herself. God, what a sexy woman. Zach wasn’t sure he could’ve picked a better mate for himself. And he didn’t even stumble over the word in his mind the way he had weeks ago.
A long, wooden building with the faded words, Bayou Ange Swamp Tours, appeared up ahead, distracting Zach from his thoughts. He glanced over at Colette, their gazes catching for a moment. His heart tripped over itself and his cock lurched for freedom. Only the knowledge that he had to show her there was more to him than sex held him in his seat. Otherwise, he would’ve been all over her like white on rice.
After what seemed like hours, she looked away, blinking at the empty parking lot. “We’re here,” she said in a hoarse tone. “Let’s go.”
Normally Zach would’ve done the gentlemanly thing and opened her door for her. He wanted to do that, to show her he wasn’t an asshole, but he didn’t need her to get a good look at the lead pipe in his pants. He took the time it took her to get out of the truck and climb the steps of the building to readjust his dick, try some deep breathing exercises, anything to make his erection go away.
No such luck. Colette’s fumbling with her keys caused them to fall from her hands. When she bent over to pick them up again, Zach had to bite his lip to keep from groaning at the round curve of her ass, hands itching to palm the firm globes. He’d never been so desperately hungry for a woman, especially not a woman he’d vowed not to touch. For now. Once he made her fall in love with him though, all bets were off. He just needed to survive the excruciating pain in his balls until that happened.
She turned to wave to him, her pert little tits swaying beneath her top.
“I hope this only takes a few weeks,” he muttered to himself as he eased from the truck. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to last any longer than that before he touched her.
The Bayou Ange Swamp Tour office was nicer on the inside than it appeared from the outside. He heard Colette moving around somewhere in the back, but didn’t follow. No, God knew he needed as much time as he could afford to regain his control. Instead, he wandered the lobby area, staring at pictures and sketches that had to date back to the late nineteenth century and documents that had been photocopied and preserved beneath glass.
Looking at them, seeing the obvious pride the Robicheaux clan had for their history and preserving it, made him realize he didn’t have anything left in the bakery showing how long it’d been in his family. Probably because he’d never really felt as though they were his family. He frowned at a picture of people who’d taken the tour before, a much younger Colette standing next to her dad, beaming at the camera. His grandmother used to try to tell him about his legacy, tried
to get him to love and appreciate the importance of being a Trahan with a business that had thrived for nearly a century, but he hadn’t wanted to hear it. What good would it do anyway? His grandmother hadn’t really wanted him. He wasn’t really part of her family. He’d been a burden on her, something his mother had dropped off like a bag of dirty laundry.
His frown turned into a scowl he could see in the picture frame. Zach didn’t spend much time thinking about his childhood, didn’t dwell on the sense of abandonment that plagued him, but being around Colette, seeing how much her family cared stirred old ghosts.
He was positive some therapist somewhere would say he had issues or some shit like that. If they were brave enough to even speak. Maybe he’d clung too hard to his resentment toward his mother, hadn’t given his grandmother a real chance to be as close to him as she’d obviously wanted. Because looking back, he could see how she’d tried to love him. She’d taught him everything she knew about the business, but all Zach had seen was making a name for himself, the fame and fortune that came with being the best chef in the state.
Moving on to another set of pictures, these surrounding an old newspaper clipping, he made a promise to himself to go through the things his grandmother had left for him with her passing. He hadn’t been interested in his ancestors before, only caring that they’d paved the way for his ambitions, but thoughts of having a mate and cubs made him want to know more about those tigers who’d settled in Maison Rouge. If he had kids, no when he had kids with that crazy Cajun woman, he wanted them to know about his family as well as hers. He highly doubted, though, that his tiger ancestors would turn out to be half as colorful as Colette’s.
He focused on the article in front of his face, one that spoke of another ancestor named Alcide Robichau who’d settled in what was now called Bayou Ange in 1768. A hunter, trapper and businessman, he’d opened a very small trading post, which flourished in the community of Bayou Ange. There was no mention of his relations with shifters, or why shifters never seemed to settle in the area, but Zach figured the words “hunter” and “trapper” had a lot to do with it. The trading post became a general store, the buildings having been flooded out over and over through the centuries.
The last reincarnation of the original general store had been constructed in 1893 by François Robicheaux. By 1979, the building had gone out of use as a store and that’s when the newest descendants, Willis, Claude and Eugene turned the old family business into a swamp tour company. A picture beneath the article showed the three guys who’d barged into his bakery two days before, except much younger. Their hair was long as was the style in the 70s, mustaches hiding their upper lips, but there was no mistaking the purple eyes of the Robicheaux family.
“Dad swears he’s going to take that picture down,” Colette said as she entered the room again, a bag over her shoulder. “He says it makes him look like a damn hippie.”
Zach couldn’t care less about the picture, not with the light shining through the windows, highlighting her pale hair and dark skin. His dick, which had thankfully deflated through his little tour of the room, swelled to painful proportions. His tiger liked. The man thought she resembled an angel. Then she gave him that sly, hungry look again that made his blood pressure shoot through the roof and sweat gather along his hairline.
“I’m making a pot of coffee for the ride,” she said when all he could do was stare at her. “I’ll also pack some water and a few snacks.” She paused to study him and his cock twitched at the speculative look in her eyes. “Maybe a lot of snacks.”
She turned around again, her braid whipping behind her as she returned to the back of the building. He waited until she cleared the doorway before he tried adjusting himself again. Treat her with respect. Be gentle with her. She’s not some quick shifter fuck. She’s the woman you want to mate. Repeating the words did nothing for his erection.
He banged his forehead on the wall. This was going to be the longest day of his life.
* * * * *
Colette guided the boat down Bayou Lupe, enjoying the serenity of being on the water without hunting. The occasional bald eagle circled overhead, great wings expanded and eyes on the swamp, looking for food. Fat catfish splashed here and there while silverfin carp leapt alongside the boat. Zach sat on the bench in front of her, the slight breeze ruffling his multicolored hair. His broad shoulders, which had started the tour bunched and tight, slowly relaxed as he saw the swamp through her eyes. She could’ve taken the party barge out or the airboat the way Alcide would have, but with only two of them on the tour, she’d opted for the smaller sixteen-foot aluminum boat. It made it a lot cozier and they could go places she didn’t normally get to show her clients.
She slowed the boat as they came to a fork in the bayou. “This is where Daddy caught a fourteen-foot alligator when he was twenty,” she told Zach, who’d turned to look at her. She pointed at the trunk of an old cypress tree. “You can still see where the line rubbed into the wood. He won the record for the biggest alligator ever caught in Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish,” she finished proudly.
Zach looked suitably impressed, which she appreciated. It was probably no big deal for him to catch an alligator or fight with one. He weighed as much, if not more, than most of the bayou beasts in his cat form. Since he showed up in her life, she’d done a little research on tigers and discovered they were one of the few predators that would attack other predators if food was scarce and even eat them. For some reason it pleased her to know he was the kind of predator who made others wary.
But he hadn’t made a single move on her since they got into her truck. Colette frowned at him as he studied the tree trunk, his gold eyes thoughtful.
He’d surprised her. When they got in the boat, he’d looked at her and asked, “Can you show me your favorite places to go?”
Colette hadn’t known what to say to that. In all the years she’d been doing tours with her family, no one had asked her where her favorite spots were. Of course, none of her past clients had stared into her eyes as though they were searching for something private and deep. She’d blushed, pleased and flattered and horny. Thank God she’d taken a quick shortcut into the office before meeting Zach at the boat.
She shifted to the side to hide the bag she’d grabbed on her way out of the building. If Zach was just being polite, he’d never know what was inside it. If he wasn’t…
Just then he glanced at her and she forgot all about alligators and hunting and the bag of hope behind her. “Zach,” she started, emboldened by her need for him. She took a step away from the wheel. Fuck it. You only live once, right? I want this man more than anything else and I’m going to have him.
As though the fates were completely against her, a crack of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by the ominous roll of thunder. Colette whipped her head around to see the clouds that had seemed so idyllic and picturesque before had turned dark and threatening. Another peal of thunder warned more was to come. And they were in an aluminum boat.
“Shit,” she spat as she stepped behind the wheel again. “Hold on.” Zach didn’t even question her, gripping the sides of the boat as she spun them around and shot down the left branch of the fork in the bayou. “I know somewhere we can ride this out,” she shouted over the roar of the engine and the bass-like rumbles of the thunderstorm.
She couldn’t believe she’d let herself become so distracted by him that she’d forgotten to pay attention to the weather. South Louisiana was infamous for its summer thunderstorms. They rolled up out of nowhere, dropped several inches of rain and disappeared as quickly as they arrived. The sky continued to darken, telling her it was only developing faster.
The cabin, more like a hunting shack, she frequently used for deer season was only a mile up the bayou. She’d planned to show it to Zach anyway, but hadn’t thought they’d be forced to seek it out by a storm. As if Mother Nature wanted to show her just how stupid she was, fat, cold raindrops fell from the darkening sky, slapping her face. The delug
e helped drown out some of her arousal. It was hard to hold on to a fantasy when drops of rain the size of nickels were stinging your face like angry bees. Zach turned to look at her, his gold eyes concerned.
“I got this,” Colette shouted over the noise. “I’m sure I won’t melt.”
His face got this weird, tight expression she didn’t have time to examine, but he didn’t look away from her. He probably thought she should’ve been like other women would be in the same situation. Shrieking about their hair, flapping their arms helplessly and a million other things her cousin would’ve done if she were caught in the rain. Kanda wasn’t exactly a ball of fluff, but she wasn’t far from it either.
Colette shook her head and concentrated on navigating the bayou, the sheets of rain making it more of a nuisance than difficult. She’d grown up here, the cabin she was taking them to had been built for her thirteenth birthday. These were her stomping grounds, her personal playground. Her territory.
She rounded the bend, the rickety cabin looking as solid and as untouched as she imagined Mount Everest was. The minute she saw it, her tension melted away. They were safe. She slowed down, letting the boat drift the last few yards to the dock. Without being directed, Zach leapt to the dock once they were within distance, the rope in his hand. He quickly helped tow her to the shallows and secured the rope to the tie-off piling.
Another crack of thunder sounded overhead and the rain went from a cold, steady shower to a howling, freezing squall. Wind gusted along the bayou, nearly sending Colette to her knees in the boat. Zach was there though, his hand reaching down to help her to her feet. Normally, she would’ve given him The Look, but it seemed the weather was against her today.
