Tempt Not the Cat

by J. C. Wilder

  “This beautiful tree will prevent you from making your escape,” he said, his tone wry.

  She blushed then surprised him by meeting his gaze. “You probably think I’m a fool.”

  Fayne leaned against the tree trunk, shaking his head as he spoke. “I don’t think you’re a fool, Erihn. I think your experiences have made you distrust men and that’s understandable. If you only learn one thing about me, I want you to know men aren’t all the same.”

  She recoiled, shock written on her face. Her hand fluttered, coming to rest in the center of her chest. He saw the desire to believe flicker in her eyes. He knew he had her teetering on the edge of a whole new world. All he had to do was coax her into taking the leap of faith that all humans faced sooner or later.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Yes, you do, Erihn. You believe all men can and will hurt you and that isn’t so. If you want to lie to me and say you don’t think all men are capable of this, then fine. Lie. But don’t deceive yourself.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, her lips trembling as if she were going to cry.

  A mild rush of panic fluttered in Fayne’s gut. He hated it when a woman cried. He never quite knew what to do when that happened. But if he didn’t push her, she’d retreat again and that he couldn’t have.

  “Why are you fighting me so, Erihn?’

  “You frighten me,” she murmured even as she began backing away.

  Frustration surged forth and Fayne pushed off from the tree. Reaching forward, he caught her wrist. Her pulse beat wildly beneath his thumb, and he smelled the desire on her skin. Since the moment he’d set eyes on her, he’d alternated between exhilaration and terror. Erihn was the most fascinating and repressed woman he’d ever met but today there was something different about her. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He pulled her into his arms, his fingers twining in the thick hair at the base of her skull.

  “Welcome to the club,” he whispered before he claimed her mouth.

  The taste of her exploded through his body. The essence of mint and warm woman tore through his resistance, setting his cock on full alert. Pulling her body into the curve of his, he relished the feel of her supple limbs, the heavy silk of her hair and the floral essence that clung to her skin.

  Never had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one.

  He wanted to shout with joy when her hands skimmed his side before her arms came to rest around his neck. Her fingers splayed outward across his spine and she leaned into him. Her soft tongue tangled with his, tentative, shy in her movements. Patiently, he showed her how to kiss him, how to tease, tempt, seduce, and how to drive him to the edge of madness. Within moments, he learned she was a quick study when she caught his tongue and gently sucked, mimicking his movements.

  A feral growl erupted from his chest and a surge of animal lust slammed into him. Within seconds, he was hard as a rock, need hammering at his brain. He skimmed his hand down her back, desperate to feel her skin. Slipping a hand beneath her sweater, he zeroed in on the center of her lower back.

  He was rewarded with a strangled sigh when she lunged against him, sending him stumbling back into the tree trunk. Her unbound breasts, pressed against him, felt like heaven. Stroking his hand up her side, he bypassed her rib cage to cup her breast, his thumb teasing her taut tip.

  Swallowing her answering moan, he plumped her breast in the palm of his hand. He needed to taste her skin, her heat. He broke the kiss, his breath screaming into his lungs as he watched her eyelids flutter. Her lips swollen and her eyes dilated with passion, she looked at him, her expression confused.

  He wanted her to see what he was about to do.

  Slowly, so she could follow every movement, he raised her sweater, baring her breast to the elements and his gaze. The areola was a pale brown, her nipple hard in the cool air, reaching for him as if begging for his touch. Her skin was so fair he could trace the delicate veins and just looking at her made his mouth water.

  Keeping her gaze locked with his, he lowered his head and licked the very tip. She quivered in his arms as a soft squeak erupted from her. Licking around the edge of the areola in tight little swipes, he was pleased when her fingers tightened on his back. She twined her fingers in his hair as if to guide him, but he refused to be rushed. Some things in life were meant to be savored, and worshipping a woman’s body was one of them.

  The scent of her bath oil clouded his senses as he nipped and kissed the mound of her breast, pausing every now and then to lap at the nipple.

  “Please.” Her voice was breathless, pleading.

  A surge of triumph raced through him and he dipped his head then took her into his mouth. Fingers tightened in his hair as he suckled her, laving her nipple, rolling it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He slid his hands down to her hips, cupping her, pressing her against his cock.

  Releasing the succulent morsel, he pressed kisses down the slope of her breast, urgency riding low in his belly. Nosing her sweater aside, he nuzzled the newly revealed flesh. His lips brushed over a hard narrow ridge of flesh and he paused. Pulling away, his gaze traced the scar that ran from the center of her chest under her left breast.

  Erihn froze in his arms.

  Aware of her stillness, he pressed a kiss to the very tip of the scar, his tongue stealing out to taste the ridge. Quick as a cat, she wrenched herself from his arms. He caught a glimpse of her shattered expression before she spun and ran for the house.

  Frustration zinging through his blood, Fayne rubbed a hand through his hair. Every time he thought he was making progress, something happened to slam the door shut. His breath huffed out as he watched her retreating figure disappear behind the heavy door.

  He’d let her go. This time.

  * * * * *

  It’s almost time.

  Max froze, his fingers tightening around the handle of the trowel. Who said that? He glanced around, seeing no one nearby except for Bliss and Stuart, the dig foreman, deep in conversation many feet away.

  He stuck his trowel into the rich earth before releasing the handle. Mentally, he pulled inward and formed a question to offer to the universe.

  Time for what?

  A hot breath of wind swooped out of nowhere, stirring the powder-fine dirt before him and caused him to blink rapidly when the voice came again.

  Prepare yourself…

  Chapter Five

  Erihn walked from the gloom of the library, clutching research papers and books to her chest. The late afternoon sunshine hit her full in the face as she entered the living room and she squeaked in annoyance. Turning her head away from the glare, an unfamiliar sight caught her attention. An old milk glass vase graced the center of the coffee table, filled with Indian paintbrush, columbines, and fresh sage. It hadn’t been there when she’d gone into the library a few hours earlier.

  “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

  She blinked owlishly, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. Fayne stood at the foot of the couch in all his bare-chested glory. Low-slung jeans clung to his narrow hips, and one hand lay over his heart, lazily scratching as if he liked the sensation of his fingernails in the light fur on his chest. He was beautiful.

  A delicious thrill of awareness and apprehension danced along her nerves. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, to have him look at her with passion in his eyes as he had earlier. She also wanted to run away and avoid him for the next ten years.

  He frowned. “Are you okay? You have an odd look on your face.”

  Erihn nodded. “I’m fine.” She gave him a wide berth as she stumbled to the coffee table to deposit her load. A book slipped, dislodging some papers and the were-cat diary from her arms. She and Fayne both dived for the diary, their hands colliding on the worn leather binding. “Sorry,” she mumbled when he released the book.

  “That’s a very old book,” he observed.

  “Mid-eighteenth century. It’s in remarkable cond
ition.” Erihn secured the book in a narrow wooden box lined with velvet before slipping it into her voluminous handbag, which was sitting by the coffee table. “It’s a diary I’m using to research my next book.”

  “Really? Jennifer said you’re her favorite novelist. How many books have you written?”

  She blushed. “She’s just being nice. The one I’m working on now will make number twenty.”

  Fayne whistled. “Quite impressive. I’m assuming Jennifer has copies of your books?” He scooped the notebook and some papers off the floor, handing them to her without even glancing at her neat handwriting.

  She nodded toward the shelves. “They’re on the shelf, next to the CD player.”

  Erihn sat on the couch to put her notes back in order as he walked to the shelves. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, he perused the titles that bore her name.

  “Which one is your latest title?”

  “Velvet Lover.” She placed the note pages into their appropriate folders then rose in time to see him pluck the book off the shelf. “What are you doing?”

  He turned, the paperback looked small in his big hand. “I want to read it.”

  Erihn blushed and shook her head. “You really don’t need to…”

  “Sure I do. It isn’t every day I get to meet a famous writer.”

  She laughed. “I’m hardly famous.”

  “According to the back of the book you are.” He glanced at the cover. “Award- winning and best-selling. It says so right here. Jennifer said this book is hot stuff.”

  His smile was huge and his eyes sparkled with laughter. He was actually enjoying her discomfort and she couldn’t help but return his smile.

  “Yeah well, maybe you’ll need pot holders when you read it, then.”

  The laughter in his eyes faded, changing to a smoldering look that made her shiver. Curse her rampant tongue! She fought the urge to flee from his heated gaze.

  “Maybe I will.”

  Erihn cleared her throat and changed the subject. “I met your cat this morning.”

  Fayne smiled, a mysterious twinkle lit his eye. “You did? I hope he didn’t frighten you.”

  “It was a bit shocking to find him sprawled in my bed.”

  “In your bed?” An odd little smile played about his lips when he shook his head. “I thought I taught him better than that. What did you think of him?”

  “He’s amazing,” she breathed. “And beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like him. Where did you get him?”

  “He was a gift from a friend and he’s very dear to me.” He grinned. “You might say I’ve had him so long that he’s a part of me now. Maybe I’ll let him out later for you to play with.”

  “Where do you keep him?”

  “Oh, here and there. During the day, he sleeps, but when night falls, he likes to prowl.”

  Erihn shivered. “Does he hunt or do you have to feed him?”

  “A little of both, but don’t worry,” his voice grew husky, “he won’t bite, unless you ask him nicely.”

  She shivered as a vision of Fayne nibbling on her skin invaded her senses. She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Speaking of dinner…”

  “Right, dinner. It’s ready, so go freshen up, and I’ll be out front.”

  “Out front? I thought we couldn’t get off the mountain.”

  “We aren’t going down the mountain, we’re going up.” He grinned. Dropping the paperback on the top step leading to the basement guestroom, he walked toward the kitchen.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “You’ll see,” he called over his shoulder.

  Erihn scrambled up the steps and down the hall into the first-floor bathroom to freshen up. After splashing water on her face, she was startled at the excitement in her eyes reflected in the mirror. No doubt about it, she was crazed.

  But isn’t it fun?

  Swallowing a wild giggle, she gave her hair a quick finger combing before exiting the house. Stepping out into the fading light, she took a deep breath of the fresh air. Leafy trees shrouded the drive and front of the house in a cool golden-green glow. She walked to the drive, curious to see what he was up to.

  “Are we going to walk…” Her voice trailed off as she saw what he was standing next to.

  A Harley Davidson motorcycle leaned on its kickstand in the drive. All gleaming chrome and black enamel paint, it looked lethal, sexy, as did its owner. Fayne had donned a T-shirt and a black leather jacket over his jeans and heavy black boots. A black leather backpack sat at his feet.

  “I can’t ride that,” she stammered.

  “Sure you can. Jennifer loves to ride with me.” He picked up another jacket from the seat and offered it to her. “I assure you it’s completely safe.”

  Erihn bit her lip. She wanted to go, but the thought of being in such close proximity to this man made her throat constrict. Was it fear or desire? She wasn’t sure if she knew anymore.

  He walked to her and slung the jacket around her shoulders. It was much smaller than his and could only be Jennifer’s. The scent of leather surrounded her as he helped her into the sleeves.

  “You’ll need to wear the backpack. It has our dinner in it.”

  “I…” Before she could voice another objection, he had the backpack secured over her shoulders and was walking toward the bike. Swinging a leg over, he turned and looked at her expectantly.

  She stared at the bike with longing as she gnawed on her bottom lip. What would it hurt to take a ride with him? He said Jennifer rode with him, so surely it was safe. She’d love to feel the wind rushing through her hair. She released her bottom lip and squared her shoulders. He smiled as she stepped hesitantly toward him and her heart gave a silly little flip.

  “Where do I put my feet?”

  Fayne pointed to a metal rod. “Put your foot on the peg and swing yourself over like you would a horse.”

  “Maybe I need to change into a pair of pants.” Erihn glanced at her skirt. “This isn’t very practical for riding a motorcycle.”

  He frowned at the skirt then climbed off the bike. “I have an idea.” He vanished into the garage and, within seconds, he returned with something black in his hands. He grinned and held up the black leather apparel. “Chaps.”

  She blinked. “Chaps?”

  “Sure. This goes around your waist.” He undid the buckle and looped the belt around her waist before securing it. The leather flaps hung free, covering the front of her skirt. “Then this,” he dropped to his knees and she yelped as a strong hand skimmed the inside of her calf before nudging her skirt up, “ties here.”

  Erihn looked down as he tied the laces around the back of her knee. She quivered when his warm hands brushed her overheated skin, sending tingles of awareness rocketing to her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes.

  “Then there’s one more thing…”

  Her eyes flew open and she gave a squeak as his strong fingers skimmed the inside of her thighs. Pushing her skirt up farther, he reached for the top set of ties.

  I’m not wearing any underwear! Erihn blushed. Thank goodness the chaps were too big and the ties didn’t sit right below her butt-cheeks where they should have been. He would’ve gotten an eyeful, or a handful, then.

  “Okay, we’re ready to go.” Fayne got to his feet and ambled over to the bike, swinging his leg over easily. He turned the key before gripping the handlebars. With a practiced motion, he started the bike with a roar shattered the stillness.

  She backed up. “It might be easier if I changed first,” she yelled.

  His smile was sly. “Not as much fun, though.”

  She swallowed. “I really need to…”

  His brow lifted. “Afraid?”

  She stiffened her spine and her gaze narrowed. “I most certainly am not.” Marching to the bike, she stepped onto the peg and tossed her leg over like pro. The chaps gave her freedom of movement and her knees brushed the side of his hips when she sat.

  “See?” she said
smugly. “I told you I wasn’t afraid.”

  Fayne chuckled and reached back, cupping his hands around the backs of her leather-clad knees. “You need to sit a lot closer than that.” He tugged and Erihn squeaked when her skirt rode up, just short of exposing herself, and her body came into full contact with his. She put her hands against his back to try and get some space between them.

  “Quit fidgeting. You’re fine. Now put your arms around my waist.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she mumbled. She felt terribly vulnerable, thanks to her wretched skirt. Never again would she go without underwear.

  Deciding that she couldn’t do anything about the skirt short of changing it and he didn’t seem to want to allow her to do that, she laid her hands lightly on his waist. She’d have to make sure she got off the bike first so he couldn’t see her dilemma.

  She gasped when he caught her hands and pulled them around his body, placing them flat on his tight stomach. Erihn was plastered against his back like a limpet.

  As he put it in gear and let out the clutch, her grip tightened, certain they’d fall off at any moment. She felt his chest rumble when he laughed at her reaction.

  He chose a path through the side yard, through what Jennifer called the wilderness. He drove slowly, the path narrow and damp from several weeks of excessive rain. They wove around trees and thickets, over little hills and ridges, heading ever higher. A small runoff was forded with little fuss and some splashing of the chilly rainwater. Erihn caught her breath when she saw the valley through a break in the trees. The sun was sinking ever lower, painting the valley in gold and bluish shadows.

  She clung to Fayne when he hit a sharply vertical patch before they crested the ridge, coming out on the gravel road above the house. Narrow and twisting, the old logging road had been shut down after Jennifer bought the land. Now in disuse, the weeds and wilderness were slowly reclaiming the scars wrought by mankind.

  He followed the road, ever climbing upward. With the smoother terrain beneath them she felt it was safe enough to relax her grip and enjoy the ride. The air rushing through her hair gave her a feeling of freedom, similar to standing outside in the storm yesterday.