“For an act, you say?”
“Rise to Power-Search for Pride is destined to be a remarkable performance, showcasing an array of talent and the most exotic animals. Due to the nature of the show and interaction with our performers, it’s important to find lions we feel we can handle well in front of an audience.”
Barlo chose a fresh cigar from a diamond-encrusted gold cigar case. He carefully stripped the wrap from his cigar and stuffed the thick end between his lips. He chewed the tip thoughtfully before he said, “Jagger, let’s shoot straight with one another, shall we?”
“Of course.”
“You couldn’t care less about Sanchez. You’re here on Ariela’s behalf. When she first started visiting Sanchez, anyone could tell she had a—how should I say this—special connection?”
Damn it. Someone, and he didn’t have to venture far to find the culprit, had planted a bug in Barlo’s ear. Perhaps Barlo even suspected the reasons for such a profound interest in one of his lions.
“What’s your price?”
“Oh I don’t know, Jagger.” Barlo leaned forward, placed his cigar in the ashtray and sneered. “What’s yours?”
“You’re the one with the animal for sale.”
“See, that’s just it. Sanchez isn’t for sale.”
“Everything is for sale. Anything can be purchased for a price.”
“Are you interested in a barter?”
Jagger’s pulse quickened. “What do you have in mind?”
“Ariela.”
“Off limits.”
“A week with Ariela, and the animal belongs to you.”
“Just like that, huh?” Jagger wanted to shift and pounce on the sorry bastard for even suggesting such a trade.
“Just like that.”
“Ariela is my wife. What do you hope to gain out of this?”
“What’s wrong, Jagger? Are you afraid she won’t come home to you, or will you be unable to touch her again once she’s been in my arms, lain in my bed?”
Aware of Barlo’s bodyguards inching closer, Jagger reined in his temper and rose to his feet. “There isn’t anything else to discuss here.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” His eyes flickered with pure wickedness. “I was hoping you’d discuss the matter with Ariela. I like your wife, Jagger. I’d like to make her happy, and if she wants Sanchez, I’m willing to negotiate the terms and deliver him to your casino as soon as my demands are met and satisfied.”
About that time, a buzzer resounded and Barlo’s personal assistant said, “Mr. Matheson, Ariela from Pride’s Las Vegas Casino is here to see you, Sir.”
Barlo chuckled. “Let me guess; the Mrs. didn’t know you were planning to be here tonight?”
“She was waiting for me. Apparently she grew impatient.” Jagger shuddered to think of the reasons for Ariela’s impatience.
“I wonder why,” Barlo drawled, insinuating plenty when a low guttural growl seeped from his lips and he locked eyes with a bodyguard. “See our lovely guest in, Cox.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Cox, the burliest fellow in the room.
A second later, Ariela was escorted into Barlo’s office, and Jagger could smell his mate’s sweet scent long before she entered. Her perfume, a mix of wild flowers and vanilla, left his nostrils flaring, a reaction he tried to conceal.
Barlo immediately tilted his head back when Ariela took her place next to Jagger. His eyes became wild. His body became rigid, strangely more erect. He whirled around on his boot heel and faced the window, deliberately avoiding contact with Ariela.
“What are you?” Jagger asked, aware of another shifter before them, a businessman he’d never suspected of supernatural abilities. Jagger shot Ariela a sideways glance, disapproving of her presence there, particularly now that he’d discovered Barlo had a secret, a secret he’d kept well hidden from others like him, which was a feat in and of itself.
“We need to go, Jagger,” Ariela whispered, the desperate need to mate evident in her voice.
“What’s your hurry, Ariela?” Barlo asked, extending his arm and unbuttoning his long white shirtsleeve. He bunched the material at his elbow. “Your husband and I were about to negotiate Sanchez’s release.”
“Were you?” she asked, taking a step toward Barlo. “You’ve decided to sell him?”
Barlo stalked her then, every bit the man and beast—a beast Jagger couldn’t easily sense or detect, which only made him more uneasy. “I didn’t say I wanted to sell him. I said I’ll negotiate for his release.”
“Then let’s do it!” Ariela exclaimed excitedly, grabbing Jagger by the arm. “Did you hear him, Jagger? Barlo is ready to negotiate. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Yes, Jagger,” Barlo drawled. “Why didn’t you call her?”
Jagger snarled. “Barlo and I haven’t reached an agreement.”
“Then reach one,” she deadpanned.
“Ariela, you need to wait in the car.”
“I need you to work out the terms,” she pleaded.
“I’d like for you to go wait in the car,” Jagger said, the growing angst holding him hostage. He wanted to talk with Barlo alone. Even if he had to draw out the beast, force him to show his face, he would. He wouldn’t leave that office until he knew more about the shifter in front of him.
“Perhaps you should listen to your husband, Ariela.” Barlo’s cheeks twitched. His Adam’s apple jerked. Dark shadows encased his eyes. An evil smile spread across his face and he directed his attention to Ariela. “Unless you’re willing to discuss business privately.”
Jagger lurched forward, defying the need welling inside him, fighting like mad to resist the urge to shift, the profound urgency to protect his mate. Before he could settle down, his hands locked around Barlo’s throat.
“Jagger!” Ariela screamed, trying to pull him away from Barlo.
Her need to breed only drove his instincts. A lioness-shifter’s mating season often wreaked havoc on a male’s supreme need to shield his mate. He lashed out at Barlo using part-claw, part hand.
With the quick maneuver, Barlo likely didn’t see the transition, but he screamed out as Jagger’s nails raked across his flesh and drew blood.
An evil hiss struck at his eardrums as Barlo’s sharp teeth, incisors actually, nicked his earlobe and another hiss filled the air. “You don’t want to go up against me, Jagger. You will not only lose your woman, but you’ll also lose your life.”
Jagger gripped Barlo’s collar, aware then that the bodyguards hadn’t intervened. They never made the first move to protect their boss, which could only mean one thing.
Barlo knew how to defend himself.
“What are you?” Jagger shook him.
Barlo sneered. “As if you’d be privy to such information.”
“What are you?” This time his voice ricocheted off the walls.
About that time, the door slammed against the back wall and Leon marched inside the office. His eyes were glassy. His tightened expression was hardened like pure granite stone.
“He’s a nomad, Jagger,” Leon said, glancing behind him as if he thought someone might strike from the back. “And this isn’t a tail-wagging moment for any of you.” His gaze flicked over Ariela. “Settle your business with Barlo, and let’s go.”
Chapter Four
The hours ahead promised a mix of emotions, pleasures, and disputes. The discussions would lead to tumultuous arguments, ravenous fucking, and downright opposition from all sides.
Ariela was up for it, but first, she would see Sanchez. She wouldn’t leave Barlo’s casino until she had the opportunity to check on him.
“Take me to Sanchez.”
Barlo stroked his tongue across his upper lip. “Is there any particular reason you want to see him tonight?” He lifted his chin and made a show out of inhaling the air. “I can only imagine.”
“I want you to let me in his cage.”
“No.” Jagger spoke up i
mmediately. “We have a long day tomorrow, Ariela, and if we’re going home to the desert tonight, we need to start heading that way.”
“Not until I see Sanchez,” she said, standing her ground.
“Where did this woman get her fiery temper?” Barlo asked, taking obvious pleasure in watching Ariela interact with Jagger.
“I’ll barter for one hour.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Jagger yanked her around to face him. “You know the dangers of being in the same cage with him right now. What if he isn’t a—” Jagger stopped in midsentence.
“I’d be more concerned if he is,” Barlo said, easily translating the underlying meaning. “If he is like you or me—” he let them digest the admission—”then he’ll smell her scent from the moment we send her downstairs. He’ll know she’s coming for him, and he’ll be prepared.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“You have no way of knowing that,” Jagger said.
“Tell him, Barlo. Tell him what a kind and gentle creature Sanchez is.”
“You’re asking him?” Jagger raised his voice.
Barlo smirked. He crossed his arms over his chest and butted his hips against one of the barstools surrounding his circular antique bar. He studied Ariela for a moment and then shrugged. “There’s no way to tell what kind of beast we have until a female shifter, or lion, is confined with him.”
“You’d be right there with me,” she promised, rubbing against him and practically purring as the friction eased the growing throb, the sensitivity in her breasts. “I’ll be careful.”
“The staff will be suspicious if I bring down an army, particularly one from the competition.” Barlo clucked. “If she goes, I’ll walk her downstairs. That way she has time to think about what she’s doing. Our back entrance leads down a series of steps. Sanchez’s cage is in the center of the room. He’ll see her coming and we’ll know how to gauge his response to her before she reaches him.”
“You have to let her do this,” Leon said, pulling Jagger aside.
“Will she be all right?” he asked, low enough so only Ariela could hear.
“This time, yes,” Leon assured him. “But if you don’t let her go, Jagger, she’ll go anyway—and then she’ll place herself in a vulnerable position.”
Jagger slowly agreed, nodding only once at Barlo.
Wasting little time, Barlo marched to the door and held out his arm. “Shall we, Ariela?”
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, pressing a quick kiss on Jagger’s lips before giving Leon a peck, too.
Then, without further delay, she followed Barlo through the door into a series of hallways, stopping short outside the door marked as Private-Do Not Enter.
* * * *
Sanchez roamed his cage, uneasy. He could sense her. Feel her.
He possessed a mix of sudden and distorted emotions and reflexes. Rage along with anticipation led him to a few seconds of calm before his muscles flexed, his feline legs stretched forward, and his barbed head extended, throbbing with discontentment as his need for his mate registered off the charts.
Sanchez knew she was coming for him. The click of heels snapping against the metal steps left him pricking his ears, looking for her, watching.
Voices moved closer. Sanchez roared, crying out to his mate in hopes she would come to him, come to him in her feline form so they could meet again, greet in a more proper manner, and fuck away any formal need for an introduction.
His echoed call resounded. The voices above him were now muted, practically nonexistent. No, Ariela. No. It’s too dangerous. Keep walking.
For the first time since he’d been held against his will in captivity, Sanchez thought about shifting. He considered throwing himself against the bars, slipping between them regardless of the agonizing electrical shock he would endure, and going to her, saving her.
He could guard her. He would protect her from those who’d tried to destroy him.
“He’s down here,” Barlo said, a light flickering overhead. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“No doubts here.”
“Does Jagger know what you have in mind?”
Again, there was a stall, a delay in pace. “We had an agreement, Barlo. You said you’d free Sanchez long enough for me to see if there’s anything significant between us.”
Barlo laughed. “You can’t be sure he’s a shifter. It’s the curse of the lions in these parts, Ariela. Because of the population in this city and the drought in the desert, the scents are often confusing. You smell man on Sanchez because he’s handled by our trainers. Even I’m not sure if he’s a shifter.”
“He isn’t just a shifter,” Ariela told him. “He’s my mate.”
Sanchez roared again, allowing her to hear him as he called for her.
“And there’s your answer,” Ariela said. “Now leave us. We had a deal.”
“I don’t make deals with women.”
“Then make a deal with a lioness, because I need something you can’t give me.” A whip of wind shot before Sanchez’s cage, and a meandering lioness circled his container in all her magnificent beauty.
Sanchez had never seen such a beautiful animal. Dark tan sprinkles blended with her golden coat. A sleek cat, Ariela sported a lean build. Her posturing was indicative of a lioness with confidence, a shifter with self-assurance.
Teasing him, she circled the box again. He wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth, using the tiny openings in his palate to inhale the full scent of his mate, the woman who’d gone the extra mile to find him when her primal need had reached its peak.
“Give her thirty minutes!” Barlo yelled. “Free Sanchez now.”
An alarm rang out, one that resounded like a bell from one of the old train stations. After a few loud buzzing noises, the gate to his cage lifted and Sanchez was free to pursue his mate.
The half-hour would pass in the blink of an eye. Sanchez met Ariela face to face. They stood mere inches apart before he took a stance, stretching his front legs forward.
Ariela circled him, her tail swishing back and forth. They exchanged a series of snorts and cat calls, low and guttural growls.
Finally, Ariela made her move. The soft kitten nuzzled his face, making a point to keep eye contact.
Wasn’t she frightened? Wasn’t she afraid she might have misunderstood her responses to him, and used poor judgment when she determined he might be her mate? When he was in his human form, he would tell her to never take such a risk again.
Then again, of course she wouldn’t. She belonged to him. In any form, she was his mate.
Ariela nudged his genitals with her head before flattening her tongue next to his sex. Sharp and fierce snarling commenced as ragged breaths fell to the room like forceful strikes on a drum.
Sanchez nuzzled her hips as she crouched before him. Her tail flipped to one side. Her belly flattened against the ground.
He mounted her, nipping her neck, biting at her skin as he sank in quickly, dishing out a series of short thrusts. Ariela snarled, peered over her shoulder and locked eyes with him as he finished inside her, raking the barb across her womb as he retreated with a satisfying finish, a conclusion reached way too soon.
Arrogantly, he returned to his cage, stretched out on his blanket and fanned his tail side-to-side, content for the moment. That satisfaction quickly disintegrated when Ariela shifted, suggesting that their mating would be limited, if it would even occur again.
Chapter Five
“Show me yourself,” Ariela demanded, fingering her extended nipple. “Show me the man, Sanchez.”
She studied his crystal-blue eyes, noting the level of willpower settling there. Did she detect anger as well? Sorrow? What was lingering behind that icy blue coat of armor?
“Did you enjoy me?” She walked closer to the cage. “I know you did. I felt your need just as I feel my own, but it’s not enough. I’m in heat, Sanchez. My breeding bouts make me insatiable
.”
He jerked with understanding, and she smiled. “You like the sound of that?” She brushed her hand across his thick mane and felt his muscles draw tighter as she ran her hand up and down his foreleg.
“I won’t play with you as you are. I won’t stroke or caress you.” She rubbed her tongue across her upper lip and stepped away from the cage. “We’re mates, Sanchez. You’ll crave me after today, you know. We’re mated now, fated to spend all of eternity together.”
He looked away and her heart clenched. He seemed to look beyond the walls imprisoning him, the walls he apparently didn’t mind to see closing around him.
“Who hurt you, Sanchez? Why are you hiding in your lion’s skin when you have so much love to give? I felt that passion.” She cupped her breasts and feathered her fingers over her nipples again. “I know you felt it, too. Now shift. Show me the man. Fuck me in your human form.”
He roared with far too much passion, dropping his head back and ripping free with one hell of a magnificent cry. Ariela didn’t flinch. She refused to move until he was finished. Then she shrugged and said, “I guess you’ve made your decision. You leave me no other choice but to stand by mine.”
Walking away to retrieve her clothes, Ariela made up her mind. If Sanchez wanted to stay in his lion form, she would never permit herself to breed with him again. It was too dangerous and there was too much at risk, particularly since the mating had occurred on another casino owner’s property.
To make matters worse, Jagger didn’t trust Barlo—and for good reason. While following Barlo downstairs, she’d picked up on his lust, smelled his arousal, and there wasn’t any doubt in her mind that he detected hers. The way he looked at her and smacked his lips would’ve drawn more than a lion’s roar of disapproval. If her mates had witnessed his lustful stares, the claws would’ve come out and potential death would’ve loomed.
She hurriedly gathered her slacks, shirt, undergarments and shoes. Dressing around the corner from Sanchez’s cage, she said, “I want to get to know you, Sanchez. Jagger and I are—”
Money Page 3
