Cat of a Different Color: Halle Pumas, Book 3

by Dana Marie Bell

  Yet what else he could have said? Certainly not anything that might even hint at the feelings congealed in his throat. Not that there was emotion involved here except attraction.

  He watched as she gave his words some thought, then a slow, tentative smile came across her face, and she hugged the book closer. That smile curled up in his chest. Nested there. Daniel had a sudden urge to sprint for the door.

  During the drive Felicity was silent, content to stare out the window at the old buildings that lined St. Clair Ave. West. She loved the vibrancy of the neighborhood with its mix of trendy bars, boutiques and old-fashioned fruit stands and butcher shops. It was home. She’d put down roots here. Finally.

  Besides, window-shopping gave her something to do, since Daniel didn’t seem inclined to make conversation over the music spilling from the radio. Instead he nodded his head and tapped the steering wheel to the selection of songs, while singing snatches off-key. And under his breath, thankfully.

  She was supposedly tagging along to pick out a showerhead of preference. But it felt like a date. Felicity started nibbling on her hangnail collection. “Why not?” he’d asked. And her belly had slithered down to her ankles and wrapped itself around them, while her next heartbeat played hide and seek.

  He was the candy in the jar that had been moved down to eye-level and he was telling her to reach right in and grab a handful…of his licorice.

  Felicity had never grabbed for anything in her life. It had always been a struggle just to keep up. Yet things had changed in the last year—she’d finally found the strength to leave Stuart and then the tutoring had come through. So…

  She glanced sideways at Daniel’s profile, softened by the sensuality of his mouth and thick sweep of lashes and thought, why not, indeed?

  Then she started thinking about his gumballs.

  When they arrived at Home Depot, Daniel parked the truck before hopping out and quickly making his way to her side of the cab to see her out. Felicity took his hand and was rewarded with a current of awareness that shot up her spine and smacked her in the back of her head.

  After that, she kept some distance between them as they walked towards the store. So much for gumballs. Jawbreakers was more like it.

  Once inside the store, she looked around the cavernous warehouse with avid curiosity. She was probably the only person on the face of the planet who hadn’t set foot in a Home Depot, but there was never any need to before.

  She followed Daniel down the aisle, past displays of every gadget, tool and material needed to build, fix, decorate or destroy, and a jumble of ideas raced through her mind.

  Excitement slowed her step as she took it all in, then she took a deep breath of the lumber-scented air…and fell in love. Now this, this was a candy store.

  Felicity hurried to catch up as Daniel disappeared around a corner. Luckily his tall, broad-shouldered physique made him stand out amongst the Saturday-morning crowd milling around.

  As she came up beside him, she tugged on his sleeve. “Can we see what they’re doing over there?”

  Daniel glanced over at the demonstration taking place. “Sure.” Indulgence curved his mouth and she felt an answering warmth flutter in her stomach.

  Felicity turned away from that look, that smile, but she couldn’t get away from his hand that landed lightly on her back, guiding her forward. Heat radiated from his touch, spreading outward along her limbs.

  It was almost impossible to concentrate on the expert’s instructions with Daniel standing behind her. She moved slightly to the right, his hand moved to her hip. She stepped forward, his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  She kept fidgeting until Daniel leaned forward and spoke low in her ear, “If you’re really interested in this, we’re doing some tile work at one of the job sites. I could pick you up one day and bring you by.”

  Felicity swung her head around. This close to him, she noticed the gold-dusted tips of his darker lashes. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She watched his lips, inches from her own, shape the word and felt his breath like a kiss.

  Abruptly, Felicity faced front again and took a deep calming breath. But images of a bare-chested, tool-belted Daniel kept dancing through her head.

  Will you get real! Felicity could almost hear Cheryl’s no-nonsense voice. She blinked, and the vision of some fat guy with plumber’s bum—oily pimples, hairs and all—lumbered into her imagination. Her pulse slowed some.

  “That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Do I look like a guy who’s looking for trouble?” he asked dryly. To her relief he straightened and moved back to guide her through the crush of bodies. “Let’s go find that showerhead.”

  They came to the selection of bathroom accessories and Daniel picked a box from the shelf.

  “Master Stroke 2000, flexible spray nozzle, three-way adjustable head.” He paused, looking up with a decidedly wicked glint in his eyes. “How about it, you interested in a three way?”

  “No thank you.” Blushing, she pointed to another model. “This one looks fine.”

  He moved closer and the faint scent of citrus that emanated from him became stronger. “Hmmm…adjustable spray prohibits calcium buildup.” He shook his head. “Naw”, then his interest shifted to a different package. “Maybe…The Invigorator?”

  Bending forward he noted the various features. “‘You never dreamed water could do this before. Enjoy the total satisfaction of phenomenal power at work.’” He glanced at her and her nipples power-constricted into two tingling vortexes of phenomenal pleasure. Felicity mouth-breathed as Daniel continued.

  “‘Your body will be revitalized by the warm, sensual, pulsating spray—’”

  “I don’t need my body revitalized, thank you. Just clean. Here, I’ll take this one.” She grabbed another model. It didn’t matter which one. Daniel didn’t even touch the box.

  “‘Eco-friendly, low-flow ceramic valving’,” he read the specs off in a monotone. “Borrring.”

  “Look, I like boring, and energy efficient and-and…”

  “Liar.” His voice dipped. “You don’t like boring. Not with that mouth,” he said baldly, barbecuing her on the spot with the heat in his gaze.

  Before she could catch her breath he switched gears on her again, his mouth curling in mischief. “So you wouldn’t—” he looked down at the package he held, “‘—enjoy a deep, throbbing, fully satisfying massage to all the key areas of your body’?”

  “Throbbing?” she sputtered, very aware of the parts of her that fit that description right now.

  He raised his eyebrows innocently.

  “The head is extra large.”

  “Okay, fine! I’ll take it!” Felicity shoved the package into his arms. He was obviously determined to continue along this vein.

  As they went around to pick up a few other items, she found herself smiling. She liked his teasing, almost as much as she liked him intense and bent on seduction.

  Although “like” seemed a wishy-washy way to describe what she felt when he focused his molten green gaze on her. Her smile disappeared.

  Suddenly she was crazy with awareness of his large presence beside her, brushing against her with every other step and the peek-a-boo whiffs of his cologne that tantalized her. She had to get away.

  As they neared the cash registers the rich aroma of coffee wafting through the air offered her perfect excuse.

  “I’ll be back in a second.” She didn’t wait for his answer before beating a hasty retreat for the snack bar.

  While Daniel paid for the purchases, she bought two coffees, then met up with him at the exit. She offered him one of the cups. “Black?”

  “Thanks. How did you know?”

  “I didn’t.” She pulled some sugar packets and creamers from her pocket with an impish grin.

  Deep down inside, though, she had a glow of satisfaction. How could she explain the odd times she’d found herself thinking he would like a certain
type of food, or music or that his favorite color was— “Blue?”

  “Blue?”

  “Your favorite color. You look like a blue type of guy.”

  His smiled hitched her heartbeat. “That’s my second favorite.” He started walking.

  Feeling a little disappointed and foolish, she couldn’t help asking, “So what is your first?”

  “Gray. Silvery, like lake-water on a cloudy day.”

  She made a face. Color me shades of depression. Oh please.

  The drive back home was a repeat of the drive over, only this time with Billie Holiday singing variations on his second favorite color all the way.

  They turned onto Southview Blvd. As they drove under the leafy canopy of mature trees a sense of security softly cloaked her. That it was all the sweeter because she was with Daniel didn’t bear closer inspection.

  He pulled into the driveway, parked, then reached into the back seat. Without thinking, she turned also, coffee in hand.

  He swung around again with the shopping bag.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Pure reflex made her jerk back against the door, extending her arm as far away from her own body as possible.

  Which, coincidentally, happened to be in the vicinity of right-smack-damn over Daniel’s body.

  The cup came to life in her hand, bouncing off each finger in mid-air, then coffee——black, two sugars——splashed down in a steaming waterfall.

  “Son of a bitch!” Daniel reared back, dropping the bag, hands in the air. “Awh, fuck!”

  She watched in horror as the dark brown stains blossomed on his shirt and khakis.

  “Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

  Felicity fumbled in her pocket for some napkins she’d taken from the coffee kiosk. The two crumpled specimens she pulled out were pathetic, but she attempted to sop up some of the damage anyway.

  Daniel clamped her wrist in an iron grip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  She froze under his glare. “The coffee stain—I was just trying to help.”

  “Don’t. Help.” He shifted gingerly in his seat, grimacing. “Jesus,” he said in an almost tortured whisper.

  Felicity looked down at his lap and comprehension dawned.

  “Oh.”

  Love is mightier than the sword…

  Dunmore Rising

  © 2008 Gia Dawn

  Demons of Dunmore, book 4.

  Sir Graham Dunmore is looking forward to competing in his first summer tournament—until he gets saddled with babysitting a prince in disguise, three fairy-godmothers he would much rather see fly back to where they came from, and a woman for a squire. Gone for years, Jiliana is now back in Westmyre, older, colder, with a lethal fighting skill that leaves him both impressed and intrigued.

  Jili doesn’t recognize this sleek, well-trained man as the awkward friend from her youth. But seeing Graham again brings back painful memories of a brutal past. One that forces her to live a life of tight control, lest one slip unleash a deadly monster capable of hurting everyone in her path.

  Yet as Graham patiently teaches her the arts of love, Jili has a glimmer of hope that she can finally control the killer that lurks inside her—until a ninja assassin begins to stalk the tournament.

  With a heavy heart, she realizes Graham is going to need every skill she possesses to protect the prince—the very skills that could tear them apart forever.

  Warning: This title contains cranky fairies, a gorgeous hero, and a heroine who just about kicks his ass…plus really sizzling sex told in naughty language.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Dunmore Rising:

  Jiliana trembled when she caught the look of hunger etched across Graham’s face. On another man it would have sent her running for her katana. On another man it would have made her shudder in fear. But Graham’s expression made her want him to wrap her in the strength of his arms and never let her go.

  The temptation was brutal. She couldn’t resist. “If I don’t like it we can stop anytime? You swear?”

  They had played this game before, she remembered with a catch in her heart as she held up her pinkie. Graham encircled it with his own, the huge finger dwarfing hers.

  He nodded solemnly.

  “And I can keep all my clothes on?”

  “Every stitch.”

  She wanted to make some joke, tell some ribald story to break the odd mood that had settled between them, but her mouth would not form the words, her mind refusing to think of anything but how it would feel to have Graham touch her.

  “Done,” she whispered.

  “Done,” Graham repeated. He stretched out beside her on the bed, his head propped on one folded arm, smiling ruefully when she wiped his chest off with a cloth. He studied her for long moments and she grew disconcerted beneath the heavy weight of his gaze.

  As she opened her mouth to protest, he reached out and trailed his fingers across her cheek, letting them linger on the scar that cut across her jaw before tugging on a lock of her hair.

  “Ever been well and truly kissed?” When she shook her head, his grin grew sinful. “Okay then, what an excellent place to start.”

  The tug on her hair grew more insistent, dragging her head toward his. When his mouth connected solidly with hers, Jiliana’s world melted like ice in the sun. The desire she had felt before paled to embers beside the fire that burned inside her now. Graham pulled her beside him, positioning her so that every inch of her body was cradled by every inch of his. His cock swelled against her stomach, giving her a momentary shiver of alarm, but as his lips slid over hers and his hand cupped her chin, she gave herself over to the wonder of it all.

  Until she realized that instead of easing the brutal ache that gripped her body, his kiss was making the agony grow. When she opened her mouth to tell him so in no uncertain terms, he thrust his tongue between her lips, this new invasion wringing a desperate whimper from her throat.

  Jiliana wasn’t stupid, nor had she spent her life locked away in the church. She’d seen people kiss, even watched them couple furtively in dark alleys and shadowed corners, turning away in disgust when her memories pressed too close. But she’d never felt anything that remotely resembled this shock of need that swept up from her stomach. The burn between her legs slammed over her in waves, reaching, waiting, grasping desperately for something she could barely put a name to.

  His tongue teased hers, slid in and back again. Jiliana let her own tongue explore, writhing in a sweep of bliss when Graham sucked it deep into his mouth. They challenged and warred with each other, each strike and parry measured to make the other tremble and shake.

  When he dragged his mouth away, she buried her face in his neck, unwilling to let him see how far she had already fallen. He rolled her over on her back, his breath as harsh and labored as hers. “You learn fast,” he gritted out.

  The pleased sound that bubbled up from her chest ended in a gasp as Graham’s hand closed around her breast. What torture had he devised to torment her with now? When he found her nipple and rolled it gently between his fingers, Jiliana jumped, her cry of need hanging harsh in the air between them.

  “Shhhhhh,” he whispered, pinching harder, making her scream again.

  “Ahhhhhh.” She sucked in her breath as a new madness overtook her. Despite her earlier admonitions, she now wanted to rip off every piece of clothing she wore and feel his skin against hers.

  But he had yet to do the thing he promised. Instead of easing her need, so far he had only driven it higher. The pain shot deep into her body, causing an unfamiliar emptiness.

  “Please, Graham,” she begged, ashamed of the desperation she heard in her tone. “Please.” She ground her hips insistently against his, hoping something would soothe the overwhelming ache.

  One of his hands slid down her stomach to nudge apart her thighs, settling heavy between them. For the briefest instant the old fear rose up, but in the rush of her need, it was quickly forgotten.

  Bu
rrowing his fingers into the folds of her flesh, Graham began to rub a spot that was far more sensitive than the others. “What do they call this in Eastshyre?” he demanded.

  “The g-golden p-p-pearl.” Jiliana’s cries grew louder as he pressed the knot between his fingers, teasing the tender spot until she thought the pain would never end. Deep inside her body the emptiness cried out, the long years of aloneness demanding to be filled. She wiggled against Graham’s hand, praying his touch would soothe her soon.

  She was reaching for something…some place she’d never imagined, and she could feel herself creeping closer to the edge, tottering on the brink, ready to fall, ready to float, but she could not fling herself over the line to the bliss that waited in the other side.

  “Jili.” Graham’s voice was concerned as he drew back to look at her. “’Tis all right to let go. I promise to catch you.” He deepened the pressure between her legs, his fingers finding her cunt and nudging just a bit inside, as far as the material of her hakama would allow.

  Jiliana knew what she wanted. What she had to have to make her pleasure complete. Graham inside her…his fingers parting her body, filling her, taking her. She pulled his face to hers. “This is not enough,” she whimpered against his mouth.

  Graham captured her lips in another kiss as he bent her knee and draped her leg over his. He slid his hand inside one leg of her hakama, the feel of his skin against hers driving her hunger even higher.

  “Is this what you need?” he demanded.

  She nodded, mutely. His hand slid higher, coming to rest just beside the juncture of her thigh. “And this?”

  She nodded again, unable to speak, wanting nothing more than to feel his mouth hard on hers and his fingers thrust inside her. Despite all her earlier cautions and despite her earlier hesitation, she wanted—needed—to feel Graham reach high into her body, soothing the space that waited so ready for his touch.