Cecile went quiet then, and for a time she seemed deep in thought. Nash took the opportunity to watch her as she rode. Her seat was confident, and he could see a good deal of evidence that she’d been on horses before. The first clue was always to watch a person’s pelvis; if it moved in rhythm with the horse’s motion, there was a good chance that they knew what they were doing. Her thighs clung to the saddle just enough to hold on should Daisy bolt, but she was relaxed and comfortable.
If ever a woman wanted to know if she’s sexy while straddling a horse, thought Nash, the answer is an indisputable yes. It was very hard to watch a hot woman put her thighs around something like a leather saddle and not to picture himself under her, being ridden, her pelvis moving into his own, grinding their bodies together. Those hips…
“Yeah,” he muttered, his mind gone.
“You’re a million miles away, aren’t you?” asked Cecile, her sly smile returning to her lips.
“I was just thinking it’s been a long time since I’ve gone riding with anyone.”
“And?”
“I really like the company.”
Two
During the course of their time together, the two spoke of their childhoods; Nash’s, spent at the ranch learning independence and how to be a protector and Cecile’s. She and her younger sister had spent their youth largely with their mother, who sounded like a kind and patient woman who nevertheless had an independent spirit which she’d imparted to her daughters.
Cecile’s sister, Estée, had kept in touch with her older sibling during the course of her travels, but not with her father. Whereas Cecile felt a need to stay close to home and to protect Conrad Malcolm in her own way, despite his coldness, Estee had wanted quite desperately to flee and had done it.
“I envy her,” Cecile had said. “She’s done what I was too afraid to do.”
“You’ve done what she’s afraid to do, too,” said Nash. “You’ve stayed behind. You look after your father. She ran away, but you performed a duty. That’s not always the easiest thing.”
Cecile smiled at him then, a warmth lighting her face. His earnest nature filled her with a sort of fondness, as though she’d known him all her life. There was in him all the comfort of a hearth on a winter’s day, and she felt safe and free in his presence, somehow, as though nothing in the world could touch her. Except, in a perfect world, for him.
The two spoke, laughed and joked as they went. Nash remarked internally that he was unaccustomed to feeling so comfortable with anyone. As a man who enjoyed solitude, he was surprised to discover how much more pleasant the company of a witty, beautiful woman could be.
They reached the deep valley that Nash was aiming for after a few hours of riding. It dipped between two mountains which flanked his family’s and the neighbours’ properties, and in the summer, the ranch next door’s longhorn cattle would often migrate to the area to graze. It was the most peaceful place that Nash knew, and something that morning had made him want to show it to Cecile.
“Do you want to dismount for a little?” he asked her as she looked at the view.
“Sure. Will the horses be all right?”
“We’ll tie them up for a few minutes.”
He dismounted first then, holding Daisy’s reins, watched Cecile get down. She was amazingly agile, particularly, he thought, for a bigger girl. There was a strength about her that drew Nash to her; he wanted to ask more questions, to understand her. But a voice warned him off it, telling him that it was best not to gain an intimate knowledge of this daughter of a wealthy mogul. It wouldn’t end well, he knew.
He tied the horses’ reins to a nearby tree, giving them enough slack to dip their heads down and chew on the bits of tall, dry grasses poking up from beneath the snow.
He and Cecile trudged through the crisp white surface, which had a top layer that crunched beneath their boot-clad feet. They came to a stream and Nash crouched down to take a handful of water in his hand.
“Have some,” he said. “It’s amazing.”
Cecile took off her glove and put her hand next to his, between the large pieces of ice that covered the gently flowing water. As she came into contact with his cold skin, she felt herself shiver. But it wasn’t a physical chill; it was that a shot of warmth made its way through her bloodstream and told her what she’d already suspected:
She would have to find a way to be with this man. It was as though the simplest notion in the world had made its way into her mind and she was now enlightened.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said, bringing her cupped hand to her mouth. That was strange. Good strange. Very good.
Nash stood again and Cecile followed suit, looking around, wondering if her cheeks were red. If they were, at least she could blame the cold. She could also blame it for her hard nipples. Unfortunately, she couldn’t attribute what was going on between her legs to the chilly air, though.
Wow.
The lion turned the tiger on more than anyone she’d ever met.
“So this is where I’ve come since I was a kid, to get away from it all,” Nash said, his eyes scanning the mountain range before him.
“Get away? You sound like a tired old day trader in the middle of Manhattan.”
“Yeah well, when you’re a kid growing up on a ranch, you work your butt off. It’s nice to run away sometimes.”
“I wish I could run away,” said Cecile, her voice transforming for the first time to something serious and distant, as though she was only now becoming fully herself and opening up to Nash.
“Why don’t you?” he asked. He only realized a moment later that he’d taken a step towards her as if to protect her from falling.
She turned her eyes to his. “I can’t. I…”
Just then, Flak let out a loud whinny. Nash’s head jolted in the direction of the horses and he looked beyond them. In the distance, towards the other end of the valley, he saw a commotion.
“Is that a wolf?” asked Cecile.
“I think so. And there’s something else too.”
Before Cecile could say anything else, Nash was running, tearing at his clothes. He removed each piece with rapid precision, leaving a trail behind him. Before she knew it, Cecile was staring at the back of an incredibly well-built, incredibly naked man. His muscles rippled as he sprinted.
“Oh my,” she whispered.
The bronze human shifted into a large, muscular lion and ran at full speed towards the wolf, and Cecile followed in human form, gathering his clothing and turning towards the horses. Nash, she had no doubt, would look after the situation. He was larger than the other animal and no doubt much more powerful.
She untied the horses and led them towards the fray. The lion, she saw, had chased the wolf off and was now sniffing at something that lay on the ground.
When Cecile got closer she saw that it was a calf. Nash, crouching over it now in human form, had a look of worry about him.
“How did that get here?” she asked.
“He must have strayed from the herd. The owners are probably out looking for the little guy.”
The calf was bleeding but alive, calm, his breath coming out in snorts. It was clear that he was in pain but his life didn’t seem under direct threat from his wounds.
“We should get him to his home,” said Nash. “Are you up for more riding?”
Cecile, who was trying to avoid looking at the muscular form before her, said simply, “Yes.”
“Do you think I could have my clothes?” Nash was almost smiling now as he stood up, exposing himself to her.
Hell no, she thought even as she handed them over. Her eyes were sliding, slipping, easing their way down his body. Just as she got to his belly she stopped. In her periphery she could see what lay between his legs; a beautiful, mouth-watering sight; but she forced herself not to stare at it. She knew by now its impressive size and worried that if she looked directly at it she’d fall to her knees before him and begin to eat him up.
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My God, she thought.
She wanted to touch him as someone wants to stroke a piece of silk, to see what it feels like.
Cecile forced herself to look away at last, realizing how offended most women would be to be sized up in the way that she was doing now.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just not used to having hot naked men in front of me these days.”
“They’re usually behind you, are they?”
“Ha. They’re usually invisible. Or, more likely, non-existent.”
Nash pulled his jeans on and when he’d covered himself, he delicately lifted the calf over the pommel of his saddle.
“Sorry, buddy,” he said. “Hopefully this won’t take long.”
Cecile held the calf still while Nash mounted, and then they began the walk to the ranch. Though it bordered the Richardson property, the house was several miles from their current location and their ride took longer than it should have due to the snow-covered terrain and the injured calf, who managed to remain calm throughout.
Cecile and Nash spoke little on the ride. He was thinking, she could tell, and something in his demeanour made her reluctant to ask questions.
When at last they arrived, Nash dismounted and pulled the calf down. It wasn’t bleeding a great deal from the wound in its shoulder but, he knew, it was in pain.
The rancher, Frank, was outside doing some work when he saw Nash.
“Young Richardson!” he shouted. “It’s been a dog’s age. What have you got there?”
His eyes went wide as Nash approached and he noticed his calf.
Cecile dismounted and led the horses over to the two men, who were engaged in quick conversation.
“No,” Nash was saying. “It wasn’t a pack wolf. It was a shifter.”
This was the first Cecile had heard this about the encounter.
“What?” she said, unintentionally butting into the conversation.
“That wolf was a shifter. I saw his eyes. And he was too big to just be an animal.”
“Why on earth would a shifter go attacking my herd?” asked Frank.
“I don’t know,” said Nash. “But it doesn’t bode well. You’d best get them corralled until we know what’s going on. Do you have any enemies?”
Frank laughed, but Nash’s face remained serious.
“Enemies? Hell no. Margaret and I have been here for decades and we get on with everyone.”
“It would seem that not everyone agrees with you,” said Nash.
Frank scratched the white stubble on his chin. “Well, this isn’t great,” he said.
Frank and his wife Margaret were human. They were some of the few locals left who’d happily integrated the new residents into the fold, having spent years of their lives around members of the wolf pack. They’d fought for equal rights for shifters, even, and if anything were well-loved by all.
“Listen, Frank, we’re going to work on figuring this out,” said Nash. “I’ll go talk to the pack. As far as I know, every wolf shifter around Wolf Rock is a member, though I haven’t been around here much lately so who knows what’s going on? Meanwhile, you hang tight. Let us know if anything else happens. And call the vet for this little guy.” He put a gentle hand on the calf’s head. “He needs some pain meds, at least.”
“Of course,” said Frank. “I’ll call your folks if I see anything else.”
Cecile and Nash mounted up once again and took the dirt road back to the Richardson ranch.
“What do you think might be going on?” she asked him.
“I really couldn’t say. I’ve never seen anything like that. Shifters fight shifters, and shifters hunt. But they don’t go after livestock.”
“No,” said Cecile. “They don’t.”
This time it was Nash who noticed a change in her demeanour. The woman who’d been energetic and happy an hour earlier now looked pensive, almost sullen. Something was going on in her mind, and it made him uneasy.
“Cecile,” Nash said, “I want you to tell me if you know something I don’t.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said. “It’s only a hunch and I don’t think it’s smart to share it right now. You go ahead and investigate. Maybe you can figure this thing out.”
“Fine,” said Nash. “But you come to me if you find anything out, you hear me?”
Something in his tone jarred Cecile. She felt that he was issuing an order, and she found herself surprised. And yet, he was exhibiting the tendencies of an alpha. Cecile began to understand why she was so drawn to him. He was strong-willed, powerful and protective. And she found herself indisputably pulled towards him as though he had his own gravitational force.
But she was not good at being told what to do; not at all.
At the back of her mind, she knew that she feared that he would discover all that she knew. This—shifters attacking unprovoked—all felt too familiar, somehow.
This wasn’t the first time Cecile had seen it. It was time to talk to her father.
Three
Cecile entered her father’s chalet within an hour. Susannah, the woman who’d been her nanny all through her childhood, greeted her. She was a shifter herself; a puma who’d all but raised Cecile and her younger sister, Estée. Their father had kept her on through the years to take care of the house, which really meant taking care of his daughters as he moved further and further away from the girls. Cecile credited Susannah with everything good in her own personality, and blamed her father for anything that was wrong with her.
“Well, howdy, sunshine. How was your morning?” the puma shifter asked as she put down the load of laundry that she was carrying. Before Cecile could reply, Susannah smiled and said, “It was good. I see that.”
The nanny had always had a knack for spotting any subtle changes in Cecile’s demeanour. It was her gift; almost as though she were reading the young woman’s mind. There was hardly even a point in telling her anything because she could usually guess what was up.
“You’re right about that. It was good,” she replied with deliberate coyness.
“You’ve met a man,” said Susannah, poking at Cecile’s side as she used to do when they were younger, as though to tickle her.
“I don’t know how you do that, Sue, but yeah, I met a man.”
“And he’s gorrrr-geous, isn’t he? A shifter too, by the looks of things.”
Cecile looked down at her body as though to check and see if she had the words “I met a lion shifter who makes me mad with horniness” scrawled on her clothing.
“He’s not bad.”
“Not bad! You, my dear, are taken with him. I know you are. And you’re wondering if he wants you. I can’t say, of course. Still, don’t you forget to groom your mango before you see him again.”
“Susannah!” laughed Cecile. “Dirty girl.”
“I may be dirty, but you’d best not be. You show up with your tiger lily all tidied for the nice boy and I bet he’ll eat you up like a ripe papaya.”
“What would my father say if he heard you talking like this?”
“He’d most likely keel over from a heart attack. But this isn’t about him. So what is he? A wolf? Lots of those around here.”
“A lion.”
“Mmmm, a lion. Oh my. You know what they say about lions.”
“What’s that?”
“Once you go lion, you never walk without crutches again.”
“Is that your way of saying they’re well-endowed?” Cecile thought about what she’d already seen between Nash’s legs. If his member pre-arousal was anything to go by, yes indeed. Lions were impressively gifted. For a moment her mind wandered to what it might look like when fully engorged. Between her legs, a pang of soft pain shot through her nerve endings.
“Just speakin’ from my own experience,” continued Susannah. “When I was young I knew a lion. His parts were majestic, if you know what I’m sayin’. King of the jungle and the locker room, I tell you.”
“You’re awful.”
“And you’re awful horny. Good luck with it, sweetie.”
“Thanks, darlin’. We’ll see what happens.”
Cecile left Susannah to her chores and wandered into the dining room, where she found her father sitting at the sprawling dining table, which was large enough for fourteen people, reading a newspaper.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“I told you yesterday, dad. I went horseback riding.”
Her father put the paper down on the table then laid his palms flat. His face was stern and serious for a moment and then softened.
“Of course,” he said. “I completely forgot that you were to go out this morning. And how was it?”
“It was beautiful. Until we saw an animal attack a calf,” she said. “In the distance. A wolf. We think it was a shifter.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous. Shifters don’t do those sorts of things.”
“Don’t they?” Cecile approached her father now, studying his face for signs of weakness. “Don’t you recall that happening years ago, in Riverside?”
“Now that you mention it, I suppose it does sound familiar. Yes. There was that string of attacks back home. Still, that was a fluke. Some madman on a power trip.”
“The police thought it was more than a madman,” said Cecile. “If I remember correctly, they thought it was someone trying pretty hard to convince everyone that they should be frightened of shifters. He was looking to find a way to extract money from them. And they suspected that he wasn’t working alone.”
“Stuff and nonsense. It was one man and I believe they caught him, just as they’ll do here.”
“If you say so, dad,” Cecile said, willing to surrender for the moment to her father’s unrelenting stubbornness, and hoping that in fact he had nothing to do with any of it. “All right. By the way, I intend to go riding again. I may even make a weekly habit of it.”
Her father picked up the paper again and began to read. “That’s nice, dear,” he said.
“There’s a young man on the ranch. A lion shifter called Nash. I think I might ask him out.” She thought for a moment before adding, “No. More than that, I think he may be my mate.”
To Lie With Lions: A BBW Shifter Romance (Wolf Rock Shifters Book 4) Page 3
