Taming the Lion Read online

  “I saw you. This morning when I was coming back from my run. You really shouldn’t shove your tongue down her throat on her doorstep if you’re trying to make a clean getaway. Sir.” She used exactly the same inflection he used when he made that honorary into a “you fucking idiot” for the Alpha’s benefit.

  He didn’t owe her an explanation. It wasn’t any of Grace’s business who he was sleeping with.

  Except he was the Alpha’s heir. And when he’d agreed to that, he’d agreed to give up a certain amount of privacy. Agreed that his life would belong to the pride. Be their business as much as his own.

  So he tried to find the right words. “It isn’t serious. Just one last fling.”

  “No offense, sir, but I know what flings look like and that isn’t what I saw this morning.”

  “It doesn’t change anything. I’m still marrying Lila.”

  “Does she know?”

  “She gave her blessing.” To Patch. Not to him. He hadn’t even mentioned it to her. Somehow his relationship with Patch had felt too personal to share with Lila. And how fucked up was that? “It’s just for while she’s in heat,” he said, though he hadn’t even thought of the fact that this had all started because of her heat in days.

  “With all due respect, Roman, I’m not an idiot. What I am is a shifter medic, so believe it or not, I actually know what a feline in heat acts like and Patch hasn’t been on that particular roller coaster for several days at the very least.”

  Not since that first night, he realized. On some level, he’d already known.

  He’d kept thinking of her when she wasn’t around, wanting to seek her out when he hadn’t been around her for hours—that wasn’t behavior spurred on by pheromone intoxication. That was something else entirely. Something he’d been trying to ignore.

  He was very good at compartmentalizing. Very good at putting feelings he wasn’t ready to deal with in a box. So good he hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

  He was about to be tied to her best friend for the rest of his life. It was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone else. He’d told himself it was just chemical. Her heat. He’d told himself to stay away from her until the hormones were under control, but he’d kept seeking her out despite all his best intentions. They’d both been swearing up and down that it didn’t mean anything—right up until it started to.

  And then it had been the elephant in the room. The one they’d both gotten very good at ignoring.

  He was in love with Patch.

  Which didn’t change a goddamn thing.

  Pride first.

  He looked up at Grace, seeing his knowledge reflected there. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Patch was working her way through her third pint with Santiago when her phone buzzed on her hip. Text message. She fished out her cell while Santiago stared broodingly into his own beer—he’d always been a brooder, but he’d really upped his game tonight.

  The message from Roman consisted of two words: Grace knows.

  “Shit.”

  Santiago looked up, arching a brow in question. “What’s shit?”

  “Just a sec,” she put him off, typing in a reply as rapidly as her thumbs would allow. Kye suspects.

  The response was immediate. I’ll talk to him. Then: Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.

  Of course he would. The king of the universe didn’t ask for help. All problems were his and his alone to solve. Patch tossed her phone onto the bar in disgust.

  “Is it Lila?” Santiago asked.

  “Not this time,” she admitted, as Whiskey strolled back to check on them. “Whiskey, how do you keep a secret in this pride?”

  “Sorry?”

  “When you were sleeping with Roman, how did you keep the whole pride from finding out about it?”

  Santiago’s head swung toward Whiskey. “You were sleeping with Roman?”

  “It was ages ago.”

  “And this is exactly my point.” Patch pointed to Santiago’s stunned expression. “No one knew. How did you keep it a secret for so long?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I know you told me, but that was after the fact. And I don’t mean how did you avoid telling everyone how awesome he is in bed—” Though Patch certainly understood the urge to brag. The man knew what he was doing and then some. “I mean, how come no one spotted you coming and going from his place?”

  “I never went to his place, but if you mean how come he was never spotted coming and going from mine, I think you can attribute that to extreme paranoia on his part. He was freakishly careful that we never be seen.”

  “What do you mean you never went to his place?” Santiago asked.

  “Roman’s place is like his secret lair or something. He’s insanely protective of it. Never takes anyone there. I’m not even sure I know where it is,” Whiskey admitted.

  Patch frowned. That couldn’t be right. He’d taken her there that first night. Dragged her there, across half the pride compound. Why would he do that if it were so private? So secret?

  Admittedly, they hadn’t been back there since then, but that was more a function of the fact that he’d been coming to her in her bungalow as soon as he was done working every night.

  “I guess the answer to your question is that I didn’t keep the secret,” Whiskey said. “Roman did. He’d never touch me in public. Never treated me any differently than anyone else. And he never spent the night. Not that I wanted him to. We were both very non-possessive of one another. If that’s a word. Is non-possessive a word?”

  Patch tuned out as Santiago and Whiskey veered into a debate of which non-words really ought to be words.

  Non-possessive. That didn’t sound right either. Roman was extremely possessive. And not touching her in public? Try guiding her around the corner of the dining hall with a hand on her arm, dragging her back to his bungalow by the wrist, or just this morning kissing her on her doorstep even as she’d tried to shove him out the door, his hands taking in every inch of her he could reach. Where was distant, doesn’t-stay-the-night Roman then?

  Could it be that she was special to him? That he lost all caution when she was near?

  She wanted that to be the truth. But what had Roman said? You couldn’t trust your gut when you wanted something to be true. She couldn’t trust her gut this time. Her heart was in the way.

  “Sir.” Just past nine, another firm knock came at his door as the shifter was entering—but this time it wasn’t Grace.

  Roman stood from his desk, flipping his laptop closed. “Kye. Just the man I’d been hoping to see.”

  The leopard cut him off, a thread of excitement running through his usually carefully controlled voice. “It’s Mateo. He’s got something.”

  Roman’s smile was fierce. “Show me.”

  Kye jerked his head toward the bunker. They ran.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  He hadn’t come.

  Patch had staggered back to her room—slightly the worse for four pints of the stout—intent on waiting up for Roman and confessing her feelings to him—which had sounded like a brilliant idea when she was three sheets—but for the first time since they’d begun…whatever it was they’d begun, he hadn’t come.

  Hadn’t even texted to let her know he wasn’t coming.

  This was it then. The end of the affair. It had been about a week—like they’d initially agreed. But she’d thought he would at least say goodbye. He’d said he was handling Grace and Kye. This must be what he’d meant. Cut her off, problem solved.

  She’d had half a mind to go to his place last night when he hadn’t come to hers—but the beer had other ideas and she’d passed out cold, not waking up until the sun was up. Her stomach was reminding her why overindulging when her body chemistry wasn’t jacked up by the heat was always a bad idea and there was a funky taste in her mouth that wouldn’t quite go away no matter how many times she brushed her teeth.

  Right now she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him. Didn�
��t know what she would say if she did.

  Patch got dressed and headed over to the dining hall, looking for something useful to do. For the last few days she’d been helping the other outliers move in and get settled, as well as easing the way for some of the new folks from the south who weren’t used to pride living. It had kept her busy enough, but she’d need to find a real job before long. She sure as hell couldn’t go back to hers. It would be way too easy for the Organization to book a hike with her and then make sure she never made it back. So easy she almost wondered why they hadn’t tried it in the past.

  Unless her connection to Lone Pine gave them pause. The Organization primarily targeted lone shifters and isolated family groups—no packs, no prides, no herds. At least not until the supposed incident in Texas when they’d gone after a pair of lions at the heart of the Three Rocks Pride. So why the escalation now? Perhaps they’d only just discovered the prides and packs. Or they could’ve been giving them a wide berth for years, knowing that a hunting party would be the natural response to any injury to a pride member.

  Lots of shifters in Lone Pine had been touched by the Organization—Patch’s missing parents, Mateo’s sister, Dominec’s sanity—but that had all happened before they were affiliated with Lone Pine. Were they truly protected here? Or was it pure chance?

  Or was the Organization practicing on smaller targets, working their way up to the pride?

  She’d long since missed the first breakfast rush, but a small crowd remained, mingling in front of the dining hall. Mostly faces she knew, or was coming to know—including the two new male cougar shifters Lila had been so eager for her to meet. They were completely gorgeous, Lila had been right about that. They were also completely gay and completely in love.

  Patch joined the edge of the group, nodding a greeting and listening to the hot gossip in the pride this morning—which, thank God, was not about the fact that the Alpha’s heir was banging a cougar. It seemed news of the hawk shifter had finally filtered down to the domestic ranks and they were on fire with speculation about who he was and what he wanted. Lone Pine had never had a bird shifter before.

  “Patch. A word.”

  Her head whipped around at that voice. Roman stood a few feet away, in full imperious ruler-of-the-universe mode. Her heart accelerated at the sight of him. Stupid heart. The big strong Alpha’s heir had his arms folded across his big, manly chest and his feet braced wide, waiting for her to come running at his call, no doubt.

  She considered telling him where he could shove his word, but they had an audience and disobedience from her would be even more gossip-worthy than him seeking her out and demanding her time. So she smiled sweetly and cooed, “Of course, Roman, what can I do for you?” as she broke away from the crowd.

  He gestured for her to precede him away from the eager ears of the pride and as she obediently passed him, she noticed the lines of fatigue on his face. Good. She hoped he hadn’t slept a second without her.

  This was probably it. The official break-up. Of course he’d do it in public. She couldn’t make a scene in full view of the pride. Not that she was the scene-making type to begin with, but judging by the feral emotion churning in her chest, she wasn’t sure what she would have done if he’d told her in private. Maybe it was a good thing he was doing it like this.

  They walked in silence for a hundred feet, not touching, though she was excruciatingly aware of his bulk behind her, the heat of him.

  They rounded a curve in the path, their spectators disappearing from view behind a building, and suddenly Roman’s hand was on her back, guiding her into the lee of a nearby building, catching her, spinning her. Her back bumped against the siding a fraction of a second before his mouth crashed down over hers. Her yelp of surprise was smothered by his lips.

  His hands cradled her face, his tongue thrusting in to explore her mouth. She twisted her face away, shoving at his chest. “Roman!” she hissed. “What the hell are you doing? Anyone could see us!”

  “I needed to.” He dropped his forehead down onto hers. “Mateo cracked one of the hard drives. We’re going, Patch. The Alpha gave it the green-light as soon as he saw the coordinates and schematics. We spent all night planning.”

  Her breath whooshed out. That was where he’d been. She’d let her imagination run away with her, seeing a rejection that hadn’t come close to existing. Relief would have knocked her over if he hadn’t had her pinned against a building. In public. Shit.

  The relief was as disconcerting as the hurt she’d felt when she thought it was over. She was in too deep. Too infatuated with him if her only reaction to his news was relief that he still wanted her.

  She gave his chest another shove until he rocked back on his heels, giving her breathing room that wasn’t drenched in his scent. Focus, Patch. “When do we go?”

  “They go in three days. You aren’t trained, Patch. You’d only slow them down.”

  Bullshit. He was trying to protect her again. “And if they need someone who is an expert at navigating mountain terrain?”

  “They’ll have to settle for Kye.”

  “Why three days?”

  “Doc Brandt says Adrian will be well enough to come with us by then. I want to go now, move quickly before they can relocate any of the prisoners, but the Alpha wants the bird shifter involved since he’s been to the facility we’re infiltrating before—and so we can keep an eye on him.”

  “We can keep an eye on him?” she repeated. “Which is it, we or them? Are you going too?”

  He grimaced. “I’m working on it. The Alpha wants me here, but I think I can convince him to see the benefits of sending me along.”

  “And you couldn’t tell me this from a more appropriate distance?” He loomed over her, no longer touching, but invading her space nonetheless. In the pride, their proximity wouldn’t necessarily raise eyebrows, but his posture would. The way he was looking at her…

  “I missed you last night.” He reached for her again and she dodged to the side, sliding along the wall.

  They’d gone too far. This wasn’t a fling, hadn’t been one for a long time—if it had ever been. She’d told herself it was okay because it was only temporary—but this relationship, with the man who would marry Lila, was anything but okay.

  “Has Lila ever been to your place?” she asked, unsure why it was so important for her to know the answer.

  “My office? Sure. She comes by all the time.”

  “No. Not your office. Your bungalow.”

  Roman frowned. “No. Why does it matter?” He stepped toward her, trying to cage her against the building again, but she danced away, pressing a hand to his sternum to keep him back.

  “You said you were wooing her.”

  “I am.” He caught the hand she’d put on his chest and used it to reel her in. “We have dates almost every day. I’m supposed to meet her in half an hour actually.”

  Jealousy spiked and she ruthlessly flattened it. Hearing him say it like that, so casually, wrecked her. “She’s beautiful. The perfect lioness.”

  “She’s very pretty,” Roman agreed. They’d always avoided talking about Lila in the past and Patch was realizing what a brilliant policy that had been as vicious jealousy twisted through her again. Roman caught her against him with an arm around her waist, bending his head to breathe in the scent of her neck. “You are arresting. Intoxicating. Addicting.”

  “You shouldn’t say those things to me.”

  “So give me something else to do with my mouth.”

  His mouth descended toward hers—and Patch gave him a hard shove. “I’m serious.” She caught him enough by surprise that she was able to twist almost completely out of his arms until his only remaining hold on her was the hand he’d used to reel her in.

  “Patch…”

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  He didn’t let her go, but the declaration did halt his attempts to get her back into his arms. His eyes darkened. “I haven’t slept, so maybe I’m not understa
nding—”

  “I can’t sleep with you anymore. Kiss you or talk to you or anything. Clean break.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Do I look like I think this is funny?”

  He studied her and if anything looked even more drained than when she’d first seen him, like her words had sapped him of the last reserves of his massive strength. He released her wrist. “You look pissed and I’m exhausted. I don’t want to fight with you about this right now, Patch.”

  She used her freedom to take three steps away, out of reach. “You should go. You’ll be late for your date with Lila.”

  His expression blackened, eyes narrowing warningly. “Patch—”

  “Goodbye, Roman.”

  She bolted then, half expecting him to chase her—public spectacle be damned—but there were no footsteps behind her. She ran until she hit the woods and kept running. When she was panting for breath, she leaned against a tree, sucking in air.

  And saw claw marks in the trunk.

  Idiot girl. She’d come back to the site of her first kiss with Roman. She released her claws and dug them into the bark, climbing the tree like scrambling up a ladder. High above the ground, she shed her clothing and tucked it into the crook of a particularly thick branch before shifting and stalking out onto the heavy limb, paw over paw until she could go no farther without it bowing beneath her weight.

  She stretched out on her stomach on the bough, wrapped her tail around it, and rubbed the fur of her chin against the bark.

  She’d broken up with Roman.

  Sort of. Supposing what they had was even a relationship enough to qualify for a break-up, which the ache in her chest certainly seemed to confirm it was. And supposing he actually accepted that they were over, which he hadn’t exactly done. Though by now he’d surely realized this was for the best. Pride first. Anything between them was impossible. She knew that.

  So why did she feel like her heart was cracking open?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She didn’t know how long she stayed up in the tree. Her time sense was always distorted as a cat and she wasn’t in the most reasonable state of mind to begin with. It could have been minutes or hours before she heard the crunch of heels over the twigs that lined the path.