Taming the Lion Page 22
They’d called another All Pride Meeting to announce Roman’s assumption of power and the wedding. She’d practically given herself an ulcer in the days leading up to the meeting, but when he’d put his arm around her on the stage there had been cheers. Actual, enthusiastic cheers.
She knew she had Lila to thank for that. Lila who had been operating a whisper campaign about what a cute couple they made and how sad it was that star-crossed lovers like them couldn’t possibly be together in the pride.
On the whole, the pride members seemed genuinely happy for them—or they were just better at hiding their animosity than Patch had given them credit for.
She wasn’t really a huge fan of being the center of attention all the time—she couldn’t walk down the paths of the pride without people stopping her, or staring as she passed—but she supposed she’d get used to that eventually. Or with luck, maybe it would die down a bit once the big wedding was over.
Even if she was inside a fishbowl for the rest of her life, it was worth it. She loved the pride. Loved being able to help people. The outliers had always looked to her, but she hadn’t realized quite how much until she was their mouthpiece in an official capacity. Most of her new role seemed to be helping the non-lions transition to pride life—and she was finding she was damn good at it. She was their bridge.
And then there was Roman—who stole kisses without a care for who was watching and reminded her every night when she fell exhausted into his arms that he loved her more than she’d ever thought possible.
Life wasn’t perfect or easy, but there was a fullness in her chest that never quite went away—happiness.
She just wished there wasn’t also a little sliver of her psyche that was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, watching warily for the day when it would all be snatched away. The price of happiness was that constant fear. She’d learned that lesson young.
So when a man with stringy brown hair and an aura of menace stepped into her path, she was almost relieved that the catch in her perfect existence had finally revealed itself.
He smelled like a lion, but she didn’t recognize him. New to the pride, then. Which instantly made her hackles rise. Non-lions tended to choose to live alone, being more independent by nature, but nomadic lions arriving at the pride were almost universally those who had been kicked out of their prides. Either because they were seen as threats, as Roman had been, or because they were troublemakers, as she had a feeling this lion was.
His face was gaunt, as if he’d been living rough for a while, and his pale, pale yellow eyes were flat and disturbingly dead.
“Hello, little Alpha’s mate,” he cooed tauntingly. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
Out here was hardly the far reaches of the pride and she wasn’t by herself any more than she ever was in a pride where privacy always came second to community. But when she looked around, she realized she didn’t see many familiar faces—though there were two more strange lions stalking out of the shadows behind her.
Shit. She wasn’t fast. She wasn’t as strong as a fully grown male lion. And though Roman would cheerfully dismember all three of these assholes if they laid even a pinky finger on her, that didn’t help her now when he was up at the main house and she was halfway across the pride.
She’d seen enough power plays in her life at the pride to know these asses were probably only testing for weaknesses—pushing at her to see if she was a crack in Roman’s armor. She may be a cougar, but there was no way she was giving them the satisfaction.
Patch tipped her chin up, drawing herself up to her full—meager—height, and prepared to reach for her cat if things went sideways in a hurry. “Just on my way to visit some pride mates. If you’ll excuse me.”
She didn’t try to push past him—an idiot like this would only take that as aggression. Instead, she pointedly stared at the path he was blocking.
Asshole #1 snorted. “Listen to that, guys. Pride mates. Little cougar bitch actually thinks she’s part of the pride.”
Behind her, his sidekicks shuffled closer and chuckled. “Cute,” one of them muttered.
By sheer force of will she didn’t turn around, didn’t show the fear that was crowding in on her as surely as they were.
She didn’t look around for help. The Alpha’s mate didn’t beg for help at the first sign of trouble—besides, she wasn’t even sure if she would get it. Why would they help her? The cougar interloper. These were lions challenging her. If anyone belonged at the pride, wasn’t it them and not her?
“Let me by,” she said, gratified her voice didn’t waver.
“I don’t think I will. I’ve been wondering what is so goddamn special about you that the Alpha would pick you when he could have the pick of the smoking hot lionesses in this pride,” Asshole #1 mused, reaching up as if he would touch her face. “Is your cunt gold-plated or something?”
She swatted his hand away, and his hand struck like a snake, locking hard around her wrist. “Play nice, little cougar,” he growled.
A hand appeared around his throat. A low voice growling, “That isn’t how we play here.”
As Asshole #1’s grip loosened, Patch looked past him to see who her savior was, half-expecting Roman, even though it hadn’t been his voice and she knew he was halfway across the pride. Who else would come to her defense? Rajan, the tiger? Hugo? Would Santiago pit himself against lions?
Her jaw dropped when she recognized Tarron. One of the old guard lions. A traditionalist to his bones. The older man was still strong enough to choke Asshole #1, but that wouldn’t stop his sidekicks from interfering. Patch looked, and nearly lost her jaw again. Kelly—laughing, lazy, eternal pacifist Kelly—stood with one of the Sidekick Assholes in an arm lock, while Xander—who had been glaring at Patch ever since he’d first seen her hand in Roman’s—had one forearm pressed against the other’s throat.
Three lions. Probably the three last lions she ever would have expected to come to her aid. And beyond them, others stood watching—lions and non-lions alike—all shooting daggers at the Asshole Trio, and looking eager to step in should some asshole ass need kicking.
It was enough to choke a girl up.
“I’m a lion,” Asshole #1 choked out when Tarron let him speak, echoing her earlier thoughts. “I belong here. Not her.”
“That isn’t how we do things here,” Tarron said, his voice more animal than man. “She’s pride. And you do not touch a member of this pride.”
“You don’t touch the Alpha’s mate,” Xander added.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” Kelly finished.
Other familiar faces stepped forward to help escort the Asshole Trio away from her and off pride land. It all happened so smoothly Patch was left standing with Tarron before she could fully process all that had happened.
“You all right, ma’am?” he asked low.
She glanced up at him and smiled, though the smile was strained. “I don’t think you have to call me ma’am right now, Tarron.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I just like saying it.”
Meaning he liked her as the Alpha’s mate. Her throat closed with unfamiliar emotion. “Thank you, Tarron. For your help.”
He shrugged again. “If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have. I was just standing closest when those three decided to let their brains fall out of their heads.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Even if it was just an intervention of convenience.”
“May I walk you to your destination?”
It didn’t feel necessary. Not in this moment, when it felt like the entire pride was behind her and she could conquer the world. But she liked the idea of walking with the older lion. Maybe getting to know him a little like she knew the outliers—like she’d never really tried as hard to know the lions.
She looped her arm through his, initiating the comforting touch that was so much a part of the pride. “I’d like that.”
A hard, purposeful knock struck his office door just
after six.
“Come,” Roman called without looking up, his attention engrossed in the latest report from the Task Force who were investigating the other Organization sites.
Then he did look up and all thoughts of tactics and strategies were instantly purged from his brain.
Holy fuck. What she was wearing…
The jeans were molded to every inch of her legs and hung low across her hips, held in place by a wide brown belt. Her usual hiking boots had been replaced by low-heeled leather numbers that reached up her calves all the way to her knees. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and her eyes seemed darker and more mysterious somehow, but it was the shirt that made him stiff inside his jeans. The fabric hung loosely over her front, held in place only by a pair of string ties behind her neck and around her back—leaving the entire sleek, luscious expanse of skin from her nape to her belt alluringly bare.
Which also bared every scratch and nip and love-mark he’d left on her skin. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything hotter than the slight purple bruise on her collarbone.
“What’s all this?” he asked, his hands itching to touch all that bare skin.
“A present for you from Whiskey and Lila.” She strolled toward him, a deliberate sway to her hips. “They said it would wake you up.”
“Was I asleep?”
She shrugged, and the barely-there shirt shifted enticingly. “I think it was more for me than you. Help me find my inner sex goddess and all that.”
“She was missing?”
“Hiding.” She cocked her head, her loose hair sliding over her shoulders. “Do you like it?”
“Like isn’t the right word,” he said, reaching out to grab her as soon as she was in reach beside his desk and pulling her into his lap, letting her feel how much he liked it.
She looped her arms around his neck, dodging him when he would have caught her mouth. “I was thinking we could head over to the Den. Grab a beer with our pride mates. You could work on being Alpha-of-the-People.”
“You should have worn something else if you wanted to spend the night anywhere but underneath me.”
She laughed, the sound filed with pleasure and pure, feminine power—but she didn’t pull away. He finally got his hands on that skin, stroking over the silken length of her back.
“I heard you had a little trouble today.” It had taken everything he had not to drop everything to go to her when he heard she’d been accosted by some out-of-town lions. Not to hunt down the useless fucks who would dare to lay a finger on her. But he hadn’t been told anything was happening until it was over and taken care of, and he needed to show the pride that he trusted her to rule without him hovering over her like a nanny all the time.
“I’m fine,” she said, smoothing her hands over his pecs and shoulders. “It never got to the point of being bad, because the pride rallied around me. In the end, I think it was a good thing.”
“How do you figure that?”
“It showed me I really am their Alpha’s mate, but more than that, that I’m really one of them.”
He rubbed a thumb along her chin. “You always have been.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t willing to accept their acceptance. Does that make sense?” When he just frowned, she went on. “I was always more comfortable with the other non-lions, the other outliers, because with the lions it was always too much. Too intense. And too much like family, you know? It’s hard to keep things casual in the pride. It’s hard to keep your independence. But I was missing something by not having that connection. I didn’t want to be accepted because then I would need the pride and it could be taken away. If I let myself want acceptance I thought I would never get, then it would hurt—so I pushed it away. Kept the pride, kept you, kept everyone at a distance.”
She slipped her arms around his neck. “But I’m done pushing. I’ve wanted you for what feels like a million years, but I always thought it was girls like Lila who got the fairy tale. Not girls like me. Even when you were down on one knee with a ring in your hand, I didn’t want to trust it, but I should have. I love you, Roman. And I know you love me.”
“Always.”
Her smile was dazzling, but it was nothing compared to the kiss.
When she finally let him up for air, he didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to say anything to threaten her newfound conviction, but he had to know.
“Are you sure? Today might not be the last time someone comes after you to get at me. We have a mountain of shit in front of us—the Organization, overcrowding, the threat that we might have to come out to the humans—are you sure you’re game for this? Because it’s all uphill from here.”
“Don’t be such a big pussy.” She grinned. “Uphill is the fun part.”
And she cut off any further protests with a mind-melting kiss.
The fun part. With her, it would be.
About the Author
An Alaskan born and raised, award-winning paranormal romance author Vivi Andrews still lives in the frozen north when she isn’t indulging her travel addiction by bouncing around the globe. Whether at home or on the road, she’s always at work on her next happily-ever-after. For more about her books or the exploits of a nomadic author, please visit her website at www.viviandrews.com, or find her on Facebook and Twitter.
Look for these titles by Vivi Andrews
Now Available:
Reawakening Eden
Ghosts of Boyfriends Past
Superlovin’
Serengeti Shifters
Serengeti Heat
Serengeti Storm
Serengeti Lightning
Serengeti Sunrise
Karmic Consultants
The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant
The Ghost Exterminator: A Love Story
The Sexorcist
The Naked Detective
A Cop & A Feel
Finder’s Keeper
Naughty Karma
Lone Pine Pride
Jaguar’s Kiss
Coming Soon:
Lone Pine Pride
Hawk’s Revenge
To get what he wants, he’ll have to rattle her cage…
Jaguar’s Kiss
© 2014 Vivi Andrews
Lone Pine Pride, Book 1
Lila Fallon, the Lone Pine Pride Alpha’s only daughter, has been betrothed since childhood to marry her father’s chosen successor. The match is designed to maintain peace by shoring up any cracks in pride solidarity.
She’s always known she would do her duty—she just never expected to meet a man who would tempt her to throw it all away.
As a black panther, Santiago Flores couldn’t be a less suitable mate for the Alpha’s purebred lioness daughter. But that doesn’t change the fact that for every one of the five years he’s been with the Lone Pine Pride, he’s been head-over-heels in love with her. And when the Alpha announces that Lila’s indefinite engagement is about to end in a very definite marriage, Santiago is through holding his peace.
From their very first kiss, Santiago rattles Lila’s neatly ordered world. But can a lioness who’s always lived to please everyone else risk everything to please herself?
Warning: This book contains tempting lone-wolf jaguars, lionesses who long for fairy tale endings, arranged marriages, tangled emotions and a pride full of trouble.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Jaguar’s Kiss:
Maybe Lila was a coward after all. There really wasn’t any other explanation for the fact that she was fleeing from her fiancé. She slowed to a walk, stumbling a little as the alcohol sloshed through her bloodstream. She was almost back to where she’d shattered the beer bottle. She was really having a bang up night. Temper tantrums, running away—
The thought evaporated as she saw the figure standing in the darkness next to the fence post with her hair ribbon tied around it, staring out over the elk enclosure. For a second she was terrified Roman had circled around them and she would have to face him after all, then she
realized the form didn’t have the bulk to be the future Alpha. No, this shadow was all sleek strength, dark hair, and the smoky scent of a jaguar teasing her as the wind shifted.
Santiago.
Oh mercy. She wasn’t prepared to deal with him any more than she had been to face Roman with that hops-induced honesty in her bloodstream. But it was either talk to him, turn back and face Roman, or march on past, pretending not to notice him there—which would be just another cowardly, childish move in a night that had already proven her pathetic.
She refused to be a coward in front of him.
Lila marched over to the fence, trying to sway her hips but fairly certain her va-va-voom was more than a little alcohol impaired. “What are you doing here?”
He turned his head, looking at her for the first time, though he had to know who she was the second she came into range. In answer, he lifted his own bottle for her to see—tequila—and she saw he had the end of her hair ribbon curled around his little finger.
“Me too,” she said in response to the alcohol. The world dipped unexpectedly and she reached out to steady herself on the fence, hoping it looked like she had intended to lean against it shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Patch and I ran out so I’m headed back for a refill.”
“Shouldn’t you be with your fiancé? Celebrating the upcoming nuptials?”
The growly quality in his voice made something warm stir low in her abdomen. She cleared her throat. “He’s out there with Patch.”
“Ah.”
The alcohol honesty chose that moment to rear its ugly head. “You aren’t much of a conversationalist, are you, Santiago Flores?” She wanted to hear more of that rumbly voice.
“You want conversation?” The words sounded like a threat. “Then by all means, let’s converse. Do you really want to marry Roman?”
This conversation again. Joy. Lila sighed, resigned. “It’s doesn’t matter what I want. It’s what I’m going to do.”
“Are you really such a martyr?” That lovely growl was back in his voice.
“It’s not martyrdom.” She was certain it wasn’t. She just couldn’t seem to think past all the alcohol to figure out why precisely.