by Celia Kyle
Cole eased from their kiss—slowly, carefully, regretfully—and dropped his head to nuzzle her neck. Just enough of a caress to whisper without being caught. “Showtime, sweet. Hopefully you can turn on the charm.”
Chapter Four
Showtime? Charm?
With his few words, his sensual spell dissipated, like a cloud shoved across the sky with strong gusts. Somehow, she’d allowed herself to be seduced by the tiger shifter. What had begun as a way to cover both their asses had turned into Stella losing herself to the stranger’s seduction. Stella shuddered with his low whisper, the roughness of his voice. It was gruff and deep and sank into her in a way her jaguar enjoyed a little too much.
The cat liked it enough to get them into the “bend me over the desk while I lift my tail” kind of trouble. Her inner bitch no longer cared about their goal—ridding the world of James Walters. It was all about the cocky shifter.
Horny little cat. It didn’t deny Stella’s accusation.
Yeah, it’d been a while, and this stranger—this tiger was…A tremble of need skated down her spine. This male was all big cat—dominance and feline strength. Two traits that appealed to her jaguar.
His human form appealed to Stella’s other half as well. Like other shifter males, he was covered in hard muscle and imbued with overwhelming power. Shifted he’d be nearly eight hundred pounds of fierce beast—more than four times her jaguar’s bulk.
The perfect big cat package.
The sexy stranger eased away, his warmth disappearing as he put distance between their bodies. His breath gently fanned her cheeks, and he brushed his lips along her jaw as he withdrew. He gave her one last nibble on her lower lip before he pulled back enough to meet her stare.
“Turner?” A new voice—male, insistent and sharp—acted as a reminder that they weren’t alone. They had a human audience.
And their kiss had been nothing but a performance—a play—for this human. She swallowed hard, pushing down her disappointment at the fact that their passion hadn’t been “real.” Even if it wasn’t real, she’d still enjoyed the feel of his lips on hers, his firm chest pressing against her breasts.
His lips curled into a smile, wide and welcoming, but the grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. They settled into a cold flatness, not revealing the thoughts whirling in his mind. His scent was an enigma, too. It remained hot with the tempting musk of his desire and…nothing more. There were no hints of surprise or anger over being interrupted. Literally, nothing.
Which was odd considering that shifter scents—like humans—were an amalgam of flavors. She wondered why he was the exception to the rule. Was he a sociopath who lacked any emotions, or did he just have that much control over himself?
“Mr. Walters.” Cole’s attention slid from her to the doorway. “Good evening.”
Stella followed the direction of Cole’s gaze and recognized her target for the evening. Behind him stood his spoiled daughter, while two other humans remained in the shadows.
But she didn’t care about Walters’s daughter or those other humans. Stella’s focus was on the man himself. Fire burned in her veins, muscles tensed, and adrenaline flooded her body. Fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, but her only natural instinct was to fight. Fight him for what he did. Fight him for what he would do. She remembered the C4 still tucked within her dress, and her fingers tingled with the need to move. To wrap her fingers around the bundle and set off the bomb. She’d die, but she’d save others. So many others.
“Mr. Turner.” Walters growled what she assumed was Cole’s last name, but it was a pale imitation of a shifter’s growl. Her jaguar would show the human what a true shifter growl sounded like. Just before she got her jaws around his head and cracked it like a coconut.
“What are you doing in here?” A small wave of fury from the human stung her nose. Walters wasn’t happy. Stella wasn’t happy, either. She wouldn’t be happy until the human was six feet in the ground. Forever.
Cole stepped back, his large hands grasping her wrists to untwine her arms. Then he gently gripped her hand, and she used his hold to maintain her balance as she lowered her feet to the ground. Next time she infiltrated a rich-boy party she’d wear flats. But first she had to get out of this situation with her tail intact. The kiss had been a nice bit of quick thinking on Cole’s part. It’d also been more than a little nice. More like delicious.
“We wanted a little privacy.” Cole slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed her side, his hold firm as he forced her to turn and face Walters.
Walters had a stiff smile on his face. Oh, he tried to hide his emotions with that feigned grin, but there was no hiding the stink of his suppressed irritation.
He looked like she remembered. There was a little more gray and a few more lines on his face, but the cold look in his eyes was familiar. He’d looked the same on that day. Her own personal apocalypse and he’d been the catalyst.
It’d be so easy to get the job done. There were only four humans, and they weren’t carrying weapons. She hadn’t caught a hint of gun oil or gunpowder in the air.
“In my private study?” Walters quirked a brow. “And with Miss—” He turned his attention to Stella, eyes narrowed as he looked her over.
Those eyes raked over her, and her panic changed. The longer his stare remained on her, the more her body’s desires altered. It went from “fight” to “flight” in a blink. That dead gaze was edged with suppressed violence. Was there a hint of recognition, too?
No. No way. It’d been more than twenty years since she’d last seen him in the flesh. He’d kidnapped Stella’s fraternal twin. The two of them hadn’t looked anything alike. Madeline had taken after their father—pale blond hair, blue eyes, and upturned nose. Stella was a miniature of her mother, her fiery coloring nothing like Madeline’s. But maybe there’d been something in their appearances that they’d shared. Did he see it? Did he know who she was? Did he…?
Fuck. Now wasn’t the time to debate. She’d maintain her identity and act as if she’d never met the despicable human.
Stella drew her lips back into a wide smile and was thankful the cat hadn’t decided to “help” her. If the jaguar had its way, she’d be baring fangs. “Stella Moore. We’ve never met, but it’s an honor.”
She held out her hand and took a step toward the man—or tried—only to have Cole’s firm grip stop her. She forced a laugh and turned into his embrace. She gently tapped his chest to draw his attention, and he met her gaze with those cold, flat eyes.
“Darling, I’m trying to say hello to your friend. He’s not going to steal me away with a handshake.” She returned her focus to Walters and rolled her eyes. Part of her died at having to smile at the human who’d caused her so much pain. “Excuse him. He gets so jealous.”
“Does he?” James turned his suspicious stare on Cole. “Funny, he failed to mention your existence.” The human wasn’t done. “You didn’t RSVP with a plus one, Cole. And you informed Olivia you were alone for the evening. I don’t like surprises.”
She didn’t like that James Walters still breathed, so they were even.
Cole shrugged as if Walters’s anger didn’t matter. “I don’t like being predictable. Besides”—a grin teased the tiger’s lips—“I wanted to test your security before I considered investing in your business.”
There was extra weight on that last word. Cole wasn’t speaking about Walters’s company, but something else. Stella’s heart raced, thumping harder and harder while she fought to understand why the ever-loving fuck a shifter would do any business with Walters. Period.
Did he not know the depths of Walters’s depravity? Did he not know that the human helped run Unified Humanity? Did he…?
“I see.” A speculative gleam sparked in Walters’s eyes. “You thought to bring a stranger into my home? To my private study? To test my security? And you thought that behavior would make me eager for your investment?”
“I think you can’t afford to turn me away if I cho
ose to offer my backing. Not after your recent loss.” Harsh. Flat. Cocky as hell with a dash of “I don’t give a fuck.”
Stella wondered when James would lose his patience and they’d be surrounded by security and executed. Maybe Walters would do it himself. He seemed furious enough to pull the trigger—more than once.
She’d lose her chance then. All of her plotting and planning thrown out the window. The years of saving enough money to make her old self disappear so Stella Moore could be born—a new identity wasn’t cheap. Definitely not something she could have afforded on a paralegal’s salary. She’d paid off student loans, worked three jobs, and studied all the ways a human could be killed.
Then she’d watched and waited for the perfect storm of events—a gathering with all of the top players in attendance.
Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away, unwilling to cry in front of the piece of shit. Later…Later she’d sob over her failure. Then work on another plan to kill the man who’d destroyed her life.
“Of course, now that some of your vulnerabilities have been pinpointed,” the tiger inserted smoothly, “the Turner Group would be happy to provide a detailed list to your security staff. Free of charge, of course.”
Walters shook his head. “Apex Industries doesn’t need the interference of the Turner Group.”
“You just need our money,” Cole drawled.
“My secondary business needs people I can trust. You’ve already proven you aren’t a person worthy of my faith. I don’t even know what kind of person you brought into my home,” the man volleyed back.
Cole stiffened. “You’re showing your paranoia, Walters. Do you think I didn’t have her tested?” He shook his head. “She’s not a furry,” he sneered. “We’re in this room because she enjoys a hint of danger. I indulge her when it’s convenient.”
Stella’s stomach churned, and she swallowed the bile that rushed up her throat. Her body’s reaction wasn’t caused by fear. It wasn’t. Though Walters’s doubt was enough to spur her to join Cole’s game. She joined him in pandering and charming James Walters.
She gasped and clutched invisible pearls. “He thinks…?” She turned a wide-eyed, hopefully innocent-looking stare on James Walters. She’d rather glare at him. “You think I’m a…?” She shook her head, wrinkled her nose, and shuddered. “Absolutely not. I can understand your worry, though.” She nodded. “First Cole doesn’t talk about me or tell you that I’m attending.” She threw him a feigned glare. “That wasn’t very good of you, darling. Now here I am crashing what is obviously a private Unified Humanity event.”
“What do you know of our organization?” Accusation filled Walters’s voice, while a craving for violence consumed his scent.
She should have taken drama instead of an extra foreign language class in high school. She could count to ten in Japanese, but that wasn’t going to get her through this confrontation. She had to act innocent and sweet when she just wanted to see James Walters die.
“I know only what little Cole has shared with me. Pillow talk about the good the organization can do with proper funding. Of course, I don’t know of everything Unified Humanity has accomplished to clean the world of its unnatural taint.” Stella quoted UH’s own language and added a shudder. “I’m only thankful you stand up for what’s right and pure.”
“I…see.” Walters was still skeptical, but that edge of suppressed viciousness had retreated.
Cole spoke up. “I’ll call for my driver and we’ll leave immediately. I’d hate to ruin the evening.”
“The evening isn’t ruined,” Walters told Cole, but that narrow-eyed stare remained on Stella. “You’ll both stay and enjoy the rest of the party.” It was a statement, not an invitation. “And you’ll bring her with you tomorrow. Serene Isle can always use another beautiful face.” Walters flashed a charming smile, but the edge of suspicion lingered in his eyes. “Though you’ll be searched upon your arrival.”
“Of course,” Cole murmured.
No. Not of course. Never, ever, of course. She’d rather die.
Except she was certain that if she didn’t, she would die.
Chapter Five
Cole preferred Stella’s spurts of anger and the fire in her eyes over the placid she-cat who’d been at his side all night. He understood why she’d adopted the polite grins that never reached her eyes while she exchanged boring chatter with other guests. In truth, he should be thankful she’d gone along with his act and hadn’t blown his cover.
Though he hadn’t blown hers, either. What had pushed the pretty kitty to breach Walters’s home and try to kill him? One look into those green eyes, one glance at her face, and he knew everything he needed to know. Stella wasn’t a killer. She didn’t have that stain of death and blood on her soul. Not like Cole. Not like the rest of his Shifter Operations Command team.
So why? He hadn’t had the opportunity to ask…yet. They’d been surrounded by guests for the remainder of the evening, which didn’t give them a chance to discuss the situation. Though Stella’s scent told him more than words ever could. Her natural aroma changed with her every emotion—betraying her true feelings.
Jealousy when another woman looked at him with desire in her eyes.
Anger when one of those women “stumbled” into him, requiring him to catch the guest before she fell.
Utter fury when she was forced to speak to James Walters. She’d craved blood and death, and Cole’s tiger wanted to grant her every wish. The cat didn’t want her tainted by committing murder. It would happily take on the job for her.
Then came the wariness, the fear—of him. He hated that emotion—it appeared only when they were left alone. Anytime they stood along the wall, drinking champagne while others danced, the sticky scent would fill his nose.
His beast hated her fear. It wanted to kill everything that scared the sweet jaguar. Unfortunately, he was the one who frightened her, and he wasn’t about to commit suicide.
Three hours later, as the party ended and guests drifted from the overwhelming mansion, Cole escorted Stella to the front steps, her arm twined around his as they descended. He had James on his left, the man’s daughter on Stella’s right. Cole fought to keep up with both conversations while also ignoring the heavy scent of her terror.
Walters asked about recent investments while Olivia questioned Stella’s outfit.
Shit. He hoped to hell it was nice enough—expensive enough—for this crowd. Cole had bought his way into the party with his bank balance. He couldn’t have his date dressed in something off the rack. It looked fancy and slinky, but what the hell did he know?
Then Stella’s softly murmured “vintage Dior” drifted his way, followed by a sharp snap of jealousy from Olivia. Well, it was good enough for the man’s daughter to covet, so Stella must have passed muster.
They reached the bottom of the steps, and Walters’s valet stood beside Cole’s low-slung sports car. The valet held the door open for Stella while Cole took his time helping her into the vehicle. She’d already almost tumbled once because of those sexy shoes. He didn’t want her breaking an ankle before he had a chance to feel those pointed heels digging into his back.
The moment the door thumped closed, he turned to face his hosts once more. “James.” He gave the human a firm handshake, stopping short of breaking his fingers. “Olivia.” He released James and gave the man’s daughter a whisper-soft kiss to the back of her hand. “The evening was lovely. Thank you for tonight’s invitation. We both look forward to this weekend.”
He hated all of this bowing and scraping crap—his tiger even more so—but it was necessary bullshit. He had to play nice and pretend he didn’t ache to rip the pair’s heads from their shoulders.
He left the two humans, strode around his vehicle, and slid behind the wheel. The valet nudged the door closed, and Cole dropped the car into gear. A touch on the gas had them moving, the smooth ride over the well-cared-for driveway silent. He gave the wheel a gentle pull, navigating around the pa
th’s arch, and then straightened again to follow the long exit.
Cole reached for Stella’s hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers, grip firm as he drew it to his mouth. She pulled against him, eyes nearly glowing with the combination of anger and uneasiness. Well, he was going to win this fight. Though he had no doubt he’d lose one or two in the coming hours.
“Tired, sweet?” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. His cat urged him to steal a taste of her skin, flick his tongue over her silken flesh and savor her sweetness. But he managed to control himself. Barely. “Maybe you should lean back and rest for the ride to my apartment.”
Green changed color and eased toward yellow. “Your—”
“We have plans for the weekend, remember?” He dropped his voice and pushed his next words through gritted teeth. If there were cameras spying on them as they left, they wouldn’t be able to read his lips. “Keep playing along. We’re still on Walters’s land.” He wished he knew what kind of monitoring devices Walters used. Then he spoke normally. “It would be easier to spend the night at my place since the party ran so late. We’ll swing by your apartment in the morning, on the way to the airport.”
“Oh, right,” she drawled. There was no missing the anger in her stare. The scent of her fury scorched his nose. “I’d forgotten. It looks like I’m more tired than I realized.”
“Just close your eyes, sweet. We’ll be home soon.” Though Cole wasn’t looking forward to arriving at his place. Stella had been all smiles and easygoing laughs during the party, but none of that remained. Now he faced one pissed-off, glaring jaguar shifter who looked like she wanted to turn him into a scratching post.
Cole’s tiger was fucked up enough to be intrigued by the idea. He wasn’t normally a masochist, but Stella was one sexy package. The cat was willing to give it a shot if it meant he got the little feline naked and beneath him.