by Thorne, Elle
Jeez. Really?
Anya mentally smacked herself around.
Quit acting like a teenager in front of a pop idol.
* * *
Bryson Courtland froze. He couldn’t drop his arm from the doorjamb; he couldn’t coax his legs to take a step toward the stunning redhead in front of him. Hell, he couldn’t take a step backward, either, if he wanted to.
She was dressed in a black pantsuit that hugged her curves in all the right ways, emphasizing an hourglass figure demurely covered in a white top and the black slacks. Her long red hair hung loose, waves begging for fingers to go exploring. The gaze she sent his way, those green eyes offset by fair skin the color of cream, made his pulse kickstart.
His leopard snarled in his mind.
Bryson shook his head, pushing the leopard away.
He might have been shoving his big cat aside, but he was feeling the same sentiments. Why hadn’t Cas told him about her?
Why didn’t he mention she’s—?
His leopard growled.
Like this—
His leopard snarled.
All that?
Bryson and Cas went way back. When Bryson had told Cas about his problem, Cas’s reply had been, “I know the perfect person for this. Her name is Anya Masenti. I’ll send her immediately.”
But Cas hadn’t said she was—
Again, his leopard interrupted with a roar.
Bryson wanted to ignore the leopard. God, did he ever. But that wasn’t the nature of their relationship, not by a long shot. Bryson and his leopard were tight and always had been. And when the leopard told Bryson something, there was no doubt it was true.
The leopard was giving him a single message right now, and all Bryson could think of was, How did Cas know?
The leopard kept insisting, She’s the one.
She was staring at him.
He swallowed what felt like a lump of fine sand in his throat.
Then an emotion washed over her face, so quickly, so fleeting, he couldn’t catch it. She veiled her feelings and became the stoic professional Cas had assured Bryson she was.
Lump gone, he attempted to talk. “Ms. Masenti? Anya Masenti?”
She gave him an icy look. “I’m Anya Masenti.”
He tried to glean her scent, to assess her interest, but to no avail. Damn. She’d used hunter’s block. Of course she had; she was paid to be vigilant. No shifter bodyguard worth their salt would want to give their presence or state of mind away.
He found himself admiring her because she didn’t have to use the hunter’s block; she wasn’t on the job yet, not technically. She didn’t have to take extra security measures.
“Join me for a visit?” He pushed the door open wider.
“Certainly, Mr. Courtland.”
“Bryson.”
“Bryson.” Her tongue turned his name into a caress.
He closed the door behind her then gestured toward the sitting room and watched her as she preceded him. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the apple of her ass as her hips swayed.
She sat in a wing chair, her back straight, her posture as stiff as if she was on guard.
She probably was. He sprawled out on the sofa.
“Cas McClellan didn’t give me much information, Mr.—” She paused. “Bryson.”
He smiled, acknowledging his pleasure that she’d called him by his first name. “What did Cas tell you about the assignment?”
“Nothing.” She pulled a file from the attaché case she’d carried in. “Was there a reason for such minimal information? Did you withhold it, or did he?”
“I wanted to see who he sent out first.”
Her eyes narrowed, she nodded.
“I’m glad it was you.” Now why the hell had he said that? Damn, he felt like he was in seventh grade, telling a girl he liked her.
“So why am I here?”
Chapter Two
Anya studied Bryson Courtland from beneath her lashes. One long leg was flung over the other one, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked the very image of a predator that seemed to be at rest but, in reality, was ready to spring into action.
A cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and grimaced.
“Urgent matter. Please excuse me.” He rose and moved out of the room with that stealthy stride shifters had.
Which reminded her—he was a shifter, and most shifters took care of themselves and their own security. The McClellan Group mostly served the needs of humans, but also specialized in shifter security—for those special times, special circumstances.
What are his circumstances?
She glanced around the room. Not a single Christmas decoration in sight.
Anya remembered Christmases at Mae’s home. The scent of cinnamon and oranges. A turkey and a ham. Presents.
A thought came to her, and she tried to push it back, tried to get rid of the living nightmare that still plagued her…
And the reason she hadn’t had a Christmas in forever…
Not since that last Christmas, with Astra’s family…
The tragedy she’d experienced when she was younger haunted Anya’s memories and her nights. She’d watched her best friend, Astra, almost die and Astra’s mother be slaughtered by shifters.
Anya had been powerless to assist. She’d shifted into her tigress and tried to defend them, but the attackers were full-grown shifters, and she was a young, solitary shifter doing battle with several.
She shook her head, wishing the memory would go away.
Doc Evans, Astra’s stepfather, had appeared and saved Astra and Anya from the shifters, but it was too late for Astra’s mother. Then he’d packed Astra up and taken her away to who knew where while Anya stayed behind in Bear Canyon Valley, trapped with the memories and nightmares of her best friend’s mother being murdered.
Anya had been unable to sleep after that day. Every time she’d close her eyes, just when she’d almost drifted off, she’d sit up, screaming. Her foster mother, Mae Forester, had tried and tried to help her through it, to no avail.
Then one day, Mae had sent Anya away from Bear Canyon Valley to find peace. She suggested Anya make accord with her tigress and stop blaming her. She sent Anya to see Cas McClellan to learn how to protect herself so she would stop fearing everything, including her own shadow.
Except there was no relief for Anya, not really. She’d never found out what happened to her friend Astra. Anya had blamed her tigress and hated her for many years because she hadn’t protected them from the shifters.
Now, years later, Anya was one of Cas’s employees.
And she no longer hated her tigress.
A slight footstep alerted Anya to Bryson’s return, and, a second later, he appeared at the doorway.
She forced a smile to her face, though her mind remained entrenched in those memories of Astra and the past.
“I apologize.” Bryson pocketed his phone. “Some things are dire.”
“No problem. Back to the subject. Why am I here?”
“Straight to the point. I like that in a… business person.” He smiled, and she was certain that wasn’t what he originally was going to say.
“Safety is an issue, hence hiring the McClellan Group, which in turn sent you.”
That was a rather broad explanation. “What specific threat is it that concerns you?”
“Safety.”
She was getting nowhere. “You mean your personal safety? The safety of your home?”
“Of course, I’d like to know my home is impenetrable. I wouldn’t want the ones I love hurt.”
Ones he loved?
Probably a wife. She bit back her disappointment. “Could I get a tour of your residence, so I can make an assessment of security needs and risks for a team?”
His dark-blue eyes glittered. He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Team? I didn’t hire a team. I hired you. I told Cas McClellan specifically no team.”
Great. Just great.
The thi
n dossier file. The no-team thing. This merited a call to Cas. Like now.
“Let me introduce you to the one you’ll be protecting.”
“You’re not the client?”
The client must be his wife. Great. And I’ve been lusting after him. There’s a special place in hell for me.
“I am the client, as in I’m footing the bill. But I’m not the one you’ll be looking after.” He turned his head toward the door.
She studied his profile. Those full lips. High cheekbones, planes that boasted masculinity.
Stop it. Stop it. He’s a married man.
Bryson pressed on a button on the end table. “Pepper? Come on in.”
Pepper?
A five-year old bounced into the room, a bundle of pigtails and cuteness, with a scent that screamed shifter. “Yes, Daddy?”
He indicated Anya. The little girl swung her blonde head in Anya’s direction. “This is Pepper. Pepper, meet your bodyguard, Anya.”
Anya couldn’t breathe. She hadn’t had a breathing problem like this since she’d left Bear Canyon Valley. She gulped air in and fought to maintain her composure and calm her pulse. “Wait a minute. No. I don’t do this. I don’t take care of…”
Children. My rule. No children. Cas knows my rule. She wasn’t willing to go through another incident like Astra’s.
She stood up. The room felt like it was spinning. The little one with vibrant-green eyes and blonde hair stared back at her.
She was the spitting image of Astra.
Anya reached for the back of the chair and used it to give herself some support while she gathered her composure. She pushed the spinning sensation away and swallowed hard.
“I can’t. I… Excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”
She stepped outside the room and went to the end of the hallway, where she leaned against the wall. Then she ripped the phone out of her pocket and panic-pressed the screen.
“Cas, what the hell is this about?”
* * *
Bryson stared after the beautiful white tigress shifter. She’d been special-ordered by Cas McClellan. Bryson had always managed his daughter’s protection himself, but they’d gotten a message about there being suspicious individuals in the area. Couple that with the ever-present threat.
“Daddy? What’s wrong with Anya?”
“I’m not sure. She had to make a phone call.”
What did she mean? She doesn’t do this? She doesn’t take care of…?
Take care of what?
Chapter Three
“Anya.”
She could tell from the tone of Cas’s voice he knew why she was calling. And he’d known she’d call.
“You knew.” The sound of accusation dripped from her voice, and she couldn’t help it. She felt betrayed like she never had before.
She took a deep breath, held it, counted to ten while gripping the white wall for support, her nails digging into the hard surface.
“I knew what he wanted,” Cas admitted.
She breathed out. “And you still sent me here.”
Cas exhaled, filling her ear with the sound of static. “I need you there. No one else can do this job like you.”
“Why?” Her voice was small, a vestige of her normal self.
“No one can match your passion in a situation like this. Your commitment to keeping Pepper safe would be unparalleled.”
Anya tried to take another breath, but the pinpricks of tears chipped away at her strength. Angry tears, the tears of betrayal.
“Anya?” Cas’s concern was evident in his voice.
“What?” She spit the word out.
“Please? As a personal favor to me, and for that little girl? Did you meet her?”
“Damn you.” She clenched her jaw muscles and gritted her teeth. “Did you know she looks just like Astra?”
“I never met Astra.”
Was he going to pull the offer back? Was he going to allow her to pass on the assignment? Would this defeat her?
Behind her, she heard the whisper of fabric and turned to confront the intruder.
A few paces away from Anya, Pepper froze, her lips a thin line in her pale face. With wide, luminescent-green eyes just like Astra’s, Pepper watched her and waited. Those were an old soul’s eyes. Anya couldn’t look away. She was hypnotized, captured by the little girl’s stare as surely as if she were caught in a trap.
Anya knew Cas was talking, but his voice was a low thrum, far away. She couldn’t make out a word he was saying because she was plummeting down the tunnel Pepper’s eyes were pulling her into. She was spinning, going deeper and deeper into an abyss of sea-foam green.
Anya shook her head and tore her gaze away from Pepper. She turned her back on the child to break the effect and put her hand over the phone so she could make an attempt at privacy. “What’s with her?”
“You’ll have to ask Bryson.” The connection was scratchy, distorting his words. “Will you stay?”
She glanced behind her. Pepper was gone.
No.
“Yes,” she whispered.
* * *
Bryson strained to hear what was being said, but there was nothing but silence, occasionally broken by the low sound of Anya’s murmured voice.
Pepper had slipped out of the room. He’d presumed it was to play until she ran back in and threw her arms around his waist. “I don’t think she wants to be my bodyguard, Daddy.”
Bryson put his arm around his baby girl. “I’m sure it’s not you. Maybe she has other responsibilities to take care of.”
He looked into Pepper’s vibrant gaze. A flash of dark-blue coursed through their green depths. He planted a kiss in the middle of her forehead.
I’ll be damned if I’ll let anything happen to you.
Even if Anya wasn’t willing to help.
A click of the woman’s shoes on the Italian marble floor alerted him to her approach, and, a second later, she appeared around the corner at the threshold.
Her face was pale, emphasizing the green of her eyes. Not the same green as Pepper’s, Anya’s was a deep green, like the bottom of a lake he’d seen once, long ago.
Her lips were flattened into a forbidding seam. She resumed her seat across from him in the wing chair she’d been in before. Now her posture reminded him of a fortress with the drawbridge raised.
“Pepper?” Her voice had a strained quality to it. “Would you give me a minute of privacy with your father?”
Pepper lifted her head from his chest and swung her gaze in Anya’s direction.
Could Anya see the deep blue in their depths? Would she know what it was? If she didn’t, should he tell her? Would that sway her decision one way or another?
Pepper nodded.
“After that, I’d like a minute of privacy with you, too,” Anya added.
“You don’t have to do that just to make me feel better.” Pepper sounded so grown-up.
Bryson’s heart filled with a bittersweet joy because his little girl wasn’t ever going to be able to fully enjoy being just a little girl.
Anya raised an eyebrow and leveled Pepper with a look that took her measure, and yet displayed her respect. “I’m not. I really want to talk to you.”
This made Bryson more nervous than anything. What if Pepper said something? What if she told Anya the truth? He hadn’t prepped her or told her to keep anything from Anya.
Pepper nodded and pulled herself from his embrace. She slipped out of the room, glancing back at Bryson, the hint of blue completely gone from her eyes.
Anya’s green stare was steady and unflinching. She didn’t peel her gaze from his. Deep within Bryson, his leopard paced, chuffing and snarling intermittently.
Why was his leopard at odds with this situation? He wanted to have a conversation with his leopard, but he couldn’t; that would mean he wouldn’t be able to fully process whatever Anya was going to tell him. There was no way he could split his attention between the two of them. He mentally drifted away from his leo
pard and focused on Anya.
Except she was quiet. Just staring at him with those disconcerting, laser-lethal eyes.
“So…” Bryson prompted her, hoping she’d say something, anything, even if it meant things became heated.
“Why am I here? My spidey senses are telling me something is up.” She attempted a smile, but it was clearly forced. Her hands gripped the armrests, her knuckles white.
“Cas thought you were right for the job.”
Her chin lifted in defiance. “Bullshit. It’s more than that.”
“Cas thought you were right for Pepper.”
Her eyes narrowed, resembling blades of dark-green grass.
“That’s it? What aren’t you telling me?”
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t tell her about Pepper. What if that pushed her away? Shifters didn’t care for other types of beings. “Because of your history…”
Her nostrils flared. He could see her toes curling in her shoes, as if she was trying to control her anger, but it was finding covert ways to release itself.
“He told you about that? How dare he?” She catapulted herself from the chair as if someone had pressed an eject button. She was almost out of the room when he caught up with her.
He had no clue what the hell he’d been thinking, but he wanted to blame his leopard for what happened next.
One of his hands landed on her waist, the other on her shoulder. Halting her egress, he spun her around. Her green eyes widened and then…
Her gaze traveled directly to his lips.
The way she looked at his lips was Bryson’s undoing, and his leopard’s, too.
He lowered his hand and gripped her hip with an unleashed ferocity while his other hand twisted her hair around his fist. He pulled her head back until her lips were a pink, rosy offering. He swooped in, lowering his mouth to hers, and his leopard roared at the moan that was wrenched from her throat.
The tiny sound parted her lips just enough for his tongue to snake in, tasting her essence. The sweetness and earthiness of her made his pulse race and his body react. A throbbing began, demanding and insistent.