Scoundrel (Emerald Isle Tigers Book 1)

by Cass Reynolds

  Scoundrel

  Emerald Isle Tigers Book One

  Cass Reynolds

  Amelie Hunt

  Contents

  Author’s Copyright

  An Excerpt

  All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series

  Get News

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Ready For More?

  All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series

  About Cass Reynolds

  About Amelie Hunt

  Copyright Cass Reynolds, 2015

  May not be replicated or reproduced in any manner without express and written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Created with Vellum

  An Excerpt

  Draven stood in front of the window, a small bowl of light illuminating him. He had taken off all but those loose pants, shadows dancing off the muscled planes of his body. He was magnificent. Broad shoulders rippled with strength, occasionally flashing a hint of tiger stripes. He should have been too pretty – untouchably so. But the scars crisscrossing his back gave evidence to his mortality. Diana felt the maddening desire to run her fingers along those scars, soothing long-gone pain.

  She didn’t mean to do it. She was just standing in the doorway, wondering what he did to give him so many wounds, and the next thing she knew, her hand was on his back, caressing his warm skin. Her breathing was shallow, her heart in her throat.

  Why was she touching him? After last night, when she practically begged him to take her and in turn he humiliated her? Was she some sort of masochist when it came to this guy?

  He turned, peering through his shaggy hair into her face. The pirate earring winked, reminding her of what he was – by all accounts a criminal, a player, and a scoundrel, not to mention violent, rude, far richer than her, and at home in this opulent city. He was all wrong for her. But the love that burns the brightest is that which is utterly wrong.

  All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series

  Ophelia Bell’s Black Mountain Bears

  Clawed

  Bitten

  Nailed

  Vivian Wood’s Winter Pass Wolves

  Howl

  Growl

  Prowl

  Sennah Tate’s Sunset Glade Panthers

  Spark

  Ember

  Blaze

  Maeve Morrick’s Arctic Station Bears

  Snowbound

  Snowman

  Snowfall

  Cass Reynold’s Emerald Isle Tigers

  Scoundrel

  Soldier

  Scholar

  Get News

  Join The Hunt

  Moonlight caresses your skin. Your bare feet crush leaves and grass as you run. Your heart hammers in your chest and your breath burns, but you can't stop. He's so close now.

  A flash in the corner of your vision! The chase is drawing to a close. For a moment, you feel a prickle of fear. But the feeling is fleeting. After all, you're not the prey.

  You're the hunter.

  Click here to get all of Amelie Hunt’s freshest releases first! Don’t forget to check out our website and add us on Facebook.

  Chapter One

  A stunning brunette in a clinging red dress stared into the arena. Her hands grasped the railing, knuckles white, fingers shaking. Draven could hear the beat of her heart, pulsing like a beacon, drowning out the chaotic din of the Coliseum.

  Leisurely, affecting a bored expression, he dragged his eyes down her body. Her hair was caught up in some fancy comb, ringlets spilling out and brushing her shoulders. Bare shoulders. The line of her collarbone drew his gaze – he saw himself kissing that collar bone, claiming it with his mouth. Claiming her.

  Draven drew in a breath, struggling to keep it light and steady. No need to alert the crowd that this woman meant anything to him. After all, she didn’t. He didn’t know her and didn’t care to.

  But still, the way that dress hugged her curves. Barely containing the creamy mounds of flesh that threatened to spill over the bodice. Emphasizing the swell of her hips and that luscious ass. An image flashed in his mind, the woman bent over the rail, dress hanging off her in tattered shreds as he bit into her flesh. She cried out, lost in the exquisite dance of pain and pleasure.

  He shook his head and the vision was gone. She was still there, but the dress was intact and she certainly wasn’t about to beg him to take her. If anything, she was about to throw up.

  He frowned, wondering why she would come here if it was just going to cause her this much anxiety. But he shouldn’t care. He should walk away. After all, a tiger only meets his mate once, and Draven would be damned before he saw himself chained down to some lily-livered woman who got sick at the sight of violence.

  True, her beauty was worthy of him. But he needed a woman with sass and spirit. Someone who could match him and challenge him. Someone who would be adventurous in the bedroom.

  Honestly, there was no women on earth who would live up to his high expectations. So he would just walk right out of this damn building and live his life exactly as he always had – with a new woman on his arm and in his bed every night.

  Sometimes more than one.

  Draven stood, pushing back his chair and snapping his cloak around his back while exuding feline grace. His kind moved with the poise of dancers and the hidden danger of born predators. The women around him stared openly while their dates scowled at him.

  He stalked forward, fully intending to make a beeline for the door, but instead he found himself leaning against the rail, a mere foot away from the bane of his existence. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he scowled. She hadn’t even noticed his approach.

  Any woman in the place would leave their man in an instant for him, but no, his “pre-destined” fucking mate didn’t give him a second glance. He still had time, he could walk away. But he knew how this sort of thing worked. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her – he would go to the ends of the earth to find her again. The curse of his kind.

  Even now he was struggling not to drag her back to his lair and fully stake his claim.

  Draven focused on the arena, curious as to what captured her attention so fully. The fight, obviously. But that was interesting.

  It was a Minotaur – fan favorite, nasty bugger – facing off against… a tiger shifter. But last he knew, they had no tigers. The last one escaped, pissing Zelloth right the fuck off. Tiger shifters were not known for getting themselves enslaved, and they were huge crowd pleasers. How’d this one get himself nabbed?

  And more importantly, why was this woman so damned interested in him? Draven felt a tide of fury rising in him. Had his mate already given herself to someone else? And to make it worse, another tiger? He would kill him and take his woman. She was his. It was his curse and his right.

  Any other day, Draven would be trying to figure a way to free this enslaved tiger. He didn’t like seeing his own kind forced to fight to the death. He hadn’t been able to help Diesel, stuck in a cage for y
ears. Draven shut his eyes for a moment, the sound of teeth on steel bars echoing through his brain. But he had enough clout now – he could help this one.

  But then the other tiger would be free to claim the woman, steal her away, and that was unacceptable.

  The other tiger’s death was the only option.

  Draven ground his teeth and pushed away from the railing. There were no good options here. He didn’t want to be chained to a mate, but the gods forced his hand. He didn’t want to see a brother killed in cold blood, but he couldn’t let him have the woman.

  His hands tightened into fists as he paced up and down the gallery, but she still didn’t notice him, so he threw a dark look her way and headed for the exit. The gods could shove it – he would have no mate.

  He grasped the handle to the heavy door but paused when he felt a light touch on his arm. Turning slowly, he looked into the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, and heard the voice of an angel.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  Chapter Two

  Diana wasn’t sure why the crazy man was so interested in her, but she had already decided she may be able to use him to her advantage.

  He was dressed very oddly - loose flowing pants and a baggy shirt, reminiscent of the pirates on the covers of old romance novel, not to mention the cape. He’d gone and added an actual cape to the mix. Wow.

  She had been expecting to find everyone in this rotting den of opulence dressed in Levi’s, Ralph Lauren, and Abercrombie – basically any clothes from the old world that now went for a fortune on the black market. But apparently they were above all that, instead prancing about in finery pulled from paperback fantasy novels and Regency romances.

  Still, this man stood out. For one thing, he had been pacing up and down the narrow balcony, generally making a nuisance of himself.

  For another, he was fucking gorgeous.

  Dark hair fell in messy waves and curled around his ears, a gold hoop winked in one lobe, and he even had something hanging at his side that looked suspiciously like a sword. He was 100% committed to the pirate look.

  The white shirt had a deep neckline, showing off a generous amount of his hard chest. At one point Diana caught a glimpse of a nasty looking scar, marring his perfection. Makeup? No. Even these hedonists wouldn’t be that vain.

  Besides, there was an air of danger about this man. An untamed beast, lurking just beneath the surface. He reminded her of her brother.

  Three things were certain: he was rich, he was powerful, and he was interested in her. If she played him just right, he may be able to help her with her brother’s mess.

  When she saw him stalking towards the door, she knew she had to act. But now that he was staring at her hand on his arm like she had committed some great offense, she was reconsidering. Who knew what strange customs existed in Emerald Isle.

  Maybe she had committed some great offense. Swallowing, she pulled her hand away, struggling not to let her uncertainty and fear show on her face.

  Slowly, the man brought his eyes up to meet hers, and she felt her heart trying to beat out of her chest. His eyes were gold. That could only mean one thing: he was a shifter, and he was close to losing control. The worst possible thing she could do was show fear.

  Diana smiled, hoping it was more seductive than sickly, and batted her eyes at him.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  The man blinked at her, his face contorting a little, the seconds dragging out as the anxiety crept up her throat.

  But then, finally, he spoke, eyes narrowing.

  “Did the cat get my tongue? What an interesting question.” His voice was like fine whisky, low and smooth, a voice made for charming pretty girls while he picked their pockets.

  Welp, that didn’t lend itself to an easy response.

  Maybe she could play dumb.

  Diana widened her smile just a little, and did her best to look clueless.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Never mind. Did you want something?” His silky voice grew curt.

  Huh. Maybe she had misread him. He certainly wasn’t acting like he was interested in her. She’d have to try to call his bluff.

  “Oh, I suppose not. I just thought I caught you starin’ at me a couple times, but I guess I was mistaken. You have a good night now.”

  His face contorted again.

  Aha! He wasn’t happy at the thought of walking away from her. She needed to push him over the edge.

  Diana forced herself to look into those molten eyes. Then she gave him one last coy smile and walked out the door.

  As the heavy metal swung shut behind her, she shivered in the night air, wondering if she just walked away from the best chance of freeing her brother that she had. But then, it may have been foolish to think she could trick this guy into helping - especially in what little time she had. The Coliseum’s owner didn’t mess around; he liked his fights bloody, cruel, and to the death.

  She forced herself to walk forward. If Mr. Golden Eyes did decide to come after her, it would look better if she wasn‘t obviously waiting for him. Her heels clicked on the pavement, echoing off the buildings around her.

  She wondered what this city had been like, back in the old days. It had been called Seattle then. Apparently it was famous for coffee and some kind of dirty music. Now it was where the rich came to play.

  The really special supernaturals found shelter here, since humans were willing to let them live for the chance to use them. Enough money would get you sex with a succubus, a bet placed on a fight to the death, or a captive djinn in a lamp.

  Diana shook her head, disgusted with them. They were bloody hypocrites, shouting to the world that magic needed to be eradicated and then coming here, skulking in back alleys and secluded brothels. She had no use for such liars, even if she was technically one of them.

  She was so lost in her own thoughts that she failed to notice the man silently stalking her. To be fair, she could have been on high alert and failed to notice him. Tigers were sneaky like that. There was only a hint of a breeze to warn her, and suddenly she was face to face with her target.

  Just as she’d thought. He couldn’t resist the chase.

  She knew her pulse was going a million miles a minute, and she would bet money that he could hear it. Still, maybe she could play it off as arousal rather than fear.

  Chase’s voice laughed in her head. Of course the guy would know it was fear. She shoved her brother to the back of her mind, let out a small gasp, and fluttered her hand over her heaving breasts. May as well play up the “damsel” character and draw his attention to her assets.

  “What in the world! You trying to scare me to death, sneaking up like that? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, treating a lady so.”

  The guy raised one mocking eyebrow.

  “Something tells me you’re not a lady."

  Diana couldn’t really be offended, not in a dress like the one she had on. Still, she gave him a disdainful look.

  “Well, you’re certainly not a gentleman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it‘s late.”

  “Yes, it is. And a lady such as yourself really shouldn’t be walking the streets alone. Especially in such a... ladylike outfit.”

  “I don’t suppose it’s any of your business.”

  He lifted one eyebrow.

  “On the contrary. Your disbelief aside, I pride myself on my chivalrous ways. You must allow me to escort you.”

  Diana snorted, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Snorting was not in keeping with her charade.

  “No, no, that’s quite alright. I can handle myself.”

  The guy sighed theatrically, his cape flapping slightly in the breeze. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel the same way. I’m afraid I insist.”

  She gave him a level stare, unable to hold back a jab.

  “Says the dude wearing a cape.”

  He looked genuinely offended. Point for Diana.

  “It’s not a cape, it’s a cloak. And perhaps if you were wearing
one, you wouldn’t be turning blue.”

  Point for the dude in a cape. She was getting pretty cold.

  But this wasn’t going according to plan – the guy was supposed to walk her back, not try to follow her home. She didn’t even have a home here. They were just squatting in some abandoned building until they could get Chase out.

  “Look, I appreciate the offer. Truth is, I’m not sure where I am. Someone was supposed to meet me, he never showed, and now I’m lost. I’m a visitor, you see.”

  The guy nodded, his face the picture of grave concern. “Hmm, I do see. Well I know the city quite well, do you have an address?”

  “Not really,” Diana said, trying to think fast.

  Jeez, what’s a girl gotta do to get invited back to a guy’s place?

  He stared at her, a calculating gleam in his now-ordinary brown eyes. This one was smart. Too smart. Diana swallowed back the sudden fear rising in her throat. He knew she was up to something. Would she be able to fool him?

  “Well madam, I believe I can do nothing else but implore you to take shelter in my home for the evening.”

  Bingo! She pretended to consider it, her face a mask of uncertainty. “Oh I don’t know. I mean, you’re a complete stranger. We don’t even know each other’s names!”

  “Oh of course! How rude of me.” He swept his cloak out in a deep bow. “Draven Isoba, at your service. And may I have the pleasure of your name?”

  “Diana Anders. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Anders. And now I believe we should hurry to my abode, lest you completely freeze.”

  Draven, most likely in an attempt to keep up his “gentleman” charade, unbuckled the clasp of his cloak and gently draped it around Diana’s shoulders. She was very grateful for the warm, snuggling into the luxurious fur.