Cat Star 9 - Wildcat

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Cat Star 9 - Wildcat Page 12

by Cheryl Brooks


  Sara’s breath caught in her throat. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t in love now. She was about to tell Hilbransk she needed her head examined when Jerden gave her a nudge.

  “Uh, maybe so,” she admitted. “But I’m still not sure I need a dress like that—at least not right now.” She stole a glance at Jerden, who shot her a conspiratorial wink.

  “Why don’t you try it on?” he suggested.

  Her mouth fell open. “I… I guess I could.” Sara couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress. In fact, she wasn’t sure she ever had. Then she made the mistake of looking over at Bonnie, who was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

  I will never live this down…

  The next thing Sara knew, she was standing in the tiny dressing room at the back of Hilbransk’s booth, staring at her astonished reflection. If Jerden hadn’t spoken, she might have stood there in a dumbfounded trance for days.

  “Let’s have a look, Sara.”

  She didn’t want him to see her like this. Although the dress fit her perfectly, she felt overexposed, vulnerable. What was it he’d told Salan? That she was fascinating and sexy? She scowled at her reflection. If he only knew.

  Drawing in a fortifying breath, she pushed back the curtain. Jerden’s eyes swept her from head to toe, setting off a fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  “You look like a queen.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “I certainly don’t feel like one.” Unwilling to meet his gaze, she glanced down at the dress, plucking at the flowing fabric with nervous fingers. “This isn’t exactly my style.”

  “I disagree.” Moving closer, he raised her face to his with a finger beneath her chin. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Sara—whether you’ll admit it or not.” Lowering his head, he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “I think you should buy it.”

  His breath on her cheek made her chest tighten, and she backed away, clearing her throat with an effort. “I—I don’t have any use for a dress like this.”

  “You never know,” he said with an enigmatic smile. “You might need it someday.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked out of the shop.

  ***

  Jerden had been warned that he’d acquired a rather dark reputation since his arrival on Terra Minor, and the wary behavior of the townspeople proved it. Unlike his near-celebrity status on Rhylos, he now appeared to have become something of a social pariah.

  Time to alter that perception.

  Favoring the Twilanan with his most winning smile, he drew a deep-throated chuckle from her as he paid for the dress. Then he headed over to Bonnie and Lynx’s booth to wait for Sara, thankful that there were at least two friendly, familiar faces in the crowd.

  “You and Sara appear to have reached an understanding,” Lynx said as he approached. “When I asked her about selling you that horse, I wasn’t sure she’d ever speak to you again.”

  “Me, either,” said Bonnie. “Looks like you’ve won her over.”

  “Maybe,” Jerden conceded. “Then again, I may have ticked her off just now.”

  Sara had already changed back into her own clothes and was leaving the shop when the Twilanan woman handed her a bag containing the dress. Scowling, Sara draped the bag over her arm and stalked over to where Jerden stood. “You already paid for this?”

  “Yes, I did,” Jerden replied. Lifting his brow ever so slightly, he met her stormy gaze with one of bland innocence, hoping she’d take the hint.

  She glared at him for a moment before comprehension finally struck. “Oh. Well, then… thank you.” Her expression lightened briefly before settling back into a frown.

  “It’s so nice to see you here in town, Jerden,” Bonnie said. “I was beginning to think you’d never leave your place again.”

  Jerden shrugged. “I just needed a little time alone to get back to normal.”

  “We’re here to buy him some clothes,” Sara said abruptly. “I really didn’t need any,” she added in an undertone.

  “Well, then, we won’t keep you,” Lynx said with a wink. “Unless, of course, you need some eggs.”

  Jerden waited while Sara bought a few items from Bonnie, then they set off in search of a men’s clothing shop.

  They hadn’t gone far when Sara blew out an exasperated breath. “I swear to God, the next person who stares at you like you’ve got horns and a tail is getting a piece of my mind.”

  A sidelong glance revealed two Drells shuffling sideways to avoid crossing his path. Generally speaking, Drells didn’t step aside for anyone, unless they happened to be shouting obscenities. Drells couldn’t stand being sworn at.

  “I used to get plenty of looks whenever I walked the streets of Damenk, but the people of Nimbaza apparently see me in a different light.”

  “Well, if you ask me, it’s downright rude,” Sara declared. “Maybe you should growl at them.”

  Jerden chuckled. “Please, Sara. I’m doing my best not to act like a beast. Trust me, I’ve heard the stories—and the names. Savage, barbarian, heathen, wildcat… Bonnie and Lynx have been at great pains to bring it to my attention—probably hoping it would shake me up enough to reform.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll do it,” she said crossly. “Or maybe we should sic Cria on them.”

  Jerden glanced down at the leopard, walking silently by his side. “She’s much too peace-loving for that. Then again, she might be part of the problem.”

  “I doubt it,” said Sara. “Everyone is looking at you, not her.”

  “Still, I’d rather not provoke an incident.” One horrific episode on a crowded street per lifetime was quite enough.

  “Suit yourself.” Pausing as they reached the corner, she studied the next row of shops. “Maybe we should’ve asked Lynx where he gets his clothes. I have no idea where to look.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find something. Who knows? We might even stumble across some classy jewelry for you to wear with that dress.”

  Sara snorted a laugh. “You are such a spendthrift.”

  “Tightwad,” he shot back.

  They were both laughing when Jerden glanced up, his gaze meeting that of a woman standing in a doorway across the square—a Davordian woman with wild blue eyes and long dark hair. The impact from that brief eye contact nearly knocked him off his feet. Suddenly, the air in his lungs was too cold and thick to breathe. Then he blinked and she was gone.

  Sara tugged at his hand, her brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “I thought I saw… never mind. It was nothing.”

  Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. What did you see?”

  Jerden sucked in a painful breath. “Sorry. I’m not used to talking about this. I get… flashbacks of Audrey’s murder sometimes. For a long time afterward, every woman I saw reminded me of either Audrey or her killer.” A shudder he couldn’t suppress shook his entire body. “The woman I saw just now didn’t look like Audrey.”

  Sara didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “But they caught her, didn’t they? She’d be in jail or a mental institution on Rhylos, right?”

  Nodding slowly, Jerden continued to stare at the doorway, half expecting the woman to rematerialize out of thin air. “I suppose so. Surely they’d notify me if she escaped or was released.”

  “And even if she did escape, the odds of her setting foot on this world are astronomical. You know how tough the restrictions are.”

  Sara’s brisk tone cleared his mind better than anything else could. “You’re right. I must’ve imagined her.” He grimaced as it hit him that this explanation probably sounded even worse. “Not much better, is it? Either I’m insane or I’m being stalked.”

  “You’re not insane and you’re not being stalked. You just saw a woman who reminded you of someone. What did sh
e look like?”

  “A Davordian with long dark hair and crazy eyes.”

  Sara nodded. “There are lots of Davordians living around here. It’s not surprising that you should see one who resembles Audrey’s killer. You may even see that same woman again sometime.”

  “I certainly hope not,” he declared. “That’s the main reason I’ve been living out in the middle of nowhere and never set foot in town.” He raked a hand through his hair, wishing he could rip the memory from his mind. “Damn. I thought I was over that.” He studied Sara’s clear green eyes—eyes that were steady, sober, and sane. “You were the first woman I’d met since then who didn’t remind me of either of them. I looked at your face and only saw you.”

  For an instant, she seemed stunned but recovered quickly. “You were already improving by then.” Her voice was firm, though her eyes wavered, glancing downward. “Don’t attach any more meaning to it than that.”

  “And don’t you discount your role in my return to sanity.” He cupped her face in his hands, focusing his gaze on hers. “You saved me, Sara. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you saved me.”

  Jerden closed his eyes, leaving only the warmth of her skin against his palms and her scent to identify her. His vision could betray him, but those other senses never had. “Being with you makes me feel almost normal again. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  “I might.” Her voice sounded choked with emotion. Opening his eyes, he saw tears glistening on her lashes.

  The bustling crowd recalled him to their surroundings, dispelling the brief interlude of intimacy. Even so, he vowed never to forget the way she looked at that moment—her understanding smile, the way she tilted her head to lean into his hand, the tears swimming in her eyes.

  Brushing away her tears, she attempted a smile. “We’d better get going before somebody fusses at us for loitering.”

  “Right.” Turning, he curled his arm around her waist, noting her lack of protest. “You’re getting better at this acting-like-a-couple thing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying—although I wasn’t expecting to have to pretend in front of everybody. You nearly provoked a quarrel when you bought me that dress.”

  “Sorry. I probably should’ve warned you, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “Oh, you surprised me, all right.” She shifted the bags to her other hand. “Guess I should put my arm around you, shouldn’t I?”

  “Yeah—and you should let me carry those bags.”

  She handed the bags over without protest, then looped an arm around him to rest her hand on his hip. Jerden drew her closely to his side, steering her away from where he’d seen that strange woman. He wasn’t afraid for himself—the threat to his species from the Nedwut bounty hunters had long since been eliminated—but he couldn’t shake the niggling fear that being with him might put Sara in danger. After all, Audrey had been killed while walking beside him on a crowded street…

  As his eyes swept the market square, he spotted numerous Zetithian children playing with the offspring of a dozen other species. That fact alone should have reassured him, but he suspected it would be years before crowds ceased to have a disquieting effect, if indeed the memory ever left him completely. In the meantime, he would take no chances. Any crazy Davordian taking potshots at Sara would have to get past him first.

  ***

  Regardless of Sara’s intention to behave as normally as possible—finding a shop, helping Jerden pick out clothes, telling him how great he looked in them—a sense of foreboding remained. She doubted that the woman Jerden had seen was actually Audrey’s killer. However, the fact that she still haunted him was a little unnerving. Recalling her own lingering fears helped her to place it in the proper context, but she was astonished at how much Jerden’s peace of mind concerned her now. That stricken look on his face was one she never wanted to see again.

  The afternoon was warm and sunny, and he wore a pair of khaki shorts out of the first store they visited. She’d encouraged him to look at Terran apparel, preferring to avoid the exotic garb offered by the Twilanans and the heavier robes worn by those species that couldn’t tolerate the sun. He’d also bought a couple of T-shirts, but in her eyes, they were all wrong for him. Actually, everything he put on seemed out of place—except for the jeans he tried on at the next shop.

  He pulled back the fitting room curtain. “What do you think?”

  Snug in all the right places, they even made Sara consider grabbing his ass. She could hardly wait to see Drania’s reaction. “Totally hot.”

  “Really?” He twisted sideways to get a better look at himself in the mirror.

  “Trust me. Women will swoon.”

  “If I wanted that to happen, I wouldn’t be buying clothes.”

  “Can’t be helped,” she said with a slow wag of her head. “Once everyone realizes you aren’t really a hissing, spitting wildcat, women will be panting after you just like they did on Rhylos—and even Cria won’t be able to scare them away.”

  The leopard gave Sara a sly look, as though agreeing with her assessment.

  Unzipping the jeans, Jerden skimmed them off. “Does that bother you?”

  “Why would it bother me? I mean, we’re not really dating.” She paused, frowning. “Are we?”

  He didn’t reply immediately, taking a moment to pull on a pair of Paemayan lounging pants. “No, we aren’t really dating. What about these?”

  “Too baggy,” she said after a moment’s scrutiny. “They make you look like a harem slave.”

  “According to Lynx, harem slaves don’t wear anything,” Jerden pointed out. “I could wear them around the house.”

  Sara shrugged. “Suit yourself. They do look comfortable.”

  His eyes swept over her. “You’d look nice in the female version. Maybe I’ll get you a pair for your birthday.”

  He’d already bought her a dress she’d probably never wear, whether she looked like a queen in it or not. “Don’t bother. Besides, my birthday isn’t for a couple of months yet.” She grimaced. “I’ll be thirty-four. Getting plumb old.”

  Jerden snickered. “I’m thirty-nine, but, trust me, I am not getting old.”

  “Yes, but you Zetithians live longer than humans. Thirty-nine is more like twenty-nine for you, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “So, how does it feel to be dating—er, pretending to date—a younger man?”

  Given the circumstances, his age was irrelevant. “Okay, I guess.”

  Rolling his eyes, he shot her a sardonic smile. “Think you could curb your enthusiasm?”

  “Sorry. If you want enthusiasm, you should talk to my mother. She’d be positively ecstatic to see us together.”

  “Even though I’m not human?”

  Sara’s mother had given up on her daughter finding a man so long ago, she would see him as the answer to a prayer, whether he was human or not. “Trust me, she wouldn’t care if you were a Norludian.”

  “What about you? Got a problem hanging around with a Zetithian?”

  “Not if you don’t mind hanging around with a Terran.”

  “I think I can do that.” Quirking an eyebrow, he stripped off the lounging pants. “So, are we friends now?”

  Since Sara had already seen him naked more often than not, she couldn’t help chuckling as she glanced at his groin. “I certainly hope so.”

  ***

  After dropping Jerden off at his place, Sara drove home, wondering what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Although she’d done fairly well in public, the return trip had been characterized by an awkward silence. Jerden didn’t seem to be the problem. He was congenial and considerate, but his attempts at small talk had sent her anxiety level skyrocketing. On top of that, she’d never been more confused in her life. Were they a couple in private as well as in public? Could she expect frequent visits from him or wo
uld they simply go out on the occasional date to allay suspicion? There had to be an easier way to get Nate out of her life. However, short of having him deported, Sara couldn’t come up with one.

  Later that evening—unable to even think about trying to sleep—she lay on the couch with her computer in hand, scrolling through the list of building contractors in the area. She’d gotten a good deal from the company she’d hired to build her barns, but if Jerden’s pockets were as deep as she suspected, he could build a real showplace if he wanted to. Sara could help him with that. Most women had ideas for their dream house. Sara’s ideas were for a dream barn.

  Searching for available Friesians was even more fun. With gracefully arched necks and curly manes and tails, Friesians were as big and black and powerful as Jerden himself. Most of the photos she found were three dimensional and could be rotated in any direction. She was drooling over a particularly fine stallion when she heard a tap at the back door.

  She glanced at the clock. It was late—long past her usual bedtime and way too late for visitors. “Oh, let me guess,” she muttered. “That dratted stallion is gone again.”

  But it wasn’t Zatlen at the door this time. Nor was it Jerden. It was Nate.

  And her door wasn’t locked. Living out in the boonies as she did with her stable hands nearby, she’d never felt the need. Obviously, she’d been wrong. Suddenly, having Jerden as her bodyguard—or a live-in boyfriend—didn’t seem like such a ridiculous idea. At least she’d had sense enough to flip on the light and not open the door before peering out the window to see who was standing on her porch. Engaging the lock, she shouted, “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry if I scared you this morning.”

  “You could have just called me.”

  “I wanted to apologize in person.”

  “Took you long enough to do it,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  She raised her voice a notch. “I said, you picked one hell of a time to come knocking on my door. I’m fine. Apology accepted. Just don’t ever try to kiss me again.”

 

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