© Summer Donnelly, 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.
Having Her Jaguar’s Baby
Summer Donnelly
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Other Books by Summer Donnelly
Prologue
Forty-year-old Rafael Joaquín Chamorro cried out as he woke from a dead sleep. He panted in the quiet of his bedroom before wiping one large hand across his face. He looked around to get his bearings. The familiar artwork, the crisp cotton sheets, and the gentle purr of a cat grounded him.
“You’re fine, asshole,” he reminded himself. He was not trapped in a cage in some God-forsaken Latin American country. Not wearing his once sharp canines down on wire bars. Not pacing relentlessly in an area the size of a one-car garage. “You’re home.”
His coal-black hair, with the first touches of silver in it, was drenched in sweat. His body felt clammy and uncomfortable. Even the lush, high-end sheets felt rough against his skin.
Rafe ran his hands down his arms to push away the sensation of needles poking at him. He wasn’t a test subject to be poked, prodded, and tormented. His time in prison was over.
He swept the covers off his trim, muscular body before walking to the open window. He lifted the screen and leaned out. His sensitive eyes picked up the shadows of Maxwell Mountain in the distance. Since fighting in the revolution in Quibria, he hadn’t been able to sleep well. A decade of sleep deprivation pulled at a man’s soul.
Rafe rubbed his hand over thick stubble and closed his tired, gritty eyes. He couldn’t wait until the weather warmed up again. Rafe could usually catch a few more hours of sleep outside, but with winter around the corner, even he craved warmth.
He bent his head, letting the cold light of the moon wash him clean. Rinse away the memories of his time in a cage at the mercy of a Quibrian general.
Following the first World War, the United States government put their best scientists onto Project Shifter. By the end of the 1940s, they managed to figure out how to splice human and animal DNA to create viable super soldiers who could shift from human to animal.
Even knowing what he knew now, Rafe wasn’t sure he would change his decision. He felt such a kinship with his jaguar form and pitied civilians for never knowing the freedom. He’d been born and raised in Nicaragua, home of the big cat.
The handlers offered multiple animals for him to merge with but for him, it was always going to be the sleek, muscular jaguar of his native homeland.
And yet, he resented the hell out of the government’s restrictions on mating, marriage, and offspring. “Puchica!” Damn it. He muttered the swear out of frustration as he rubbed at his dry, tired eyes. Irritation rode him like a mosquito bite he couldn’t reach. He wanted a wife. Kids. The picket fence and even a cat or two.
The things he wanted were off limits because of a contract he signed at eighteen.
Palms itched to touch silken skin. To have the scent of her shampoo on his pillows again. But without her, he was damned.
In a split second decision, Rafe sought comfort he didn’t deserve. He inhaled, tracking her elusive scent that calmed his aching beast. Melody.
A hint of autumn rose, watermelon lip gloss, and the ephemeral scent of a woman. His woman.
“No,” Rafe argued with himself. “Not our woman. She can’t be.”
He caught the tendrils of her aroma in the night breeze and felt his body tighten in response. Lying to himself about her was becoming a dangerous habit. He leaned back into the room, his skin tight with a combination of arousal and cold.
His jaguar pulsed against his skin, seeking a run in the cold stillness of the autumn night. To run to her. “And then what?”
Rafe made it a vow to never lie to himself. There was no future between them. Melody was a sweet woman in need of a strong man in her life. And as much as he ached to be that man, he couldn’t be.
How was it possible to love the decision he’d made at eighteen while simultaneously hating it?
“An hour,” Rafe promised Jag. The cat was crying in him, begging to go on a run. There were meetings in the morning and properties to show. Money to make and deals to cut. But for now, both he and his jaguar needed to stretch muscles. Rafe slid the screen back into place and walked to the French doors that lead to his backyard.
His inner cat purred with contentment at the thought of catching a glimpse of Melody. Rafe wasn’t sure he trusted the fuzzy bastard, though. His jaguar was a one-woman animal and had decided Melody Strauss was the woman for him. Them. Whatever.
Rafe knew better. He was the one who lived with not being able to sleep in a house without windows open. He was the one who woke with the nightmares of cages and medical tests. Rafe was the one who had looked into Melody’s sage-green eyes when she realized he had used her for a one-night stand.
No, he’d effectively burned that bridge.
He leaped and shifted in mid-air. When his sensitive paws touched the damp grass, he couldn’t resist the pull to announce his presence. After sharpening his claws on a nearby Douglas Fir, the jaguar disappeared into the night.
Chapter One
Melody
“Of course, you can stay with us,” Lacey St. Claire said, reaching over and holding onto Melody’s hand. “But you need to tell Rafe.”
Melody glanced down at her ragged, bitten nails. She’d been an absolute wreck since seeing the symbol change on the pregnancy test. Had been surviving on toast and decaf tea the last few weeks as her body adjusted to the new life she carried within her. But she hadn’t seen her roommate’s reaction coming, and it had rocked her foundation.
“Like it’s that easy? Just walk up to the man and say – hey, remember me and our one-night stand we had exactly seventeen weeks ago? Oh, how can I time it so well? Surprise! I’m pregnant. Congrats!” Twenty-seven-year-old Melody Strauss stood up and walked around the little two-bedroom cottage Lacey shared with her mate, Quinn Maxwell. Absently, she massaged the aching spot over her heart. The pain was growing in scope, but Melody didn’t want to see yet another doctor.
Melody turned, her waist-length caramel-colored hair swinging with her agitation. Up until twenty minutes ago, Melody had worked in a salon in the nearby town of Silver Fells, North Carolina and shared a pretty Victorian with a roommate in the downtown area. But, upon announcing her pregnancy, Melody’s roommate had kicked her out.
“Well, I don’t see why you wouldn’t tell him. You know he’s the father, right?” Lacey was reasonable, as always.
Tears welled in Melody’s eyes. “Stupid baby hormones,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes. “Yes, I haven’t been with anyone else in a few years. But everyone knows it’s hard for shifters to have babies. He could just call me a liar and walk away.”
“Hard but not impossible,” Lacey reminded her friend. Lacey’s hand touched her own flat stomach and Melody felt a pang of guilt. Lacey wanted a baby with everything in her and clung to the hope that one day she and Quinn would get pregnant.
“True,” Melody said, drawing the word out slowly.
“And as I said, you can stay here. Quinn and I love having company.”
“I think you like the company. Quinn only tolerates us invading his resort.”
Lacey waved a scoffing hand. “Quinn likes anything that makes me happy. These cabins are here for people who need them.”
“Paying shifters to stay here,” Melody reminded her friend. She stood and walked out to look at the three other cabins that made up Maxwell Mountain Resort. “Letting friends and family stay in them for free isn’t good for business.”
Lacey shrugged. “We’ve had a lot of shifters staying here this past year. Hunter was here for a few months. Then Dan. Trust me, there is something magical about Little Yellow. That’s where you need to live for a while.”
Melody nodded. Hunter Bromstad was a bear shifter who found his mate and fell in love with Hadley Mills. They eventually found a place of their own and moved out. Dan met Kimber, Hunter’s sister while living on the mountain and they realized they were mates. You didn’t need a Ph.D. in mind reading to know Lacey was a born matchmaker.
“You should give up being a vet tech,” Kimber teased. “I hear there is a great future in matchmaking.”
Lacey giggled in response. “Ooh. An online dating service for shifters! What should I call it? Paws for Love?”
“How about Mama Llama’s Matchmaking service?” Melody suggested, feeling silly for the first time since the argument with Abby, her roommate.
“I like it!”
“You like everything llama-related,” Melody accused.
Lacey nodded. “What’s not to like? Llamas are the new unicorns.”
Melody sighed and turned serious. “I’m not looking for a mate, though. Just a safe place to stay while I figure out what I’m going to do.”
Lacey stood behind her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “That’s what Kimber did when she first showed up, too. She stayed in Little Yellow and see how that turned out?”
Kimber had met her mate.
“What if I ruin the good luck in Little Yellow?” Melody asked, turning to embrace Lacey. It was a silly name for a cabin, but what else did you call a little yellow cottage in the woods?
“Everything will be okay,” Lacey assured her. “You’ll follow the doctor’s orders, deliver a healthy baby, and ignore whatever Abby said.”
“I feel so lost.”
“I know you do, sweetie. Did you call your folks?” Lacey hugged her friend. She’d become the de facto mother of their circle of friends and enjoyed helping them all.
Melody shrugged. “They’re pretty anti-shifter. I don’t want to repeat what Mother said.” Despite their decades of dedicated service, prejudice still existed against the men and women in the Shifter Special Forces.
The two women were quiet for a moment as they stood by the window. Chrysanthemums bloomed, and leaves swirled in an autumnal breeze. So much peace, Melody thought, when she was in so much turmoil.
“Okay, so your folks won’t help. At least you know that to start. When does Abby want you to leave?”
Melody lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I kind of hoped you would say yes. Legally, I have until the 30th, but I’d like to be out sooner. She’s already got an ad looking for a new roommate.”
Lacey tightened her arm light around Melody before turning away from the window. “Let’s get you packed up then.”
Melody nodded. “This afternoon. I need to talk to Rafe first.”
“Sounds good. Can we meet at your place around three? Quinn can ride into town in the truck and give you a hand.”
“What can Quinn do?” Quinn asked as he entered from the kitchen.
“Hey sexy,” Lacey said. She embraced her mate and giggled when Quinn nuzzled into her neck.
Melody felt like an intruder and looked away. Was it so wrong to want a man who loved you? Who craved only you? She felt like such a fool, gambling on a hook up turning into love.
“Melody got kicked out of her apartment and needed a place to live.”
“Let me guess. You offered up Little Yellow.”
Lacey grinned. “You know me too well. But where else will she stay?”
“There are two other guest cottages,” Quinn pointed out dryly.
Lacey waved him off. “I met you in Little Yellow, remember?”
“How could I forget?” Quinn’s voice turned dark and intimate. Melody felt her heart beat a little faster at the closeness they shared.
“There is healing magic in that cabin,” Lacey continued as though Quinn hadn’t said anything. It’s where too many of us have found our souls as well as our soul mates.”
Quinn tugged his mate closer. “We’d love to have you, Melody. I like to tease my mate occasionally.”
Melody smiled somewhat wistfully at the two of them. One day, she assured herself, she would find that kind of love.
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble in protest.
Lacey partially turned, her arms still around Quinn. “Are you hungry? Of course, you are. Let’s get you something to eat.” She brushed a kiss on Quinn’s cheek. “We need to feed Melody and the baby.”
Quinn froze. “You’re pregnant,” he asked, looking sharply at Melody.
Melody nodded slowly. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Just unexpected.” He tilted his head but didn’t say anything else.
Melody breathed a massive sigh of relief. Quinn might suspect who the father was but was too polite to ask directly. That brought her a little more time, she figured.
Rafael
“Mr. Chamorro, the committee doesn’t understand your position on this project,” Mayor Stan Holt said as he reviewed the report Rafe had prepared.
“Did you read it, Mayor Holt?” Rafe asked, feeling his face form into a glare. Despite being mayor of the town, Holt was nothing but a varón, a boy who sees nothing but his own wants and desires.
Composing himself, Rafe glanced at his admin, Kimber. Even she flinched away from him. Good. That meant he had just the right amount of animosity on his face. Death glares were hard to perfect.
“Of course, I did,” Holt said, stammering in such a way over his words that Rafe knew the man was lying to him even before the scent of deceit reached his sensitive nostrils.
“As my proposition clearly states on page ten.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table to wait until the Mayor and his committee turned to the appropriate page. “I want to buy a hundred-acre parcel on the edge of Maxwell Mountain.”
“For a bobcat sanctuary?”
Rafe shook his head. “For bobcat habitat,” he clarified. “Among other animals, of course. As I explained on page eleven, I am calling it Bobcat Alley. Between the mountain and this parcel of land, it will provide close to twenty-five thousand acres of protected land for the natural species.”
“And why would we want to do that? Lots of hunters out there will be mighty annoyed.”
Rafe suppressed his irritation with Holt’s stammering. “Bobcats are trapped for their fur. Not even all the fur, just their bellies. I think we owe it to the only natural big cat in North Carolina to protect some of their habitats.” He paused, letting silence do the job of yelling. “Don’t you, Mayor?” He used the laser-sharp focus of his gaze to pin every man and woman on the committee. “Don’t you all?”
“And if you decide to sell the land?” asked the women sitting on the end.
“I won’t sell it,” Rafe assured her. “As you can see on page twelve.” He paused, allowing everyone to turn their page. “There are allowances for some buildings if, down the road, I decide to add a sanctuary or rehab facility on there. But come what may, that land will be held in trust for the cats.”
“And why save the bobcat? They aren’t endangered in North Carolina.”
“That’s true,” Rafe conceded. “Bobcats are part of the food chain web of life in our forests. They help keep the rodent population in ch
eck, which in turn can reduce illnesses like Lyme disease.”
Rafe paced in front of the table where the committee members sat. He addressed them all by looking into their eyes as he spoke.
“Bobcats can be seen as a symbol for other forest-dwelling animals. Migratory birds, bear, mink, fox, snakes and many other species rely on forests for food and shelter. By protecting the bobcat, we’re are protecting a habitat that is important to species diversity and the overall health and balance of the ecosystem.”
Rafe sat down next to his admin and waited for them to respond. Kimber was a gauge he used to judge other people. If she was relaxed, Rafe knew he’d done a credible job. But she sat there, stiff and unyielding. The battle was far from over.
Holt’s lips twisted in an ugly manner and Rafe felt his hackles rise as he waited for the mayor to speak.
“And what do you want from us, Mr. Chamorro?”
“Not much. This is a cash deal with the current owner. The biggest impact from the township of Silver Fells is to agree to update the current sewer system. With the apartments going in over the next few years, it will put too much of a strain on the current system. In order to keep the water clean, the town will need to do updates to the sewer system.”
“Expensive updates,” Holt commented as he scanned through the pages of the report.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think a price tag could be put on clean water.” Sarcasm clearly dripped from every word Rafe spoke. He knew they were expensive upgrades, but he wasn’t a newcomer to Holt or his way of doing things.
Rafe was a numbers guy. He’d read the yearly budget and tracked the money budgeted every year for upgrades. He’d also followed up and found the reserves were never spent on the new infrastructure.
“Pages twenty and twenty-one show the amount of money budgeted over the last decade for upgrading the current sewer and water system. If you’d be so kind, page twenty-two shows major expenditures that were done.”
“This says only a few thousand dollars’ worth of repairs were done,” the woman at the end of the table said.
“Indeed,” Rafe commented. “The rest of the money should be in the necessary accounts, ready to spend to perform whatever maintenance is required.”
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