by Lauren Dane
His cat loved her strength. She was fierce, the kind of woman a man could trust.
It probably wouldn’t have been as bad if he hadn’t scented her. Twice. That was more intimate than the brief kiss of a few nights ago. Now her scent lived in him. God in heaven she smelled like sex. Like sex and comfort; like strong, sexy witch, and his cat practically kneaded his insides to get to her.
No one had affected him the way she did and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. What he did know was the idea of her being in danger had set his cat so close to the surface he paced, on guard, just to keep his human skin. He supposed it was simply another piece of proof that she was indeed meant to be his.
“What do you sense?” he asked when she got near enough to hear.
“Nothing. Not even a smear of the dark energy. Maybe I was wrong.” She frowned, shivering. He stepped closer, giving her some of his body heat, satisfied when she stopped shivering.
He doubted very much that she’d been wrong about the attack, though. He’d watched her from day one. She seemed to have a good grasp of her abilities. “Do you really think so?”
She thought for long moments before shaking her head no. “I don’t think I was wrong at all.”
“Me either. I think you felt it and I think your father has something to do with it.”
Her eyes lost their warmth at the mention of her father, not that Max blamed her. He’d be right in line behind Jack and Galen when they finally got hold of Andrew Parcell, or whatever the fuck the man was really named.
“Now that we know he had some involvement in my mother’s death, I have every reason to believe he’s connected to these other attacks. I don’t like that. At all. I don’t know what they have of Renee’s. That bitch most likely kept her hair or other physical links. I think I found a way to nullify that. When I find them they’re going have to deal with me. I will find them. And they’ll pay. For what they did to our mother, and for what they did to my sister.”
Christ, when she got bloodthirsty it only made him want her more. He cocked his head and spoke before he meant to. “You enchant me.”
That startled her. “I do? Is that a good thing?”
He laughed. “Yes. No. Hell I don’t know, but I like it. I plan to explore that. With you. Just so you know.”
She pursed her lips. “Oh.” She licked her lips, as if she tasted the words before saying them. “All right.”
He shook his head at her when she grinned his way.
She’d hit him like a bus, knocked into his consciousness when he had least expected it. Kendra Kellogg left him dazed and wanting more. Earlier that afternoon when she’d come out of Renee’s office he’d just watched her. Fascinated that she looked like Renee, and yet totally different. Her chic curtain of super straight hair, short enough to leave her neck exposed, those eyes, far more green than brown, thickly lashed and God, the dimples at each corner of that fucking delicious mouth—she was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
He’d been deep in a naughty fantasy about a hunt to see if she had any more freckles than the ones he’d seen on her forearms, when her entire demeanor had changed, became serious.
His cat had gone on instant alert, dragging all the cats in the room into hypervigilance with him. Jack had as well, the wolves cued to his moods in much the same way. Max had stood, looking to her. Taking his cues from her.
It had been the way she braced her feet apart and took on an onslaught of dark magics that had really pushed him into acting at long last. The kiss had been impulsive, but now he was decisive. He wanted her and she needed to know it. Her ferocity had pushed every last one of his defenses away.
That and the look of fear and panic when Galen had touched her and he’d blocked the door, the recoil she was able to get control of fairly quickly. Someone had done that to her, hurt her so that despite her strength, her first instinct was to try to make herself smaller and get out of arm’s reach. Like prey.
Every male on the landing and in the hallway had felt it, seen it, and went into overdrive, wanting to protect her. Max did what he always did, he acted decisively and in doing so, found himself totally off balance and unsure for the first time since he was a teenage boy.
“Whatever it was or whoever sent it, it’s gone.” She looked around the yard, pretending he hadn’t just told her he’d set his cap for her. “It’s fine out here,” she said quietly.
“Are they safe?” He jerked a thumb toward the house.
“None of us are safe until this is dealt with. But this house and yard will hold safely. I’ll go out to Cambridge tomorrow and talk with Mary.”
“Mary?”
“She’s a powerful practitioner, a friend of my aunt’s. Mary’s been away for a month, but left a note that she’d be back this week and told me to stop in.” Kendra reached for the gate, and in her full view, slowly but firmly, Max put his hand over hers.
“You look shaken. I’m taking you to dinner.”
She opened her mouth, most likely to argue, these sisters were quite alike on that front.
“You can tell me about Mary and your plans. Fill me in on just how safe you are at your apartment too. Gibson will only ask me about it tomorrow anyway.”
“You’re bossy.”
“So everyone tells me. It’s my job to be bossy. But you’re no doormat, I know it and so do you.” He reached out and ran a fingertip over the tips of her hair. “No matter who tries to make you feel otherwise.”
“Why do you want to take me to dinner? Really?”
Oh she had no idea. He smiled at her, slow and assessing. Her eyes widened and then slid a quarter down, sexy and slumberous and all sorts of buttons and levers got pushed at the sight.
“I want to take care of you. You look pale. Got a heavy scare. And I like you.”
“Even if I’m feeling like steak and lobster?” She smirked, teasing. He liked it. Only his family teased him. It was intimate and showed she trusted him.
“Mmm, sounds very good.” He held out an arm and she sighed before taking it. “What? You thought I’d be scared off by an expensive dinner? I know just the place and you can have the biggest lobster in the tank if you want.”
“And cake?”
“Two slices, if that’s what you desire.”
He can’t fight his inner beast, but she can tame it.
Hunter’s Prey
© 2012 Moira Rogers
Bloodhounds, Book 2
Ophelia retired from life as a prostitute, but her new position is even more complicated. Managing the bloodhound manor in Iron Creek is difficult and time-consuming, a job she enjoys less with each passing day. Then there’s her inconvenient attraction to Hunter. The newly turned hound seems eager to enjoy her company, but wary of anything more intimate.
Having survived the violence of his first full moon out of a cage, Hunter isn’t looking forward to his first new moon. Ophelia offers to be the woman who sates his needs during the three long days of sexual fury, but he can’t abide the thought of hurting her in a state of mindless lust. Especially since she longs to settle into a respectable life, and his needs are anything but respectable.
Their mutual goal is simple: avoid entanglements. It’s a solid plan, at least until a vampire drug lord and a couple of nosy Guild representatives force them to work together to defend their friends and everything they hold dear—including each other.
Warning: Contains a mostly feral, vampire-hunting hero and a tough survivor of a heroine whose retired-hooker heart is more steel than gold. Also included: dangerous frontier intrigue, fancy brothels, mad-scientist weapons and a good dose of wicked loving in an alternate Wild West.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Hunter’s Prey:
She laid her hand against the bathroom door, then knocked softly. “Hunter? It’s me.”
The sound of pacing footsteps gave way to harsh breaths, each one a seeming effort. “Ophelia?”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the wood. “Op
en the door, honey.”
Something thumped against the wall to her right. A fist, maybe, or Hunter’s body. His snarl was low and rough. “I don’t want her. I won’t take her.”
“She’s gone. It’s just us now.”
Hesitation. She could almost taste his suspicion in the heavy silence between them. Then the lock clicked and the door edged open, revealing a glimpse of his bare chest and wild hair hanging over stormy blue eyes. “Just us?”
She could give him words, gentle and reassuring. Instead, she reached through the open door and trailed her hand down the center of his chest. “Come out, Hunter.”
The door vanished, thrown open with such force it bounced against the inside wall. But he was already there, falling on her like a bird streaking from the sky. He gripped the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair as he forced her body over his other arm in a vulnerable arc.
For an endless moment he only stared at her, breath whistling through his teeth as the heat of him wrapped around her. “Say yes.” Not a command. A shaking plea.
It didn’t matter that she already had. All that mattered was this moment, and him knowing he wasn’t demanding something she didn’t want to give. “Yes.”
He swallowed the word with a rough kiss that laid claim to more than her body, and for more than the new moon. His teeth closed on her lip with a growl, only to be replaced by his tongue, stroking in an imperious demand for entry.
She opened her mouth with a shudder, her head spinning. It was only a kiss, full of more hunger than skill, but her body responded with a shaky need she hadn’t anticipated.
That was when she knew. Hunter had been lying to himself, but so had she.
Her ready obedience seemed to soothe some of his madness. The fist in her hair relaxed enough to cradle the back of her head, and he eased her closer, until her body was pressed tight to his chest.
But the kiss went on and on, the kiss of a starving man grasping at sustenance he’d denied himself too long. She smoothed her fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders, testing the strength beneath his heated skin.
Tension hardened the muscles, and a warning growl vibrated against her lips.
Still fighting for control, even now, when no such thing existed for either of them. Ophelia worked her hands between them and tugged at the buttons securing her bodice.
This time he drew back and nipped at her jaw as he released her hair and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “I won’t be managed. Don’t say yes if you want to manage me.”
“I’m not. I don’t want to.” She twisted far enough to lick his earlobe. “I need you.”
He shook. “Put your hands behind your back.”
She closed her eyes and obeyed. “Am I not allowed to touch you?”
“Not yet.” The arm around her waist moved to trap her wrists, and he smiled against her cheek. “Give your body to me, pretty Ophelia. I’ll do wonderful things to you.”
She didn’t want to lie passively as he pleasured her. She wanted to share it with him, give him back the same pleasure in turn—but only one thing was really important right now. “What do you need from me?”
“Open your eyes.”
His voice had turned to a growl, more untamed beast than man. Ophelia looked up, met his gaze.
Dark, dark blue, like a frozen pond, except there was nothing cold about him. His mouth burned as he brushed his lips over hers. “Come to bed with me.”
He still had her hands trapped behind her back. She stretched up, chasing his mouth, and shivered when her tongue touched his. “Anything, Hunter.”
His teeth caught the tip of her tongue in a playful nip, only to release as he laughed, dark and hungry, and swept her off the floor. “Anything?”
She’d never made such a promise before, and wouldn’t have done it lightly. “Anything.”
Instead of tumbling her to the bed, he sank to the edge and let her body slide to the floor between his knees. “Undress.”
Her hands shook on the buttons of her dress. She’d never been so clumsy, so undone by the heat in a man’s gaze that she’d fumbled this badly. The world faded as Hunter watched her, leaving her starving and impatient.
She shrugged out of the sleeves and her dress fell to her hips, baring the skimpy French silk basque she wore beneath.
He touched her. Gently enough, though the roughened tips of his fingers abraded her skin as he traced the swell of her breast. “You’re beautiful on your knees.”
“Thank you.” Ophelia pushed off her shoes and rose, letting the dress drop to the floor. She brushed the pile of linen and leather aside and knelt before him again.
“Beautiful,” he echoed, and for a moment, he almost sounded like himself. Calmer, at least, for all the heat in his roving gaze. Then he stood. “Undress me.”
His chest was already bare, so she licked her lips and reached for his trousers. “Just undress you?”
He stroked her hair, ran his fingers through the loose strands before sinking deep to wrap the length around one fist. “For now.”
Ophelia rubbed her head against his hand, relishing the firm tug of his fingers in her hair as she left his trousers hanging open and pulled off his boots, one after the other. Then she returned to his pants, easing them down, drawing her fingertips slowly over hot skin and hard muscle.
Arousal threatened to cut off her breath. “I don’t know how long I can do this.”
He pulled her head back until her eyes met his. “Which game do you wish to play, Ophelia? Sweet submission, or wild domination?”
Beneath the Skin
Lauren Dane
A whole world exists…beneath the skin.
De La Vega Cats, Book 3
Gibson de La Vega is the Bringer, one of the Alpha’s right-hand cats. It is his job to mete out justice and defend the law that holds their jamboree together.
After a contentious meeting with another jamboree, he’s shot—Mia stumbles onto the scene and saves his life. He’s immediately drawn to the female who dug three silver bullets from his body. Even after he discovers she’s a Porter, a family his own harmed grievously half a century before.
Mia has enough in her life. She’s recovering from a vicious hate crime—an attack using silver has affected her ability to do what she loves most. The last thing she needs is a bossy alpha cat like Gibson. A de La Vega no less.
Despite the myriad reasons to stay away, even as they continue to hunt down the would-be killers, their attraction deepens into something else entirely.
The answers they find bring that threat far closer to home than anyone could have imagined and it’ll be up to Gibson to end the mess once and for all. And up to Mia to stand at his side, even as he risks his life…
Warning: A super hot alpha male with a gruff façade, and an uppity female who’s not buying it. Some violence. Some red-hot sex. Bad words. Lots of fun.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Beneath the Skin
Copyright © 2012 by Lauren Dane
ISBN: 978-1-61921-052-3
Edited by Anne Scott
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
&
nbsp; Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author
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