by Em Ashcroft
The Tigers of Texas 10
Back at the Ranch
When Thea comes to Goldclaw Ranch, Texas, for her sister’s wedding, two sexy shape-shifters mark her as their own. But their sexy times in the bedroom--and everywhere else--can’t last longer than a weekend. Thea has a life to get back to in New York, and the tigers belong to Texas. But when Thea is betrayed by the people she trusts most, she only has Blade and Renaud Goldclaw to turn to.
Blade never meant to fall in love. Living for the day was his motto. But Renaud falls deeply for her and wants to commit. Their differences trouble Thea. She won’t be the cause of the two breed partners splitting up.
But she is hopelessly in deep with both of them, and when they introduce her to the wildest time she’s ever had in bed and out of it, they ruin her for other men. She wants them badly, but for everyone’s sake she has to let them go.
Or does she?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifters
Length: 51,926 words
BACK AT THE RANCH
The Tigers of Texas 10
Em Ashcroft
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
BACK AT THE RANCH
Copyright © 2017 by Em Ashcroft
ISBN: 978-1-64010-723-6
First Publication: November 2017
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
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www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Em is everywhere. She may be watching you right now!
Em Ashcroft is a woman with myriad lovers and a ton of stories to tell. She is waited on hand and foot by her assistants. She lives on chocolate and champagne, flies first class all over the world, and dresses only from the best designers—when she dresses at all!
Em is creativity personified. She loves history, art, and naughty, naughty sex. Sinful, beautiful and irresistible, she is everything she wants to be.
Em has this thing about history. She spends a lot of time visiting old houses and old cities, and taking a bunch of photos. She uses all these in her books, and can’t stop researching. It’s an addiction, but not one that she regrets. She also loves travel, but she does that as much in her head as she does for real.
Then she gets up from her desk and she becomes someone else entirely.
Visit her website at: http://emashcroft.blogspot.co.uk/
Email her at: [email protected]
For all titles by Em Ashcroft, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/em-ashcroft
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
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
Chapter Sixteen
Landmarks
Cover
BACK AT THE RANCH
The Tigers of Texas 10
EM ASHCROFT
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Thea fluffed the voluminous skirts of her pink bridesmaid dress, the tulle sticking to her fingers with static. Meringue was an understatement. So was pink. This thing was a cotton candy nightmare. And how had her sister found the exact shade that made her look too hot and ill? The fact that she was feeling sick had nothing to do with it, and there’d better be no open fires nearby. This being late March in Texas, that seemed unlikely, but she wouldn’t put anything past Ladonna right now.
Her sister had turned into double bridezilla with a cherry on top. But Thea knew better than to argue about her gown. With Ladonna shrieking in the background, her hysterical tears growing worse, damage limitation had to go into action. And she was it.
As she moved to leave the changing room, her left nipple popped out of the top of the corset bodice. Sighing, she stopped to force it back in. She’d never last a whole wedding and reception without disgracing herself. Taking a moment, she shoved her breasts down and lifted the corset up. Maybe a bit of tulle from the skirt might come in handy as a wrap. But she wouldn’t be looking in mirrors dressed like this.
When she took a deep breath, black spots danced before her eyes and the room whirled around. She blinked to clear her vision. The chair holding her clothes clattered to the floor as her skirts swept it over, but she didn’t have time to cope with that now.
Outside, the owner of the boutique, hands propped on her curvy hips, glared at Ladonna. Since Thea’s sister was making enough noise to drown the sound of a battleship with all its horns going, she couldn’t do much else.
Thea’s heart sank. The video operator was taking in the whole of the scene. Marching over to him, Thea tapped him on the shoulder and ignored his double take when he caught sight of her in all her–– magnificence. His eyes bulged. Risking another accident, Thea leaned close. “You can turn that off for now. In case you’ve forgotten, we employed you. I want to know that you’ve destroyed this. She’s got wedding nerves, that’s all.”
Grinning, the man turned the small camera off and lowered it. “So not an Instagram teaser, then?”
“Shit, no.”
Now he laughed. Thea hated him. Turning her back, she gathered enough of the skirts for her to march over to her sister and stand right in her field of vision. “What’s wrong?”
“Pink!” With a shaking hand, Ladonna pointed to a side table that sported an innocuous slice of cake. “That’s not pink, it’s peach!” Only it came out like “PEEEEECH!”
Shit, fuck, and ass. Saying she saw nothing wrong wouldn’t help calm Ladonna down at this point. At least the screaming had stopped. “I think it makes a great statement. Very modern.”
“You’re fucking kidding me! Modern? Wrong, that’s what it is!” And she went off again, yelling. When she swept toward the table with the clear intent of knocking the plate off it, Thea’s gown pulled at her waist. Automatically, she grabbed the bodice, and the sound of a rip gave her the bad news. At least it had happened to her dress and not her sister’s hugely expensive–– and plain huge–– wedding gown. Maybe she should rip some more off the fucking thing. How could she spend a whole day in this? Already she was hyperventilating. And food–– forget it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Thea saw the other customers in the boutique leaving–– fleeing would be a better way of putting it. This place was damned exclusive, hushed, full of people being nice to each other. But it was a wedding boutique. So had people acted that way before?
Renata, the owner of the plac
e or, rather, the person who rented this concession from the hotel, deliberately flattened her hands against the slim skirt of her royal blue dress. The twin skintight bangles she wore on each wrist gleamed in the sun. She stepped forward. “Ms. Rossi, I’m sure we can sort this matter to your satisfaction. Maybe the chef can do something. Or we can replace the bows on your gown.”
Because Ladonna had insisted on having bright pink bows festooned over the skirts of her wedding gown. After all, it was Chester’s favorite color, or so she said. Hence the cotton candy. Thea didn’t care if she never saw the color again. Ever. And she used to like pink. She had thought that no shade of pink looked bad on her, but Ladonna had performed the miracle.
“Ms. Rossi, if you would listen––”
“Dot, do something, Dot.”
Thea hated that whining tone, she really did. Her sister was just building up for round two, when she’d add frantic tears to the volume.
Thea winced. She should really do something, but the suddenness of the crazy had taken her by surprise, shocked her into panic.
“Ladonna, for fuck’s sake––”
Her voice bounced off the walls in the sudden silence. Ladonna faced the door, mouth open, but with no sound coming out of it.
Pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen from the elaborate up-do, Thea slowly turned around, the swish of her skirt the only sound in the hush.
And there he stood. A tall man, dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit that didn’t conceal the contours of the perfect body beneath it, stood in the doorway, filling it. His face was the most perfect Thea had ever seen, each crisp line placed there by a master. And she should know. She’d talked to this man, researched him online, imagined that she knew what he looked like.
Fuck, was she wrong.
Her jaw dropped.
He smiled. At her. “Ms. Dorothea Rossi?”
Thea snapped her jaw shut and nodded.
“I am delighted to meet you, at last.” He walked forward, every muscle on his taut frame in harmony. Shit, this man could dance with himself. Every move he made, every glance he shot around the room, reminded her of what he was. This man was dangerous, the peril only lightly hidden. But that wasn’t what struck her dumb. It was the sheer perfection of the man.
Bracing herself, she stuck out her hand, her fingers shaking. He grasped it warmly and placed his other hand on top. “You are most efficient, Ms. Rossi, which is a pleasant change from some planners I have dealt with.” His barely-there nod to the cameraman made the video start again. “You look…” He scanned her body, top to bottom and back, heating Thea in places she preferred not to think about this weekend. Her pussy dampened, as if he’d ordered it to.
His voice fell away for a brief, telling moment. He cleared his throat. “Magnificent,” he murmured before turning smoothly away to face Ladonna.
He kept his body between Thea and the cameraman. Was that on purpose? He’d certainly spotted her breasts, bulging like balloons above the too-tight gown. His gaze had fixated on them for a full second before he’d moved on.
“Ms. Ladonna Rossi, I believe, but not for much longer.”
Blushing, Ladonna smiled, and Thea could have sworn she bobbed the beginning of a curtsy. Insane. This man had stopped everything dead just by coming in here. “My fiancé is arriving later today.”
“Good. I feel you are burning on empty. Allow me to treat you to dinner in the restaurant tonight.”
“Oh!” Ladonna gasped.
“That’s very kind of you, but there’s no need.” Was this gorgeous man really thinking of sitting down with them tonight? How could Thea even imagine eating a crumb? And yet she’d been starving herself for weeks to get into this gown. What a waste of time that had been.
He swung to speak to her. “Order whatever you wish. Unless you have other plans, of course?” He raised a brow.
“N-no.” It had taken a lot of effort to get Ladonna to have her bachelorette party last week before they arrived here. Thea shuddered to think of what Ladonna and her friends could have done to this beautiful house. Their parties tended to the riotous. Even getting engaged to a scion of New York high society hadn’t stopped her. “He loves that about me,” Ladonna had said and carried on regardless.
To hear her sister so meek and mild shocked Thea even more than the entrance of Blade Goldclaw, playboy, billionaire, part owner of the Goldclaw Ranch, and a shape-shifting tiger.
And, as it turned out, her fantasy man.
* * * *
The bride didn’t interest Blade at all, but he needed to get her calmed down before he could concentrate on the business that had brought him here. The bride-banshee wore something that would look better on top of a Christmas tree, preferably smothered with fairy lights. Her blonde hair almost glowed with dye. If her hair was as richly dark as her sister’s, he couldn’t imagine why she’d put it through the torture hairdressers inflicted on black hair to make it blonde.
The sisters had the same blue eyes, too, but the dark-haired one, Dorothea, drew him, and had since he’d heard her first breathy, “Hello,” on the phone three months ago. Despite that hideous pink dress and the way her boobs were crammed into the bodice, she had an air the other lacked.
He wouldn’t enter her mind, and in any case, he didn’t need to. But he had to calm this down. When he’d entered, he’d spread a light air of calm, spread the suggestion over everyone, and received a glare from Renata for his pains. He chuckled. Renata, one of the few female shape-shifters left to them, and the beloved breedmate of the police captain and the fire chief, knew exactly what he was doing.
Why didn’t you do something?
I was about to, she fired back, but you have to come and stamp your huge paws all over it.
He sent her an unrepentant grin. “I think, ladies, you might want to stop for coffee. I’m sure you must be exhausted.” He sent as much oil as he could muster over the troubled waters. Renata was losing clients here, and people stopping at the hotel not connected with this event were becoming disturbed. Fuck, that girl could shriek!
At least she’d stopped now. Sensing that she would take all the oil he had, he plastered her with some more. “You’ll be one of the most beautiful brides who have ever tied the knot at Goldclaw Ranch.”
A slight smile. “Well, the gown was designed for me.”
He’d bet it was. He’d also bet the bridesmaid dresses were designed for her, not for the woman who stood behind him and the six seated silently at the end of the room. They resembled a bunch of bath loofahs, with the bright colors and the stiff fabric. Not a look he’d want at his wedding, but hey, some of the most hideous gowns were the most expensive. They were chattering and staring at him, so just for good measure, he sent them a smooth smile, too.
The video guy was getting all this. Used to coping with them, he recognized a man with an eye for the main chance when he saw one. But he was getting nothing but good service from the management in this piece of video. Time to send his media team to keep an eye on him, whoever he was. Mentally he added the guy to the agenda he wanted to discuss with Thea.
Shaking back a bright curl, the bride gestured to an innocuous slice of cake that sat on one of the ranch’s best plates. They got these gold-rimmed beauties out for weddings only. It was one of their promises. “That is wrong. It’s peach.”
“Peach flavor?” He didn’t have to contact Renata to know what was wrong. That cake was the wrong shade, but when the whole effect was taken into account, who the fuck would notice? Not one of his chef’s creations, he was delighted to see. “It’s utterly charming. And such a wonderful breath of spring. Nobody who sees your wedding album will doubt when the wedding took place. You, your attendants, and the cake together will create a glorious bouquet of flowers.” The words were so sweet they were rotting his teeth. “I will contact my chef and ask him to look at any problems you might have.”
Ladonna bit her full lower lip and dropped her chin, gazing up at him like a naughty child. �
��Do you really think so? About the bouquet, I mean.”
“How could I see anything else?” Good, because if he got the chef to fiddle with the cake, he sure as hell would charge for it. Dinner was on him, for the bride and groom, at least. What were the odds that the bridesmaids would muscle in on it? Having lured her in with the idea that he would be there, Blade took pains to exclude himself. Dinner was what they were getting. Not him.
And in what world did a bride flirt with another man days before the wedding?
Sure, he’d known it to happen, but they hadn’t been serious. There was flirting, and then there were the come-to-bed vibes this woman was sending him.
Time to leave.
Keeping his smile firmly in place, he addressed the pink bridesmaid. Her olive skin didn’t look to its advantage next to that virulent pink, but then he couldn’t think of any shade of skin that would. She’d look gorgeous in a softer pink, or perhaps a good, strong blue. She could even carry off pure white. Perhaps, if her sister hadn’t committed to golden blonde, she could have, too.
Jesus, he was getting soft. Managing the ranch as a hotel was one thing, but the place had morphed into a wedding venue almost before he’d noticed. While he had a say with what went on, he was only one of the syndicate that owned and ran the vast ranch and its interests.
He could always move out to the cattle breeding part of the business or even the vacation ranch side. Or the plain, ordinary ranch because the beef they produced still had a ready market.
But since his chosen career had brought him this gorgeous, bright woman in the hideous dress, he wouldn’t complain for a while yet.
“Ms. Rossi, I do have to speak to you about a few matters.”