Jaguar's Kiss (Lone Pine Pride)

by Vivi Andrews

  Lila shrank down in her seat, knowing Santiago’s scent must be all over her after their last post-shower interlude.

  The Subaru crested a hill on the western edge of the lands and her mother pulled off into the lookout, cutting the engine and climbing out of the car, still without saying a word. Lila followed, albeit reluctantly. She’d known she was going to have to have this conversation with her mother, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

  The night wind was crisp, carrying the familiar scents of the pride lands in fall. Cedar, pine and the traces of feline musk on the wind. A thousand stars pricked pinpoints into the black blanket of the sky, and moonlight cast eerie shadows through the trees as the heavy moon began to rise. Lila wondered what the moonlight looked like sifting through the trees around Santiago’s deck.

  “I trust you had a good time,” her mother said finally, when they were leaning side by side against the hood.

  “I love him.”

  Her mother nodded, as if there was nothing unexpected in the announcement. As if Lila’s whole world hadn’t been reshaped around that fact.

  “We make sacrifices for the pride,” she said, her voice a whisper on the breeze as she stared out over the pride lands. “It won’t be easy to give him up, but you know it’s the right thing to do.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Lila, I’m the only one who understands.”

  “That isn’t what I meant. It’s not about being the Alpha’s mate. I’m not you. Marrying Roman wouldn’t just be doing my duty for the pride. It would be giving up my chance at being truly happy.”

  “Duty is its own happiness. The satisfaction can be so much richer than personal gratification. I know you won’t be the same kind of Alpha’s mate I am, but you’ll be strong in your own way. In your own right.”

  “You don’t understand,” Lila said again. “You never had to give up a chance at love—”

  “Didn’t I?”

  Lila went still at the words, soft, but with a subtle sharpness, a well-honed blade in two tiny words. “Who?”

  “Does it matter?” Lucienne turned her head then, meeting Lila’s eyes with such simple directness. “I never regretted my decision to be with your father. Just as you will never regret marrying Roman. He’s a good man, Lila.”

  “I know he’s a good man, Mom. But he’s not mine.” Her man was flawed. Demanding and temperamental and romantic and playful in the most surprising ways. Their children may never be able to shift and they may never be accepted into a pride if Lone Pine threw them out. But none of that could counter the fact that he was hers.

  “I thought you’d outgrown that sort of childish romanticism.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Her mother frowned, disapproval in every line of her face. “Have you even thought about what this little rebellion of yours could do to the pride?”

  Lila gave a soft, scoffing laugh. “I’ve thought of nothing else for days.”

  “Then you know what you’re doing impacts more people than just you and Roman and this panther.” She made the breed sound like an epithet. “Lila, be sensible. I was tempted once too. It wasn’t easy choosing your father when my heart was leading me elsewhere, but it was the right choice.”

  “And the man you loved? What did he have to say about it?”

  “He agreed it was right for the good of the pride. We both love this place—and your father, in our own ways.”

  Hugo. The penny dropped and Lila had to swallow her gasp. Her mother had once been in love with her father’s best friend. A bear shifter she could never marry. Holy shit.

  “After I made my choice, we never acted on our feelings, because we both knew it would have a negative impact on the pride.”

  So noble. And so stupid. Funny how hearing her mother talk about exactly what she had been thinking of doing to Santiago made it clear how heartless it all was. How wrong for her. She wasn’t her mother. She would always regret it if she left Santiago. Whether their children could shift or not, Lila wanted them to be his. Jaguars, lions, some kind of hybrid, she didn’t care. She just wanted them to be healthy and have his eyes and his laugh.

  She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life always wondering if she could have been happier with the man who promised to love her while married by obligation to a man who never truly would.

  Lila Fallon wanted the goddamn fairy tale.

  “You want me to marry Roman, answer me one question. The man you gave up. Do you still love him?”

  Silence stretched until Lila thought her mother wouldn’t answer—which was answer enough. Then, “In a way, I suppose I do. But I love the pride more.”

  She supposed.

  No, Lila was not her mother. She would never suppose her emotions, living that half-life of all head and no heart. She was a romantic. She supposed she always had been, but it had taken a jaguar’s kiss to wake her up to the fire of longing in her soul.

  She would do what she could to make sure it wouldn’t weaken the pride, but she just couldn’t see how denying her heart could possibly make the pride stronger. She couldn’t be happy if she gave Santiago up. It would eat away at her, and who benefited from that?

  Her mother straightened away from the bumper, dusting off her hands. “We should get back to the pride. I’m sure we’ve been missed. We’ll tell your father and Roman we were busy with wedding preparations and lost track of time. Perhaps tomorrow we should go into town and you can try on some wedding dresses.” She smiled. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Lila. You’ll make the whole pride proud.”

  No. She wouldn’t. But maybe that wasn’t such a crime. Maybe she didn’t have to live her life for the approval and happiness of others.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t.”

  She didn’t wait to hear her mother’s argument, didn’t even bother stripping out of her clothes, just shifted, ignoring the discomfort of her clothing shredding from her body as her furred form burst through. She leapt into motion, the ground blurring beneath her paws as she ran.

  He’d said he would wait, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. She didn’t want to waste another second.

  Lila had always been fast, but she’d never had a reason to run like she did tonight. The miles vanished under her paws.

  Chapter Eleven

  Santiago streaked through the forest, one more shadow among shadows. He’d told Lila he would wait for her, but it wasn’t in him to just sit back and wait for fate to decide for him. He needed action, so he’d slipped back onto pride land and was racing through the night toward the main compound.

  Not to see Lila, though he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and take away all her troubles. He’d meant it when he said he would try to give her space. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go see Patch. No one knew Lila better—and few knew the pride as well as Patch did either. If anyone could help him understand the mess of politics and power plays involved in lion prides, Patch would. Another independent cat who had learned how to navigate these treacherous waters.

  He needed to find a way through this mess that didn’t involve Lila having to choose between him and her pride. Because she would never be happy with him if she had to hurt others to be with him. He wanted her without guilt and regrets.

  And she loved it here. He didn’t want her to have to leave her home to be with him. She was a lioness. Cutting her away from the pride entirely would be like the loss of a limb to her. There had to be another way.

  A flash of golden fur in the moonlight shot across the edge of his vision. He almost ignored it—it could be any one of dozens of lions out for a midnight run—but then a scent on the breeze teased his senses. A very familiar scent. Lila.

  He changed direction, giving chase. He stretched out, long legs reaching. She was fast—so damn fast for a lioness—but jaguars were built for speed. Even so, he barely gained ground. She stayed ahead of him, a golden bolt of lightning as the forest opened up into a field.

&
nbsp; Santiago roared, the sound rushing ahead of him to her. He saw her steps falter, her pace slowing, ears twitching back, then with a twitch of her tail she was off again, almost as fast, but darting to the north, giving him a chance to take an angle to cut her off. But still he couldn’t quite run her down.

  She let him get close before putting on another burst of speed. He surged after her and she stopped suddenly, claws digging grooves into the earth as she pivoted sharply. His paws slid out from under him when he tried to change direction too quickly and she danced around in a playful circle, chuffing at him in feline laughter. He let her circle close, coiling his body beneath him and leaping with no warning, his paws striking her shoulder and rolling her.

  She snarled and snapped at him, half-heartedly batting him away, but he caught her by the scruff, tightening his jaws just enough to prove his victory. He was big for a jaguar, so in weight they were pretty evenly matched. She might have been able to shake him off, but instead she swatted him playfully and made a little huffing noise until he released her and pulled back enough to shift.

  She took human form with him, her playful smile not dimming in the least when they were sprawled together in nothing but their skin.

  Something had changed. The woman who’d left him only an hour ago had looked like her heart was breaking. The one splayed beneath him on the grass sparkled and shone like the girl he’d met on that football field five years ago.

  “Where were you going?” he asked.

  “To you. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  His heart wanted to lift, but he’d been up and down too many times in the last twenty-four hours to rejoice so quickly. “What about the pride? Lila, I don’t want to ask you to choose between them and me, but you know they won’t accept me as your mate.”

  “They’ll have to.” She twined her arms around his neck and stirred beneath him—if he hadn’t already been achingly aware of their position, he was now. “I’m keeping you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I know what I want now,” she purred. “No questions. No doubts. And when a lioness knows what she wants, the best thing to do is let her have it because nothing can stop her.”

  “Is that so? And what is it you want, Lila Fallon?”

  “You. I love you, Santiago Flores. Now and forever. I want you.” She grinned, leaning up to nip his lower lip. “You’re my Prince Charming. Christ, you built me a castle. You always ask me what I would be if I could choose my own life. Well now I know. I would be yours. The rest is just details.”

  Santiago threaded his fingers through her golden hair. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure I love you. Does anything else matter?”

  “No. Nothing.” He kissed her, and it was somehow sweeter than every touch that came before, because this time, she was truly his. Forever. He pulled back just enough to smile against her lips. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of a lioness who knows what she wants.”

  “Then give me what I want, Santiago Flores.”

  The way she said his name was a seduction itself, and he immediately set about doing exactly as she asked, pleasing her becoming his new obsession. She arched against him, purring deep.

  Life wouldn’t always be easy. In fact, there would be days when it might be hell, but he would take any measure of hell to be in her arms. She was his heaven. His beating heart. His soul.

  The rest was just details.

  About the Author

  An Alaskan born and raised, award-winning paranormal romance author Vivi Andrews still lives in the frozen north when she isn’t indulging her travel addiction by bouncing around the globe. Whether at home or on the road, she’s always at work on her next happily-ever-after. For more about her books or the exploits of a nomadic author, please visit her website at www.viviandrews.com, or find her on Facebook and Twitter.

  Look for these titles by Vivi Andrews

  Now Available:

  Reawakening Eden

  Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

  Superlovin’

  Serengeti Shifters

  Serengeti Heat

  Serengeti Storm

  Serengeti Lightning

  Serengeti Sunrise

  Karmic Consultants

  The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant

  The Ghost Exterminator: A Love Story

  The Sexorcist

  The Naked Detective

  A Cop & A Feel

  Finder’s Keeper

  Naughty Karma

  Coming Soon:

  Lone Pine Pride

  Taming the Lion

  Hawk’s Revenge

  Double crossing the devil is a dangerous business.

  Naughty Karma

  © 2013 Vivi Andrews

  A Karmic Consultants Story

  Nearly two decades ago, Prometheus sold his beating heart to a devil in exchange for epic power. That contract is about to expire—and so is he. There’s only one woman with the power to help him see his next birthday. And he’s willing to use every manipulation in his arsenal to pry that power from the ice queen’s grip.

  Karma, who values order above all else, has had enough of the unscrupulous warlock’s pranks endangering her people. But when she confronts the wily trickster to demand a cease-fire, his terms throw her for a loop. The bastard wants her to save his life—and he wants her in his bed.

  Clinging to her hard-won control is the only way Karma knows to keep her abilities from overwhelming her. If anyone can tempt her to embrace the chaos of her magic, it’s Prometheus.

  One kiss brings her defenses crashing down. But can she trust Prometheus…or has she lost her own heart to a warlock with a hidden agenda?

  Warning: This book contains scheming, manipulation, bargains-with-the-devil, and meddling consultants. All’s fair in love and magic.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Naughty Karma:

  The shop door crashed open and slammed against the far wall, shuddering on its hinges. Prometheus caught it with a mental hand when it would have ricocheted off the wall to retaliate against the woman who’d struck it. He froze the door in place before it could wreak vengeance on that pretty—livid—face. Cracks probably spidered through the frosted glass from the force of her entry, but he didn’t bother to take his eyes off the woman on his threshold long enough to check.

  Karma Cox. Owner and benevolent dictator of Karmic Consultants, paranormal problem solvers. A magical Mussolini in heels.

  She was here.

  “You bastard.”

  And she was pissed.

  Fully aware it would only enrage her more, Prometheus smiled with undisguised anticipation. Do I have your attention now, sweetheart? “Yes?”

  A few weeks ago, he’d been convinced he’d irreparably screwed up his chances—the drunken demon summoning might have been taking their little feud a smidge too far—but this morning he’d woken up with a feeling. An eerie, storm-brewing, category five hurricane about-to-hit feeling.

  Prometheus didn’t run from storms. He was the crazy bastard standing in the middle of the tempest, daring the universe to do its worst. And Karma was one hell of a hurricane.

  She was regal, statuesque for a woman with a healthy dose of Asian genes in her family tree, but it wasn’t her height that made her commanding. Delicious power pulsed off her, all the more forceful for her anger. Prometheus could taste her barely bridled strength on the air between them—the rich, seductive decadence of dark liquid chocolate with the spicy slap of a cayenne kick.

  Every jet-black hair was in place, but there was still something wild and unhinged about her, despite the flawless manicure and the meticulous perfection of her makeup. A hunter-green sheath hugged her from collarbone to knees, exquisitely sexy in spite of the lack of plunging cleavage or thigh revealing slits. All dressed up…

  “How was the wedding?”

  That snapped her out of her rage-filled silence. Tawny skin flushed vivid scarlet. “How was the wedding?” she
repeated, each word gaining intensity until he could physically feel them striking his skin. “You ass.” She stalked into the heart of his shop, the rap of her heels sharp on the hardwood floor. “I was willing to overlook the medallions you’d sold all over town, causing all manner of magical havoc.”

  “Overlook? If no one was causing supernatural problems, you wouldn’t have any to solve. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to your business. I should get a commission.”

  She didn’t appear to hear him. Her smoky, sex-kitten voice rasped over his words, gaining volume. “I chose not to respond to the pranks around Samhain and Beltane, and I ignored what I suspect was a curse of some variety designed to prevent me from being able to keep a receptionist for longer than a week.”

  “I lifted that curse weeks ago.” Immediately after he’d semi-accidentally summoned a demon to harass her. It seemed the least he could do.

  She went on as if he hadn’t spoken, though her hands clenched, rewarding him for the comment. “I refused to sink to your level, decided not to engage, but this? Siccing a demon on my brother’s wedding. A demon.”

  “You have an exorcist on staff.”

  “You sent a demon to stop my brother’s wedding!” she shrieked in an admirable impression of a banshee.

  “It was a minor demon. And it wasn’t tasked with stopping the wedding. Just disrupting it a little.”

  “A little? You almost killed my wedding planner!”

  “Are you always this concerned with things that almost happen? I almost rescue orphans from burning buildings on a regular basis. Then I remember I don’t particularly give a shit about orphans.”

  “You want things that actually happened? He actually possessed the wedding planner’s car and crashed it. He stalked her for three weeks. He kidnapped her!”

  “What’s a little kidnapping among friends?”

  “We are not friends. You’re—” She broke off, reduced to sputtering her rage.