ALIEN SHIFTER ROMANCE: Alien Tigers - The Complete Series (Alien Invasion Abduction Shapeshifter Romance) (Paranormal Science Fiction Fantasy Anthologies & Short reads)

by Tanya Jolie

  “I hope you’re not planning a picnic,” she warned as she stretched out on the plaid wool. “Buck stuffed me to the gills with dinner.”

  “No picnic.” He took out the thermos of coffee and fried apple pies the cook had packed for them. “Dessert by the water, madam.”

  They shared the thermos cup as they nibbled on the crispy pastries and watched the sun scatter diamond light over the creek’s rushing waters.

  “You’re lucky,” Harper told him. “This is a beautiful place to live. You and your brothers have really accomplished a lot, too. Are you planning on staying?”

  He shrugged. “Some days I never want to step foot off the place. Then there come times when I wish I could leave it behind, and see what else is out there.”

  “You could do both,” she said as she stretched out on her side. “Work the ranch for a few months, then go traveling. I’m on the road six, eight months out of the year, so when I do get home I appreciate it more. Lately I’ve been thinking about what I’ll do when I stop competing.”

  Caleb lay down beside her. “You could train rodeo horses. Maybe set up your own ranch and breed them.”

  “Speaking of breeding.” She walked her fingers up his chest and brushed them against his lips. “You want to help me work off a little dinner?”

  He glanced down as she unfastened his belt and lowered his zipper. “What did you have in mind, Red?”

  “Just a little extra dessert.” She slipped her hand inside to curl her fingers around his rock-hard shaft.

  “Hmmm. I don’t think I can wait for mine.” Caleb opened and worked her jeans down to her knees, giving him more access to her damp little pussy.

  “Greedy man.” She straddled him in reverse, pushing his jeans down and stroking his cock as he gripped her hips and kissed the back of her thighs.

  Caleb stroked her as she bent over to kiss his straining cockhead, and then brought her hips back to bury his mouth against her, licking his tongue from her clit to her rosebud and back again.

  Harper let out a muffled sound of pleasure while she took him into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly. The feel of her wet, soft mouth and clever tongue sent jolts of sensation through his groin.

  Caleb had never had sex out of doors. Feeling the sunlight pouring over them as she sucked his cock and he licked her pussy made everything take on a dreamy quality.

  “Ah.” She released him to shudder through an orgasm, and then went down on him to his root, gently caressing his tightening balls.

  “Here it is, baby,” he murmured, and then bowed under her as his seed fountained into her mouth.

  Harper dropped onto him, letting him glide from her lips with a sigh. Caleb stroked her bottom and her lower back, his eyes closing as he drifted with the ebbing pleasure.

  Harper climbed off him and sat up, looking all around them. “Did you hear that?”

  “Thunder,” he said, yawning a little.

  “Cal, there’s not a cloud in the sky.” Harper stood up, fastening her jeans before she turned full circle. “It’s getting closer. Is that a bunch of semis on the road?”

  Now Caleb could hear it too, and it made him jump to his feet and yank up his jeans. “We’ve got to get to the horses. No, baby, leave all this stuff.”

  The sound of gun shots made her eyes widen. “What is it?”

  “Stampede.” Caleb scooped her up in his arms and ran.

  Chapter Five

  When Caleb got to the edge of the pasture, Harper cried out in alarm. Both of the horses were gone, and a tsunami of cattle were rushing toward them. She remembered him telling her there were over two thousand head in the herd. Over three million pounds of frightened animal were running straight at them, and there was nowhere for them to go.

  Caleb scooped up a coil of rope that had fallen from his saddle to the ground and looked all around them. He tested a root sticking up from the ground, and peered up. “If this doesn’t work, run down to the creek where it slopes downhill, and get behind that cluster of rocks by the water.”

  She watched him testing the length with a throw on the ground. “Caleb, what are you doing?”

  “You ever play Tarzan when you were a kid?” he asked, hauling the rope back into a coil. “Never mind. Climb on my back.”

  Harper nodded and clambered up onto him, gripping his shoulders tightly. As soon as she had, he took the rope and tossed it straight up, catching a bare but sturdy branch fifty feet over their heads. Pushing the toes of his boots under a thick root extruding from the ground, he began winding the rope around his hand and elbow, bowing the branch as he pulled it down toward the ground.

  Now Harper could see what he meant to do. “We’ll be catapulted into them.”

  “Not if I get just the right amount of energy in the tension.” He grunted as he wound it two more times. “You hold onto me tight now. We only get one chance at this. I love you, Harper.”

  “I love you, too, Cowboy. But I’m not marrying you, and I’m not having babies. Unless this works. Then I might change my mind.” Harper kissed the side of his neck as she watched the wave of cattle thundering toward them.

  At the last possible moment Caleb pulled his boots out from under the anchoring root. The tree branch snapped back up into place, hauling both of them up to dangle a scant ten feet above the stampeding herd.

  Once the cattle reached the creek, the downhill slope made the front line turn back, and what had been a deadly wave turned into a huge, seething mass of confusion.

  Harper glanced down and saw bloody wounds on the flanks of some of the steers in the very back. “Someone deliberately shot into the herd. Who would do such a thing?”

  “The only person who knew you were out here besides my family,” Caleb said, his expression grim. “Brian.”

  Three riders appeared on the fringe of the herd. Ethan waded into the cattle looking all around him. “Caleb? Harper?”

  “Up here,” Caleb said, and grinned down at his relieved-looking brother. “You boys happen to bring a safety net with you?”

  #

  That night Jonah and Liam rode out with the coroner to recover the trampled body of Brian Montlake, which the Boones had discovered while taking Harper and Caleb back to the ranch house.

  “He must have thought he was safe riding into the herd on a strange horse,” Chris later theorized when they sat down at the kitchen table to talk it out. “The dumbass.”

  “When he started shooting at them to start the stampede, the horse likely spooked and threw him,” Ethan told Harper. “The real question is why? How would your death benefit him?”

  Harper thought for a moment. “Brian took out a new medical insurance policy on me right before the accidents started happening. I didn’t read the papers,” she admitted, feeling foolish now. “It was just supposed to be extra coverage, in case I got hurt. Maybe it was something else.”

  Caleb winced. “Life insurance.”

  “If he made himself the beneficiary,” Chris said, “that would be plenty of motive. Especially if you died accidentally. Most companies pay double for that.”

  “It would also explain why he wanted you to keep competing,” Caleb put in. “He must have planned to keep sabotaging your gear until it did you in. Then he could get rid of the evidence and collect on the policy.”

  “Getting himself killed, trying to kill me.” Harper shook her head. “Well, I’m going to have to take a break from the circuit now to find a new manager. Although I’m not even sure I really want to, considering.”

  “I’d look for someone who knows everything about team roping,” Ethan said as he rose from the kitchen table. “He should be good at handling horses, looking after your gear and fending off the arena yahoos. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a wife-to-be waiting upstairs.” He winked at Caleb and then headed upstairs.

  “I got one them myself tucked in my mansion across town.” Chris lifted his massive arms in a lazy stretch. “You know, Harper, if I was looking for a manager I’d wan
t someone young and unencumbered who could go anywhere I went. Good company on the road.” He grinned at Caleb before he said, “Night, you two.”

  She almost giggled once they were alone and she saw Caleb’s scowl. “Your brothers give good advice. Know any young, unencumbered team ropers who might want to manage the fastest-rising female rodeo star on the circuit?”

  “I think they’re trying to get rid of me,” he grumbled. “But yeah, I do. He can’t spend the whole year on the road with you, though. He’s got a family and strong roots. He might chafe at them now and then, but they go deep.”

  She smiled slowly. “How about half the year on the road, and half the year at the ranch?”

  His expression softened as he took her hands in his. “Shoot you a game of pool for it.”

  THE END

  The SEAL’s Command

  Bound to the Alpha Billionaire

  Book 1

  (Can be read as a standalone book)

  By: Lucy Wynand

  The SEAL’s Command

  Chapter One

  Beneath a sapphire sky laced with sun-gilded clouds, James Gard dove into an enormous salt water pool, his long body streaking to the bottom before he surfaced and began his morning laps. A warm breeze spurred him along, coloring the air with the smell of the ocean and the honeysuckle spilling over the property fence.

  The scent always made Gard imagine a golden woman with flowers in her hair, tied naked to a bed bathed in sunlight.

  He ignored the surge of lust as he continued his swim. Eight years serving in the Navy as a member of an elite SEAL recovery team had honed his natural athletic abilities until he could have easily qualified for the U.S. Olympic swim team. The squalor and desperation he had seen in too many war-torn and impoverished countries, however, had pushed him down a different path. He’d begun an initiative to build clean, safe energy and water plants in developing nations. As global demand for his industrial plants grew, he partnered with other industries and governments, until his business had grown to be one of the most powerful in the world.

  The other work he did was just as important, but no one knew James Gard had built an independent intelligence consulting network to rival the CIA, which had added greatly to his influence and wealth.

  Ungodly wealth certainly had its perks, too. The vacation resort home he’d leased on Grand Cayman provided luxurious accommodations, plenty of sun, a pristine private beach and a kitchen stocked with gourmet food. With one phone call he could have practically anything else he desired delivered to his door: a case of designer champagne, a clone of his favorite Ferrari to drive around the island, or a lovely lady willing to warm his bed. But while he enjoyed women, very few had the ability or inclination to satisfy all of his needs.

  Gard wanted a sweet, shy lady who wanted to be seduced. One who craved to be tied up, teased, gently tormented and then taken. A lady who would obey his demands to please him; who needed what he wanted to do to her. A lover who needed domination as much as he needed her submission.

  A golden woman, tied to his sunlit bed.

  She would serve as the perfect lover for Gard, but despite his best efforts, he had yet to find her. The women who flocked to him were more interested in his money and their needs. While some were willing to go along with his desires, none of them really understood how to truly surrender themselves to him.

  One day, I’ll find her, Gard thought as he pushed off the wall of the pool and began another lap. Or she’ll come to me.

  A fair-haired man in a gray suit appeared at the edge of the pool, and made a languid gesture with the cane he used to beckon Gard over to him.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” Simon Denning said in his bored British accent as he watched Gard hoist himself out of the pool. “You SEAL chaps are never happy unless you’re sodding wet, are you? Half-fish, the lot of you.”

  “Beats sweating.” Gard shrugged into a robe and walked over to the bar, pouring two glasses of indecently expensive single-malt before offering one to Simon. “Did you wrangle me an invite to Zempa’s party?”

  “Indeed, I wrangled.” Simon took a card from his jacket and handed it to Gard. “This will get you on the ferry for the party. It leaves at sunset, so don’t dawdle, James.”

  Gard glanced over the infinity edge of the pool at Blue Pearl Island, which lay a half-mile south of his resort on Grand Cayman. “Any insight on what I can expect?”

  “A little. Rumor has it that Dutch Zempa is the Martha Stewart of BDSM sex parties.” The British agent’s voice chilled. “We believe he throws these soirees to lure wealthy targets, whom he provides with willing, helpless or drugged lovelies to molest as they like. He then uses their bad behavior to blackmail them into working for the cartel.”

  Gard grunted. “Why haven’t you and MI-6 shut him down?”

  “There’s no evidence, naturally, and none of his suspected victims will give him up. The place is a fortress, with state of the art security, and a small army of ex-mercs guarding it. Zempa has also bribed too many officials here for us to move on him.” Simon set a flash drive on the bar. “Floor plans, patrol routines, and the combination to the safe in the second-floor library.”

  Gard’s brows rose. “You remotely cracked his safe?”

  “He has large windows, and we have very good long-range spy drones.” A pained smile tightened the Brit’s mouth. “We’ve not been able to get on film anything else going on in that den of iniquity, so do your best to avoid detection.”

  Gard wasn’t worried about his cover. The arms dealer wouldn’t suspect him, as his official reason for coming to Grand Cayman was to purchase property for a desalinization plant, which he intended to do. “What would get me thrown out?”

  “Zempa won’t be fooled by a sham performance.” Simon finished his drink. “You’ll have to actually take part in the, ah, festivities.”

  “I don’t have to fake it.” Gard’s mouth hitched. “But you already knew that I’m a sexual dominant, or you wouldn’t have asked me to go in.”

  “Much as I dislike poking about in another chap’s private life, your penchant for tying up your ladies is rather awfully convenient for us.” He slid on his sunglasses and smiled. “Do enjoy yourself thoroughly tonight, old boy. It may be the only way we can stop this bastard from arming every terrorist cell on the bloody planet.”

  * * *

  Lily tried to focus on the novel she was reading, but her gaze kept straying to the clock on the wall. In a few hours the guests would begin arriving for Dutch Zempa’s party, and the mansion would be filled with wealthy and important visitors eager to indulge themselves. She would welcome them, and laugh at their jokes, and listen to Zempa as he told them to do whatever they pleased to the dozens of beautiful young women and men waiting to satisfy their desires.

  Some would ask for her, of course, but Zempa always turned down those requests.

  “Our lovely Lily is my companion tonight,” he would say, and touch her shoulder with a possessive hand. “And I’m afraid I never share.”

  Lily would smile her agreement, and pretend not to feel her skin crawl. One of the few blessings of her predicament was that Zempa rarely touched her and never used her for sex, which he preferred to have with the handsome young men he had drugged and chained to his bed.

  The door to her room opened abruptly, and Johnson, one of Zempa’s thugs, trudged in. Lily immediately set her book aside and slid off the bed, backing away until her shoulders collided with a window frame.

  “The boss wants you dressed and downstairs in an hour, Frenchie.” The burly guard tossed a garment bag on the end of Lily’s bed. “He said to wear this.”

  Lily watched Johnson unzip the bag and remove the dress inside. The sight of the demure white lace made her heart clench. She’d known this day would come, of course; Zempa wouldn’t hold her in reserve forever. “Who does he want me to entertain?”

  “Some rich, clueless American.” The guard advanced on her, and reached out to finger a
long, silky strand of her pale blonde hair.

  Johnson’s hot breath smelled of garlic and onions, but Lily knew better than to turn her head away.

  When she didn’t react he dropped his thick fingers onto her breast, and gave it a painful squeeze. “If the boss doesn’t let this one do you, maybe I’ll arrange something for you. You need a real man between your legs, Frenchie.”

  Lily looked up into his piggish eyes. “Do you know one?”

  Johnson drew back his hand as if to clout her, thought better of it, and backed away. “Someday, bitch.” He stalked out and slammed the door.

  Lily turned, resting her brow against the sun-warmed glass of the window as she tried to stop shaking. Through the wrought iron bars she could see the cerulean blue waters hemming the glittering white sands beyond the mansion. There was more than an ocean that lay between her and her freedom, and Zempa knew it. Even if she could escape the island, she had nowhere to go, and no one to care where she went.

  Lily used to think she was all alone in the world, but now she actually was.

  Next month it would be a year since she had been brought to Blue Pearl Island. In the beginning Zempa had treated her like a guest, but once his scheme to use her had failed, that had changed. Lily remembered the first BDSM party he had forced her to attend, and how she had felt watching the other girls at the mansion cater to his wealthy guests. She’d run back to lock herself in her room, throw up, and cry herself to sleep.

  The next morning a guard had taken her down to Zempa, who over a sumptuous breakfast had explained how it would be for her.

  “You are too exquisite to waste on just anyone, my dear. So for now you will simply act as my hostess.” Thin, silver-haired and deeply tanned, Zempa had large, dark eyes that held a reptilian gleam. “In return, when the time comes that I ask you to personally entertain someone, you will do so with delight and enthusiasm.”

  Lily stared at the food growing cold on the china plate in front of her. “What happens if I refuse?”