The Purrfect Plan

by Angela Castle

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  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

  Coming Soon

  Also Available By Angela Castle

  About the Author

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  The Purrfect Plan

  Australian Shifters Book One

  Angela Castle

  Published by Rogue Phoenix Press

  Copyright © 2012

  ISBN: 978-1-62420-009-0

  Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, all other rights reserved by the author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.

  Chapter One

  Storm Wellington wanted a baby more than anything. It was why she stood outside a bar in an obscure little place called Black Town.

  Still, her desire did little to calm her apprehension, making her stomach twist almost painfully. With a firm grip on the door handle of the bar, she pushed it open, taking a few steps inside. The wafting smell of beer and cigarette smoke hit her. The low pounding beat of heavy rock music thumped in time with her frantically hammering heart. Work, damn you feet. She moved further into the dim interior, her gaze landing on the long black bar.

  The plan was simple: to find a man, any man, willing to have no-strings-attached sex with her. She understood men well enough to know free pussy wasn't something they would easily refuse.

  Hell, it didn't have to be a one-night stand; she would be well on her way once the deed was done. If you counted the removal of clothes into the equation, what, a whole five to ten minutes?

  Be strong. Be confident, you can do this. She'd been chanting this same mantra since she'd left home. She chose this particular spot at random, by placing her hand over her eyes, then circling her finger before jabbing it at the map on her desk. Fate had decided to take her to Black Town after a quick internet search, finding it contained just what she needed; an out of the way bar and a motel room surrounded by native Australian Forest. It was a three hour drive, but the further away the place, the better. She plotted various seduction scenarios, along with timing her visit during the peak of her fertility cycle.

  Storm quickly scanned the interior, noticing an empty stage at the back of the room with a small space where scattered round black tables were nicely complemented by sturdy looking silver and black metallic chairs. She spotted the cricket bat mounted on the wall behind the bar. With a boldly printed score chart: Bat- eleven: Bar patrons- zero. Did they get a lot of bar fights?

  Her gaze roamed over the dozen or so bar patrons who stopped their low chatter to turn and stare at her. She saw why the place featured solid bar furniture. Each and every man in the bar displayed strong broad shoulders, thick firm necks, chiseled, handsome features and solid muscle. A mix of awe and wonder hit her as she realized none of them would weigh in at less than a hundred and eighty pounds. Wow! She'd struck genetic gold! As for the few women littered amongst them clothed in only simple jeans and t-shirts, they were, without exception, slim, bright eyed and cover-model gorgeous.

  Storm drew comfort from the fact the men outnumbered the women. Panic threatened to rise. What if none of the men found her attractive enough? Not allowing herself to back pedal, she made her way to the bar.

  Even if she was a far cry from the apparent beauties now surrounding her and clearly challenged in the height department, being only five foot three, her grandmother always taught her being neat and clean easily made up for her plain features.

  She ran her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. It didn't matter how she looked, because now was certainly not the time to be second-guessing herself. No doubts, just forward and onward, to do what she came here to do then get the hell out.

  She moved away from the door. On reaching the bar, she smiled at the bartender and noticed him watching her with a curious expression.

  "Can I have a coke, please?"

  He arched an orange eyebrow. "Just a Coke?"

  Alcohol was not on the cards tonight, even if she did desperately want something to calm her nerves and loosen the tension making nearly every muscle in her body ache.

  "Yes, just a Coke."

  The man reached under the counter, pulled out the trademark bottle and plonked it firmly on the counter before reaching for a glass and setting it next to her chosen beverage. Storm glanced down, digging around in her purse to pay for her drink.

  "This one's on me, sugar."

  Storm looked up, startled, not having heard the man approach. Remember what you're here for. Storm plastered on a friendly smile.

  "Um, thank you."

  Exotic dark chocolate eyes regarded her with interest; his rich brown hair haphazardly stuck out on his head as though he used his hand for a comb. Handsome, like every man in the bar, he would do nicely.

  "I'll have a Coke too, Ted, just add a touch of hair in mine," he said with an impish smile. "So what's a lovely little lady like you doing in a place like this?"

  Smooth. A touch cheesy, but sweet.

  "Just travelling through. I've got a room at the motel for the night before heading home tomorrow. As the signs on the highway say, drowsy drivers die." Her pre-prepared lie came out easily.

  "Well, I'm sure glad you stopped in, sugar." His grin was seductive.

  Storm giggled and felt herself blush; maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.

  "I'm Storm."

  "Storm, I like that. Hamish Brown, at your service, little lady." He offered his hand.

  Storm allowed her smile to widen before slipping her hand into his warm one. Yes, his services would do nicely.

  ~ * ~

  River Black shoved open the door of his local watering hole, flanked by his brother, and strode into the bar like he owned the place. Truth was, he did. Black Town had been built by him and his kin a half century ago. Everyone who lived and worked in their community knew the secret behind Black Town. Outsiders and contractors brought in to work their quarries and mines were kept blissfully ignorant.

  "Hey boss, welcome back."

  River smiled at Ted Sullivan, part owner of Black's Bar. It was good to be home. The week spent down in Sydney negotiating contracts played havoc, not only on his delicate shifter senses, but also on his brother Hawk. Thankfully, he and Hawk were able to enjoy some soft and willing distractions the city women offered.

  River gave a silent prayer of thanks for his parents' foresight and wisdom to migrate with their younger siblings from South America just over a century ago. They had founded Black Town, and as far as he knew the only secret shifter community in Australia. Here in this country they lived peacefully, free from hunters who would see their hides mounted on their walls.

  Since his father's death, responsibility for their community had fallen onto his shoulders. As a Black Panther, and one even more powerful than his father, River took his job seriously.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he took in the familiar heavenly scents of beer, spirits, table cleaning chemicals, the lingering scent of cigarettes, the other shifters and…those freshly baked cookies?

  River narrowed his gaze and inhaled again, his feet moving befor
e his mind, to follow the mouth-watering scent. He glanced down at the empty bar stool, where the cookie smell still lingered.

  "Have you been baking cookies, Ted?" River leaned on the bar, eyeing the lion shifter as he polished a glass.

  Ted raised a curious orange eyebrow at River. "Not bloody likely. I don't bake."

  "Then where is that delicious smell coming from?"

  A sudden unfamiliar feminine giggle sent a jolt up his spine. River turned on his thickly booted heel, his gaze zeroing in on a little brunette sitting with his cousin, Hamish Brown.

  River drank in her detail, hypnotized by her soft beauty. Her soft hair shone in various shades of brown, even in the dimmer lights of the bar. Her cheeks appeared pink and rounded; she blushed beautifully as if already in the throes of passion. It didn't matter her nose was a little wide; it suited those big soft brown eyes. Her lips were a darker shade of pink, almost red, being lush and plump on the bottom, thin and bowed on the top. The sight made his groin tighten painfully behind his zipper. He wanted to watch her lips puff and swell after he had thoroughly kissed her.

  "Hummm, well look what the cat dragged in," Hawk quipped behind him.

  "Mine!" His snarl was as much of a shock to River as it was to his brother who took a step back from him, his eyebrow arching in surprise.

  "Ted, we've been gone a week, who's the woman with Hamish?" Hawk leaned back on the bar, proving himself more level headed. River's whole body tensed, his panther growled, pacing the corners of his mind. His cat wanted a closer sniff of the woman. Mate, my mate. The realization hit him.

  "No idea. She turned up not long ago this evenin' all sweet and pretty, says she's just passing through. If you ask me, she's way too innocent lookin' to be in a place like this. Hamish has been chattin' her up for the past ten minutes. As far as I've seen, she's not rebuffed his attentions."

  "I think River just found his mate."

  Hawk's words and Ted's low whistle barely registered. River's mind clouded, the single syllable echoed over and over in his head. Mine! Before his brain could catch up with his feet, he found himself standing beside the table, glaring at Hamish.

  "Oh hey, cuz, what's…uh what's wrong?" Hamish obviously saw the dangerous expression in his eyes, as Hamish's usually tanned complexion visibly paled.

  The woman startled, glancing around and up at him, big warm brown eyes widened in fright. Damn it, he had no desire to scare his mate. It took a hell of a lot of willpower to bring the urge to rip Hamish to shreds under control and relax his stance.

  "Introduce us, Hamish." Wood and leather creaked as he lowered his large six foot six frame into the booth seat beside the woman, his gaze never leaving hers.

  "Um, River, this is Storm Wellington. Storm, this is River Black, my cousin, and on that note, it was lovely to meet you." Hamish flashed a grin and River let out a low warning growl.

  The man scrambled out of the booth as though his house was on fire. Even if he had been there first, Hamish knew better than to come between an Alpha shifter and his mate.

  She blinked her wide brown eyes at him before flicking her gaze at the retreating back of Hamish.

  "I must say I'm impressed. It's not often I get to see someone growl and scare someone so badly they almost wet themselves in fear."

  River felt his mouth twist up at the corners. He liked the fact she was not intimidated by him.

  "And why did you scare him away?" She folded her arms in a defensive move.

  "What can I say?" He eased in a little closer, inhaling her fresh-baked cookies scent, feeling the warmth of her soft body near his side, driving him utterly mad with need. "When I like what I see, nothing stands in my way of obtaining it."

  Skepticism flashed in the warm brown depths of her eyes, staring at him as if he had suddenly sprouted two heads.

  "Don't worry about my cousin; he understands I mean him no harm."

  "And what harm do you mean to me?"

  He didn't miss the tremor of anticipation in her tone, nor the way her gaze ran over his upper half. His nostrils flared as the heavy smell of her arousal added to her already alluring scent. She found him attractive. This was good, very good.

  He struggled to hold back a groan when she ran her tongue over her plump bottom lip, leaving a thin trail of moisture. Damn, he wanted to take a bite out of this little cookie.

  By the gods, he'd never seen so much innate beauty on a woman; the way her face shone with shy innocence and at the same time held so much sensuality. She had curves, which made his lust burn white-hot. He wanted to hold her in his arms and worship every inch of her with his hands, mouth and body.

  His lips curved up, giving her his most seductive smile. "Cookie, I think you're the safest person in this whole town. I would never let anyone harm you, ever." It was a serious heartfelt vow. "So, what brings you to my town?"

  Chapter Two

  The gods had fallen off Olympus.

  Storm stared at the big, powerful man seated next to her in the bar's booth. Standing, he towered over her. Even sitting down didn't diminish his dominant presence. Glassy, emerald green eyes gazed at her, desire and lust made obvious.

  His skin, deeply tanned, appeared Latin American in origin. A soul patch under his bottom lip, strong long nose, five o'clock shadow over his angular jaw and oh, those full masculine lips just added to his raw sexuality.

  Overwhelming attraction to a man had not featured in Storm's plans. Her body responded despite her mind screaming for her to run from this obvious predator. He looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. What shocked her more was she wanted to be his next meal.

  She'd heard of women being aroused at the mere sight of a man, but never had she actually experienced it, well not until now.

  Her lower stomach clenched when he smiled. His voice, a deep sexy drawl with a hint of an accent, sent shivers down her spine, cantering on her clit, and making it pulsate. Moisture gathered in her pussy; her breasts suddenly felt amazingly heavy and her nipples hardened in apparent painful need.

  The predator was clothed entirely in black: jeans, shirt, leather jacket and boots. It matched his pitch-black hair, combed back, hanging about his ears. The saying, "tall, dark and handsome" just didn't cut it. River Black stood tall, dark and devastatingly sexy.

  Hamish Brown had been an excellent candidate to father her child, but River Black's DNA would produce a strong, healthy and handsome child, just like his father. Hamish, forgotten, the bar had just been raised; Storm doubted she'd ever find a man as perfect as River.

  It was better to run with the feeling than fight it. If the man wanted to seduce her, she would let him.

  "So what brings you to my town?"

  She cleared her throat, moistening her dry lips before answering. "I, um, was driving home from Sydney and thought I'd take the scenic route then got a little lost. I guess it's best not to drive in the dark."

  "Smart decision. The roads can be dangerous when driving late at night. Where you headed?"

  "Um, just home, over the border." Storm needed to avoid giving direct information. Her donor didn't need to know where she lived.

  Her already rapidly beating pulse, almost impossibly, got even faster at the smile.

  "It's okay, you don't have to tell me today. I assume you have a room over at Black's Motel."

  She nodded, her grip tightening on her beverage to stop her hands from shaking, at the same time trying not to squirm in her seat as her clit pulsed and her panties grew even damper.

  "Good, I'd be devastated if anything happened to you."

  Okay, that was a little odd. She couldn't help but frown.

  "Why? You don't even know me." Damn it, why couldn't she shut her mouth and just take his strange comments with a passive smile.

  He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. It felt like sticking her hand in a live electric socket, as currents raced through her body on contact with his skin. She wanted more of his touch. Storm glanced down and saw how small her pal
e hand was in his larger, tanned one.

  "I know enough to know you are special, and I want to get to know you."

  She didn't miss the suggestive undercurrents in his tone. She knew he was just playing his best pick up lines. Still, the question lingering at the back of her mind was, why?

  She couldn't help the blush rising into her cheeks, warming them. The man was good. No doubt he could get any woman he wanted.

  Who cares as long as he gets you. You're not looking for a relationship, just sex.

  "I…I would like that." Even to her own ears she sounded breathless, eager. Truth be told, she was.

  River smiled seductively, holding her gaze captive in his deep green depths. He slid in closer, slipping his arm around her waist. She felt his strength as he pulled her in close. Damn, he smelled good; a mix of leather, spice, and deep dark male. She wanted to bathe in his scent, peel off his clothes and trace every contour of his powerful, muscled body with her tongue.

  "You feel it too, don't you, the pull between us?"

  Strangely, he seemed to be holding his breath in anticipation of her answer. She wanted to open her mouth to deny the overwhelmingly strong attraction to this huge sexy man.

  The thought both shocked her and turned her on even more. Even if she was unprepared to be so turned on and openly perused by a man, she didn't want to appear too willing to get him alone and tear his clothes off. But hell, she was.

  "Yes, I…I think I do."

  His triumphant smile made her wonder if the man was completely sane. "Oh, sweet cookie, I've been waiting my whole life to meet you, and here you are." He brushed a stray hair away from her face in a gentle, surprisingly reverent gesture, confusing the hell out of her.

  River glanced around the bar; Storm followed his gaze and noticed the rather rapt audience of bar patrons.

  He lowered his head to whisper close to her ear, sending shivers skating down her spine. "Would you like to go somewhere a little more secluded to talk?"

  Was it getting really hot in the bar? How can I be insanely hot, yet still have the shivers?

  She nodded, trying not to appear too eager. Within the span of a few heartbeats he'd gripped her hand firmly in his, pulled her from the booth past the onlookers, out of the bar and into the cooling night air.