Escaping Love

by Debra Smith

  He tucked her into his sheets and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, lingering a little too long. The Little Cat looked good in his bed. The bulge in his pants agreed. He narrowed his eyes at his hand stopped just short of caressing her lip.

  She needed to leave. When she woke, he was sending her back to her Clan. After he did a little digging into her identity. The danger she represented seemed like too much of a risk for his sanity.

  Chapter Two

  The smooth, rich aroma of coffee lulled her from her restful sleep. But weeks of being on the run fueled her reaction. She leaped from bed, bringing her cat barreling to the surface. Partially shifting, her claws pricked at her palms as her feline senses took stock of her surroundings. Her unusual talent posed one problem—her clothes couldn’t properly fit her form and ripped at the seams. Damn.

  She’d worry about new clothes later. She tried to slow her breathing and silence her pounding heart. The sound of someone clinking around in what was probably a kitchen, and light from the risen sun shone brightly from the window.

  No tickle of unease. She seemed safe. No one barreled into the space, and a somewhat familiar aroma perforated the room. The bed she’d been in seemed nice, and she’d occupied it alone. “I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice drawled.

  The Cowboy. Ignoring the weird flutter in her stomach from being in his bed, between his sheets, she assessed her situation. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Assuming this guy hadn’t kidnapped her and was waiting for her father to pay up.

  Tradition meant she was under the protection of the Koning Clan until the queen formally heard her request. If this guy was left in charge during the queen’s absence, then he was a member of the Clan? All of this was just a guess. If the queen was home, then why wouldn’t he have put her in Jenifer’s home?

  “I’m making breakfast. You hungry darlin’?”

  She scowled at the open door, then her gaze returned to his bed, and she briefly noticed the beautiful handmade quilt serving as his bedspread. Birds chirped outside, sitting on the branches of some kind of white-barked tree as they swayed in a gentle breeze. Every living thing seemed to be chipper in the morning. Well, not her.

  Her lips curled in an unladylike fashion while she growled low in her chest. She managed a single word.

  “Bathroom.”

  Was he laughing at her?

  “It’s through the door on your left.”

  Her body ached, everywhere. A thick fog filled her head. Maybe a soak in a tub would be better. Yeah, she almost purred. Just what she needed. The idea of hot water dissolving some of her worries away seemed like heaven. She rushed past the open door and stopped in her overexcited tracks.

  Her mind cleared, realizing that stripping down and leaving herself vulnerable in a stranger’s house wasn’t the best idea. Still annoyed and needing to focus, she complained, knowing he could hear her.

  “What kind of home doesn’t have a tub?”

  His voice carried into the room. “I prefer to shower.”

  “Barbarian,” she murmured.

  The hillbilly’s low rumble of laughter tickled sent tremors of excitement straight to her pussy. She slammed the door to the bathroom and thought she heard him laughing at her again. She huffed, glad she could bring such joy to his life. In the small room his scent overwhelmed her. Exotic wood tickled her nose. It was cedar. Her mother had a small chest made of the wood. It made her a little homesick. God, he smelled like home to her.

  Despite the thoughts of her mother, her body reacted in an entirely different way. Her nipples formed hard peaks and her inner walls clenched with need. It was not the kind of distraction she needed. Sex had always been a casual thing for her. After losing her virginity to the asshat A.K.A. captain of her father’s guard, she never let feelings mingle with the joining of bodies, seeking mutual release.

  Maybe that’s what she needed. After she pleaded her case with the queen maybe she and the cowboy could have a rodeo of their own. Smiling at her bad joke, she splashed cool water on her face, washing away the smudges of dirt. The crisp feel of it turned her more human and less like the morning monster. Her appearance rivaled that of a madwoman with dilated pupils and tattered clothes. She’d wished she’d been a little more careful and not destroyed her only outfit. Letting out a heavy sigh she returned to the bedroom and froze with surprise.

  The bed was neatly made, a pile of fresh clothes sat at the base, and a tray loaded with breakfast essentials like juice, coffee, and pancakes waited for her consumption. Crap. She needed to apologize, big time. Raising her hand to quiet her boisterous stomach, she wanted to kick her own grumpy butt. Guilt made a home in her chest so a weight sat over her heart.

  The clothes weren’t what she was used to, but they would help her blend in with the locals. The jeans were a little snug on her voluptuous curves. The extra length was easily solved by rolling the bottoms. The shirt, a soft baby blue color, was a tad tight. But hey, it wasn’t as if she was going to complain. After all he’d taken the time to find something for her. She picked up the tray and went to join him for breakfast.

  What she saw took her breath away. His back was to her. A beautifully-depicted eagle tattoo spanned his muscular shoulders. His left arm served as the canvas for more but she couldn’t make them out clearly. One rested on his side.

  Her tongue slipped over her bottom lip. What would he taste like?

  He turned to face her. Jesus, his front was impossibly better. Definition lined every muscle, starting from his peck, down his washboard abs, to rest at the V where his jeans met the lickable perfection of his upper body. Men were actually built this way? Even Carlos, the one that took her v-card, seemed to be lacking.

  “Somethin’ wrong with your vittles?”

  Promptly closing her gaping mouth, she scrunched her forehead. “Vittles?”

  He crossed his god-like arms over his chest, and his lips twitched. “Yeah, vittles. Your food.”

  “Er… No everything looks great. Thanks. By the way, I’m sorry for being—”

  “Prickly?”

  “No.”

  “Ungrateful?”

  “No.” She stomped her foot. “Grumpy, the word I’m looking for is grumpy.”

  “Not much of a mornin’ person, are you?”

  “No.”

  “That the only word you know? You would think after sleeping for thirty-six hours straight you would have waked up refreshed.”

  “No, it’s not the only word I know. What do you mean I’ve been asleep for thirty-six hours?”

  “Good thing you’re so darn cute, otherwise I might take your attitude personal. It’s a good thing I’m such a nice guy too. Any other male might have taken advantage of your unmated, unchaperoned state.”

  Narrowing her eyes at his suggestive tone, she set her tray down on the table and stepped toward him, pointing her finger like a dagger.

  “You’re a nice guy—”

  “You think so, huh? Glad to hear it.”

  She growled at him and spoke through clenched teeth. “Will you please stop interrupting me? What I was trying to say was even though you’re a nice guy, if you had touched me, you would’ve come back with a bloody stump. In the event I didn’t kill you, the queen would have punished you for breaking the law of Hospitality.”

  “Whoa there, Little Cat, don’t get your panties in a twist. I would never dishonor myself by breaking the law of Hospitality. You didn’t ask for it. I only know your name. You passed out before I got your reason for crossing the Clan territories.”

  Crap. Could he be right? The events from her first night were a bit fuzzy. Her exhaustion must have been worse than she wanted to admit. She lost the men her father sent after her somewhere in New Mexico, buying some time and much needed distance. They could be closing in even now. By now more Clans would have learned of her absence and would send their own people after her. If they found her first they wouldn’t have to lessen their wallets to gain the influence from her rar
ity. But the only thing she could think about now was him referring to her currently absent underwear.

  “Don’t think for a second you have any effect on my panties.”

  Placing the pan on the stove and locking their gazes and stalked toward her. For the first time in her life she felt like prey. Suppressing a shiver, she held her hand up to hold him at a distance. But he just kept coming, invading her space and her senses. He was so close to making contact, but he stopped, keeping them bare millimeters apart. His breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck, sending delicious chills down her spine straight to her core.

  “You can be grumpy and rude, but don’t lie to me. Ever.”

  A part of her wanted to claw at him for daring to challenge her but another small part wanted to close the distance between them and see if all the heat radiating between them was real or just her imagination.

  In a voice she didn’t recognize she squeaked, “Then why did you bring me home?”

  For a moment he seemed just as confused as her, then he rolled his shoulders. “I guess I could have just left you on the bar floor, but that just didn’t sit right with me.”

  She tilted her chin, still maintaining eye contact.

  “Now what is your Clan name?”

  She parted her lips to tell him anything, everything he wanted to know. The command in his voice made her toes curl into the floor. But she fought the impulse to surrender.

  “I request Hospitality until the time I have a chance to plead my case with the queen.”

  Unease filled her–he seemed to see more than she wanted to reveal. Seconds, hours, days seemed to pass before he increased the span between them and spoke.

  “Granted. As the Beta to the Koning Clan it is my responsibly to see to your safety until the queen returns.”

  “Returns? How long will she be gone?”

  He shrugged.

  “Great.”

  Hopelessness hung in the air like smoke, smothering her very breath. She couldn’t stay here. Her father’s men would find her soon. If not them, then the others would come. She shuddered.

  Maybe she should tell him part of the truth, enough to keep him safe when they found her, if they hadn’t already succeeded. They could be waiting in the forest watching, biding their time to drag her back to her life of servitude. She sat down with deep sigh and started to eat her cold breakfast. If she had to run again, then she could at least be full.

  ~****~

  He hid his grin. She thought he couldn’t smell the panic and slight arousal coming off her in waves. The little cat had a secret. Little did she know, he knew she was Alexandria Aurora Abigail Santos, the legendary white panther, first to be born in several hundred years. Her father was the Santos Clan leader and friends with Gryph.

  After he placed her in his bed he’d discreetly looked into her identity, making him glad he’d gone with his gut to keep her close. Rumors of her going missing spread through their world like a forest fire. Little miss, the predator, became the prey for every Clan when she left her father’s territory. Clint planned on doing the right thing and returning her to her family, safely, unharmed, and untouched. Now he couldn’t. She invoked Hospitality, becoming his problem until Gryph and Jenny returned home.

  Fuck. She probably had people tracking her, some friendly, some not so much. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he faced the reality of how much shit she just piled up at his door. He needed more coffee. Maybe some whiskey.

  The sound of her chewing like a cow grated on his frazzled nerves. His back ached from his not-so-comfy coach. He barely slept a wink. The way she tossed and turned between his sheets while she let out soft, contented sighs of pleasure didn’t do much for his raging hard-on either. God, what he would give to have her make that noise as he seated himself deep inside her pussy.

  There went his over-eager cock ready to offer its assistance.

  The world went quiet. Damn. Something was wrong. Danger. He slipped on his shirt, pulled his socks and boots on his feet. He needed to find out exactly what had the animals in the forest spooked enough to go quiet. Something or someone was on the hunt.

  “Do you have to chew so loudly?”

  She swallowed the mound of food and followed it with half a glass of fresh-squeezed OJ. Giving him a sickeningly sweet smile, she piled on as much pancake as the fork could handle without collapsing under the weight. Then she filled her pretty pink mouth to the brink of exploding and proceeded to chew. Pieces fell out on the table, and she grinned like an idiot.

  For some unknown reason he found her little show adorable. He turned before she could see his smirk.

  “Fine, I’ll put on some music to drown you out.” Partially telling the truth, he flipped on Rascal Flats to cover the noise he was about to make and announced, “I’m gonna grab a shower, honey. Be out in a bit.”

  She waved at him dismissingly. “Whatever, have fun.”

  The Little Cat needed an attitude adjustment; a spanking would do the trick. He doubted she’d ever had one. The idea of her ass up in the air while her round little cheeks burned from his attentions made his already hard cock pulse with need. It really was too bad he couldn’t shower and take the edge off. He’d used it as an excuse to leave the room. He didn’t want to alarm her if it wasn’t necessary.

  Walking to his bathroom, he turned on water, using the sound to back up his cover story and strolled into his room. He grabbed his bug-out bag. He had it just in case the proverbial shit hit the fan. Now despite Gryph’s teasing he was glad he had it. He stepped into the living room, walking up to the still eating Alex. He went to alert her to the danger when a knock sounded at the door.

  Alex stood, nailing him right in the chin.

  “Ow,”she complained, “what are you doing out here anyway? I thought you went to shower.”

  “I needed something from the kitchen. Good thing too. Looks like we have a guest.”

  “Really, you were going to shower?” Sarcasm dripped from her words. She took in the sight of his bag and weapons strapped to his torso. “Yeah, okay, Rambo.”

  He placed his gear out of sight behind the couch. “Go get your shoes on.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Now.”

  “Fine.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. If she wanted to see this whole Hospitality thing to its end, she needed to start listening to him before she got them both killed. Palming his Glock, he opened the door. He never would have never guessed who was behind his door.

  Chapter Three

  Why did males have to be so darn bossy? First her father, now she had a sexy lupine telling her what to do. She sat on the edge of his bed and fished her boots out from beneath the edge. With a brisk puff of air, she blew her bangs from out of her eyes and noticed some framed photographs on top of his dresser.

  Her boots snugly on her feet, she rose and decided to see who was important enough in Cowboy’s life to rank a photo in his room. Biting her lip, she braced herself. Why it mattered? She didn’t know. The first was of a woman probably in her sixties with graying hair. She looked fit and completely at ease next to the several hundred pound animal standing next to her.

  Horses. Alex never really got the appeal. She didn’t like the smelly beasts, and they sure as hell didn’t like her. She’d like to think it was her cat they didn’t really like but she had her doubts. The next photo was of her Cowboy a little too close to a leggy redhead. Typical. Both seemed to be laughing while sitting side by side on a white porch swing. Wait, did she just think of him as hers?

  A low growl rolled in from the living room, startling her enough so she almost dropped the photo. Placing it back in its spot, she hurried to investigate just in time to catch the name being spat from Clint’s lips.

  “Kane.”

  Tension rolled off of the males so thick she may have needed a chainsaw just to make it into the living room. She’d be an idiot to not realize the black-haired male was not welcome.

  “Aren’t you goin
g to invite me in, Hillbilly?”

  They seemed to be having a silent conversation consisting of chest-puffing and the bearing of teeth.

  God, males can be so ridiculous.

  Shaking her head, she stepped into the room. “Now Cowboy, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to be rude to guests?”

  Not taking his gaze off of Kane he answered, “He’s not a guest, he’s a trespasser.”

  The male crossed the threshold and whispered barely loud enough for her to hear, “Shoot me with the gun in your hand and you’ll never know why I’m here. I swear on my honor I’m not here to take the girl.”

  “You have no honor.”

  Kane’s lips formed something she would imagine was a pained smile.

  “That may be true most of the time, but today you would be wrong. It could cost you both your lives.”

  Clint seemed to consider the stranger’s words and finally closed the door. “You better make it fast. My trigger finger is a little itchy.”

  Kane clicked his tongue, “That’s no way to thank me.”

  “For what?” Clint scoffed. “Gracing me with your offensive presence or ruining my morning shower?”

  “Be nice or I won’t tell you who or what are waiting in the forest.”

  Alex placed her hand on Clint’s shoulder, stopping his lunge. She didn’t acknowledge the electricity running through her arm or the way he seemed to relax beneath her touch.

  “I think we should listen, and thank you for coming to our aid.” Something like gratefulness flashed in the man’s coal black eyes. He dipped his head and continued.

  “There are a total of five men; three are shifted into their beasts. From the scent I could gather, they are all jackals.”

  Even Alex knew what that meant. Mercenaries.

  “Why should I trust you?” Clint spat. “For all I know you could be here to collect the reward from Santos.”