“I’ll show you, but you have to promise not to run. My control isn’t great.” His gaze moved to her neck and her hand followed to touch the tender bite mark. Sure felt real. “As you know.”
“Fine, whatever. I promise.” What would her brain come up with next?
“Watch me.”
She kept her eyes locked on him, trying to keep her mind focused on anything but the fact that she was probably unconscious, dying—her brain playing stupid games while she couldn’t do a thing about it.
The smallest detail caught her attention. Nicolas’s nose looked a little wider all of a sudden, and his mouth suddenly appeared too small to hold all of his teeth. Then, as she watched, his bones seemed to move beneath his skin. Horrible cracking noises filled the air, hair sprouted on his formerly smooth skin. His jeans ripped and fell into a pile at his feet. His now furry feet. All four of them.
She gaped at the man in front of her, bile rising to the back of her throat.
As quickly as it began, it was over.
Seconds. Only seconds had passed. But Nicolas no longer stood in front of her. Instead, a full-grown tiger waited.
A huge tiger.
The scream caught in her throat, and the world shifted. She struggled to breathe, to stay on her feet. Suddenly, all of this seemed real—too real.
The tiger didn’t move, but it followed her with its dark eyes. Its mouth opened, and a small sound emerged—a weird, low-pitched whine. Not threatening, yet all too real.
She ran.
Her feet pedaled through knee-deep snow before she realized she’d started moving. With only a sheet clutched around her, the ice and snow penetrated her haze quickly, but she couldn’t seem to stop running. Someone called out her name. She ran faster, picking herself up every time she tripped on the heavy snow.
Less than fifty feet from the cabin, he caught up to her. Nicolas grabbed her around her middle, pulling her off her feet and out of the snow even as she kicked at him.
“Let me go!”
“You’ll get yourself killed for real out here.”
Logic wasn’t something she was interested in. She kicked and scratched at him, but his strength was insurmountable, and he merely grunted in response when she got a good shot in. And as if she weighted nothing and wasn’t squirming to get away, he carried her back to the cabin.
“Put me down,” she growled against his chest when he didn’t immediately release her.
“Promise me you won’t run.”
“Promise me this whole thing is some weird dream.”
A soft chuckle. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
Holy crap. The man had turned into a tiger. She wasn’t totally convinced this whole thing wasn’t just a weird dream, but it was feeling less and less like one. Nicolas felt very real, holding her in his arms. His calming scent filled her lungs when she heaved a sigh.
“This isn’t a dream.” She rested her face against his chest.
He held her tighter and took a deep breath, his face buried in her hair. Maybe he liked how she smelled, too.
“Let me go. I won’t run.”
With care, he set her down on her feet in front of the fire. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost his sheet. She wasn’t sure which was crazier—standing in a cabin, talking to a tiger, or running in the snowstorm in a bed sheet.
Both were pretty dumb, but she only had so many options.
Silence stretched beyond awkward. She couldn’t seem to find any words, couldn’t even manage a thank you when Nicolas brought her a blanket and wrapped it around her shivering body.
Her brain ran through all the logical explanations she could come up with, but none explained any of what had happened, save a feverish dream or the impossible alternative that what she’d seen was real. That Nicolas wasn’t a human hermit—he was a weretiger living in the woods.
“Can I check your shoulder? You might need bandage. Humans aren’t—I don’t want to see you hurt,” Nicolas said, finally breaking the silent stalemate.
She shot him a level glare. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have bitten me.” Or turned into a tiger. No. She had to shut down that thought for now. Freaking out wasn’t going to do anything but get her frozen or chased.
Eyes full of regret, he didn’t look away. “My instincts can be difficult to control sometimes. It’s…it’s why I’m out here. Alone.”
Pain squeezed her chest. Feeling sorry for the man who’d just turned into a tiger in front of her probably made her an idiot, but she suddenly wanted to comfort him. Hold him. Tell him that he wasn’t alone.
Not an option, no matter how much he pulled at her heart.
“Is that why you’re on this mountain?”
A short nod. “I have…problems. Not ones I should have. My bloodlines are pure—I shouldn’t—” He shook his head. “I’m the problem. My brother turned out the perfect prime—the perfect royal tiger. There’s something wrong with me.”
His bloodlines? What the heck did that mean? And what was a prime?
He stepped closer and her foot slid back, but she stopped when she saw him flinch.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, voice low. But he didn’t take another step. God, she’d made the big tiger sad. Why did she feel so guilty about it? He’d bitten her, after all. She’d just wanted a little fun, not a change in her whole understanding of the world. Not a man who seemed to have gotten under her skin in a single night.
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
The small bit of hope in his eyes made her want to hug him even more. She closed the gap between them, but didn’t touch him. “Fine, then. You can look at my stupid shoulder.”
They both dressed, though she left off her shirt, putting on her bra alone, so Nicolas could check her shoulder. He didn’t have bandages, but the wound wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. At least, from what she could see from her awkward angle. He cleaned it out with some water and soap, and applied a small bandage that she suspected was made on the fly from a chunk of one of his T-shirts.
“That biting thing. I’m not going—” She couldn’t finish that sentence; her brain just shut down at the thought. He looked at her quizzically, not understanding her unspoken worry. “I’m not going to turn furry at the full moon or something?” she finished in a rush of words.
“No, of course not.” He grinned. “It’s not transferrable, if that’s what you mean.”
God, he was adorable, even when acting as though shit like that should be common sense. She shrugged, and a small twinge in her shoulder reminded her to keep her distance. “That’s what happens in the movies, but mostly werewolves.”
“You’ll be fine.” He hesitated. “No turning.”
There was something else, something he wasn’t telling her. She opened her mouth to demand to know what, then snapped it shut. Exhaustion weighed on her, like a physical force pushing her shoulder, her legs. Sleep. She needed sleep. Her limit had officially been hit for the amount of strangeness and fear she could handle in one day.
“You should rest,” he said.
“That obvious, huh?” She smiled at him—she couldn’t help it. He was so adorable, floppy hair in his eyes, concern for her etched on his face.
“You look like you may fall over any second.”
“Would you catch me?” Oh, yeah, she was definitely exhausted. Sleep drunk, even.
Finally, he smiled. “I’d never let you fall.”
He followed her to the bed and tucked her under the comforter. But when he started to move away, she grabbed his hand. He paused, looking down at her with a question in his eyes.
“Stay with me?”
A short nod, as if he feared speaking would shatter the small bit of trust she’d managed. She released his hand and he crawled under the covers behind her, then pulled her into his arms. Her eyes closed, and she wiggled just a little closer. Tightening his arms around her, he kissed her hair.
Warm and safe.
She might be going home tomorrow.
Back to her ordinary life. But she had no doubt that this wasn’t the last time she’d see Nicolas. He was inside of her now, in her blood. And somehow, she knew that she was in his blood, too.
Prime Desire
Evie hasn’t been back to the Colorado Rockies in years. Not since she almost lost her life in a terrible snowstorm, only to be saved by a sexy, mysterious stranger. A man who not only saved her life, but who also gave her a night of pleasure she’s never been able to forget.
* * *
But in the midst of passion, Nicolas revealed a frightening new world.
* * *
Fearing her rescuer’s lack of control over his weretiger nature, Evie ran. But when her dream of becoming a wildlife photographer brings her back into Nicolas’s territory, she finds the man almost impossible to resist.
* * *
Nicolas screwed up the night he met Evie. And ever since the plucky human slipped out of his bed without a word, he has been unable to forget her. But he wasn’t ready to follow her then—he was still gaining control of his tiger. Serendipity might have brought them together once, but Nicolas refuses to leave their future to chance.
* * *
He will claim Evie as his mate, or lose her forever.
Prologue
Evie woke with a start, blinking against the dawn light that peeked through the unfamiliar window. Her legs were tangled in something heavy. Heavy and warm.
She sat up, biting back a gasp. A large, muscular man snored softly in the bed beside her, his legs entangled with hers—only a sheet hiding the delicious hunk of a man.
Nicolas.
The night rushed back to her.
The snowstorm—she’d been lost on the unfamiliar mountain after the clouds and cold had descended rapidly. Her friends had gone ahead earlier. She’d only meant to stay a few minutes, get a couple more shots of the beautiful place with her shiny new camera.
She’d thought she was going to die.
But Nicolas had saved her. Brought her here, to his rustic cabin. Fed her. Comforted her. Given her earth-shaking orgasms the likes of which she’d never known existed.
Then he’d bitten her. And before her eyes, changed into a tiger.
Her hand flew to her shoulder, and she winced when her fingertips brushed the still sensitive skin beneath the haphazard bandage he’d made for her.
The night felt like a dream—but this was real. Her heart raced, and she disentangled her legs from his and slid out of the bed.
Nicolas didn’t stir. Face peaceful in sleep, he looked harmless. And damn her if he didn’t look better than harmless; he looked positively yummy.
She licked her lips, then her hand slid, as if of its own volition, back to the bite mark on the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck.
No. The man—weretiger, he’d said—might be yummy, but he wasn’t harmless.
Quiet as she could manage, she picked up her boots and coat, taking them outside to his small deck before putting them on. In the light of the morning sun, with the blue sky surrounding her, the landscape appeared far less intimidating than it had in the dark of night. Familiar markers made her realize how far she’d come. But she could make it back to the lodge alone.
Nicolas didn’t care for visitors, he’d told her as much. He’d probably thank her for leaving. But she wasn’t going to risk finding out for sure. Not because she feared he’d hold her against her will, but because she wasn’t entirely sure she could resist if he asked her to stay.
Steadying herself with a deep breath, she headed into the snow.
Chapter One
Three years later…
“Stupid, freaking thing. Just. Open!” Evie jiggled her key in the equipment cabinet, muttering a curse under her breath. The damn thing never failed to stick, and sometimes it felt like she spent half of her day either trying to get it open or trying to get it locked. Finally, the lock gave, and she wrenched the door open. A tripod flew at her, massive metal sticks going in all directions.
She yelped and hopped back, narrowly escaping a shot to the eye. Of course, the tripod was trying to kill her. It was just that kind of a Monday. Besides, Doug worked the weekend, and the kid couldn't be bothered to load the closet properly.
After she tugged the camera, tripod, and miscellaneous props out of the cabinet, Evie hit the power button on the computer and ran to start the coffee pot. A good half-hour before her first appointment, she was determined to be fully caffeinated before attempting to pry smiles out of sullen teenagers.
Cup in hand, she settled in at the computer and clicked through the news while nursing her coffee. Not much happened in the sleepy California town she’d lived in since graduating college, but the local newspaper’s website did feature an article about a church potluck that went into excruciating detail, as well as the winners of a 4-H competition.
Sleepiness threatening, she checked the studio’s email, but no inquiries had come in since the day before. After one last scan of the local paper, she’d summoned enough courage to check her own account.
A bolded, unread message—complete with an urgent exclamation point flag—waited in her inbox. She flinched. Sure, she’d half expected it, but she’d hoped after her latest long reprieve that her parents had given up.
Fat chance.
Sure enough, there was a job posting attached to the message, which she clicked before even scanning the text. A respectable office position that required a bachelor’s degree but didn’t specify the major. A job that would eliminate the fifty-mile gap she’d managed to get between herself and her parents. A gap she wouldn’t even care about if their disapproval of all her life choices didn’t radiate so obviously with every glance.
She didn’t need their approval. And if she continued to tell herself that, eventually, she might even believe it.
A year had passed since she’d graduated college. A year since she’d refused to go on to graduate school to become something respectable like a businesswoman or lawyer. Even though Evie had taken most of the money she'd saved for grad school and spent it on expensive camera equipment to develop her wildlife photography portfolio, her mother continued to hope.
Grimacing, she clicked back to her mother's email.
Sure enough, her mother started with civilities. Asked how her month was going so far. Checked to make sure she got her flu shot. But after two paragraphs, she got down to business. A quick, innocuous line asking her how work was going. Followed by a not so subtle reminder that she was still young and she could still go back to school. That her parents were more than happy to do everything they could to help her pay for it. Since—the email insinuated but didn't say directly—Evie had gone and wasted all of her own savings on a silly dream.
A dream that wasn't working out.
Her stomach dropped at the thought. Sure, working at a portrait studio—mostly taking senior photos for high school yearbooks, family photos, and even helping her boss, Dana, shoot the occasional wedding—wasn't exactly her lifelong goal. But she got to take pictures—for an admittedly modest income.
Not exactly the same as seeing her photo featured on the cover of National Geographic, but she wasn't ready to give up on that dream just yet.
To reply or not to reply? She bit her lip, feeling a headache starting between her temples. She clicked back to her inbox. Her mom wouldn't panic about her non-reply for a few hours yet, so she'd wait. She just couldn't summon the false cheerfulness—not before finishing her first cup of coffee.
But before she could close out of her email altogether, a new message popped up, catching her attention.
She frowned, then her mouth dropped open. The company name wasn’t familiar. But she didn't care.
The subject read: Wildlife Photographer Needed.
Her heart jumped into her throat. Not once, in all the times she'd sent inquiries and copies of her portfolio, had she gotten a reply back—other than the standard “If we need somebody, we’ll let you know. Thanks so much for your interest.”
The message didn't open with common pleasantries. Instead, it was terse and to the point.
Ms. Lane, Upon considering your portfolio, we believe you would be the right candidate for a series of photos we wish to be taken of a family of Rocky Mountain White Foxes that have been spotted in Northern Colorado. Please reply within forty-eight hours to the phone number below if you are interested. Regards, Ms. Clark.
She hopped up and down in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. This was the chance she'd been hoping for. Her shot. She could hardly believe her eyes, could hardly believe the email had her name on it. On a crazy whim, she hit print screen on the keyboard. The unlikely event that the email would suddenly disappear suddenly weighed on her mind.
The paper was still hot from the printer when she snatched it up to read it again. This much excitement had to be shared.
Lauren answered on the second ring.
"Guess what! Guess what!" She said, bouncing on her seat. Beneath her, the office chair squeaked.
"What? What?" her best friend Lauren asked, echoing her excitement.
"I got a job offer."
"Really? Is it…" Lauren hesitated, obviously trying to find a nice way to ask what kind of job. She knew how disappointed Evie had been in the past, how rare the type of work she wanted to do really was.
"It's photographing foxes." When Lauren didn't say anything, she added, “Rare foxes. For a nature magazine." The name of the magazine wasn’t specified in the email. Odd, but not a deal breaker. Surely they would divulge that when she called them.
"Oh my God!" Lauren said. “That's wonderful. Exactly what you've been wanting. How did this happen? I need all the deets.”
"It…" Lauren brought up a good question. How had it happened? She certainly hadn't applied for any specific job like this. Rocky Mountain Snow Foxes? That, she would've remembered. They were rare, beautiful creatures. So rare they’d been thought extinct for ten years and had only been spotted half a dozen times in the last five. “I guess an editor came across my portfolio.”
Prime Series Collection: (Broken Prime, Prime Desire, Mated Prime) Page 3