Lord of the Grrr's (59 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Evie kept her eyes peeled for animals as she drove up the winding mountain pass. Inside her head, Lauren chanted, “I told you so.”

“Could have taken the car service they offered, but
no
, had to drive yourself,” she muttered. Evie wasn't brand-new to driving in the snow, but she was no expert. But the idea of being stuck on the mountain—being stuck anywhere, really—without her own transportation hadn't appealed to her. Never know when you might have to skedaddle, and that was tough without wheels.

Her boss hadn't been pleased, but Evie had boarded the plane anyway. Dana had finally agreed to one week—more than that, and Evie would lose her job. Hardly something she could risk given the fact that she might not even get a shot of the foxes. Even if she did, this was only a first step toward achieving her dream, not a guarantee of a new career. And she’d die before she proved her parents right by borrowing money from them to pay her rent.

Just the idea made her stomach lurch.

It was risky to piss Dana off, and the fact that she’d given her zero notice added to the guilt factor. But it was a chance she was willing to take. Besides, she had two weeks of vacation saved up, and Doug had been eager to get full-time hours while she was gone.

A long sigh of relief escaped her when a mid-sized, ramshackle building came into sight. A wooden sign proclaimed it Roy's Watering Hole. Not a place she'd ever been, even though this area was eerily close to where she'd almost lost her life in that snowstorm.

She shook off the thought and pulled into the parking lot. Beneath the spring snow, gravel ground against her tires. Only three other vehicles—all of them pickups—were parked in front of the building. No wonder Ms. Clark from the magazine had been so certain the guide would have no problem identifying her among the
crowd
.

That had been a weird conversation. For one thing, Ms. Clark had sounded younger than Evie’d expected, and she’d seemed almost flustered by her call. Of course, the magazine was apparently a startup ezine with limited print distribution. Maybe Ms. Clark was just getting her start, as well.

But the editor had assured her there would be a payday at the end of this—and most importantly, a credit in the magazine—if she managed to get a few good shots. They had foot the bill for her flight and rental car, which went a long way toward putting Evie’s mind at ease.

She hopped out of her rented SUV and headed into the restaurant.

The scent of frying hamburger mixed with bacon made her stomach growl the second she hit the door. Maybe her guide would be willing to stick around for another hour so she could get lunch. There hadn't been time to eat anything between her early flight and grabbing the rental car. The granola bar she’d put in her purse certainly hadn't stuck with her long.

The interior of Roy's Watering Hole appeared how she'd expected. A dance floor on one side—a small one, to be expected given the tiny population in the area—and tables for meals on the other. Behind it all sat a long bar. No doubt the place served breakfast, lunch, dinner, and drinks after dark. A one stop shop for a town that likely had few, if any, other restaurants.

Two men, both sporting gray hair—one far more hair than the other, sat at a table together, drinking beers with their burgers. Neither of them looked fit enough to be the man guiding her up a mountain. In a shadowed corner of the bar area, one other man sat with his back to her. She took a few steps toward him.

Familiarity jolted her to a stop.

Her stomach twisted as she took in the broad shoulders and the large, muscled frame. It wasn’t him—it couldn’t be. A ghost from her past, her mind playing tricks, that’s all that was going on here. The knowledge that she was coming back to this place—so near to where they’d met—was making her see him in the image of strangers.

Then he turned. Familiar green eyes met hers.

Nicolas.

Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t manage to do anything but stare.

Nicolas didn’t have the same reaction. His mouth twisted into a familiar grin.

Holy shit. He’d been expecting her.

“Hey, city girl.” He approached her slowly, as if she might run.

She couldn't blame him—it wouldn't be the first time she ran from him. But this time, she wouldn’t be doing a weird walk of shame down a mountain.

At least he didn’t currently look like a tiger. Although, that could change pretty damn quick. She swallowed a hysterical laugh.

“What are you—I mean, how—” Body numb, her brain rattled with so many thoughts she couldn't even process them, let alone come up with something coherent to say.

He waved toward a table, and her body moving automatically, she sat. Thankfully, he didn’t try to pull out her chair. That might have tipped her over the edge and sent her out the door.

He sat across from her, his mouth twisted into a frown. “I'm sorry. I probably should've called you or something. Warned you that I was going to be your guide.” His grin reappeared with a teasing edge. “But that would've been a lot easier had you given me your number before you ran out last time.”

After gaping at him for a long moment, she snapped her jaw shut. What was this? Some weird, twisted dream rolled up with an embarrassing nightmare? “Why are
you
here?”

She wished she could take the question back as soon as she said it. He’d already said he was her guide—but that didn't really explain anything, did it?

“I’m here to lead you to where those foxes have been sighted.”

“How?” The question escaped her lips, more incredulous noise than an actual word. “I know coincidences happen, but this—”

He threaded his fingers together and leaned back, placing his hands on his lap. Trying to appear harmless? Fat chance. She knew better than that.

“It's not totally a coincidence, you're right.” He signaled the lone waitress to bring them menus. Yeah. Like she was interested in eating now.

“I'm going to need a little more info than that, country boy.”

He snorted. “My family owns the land the foxes have been spotted on, and when there was talk of letting the magazine come and take pictures…” He shrugged. “I thought of you.”

“The last time we saw each other, I was a student. Why would you—”

“Your portfolio was among those we received.”

That kind of coincidence was tough to swallow. But what was the alternative? Sure, he might have known of her aspirations after a quick Facebook search. But that suggested…what? That he was checking up on her? It was the why of it that bothered her.

Maybe he wanted to make sure she was doing well. Her heart wanted to believe that. It would suggest…well…that maybe their single night together had meant something to him. But that didn't seem likely. This hunk of a man—hunk of
more
than a man, really—certainly hadn't spent nights thinking about her like she had about him. Right?

That she still thought of their time together wasn’t in any way reasonable. A single night. Sure, she gave herself a break. Had to, given the fact that he'd not only given her the best sex ever in the history of sex, but that he'd also saved her life. It was no wonder she was more than a little infatuated with him. That, and the fact that he turned into a frigging weretiger.

Those kind of shenanigans got a girl's attention.

His second nature should've cooled her infatuation. At least the lust.But damn her if his tigeryness didn't affect her feelings. She should have been afraid of him.

She
was
afraid of him.

But he'd saved her life. And looked at her with such tenderness that even the memory of it broke her heart a little.

She swallowed hard, hoping he couldn't see the direction of her thoughts on her face. “This just seems a little weird. A little too coincidental.”

Good God, what if he hadn't kept tabs on her because he cared, but because he was worried that she would reveal his secret? The thought startled her and made her heart race.

The waitress, fifteen if she was a day, popped her gum as she set the menus in front of them. After a long, far too obvious stare toward Nicolas, she wandered back behind the bar.

“Okay, I might have requested you specifically.” He shrugged, expression chagrined. “I’m not a stalker, but I have checked up on you once or twice. You have
a lot
on Facebook about your photography dream.”

She couldn’t help but grin. Her Facebook was slathered from top to bottom with wildlife pictures and posts about her progress and hopes. “I guess you wouldn’t have to look too hard to figure out my passion.”

His smile widened. “The digging was minimal. Don't tell me you've never looked up exes on Facebook just to see how they're doing.”

A nervous laugh escaped her. She hadn’t had any exes to speak of since him. Ridiculous. No way was she saying that. “Maybe once or twice. But I can guarantee you I was more interested in making sure they
weren't
doing well.”

He laughed, too. A sexy, dangerous rumble low in his chest. “I’ve never wished you ill, Evie. I understand why you left the way you did.”

Throat suddenly tight, she nodded. She'd worried she hurt him. But after a night of crazy, fantastic sex with a man who turned out to be a weretiger, her options had felt limited. She hadn't been afraid of him at that point—although she hadn’t exactly been unafraid of his tiger—but she'd had no idea what to say to him in the light of day. Thanks for saving my life? Thanks for the awesome sex? Thanks for guaranteeing nightmares by turning into a tiger and thus proving supernatural things are real?

Yeah, there was no way to make that anything less than super awkward. So she'd made her escape.

“This isn't some weird trick to get me on your mountain so you can murder me to cover up any…information I might of been privy to that night, is it?”

It was his turn to look shocked. “No.” Then he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers, and for a brief second, she glimpsed the intense man beneath the charming façade. “I would never hurt you, Evie. Never.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, throat too tight to form words. But she believed him.

His face relaxed, and he settled back in his chair. “Saving your life was a lot of work. I had to tromp through snow. Carry you back. Feed you.” He shook his head, expression put out. “Too much work to reverse it years later for no reason.”

She grinned behind her hand, but before she could tease him back, the waitress reappeared. She looked bored, expectant, pen and small notebook in hand. “You guys ready?”

“Give us five, Becky.”

The teen rolled her eyes and wandered to the other table where the men were finishing their burgers.

Nicolas didn't reach for his menu. Instead, again he leaned across the table toward her. “Look, I can understand if this is too weird for you and you don't want to climb a mountain with me. But I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you if you do. If you choose to trust me.”

She did trust him, and that was part of the problem. Granted, he'd never done anything to prove he couldn't be trusted—saving her life pretty much put him in the category of default trust—but his tiger had. Nicolas had bitten her during sex, and if his horror at his actions was anything to go by, it wasn’t something he’d done purposefully.

If the man hadn’t been weretiger…

But it didn't matter. No way was she letting this opportunity go. “I'm not going anywhere.”

CHAPTER THREE

Evie was just as determined as he’d remembered. Just as witty and fun to verbally spar with. Just as beautiful.

She’d said he’d filled out—he’d heard the mutter under her breath as they walked outside after lunch. That might be true, but he wasn’t filling his clothing in the luscious way she was. When they’d met, she’d been a twenty-year-old, a young woman, still blossoming into the beautiful creature that stood before him today. Lush curves and as ass that wouldn’t quit made his jeans tight. And her breasts…damn.

It took every bit of willpower he could muster not to close the distance between them and claim her in that damn restaurant.

Yeah, buddy. That wouldn’t scare her or anything.

Even now, driving his truck while she trailed behind in her rented SUV, he was hard as a rock. Her scent lingered on his clothes.

The lie crawled under his skin—a living, breathing thing that would bite him in the ass eventually. Nicolas hated lying to her, even by omission. But it was necessary—and a hell of a lot less uncomfortable than not having her in his life. Based on her reaction to him when she saw him, he couldn't have it both ways. She hadn't seemed displeased to see him, not exactly. But he'd seen the sliver of fear behind her eyes before she’d covered it up. She wouldn’t have come up here willingly—not without a damn good reason.

So he'd given her one.

He couldn’t blame her. It had taken years for him to trust himself to be around her. His whole life, he’d had control issues with his tiger. He’d matured early—turning into a full tiger when he was barely out of diapers. At that age, he’d been far too young to have any hope of controlling himself. He blacked out when the shift came over him, and although he’d had yet to hurt anyone, he couldn’t be permitted around weaker tigers or other children. Let alone humans. Even a young tiger could kill.

So his mother had squirreled him away—taking him to the edge of his father’s territory to keep him and everyone else safe. She’d left his brother behind to be raised by their father.

Even given his problems, he still figured he got the better end of the bargain than Erick. At least their mother had loved them, and had cared for Nicolas the best she could. Their father…well, he was a scary fucker. Strong enough to be prime—leader of their clan. He had given his royal heritage to his sons—the ability to turn into full tigers—but he hadn’t given them much else. Certainly never a kind word or any parental regard. He didn’t envy Erick, who was raised by him, while their mother spent her efforts keeping Nicolas safe.

Once he hit his teens, they’d gone back to live among the clan. His control had seemed better. Until he shifted in the midst of a rage and attacked his father.

He was lucky he hadn’t been killed.

But he’d been sent away. Essentially banished, although technically, he could have stayed, if he’d been willing to fight his father. Nicolas wasn’t sure that was a battle he could win. Even as he aged, his father was a tough, mean son of a bitch. And what would he do if he won? Challenge his older brother to see if he could kill him, too? Erick had never been warm, never been a real brother to him—how could he be when they were raised so far apart?—but he wasn’t cruel. He could lead their people someday. Nicolas, with so little command over his tiger, could never be anything but a danger to them all.

So he’d left—back to the property so far from the main clan lands that most didn’t realize it was even part of their territory. Left his mother behind, as she was forbidden to follow. Ten years passed—ten years spent in the tiny cabin. The rest of his teens and half of his twenties slipped by in that small space, only rarely did he venture out for supplies.

His mother passed away. Then his father.

Control remained stubbornly out of reach.

Then he heard a cry for help. Even with his very sensitive ears, the call had been difficult to make out. Difficult to follow. But he’d managed. And at the end of the trail was his savior.

Evie thought he’d rescued her that night, but she’d saved him just as soundly.

With a smile that could light up a room and an attitude made no less plucky after her close call, she’d lit up his cabin and his life in a way he’d never expected. Leery of his tiger, he’d known that touching her, kissing her, fucking her, was a risk.

But he hadn’t been able to resist.

Unfortunately, his tiger hadn’t, either. And in the midst of passion, he’d bitten her. Claimed her as his mate.

He’d refrained following her when she slipped out the next morning, knowing he could too easily hurt her if she stayed.

But his control improved, and with every bit of courage he could summon, he began to start allowing himself to shift again, to embrace his nature.

Little by little, his control increased. Having a real life suddenly seemed possible.

But he never forgot Evie. And he couldn’t imagine any kind of life without her in it. So he’d made a plan. Called for help from—of all people—his brother. Shockingly, Erick had agreed—on the condition that Nicolas would return to the clan, at least to meet his soon-to-arrive niece or nephew.

Sure, things hadn't gone exactly as planned. She'd refused his offer to have someone pick her up. And at the diner, she'd demanded to drive herself to his cabin.

She was a determined woman, and careful. Both qualities he admired, even though they now kept his hands, sweaty from fear, gripped hard on his steering wheel. He did his best to keep his eyes on the road ahead of him, when all he wanted to do was watch the rearview mirror to make sure she was okay.

When Evie had even demanded to know if the cabin was the same one where they'd met—he was quick to assure her it wasn’t—her scent had touched him, strong enough to detect even across the table. Not fear. Or, not
only
fear.

Lust.

It wasn't love—but it gave him hope. Hell, he couldn't expect her to love him, they'd only spent a single night together. A single night that had driven the purpose of his life for the last three years.

A good hour passed before they finally crept up his tiny road that ended at his new cabin. He turned off the truck, and immediately jumped out. She pulled up next to him—likely unable to see that she parked on the corner of his garden, hidden under the couple of inches of snow.

He was relieved they’d made it without issues, but Evie looked irritated when she stepped out of her rented SUV.

“Seriously?” she asked, face alight with anger. “Did you forget where the gas pedal was? Or did you hope I would die of old age before we got here?”

He frowned at her. He'd been going slow, sure. The idea of losing control and hitting a tree had kept his foot as light the gas as he could. But she didn't seem to appreciate his concern for her safety.

Instead of waiting for a reply, she huffed and reached into her backseat to pull out a camera case and a suitcase. She'd already wrapped another piece of equipment around her back before he realized he was letting her carrying all of her stuff alone—he really had to stop checking out her ass before she caught him. He reached out to help, but she pulled back.

“I can carry my things.”

He almost growled in frustration. “I'm not questioning your abilities. Just being a polite host.”

She crinkled her brows then shrugged. She shoved the suitcase at him, but not the camera equipment. “Fine. Carry away.”

He fought a grin and led her up the steps to his cabin.

He'd swept the porch before heading to town, but a little powder clung to it. Just to be safe, he waited for her to start up the stairs first before following closely behind. He wouldn't allow her to slip on his deck and crack her skull open.

“You're being weird,” she said, as he opened the door.

“You're being weird,” he countered.

She laughed, a bright, glowing sound that made his chest tight. “Touché.” She scrunched her nose. “You didn’t lock the door.”

“Out here?” He snorted. “If someone gets all the way up here, they deserve the chance to steal something.”

Not much of a chance, if he was anywhere nearby.

They stepped into the house and he held his breath. He hadn't realized how much he wanted her to like his home, but he couldn't take his eyes off her as she scanned their surroundings.

Every square inch of hardwood, every drop of paint, had been born of his sweat. He hadn't
only
spent the last three years gaining control over his tiger—he'd spent it building a home. A home that he'd imagined, in his deepest of thoughts, sharing with her.

She turned to look down the halls, and he took in her expression. A wide smile touched her lips, and her eyes were filled with wonder. “It's a step up from your old cabin.”

“Thanks.” Then, he felt compelled to add, “I built it myself.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” She turned and scanned the room again, taking in all of the woodworking he'd spent so much time on, the granite countertops he'd needed every bit of his tiger strength to install by himself. “It’s…lovely, Nicolas. Just lovely.”

His chest tightened almost painfully at her words, at her approval. “Thank you.”

After taking her bag and gear into his guest room, he gave her a quick tour of the rest of the house, trying his best not to preen too much at her compliments. When they returned to the living room, she clapped her hands together once. “All right. Are you ready to get out there?”

Of course, the foxes. She wouldn’t find any out there tonight. Hell, not so much as a track would be visible until morning. “It’s too late. We’ll head out at first light.”

She frowned. “I'd rather go tonight. Get the lay of the land—heck, the universe could smile down at me and give me amazing shots first thing. I’d be outta your hair in no time.” Her grin returned. “I know how you feel about guests.”

“I enjoy some guests more than others.”

Her grin faltered. “This isn't—I'm not a college kid anymore, Nicolas. I'm a responsible adult.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Whatever that means.”

“It means that I don't sleep with random hot guys I meet on mountains.”

“Even if they save your life?” he deadpanned.

She crossed her arms and blew a puff of breath to get a sheaf of hair out of her eyes. “That's not why—I mean, you don't think —”

“Course not. It's just so tempting to tease you.” He knew she hadn't slept with him simply because he’d saved her life. They'd both been hungry for each other—ravenous. Hell, he was ravenous for her right now.

And not just because his body woke like a hungry bear the second he’d seen her. Even three years ago, something in her had drawn him to her. A quiet strength, and a naughty attitude.

“Good.” She nodded to herself, glancing away from him. “Good,” she repeated. “I'm a grown-up now. This isn't going to be a repeat of that night.”

“You seemed pretty grown-up to me back then,” he said, insinuation clear. He stifled a grin at the sight of the blush creeping up her neck and cheeks. “So, no amazing sex. Got it. I'll take that right off the list.”

She gasped, and the laugh he'd been holding escaped him, rolling out of his chest even as she smacked his shoulder.

“You're incorrigible,” she said.

“And you're far too easy to embarrass for a grown-up.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Not one that showed his true feelings—that what he really wanted to do was peel off her clothing bit by bit, licking, nibbling, and kissing her skin. “I get it. Don't worry, I can be a professional. I’m allowing you on my family’s land because I trust you to do the same. Not because I hope to seduce you.”

It was the second time he’d lied to her, and it tasted just as sour and terrible on his tongue as the first.

A flash of something—something he hoped was disappointment—flashed across her face. But she recovered quickly. “Then, as a professional, I think you should take me out to see those foxes tonight.”

“Your safety is my main concern.”
My only concern.
“We’re not going on that mountain tonight.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine. Then what would you like to do for the next few hours?”

He couldn't help but tease her. “Well, if sex is off the table, I guess we'll just have to do what everybody else does.”

“Oh, and what's that?” Was he imagining it, or had her voice turned distinctively husky?

He stepped closer to her, so close that her scent fully filled his lungs. Sweet and spicy and full of lust. Fuck. How was he supposed to act like a professional when she smelled so damn good?

“We'll try small talk over a couple of beers and pretend that we’re not thinking about sex.”

***

The temptation to run away was fierce, but she saw the spark of mischief in his eyes, and no way was she going to give him the satisfaction of bolting to his guest room while his laughter followed in her wake. She straightened her spine and did her best to sound nonchalant. “What kind of beer do you have? I don't do Guinness.”

He flashed his sexy grin, and his voice lowered. “I'm sure I have something that will satisfy you.”