My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) (17 page)

Read My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) Online

Authors: Shelley Munro

Tags: #paranormal romance, #feline shapeshifter

“As long as he’s alone and tells you it’s all right. We have to be careful what we discuss and when.”

“I understand.”

She released her seat belt, opened the door, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at him with a quizzical smile. “What?”

“Don’t I get a kiss?”

Her smile widened. “All you have to do is ask.”

“I’m asking.” His voice was gruff, his gaze drifting to her lips.

She leaned over, offering her mouth. She’d expected a quick, perfunctory kiss since he was on the way to meet a client. He curled his hand around her neck and held her in place. His green eyes danced with good humor, his mood contagious. She smiled back, her lips parted as his settled on hers. While the kiss started slow, it didn’t remain that way. He tasted her mouth, ravished it, and when he lifted his head, they were both breathing hard.

“Take care, English,” he said, straightening. He ran a forefinger along her nose and grinned. “Miss me.”

“See you later.” Her hand lingered on his biceps before she pulled away to open the SUV door.

He waved as he drove off, leaving her feeling inexplicably lonely. She shook away the emotions, telling herself she was missing Jenny. True, but she missed Gerard too. Something to consider.

She pushed open the door and entered the police station. It was a small room with no personality. Plain painted walls and a notice board covered with faded signs. A narrow bench attached to one wall, too narrow and hard for comfort. It was a room one entered and exited as soon as possible. London squared her shoulders and approached the desk.

“Is Police Officer Hannah here?”

“No, miss. He’s away sick today. We have a relieving officer from Dunedin.”

“May I see him please? I want to talk to him about my sister’s murder. Jenny Weaver. I’m London Allbright.”

“Take a seat. Officer Kelly should be able to see you soon.”

After leaving the police station, London scanned the street and her surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. Two mothers pushing strollers wandered toward the café. A tractor puttered along the road, the driver pulling in at the petrol station. Shouts and screams rippled from the nearby school. Morning break for the students, and they were making the most of the fine weather.

Smiling, she continued walking toward the café. Things had gone well at the police station, better than good. The replacement officer had listened, taken notes and promised to look into Jenny’s estranged husband. London had told him about her relationship with Royce, that the man was a bully and abusive. She’d departed the police station feeling lighter and confident the cops would check out the things she’d told them.

A car drove past, slowed enough to attract her attention. She tensed as it pulled to a halt, and the driver lowered the passenger window.

“Hello, dear,” a blonde woman said in a husky voice. “Can you give me directions to the Sutton Salt Lake?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not from around here. Your best bet is to ask at the petrol station or the café since the owners are locals.”

“Where are you going, dear?”

London took half a step back, Gerard’s warning to take care jumping to the forefront of her mind. While she suspected Royce had murdered her sister, she might be wrong. “Just to the café.”

“Well hop in and I’ll give you a ride.”

She took another step. “No thank you.”

The woman smiled, displaying her lipstick-stained teeth. “It’s no trouble, dear. I’m going there anyway.”

Pink. Her lipstick was bright pink. “Thanks, but I need the exercise.” London forced a smile, feeling uneasy and not sure why. The lady seemed friendly enough, yet pushy too. The woman’s big sunglasses hid most of her face, and it was difficult to see much with that blonde hair and heavy makeup. London turned away from the car, and tried to ignore the prickling between her shoulder blades. Sugar, her imagination had jumped to an all-time high. The lady was a tourist, not an axe-murderer. This was a public place. The tractor driver waved at her as he drove past, the driver behind him honking his horn with impatience.

London grinned when the driver of the tractor flipped off the other driver. She glanced over her shoulder. The blonde woman was scowling at her. When she noticed London’s scrutiny, the frown smoothed out and transformed to a friendly smile. London’s bullcrap meter twanged. Increasing her pace, she lengthened her strides to reach the café. She covered the last of the distance at a sprint, darting up the short path to the café door. She burst inside, the welcome bell jingling with the same urgency thrumming through her veins. When she glanced over her shoulder, the vehicle had vanished.

“What’s wrong?” Emily appeared around the counter, wiping her hands on a white apron.

“I thought there was someone following me.”

“Where?” Emily darted to the door and glanced outside. “There’s no one there.”

“No, I’m being silly. A lady stopped to ask me directions to the salt lake. Something about her made me nervous. She drove off.”

Emily turned to her, saw the two women with the strollers were eyeing them with curious gazes. “Grab a table, and I’ll get us coffee once I serve these two ladies. It’s not very busy. I can sit with you until another customer arrives.”

“Thanks. Could I have tea?”

“English Breakfast?”

“Perfect.”

Emily hustled away and disappeared behind the counter. She returned with a tray of muffins and placed them in her display cabinet. She made coffee for the women, and they left with their takeout order.

London sank onto the wooden chair and thought back. She didn’t understand why she’d overreacted so much to the woman when she hadn’t done anything wrong except offer to give her a ride.

Emily came around the counter and carried over a tray bearing two mugs, a jug of milk and a teapot. She’d also included two muffins. “I didn’t get time for breakfast this morning. I’m starving.”

“Gerard made breakfast. I never eat much.”

“Saber is always trying to feed me too,” Emily said with a smile. “It’s his way of showing he cares. Gerard is probably the same.”

“Gerard told me about shifters last night. He said I should talk to you if I have questions.”

Emily clapped her hands together. “I told Saber I thought he’d fallen for you. He told me to stop matchmaking.”

“Everything has happened so fast. Meeting Gerard. My sister…” She swallowed and gave two hard blinks, hoping to stave off her tears. “Losing my sister. And now this. When I’m with Gerard everything is right and natural. It’s when we’re apart that I wonder if I’m crazy.”

“Do you like him?”

“A lot, but I’m not sure I should trust my instincts. I’ve been wrong before.”

A customer came in and Emily sighed. “If you want to talk between customers, you can come into the kitchen with me, although I should warn you. I’m likely to put you to work.”

“Actually, I’d enjoy that. It gives me less time to think.”

“How are you at making scones?”

“I have experience.”

“Let me be blunt. Are yours scones edible or do they emerge from the oven looking like schist rocks?”

An unexpected laugh escaped London. “My cheese scones are edible.”

“Right. Now I expect you to prove it. Come on, bring your tea. I’ll tell you about my life before meeting Saber. One thing about the shifter men here, they like women, lots of women,” she amended and pulled a face. “But the second they meet the woman their feline wants, they don’t have eyes for anyone except their mate. They’re pushy and stubborn and go into bossy-mode at the blink of an eye. But they’re loyal and faithful, loving and tender. Once they mark their mate, they can be possessive and jealous, but they will never, ever, be unfaithful. The feline pairings I know of are true partners. While they might be bossy, they’re also supportive.”

“So you’ve never had regrets?”

“Not for a second, but I made Saber work to win me.” She grinned. “Time to make those scones. I’ll serve these customers and come and help you find the ingredients.”

The familiar actions of baking calmed London. She mulled over Emily’s words, reassured by the knowledge Gerard wasn’t playing her when he said he was her mate. Then, her mind turned to the woman outside the café. She’d overreacted, yet the woman made her uneasy. Or maybe, she was overtired. She mixed the dough with gloved hands and turned it out on the floured marble surface. After shaping the dough, she used a cookie cutter to cut rounds. She painted milk over the top, and after a final sprinkling of cheese, she placed them in the oven and put on the timer.

Emily entered the kitchen and beamed. “How are you at cookies? Do you know how to make ANZAC biscuits?”

“I’ve heard of them but never made them.”

“It’s easy enough. Just follow this recipe.” She placed a tattered recipe book where London could see it. “I met Saber at the first Middlemarch Singles ball. We had sex that night, and it was the most intense…” She shook her head, humor dancing across her face. “Let’s just say he talked me into staying.”

“You’ve never regretted your decision.”

“No, not once we mated. I don’t know Gerard well, but I know Leo and Isabella think highly of Gerard and Henry. My sister-in-law doesn’t give her trust easily. If she trusts them, I’m inclined to go with her.”

“Gerard wants me to stay. Henry had asked my sister to stay. She told me before the race she was staying in Middlemarch. I told her…no, implied she was crazy. She was just out of a bad marriage, but she seemed determined.”

“Do you read romances?”

London blinked at the change of subject. “Sometimes.”

“Have you read the ones where the reviews complain about instalove? They scoff and say life isn’t like that. With a shifter, love and relationships
are
like that. Oh, they can sleep around, but if they meet the one—their mate—it’s game over. Think about it. I bet Gerard hasn’t looked at another woman since he met you.”

London recalled the woman who had tried to flirt with him in Queenstown. He’d brushed her aside and when she insisted on pushing her boobs in Gerard’s face, he’d made it clear he was with London. At the time, she’d thought he was being polite, but now…

“What do you suggest?”

“You should stay in Middlemarch. I want to hire you to bake.” Her impish grin lightened London’s mind.

“I suppose I could find out about visas and such. It wouldn’t hurt. I can help you this week. It will give me something to do instead of worrying about a murderer wandering around Middlemarch.”

“Done. I’ll pay you.”

London nodded, although she guessed she didn’t need the money now. Jenny had left her everything in her will. A sob broke free. Nothing was fair. She’d give away the money in an instant if it meant she had her sister back.

* * * * *

Why had she run?

He stared after her, anger contorting his face. When she glanced over her shoulder, he forced a smile.

Bitch.

He pulled onto the road. With London and the man away from the house, he could stake out the place better. But first, he’d grab meat from the supermarket. Might as well get onside with those mangy pooches. He had sleeping tablets at the cabin. They should be strong enough to stop those dogs in their tracks.

London bloody Allbright had been a pain in his side from the moment he’d met her. He’d made a mistake, thinking she was the one with the business nouse, the money. Still, it had turned out okay. His mistake had placed a wedge between the two sisters.

Everything would’ve turned out all right if Jenny hadn’t changed.

But she had. She’d challenged him, mouthed off at him. Then the bitch had gone to a solicitor. She’d changed the locks and forced him out of his own home. Made him a laughingstock.

She’d refused to give him money.

He’d earned that fuckin’ money.

She’d pushed him into a corner until he had one option left.

He clutched the steering wheel, his forearms tensing with the pressure.

And still the bitch had bested him.

With her dying breath.

She hadn’t recognized him at first. Until he’d spoken. He’d enjoyed the way her eyes widened as she’d taken in his appearance. Then she’d turned mouthy, and he’d lost his temper. His mind had blanked, red partially obscuring his gaze. He’d yanked the kitchen knife from his concealed sheath and stabbed her in the chest. It had happened so fast. Too fast for him to enjoy the punishment he’d inflicted.

He remembered talking to her. “Should have kept your mouth shut, bitch.”

She’d laughed.

As blood darkened her T-shirt and life ebbed from her eyes, she’d laughed at him.

She’d told him about her will.

She’d laughed at him, then the bitch had died.

Chapter Eleven

“A woman visited while you and London were out,” Henry said in a low voice. He stood in the kitchen and was making bread. He punched the dough and started to knead it with hard, aggressive rolls of his wrists. “She tossed meat for us to eat. Geoffrey and I made like friendly puppies.”

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