When A Lioness Snarls (A Lion's Pride Book 5) (5 page)

Before he could talk himself out of it, he snared Luna close with an arm curled around her waist. He drew her taut to him and lifted her on tiptoe so that her lips could come within a hair of his own.

“Don’t worry about my acting skills in public,” he whispered across her lips. “I’ll play the part of loving boyfriend, so long as you can play the part of sane female. Of us two, I think your role will be harder to achieve.”

With that, he released her, noting the O of surprise on her lips along with the annoyance—and heated interest—in her gaze.

Uh-oh. I think I might have made things worse.
Screw the eye of a tiger. The gaze of a lioness was much more deadly.

S
talking
into the pride’s condominium complex—where most of the lions and a few stray breeds in the city chose to live—Luna found herself still flummoxed by Jeoff. The man knew how to get her inner kitten purring and how to bristle her fur, all in a single stroke.

Talk about out of the ordinary. Usually, Luna was the one putting men off balance. This reversal of roles didn’t sit well at all. It also wouldn’t last long. Once they found out what had happened to those missing folk, she could go back to lusting after Jeoff from afar.

Or I can use this opportunity to scratch that itch.
And then move on to furrier pastures.

“Luna!” A chorus of voices shouted her name as she pushed through the second set of glass doors into the building proper. The condominium complex was the heart of the shifter community for this area. The headquarters, so to speak. But while the men thought they ran the business from their cute little offices upstairs, in truth, the real work was done down below in the lobby.

More than a few tawny heads lifted as amber gazes focused on Luna. She waved a hand in their direction. “Wassup, biatches?”

“About time you got here.” Stacey waved at her. “Get your fat ass over here. We need you to settle something for us.”

“Fat?” Luna grabbed both cheeks. “This is all steel, cow.”

“For now,” Nellie announced in an ominous tone. “We all saw what happened to your mother’s ass after she had you.”

The term voluptuous came to mind. It also brought back traumatizing memories of her daddy constantly grabbing her mother’s bum—and the fact that he still did after almost thirty years of marriage. So perhaps taking after her mother wasn’t a bad thing.

Sauntering in their direction, Luna noted her crew clustered in a circle and looked at something on the floor. “What do you have there?” she asked, pausing outside the ring and peering over them.

Two shoes sat in the circle. A red stiletto with thin straps and an evil arch. The other was a more sedate black pump covered in matte leather, sporting a thicker heel and a solid toe.

“Which ones should Melly wear on her date tonight?”

“Seriously? This is what’s so urgent?” She rolled her eyes and pointed—at Melly’s bare toes. “The answer is painfully obvious. She needs to wear those, but only after a pedicure so that her toes look pretty around his ears.” Because dating was overrated. When Luna wanted a good time, she went out with her friends, and when she wanted a
good time,
she stayed in with whoever grabbed her fancy.

“She’s right! I’m going to order in from that Chinese place down the street. We can have a buffet.” Melly grinned and laughter flowed as ribald suggestions abounded.

Situation resolved, Luna vaulted over the back of the couch and wedged a spot for herself between the ladies.

Stacey leaned close and sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

Another nose pointed in the air and sniffed. “Is that dog? Was someone feeding that stray again?”

“She’s not a stray,” Nellie replied. “She’s Arabella, Hayder’s mate.”

“What a waste of a lion,” sighed Stacey.

“Who cares? I wanna know who reeks of Eau de Puppy.”

“My fault,” Luna admitted. “I was hanging with Jeoff.” Actually, she’d spent the night, but she’d save that wicked bomb for the right moment.

“Hanging with the wolf? Whatever for?” asked Stacey, her fine nose wrinkled. “Did he need a flea bath?” Despite the pride’s close arrangement with the small local pack, there was a certain natural animosity between the feline and canine groups. Good-natured for the most part, but that didn’t stop the jokes.

For a moment, Luna almost admitted the truth, that she and Jeoff were on the hunt for what was beginning to seem like a real conspiracy to abduct folks. Perhaps it was time to draw them in to help with the secret. But…

This was a secret. Not only had Arik told her to keep quiet, but Jeoff had too. And Jeoff, as head of the security firm, was the expert. There was a slight chance that someone in the pride was linked to the disappearances. If she told her crew and her crew blabbed, they might spook any possible suspect.

Keeping this a secret was the right and responsible thing to do, but she needed to tell the girls something.

“I smell like dog because I spent the night at the wolf’s place.” Technically true. “Jeoff and I will be spending time together for the next little bit”—also true—“as a couple.” Imagine the whistling sound of a bomb dropping then
kaboom
!

For a moment, shocked silence prevailed, a short-lived silence. Squeals soon abounded.

“You’re dating Mr. Prissy Pants?”

“A cat and a dog? What is this pride coming to?” someone else moaned.

“When you’re done with him, can I have a turn?”

A snarl curled Luna’s lip before she could stop it. The sudden spurt of jealousy was unexpected. There was nothing wrong with Nellie’s question. Luna was well known for her short-term patience with men. Few lasted more than a few weeks. Her record with a guy was less than three months.

Only because I haven’t met the right one yet.
The one that wouldn’t make her sneak out of his bed and erase her number from his phone.

“So when did this happen?” Stacey asked. “I didn’t realize you two even talked.”

“I’ll bet they did all their talking with tongues.” Nellie made kissing noises and mimed hugging an invisible man, which caused the rest of them to erupt into giggles.

“He’s dating you?” Joan couldn’t hide the shock in her tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luna snapped.

“Just he’s so, you know, proper and stuff.” Joan shrugged. “And you’re so…you know…you.”

The remark was eerily close to Jeoff’s. For some reason, Luna took offense. “Well, we are an item, and we’re going out tonight.”

“Where?” More than few of them asked.

“Some swanky club. He’s picking me up in a few hours.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“Clothes of course.”

Stacey rolled her eyes. “Duh, clothes, but what kind?”

“What’s wrong with what I have on now?”

Apparently there were plenty of things wrong with the items she’d stolen from Jeoff’s closet. A good thing her crew was more than willing to help her—AKA torture and stuff her into a stupid dress that required shaved legs—so that when she came downstairs at nine p.m. that night, she was waxed in all the right places, plucked, hair teased, and face painted into whorish perfection. She looked like a high-priced call girl—in the red heels Melly had rejected. Heels that seemed determined to dump Luna on her ass.

The things she did for work. Arik better appreciate it.
Just like Jeoff better admire it.
Although she couldn’t have said why that mattered.

Teetering into the lounge area, the buzz of conversation died as those crowded around her fake boyfriend turned for a peek.

Luckily no one in the lobby commented on the fact that she wore a dress. Even luckier, none of the lionesses were touching her date.
Paws off, he’s mine.
At least for tonight he was, and she didn’t mind admitting he looked good enough to eat. Jeoff looked like a geeky stud muffin in his slim-fitting slacks, royal blue button-up shirt, and dark jacket. The glasses, which totally rocked her the right way, sat high on his nose. He was missing a tie, but, all in all, he looked absolutely delicious.

As she strutted to him in the heels that clacked obscenely loud on the floor—no sneaking up on anyone while wearing those suckers—she showed no expression as he looked her up and down, but even he couldn’t hide the shine of approval in his gaze.

“I didn’t think you owned a dress.”

“Watch it, dog, or you’ll be leaving here without a tongue.”

He smiled. “And wouldn’t that be a waste, given what it’s capable of doing?”

The innuendo caused her to stumble, or maybe it was the heels. Either way, she fell forward, but didn’t need to rely on her feline ability to land on her feet because a certain wolf came to her rescue. He caught her and steadied her, the corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth. “Point. I think I just won that round.”

“Are you keeping score?”

“Aren’t you?” he asked.

Of course she was, and now that he’d gotten ahead by one, she’d have to get him back.

“Shall we?” He crooked his arm, and she linked her arm in it, and when the ladies who had hung around whistled and cat called, she extended a middle finger and blew them a raspberry.

“Later, biatches!”

“Was that necessary?” he asked as he held open the outer glass door for her. Did he think her incapable of opening it herself?

It’s called manners.
The arrogant men in her pride didn’t always show them.

“Was what necessary?”

“Forget it. I’m surprised to see you went all out for this evening. How did it feel to have to put on clothes?”

“Not as bad as expected since the girls all agreed I should skip the bra, and the panties are the tiniest thong in existence.”

“What?” He stumbled on the sidewalk. Poor wolfie, he just wasn’t as graceful as a feline.

“I’m practically commando. Makes it easier in case we decide to hit a bathroom at the club for a little something-something.”

“We are not going to have sex. We are going there to do a job.” The words emerged clipped.

She laughed. “Relax. I’m not going to maul you.” Until later.
Rowr
. “But I had to make the girls believe I was planning to. If we want this charade to work, then we need to be a couple in public, just in case there’s a spy in our midst.”

“Much as it pains me to say, that’s possibly a good point. Although I find it hard to believe one of the pride could be involved in making our kind disappear.”

“I’d rather not think it possible either.” She’d hate to have to kill a friend. For some things, there was no forgiveness, no trial. Justice was applied swiftly to the guilty. “Let’s hope no one we know is involved, but until we can be sure, I’d rather play safe for the moment.”

“Being responsible again. You keep surprising me. I thought the lionesses were all about taking risks.”

“Risks are fine when it’s only us affected. When it comes to best serving those I consider under my protection, then I take safety very seriously. However”—she leaned closer—“when it comes to pleasure, don’t worry. I am wilder than you can imagine,” she purred.

He stumbled.

Awesome.

Something also beeped and lights flashed on a car parked at the curb.

“Don’t tell me that’s your car?” she muttered, totally caught in panty-wetting adoration. She loved her bike, don’t get her wrong, but on chilly nights and rainy days, it would be nice to have the comfort of an enclosed vehicle. Like this one.

“It’s mine.”

His being a 2015 Ford Mustang painted a gorgeous cherry freaking red and highlighted with sparkling chrome. How unexpected. She would have presumed something a little more sedate from the uptight wolf.

Then again, what did she really know of Jeoff? Sure, he sported a hot bod that practically every woman wanted to jump—paws off, biatches—but at the same time, he was rather standoffish with the pride, especially the ladies.

Dates humans
. Her inner feline practically sneered the remark. Or so he claimed because he didn’t want drama.

A little drama is good for the heart. It keeps us strong.

Boredom, on the other hand, was truly dangerous. A bored beast was a reckless one. Luna found herself bored often.

Not around Jeoff, though. There were plenty of things interesting about him. For all his somewhat geek exterior—and really she was having a hard time as seeing those glasses as anything more than the sexiest accessory ever—there was nothing dorky about him.

If she ignored the suits and spectacles, just went on facts, what did she know about him? He ran a security firm employing an interesting mix of human and Lycan, members of his small pack over which he ruled as alpha. So he had balls, even if he worked for the pride. Some of the ladies claimed he played guitar in some band, another totally hot dude thing.

Remember the television.
How could she ignore the fact that his DVR didn’t have a single UFC fight taped? No hard-boiled cop shows. Not a single reality show where contestants lost their shit.

Yes, she’d snooped. How else was she supposed to find out more about Jeoff? Why she needed to know more was something to discuss with her shrink—over a beer. Her favorite bartender had to make it look as if he was working when he dispensed great life advice.

Drawing alongside the car, she couldn’t help but run her fingers along the hood, caressing the smooth painted metal. She had total car envy.

Reaching for the door handle, Jeoff beat her to the chase, once again treating her like a lady—snicker. He opened the door for her and waited until she tucked her legs in before shutting it.

She couldn’t help but admire the interior, maybe a little too much.

Opening the driver side, he paused and blinked down at her. “What are you doing in my seat?”

Luna grinned at him and held out a hand. “I’m driving.”

“No, you’re not. Move over.”

“Ah, come on. Don’t be a grumpy dog. I wanna see how fast this baby can go.”

“I’d prefer to arrive alive.”

“I’ll have you know my driving skills are impeccable. I know my way around a stick shift.” Her hand might have curled around the shifter knob, but her gaze was on a spot below his waist.

He cleared his throat. “The answer is still no. And as your make-believe boyfriend, I insist you listen, or I am going to call a halt to this farce right now.”

“Over a car?”

He ran his hand down the outside of the car, stroking it in a way her skin envied. “Over this car, yes.”

“I consider this cruelty to cats, just so you know,” she grumbled as she slid back over into her seat.

“I’ll make it up with a saucer of cream later.”

“Really?” She perked in her seat.

“Ice cream. In public,” he added.

“And you call us pussies,” she muttered.

“Buckle in.”

For a man who professed a love for his car and feared Luna hurting it, he drove like…well, like Luna did. Fast, furious, with sharp cuts across lanes, abrupt bursts of speeds, and sliding into slim, perfectly timed spots.