When an Alpha Purrs (4 page)

A sharp whistle stole Arik’s attention from his task.

“Look who’s a pretty boy again.” Hayder strode into his office and immediately honed in on the new look.

A vain creature, not something he ever denied, Arik couldn’t help but preen and show off. “Like it? I think it makes me look rather distinguished.”

“And a total chick magnet too, dude. The girls on the telecom floor are all talking about it. Maybe I should think about getting a trim. Who did it?”

“A certain scissor-happy woman.”

“No way. Don’t tell me you stuck to your plan and confronted the broad who scalped you?”

“I did. Turns out she’s quite talented when I’m not pissing her off.”

Hayder whistled. “I’ll say. I wouldn’t mind letting her put her hands on me.”

Arik clamped his lips before a growl could escape. What was wrong with his lion? “She’s pretty busy.”

“So? I’m making an appointment. What’s the girl’s name?” Hayder asked.

“Mine.” Who’d said that? Surely not him. Arik almost looked around to see who else was in his office, but judging by Hayder’s dropped jaw, there was only one culprit. His damned cat, who seemed to harbor a thing for the human girl.

Okay, maybe he should share the blame because his lion wasn’t the only one intrigued by Kira. While he’d initially gone to the hair shop this morning and lain in wait for a certain mouse as part of his revenge plot, he’d since had a change of mind. A drastic change of mind.

The haircut helped. She’d taken what he’d pissed and moaned about as a disaster of epic portions and turned it into a positive. If only he’d given her a chance yesterday before stomping home and ranting to anyone who would listen.

In retrospect, he might have overreacted. He could even almost feel guilty that he’d spent an evening alternating between roaring at his female family members who offered to tear Kira into chunks, to snarling at cousins, who almost peed on the carpet they were laughing so hard.

But the fantastic haircut wasn’t the only reason for his change of mood. The sizzle of attraction between them, abetted by the scent of her arousal, which she couldn’t hope to hide from a predator, had evaporated his initial ire into…

He wasn’t sure what he felt, other than a need to see more of Kira.

Yes. More Kira. Naked. With lots of licking involved.

“Mine? That’s an odd name?” Hayder mused aloud. “I don’t think I’ve ever come across it. Is it foreign?”

“Don’t be an idiot. Her name is Kira, but I don’t want you going near her.” Because Hayder was a ladies man, and he’d hate to have to kill his beta. But he would if he had to.

No touch. Mine.

Oops, he might have growled that part aloud.

Hayder laughed. “Holy smokes, dude. What the hell happened this morning? Yesterday you were all ‘vengeance is mine,’ and today it’s all ‘she is mine’.”

Arik resorted to a white lie. “I can’t have my proper revenge if you’re meddling. So stay away from her. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Which will be never.

He really needed to have a talk with his feline side. It was getting territorial about the girl, which wasn’t an option.

As alpha of his pride, when Arik did settle down, it would be for political reasons and with someone carrying the felidaethropy gene. In other words, another lion, or at least a feline shifter, like him. It was what shapeshifters did to keep the bloodlines pure.

It wasn’t that humans and shifters couldn’t marry and have babies. They could, and did, but there was a catch. Only about ten percent of these mixed matings would bear offspring with the animal gene. Given their low population numbers, they couldn’t afford their strongest to hook up with humans.

Even if they were tempting, and cute.

However, with all that said, it didn’t mean he couldn’t play with Kira. Cats did so enjoy teasing and toying with mice.
Grab her sweet tail and make her squeak.

Thing was, no matter how many times he reminded himself of the impossibility of them having a relationship, he spent the day thinking about her. And the more he thought about her, the more it occurred to him that the feisty woman he’d met wouldn’t necessarily behave like others.

Arik was used to having females throw themselves at him. If it wasn’t his wealth that attracted them, then it was his power, and, no, it wasn’t vain to admit that he wasn’t hard to look at.

When it came to the opposite sex, Arik didn’t lack for attention. However, even he had to admit Kira wasn’t like the women he usually dated. For one, she tried to stand him up.

Parked in a chair in a café, with a clear view of the barbershop, he saw her exit just before five, furtively peeking in both directions.

Was his mouse hoping to escape him?

Not this time. Throwing some bills on the table, Arik left the café and shadowed Kira, instinct having him duck behind bus shelters or inside shop doors just before she craned to peek over her shoulder.

Being a human didn’t mean her instincts didn’t try to warn her she was being stalked. However, she couldn’t tell for sure because she was dealing with the king of predators. Arik knew how to blend in and track his prey. He also knew when to pounce, which was when she least expected it.

“Running somewhere?”

She squeaked and stumbled but didn’t fall, as he shot out a hand to grab her.

She whirled to face him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I could ask the same of you. I thought the plan was to meet at the shop. Yet here you are picking up fish? Got a date with a cat?” He loved the irony of his words but hated her reply.

“I’m actually more of a dog lover.”

“Cats are nicer.”

“They’re snotty creatures who think they own you.”

How well she already knew his breed.

“And they’re always hacking up hairballs. No thank you. I’ll take an obedient dog any day.”

Obedience was overrated, unless it was from his underlings. Arik preferred to be the one giving the commands. She’d soon learn that. “Am I to assume you were planning to get changed and return before six for our dinner date?”

Judging by the expression on her face? No.

“Listen, Arik. You’re a nice guy and all, and I’m glad we worked things out, but I really don’t think we should be going to dinner.”

“How remiss of me. Of course not.”

“So you understand.”

“Perfectly. After a long day of work, you’re probably tired and want to just relax in something comfortable on your couch.”

“Exactly.” She appeared so relieved, which was what made his next words so enjoyable.

“Fabulous idea. We’ll order in instead.” He used the tip of a finger to lift her hanging jaw. “Any preference? Chinese? Indian? Italian?”

“I think you misunderstand.”

He leaned in, totally and intentionally invading her space, close enough to hear the rapid flutter of her pulse and to see her eyes dilate as she stared at him. As for her scent? He could have drooled as anxiety, and anticipation, heightened the aroma of her musky arousal. “I understand that you are trying to avoid me. Problem is, I won’t let that happen. We are going to eat together. The question is, will we do it in the privacy of your apartment, just the two of us, alone with a bed nearby? Or will you be a frightened mouse and insist on somewhere public?”

She sucked in a breath. “I am not scared of you.”

“So we’re dining in?”

“No. If I have to eat with you, then we’re going to a restaurant.”

“Very well. Name one.”

He should have known by the smirk that crossed her lips that she would get him back for his ambush, and she did.

“LongHorn.”

His steak house competition.

Exactly how did Kira end up sitting across from Arik in a booth with a menu in hand?

This was the exact opposite of what should have happened. She’d had it all planned. She’d leave early. Her uncle would tell Arik, if he showed up, that she was sick. The big guy would forget about her, and she’d go on with her new life.

Except, he’d suspected she’d do something devious and lain in wait for her.

She didn’t know whether to be flattered or call the cops. She also couldn’t help but be impressed he’d gauged her so well. Many of the guys she’d dated, or who’d shown an interest over the years, never truly got to understand her. They assumed she was just like all the other girls.

Wrong. Kira was special. And not in the ‘she needed medication to stop hearing the voices’ kind of way. She was unique, she did things her own way—even if sometimes her own way meant taking a coward’s way out. Then again, Gregory had taught her well. Which led her mind back to thinking about Arik.

Persistent big guy who was alluring, like a chocolate-dipped cone. She just wanted to nibble and lick.

Ardent interest was all well and good, but what if he turned out to be another psycho just like her ex?

The fact that she’d gotten Arik to agree to take her to a competing restaurant spoke volumes. Despite his evident dislike at the way she’d maneuvered him, he’d taken it with good grace.

And now would make her pay. Such a devious and handsome devil.

He asked for and received a booth in the farthest corner where the lighting was dim, a romantic ambiance for lovers.

But we’re not lovers.

Yet. Because, truthfully, the man seriously attracted her.

She could have slapped herself. No.
Bad Kira.
She wasn’t at a point in her life where she needed any kind of commitment.

Getting a little ahead of yourself, are we?
The chiding of her own inner voice reined her in. After all, he’d flirted, but who said he was looking for a relationship? It could be he just wanted a little naked companionship. Although why he’d choose her, she couldn’t fathom.

Kira had no illusions when it came to her image. She was cute, on that she would agree. However, she was about thirty pounds too heavy to be considered perfectly shaped, and her hips were a touch wide when considered against her bust. She had birthing hips, or so her one aunt said.

That wasn’t exactly something Kira considered a compliment or a positive attribute for her dating resume. She did have nice hair, though, and pretty eyes. “A nice-looking girl,” as her uncle liked to say. Which, translated, meant she wasn’t the type of woman that guys, especially billionaire tycoon types like Arik, chased after.

Unless he liked the challenge.

Could perhaps her refusal to give him the time of day be that which drew him?

“You look way too serious for someone trying to choose an appetizer,” he murmured.

The soft purr of his voice should come with a warning label much like they showed on TV.
Please note that the hunk sitting across from you may cause heart palpitations, clammy hands, wet panties, and a hunger for things not meant to be eaten in public.

She steeled herself before she peeked up and caught his gaze over the edge of her menu. “Just debating on whether I want a salad to start or some stuffed mushrooms.”

“Or you could just nibble on me,” he said with a wink.

“Arik!” His bold words shocked and did nothing to stem the arousal she already fought. Heat flushed her, and she could only imagine the color of her cheeks. It wasn’t hard to feign embarrassment and bury her face in the menu again.

“Oh, come now, mouse. Don’t act so outraged.”

“You just propositioned me.”

“No, I was just being honest about what we’re both thinking.”

He guessed. No way could he know she desired him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He made a noise. “I don’t know why you feel a need to pretend.”

“Pretend what?”

“That we’re not attracted to each other.”

“I don’t know where you got that idea. You’re an interesting guy, sure, but that’s it.”

“Liar.” And he proved it by grabbing her hand and stroking his thumb over the skin. She couldn’t hide a tremble at the contact. “I touch you, and you shiver.”

She really needed to shave that expressive and sexy eyebrow of his. Maybe then she wouldn’t get an urge to fan herself.

“Could be repugnance.”

He let out a short laugh. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

Since denial wasn’t getting her anywhere, she changed her tactics. “Fine. So you’re attractive. I still don’t think we should take things any further. We are obviously from two different worlds.”

“Yes.” He didn’t even try to deny it.

What a letdown. She’d expected more argument.
Which says what about me exactly?
“So why do this? Why are you so determined to wine, dine, and screw me?” She deliberately made it sound crude, anything to break the spell between them.

“Screw? I have more finesse than that, I assure you, mouse. When we do come together, I promise it will be an event of sensual delight.”

“Let’s say I let that happen. That we have sex, then what? I’ve already told you I don’t want to date. I can’t.” Not until she could be sure the mistakes of her past wouldn’t return to bug her.

“Can’t?” It figured he’d hone in on the one word. “Are you seeing someone?” Funny how he bit the query out, as if angry, and his eyes flashed amber in the dim light.

Almost catlike.
Totally crazy. It was probably some weird trick of the light, just like people sometimes got red devil eyes in pictures.

“No, I’m not seeing someone. Not anymore. But let’s just say my last relationship terminated in a rather ugly fashion.” Understatement of the century. “Given what he put me through, I need a break from the whole dating thing.”

“Then we won’t date. I, too, am not at a point in my life where I’m looking for a forever after. However, I wouldn’t mind a companion for passionate get-togethers.”

It took her a moment, and she might have blinked a few times before she said, “Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy?

He made a moue of distaste. “I think the correct term is my mistress.”

Kira couldn’t help it. She giggled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, a frown drawing his brows together.

“This whole conversation. You do realize this is totally abnormal, right?”

“On the contrary, I think it is refreshing in this day and age that a man and woman who find themselves attracted to each other can have a civilized discussion about engaging in a sexual partnership that doesn’t involve any emotional attachments or long-term commitments.”

Said with utter seriousness. A mistress. Negligee wearing, sultry-voiced hussy who greets her tailored-suit lover. Passionate wild times, followed by jewelry and a quick escape by him.

The mental image proved too much. She laughed harder.

And, apparently, he didn’t like it.

“Stop laughing,” he ordered, his stern voice just as sexy as his flirty one.

“Is this where I start calling you sir? Or master?” She chortled and, to her mortification, snorted, which in turn led to even more mirth.

Practically weeping she was laughing so hard, she didn’t immediately note his action until he slid onto the booth seat beside her. She turned to glance at him, and he took advantage, cupping her chin in his hand. He silenced her with a kiss.

Suddenly nothing was funny, but everything was on fire.

The hand gripping her chin slid until it cupped the side of her face, cradling her in the palm of his large hand. Her lips parted at the insistent coaxing of his. Apparently he wanted a taste because his tongue trailed the length of her lips, tracing them, before dipping to dance with hers.

She kept her hands clasped in her lap, fingers digging in tightly. She feared letting them loose. Knew they would hone in on his body and stroke the hard planes she could glimpse under his dress shirt. Make a mockery of her continued insistence they shouldn’t get together.

He, however, had no such fear. While one hand stroked the skin of her cheek, the other palmed the space just below her ribcage. He’d wrapped his arm around her, her slightly plump frame no issue, not given where his hand rested, and inched upward.

The fabric separating them did nothing to impede the breath-catching anticipation of his hand reaching to cup an aching breast. His mouth sucked her little sound of pleasure. She squirmed on her seat, thighs pressed tight together. But it did nothing to relieve the building, aching pressure between her legs.

But do you know what did act as a bucket of cold water?

Getting caught.