A Serengeti Christmas

A Serengeti Christmas

by Vivi Andrews

Copyright 2009, Vivi Andrews

Smashwords Edition. This is a work of
fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products
of the writer‘s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are
no construed to be real. Any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely
incidental.

All rights are reserved. This book remains
the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be
redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial
purposes.

Table of Contents

A Serengeti
Christmas

About
the Author

Other
Books by Vivi Andrews

This Christmas Eve he may not be able to tame
her, but when she’s in heat he’s the only one she wants.

Dear Reader,

Several years
ago I wrote this little Christmas vignette as a prequel to
Serengeti Storm
. Though hotter than the usual warm-and-fuzzy
holiday fare, I hope you enjoy this story about a heroine with more
than a few rough edges. May we all be lucky enough to spend the
holidays with those we love, even if we can’t admit we love
them…yet.

Happy Holidays!

Vivi Andrews

A Serengeti Christmas

Three Rocks Pride, Christmas Eve, Two Years Ago

“
Santa Baby, just slip a sable under the
tree…”

Music blared through the speakers in the
dining hall. Christmas songs should never be played at that
decibel, but by this point in the evening most of the party-goers
were so hammered on eggnog they either didn‘t notice or didn‘t
care.

Shana Delray leaned against the wall and
watched the drunken revelers stumbling around in an excess of
Christmas cheer. She twirled one red curl around her finger, bored
and not even mildly interested in joining the bacchanal in
progress. Most of the partiers had already discarded their
clothing—which wasn‘t unusual among the shape-shifters in the
pride, where nudity was as natural as fur, but it did contribute to
the general air of debauchery.

A Santa wearing a red tasseled hat and
nothing else paused at her side with a hopeful leer. “Hey there,
princess. Wanna ssssit on Sssssanta‘s lap n‘ tell me what a bad
girl you‘ve been this year?” he slurred wetly in her ear.

Shana leveled a steady, unblinking stare in
his direction and slowly raised one eyebrow. “Go shag Rudolph,
Ari.”

Even three sheets to the wind, Ari knew
better than to push his luck. “Ooookay, Shana-girl don‘t wanna
play.” He bobbed his head and lurched off in search of a more
willing piece of ass.

Shana dropped her head back against the wall
again, the tension in her shoulders refusing to relax.

A whoop from across the room called Shana‘s
attention to where her mother swayed on top of a table. She whipped
a tasseled red scarf above her head like a propeller, evidently
preparing for the latest in her ongoing series of drunken
stripteases. The once-great queen of the Three Rocks Pride reduced
to a cheap table-dancer with the assistance of Jack D., Jim B.
& Jose C.

Shana closed her eyes and tried to block out
the sounds of the room around her, focusing on the lyrics of the
song.

A yacht, a ring, a platinum mine…
I want, I
want, I want
. Shana liked the singer‘s style. A woman who knew
what she wanted and wasn‘t afraid to ask for it. Definitely her
kind of song.

Shana wanted things too. She was a writhing
mass of want.

She wanted Leonus deposed as Alpha. She
wanted to be the new Alpha‘s mate and rule the pride. She wanted
all the power she deserved.

Though at the moment, she mostly wanted to be
anywhere but here.

A familiar hum thrummed at the base of her
spine. Her skin tingled and she could practically feel the blood
rushing hot through her veins.

Her heat was coming. She‘d felt it bearing
down on her all day.

Shana knew she needed to pick a man and drag
him out of here to satisfy her before the hormones her body was
giving off sent every male in the room into a frenzy. Any man would
do. Her body didn‘t care.

Maybe she shouldn‘t have told Ari to fuck
off…

Shana opened her eyes and wet her lips.

There wasn‘t a man in the room who would say
no to her. The members of the pride with mates and cubs—the family
men—had long since abandoned the party in favor of hanging up
stockings and setting out cookies and milk. Those that remained
were the few young single men the Alpha thought were too weak to be
a threat…and the ones the big bad Alpha was secretly afraid of. The
ones like Caleb.

A tendril of heat streaked down Shana‘s spine
at just the thought of his name.

Where was Caleb, anyway? She scanned the
room, but didn‘t see those big, broad shoulders anywhere. He‘d
probably slipped out as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
Caleb had never cared much for parties, especially the raucous
kind.

Almost before the conscious decision was
made, Shana had snagged a sprig of mistletoe off a garland and
slipped outside.

The cool night air felt delicious on the
exposed skin of her arms and shoulders, kissing every overheated
inch. There was no snow on the ground—west Texas winters didn‘t
often include frosty mornings and snow ball fights—but there was a
chill in the air. The night was clear and still, like the world was
holding its breath, waiting for Christmas morning.

She remembered that feeling from when she was
a little girl—the hold-your-breath eagerness, the certainty that
something wonderful was coming, so soon she could hardly sit still
waiting for it. It felt like forever since she‘d felt that way. Was
it fifteen years? Twenty? Certainly before her father died and her
mother became the pride lush.

Now a new kind of electric anticipation
churned through her.

Shana scuffed her feet along the dirt path as
she strolled toward Caleb‘s bungalow, intentionally slowing her
steps to draw out the anticipation.

Caleb probably wouldn‘t welcome her with open
arms when she showed up on his doorstep, but that was half the
appeal—and the reason she kept coming back to him, year after year,
no matter how impossible a happily ever after between them might
be. She‘d never been able to walk all over him. If she pushed him,
he pushed back, harder and faster.

Shana realized she was rushing, practically
running up the path, and forced her feet to slow again, prowling
with the deliberate grace of a lioness instead of the foolish
eagerness of a kitten.

Behind her, a new song blared out of the
dining hall into the night.
It came upon a midnight
clear…

Shana snickered to herself and added an extra
swing to her hips. Who knew Christmas carols could be so
dirty?

She prowled up onto the porch of Caleb‘s
bungalow, struck a Marilyn pose and knocked her fist against the
door.
Come to mama, loverboy.

* * * * *

Caleb Minor answered the knock on the door to
find Shana wearing a low-cut scarlet tank-top and
leave-no-curve-unhugged jeans. Her red curls tumbled loose and wild
around her shoulders. She held mistletoe above her head and had a
wicked twinkle in her eyes. That alone was trouble on so many
levels Caleb didn‘t even know where to begin. And then the scent of
her hit his nostrils and his brain short-circuited.

Fuck, she’s in heat.

He knew he should tell her to get her rocks
off with someone else and slam the door in her pretty little face,
but his brain couldn‘t seem to transmit that message to the rest of
his body. Instead, he stood there, rooted to the spot as his body
reacted the way it always did to the scent and sight of her,
hardening from one breath to the next.

Shana propped a shoulder against the doorjamb
and batted her big green eyes at him. “Aren‘t you going to invite
me in, Cale?” she purred.

“No. What the fuck do you want?”

From the look in her eyes, he could see she
was tempted to tell him that a fuck was exactly what she wanted.
She must have known that in his current mood that would get her
thrown out on her ass, though, because instead of overt temptation,
a deceptive flicker

of vulnerability crossed her expression. “I
miss you, Caleb. It‘s Christmas Eve. Aren‘t you ever lonely on
Christmas?”

His chest tightened. How did she always know
exactly what to say to stab him right through the heart?

He‘d been thinking exactly that before she
knocked on his door—how lonely he was. How much he missed her and
the way things were between them before she became so obsessed with
deposing Leonus and claiming the position of the new Alpha‘s mate.
Christmas had turned him into a goddamn sentimental sap.

He knew better than anyone that Shana
wouldn‘t stay with him if he refused again to challenge Leonus.
She‘d be out the door so fast she‘d leave skid marks, leaving him
alone and broken again. Shana‘d made an art form out of breaking
his heart.

His fingers tightened around the wood of the
door, readying to slam it in her face.

She reached out and laid her hand over his on
the door. “Cale, I don‘t want to be alone,” she said softly. “Can I
come in? Please?”

He was an idiot. This was a new record for
stupidity, but she smelled so damn good, and it was Christmas,
after all, and, if he was honest with himself, he wanted her to
stay. He wanted to wake up with her on Christmas morning, when
everything was so hopeful and new and there was that chance, no
matter how slight, that this time she might stay.

He could let her in the bungalow. He just had
to keep her out of his heart. No falling in love this time. Just
sex. They were good at sex.

He pushed the door open wider and Shana
smiled a feline smile with just enough triumph to make him nervous.
Then she ducked under his arm and into the room, brushing against
his body as she passed.

He somehow resisted the urge to chase her
heat, to pin her between him and the nearest flat surface. Instead,
he flipped the door closed and pressed his palm against it, the
contact with the wood his only link to a reality that didn‘t
revolve around her.

This was a bad idea. He needed to remember
all the reasons he was angry with her—all the guys she‘d been with
when she should have been with him, all the times she‘d nearly
gotten him killed with her goddamn ambition.

Then she turned to him with the slow,
seductive smile he knew all too well and every other thought burned
right out of his mind. Damn, she was gorgeous. Tall and confident,
curvaceous and overtly sexual.

He was so screwed.

* * * * *

Shana took a deep breath. Caleb‘s scent
teased her and a coil of heat tightened at the base of her spine.
She wet her lips and turned to face him.

The man was eleven different kinds of sexy.
He was tall and muscled everywhere. The bulge of his biceps as he
pressed his palm against the door made her mouth water. His dark
hair was cut ruthlessly short and looked black in the low light of
the bungalow, but in his lion form, when the sunlight hit it,
teasing hints of reds and browns streaked through. The curve of his
lip, the jagged angle of his jaw, everything about him made her
want him.

But that was just the hormones talking,
wasn‘t it? It was perfectly natural for her to hunger for him like
this. The vise closing tight around her heart was just a side
effect of the need pulsing through her veins in waves. It had
nothing to do with him.

She wasn‘t here because it was Christmas Eve
and she‘d missed him like a hole in her heart. She was here because
she needed to wrap her legs around a man and scream.

She just needed to keep reminding herself of
that.

Just sex. If she kept it at just sex, Caleb
couldn‘t disappoint her again.

She tossed the mistletoe onto the bedside
table and grabbed a long curl of green ribbon off the desk. Caleb
had apparently been doing some last minute package wrapping. Shana
licked her lips. There was only one package she wanted to unwrap
tonight.

She closed the distance between them, holding
his eyes the entire time. “Have you been a good boy this year,
Caleb?”

He shrugged, dropping his hand from the door.
“Sure.”

Shana flipped the ribbon over his head. She
held the ends of the green cord so it stretched taut behind his
neck. He kept his hands loose at his sides, not reaching for her,
and she kept her distance as well, the ribbon their only point of
contact.

“Aren‘t you going to ask me if I‘ve been a
good girl?” she asked softly, leaning closer.

“You‘re never a good girl.”