Beastly Desires (3 page)

If he hadn’t been unequivocally sure she was feline before, the way she moved was an unmistakable indication. Although her steps were hurried, she had a willowy sway that spoke of the animal that prowled just beneath the surface of her skin. At his beast’s urge, he took a step forward. Her head swung around and she pinned him where he stood with a stare that said one thing—
Don’t. Fucking. Think. It.

Kaisal’s lips curved and her own curled. That made him chuckle. Mean. He
liked
mean. With a smirk, he gazed after her as she headed for the convenience store, stopping in front of the doors the moment she realized it was closed for the night.

“Fuck…”

The low, throaty tone of her voice reached out and seemed to give his beast a rub just between the ears. His heart started a staccato rhythm as she turned on the heels of her boots and stood staring at her SUV, hands tugging at her hair in obvious frustration.

He leaned on the grill of his Yukon and focused on her. “Need help with something, sweetheart?”

Her glare leveled him. “No.” Short, to the point, and without a bit of emotion. She started back to her vehicle, standing outside with her hands pressed against the hood, the wheels clearly turning in her mind. Kaisal could’ve seen the tension in her lithe form from a mile off.

“Are you sure about that?” He took another step in her direction.

“I said no.” She rose to her full height as he got closer. “Turn around.”

“Are you having car trouble? Because I can always…” His question ended mid-sentence the moment he found himself staring down the barrel of a forty-five.

“I asked you to turn around.” Once again, no emotion, not even in her gaze. However, aggression rolled off her in waves, but he couldn’t grasp why. At least not until he followed the line of her stare and saw what was most assuredly a cub tucked into a booster seat in the back of the car, head leaned over, mouth open and eyes closed as he slept on, completely oblivious to his mother’s barely leashed hold on her temper.

“Walk away.”

Kaisal looked back to her, saw the subtle trembling of her hand, the way her chest rose and fell in minute breaths, noticed the scent of fear masked by irritation that spiked in the air when, instead of walking away, he stepped just that much closer.

“You’re frustrated and tired,” he stated, keeping his tone soft. “Let’s be rational. I don’t want to hurt you or your son. I just want to help because you’re obviously stranded.” And running. He knew a runner when he saw one, and from the smell of gun oil that was all over her and wafting from the SUV, Kaisal would bet his last that she had several more weapons and whatever else she needed to get away from whomever it was she was attempting to escape.

The key to understanding survival was that no one pulled a weapon unless they felt they had reason to. She didn’t see him as a threat because he was male or large—she saw him as a threat because he was a stranger, and any wrong movement she made could undo whatever ground she’d gained.

“You can help me by ambling right back to Mr. Rabbit, Pooh Bear, and Piglet.”

He tucked in his lips to keep from laughing. The expression on her face was purely serious, and he had no interest in being shot because he allowed his amusement to show.

Nodding very slowly, he replied, “Okay. Rationality isn’t an interest of yours. I understand.” Then, using the years of military training he’d accumulated, Kaisal moved quicker than she could anticipate, gripped her wrist in a firm yet gentle grasp, and pressed his fingers into the nerves that would release her tense muscles, causing her hold on the gun to go lax. The moment her digits uncurled, he had the weapon out of her hand and into his own before he dismantled it, leaving the ammunition in one of his large palms and the handle in the other.

When he was done, he held it out, handle first, and looked up just to see a revolver millimeters away from his left eye. Kaisal smiled despite himself. “You know, sweetheart, I’m really starting to like you.”

***

The incorrigible bastard almost made her smile…
almost.
But there was something Kamali had learned in the last few years of her life—she rarely had anything to smile about unless it revolved around Callum and watching him grow. That didn’t change because some
extremely
broad-shouldered tiger with the most captivating blue eyes she’d ever witnessed decided he was interested in rubbing up against her.

In another time and another place with a lot less sordid emotional damage, she might’ve let him. She could do a lot worse than the feline who towered over her by a good six or seven inches—which wasn’t easy considering she stood at six feet. His thick hair was a mixture of browns, white, auburn, and black, falling just to his shoulders and curling on the ends. His mouth was full, his cheeks leanly cut, and his nose slightly broad, giving the impression that you could see his tiger’s face in his bone structure.

When she’d stepped outside into the unfamiliar cold of Colorado, his smell had struck her before the frigid air. It was woodsy and clean, enveloping her in a warmth she wasn’t accustomed to. The lioness in her wanted to stroke him just beneath his chin with her muzzle, wanted to roll around in that scent and then sleep belly up while he petted her chest. It was disturbing. Completely and totally
disturbing.

With a mocking smile, he took another step forward, stooping to align his eye with the barrel of her revolver as if trying to peek inside. “If you pull the trigger is a flag going to pop out that says
bang?
And will it be more of a suggestion than a joke?”

The rumbling inflection of his voice grazed over her skin, leaving her almost breathless and even more agitated than before. She didn’t have time for this shit and yet, here she was, being harassed by Shere Khan
.
Becoming aware that he was, by no means, concerned about getting his head blown off, she lowered the gun and put it back in its resting place behind the waistband of her jeans.

“Do you really want to help me?” Kamali asked, exasperated.

His brows arched over those goddamn eyes that were so pale they were almost invisible save for the silver flecks. When he moved they reflected the minimal light surrounding them, giving way to the animal he kept caged. “I thought we were clear on that.”

With a sigh, she nodded to the gas pump, not sure why she was even having this conversation. Or why she suddenly felt something that she hadn’t in the last few weeks—
safe.
Kamali felt
safe.
He could’ve done so many things. The predator inside understood the unleashed strength he carried; felt it the second he managed to disarm her. He wore his military past, and it made her shudder to think what she would’ve had to do had he been a random asshole. Yet she sensed no malice…just true interest. An interest that would never go any farther than these few quiet minutes. Callum was her concern. He was
always
her concern.

“I have nothing but cash and—”

“—the store is closed,” he finished. “Out of gas?”

“Just about.” Kamali shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly uncomfortable with the way he gazed at her. “Listen, it’s not your problem. I can handle…what’re you doing?”

She watched him casually stroll around to the driver’s side door and pop it open before he started digging around.

“Now where’s that...? Ah...got it.”

Her tank cover released and then he was there, unscrewing it.

“Is there a metal plate in your head? I told you I could handle it.”

He simply gave her that same slow, sweet grin. “Why are you so cranky? Someone declaw you?”

Insane. He had to be fucking insane. What nutter, shifter or no, would make casual conversation with the person who’d just finished putting a gun to their head?

Kamali folded her arms across her chest as he swiped his card and pumped gas into her tank. “You were the cub that used to like to
purposely
run around with the feed bowl on his head, weren’t you?”

His chuckle was as rich as molasses. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart. I have a younger brother, and while I very much so encouraged the act, I never participated. Watching him charge into walls was always entertaining.”

Jesus Christ who was this guy? And why was he so goddamn...nice? Kamali wasn’t used to nice. Perhaps it was the fact her pride was full of superficiality and bullshit shows of strength, or that she’d been raised by a man who couldn’t seem to understand the concept of basic kindness. Maybe she was simply jaded, but there was something about Vitaly that made her hackles rise. What made her anxious was the fact he didn’t make her anxious.

“I sense a disturbance in the Force,” he commented. “Never learned to depend on the kindness of strangers?”

“What I’ve learned is that everyone has a motive,” Kamali retorted, watching him closely. “What’s yours?”

He shrugged. “Your scent.”

Her brows lowered. “What?”

“You smell like one of the desserts my mother used to make for me as a cub, before she taught me how to do it on my own.” His grin made her pulse thump unevenly. “I was led around by my nose the majority of the time, and it seems that hasn’t changed much.”

Finishing up, he re-screwed the cap to her gas tank. “Should be full.” Then he nodded at her and started to walk away.

“Wait.” She spoke before she could stop herself.

The tiger pulled up short and gave her a questioning glance over one shoulder.

Kamali reached for her wallet. “At least let me give you—”

He placed a hand on top of her own to stop her. “The kindness of strangers.” He started toward his truck once more.

Say something. Stop him.
The nudge came from her beast. Why, she didn’t know; didn’t
want to
know. “So that’s it?” she called. “You tell me I smell good then amble off?”

Head cocking, he asked, “You asking me to stick around?”

“I’m asking you why you would do this for a woman who just put a gun to your head and all but threatened to blow you away. I’m asking what it is that made you stop. I’m asking why you helped me.”

“Because I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re terrified of your past catching up to you.” He waved a hand toward her SUV then pointed up the road. “There’s a hotel about three miles off. Should you need someplace to stay, you tell them Kaisal Verochka sent you and if they want to confirm it, you tell them to call the Monahan pack house.” Running a hand through his hair, he looked as though he were debating something with himself before he spoke again. “I don’t know what you’re running from—”

“I’m not—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me.” The tiger exhaled. “I can’t make you want my help, and I can’t make myself understand why I’m offering it, but I know when someone’s hiding. All signs point to that very thing. You look exhausted, you have no cards, and you’re armed like a member of the NFA coalition. I get the distinct impression that if I become pushy, ask too many questions, I’ll find myself in a shallow hole bleeding out tonight, so I’m simply going to tell you that, should whatever is pursuing you find you…call me.” Taking something out of his pocket, he tossed it in her direction. She didn’t realize it was a phone until she caught it. “I don’t care how illogical it is. I don’t care how late or early it may be. You. Call.”

Kamali stared down at the phone, mind racing a mile a minute. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, sweetheart.” He made his way to his truck but she could still hear that low, gravelly voice when he said, “And I’m afraid to try.”

Then he was gone, leaving her to stare down at that phone for the longest time. It wasn’t until she could no longer scent him that the illusion of comfort faded, leaving a confusing emptiness in its wake.