Cat Scratch Fever
Authors: Sophie Mouette
This book is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practice safe sex.
This book is made available in electronic form by permission of VirginBooks by RoverBooks.
www.RoverBooks.com
First published in 2006 by
Black Lace
Thames Wharf Studios
Rainville Road
London W6 9HA
Copyright © Sophie Mouette 2006
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN 10: 0-7952-9952-4
ISBN 13: 978-0-7952-9952-0
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author and publisher specifically disclaim any responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, which is incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly, of the use and application of any of the contents of this book.
For Jeff, Ken, and Random,
who know how to make me purr.
Felicia DuBois was at a critical moment when her cell phone started ringing – the critical moment when Bob (or was it Rob?) had finally extricated her from her skirt and silk knit T-shirt and tossed her, clad only in a blue satin bra and Brazilian-cut panties, on to the flowered hotel comforter.
She sent a mental message to her phone –
Go away
– and tried to keep her focus on the tall blond man exploring her body for the first time.
‘You’re not answering that, are you?’ It might have been a question, but the way his big hand stroked at the damp satin crotch of her panties as he said it made it purely rhetorical. In response, she growled under her breath and raised her hips to encourage his touch.
Bob-or-Rob grinned smugly. ‘So wet already. What a bad girl.’ His fingers circled slowly, not moving under the thin fabric of the panties, teasing her engorged clit.
Desperate was more like it, but Felicia wasn’t about to say that. Desperate not just for sex, although it had been far too long, but also for the momentary oblivion it offered, the distraction from work-related worries. Like the cell phone relentlessly ringing on the hotel nightstand. It had gone to voicemail once, but the caller, apparently as desperate to reach her as she was to avoid being reached, must have hit redial right away.
Yes, she was desperate all right, desperate enough that, when a broad-shouldered stranger with a Texas drawl had hit on her at Brennan’s, she’d said yes. He hadn’t talked to her much before making an offer; she figured he’d gotten as far as long legs, green eyes and wavy brown hair and decided that was enough. He hadn’t even asked what she did for a living – and that complete lack of interest in her real life, in anything beyond a quick fuck, seemed to offer the temporary oblivion she craved in a more interesting way than overpriced Sauvignon Blanc would.
If only he (Bob – she was pretty sure the name was Bob, not Rob, but, to be on the safe side, she mumbled and ended up with ‘Ob’ when she felt the need to moan a name) would stop toying with her and get down to business.
‘Lick me,’ she begged, spreading her legs wider, raising one leg to allow him better access.
‘Relax!’ he said playfully, continuing to stroke her through her panties. ‘We’ve got all night.’
Actually, they didn’t. She had a hot date with an event press release and a grant proposal, because heaven forbid a day at the office should actually give her enough uninterrupted time to write anything.
But he didn’t need to know that. Not now, not when the phone had finally stopped ringing and the movement of his fingers was driving her crazy.
He pushed aside the thin strip of fabric that covered her smoothly waxed sex. The touch of the air alone made her arch her back and mewl. That was a good thing, because for a second the air was the only thing that was touching her. She writhed on the bed, heard herself making incoherent pleading noises.
‘Don’t worry, honey – I’ll take good care of you.’
‘Then do it,’ she hissed. A part of Felicia’s brain that was still functional and detached realised that normally his smugness would have turned her off. Then again, she supposed that, if she hadn’t been close to losing her mind, she wouldn’t have picked up a smug stranger at Brennan’s. She usually preferred playing with friends.
Alas, she was just clean out of fuck-buddies at the moment.
There were some interesting prospects amongst her co-workers at the Southern California Cat Sanctuary, but the fact that they also worked there meant they were as stressed as she was, and not everyone would consider wild no-strings-attached sex with a co-worker to be a good stress-management tactic.
No. No thinking about work. Must get back into the moment. Back to a place where all rational thought disappeared and there was nothing left but a throbbing sex, sensitive nipples, the spiral towards orgasm. She took his hand, guided it where she needed it to go.
The phone rang again.
She cursed and then said, ‘Could you hand me that damn thing? I’m going to shut it off like I should have in the first place.’
When he did, though, she saw the number: the security office at SCCS.
‘Shit!’ She scrambled upright. ‘I’ve got to take this.’
* * *
Felicia ran towards the ocelot enclosure, her high heels clicking on the pavement. After a warm day, the temperature had dropped abruptly. The cool desert night air felt good on her heated skin, but not so good on her sopping panties.
She’d expected Alan, the night security guy, to be there waiting to show her the damaged lock that had allowed several of the adventurous little cats to escape. She hadn’t expected to see José Martinez, the zoo’s vet – or the small, spotted form stretched out on the grass.
‘No!’ She stopped so abruptly she almost tottered over, not daring to move closer to what might be a dead or gravely injured animal.
‘It’s all right, Felicia.’ José stood up, and stepped towards her. He reached out his hand as if to touch her reassuringly, then noticed the blood on his gloves and pulled back. ‘Magnolia just has a cut paw, nothing serious. I’ll be taking her inside to stitch her up in a minute.’
‘But she’s so still.’ Seeing the usually alert Magnolia motionless, yet with her eyes open, made Felicia queasy.
‘I had to trank her. She was panicking and wasn’t going to let me near her otherwise.’
José’s deep, gentle voice had a hypnotic effect on her, much the same as it would have on a nervous animal. As he spoke, she could feel some of the adrenalin draining from her body.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was easy to look at: a dark-skinned, broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair and soft brown eyes. He was definitely older, but not old enough to be her father – maybe her naughty young uncle, the one she would have had a crush on when she was a girl. The uncle who wasn’t really a blood uncle, so she could act on the attraction.
What
was
she thinking?
It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed her colleague was handsome. Looking at him had allowed her to while away many a boring staff meeting, back when SCCS still had boring staff meetings instead of ones that were heart pounding in a ‘Will we be able to stay open another month?’ way. But what was racing through her mind now was several steps beyond her previous idle fancies. This was not the time to start speculating about what José was like in bed.
Even though her underwear needed to be wrung out after her earlier adventure and she was so on edge she’d consider jumping him – or just about any other attractive male – on the spot.
Breathe deeply and concentrate. ‘Did any of the other ocelots get out?’
‘Captain did,’ Alan chimed in. Thank goodness for his solid, middle-aged presence, and his homely face and slightly crossed eyes, which she made herself focus on. ‘He was up a tree. I thought we were going to have to call Mel.’
‘But you know Captain,’ José added. ‘A little bit of meat and a little wheedling and he’ll go to anyone.’
Captain had been an illegal pet, rescued and brought to the sanctuary, and he still wanted to crawl into people’s laps. Captain was one of her best fundraising tools.
José turned back to check on the cat. ‘Magnolia’s completely out now,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll go take care of her.’ He scooped the limp ocelot up in his arms, cradling her gently, and headed off to the medical centre.
Felicia felt an unworthy flash of envy for the creature about to receive close, loving attention from José. Even stitches might have something to recommend them if José was doing the stitching. OK, she’d draw the line at actual stitches, but playing doctor with José would be fun. She imagined herself spread-eagled on the big steel table in the medical centre while he ‘examined’ her in loving detail.
The image went straight to her clit, jolting her with a force that made her rock her hips forwards.
This needed to stop. She had work to do. Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, she asked Alan, ‘So, what happened?’
Alan glanced away briefly, watching José fading into the darkness, then looked back at Felicia. ‘I did my usual rounds after closing time to make sure all the visitors were gone. Everything was fine. All the enclosures were locked up and no one was on site except Mel and one of her volunteers finishing up the evening feeding. I walked with them on the last bit of that and locked the main gate behind them.’
‘About what time was that?’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t notice. It was twilight, so maybe seven.’
About the time she was starting to chat up Rob/Bob.
‘Then I took a look at the Pallas’ cat kittens. They were just waking up for the night and I must have lost track of time watching them. They’re so cute, like an alien tried to re-create a house cat and didn’t get it quite right.’ Alan looked away, as if embarrassed to be caught in his fascination with the nocturnal Central Asian cats.
Despite her worry, Felicia smiled at that. Alan, a retired cop from a neighbouring town, had taken the job to supplement his retirement pay, but obviously cared for the animals now as much as any of them did.
‘The next time I passed the ocelot enclosure again it was around eight-thirty. That was when I saw it was open.’
‘Did you actually see Mel lock it after feeding? The ocelots are smart enough to push the door open if it was just closed over.’
Alan closed his eyes as if trying to reconstruct the earlier scene. After an interval that seemed longer than it actually was, he opened them again and shook his head. ‘I didn’t see her, but we’re talking about Mel. She’s always a hundred per cent where the cats are concerned. Even if security has had to let her into her own office more often than the rest of the staff put together.’
Felicia nodded slowly. She’d thought that herself, but Mel was a close friend and it was good to have confirmation from someone more neutral.
‘I didn’t want to bother you at first,’ he added. ‘But obviously I had to get José. He said I’d better contact you or the director, and the director…’ He didn’t finish his sentence, but Felicia could fill in:
The director needs the stress right now even less than you do.
The Sanctuary was Katherine’s baby. The rest of them risked losing their jobs if it closed down; Katherine would lose her purpose in life. ‘And then, when we were waiting for you, I noticed this.’ He beckoned her closer and shined his flashlight on the lock.
It was badly scratched around the keyhole.
It took Felicia a few seconds to take it in. Her brain was still swimming, sex and stress hormones and the long-ago glass of wine she’d had at Brennan’s conspiring together to make clear thought difficult. ‘You think someone picked it?’ she finally asked.
Alan nodded. ‘It sure looks that way. The main gate was locked – José had to unlock it because he’d gone out to grab dinner – but that could have been someone covering tracks.’
At the idea of a police investigation and the inevitable publicity, Felicia’s head cleared abruptly. ‘Don’t call the police,’ she ordered.
‘But…’ Then Alan’s eyes narrowed with understanding. ‘It’s the fundraiser, right? You don’t want a ruckus this close to the fundraiser.’
‘I want to talk to Katherine and the board chair before getting the police involved. Bad publicity would kill us right now. And this may be nothing. Maybe Mel thought the volunteer locked up and the volunteer thought she had. The scratches could just be from years of opening and closing the cage in the dark.’
‘Could be.’ Alan didn’t sound convinced.
Felicia wasn’t either. Even without the police background that made Alan notice the forced lock, she could smell something fishy. But the local media had already been having a field day over the Zoological Association investigating their financial problems. She didn’t want to throw any more fuel on the fire.
‘The Zoological Association! Shit!’ she exclaimed and darted off towards the medical building, as Alan stared after her in bewilderment.
Despite her precipitous dash over, she entered the building quietly, not wanting to disturb José at a delicate moment. He didn’t even look up as she entered, intent on his small patient. Stretched out to her full length on a table big enough to accommodate a tiger, absolutely limp, but with her eyes open and staring at nothing, Magnolia looked like road kill.
The surge of protective anger that went through Felicia astonished her. She might not be able to call the police right now, but she was going to get to the bottom of what happened. If it were deliberate vandalism…Oh, payback would be sweet.
Finally, José finished with the ocelot, looked up and acknowledged her presence. ‘Open the cage door please,’ he asked. Felicia complied and held it as he settled the sedated cat comfortably on a pile of towels.
‘She’ll be fine,’ he said as he stripped off his gloves and washed his hands. ‘She only needed a few stitches. I’ll just keep her here a day or two so she stays off the paw.’
‘I knew she was in good hands, José.’ Very good hands indeed. She found herself studying them as he washed them, wondering what those deft dark fingers could do to her.
The vet stifled a yawn. ‘I’ll do my reports in the morning. It’s not that late, but I’m exhausted.’
‘Could you hold off on the reports a while longer?’
He turned to stare at her. At first, he looked uncomprehending. Then he chuckled softly. ‘You mean “lose” the copy that’s supposed to go to the Zoological Association? I’d love to. I still don’t understand where they’re getting off, sending someone to check up on us. They say themselves that our animal care is first rate; who cares if the buildings are shabby?’
‘If they want us to repair the facilities so badly, they should give us the fucking money. Nice shiny buildings won’t do much good if we have to shut down.’ And to her horror, Felicia felt tears coming to her eyes.
God, she really was overtired. There was no way she was going to do any work at home tonight. A hot bath and bed.
When he put his hand on her shoulder, though, she had to steel herself to keep her face impassive. The touch, merely friendly as it was, resonated right through her.
‘It’ll be OK,’ he said in his soothing voice. ‘You’ve got a great committee for the fundraiser. We’re all behind you.’
