“Look, until we get you something else—”
With a growl, Angie advanced on him. Startled, he backed up until he hit the wall. She reached around his waist, digging into his back pockets.
Smiling, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Doing what I always do. Taking care of it myself.” She located his wallet, pulling it out and stepping away from him. “I swear. The shit I have to do just to get through the day.” She quickly found his credit card and took it out. He had one of those all-black credit cards. A redneck the man may be, but a painfully rich one. You couldn’t even order this card…you had to be invited. Nice.
She tossed his wallet back at him, making sure to hit him in the face and moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Apparently, I’m going to be walking my Brazilian-Mexican ass into whatever dinky town you have around here.”
“Dressed like that?”
She could hear the laughter in his voice and she had the overwhelming desire to punch him in the face. “Even this sheet is better than that fuckin’ dress.”
Angie got as far as the stairs before his arm slid around her waist. She shuddered at the contact. No, she never liked being touched, but this felt different and she had no idea why. She just knew it was freaking her the fuck out.
Snatching herself away from him, her feet slid on the sheet. She would have tumbled head over ass down the marble stairs, but he caught her, turning her so she slammed flush against him.
“Oh, no you don’t. Be clumsy in your own house.”
She frowned. Okay. First he said something about her non-skinny ass. Now he was saying something about her being clumsy. She was never clumsy. She was the elegant one. What the hell was it about this man that had her falling all over herself?
“Something happens to you, those dogs of yours will drive me insane with their howling. I hate that sound.” Carrying her against his side, he walked down the hall.
“Where the hell are we going?”
“My bedroom.”
She tried to pull out of his grip, but he held her easily. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He walked into his bedroom and dropped her to the floor. She stumbled back and almost had to grab him to keep herself from hitting the floor—again.
“Okay, sugar, now let’s get you something at least tolerable to wear. Can’t have you embarrassing me in front of the neighbors.”
“Where are the clothes I was wearing when those idiots brought me here?”
“Ripped and blood covered. Can’t have you walking around in that, now can I?”
Angie expected him to pull out some other woman’s clothes. Some piece of ass he had in his house before. But apparently, the old lady’s wardrobe was all he had because he pulled out a big white T-shirt. He glanced at her and then, with an adorable, wicked smile, tossed it so it landed on her head.
Angie snatched the shirt off, only for a pair of shorts to hit her full in the face.
She snatched those off as well. “What are you doing?” Angie shoved the hair out of her eyes.
“Trying to get you to loosen up. You are one uptight filly.”
“Sorry, kidnapping does that to a girl.”
“No, I’m pretty certain you were born with that stick up your ass.”
“Why you motherfuck—”
“You throw those things on, sugar. There’s a drawstring, so that should tide you over until we get you some clothes. And sorry, no shoes for now. But this is the South. Shoes are always optional.”
He walked past her. “I’ll meet you downstairs, sweet cheeks.”
His hand slapped her rump, but by the time she spun around, her fist pulled back and ready, he was already gone.
“What about these?”
Nik took a deep breath. He did that every time she shoved her size ten hooves into his lap. Especially when she’d adorned those hooves with eight-hundred-dollar Prada shoes.
Shoes that he would be paying for. Who knew a slap on the ass would cost him so much?
“They look fine.” His jaw began to hurt. All that talking through his teeth. But he couldn’t help himself. The woman had moved through his town like a demon. A demon with his credit card.
“Just fine? Is that all?”
She’d purchased new clothes. Lots of new clothes. At the moment, she wore an adorable mini-dress that cost him enough to feed a family of four full-humans for a week. Every time she lifted up her legs to show off a new pair of shoes, he caught glimpses of her white lace panties. He hated himself for his weakness. The more she showed him those panties, the more he wanted to tear them off.
It couldn’t be normal to dislike someone and want them all at the same time.
She lifted one long leg, holding her foot up right near his face. “Well, which do you like better? These or the black strappy ones?” She’d already bought three “black strappy ones”. How the hell was he supposed to tell the difference?
“I don’t care.”
“Hhhmm.” She lowered her leg. “Then I better get both. And the Ferragamos.”
He bit the inside of his mouth so he wouldn’t start cursing at her.
She slid her feet out of his lap, grazing his crotch and easily got to her feet.
“I’ll take these, too.” She motioned to Janette, the owner of the store. Janette glanced at him and he nodded. Unable to hide her grin and unwilling to stop laughing, Janette followed the evil viper across the shop.
Angelina Santiago. He finally got around to asking the evil viper’s name. Now it would be the name he would forever associate with deep, passionate annoyance. The woman had spent nearly twenty grand of his money in little under three hours. Actually, the Ferragamos put him way over the twenty grand mark.
And what amazed him was how she simply didn’t care. She spent his money like they’d been married for twenty years and she’d found out he was cheating with his secretary.
How full-humans put up with this he would never know.
“I’ll be right back.” She strutted past him toward the exit. And it was a strut. The kind of walk bands like ZZ Top wrote songs about. She didn’t move like a supermodel. She moved like a stripper.
“I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
“Well, good job!” She gave him the thumbs up and strutted her fine ass out the door.
Janette sat down next to him.
“How’s your day, Nik?”
He looked at her. She smiled, her fangs peeking out a bit. Damn leopards.
“Fine. Not as good as yours though.”
“Very true, Nik.” She patted his thigh. “Very, very true.”
“A permit?” Angie gave a little pout. “Really?”
“Sorry, darlin’. You can buy a huntin’ rifle now, though.”
She debated the salesman’s suggestion, but her shoulder still hurt from using that damn shotgun from earlier in the day. She really preferred handguns. Besides, she would still need ID and all her stuff was in Texas.
Angie shook her head. “No thanks.” She glanced around the sports and firearms store, deciding to go back to the standard weapons she once used before she became old enough to start buying guns.
Quickly grabbing what she needed, she had the lovely man charge it to Nik’s account. It seemed everyone in town knew the hillbillies. And every woman definitely seemed to know Nikolai Vorislav. Not surprising, though. Even she had to admit he was damn fine. Especially when she found ways to annoy the living shit out of him.
She took her bag of purchases and walked out the door, heading to the store she’d left Nik in. Halfway there, a sweet black leather skirt caught her eye in one of the shops.
Angie walked in and immediately a salesgirl was at her beck and call. She really liked this town. They knew how to treat people. Of course, almost everyone she’d met so far was a little less than human. But after finding out about most of the people in her own town, she really wasn’t too concerned.
Taki
ng the skirt from the clerk, Angie put her bag down in one of the chairs. She held it up against her body as she stared at herself in the mirror. Cute. And an Armani original.
“Does Nik Vorislav have an account here?”
“His family does, yes.”
“Great. Charge this to that—and anything else I find to amuse me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She giggled and wondered the best way to make sure Vorislav saw the price tag. She loved the look he got on his face when she did that.
“Enjoying Vorislav’s money, are we?”
Angie glanced over her shoulder, quickly realizing they had her surrounded. Six of them. All gold and gorgeous.
She turned slowly, her eyes straying to the bag she’d brought into the store with her. Nope. She’d never make it before they ripped her apart. And, yet…she got the feeling they didn’t want to hurt her.
“As a matter of fact, yes I am.”
One of the females laughed. “Good.”
Another one, holding a phone, looked Angie up and down. “Are you Angelina Santiago?”
No point in lying now. But Angie couldn’t help but return the once over before answering, “Yeah.”
She handed Angie the phone. “Here.”
Completely confused, Angie took it. “Hello?”
“Is this Angelina Santiago?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, hi there! This is Victoria Löwe.”
“Who?”
“Long story short—I’m a lioness looking for a truce.”
“With who?”
“With the Magnus Pack.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Well, I’ve tried to communicate with Sara Morrighan, but she refuses to talk to me or any of us.”
The other females stepped away to look at the clothes while Angie used the phone. “You think that could be because you killed her mother?” One of them picked up a hideous dress and Angie frowned. The woman caught her expression. She held it up and Angie shook her head. “No way,” she mouthed at her.
She didn’t know these people and they were the mortal enemies of her best friend, but dammit, bad fashion was bad fashion. And she couldn’t let someone go through life thinking that dress was okay.
“I didn’t do anything, Ms. Santiago. In fact, I wasn’t even born yet. But all that aside, the Withell Pride is dead and gone. I’d like us to move past this. The entire Cat Nation would like that as well.”
Cat Nation? There’s a Cat Nation?
Angie took the horrid dress from the woman’s hands and put it back on the rack. She grabbed a sexy little gold number and held it up against the woman’s body. “So what do you want from me?”
“Talk to her. Get her to speak to me.”
The dress would look great on the woman, so Angie gave her a strong nod of approval. “I don’t get into Sara’s business and she doesn’t get into mine. It’s helped us have a very long, healthy relationship.”
A tug on her arm turned Angie around to face a cute outfit on the wrong female. She grimaced. “No. No.” She took the outfit and tossed it on top of the racks.
“No, no, what?”
“Not you.” Angie dragged the female over to another rack across the floor. She found an elegant suit with the woman’s name—whatever name that may be—written on it. The female blinked in surprise, then smiled.
“Look. I can talk to Sara, but talk don’t mean shit to her. If you want a truce with Sara Morrighan, you better be prepared to show her how far you’ll go.”
“And how far is that?”
“I have no idea.” Hell, with Sara, it could be Mars.
“Look. All I want is to talk. And wouldn’t you like that too?”
“Personally, I could care less.” Another tug, she turned and gave an immediate nod of approval. At least one of them had some taste.
“What about your friend? The one about to breed? You’d like her to be safe, wouldn’t you?”
Angie froze. “Are you threatening me?” If she had to, she’d kill every cat in the Continental United States if it kept Miki and her future niece or nephew safe.
“No. But we want our kids safe, too. See what I’m saying? This could be a benefit for all of us.”
Angie pried a dress several sizes too small out of another female’s hands. “Don’t be ashamed. There’s nothing wrong with the ‘X’ in front of that ‘L’.” She gave the woman something more her size.
“I’ll try and talk to her. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Fair enough.”
Angie waved away a bad pair of sandals as she closed the phone, handing the device back to one of the females.
“Should I be concerned that you people found me here?”
The one holding the phone shook her head. “No. We weren’t looking for you. We just happened to see you walking around town. Everyone knows Victoria is trying to get a truce going. We thought we might be able to help.”
“And how did you know who I was?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “Everybody in town knows the Vorislav boys took you. Those tigers. They’re crazy.”
“Besides,” another added, “you don’t smell like you’re from around here.”
Angie let that freaky and disturbing statement pass as Nik stormed into the store. “Where the hell did you go?”
The lionesses all smiled. “Hey, Nik,” they all said as one.
Nik’s face dissolved into a delicious grin. “Well, hey, ladies. How y’all doin’?”
Angie rolled her eyes in disgust. Christ, is there any woman in this town the man hasn’t stuck his cock into?
Angie grabbed her bag from the sports store and the clerk handed her a bag holding her new skirt. She walked up to Nik, but he seemed much more interested in the lion females.
But she knew exactly how to get a man’s attention. Any man’s attention.
“Look at what I got, hillbilly.” She took off the watch she’d purchased when he’d gone to the bathroom nearly an hour before. She held it up in front of his face. “A Tag Heuer. The lovely gentlemen at the jewelry store said he’d be happy to put it on your account.” Angie backed up, dangling the shiny new watch. “Isn’t it pretty and shiny, little kitty? And expensive?”
Laughing at the expression on his face, she walked out of the store and knew, without looking, Nik would be right behind her.
He thought for sure she’d make him take her to one of the many expensive restaurants in town, to really solidify the afternoon of overindulgence, but instead she grabbed a cheeseburger, fries, and a cola from the local diner. She took her food and headed into the park. He followed, with a separate bag just for her ketchup. Seemed she couldn’t tolerate her fries without loads of ketchup.
Now, as they sat across from each other at a picnic table, Nik couldn’t help but wonder if she were always like this or if she’d simply gone off her meds.
She silently ate her burger and fries, staring out at the park. For a human, she really was mighty feline. She liked watching other people, her shrewd eyes taking in everything. And she loved to flirt. Not with him, but with everyone else. On their way to the diner, they’d passed a small group of Pride breeding males. In typical lion fashion, the males checked her out like prime rib at a steak house. She didn’t return their appraisal with any shy glances or beguiling smiles. Instead, she watched them walk past her, turning and walking backward on those four-inch heels like she was born with them on her feet. And then, she nailed them with a killer grin that stopped them all in their big lion tracks. He knew that smile. He’d used it himself. It was the smile that said, “I’ll fuck you and no one will ever be good enough for you again.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t smile at him like that. She mostly glared, smirked, or mocked. And she seemed to be a real big fan of pissing him off.
“So there’s a Cat Nation?”
“Of course there is. The dogs breed like rabbits. They kind of outnumber us. But being the
biggest cats, tigers don’t worry too much.”
She grinned around her burger. “And a humble breed, I see.”
“What can I say? Not a lot of breeds are like us. Last I weighed in, I was damn-near seven hundred pounds.”
“Too many carbs?”
“Funny.”
“I am…and I look fabulous in my new shoes.”
Again with those damn shoes. “Do you goad everybody this much?”
“Me? Goad? Of course not. I bring joy and life to all. I’m sweet, charming, have a great sense of style—and if you wanna keep that hand, you’ll get it away from my fries.”
Busted. “Come on. Little gal like you can’t pack all this away by yourself.”
She stared at him for several long moments. Then, with a shrug, she slapped his hand away when he came in for a second pass at her fries.
“Aren’t you a little worried about staying here under my protection? You don’t know me from Adam.”
She chewed on her food thoughtfully before answering. “No. I’m not worried.”
“That seems a little strange to me. I think I’d be worried.”
She took a sip of her soda. “I slammed you with my head, hit you with a toilet, and shot a hole through your door. You, however, threw me in a closet.” She shrugged. “So, no. I’m not worried.”
He unwrapped his fourth burger. “I guess ya got a point.”
“I figure if you were gonna kill me, you would have done it by now.”
“I could always sell ya to the lions.”
“Well, if they look anything like that group we passed outside the diner—sell, sell, sell away!”
He debated about whether to hit her with the burger in his hand, but his hunger overrode his impulse.
She watched him eat for a moment, then asked, “So you’re not married, are you?”
Nik choked on his burger. He hit his chest several times to dislodge the beef while she watched him quietly.
“Why do you ask,” he wheezed out.
“Just a question.”
“My kind don’t get married. We don’t settle down. We live alone. Happily.”
“So you’re not like the wolves?”
He shuddered. “No. We are not like the wolves.”