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Authors: Jennifer James,Michelle Fox

A Cougar's Claim (Charmed in Vegas Book 7) (8 page)

BOOK: A Cougar's Claim (Charmed in Vegas Book 7)
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When she got out of here and got showered, she’d call Quentin the hot fire man and ask him out on a date. A date with a human. And they’d do human things and there wouldn’t be any chance of some chick showing up who “smelled like destiny.” Gosh, that sounded nice. Great even.

Quentin had pretended he didn’t know her from her show, but she’d seen the way his ears turned red and his pupils dilated when she mentioned her stage name. He’d totally seen her dance.

He was super cute too. And a hero. Hell, she could burn a fire in the fire place and not have to worry that her date would spazz over the flames. Shifters sometimes had weird quirks like that. Oh! And she could even leave raw meat in the fridge and not come home to find her guy sitting at the table with a steak hanging off his lower lip and blood dripping all over his shirt.

Human guys were looking better and better.

Except...when Kit had gone on about hunting her and dragging her off to tie her up for sex until she realized they were mates...oh man, that sounded way too good to a woman who’d sworn off shifters. The temptation to give herself a day or a week or a month as his captive was right there, all up in her face and trying to get her to change her mind. Like his abs and those freakin’ biceps....

“I’m such a stupid ass nympho idiot,” she muttered.

But she meant what she’d said to him. They weren’t mates. It wasn’t possible. Because soul mates didn’t leave one another.

“Hey, any idea how long we’re going to be in here?” She queried the woman next to her, a petite brunette with pink and purple streaks in her hair and a dress with a shredded hem. Diagonal slashes went from the underside of her left breast to her hip.

Rhiannon didn’t know if the torn cloth represented a fashion choice or the remnants of a fight with another woman armed with fabric shears. Or big ass claws.

“Depends. Could be a few hours, could be all night. If the cops are really busy it takes longer. Also depends if they’re feeling like being dicks to you,” the brunette pursed her lips and slouched. Long, lean legs crossed at the ankle. Her battered black combat boots had a thin sliver wire wrapped into the laces. “This your first time here?”

“Yeah.” Rhiannon straightened, pride surging in her veins. Hell yeah, she’d put a shifter on his ass. Booyah baby. “Nice boots.”

“Thanks.” The woman held out her henna tattooed right hand. “Lilith Veracruz.”

“Rhiannon Delamatre. Nice to meet you.” A tiny spark of static electricity jumped from Lilith’s palm to hers. “Uh—”

Lilith leaned in close, and squeezed her fingers once, not enough to hurt, but to warn. “So, I’ve seen you dance. At The Howler. Really sexy. You still dating that shifter?”

“No. God I’m so done with shifters. They eat everything and they drop you the second they smell someone who they think is their destined mate.” Rhiannon extricated her hand and tucked her fingers under her arm. “Even if they’re naked in bed with you, in the middle of...”

A blush burned her cheeks. Wow, had she really been about to spill that? She scooted a few inches away from maybe-not-a-human-Lilith and eyeballed her.

“Any idea where Jase is?” Lilith traced her index finger over Rhiannon’s wrist.

She jerked away and moved to stand. Lilith grabbed her forearm and Rhiannon found she couldn’t move away. Something kept her trapped on the bench.

Magic. Had to be.

“No, I don’t know where Jase is. I was looking for him this morning. It’s how I ended up in here. Sorta.” Rhiannon licked her left forearm, and got a mouthful of salt. A humming white noise she hadn’t noticed before cleared from her consciousness. She grimaced and yanked on her arm again. This time it came free. Not a human woman sitting next to her. Fuck a hairy duck. “You’re pretty damn powerful, seeing as I’m covered head to toe in salt.”

Lilith shrugged, unabashed. “A woman uses the tools she has. You really have no idea where Jase is?”

“No, I don’t.” She stood and paced a few steps away. “Don’t even think about touching me again. You could have just asked me if I knew where he was.”

“How did I know you’d tell me the truth?” Lilith drew her legs in and balanced her elbows on her knees.

“Why do you want him? If you know who I am, I’m betting you know why I do.” Rhiannon scratched under her waistband, bits of salt getting crammed under her fingernails.

Lilith lit a cigarette, her huge, white blue irises ghostly and creepy in her heart shaped face. “Jase has a price on his head. I’m hoping to collect.”

“How do you have a cigarette in here?”

Lilith licked her lower lip. “You sure you want to know?”

No, nope, nopity nope nope. She didn’t.

Dread crept up her spine. “Shit.” She paced a small circle, palms pressed over her eyes. Fucking mob boss asshole Mancini. “I don’t stand a chance. He’s got me right where he wants me.”

There had to be a way to get out of this mess without borrowing money from Inila to pay Mancini off. No smart person made a financial deal with a dragon, even if the dragon claimed to be their friend. Dragons loved money more than anything in the world. They didn’t make fair deals. They made deals that increased their fortune, and if that meant you and your entire family lineage ended up indentured to them for the dragon’s entire lifespan, the dragon was happier for it.

She couldn’t find fault with Inila. Dragons were the way they were. In every other aspect, Inila was the perfect friend.

“Mancini? He had you by the bra straps from day one, sweetie.” Disgust and judgment dripped off the statement. Lilith took a drag of her cigarette. “I sure hope you didn’t spend the money on something stupid like dance costumes or helping your boyfriend start a business.”

“It’s none of your damn business what I needed the money for.” Rhiannon’s stomach churned and she blinked back tears. Memories of bleeping machines and hollow, sunken cheeks in a once beautiful face crept up, but she forced them back. “I had enough to pay him off, plus interest. Jase was supposed to make the delivery for me. Instead I got a call that he didn’t show up.”

Lilith dropped her smoke and stamped the burning butt out. “And you were surprised about that? Why? You gave him over a hundred thousand and really thought he’d drop it off for you?”

“I’m not stupid. I didn’t have a choice, okay?” Rhiannon swiped under her eyes. “I did the best I could at the time.”

“You know what they say about the road to Hell.” Lilith stood. “For what it’s worth, I hope you find Jase before I do. But you won’t.”

The strange, magic using woman blinked out of existence. Rhiannon gasped, spun, and studied the other prisoners in the holding cell.

No one showed any sign that they’d seen the woman she’d spoken to.

She slid down onto the bench and rested her face in her hands. “I’m so screwed.”

Chapter Seven

A
fter the hotel got through with him, his credit card could have exploded in his wallet. Fisk, the hotel manager had maxed his account out. The weasel would pay for that later. Right now he had to worry about his mate.

He considered using the clan credit card supplied to him to pay for incidentals while he was in Las Vegas, but it didn’t feel right. He’d had to request a limit increase on his daily ATM withdrawal allowance to cover Rhiannon’s bail.

Her scent reached him before he heard her voice or saw her gliding down the cement and metal hallway. The barred doors and warded glass windows kept them apart, not unlike all the circumstances and magic intruding on his life and blocking him from her.

She signed paperwork, glancing at him surreptitiously.

When she sailed through the inner doors and exited into the waiting area, she stomped past him like he didn’t exist.

Probably a fair reaction to him loitering there, but he wasn’t in the mood for the silent treatment.

Swallowing a growl, he stalked her to the sidewalk, pacing behind her close enough for his breath to tease the hair on the back of her neck.

Rhiannon refused to turn around, but he caught a whiff of arousal emanating from her. Hell yeah. He could work with that.

“Rhiannon, stop. Talk to me.”

“Leave me alone Kit.” She tried to shove her fingers through her hair, but got tangled in the salt crusted strands. “I’ll pay you back for the bail. It might take me awhile, but I’ll get you the money.”

“You’re my mate, you don’t owe me any money.”

“I’m paying you back.” She came to a stop on the sidewalk and faced him, her cheeks red and one hand on her hip. “Don’t argue with me about it. I don’t want to fight with you about it, so just let me. Okay?”

Nodding, he withheld the proposition that involved sex acts for payment. His mate might take the flirtation badly with the mood she was in. She’d had a hard day. If paying him back was that important, he had to let her.

After he had her trust, he’d make the offer to exchange sexual favors instead of money. It’d be a fun game, something he could tease and flirt with her about. A lover’s secret, just for them. A grin tugged at his lips up at the corners.

Rhiannon bumped her hip into his thigh. Heat flared from the point of contact. They’d fallen into step with each other, his longer stride shortened unconsciously to accommodate her. Another sign she was meant to be his and he hers. “What are you thinking about over there?” “You have the goofiest smile on your face and a—”

Coughing, she couldn’t hide the way her gaze flicked over to his groin and away again.

Go ahead and look all you want
.
Think about my cock inside you and how good it’s going to feel.

“Just thinking about how much fun it’ll be when you pay me back.” Brushing a heavy lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, he drifted his fingers over the soft skin of her neck, pressing in a tiny bit when he reached the purple bruise he’d made with his mouth.

She shivered. “Right. Let me guess, it all involves sex, right? Not going to happen. You had your hands and tongue and fangs all over me today and that’s the last time you’ll be anywhere near my mouth or my neck. I saw the marks you left. I have shows scheduled this week. I can’t go onstage with hickeys and bite marks all over me. One or two I can probably cover, but I can’t go onstage looking like a leopard, all covered in spots.” She rummaged in her duffle bag, growing increasingly agitated.

“I’ll make sure that any marks will be covered by your costume.” That was fine. Lots of other places he’d love to put his lips and especially his teeth and tongue.

He wanted to ask her about the money she owed to the mob boss, but since the information had come from Inila, he figured bringing it up now would only drive a larger wedge between them. Rhiannon needed to offer that information to him freely.

“Any idea on where Jase is? I don’t know where else to look for him. I’m at a dead end.” Rhiannon dropped the bag to the ground and knelt, tossing items to the sidewalk. “I still have to go to work. I need the money. You going to pay all my bills and stock my fridge? Plus, people bought tickets. Some of them are here on vacation. I can’t disappoint them.”

Kit crouched next to her. What should he say? That if she danced without their mate bond completed he might lose control of his beast and bend her over right there on the stage? That yes, he would pay her bills and feed her? That he didn’t care about tourists? She’d be even more angry with him than she was now. “What are you looking for?”

“My taser. I have another cartridge for it at home. I was hoping it’d dry out enough that I could use it again without having to buy a new one. Although...that was salt water, wasn’t it?” She groaned, rummaging around until she plucked up a located a water logged cell phone. She pressed buttons, trying to turn the device on to no avail. “Fuck my life. Why? I never get a damn break.”

A sodden purple bra bedecked with rhinestones and other sparkly shit landed on his shoe.

The spots where the electrodes had embedded in his back itched. “Why do you need a taser to begin with?”

She rolled her eyes and stared at him from under her brows. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m a burlesque dancer. A pretty damn well known one. I live alone. There are men who think that because I dance onstage in tiny outfits that I’m.... Look, do the math, okay? Crazy people, lots of alcohol and drugs, rape culture, and I’m a human woman. I need an advantage and I didn’t want something lethal like a gun.”

“Why the hell are you putting yourself in such a dangerous situation? If you’re going to keep dancing, you at least need a bodyguard.” He wanted to order her to stop dancing. To not put herself in danger of being raped or assaulted or fucking kidnapped. Possessiveness had never been a personality trait Kit felt kosher with, but this was his mate. “You can’t keep doing shows if this is the kind of danger you’re in. You’ve got to find another line of work.”

“Riiight. What planet did you just arrive from again? Because here on Earth, in Las Vegas, I’m Cat Nip, bad ass, sexy, self-supporting, burlesque dancer who despite all I’ve accomplished can’t shell out hundreds of dollars an hour for a babysitter to protect me from the crazies. A grown woman who has worked her ass off for years cultivating an audience and crafting a show I can be proud of.” She shoved items back in the bag, every movement rushed and choppy. “Who do you think pays my bills? And what else do you propose I do? Dancing filled me with joy and purpose. Being on stage...it’s where I belong.”

She stood, and he rose with her, their chests almost touching. “I have every right to be safe. If someone attacks me, that’s because of their poor choices, not mine. I refuse to go through life living in fear of what some sick bastard might try to do to me. And I sure as hell am not going to stop dancing because it bothers you.”

Pride mixed with sour worry and fear inside Kit. He was almost never afraid and the unwelcome emotion really pissed him off. “You’re impossible.”

But she had said dancing filled her with purpose. Filled. Past tense. Hmm....

“Look who’s talking.”

The cougar inside caught a whiff of weakness, of desperate anger underlying her wavering resolve. Kit looked past her anger and saw a tired, confused, bruised, and stressed out woman debating her next move. “Rhiannon.”

BOOK: A Cougar's Claim (Charmed in Vegas Book 7)
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