Lion And The Falcon (Furry United Coalition) (10 page)

The giraffe went silent when she was done. “So you’re with Dr. Manners now?”

“Yes. When he wouldn’t take my warnings seriously, I judged it best if someone competent attended him.”

“H
e insisted on going home?”

“Yes
, despite my recommendation. Would you prefer I take him elsewhere?”

“No actually. This might work for the bes
t. Peter called after you left and said they did discover one thing missing when they packed up some stuff for Agnes. The nurses contact sheet, which she kept on her fridge, is missing.”

“Let me guess. She had all the staff’s information
on it.”

“
No addresses, but phone numbers of some key staff members, which anyone with access to the Internet can use to do a reverse four-one-one. Good news is, we’ve already called them all and warned them so none of them are at home except for—”

“One stubborn kitty.”

“Yes. But that might not be a bad thing.”

“You’re going to use him as bait?”

“If the doctor won’t budge, then yes,” Kloe said, bluntly.

“Won’t his family, more specifically his mother, who I’ve heard is a bit meddlesome, take issue with that?”

“Probably. But at the same time, if someone messes with her little boy, then the pride will get involved.”

“Get involved as in?”

“Hunt the patients down to make sure their only male lion is protected. If there’s one thing you don’t do, it’s mess with Brenda Manners’ son.”

“S
o you want me to dump him in his apartment and hope he doesn’t sleep through an attack by one of the psychos?”

“Not exactly. We’d like you stay with him
for the time being, or until the danger has passed.”

The car swerved.
“What?” Clarice screeched. Stay with the overgrown kitty? Forced to endure more of his sly innuendos and his tingling touches? Oh, that was such a bad idea. Bad, bad idea.
And yet, wasn’t I planning to spend the night?
One night. Kloe, on the other hand, implied longer.

“I am not a babysitter.”

“I realize that. But even you admitted he couldn’t be left alone.”

“
Because he’s oblivious and more concerned with fixing them and won’t admit they’re a menace that needs eliminating.”

“I don’t have any other agents to spare, and you’re already with him.”

“Not by choice.”

“
Will you do it for tonight at least?”

“He’s annoying.”
And sexy.

“Really? I’m surprised to hear you say that. The women around here love him.”

“Because they want to do him.”

“And you don’t?”

“No,” she lied. She refused to admit she had anything in common with those stupid hormonal females who fluttered their lashes. Yes, maybe she felt an urge to see if his golden flesh covered his entire body and if he sported fur on his chest, but she could live with that curiosity. No way would she allow him to ruffle her feathers and get close enough to purr against her naked skin.
Uh-oh, I shouldn’t have thought about him naked.
She squirmed and his head lolled. He didn’t wake up, but his nose ended up buried a little more intimately than she liked—okay, she liked, but wished she didn’t.

Kloe still spoke and she struggled to pay attention.
“I’m actually happy to hear he does nothing for you. Poor Nolan takes the overtures of the staff pretty well, but I know it wears on him.”

“Sure it does.” She’d seen how it bothered him in the way he kept inviting her into his bed.

“So I can count on you to keep him from getting hurt?”

Reluctance colored her reply.
“I guess. But what about my things?”

“I’ll have someone run you over some stuff in the morning.”

Hanging up, Clarice glared down at the lion snoring in her lap. Less than twenty-four hours she’d known him and already he complicated her life. Boy, would she give ASS a good verbal spanking over this one.

Arriving at his condo, his car’s
GPS guiding her through the unfamiliar streets, she parked underground, some kind of transmitter automatically opening the secured garage. Given his address placed him on the top floor, it wasn’t hard to guess which prime empty parking spot belonged to him. The big sign boldly stating, “Reserved for Doctor Manners” also helped.

Engine ticking, she sat for a moment st
aring down at his golden crown. Damned cat, he slumbered in her lap, an overgrown pet, unaware of the turmoil he caused. It didn’t exactly boost her ego to know he could sleep so soundly after all his comments. Then again, given she didn’t want his amorous attention, she should count herself lucky.

Still
, though, it was with no little amount of irritation she shook him awake. Apparently, lions took their sweet time waking up. First, he groaned. Then stretched. He turned to snuggle deeper into her lap, his warm breath pulsing against her crotch, a heat felt even through her jeans. She couldn’t help the pooling moisture when he purred, “Mmm, smells good,” in a rough, sleepy voice. Oh yeah, she experienced a definite quiver.

Appalled at her body’s reaction,
and even more worried he’d notice, she shoved him off her lap by scrambling out of the car, leaving his head to thump on the vacated seat. Rolling over, he opened his eyes to pin her with an amused golden gaze and a rumbled, “Good evening.”

“
Not really.”

“
Not a night person, are you?”

“Not all of us have had time to nap.”

“I’m more than willing to donate my thighs for your head if you feel a need.”

“
No, thank you.”

“That’s probably for the best. I don’t think it would make the sof
test pillow.”

Surely he
wasn’t implying… As he clambered out of the car, lanky limbs and all, she took a peek down. Oh yes, he did mean what he said, and sizably too. She quickly looked away, but he still chuckled, having caught her.

“
Thanks for the drive and the pillow.”

“Whatever. Are you coming
?”

“
Depends on you.”

“I meant to the elevator.”

“You going to see me to my door?” His lazy smile did strange things to her tummy.

Flustered
, she looked away and headed to the elevators. She jabbed at the button before she replied. “How many rooms do you have?”

“
It’s a one-bedroom with a den. I went for a large, open space concept. Why?”

“How’s your couch?”

“Large, but my bed is bigger. I assume you’re asking this because you’re planning on staying?”

“Just for the night. Since you refuse to go somewhere and there’s no one else to spare, I get the lovely job of babysitting your hairy arse.”

“Hairy? I’ll have you know I have smooth cheeks. I can show you if you’d like.”

“No
, thank you.”

“Are you sure?
My back is hairless as well, although, I do have to admit to a bit of fur on the chest.”

His admission had her eyes crossing as she imagined her fingers running through it.
“I don’t want to see any part of you unclothed, nor do I care if you require epilation on certain body parts.”

“Shave my fur? Perish the thought. What about you?”

“What about me?” she asked.

“Is your butt hairy?”

The elevator door dinged and out she flew, her eyes scanning the short hall for intruders. Empty, she decided to reply and see if she couldn’t throw him off balance for once. “I’m smooth all over. And I mean everywhere.”

With that rejoinder, she grabbed his key from his hand
while he stood, staring at her with a glazed expression. Was it wrong of her to preen now that she’d finally managed to best him?

Nah.
As for the extra waggle in her walk? Birds strutted all the time, not just when they wanted to mate.

Opening the door, a carved wooden affair big enough to fit an elephant, she stepped into opulence.

“Holy pigeon poop!” To call his place nice would have proven the biggest understatement of the year. Other than the tile floor right when they walked in, the rest of the place boasted cream-colored carpeting—and not the cheap stuff. His wall-to-wall rug was thick, real thick. Kicking off her boots, she sank into it and bit back a groan of pleasure. Okay, so wealth did have some advantages, starting with the view any bird would kill for. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city where lights twinkled, keeping the darkness at bay. She pressed up against the glass, vertigo not an issue for obvious reasons. Now this was a view. A girl could make herself a cozy nest in a place such as this. With the right guy, of course, which the good doctor was most certainly not.

“I take it you approve of
the scenery?”

“Maybe.”

“Says the drooling birdie in my window.”

“I am not drooling.”

“If you say so. Oh, and just so you know, if you need a place to take flight from, there’s a balcony in my bedroom.”

Good to know for practical reasons. She’d have to check it out
, and not because a part of her wondered about where the lion slept. Or if he kept track of his conquests on his bedposts.

“Hungry?”

It surprised her to realize she felt a tad peckish. Dinner digested hours ago, she couldn’t quell the sudden rumble of her tummy, a sound he of course heard. A grin turned his sexy mien boyish.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go see what we can find in the fridge.”

Following him through the impeccably clean space—that put her housekeeping skills to shame—she entered a kitchen dream, for someone who cooked.

Granite counters, stainless steel appliances, dark wooden cupboards
—a modern culinary masterpiece. While she could admire it, she didn’t covet it, not when her idea of cooking involved dialing the pizza parlor down the street, or picking up sushi on her way home.

“You handy in the kitchen?” she asked
, propping her butt onto a high-seated barstool.

“Ha. As if my mother
, my cousins, or my aunts would let me near their kitchen. Nope. My knowledge stops at the microwave.”

A frown marred her face at the evidence of numerous sealed containers in his fridge. “You seem pretty well stocked for a guy who doesn’t cook.”

“The pride apparently fears I’ll die of malnutrition. They make sure I always have meals handy, like premade sandwiches for the nights I work late.” From one of his laden fridge shelves, he pulled a plate covered in clear wrap. But to call the masterpieces on the ceramic serving dish sandwiches did them a disservice. She counted at least six kinds of buns, in pairs, with green lettuce peeking from their middles. As to between the breaded halves? Ham and Swiss with Dijon mustard. Roast beef, mustard, and sharp cheddar cheese. Some kind of egg salad mix, which she avoided with a moue of distaste and which he sheepishly disposed of. A BLT on a sesame bun, which she devoured along with a tuna fish mayo blend that just about made her swoon, especially once she bit into it and noted they’d used real tuna and not the canned stuff.

Bottled water helped wash it down.
Stomach appeased, she leaned back on the stool, feet hooked on the lower rung. “Spoiled much?”

The doctor lifted a shoulder. “I guess. It’s not like I have much choice. I tell them there’s no need
to feed me. I am perfectly capable of calling for food or picking something up. They just ignore me and do what they want.”

“
They
as in your family?”

“Yes. The pride takes care of its own.”

What a novel idea. “What about when you get married? Or settle down with a
harem
?” She couldn’t say the word without sneering.

“Oh, I imagine they’ll back
off a little, but short of moving far, far away, I doubt I’ll ever convince my mother, or even my aunts for that matter, to ever completely leave me alone.”

“Must be nice.”

“Not really. These things come at a cost.”

“
So they charge you?”

“Not monetarily.
”

When he didn’t expand, she held her tongue. The arrangement he had with the female members of his family didn’t concern her.
She could do nothing, however, to curb her envy. What would it be like to have someone care for her every need? To come home knowing she’d have something to eat? Someone who kept watch for her? Someone to guard her back?
Someone who loves me?

She must have required more sleep than she initially though
t to let something like a plateful of premade sandwiches launch her into such a maudlin state of mind. “We should hit the hay.”

“I hope you don’t mean that literally. I don’t think we keep any grass or twigs around for nesting. Would blankets do?”