She released the steering wheel, her hands reaching out for him, and that’s when he stepped back. His eyes were closed and his tongue swiped his lips, as if he were still savoring the taste of her.

When he looked at her again, he said, “Night.”

And walked off!

Gwen watched him, moving from a slow burn to a nice, frothy rage as he left her sitting there in her running truck.

Again! He’d left her again! This time was worse than the last, too, because she was awake and fully aware he was leaving her!

You turned him down for the date, her rational cat side reminded her. And her human side told her cat side to shut the fuck up!

“Bears,” she growled. “Tricky, eating-out-of-trashcan Jersey bears! I hate all of them!”

She slammed the truck into reverse and tore out of the MacRyries’ driveway, promising herself never to return no matter how much she liked his parents or what a great kisser Lock MacRyrie was.

Never. Again!

Lock walked up to his parents’ house, the sweet taste of Gwen still on his lips.

It had been a long time since he’d felt like this about a woman. A long time since something had caught his interest other than food or survival. And he liked it. He liked feeling something other than hunger or dread, panic or calm, anger or absolutely nothing. For the first time in years he felt warm from the inside out and he loved it. Wanted more of it.

He wanted more of Gwen O’Neill.

She wouldn’t be easy to get, though. Like a cat staring at him from a hundred-foot tree, Gwen kept herself safe from outsiders, only the chosen allowed in to her world.

But Lock was nothing if not persistent. He had pulled ancient trees out by the roots to get to a beehive, and battled full-blood grizzlies to get the best spot in a salmon-filled Alaskan river. So if Gwen thought she could motion him out of her life with a wave of her hand and an “It’s not you, it’s me,” she was dead wrong.

“Nicely handled, son,” his father praised as Lock stepped into the house, the old man patting him on the shoulder as he passed.

Lock smiled in return, feeling surprisingly pleased with himself. “Thanks, Dad.”

Niles, exhausted to his bones, rubbed his forehead and glared across the boardroom table. They’d all been arguing for the last three hours and he’d just hit his wall.

As he slammed his hand on the table, every predator eye locked on him. It was a disturbing sight, but one he’d gotten used to over the years since he’d joined the Board. “We can’t keep having this same argument. Nor can we ignore how things are changing.”

The ancient matriarch of the Llewellyn Pride, Matilda, tapped her claws against the table. She was so old, she couldn’t retract them anymore. “What are you suggesting, Van Holtz?”

“You know what I’m suggesting, and I’m tired of talking. Do we do this…or not?”

“Do we have much of a choice?”

“Not anymore.”

The representatives of every major Pack, Pride, and Clan, as well as reps for nonsocial breeds, glanced at each other. After a much-too-long stretch of time, each nodded, silently giving their agreement.

Matilda was the last. She nodded, white-gold mane briefly covering her face.

“Good,” Niles said, signaling to his assistant. “Then we’re done.”

They rose to leave, one of Matilda’s nieces helping the old lioness out of the chair. But before she left, and after everyone else had, she focused still-sharp gold eyes on Niles. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Matilda, you just agreed—”

She waved one white claw. “I’m not talking about the decision that was made here, young Niles. I’m talking about your new hire.”

Oh. That. Well, he’d known there would be some uncomfortable with his choice, but that was too damn bad. “I was empowered by the Board to make those decisions. Without getting prior approval by you…or anyone.”

“You were. But be careful, poodle.” She made her slow way toward the door, her niece gripping her elbow. “That one’s predecessor…that didn’t end too well, now did it?”

“Perhaps,” Niles murmured, hiding his smile. Because as Niles’s father used to tell the story, it actually only ended badly for the Llewellyn Breeding Male who’d gotten in that one’s way.

“She’s going to be difficult,” his assistant reminded him once Matilda was gone.

“True. But there’s something to keep in mind…” Niles picked up his papers and shoved them into his briefcase “…the old bitch can’t live forever.”

His assistant looked at him with what Niles could only interpret as amusement mixed with pity. “Perhaps not, sir. But she’s clearly going to make her best effort.”

CHAPTER 9

With extreme care, Gwen pulled the sheet back until nothing blocked her from all six feet, four inches and 280 pounds of naked Mitch O’Neill Shaw. Raising her hands, she unleashed her claws. While her fingernails still sported Eagle colors, her claws sported the Steelers.

And her brother hated the Steelers.

Grinning, Gwen leaped straight into the air at the same time that Sissy Mae’s eyes opened, instantly growing round and huge as Gwen landed on her brother’s back with all her weight and slammed her front claws right into his ass.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

Ignoring his howl of pain, Gwen quickly and efficiently dug her claws in and out of her brother’s ass cheeks until she was satisfied she’d left a proper—and memorable—pattern. Because if nothing else, he needed to learn that she wouldn’t tolerate him treating her like a child and talking down to her as he’d done the day before. Even more important—it was fun!