“We’ll get along fine, cher ,” he assured her before turning, locking his gaze with Claxton’s, and praying the other man read the silent warning there. “This one, though, he may have cause to worry.”
“Natalie, what is this?” Claxton massaged his throat as he glared at Saban.
There was fear in his eyes though, and Saban let himself be content with that for now. Maybe later, he told himself, perhaps once he’d secured his place in Natalie’s heart, then he would take care of this bastard.
“This is Saban Broussard,” she bit out as she moved away from both of them and went to the counter across the room to pour herself a cup of coffee.
He could feel the anger pouring from her now, the uncertainty, and he flashed Claxton another hard look before letting a hard growl rumble in his throat. Because of this son of a bitch, she was mad at him, and if Claxton weren’t very careful, Saban would take it out of his hide. He was satisfied to see Claxton pale further, but when his gaze slid to Natalie, he nearly paled himself. What an interesting reaction. Saban felt the clench of his chest, the awakening knowledge that he cared if this woman were upset with him. And she was very upset with him.
“He’s a Breed enforcer, if you haven’t guessed,” she snorted, a cute little feminine sound that he found he liked. “He’s here to escort me to meet with members of the Breed Ruling Cabinet. I’ve accepted a job with them.”
Ah. Saban’s gaze slashed to Claxton as fury, rich and satisfying, poured from the man. Perhaps this fool would give him the reason he needed to slash his throat after all. Evidently he was doomed to disappointment. Claxton narrowed his eyes, his lips thinned, and his weak hands tugged at the polo shirt he wore, but he made no move toward Natalie. She moved to the end of the bar with her coffee, leaned her hip against it, and regarded both of them rather curiously as she sipped from her cup.
Was she weighing the differences between them or seeing similarities? There were no similarities, Saban decided. Better she see that now rather than later.
“We need to be going,” he told her. “I arrived in time for you to contact Sanctuary or your local law enforcement for confirmation of my assignment and the arrangements that were made to transport you to Columbia. We’re running out of time.”
She sipped at the coffee again, her gaze going between the two of them.
“I can’t just run out of the house with you, Mr. Broussard. Even Callan Lyons should know that. I do intend to contact Sanctuary as well as the police department, my parents, and the principal of the school that I’ve been teaching in. I’ll then shower, dress, pack, and get ready to go. That won’t be accomplished in a matter of minutes.”
His body tightened; lust slammed through every bone and muscle that comprised it as he stared at the defiance in her eyes. When was the last time anyone had dared to defy him, to make him wait?
“I’m not leaving you here alone with him,” Claxton snapped, but there was very little heat in his voice. Saban slid his gaze to the other man. “Bet me,” he murmured, letting his gaze meet the pale blue orbs and allowing the lust that fired his body to gleam in them.
Better this bastard knew up front that Saban intended to claim what the other man had so carelessly thrown away. Some men were just smarter than others, it appeared.
“Bet me.” Natalie’s cup struck the counter, jerking Saban’s gaze back to her. She didn’t bother to shoot Claxton that gleam of anger burning in her eyes, but Saban felt it clear to the soles of his feet. It made him horny. Made him want to show her exactly who she would belong to, who would control all that fire and passion inside her.
But that wasn’t going to happen if he let her remain angry with him. What had those dating books said? The ones little Cassie Sinclair had heaped on him the year before?
Charm, soft words, praise, and the ability to compromise would show a woman his innate ability to please her on both the emotional as well as the mental level. He could do this.
“Cher.” He let the soft breath of his accent free and tried to keep from strutting as her eyes widened, her face flushed, and a hint of aroused heat flowed from her body. “I apologize for this. He came in threatening.” Explaining himself nearly had him clenching his teeth in irritation. “I thought he had come to harm you or perhaps even myself. I am a Breed.” He shrugged, knowing it was self-explanatory; Breeds were attacked on a daily basis. “My only thought was to protect you and myself as well.” He smiled at Claxton. All teeth, sharp canines and the male promise of future payment. “Pardon my reaction to your entrance, but perhaps you should have knocked first.”
Silence filled the kitchen for long moments.
“And here I thought my day couldn’t get worse,” he heard Natalie mutter then. “I was so wrong.”
ONE
Y ears before, Natalie could have sworn there was no one harder to get along with than her brother. Ill-tempered, overbearing, and certain of his place in their mother’s affection, he had tortured her. Tormented her. Pulled her hair, hid her dolls, flushed her goldfish, and generally kept her in a state of distress.
She was of a mind to forgive him now, because she had found someone more overbearing, more ill-tempered, and much, much harder to get along with.
So would someone tell her, please, why she could feel herself being charmed rather than irritated? Why it was becoming so damned hard to maintain her distance and not smirk at his antics?
She was pissed, she told herself. It was all a game—she could feel it, sense it—but his efforts to get her attention were beginning to draw much more than her interest. She was beginning to like him. No, not just like him, and that was the scary part.
She’d been in Buffalo Gap less than two months, and she had tried, she knew she had tried not to be charmed with the arrogant, conceited, smirking Jaguar Breed that Jonas Wyatt had saddled her with, but God help her, it was getting harder by the day.
She should be angry with him, because to tell the truth, there were times she just didn’t know what to do with him.
Such as the time he had followed her to the doctor. Had he stayed in the waiting room? Of course not; he had tried to breach the examination rooms. Had become so threatening that Natalie had been forced to ask the nurse to allow him to stand in the hallway.
Not so much because of his protective determination to be there, but because of his eyes. She almost sighed at the thought of that. The shadows in his eyes had been bleak, and Natalie knew if she had forced him outside the doctor’s office entirely, then the animal DNA that had somehow decided she needed protecting would have pushed them both over a line they were delicately balancing on, even then. It was distracting though, even a little embarassing. Even her ex-husband hadn’t attempted anything so forward as to try to horn in on her examinations.