Here Kitty, Kitty! Page 7

It had been years since Nessa Sheridan brought that pretty little ass of hers to visit. One of the few wolves they ever allowed on their territory. College friends for four years and for some unknown reason his usually suave brother couldn’t quite get what he wanted from her. But, in usual Vorislav fashion, the man kept trying. His phone bills must be brutal, though. The woman had lived in Europe for quite awhile now.

Of course this still created a very big problem. “If we’re talkin’ the Sheridans…we’re talkin’ the Magnus Pack.” He’d never met the other Pack members but he remembered Nessa’s brother and father well enough. And he knew the rest of that Pack’s reputation. Wolves. Bikers. Nut cases. Since he last had to deal with that “little gang,” they’d wiped out the Withell Pride and had taken on a new Alpha Female. Some psychopath that had the entire Cat Nation double-checking the locks on their doors at night. She’d only been Alpha for six months, but apparently she was damn scary.

“The…,” Reena’s sharp gold eyes lasered over to her cousins. “The Magnus Pack!”

“Why,” Nik asked Kisa carefully, “is an unmarked human part of any Pack?”

“She’s best friends with their Alpha Female.”

“The crazy one?”

Alek and Ban ducked as Nik’s coffee mug went flying. He didn’t throw it, Reena did. “You idiots! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Apparently Reena had heard about the Magnus Pack’s Alpha Female as well.

“Don’t yell at us,” Ban shot back.

“You’re right! I should just kick your butt!”

“Stop,” Nik barked.

“Um…” Kisa raised her hand like she was back in fifth grade. “Anyone else think she’s gotten kind of quiet up there?”

They all looked up at the ceiling. And Nik was almost surprised not to see blood seeping through the walls.

***

The lock removed, the door swung open. Angie squinted at the bright sunlight pouring through the windows. She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, her breath almost caught in her throat. Damn, but the man was beautiful.

So tall. Six-five, maybe. Black thick hair with hints of red and several streaks of white. Not grey. White. And what she missed when she crashed into him at the airport were the big round swirls of white hair behind each ear. That looked unbelievably weird to her, and yet she had the almost overwhelming desire to run her fingers through it and find out if it felt any different than the rest of his hair. She also noticed he kept it short in the back, but he let the front get a little long, so that it fell into his eyes. His nose, long and slightly flat at the tip, reminded her a bit of a cat’s muzzle. And his gold eyes with green flecks reflected the sunlightcoming into the room. The lids of his eyes slightly slanted, so she guessed he had some Asian in him.

He’d finally put some clothes on, too. Loose fitting jeans and an old blue T-shirt with Navy written on it. He didn’t wear any shoes on his big cat feet. Good. If necessary, she could break his foot.

The pair eyed each other for a full minute before Angie couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Well, Hillbilly, ya lettin’ me out? Or are you going to stand there staring at me all day?”

He scowled suddenly and stepped back from the door. “Fine. Get your skinny ass out here.”

Angie’s attempt at being elegant flew out of the room, because his words caused her to trip right into him. She didn’t know whose skinny ass he was talking about, but it couldn’t be hers. She hadn’t been skinny a day in her life and thankfully never wanted to be. Angie had many issues, but problems with self-image had never been one of them.

He grasped her by her arms to stop her fall and she felt the heat from his hands go right through her skin. His gruff tone from a mere second ago changed, “You okay, Sugar?”

She yanked her arms away from him. She detested being touched. Always had. And she found his touch particularly annoying. His voice, though, with its damn Southern accent sent her pulse racing through her entire body like an out-of-control wildfire. “I’m fine. And don’t call me Sugar.” She walked into the middle of the bedroom. “Now what, country?”

He shrugged, an annoying smile tugging at his lips. Then he walked over to the side of the bed, grabbed the cordless phone off the bedside table, and tossed it to her. She caught it with one hand, but she didn’t know what he expected her to do with it. Did he want her to call and make a ransom demand? Or just shove it up his tight ass? More likely that before she made Sara pay the bastard one damn cent for her freedom.

“What the fuck do I do with this?”

“Well, Sugar. It’s called a phone. They’re these amazing new inventions…”

“I know what it is, you mother…” she gritted her teeth, cutting off her curse. If she let the full weight of her fury go, she’d stand there and curse him for the next seventy-two minutes.

She clocked it once.

“I’m not going to ask them for ransom.”

“Ransom,” he laughed. “Who’d pay ransom for you?”

“Why you slimy little…”

“I’m giving you the phone so you can call your friends and tell them to pick your skinny ass up… today.” At her frown of confusion, he added. “Trust me. I didn’t kidnap you. My idiot brothers did. Thought they were doin’ a good thing. Personally, I would have left your ass there. Let the dogs take care of ya.”

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