Fierce Protector (Sierra Pride Book 3) (2 page)

She’d never get to prove him wrong, or make him feel bad, for leaving.

The insecurities were spiraling out of control, so she shook them off and fell into some semblance of her nightly routine. She was dead tired, but she needed to record her impressions of the day. Speaking quietly into her digital recorder, she recounted her pursuit of the cougar, and her guesses as to its sex and age based on the paw prints. A mature, adult male. Healthy, given its walking stride and its running stride.

“I bet he’s a beautiful cat,” she whispered, before switching off her recorder and gazing at the few stars visible through the trees.

Chapter Three

Gabriel waited until the girl was fast asleep before shifting back to cat. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Well, maybe a little. She was, what, studying mountain lions?
Alone
? And here he’d thought graduate students were supposed to be smart.

He clawed his way up a tree, careful to hide his tracks. She’d see his human prints at a distance from her site, but not his cat ones. A little healthy fear never hurt anyone, but he didn’t want to terrorize her.

Other than her lack of a sense of self-preservation, she seemed pretty smart. She was lonely, but not pathetically so. He’d heard the end of her conversation on the satellite phone, just enough to hear about prints. Gabriel would have to be more careful about when and where he shifted.

He should probably leave. Easy enough. He didn’t think going home would be a problem now. When he’d first come out to the woods, he couldn’t quit thinking about Hera to save his life. But since he’d first caught sight of this girl, he hadn’t thought once of Hera. Instead he’d been preoccupied with finding out what this girl was up to. Why should he care, though? What was it about her?

She was all snuggled into her tent, so he couldn’t get a look at her. He catalogued what else he’d figured out. She was great at tracking, and determined. She had to be in good shape to be hiking all over the place with that giant pack. Best yet, she had good taste and sense in aesthetics. He sniffed proudly.
A beautiful cat
, she’d said into her recorder. Damn right, he was beautiful.

Gabriel was the most dangerous predator for miles, but something about this woman, all by herself in the tiny tent, tugged at his protective instincts.

Protection. He’d failed at that once, and lost his sister. Since then, he’d become the alpha of his pride, and he was failing them yet again because he couldn’t keep his baser instincts in check. He’d had to leave because Hera was in danger—from him, the alpha. Instead of protecting her as a new member of the pride, he’d lusted after her and put the entire Sierra Pride in jeopardy.

What a fool. Aunt Nan would have been disappointed. Disgusted.

Now, far from his pride, he had no one to protect—no one except this woman.

From up here in his tree, he had a good view of her little tent, the fabric flimsy and easy to shred. From up here, he could watch over her and make sure nothing happened to her during the night.

He was already awake when she began to stir the next morning. He could hear her moving around in that bean bag-sized tent, stretching her long dancer’s legs. He shook his head at the image. What was wrong with him?

She pushed her pack out ahead of her, and eased out after it. He watched in curiosity while she took out a camp stove and purified some water. Then she heated up a handful of oats or some other grainy thing. He yawned, not at all interested in her food.

When she packed up her things, he watched with interest. She was on the move. Damn stupid human, chasing after a lion.

When she’d gone far enough away that he was sure she wouldn’t be aware of him following, he leaped down from the tree and ghosted after her. He thought of shifting to human form, just to make things more challenging, but the thoughts about leaving his pride were still too painful. When he was a cat, he didn’t feel things as acutely, because his cat had sharper senses. There was less thought about feelings when he was inundated with so much extra sensory information.

Eventually, she came to a low stream. She carefully hiked along it, her brow furrowed as she investigated the ground for tracks. He felt another wave of guilt. His human footprints had freaked her out more than his cat ones. That hadn’t been his intention. All he’d wanted to do was confuse her, throw her off his trail.

When she circled back around toward him, he hid his last few tracks and jumped into a tree. He held still. If she thought he was stalking her as a lion or as a human, everything would be over.

He should run, that’s what he should do. The truth was, though, that this was the first woman to hold his interest since he’d met Hera. He wasn’t ready to walk away from her so fast.

Once she did a last circuit around the area, she seemed satisfied that she was alone.

Gabriel vaguely wondered where she’d go next, and nearly coughed in surprise when she started stripping. He immediately turned away. This was a private moment—she was undressing. While he had no problems with nudity, wouldn’t she be distressed if she knew he was watching?

He couldn’t make himself keep his eyes closed for long. He was too curious about what those long legs would look like outside of the denim packaging, what those pert little breasts would look like when not encased by her tank bra.

When he glanced at her again, she was fully naked.

She was glorious.

Despite her muttered curses like “fucking cold,” as she washed at the edge of the stream, she was elegant. Now that he’d seen her body like this, he wouldn’t be able to look away if he tried.

She patted herself dry with a towel he would’ve given his left nut to trade places with, and dressed again. He stifled a sigh.

With another curse, she heaved up her pack and crossed the stream. As soon as she was well out of sight and hearing, he leaped from the tree and shifted to human. He’d thought to follow her, but now he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to see what she was doing, and, the truth was, he’d changed his mind time and time again—sprinting far away from her so she’d have no hope of catching up with him, and then circling back around to see what she was up to. He couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

It was like it had been with Hera, all over again, which was a sure sign he should get the hell out of these woods.

Was he defective, somehow? Why was he suddenly attracted to women with such ferocity that he turned into a total creep?

He cupped water from the stream in his hands and drank, at the same spot where she had stood. He imagined she was still here with him, running her long fingers through his hair, stroking his chest and arms. Her captivating scent lingered in the tall grasses and on the stones next to the stream.

Shit.

He didn’t want to be like this anymore. He’d come out here to isolate himself, and now
she
had gotten in his way. No more. He resolutely turned around, shifted back to a cat, and walked in the opposite direction of the woman.

He found a sunny rock and lay down, soaking up its heat. It was the perfect place to nap.

When he awoke, he found himself in his human form. He’d woken up midway through his nap, too warm in the sun, and shifted to human to get rid of his hot fur. It was then that he’d dreamed of the hiker in the forest, and in his dream, she’d cradled him in her arms, whispering in his ears, touching his cheek. She’d looked at him with such love in her eyes, he hadn’t wanted to wake up.

Now he was awake, and he had another problem—the biggest hard-on he’d ever experienced. It lifted off his stomach, begging for attention. He ran one of his callused fingers up its length, and felt the thrill of blood rushing hotter through him.

He gripped himself in his fist, closing his eyes. The forest was quiet around him, only the squawks of Steller’s jays and the breeze rushing through the pine trees, the stream trickling, far off.

The same stream where his hiker had stripped down to nothing and rubbed her body with that sponge. He moaned softly, fisting his cock, feeling his balls tighten. This wouldn’t take long, not with thoughts of her perfect, smooth skin, the way the droplets of water had clung to her like so many kisses. Her nipples, hard as river stones in the chill. They would be firm flesh beneath licks of his tongue. She’d grip him with those long legs, pulsing around him—

He came with a loud exhalation, his come shooting across his stomach and chest.

Releasing his sensitive cock, he got up and walked to the stream to wash off.

He’d satisfied himself moments ago…so why did he feel so unsatisfied?

The birds to the southeast grew quiet, except one Red-tailed hawk. He cocked his head, listening.

Shit. She was coming back.

Chapter Four

As she picked her way over the ground, trying to retrace her steps so she’d trample as few tiny ferns as possible, Miranda wondered where she’d gone wrong.

She’d followed cougar tracks.

She’d seen human footprints.

She’d lost the cougar.

She’d lost the human.

At least losing the human was a positive, but otherwise? What had happened?

Maybe she was a fool for being out here, searching the wilderness for samples, for ways to protect California’s mountain lion population. Dr. Gutierrez had encouraged her to come to the Sierras, after all, with blithe reassurances that her data collection would lead to papers on everything from home range size to dispersal to population density.

After a while, she reached the stream she’d bathed in, and she stopped short, shaking her head. No. This was impossible. She walked around, circling the prints in the soft earth. Here, cougar, and here, human. Both together. It was the same barefoot prints from before. Maybe the barefoot human was tracking the cougar, too.

She followed the footsteps back toward a tree.

No, now she really couldn’t believe what she saw. Human footsteps emerged from cougar tracks. As if the cougar had all of a sudden decided to become human and walk upright on bare feet. Ten toes.

No. She shook her head. Impossible.

But if there was one thing she knew about animal tracks, it was that they didn’t lie. If some guy was playing a prank on her—and she was considering the possibility—he wouldn’t be able to hide his tracks. Not here. There was no rocky terrain. He could try to fake the cougar tracks, but he would have to be somewhere, leaving tracks of his own.

Maybe the cougar and human were the same.

Ha, a cougar turning human!

She’d been on her own in the woods for too long. Fumbling with her pack, she tried to steady her breathing. None of this was possible, none of it. It was time to go home—she’d call Dr. Gutierrez and say it was time. She found her satellite phone. Her hands were shaking and she nearly dropped the phone in the mud. It took her three tries to push the power button.

Dr. Gutierrez’s office phone rang and rang, and finally the voicemail picked up. “This is Dr. Evelia Gutierrez. I’ll be out of the office until further notice—”

Miranda hung up and dialed Dr. Gutierrez’s personal cell phone, a number she’d given Miranda for emergencies. This felt like an emergency.

“Dr. Gutierrez speaking.” The reception was choppy—it sounded as if Dr. Gutierrez was on the road.

“Hi,” Miranda said, her voice coming out in a rush. “It’s me, Miranda. I’m seeing some really strange things here. The tracks—”

“Does this have to do with the human footprints you found yesterday?”

“Yes.” Miranda closed her eyes in relief. Finally, she’d be called back. She’d loved being alone, but now she’d get to be around her friends again, sleep in a bed, and eat warm food that someone else made for her at a restaurant of her choosing.

“I see,” Dr. Gutierrez said. “What are your coordinates?”

Miranda rattled them off.

Dr. Gutierrez said, “I’ll be out there as soon—”

Dr. Gutierrez was cut off as the satellite phone was lifted from Miranda’s grasp. She kept her eyes closed, freezing in fear. She heard the
beep
as someone ended the call.

Miranda could feel him, next to her. This was it, the scenario where she met some crazy guy in the woods, the nightmare that she’d been fighting off since yesterday. It was happening.

She forced herself to open her eyes, because damn if she was going to go into some death scene without watching what was happening to her. She’d fight back, although she knew she wouldn’t have much of a chance.

She leaned back in shock when she saw a tanned bare foot next to her, and she followed it up to a naked leg. Scrambling back on all fours, she took in the entire man standing in front of her. He didn’t look crazy. He looked good, actually, and he watched her with a faint trace of amusement on his lightly stubbled face.

But only a truly insane person would be hiking around in the wilderness, completely naked.

She forced her gaze away from his penis and back up to his face. “Take whatever you want,” she said. “Please, let me be. I’ll go back to town and never say a word about you.”

He shook his head. “You already said plenty.”

“Plenty?” What had she said, exactly? That the tracks were strange, there was a man wandering around. “Nobody cares that you’re here. They don’t know it’s you. Seriously, I’ll just—here.” She threw her pack at him. “I’ll go. Take that. I can hike back down the mountain without it.”

She’d hike a lot faster, too, and only have to spend maybe one or two nights without the shelter of her tent.

“I don’t want your pack,” he said. “I want your research.”

“My
research
?”

“Any and all data you have on the lion you’ve been tracking. Hair samples, molds of tracks, photos. Whatever you’ve got, give it to me. You can keep the pack. I don’t need any of that shit.”

“Um, I think you need something, because in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have any clothes on.”

He looked down, as if suddenly realizing. “I guess you’re right.”

She waited for him to look distressed or embarrassed, but he met her stare, completely unabashed. What was with this guy?