Melted By The Lion: A Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance (8 page)

But, to my horror, after only a few seconds, Trevor abruptly broke the kiss, pulling away and raking a hand through his thick golden-brown hair. “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. That won’t ever happen again.”

I realized that I wanted it to happen again. Very badly.

“Ever?”

He shook his head, frowning. “No. No, I made a mistake, but we’ll go back to all business from here on out. We’ll go back to me offering you a business arrangement, and you contemplating whether to accept that arrangement.”

Scoffing, I folded my arms across my chest, my tears now completely dry. “Wow. You’re a real piece of work, Trevor. You want to have sex with me, you want to
impregnate
me, but you don’t want to have to kiss me on the mouth.”

Still frowning, he raked a hand through his hair yet again, avoiding my eyes. “When I’m around you, I don’t know exactly
what
I want anymore, and I don’t like it. So, from now on, just stay away from me. Please. Just stay hundreds and hundreds of feet away from me at all times.”

“I thought you wanted to get me pregnant. And if that’s still your end goal, we’re going to have to get a lot closer than hundreds and hundreds of—”

“Savannah, please.” He now met my gaze again, expression pleading. “Just give me space. You’re just not… You’re not who I was expecting.”

“And who were you expecting?”

With a shake of his head, he heaved a sigh. “Two Veronicas, maybe. Or two women who don’t walk around with snarled hair, banging butter knives on counters. I don’t know.”

Just then, his phone went off, and he pulled it from his jeans pocket, looked at the screen, and told me to just give him a second. I said fine, and he answered the call, then listened briefly before speaking again.

“Then get five additional guards over there right now. And tell Aaron I’d like no fewer than twenty guards patrolling the northeast at all times today. I’ll be there myself soon.”

Trevor ended the call and pocketed his phone. I opened my mouth to speak, intending to tell him that I knew he had to go, but he beat me to it.

“I have to go. You’re fully welcome to go out and explore the town today, if you’d like, even the forest lands, so long as you bring your phone. All poisonous snakes and dangerous wildlife have been cleared from the area. However, and I plan to make this crystal clear to Veronica, too, you’re not to stray past town limit markers to the north, where the land starts to get marshy. My men patrol the outskirts of town at all times, but as far as the area beyond the town markers, members of the Renard clan have been known to creep in at times. So, do not stray beyond the markers at any time, for any reason. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”

In response to his tone, I tightened my arms across my chest. “Yes, Commander Beaumont.”

“Good. Now, the markers are very clearly marked, they’re painted a bright neon orange, so you can’t miss them, as are the trunks of nearby trees. A person would have to intentionally and willfully step by the markers in order to stray into dangerous territory, which I trust you’re smart enough not to do.” Trevor paused, clenching his jaw for a second. “As for the two of us, if and when we cross paths in this house, I’d prefer that things be kept entirely businesslike.”

I snorted. “Fine with me. I’m not one to try to ruin anyone’s precious ‘business arrangements.’”

Just then, a door on the kitchen’s east side swung open, and in bustled an older man named Gerald, who wasn’t a shifter, but a fully human man, one of several dozen that had assimilated into Trevor’s formerly-wandering group from various parts over the years. He and his wife Sophie each held the title of “co-head chef” in Trevor’s household, working in a large commercial kitchen adjacent to the formal dining room. I’d met both of them the day before while Jeannie had been showing Veronica and me around.

Just after entering the informal kitchen with a covered silver tray held in both hands, Gerald, a tall, thin man with graying hair and a slightly bent back, stopped short, seeming surprised to see Trevor and me. Without hardly missing a beat, though, he continued over to the table and set the covered tray to the side of Trevor’s maps. “Your breakfast, Commander Beaumont. And I apologize for interrupting, if I am.”

Trevor was already heading over to the table. “Thank you, Gerald. And, no, you didn’t interrupt at all. I was actually just leaving. I’ll take my breakfast to go.”

Trevor took the lid off the tray and began piling fried eggs, bacon, and tomato slices on a piece of toast; Gerald dipped his head in a nod, then asked me if he and Sophie could make me any breakfast.

Recalling Jeannie telling me that Gerald and Sophie tended to feel underused on days when Trevor wasn’t hosting a social dinner at the mansion, which was most days, I told Gerald that a ham-and-cheese omelet would be wonderful. He smiled and said he’d have it ready in just a few minutes, then exited the kitchen through the swinging door. In the short amount of time it had taken me to make my request and Gerald to respond, Trevor had finished making his toast sandwich, had taken a few gulps of coffee, and had left the kitchen without so much as a hasty
bye
in my direction.

After warming my coffee with an extra splash from the pot, I began drinking it, though that was difficult, since I seemed to be developing a lump in my throat. And after a few sips, the feel of warm liquid rolling down my cheek told me that my tears weren’t quite done for the morning. Almost as soon as I’d started back up again, I wiped my eyes with a paper napkin, then balled it up and hurled it across the counter to Trevor’s maps on the table. If he wanted things to be perfectly businesslike between us, that was fine. But I’d never agree to have a baby with a man who wouldn’t kiss me.

CHAPTER FIVE

By late afternoon, I’d already made my first friend in town. Her name was Bridget, and she was beautiful, with chocolate brown, almond-shaped eyes, jet black curly hair, and flawless, creamy skin the color of coffee with milk. She’d been thawed about four months earlier, to have a baby with Aaron, Trevor’s top lieutenant and right-hand man. But despite the fact that Bridget hadn’t become pregnant yet, she and Aaron had already gotten married. They’d not only quickly meshed on a physical level, Bridget had told me with a little wink, but they’d also fallen deeply in love, and pretty immediately, too. Now they were just waiting for a baby to add to that love and make their happiness complete. Bridget’s life sounded like a dream to me.

After I’d taken a bike ride into town, I’d met her outside the ceramics shop, and she’d introduced herself and then asked if I’d like her to show me around town. I’d gladly accepted, and after she’d treated me to lunch and dessert at one of Beaumont City’s three restaurants, we’d browsed in a few boutiques, toured the library, and had gotten manicures and pedicures at the town’s beauty salon. Having found an envelope in my bedroom labeled
Pocket Money
, containing bills printed with the lion crest of the new nation of Louisiana, I’d said I’d treat us to our salon visit, but I ended up only paying for Bridget’s. Upon learning who I was, the owner of the salon, a pleasantly plump older woman named Donna, smiled and said all services for a “guest of Commander Beaumont’s” were on the house and always would be.

She’d seemed to struggle for a second before saying the word
guest
, as if she hadn’t been quite sure how to describe me. I didn’t blame her. With her not knowing what had already transpired between Trevor and me, or hadn’t, “girlfriend” would have seemed a bit presumptuous; “possible bed-mate” would have just been pure awkwardness; “possible future baby’s mother” would have sounded just plain clunky and wrong. And if I
had
slept with Trevor, which Donna obviously had no way of knowing, “friend” might have come off as disrespectful or belittling to a woman involved in an intimate relationship.
Guest
worked just fine for me. Though, of course, a truer description would have been “business associate of Commander Beaumont.”

The two young women who’d done our nails had welcomed me to town warmly, and then, while doing our pedicures, one of them had asked how I liked living in the mansion with Veronica.

I’d hesitated, struggling to come up with a diplomatic answer. “Well, I guess I enjoy living with her, just more during the times when she’s nowhere near me.”

The two nail technicians had laughed heartily, and the one who’d asked me the question nodded.

“I guessed as much. She was already in here earlier today, demanding we paint her nails a color I’m not sure even exists. And that was just the start of her demands. I’ll just say that as a customer, we like you a lot better.”

I’d smiled, then promised I’d try to keep up my good behavior.

Now, sitting at a little table and enjoying iced cappuccinos under the shade of a large red umbrella outside the town’s lone coffee shop-slash-cafe, Bridget and I were talking and laughing like we’d known each other for years. After a while, though, once our laughter about various things had died down, Bridget got a bit more serious, asking me if I’d been able to remember my past yet.

“And I ask because as a former ‘frozen woman’ amnesiac myself, I know how hard it is to try to remember things you just
can’t
. So, if you want to vent to me about it, I’m all ears.”

I thanked her, then said that fortunately, I’d remembered a lot already. “I actually had kind of a memory breakthrough with Trevor this morning, but I’m still drawing a complete blank on my life from about the time I finished high school to the nuclear blast, and that’s about a seven-year time period. Kind of a big chunk to not recall. What was I doing during all that time? Who were my friends? Did I have a career? I just have no earthly clue. I think I had pets, though that’s all I know. When I first woke up in the hospital, I kept asking if ‘all the animals’ had been fed and watered, so I probably had a lot. They probably all died in the nuclear blast, though, because like I told Trevor this morning, when I volunteered to be frozen, I remember that I felt like I had nothing left.”

With a few of her curls blowing in a warm breeze, Bridget sipped her iced cappuccino for a few moments, appearing to be thinking, before setting the glass down. “Well, unlocking those last lost years can be tricky. I kind of had the same thing for a while, only the opposite. The fifteen years or so before the blast, I was able to recall pretty quickly, but unlocking my childhood, anything before about eight or nine years old, and remembering anything about it was the hard part. But here’s my advice. Since you had a memory breakthrough while with Trevor today, try to spend as much time with him as possible. Maybe there’s something about him that helps to unlock your mind.”

We hadn’t discussed my “business relationship” with Trevor just yet. And since it put me in a bad mood to even think about it, I wasn’t totally sure that I wanted to.

So, I just shrugged, gaze on the straw wrapper I was playing with. “Well, I don’t think spending a lot of time with Trevor is possible. He just seems to be very busy. We’ve honestly hardly spent any time at all together.”

“Oh. So, not that it’s any of my business, but the two of you aren’t, ahem,
close
yet, then.”

I sighed, still playing with the straw wrapper, deciding to just tell her the gist. “No. We’re not, ahem,
close
yet. And we never will be. See, he just wants a ‘business arrangement.’ Heirs in exchange for free room and board at the commander’s mansion. And that just doesn’t work for me. When I
do
have a child, I don’t want the father of him or her to be my ‘business partner.’ I want him to be the man I love, and who loves me. That’s never going to be Trevor, though. We’ve had a few
moments
, I guess you could say, but for the most part, he’s all business. And that works just fine for Veronica, so good for her, I guess. She can go ahead and have all the babies she wants with him. Not that she’s gotten, ahem,
close
to him yet, either. I listened to make sure.”

“So, even though you don’t like him treating your relationship like a business arrangement, you
do
care for him.”

I finally looked up from my crumpled straw wrapper. “I didn’t say that.”

Crossing her long legs and leaning back in her chair, Bridget gave me a knowing little look. “Okay, then. So, it was just pure curiosity that made you listen to see if he was getting intimate with another woman.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Well, yes. No.” Frustrated, I sighed. “No. But even if pure curiosity
wasn’t
the reason I listened, it doesn’t even matter. Trevor wants a business relationship, that’s all, and I don’t. Plain and simple. He’s got some wall up around himself, and apparently, he likes it that way, so that’s that. He’s probably always been closed off when it comes to his relationships, and in fact, Martha at the hospital even said as much, so honestly, he and Veronica are perfect for each other. Two calculating business people, and they’re both gorgeous. I’m sure they’ll make beautiful kids, and Trevor will have the perfect business relationship that he’s always wanted.”

Frowning, Bridget opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and shook her head. Strangely, she then did the exact same thing, opening her mouth as if planning to say something but then deciding against it again with a shake of her head. “Well, my advice is to just give things a bit more time. You never know if—”

“No, what were you going to say?”

Bridget sputtered for a moment. “Nothing. Just to give things a bit more time, and—”

“Liar. What were you
really
going to say?”

Again, she stammered, feigning ignorance, and it was clear to me that she really
was
only feigning it. “I wasn’t going to say anything!”

I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest. “Dear diary, met new friend Bridget today. First impressions: friendly, fun, and nice, but a terrible liar. Literally the worst.”

Bridget burst out laughing, throwing her head back. “Okay. Okay, guilty. I’ll tell you what I was going to say. I was just a little hesitant, because we just met, and I didn’t want you to think I was too—I don’t know. Forward. Or something. Too free in sharing certain things the very first day we meet. But I’ll tell you now.”

“Okay, so what is it?”

Now I was really intrigued.

“Well, I was just going to say that you should just give things a bit more time with Trevor, and maybe think things over about giving up on him, because you don’t want to miss out on something I call, well, I just plain call it ‘the joy of sharing a bed with a shifter.’ Are you familiar at all? And by that, I mean, have you
heard
anything about shifters in the bedroom?”

Now I was really, really intrigued.

I shook my head. “No. What’s so special about shifters in the bedroom? I mean, what do they do that’s different than normal men?”

I knew I wasn’t a virgin, because earlier that day, during my bike ride into town, I’d recalled a few more things from my teenage years, namely, sleeping with my high school boyfriend when I was eighteen. He’d been a nice enough boy, I’d remembered, and we’d thought we were in love. However, the experience had been underwhelming, even though I’d managed to get into things just enough to manage a climax. Something had just felt like it was missing to me, and our relationship had soon fizzled out for various reasons.

Since I couldn’t seem to recall my life post-high school and pre-nuclear blast, I had no idea if I was very sexually experienced or not, although I had a feeling I was
not
. When I thought of phrases like “mind-blowing climax,” like I’d heard one young woman whispering into her phone earlier that day in one of the boutiques, seemingly telling a friend about an experience she’d had the night before, I just couldn’t connect with it. The concept didn’t resonate with me, as if I’d never had a “mind-blowing climax” of my own and subconsciously knew it. So, this fact heightened my curiosity about what Bridget was going to say next.

Seeming to notice that I was now hanging on her every word, Bridget began toying with me, clearly enjoying it. A woman she knew walked by on the sidewalk beyond the little cafe tables where we were sitting, and Bridget waved her over, smiling. Several minutes later, after Bridget had talked the woman’s ear off, the woman finally said she had to get going and left.

Bridget leaned back in her chair, gaze up toward the clear blue sky beyond our table’s big red umbrella. “I am just
loving
all this sunshine today.”

“Dear diary, my new friend Bridget is not only a terrible liar, but also a complete tease when it comes to sharing information. She’s awful, frankly.”

Bridget laughed even louder than she had the last time. “Okay. Okay, I
am
being a tease. I’ll stop.”

“All right. Then, tell me. What’s so special about shifters in the bedroom?”

“Oh, God. What
isn’t
?” Even though we were the only ones sitting outside the cafe, Bridget still leaned forward, arms folded on the table, and spoke in a low voice. “Savannah, shifters are special. Like, sex-god special, and I’m not kidding. And, no, I’m sure scientific tests haven’t been done to empirically prove this, but just anecdotally—based on my own experience, and those of the friends I’ve made here, and just, other things I’ve heard around town—trust me. It’s true. You might have heard the girl on the phone in the boutique today, and that is totally not an unusual experience to overhear stuff like that. I think the vast majority of women in this town are very, very happy in the bedroom department.”

My mouth had gone a little dry, so I took a sip of my iced cappuccino before speaking. “Well, what is it about shifters, specifically?”

“Well, specifically, it’s stamina and endurance, if you get me. For example, if you’re a girl that might need a little more time to ‘get there,’ don’t worry. The average shifter can more than handle that. It’s also a fact that even in human form, they’re many times stronger than the average human man, so they can use that strength to do some pretty interesting ‘moves’ that most human men couldn’t do. And it’s also, well, how on earth do I put this delicately?”

“You don’t have to. Just say it.”

Bridget chuckled. “Well, okay. You know that phrase ‘hard as a rock?’ I’ll just say that, and unlike with fully human men sometimes, there isn’t much waiting time involved, and honestly, I’d say there’s never any waiting time. Which kind of leads me to something else. Shifters seem to have increased
drives
, so if you’re the kind of lady who might welcome her man very frequently approaching her in the bedroom, well, a shifter is the kind of man you want.”

I actually thought I might indeed be that kind of lady. My face was a little warm currently, and not just because the temperature was eighty degrees, which was even somewhat cool for spring in Louisiana, but from letting my mind wander a bit in regards to some of the things that Bridget had said.