Primal Song (7 page)

She stood in the yard staring at the oldest home in Pointe-Aux-Chat, built by the sweat of Fleur Lebeau’s…well, not her brow but she’d worked hard to have this house built. It should have come to Claudette, and then Daisy, but because her idiotic great-grandmother had to fall in love, the Lebeaus lost their heritage. Yet another reason she questioned her dreams of falling in love.

Daisy shook her head. Kitty didn’t want anything to do with Red House. Her mother and Aunt Francine, Mimi’s granddaughters, didn’t want anything to do with it, but Daisy wanted it, had planned for years how she could afford to buy it back. And now this.

Monk appeared in the doorway, his sharp, green eyes glinting with satisfaction. She bared her teeth at him. She wanted to beat him to death with his own shoes. She knew why he’d done this and it had nothing to do with her, or money. No, it was about Kitty and Daisy’s retaliation against the man who’d fucked up her cousin’s life. She clenched her hands into fists and advanced on the smirking cougar. She was going to—

A big body, broader and taller than Monk, shoved him out of the doorway. Daisy watched in horror as a pleased smile curled Ram’s lips. His amber eyes gleamed with anticipation and feral promise. She took a cautious step back. She was an idiot. She’d been so focused on kicking Monk’s ass she hadn’t scented Ram.

He bounded down the steps of the porch, his faded jeans molded to his thick thighs and the bulge of his cock. Her pussy went soft and fluid at the sight of him. The faded black tee he wore strained across his shoulders, clinging to the muscles of his chest and stomach and all she wanted to do was drop to all fours and beg him to take her.

“Daisy,” he purred as he hit the ground, crossing over to her a lot faster than she liked.

She threw her hand up to ward him off, as if that would stop a lion when he had something he wanted in sight. “Stop!” she ordered in a gruff tone that wouldn’t fool anyone.

Her damn body arched toward him even as her brain shouted to get the fuck away. It didn’t work. The minute his fingers wrapped around her wrist, she went limp, her brain shut down, and all she wanted was to have him inside her again. The mark on her chest and the other on her back throbbed with need, hungry for his fangs to sink into her again.

She opened her mouth to mumble out another denial, but his lips landed on hers and sucked all thought right out of her head. She slumped in his arms, molding every inch of her body to his. This was not good, some part of her brain reminded her, but everything else in her cried out to get closer.

Their breaths mingled as their tongues dueled in the hottest, wettest kiss of her life. She’d thought the kiss they shared the night before was sexy, but this one felt ten degrees hotter because this time she knew what he could do with his mouth, knew how he could bring her pleasure she’d never expected to find. So what if he was an arrogant, harem-forming asshole? He kissed like a god.

“Well, well, well.”

Daisy broke off the kiss to glare over Ram’s shoulder at Monk, who leaned against the porch post with a smug look on his face. Ram didn’t seem to notice because he trailed his mouth down the side of her face to her neck, his raspy tongue sending electric bolts of pleasure streaking to her womb.

“If I had known you wanted the house that bad, we might have come to some kind of arrangement,” Monk continued with a feral smile.

Ram froze, his body tensing around her. Daisy fought her way out of the lion’s possessive hold. Thank God, because she’d been on the verge of dropping trou’ and letting the lion mount her right in front of her archenemy. Oh, that would have been wonderful. The thought gave Daisy enough strength to step away from Ram. She glared at the cougar, letting her gaze linger on his crooked nose. “You remember what happened the last time you opened your mouth about someone in my family, right?”

His smile became a tight-lipped scowl.

“Just think what I’d do if you talked shit about me,” she cooed with a shark-like grin. Ram’s fingers stroked her arm and she jerked away from him. Oh, he wasn’t going to get her so easily again. “Keep your hands and lips to yourself, cat.” She turned back to Monk. “Why, dammit? Why did you sell to him and not to me? Do bastards flock together, or something?”

“Hey,” Ram protested faintly.

Daisy didn’t look at him, centering all her anger on the cat who’d made her and her cousin’s lives miserable for so long. “Is this revenge? Is that it, Monk?”

Something burned in his eyes, but disappeared behind his infamous smirk. “You’ll never know, Daisy Lynn,” he murmured and stepped off the porch. He brushed past her, his nostrils quivering. “By the way, love the perfume you’re wearing. Eau de Lion?”

Ram stopped Monk before he could leave. “Remember what you swore,” he said to the cougar.

Monk glanced from Daisy to Ram and back again before he nodded with another smirk. “No press. Oh, and if you want your security system to actually work, you might want to arm it first, or you’ll have bitchy bears littering your lawn.”

She stared after him, rage burning deep inside. Her bear stirred in confusion. It wasn’t sure what the big deal was. Their mate was here in the house they wanted. They could have everything in one fell swoop. But Daisy refused to even contemplate it. She’d loved Kyle and it’d torn her apart when he told her about his pride. She also hadn’t been half as attracted to him as she was to Ram. She’d rip out her own heart before she let him close to her. That road led to agony.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded in a rough voice that sent quivers through her.

Damn. She swung around to face him, doing her best to ignore the flush of arousal on his cheeks and the scent of his need spicing the air around him. Instead, she concentrated on the fact that he now owned the house she’d yearned for all her life.

“Why did you buy this house?”

His nostrils flared, his pupils expanding and she knew he caught a whiff of her arousal. “I want to be close to my mate.”

She almost fell on the fucking ground the outrage hit her so hard. “Your mate?” she screeched at him, claws tearing through the tips of her fingers. “We fucked, that was it. Unless you have another mate and if you do, you mother—”

Ram suddenly leaned forward until their noses almost touched. “Yes, I have a mate and I fucked her long and hard last night,” he growled with a poke to her chest. “I don’t know where you come up with this shit, Daisy, but it stops now.
You’re
my mate. You. And I’m not going anywhere, so get used to it.”

Daisy gaped up at him. His mane had sprouted a couple of inches during his little hissy fit and his fangs were out. She’d say something about his lack of control, but her claws were out and the tingling in her mouth suggested her own fangs were about to make an appearance. Her bear responded to Ram’s lion as if they were connected in some way.

She rejected that thought as soon as it formed. She had a plan and lions did not factor into it. At all.

Though she hated to appear weak, she took a step back to give herself some space. “How much do you want for it?” She was proud of how steady her voice came out.

He frowned. She was not going to melt into a puddle because he looked adorable when confused. “What are you talking about?”

Daisy glanced at the house, the yearning in her heart tugging painfully. “How much will you sell the house to me for?”

Ram stared at his mate, not understanding why she fought so hard to deny him when it was obvious they belonged together. She’d looked gorgeous this morning, her dark eyes sparking with her temper, her cheeks flushed from a combination of arousal and anger. He could easily picture getting her worked up to have the pleasure of fucking the anger right out of her, but now wasn’t the time for that.

He hadn’t liked the tension between Daisy and Monk, not one bit. There was history between the two of them. It’d taken considerable willpower to keep from attacking the other male. Just one hint that Monk wanted Daisy and Ram knew he’d kill the cougar and not think twice, but all he’d scented between them was anger.

She crossed her arms over her chest, bringing his attention to her luscious breasts and the deep cleavage between. A sense of urgency surrounded her along with a hint of desperation. She wanted the house more than anything. He could give it to her, but then she would have no use for him.

The harder she fought to deny the attraction between them, the more he wanted to cement the union. Ram’s lion paced, impatient to make her his, but he knew if he pushed she’d bolt and he’d likely never catch her. No, Daisy needed careful handling if he was going to keep her. The kernel of an idea formed. It was highly unethical, but then this was his future at stake.

He had to figure out why she was so resistant and show her why she should mate him. The way Ram figured it, she was freaked out because of his celebrity status and the tales of groupies and shit during tours, but once he was mated, he’d never touch another female. He’d watched his mom become more and more withdrawn as her philandering mate added females to his pride without a care for what it did to her. Ram had vowed when he left home that if he ever mated, he’d be completely devoted to his mate. Even if he hadn’t made that promise, he knew Daisy would drain him of any urges to wander.

She just needed time to learn more about him—the real Ramsey Reinhardt—and not the bullshit the press made up to make his life seem more exciting. Once she knew him, she’d accept him. He’d have to take things slow, seduce her. The lion snarled with impatience, but Ram batted the crazy cat back. She’d be theirs. It would just take a little more time than he’d originally anticipated.

Decision made, Ram rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How much are you talking about?”

The sum she named was a third of what he’d paid, so it was easy to shake his head. “I wouldn’t make my money back.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

The disappointment in her voice almost made him feel bad, but then he remembered he was playing for keeps here. “Yeah, I paid three times that for the house and while I might be a rock star, I do know how to make money.”

Daisy looked at the house, the longing on her face heartbreaking. He almost broke down and told her it was hers if she became his mate. It would be the easiest solution, but he didn’t want her to come to him because of a house. He wanted her to come to him because she wanted him. Simple as that.

Time to go in for the kill. “Maybe we can come to some kind of agreement,” he said.

Her eyes flashed angrily. “I’m not sleeping with you for the house,” she gritted through her teeth.

Ram feigned shock. “Honey, no woman on earth has a piece of ass worth that much.” He stroked his chin again, biting back a smile at her drop-jawed look. “Although…can you put both your legs behind your head?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? No!” Her cheeks went bright red and her fangs were fully exposed.

He forced a sigh. “Well, that might have been worth it.” He had to look away before he started laughing. The look on her face was fucking priceless. “Maybe we’ll have to work something else out. I’ll have to think about it.” He started for the house and stopped on the porch to look back at her.

She stared at him as if she expected his head to start spinning. Considering she already looked at him as though he were the devil, Ram decided it was a vast improvement. Things were already looking up.

“Why don’t you stop by tomorrow and we’ll talk about it. I need to get settled in,” he called out to her with a bright smile. The shock in her eyes gave way to anger. God, she was gorgeous when she was pissed. “I’ll see you later, Daisy.”

It took everything he had to walk in the house as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His lion scratched at him to turn around and grab their mate. But they had to think of this as a hunt. A very important, life-changing hunt they couldn’t screw up.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a sigh. The portrait of Fleur Lebeau seemed to taunt him, as if she dared him to tame her descendent. Ram tipped an imaginary hat at the long-dead woman.

“She’ll be putty in my hands.”

*

Two days later Ram stepped through the doors of the Hair Shack with a feeling of dread. He’d seen a couple of nondescript vehicles on the road on the way to town that made him wonder if the press had found him after all. He’d called Clint on Sunday evening to have him stall any reporters who wanted to interview Ram about the tour. He didn’t want any distractions while he wooed his mate.

The truck he’d ordered had finally been dropped off the day before and he’d driven to the tiny town of Maison Rouge because he knew damn well Daisy wasn’t going to come see him. He’d waited, but Sunday and Monday rolled around with no sight of her. Now he was a lion on a mission to hunt down his wayward mate. First though, he needed to learn more about her, but that wasn’t his only reason for coming to the Hair Shack. His mane was driving him insane.

He
had
to keep it cut. Feeling the long strands sticking to his face during his morning runs and getting it caught in his eyes when he was trying to do something irritated the shit out of him. If he thought he could cut a straight line, he’d have taken a pair of shears to himself and called it done. However, he did have an image to uphold and a botched haircut wouldn’t do him any favors.

The Hair Shack looked exactly like what it was called—a shack. It was an old wooden building that had apparently started off as a shed, but had been expanded over the years. It wasn’t fancy, yet it was full of clients who all stopped to stare at him.

He recognized a few of the women from the welcoming committees. At first he’d been wary of the females, convinced they were there to gather information to give to the press, but they had something more important to see him about. It seemed they all thought he’d starve without their help. Over the last week he’d received more food than he could eat. Gumbos, bulging pans of jambalayas, desserts, and even a block of something dubiously named hog’s head cheese. He liked that the women wanted him to feel welcome in their town, but wasn’t sure he could put a dent in the pile of food crowding the fridge at Red House.