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His lips were numb when he forced himself to speak again.
“Nah, she was just a quick fuck.” He was going to throw up, the nausea churning
in his stomach like lava. “Although it took a lot longer to get in her pants
than I thought it would, but whatcha gonna do?” He forced his shoulders to lift
in a shrug as if he didn’t care what he was doing to her reputation, as if he
didn’t love her with all of his heart.

The wolf smiled and almost signed his death warrant.
“Awesome. I’m goin’ after her.”

Others joined the talk, their discussion about Kitty’s body
sparking rage that Monk let loose on the basketball court during class, but
never once did he stop them from talking and letting the story spread. He
needed to make a clean break even though it felt more like he’d left a jagged
scar where Kitty had fit in his life. It was for the best, he knew. One day,
she might even thank him. When she was mated to some other male who wasn’t
tainted, when she’d carried that male’s children beneath her heart and raised
them to adulthood, maybe then she’d look back at Monk and think she hadn’t
loved him at all.

But he couldn’t stop himself from walking down the hall
leading to her locker after school, the halls empty of students and teachers.
He stopped in front of the metal door that held the scent of his mate and
breathed deep.

His shoulders drooped, his head hanging down as he tried to
force himself to move. It wouldn’t do any good to torture himself like this.
Everyone had been quick to tell him that Kitty acted as though nothing had ever
happened, as if she didn’t even care about Monk. His lips quirked. She was much
stronger than he was, or ever would be.

Monk opened his eyes to see a picture half-buried beneath
papers on the ground at his feet. He squatted to pick it up and felt his heart
lurch in his chest. It was the picture they’d taken just two weeks earlier. He
remembered the soft feel of her on his lap, her curvy body fitting against him
perfectly. She was nearly his height, but she never appeared big, not to him.
In his mind, Kitty was delicate and sweet.

He stroked his thumb over her two-dimensional face, the
sparkling dark eyes, the dusky skin she’d inherited from her Native American
father, the full, sweet lips he’d kissed a hundred times. This was all he’d
ever have of her, but if she lived a full, happy life, it would be enough.

Monk stood again and tucked the picture into his pocket. He
sucked in another deep breath, the light floral scent mingled with bear that he
associated with his mate filling his lungs.

This was for the best for everyone. If it left him feeling
like an empty shell of a person, so be it. But better him than Kitty. He’d do
anything to protect her, even if it meant making her hate him.

Chapter Two

Present Day

Kitty Chambers balked at the entrance of the Pointe-Aux-Chat
High School gym. It was packed to the rafters. The sound of hundreds of people
had been muted by the amazing soundproofing the builders had insisted upon. She
hadn’t known what to expect when Daisy asked her to attend the premier of
Saber’s latest video, which had been shot in Maison Rouge. Figuring it would be
a small turnout with the band members and a few others present, the size of the
crowd baffled her even as it made her heart leap into her throat.

“C’mon, we have seats right up in front,” Daisy Picou urged
with a tug on Kitty’s arm.

“Um, why don’t I just stand in the back?” Kitty pulled back
against her cousin’s hold. She did not want to go in there.

A big, heavy arm draped over her shoulders from behind, the
scent of man and tiger surrounding her. “Aw, c’mon, Kitty. You can sit next to
me and tell me how hot I look.”

If Nick Gamble had been going for the distraction, he’d
succeeded. Kitty glared up at him, giving Daisy enough slack to tow her farther
into the gym. Nick snickered, but didn’t let go of her, as though the two had
planned it in advance. She shook her head and followed Daisy to the front row of
floor seats. She was not going to start suspecting her cousin of conspiring
against her. If there was anyone in the world she could trust to have her back,
it was Daisy Lynn Picou soon-to-be Reinhardt.

Kitty didn’t look around at the humans and shifters packed
into the bleachers or seated in the rows of chairs set on center court. Part of
the reason was from the memories bombarding her, but mostly because she was
scared to death to see contempt and outright hatred on the faces turned her
way.

She’d only been home three days, but luckily had managed to
avoid going into town. First it had been because of exhaustion and stress due
to working nearly around the clock for the entire week prior to her trip to
Louisiana. Despite being her own boss, she had a fall line to design and
prepare for as well as regular business problems, like making sure her
employees were paid and disinclined to rebellion.

Once she’d caught up on her sleep after hibernating in her
childhood room, it had been time to meet Daisy’s fiancé and his friends. Kitty
shot Daisy a glare when her cousin pushed her into one of the folding chairs on
the front row, only to receive an impish grin in response. Francine and Hunter,
Kitty’s parents, sat farther down the row with Daisy’s parents. Knowing there
was no way out now, Kitty forced herself to relax. Nick sandwiched her between
him and Daisy, his big shoulder almost pinning her in place with Ram doing the
same on the other side of Daisy.

It was still hard to believe her cousin was marrying one of
the hottest men in the rock world. But after seeing Daisy and Ramsey “Ram”
Reinhardt together, Kitty no longer doubted that they were perfect for each
other. It had been a bit surreal to meet the rest of the band who’d hugged her
as if they were part of her family. It wasn’t because they were famous—she
rubbed elbows with movie stars and dignitaries all the time. It was more
because they were all so sexy.

Kitty shivered and focused her attention on the massive
television screen set up at the front of the gym. She frowned. Back when she’d
been a student here, they’d barely been able to afford new books, yet the
school board had purchased a television screen the size of a stadium big
screen?

“We brought the television,” Nick whispered in her ear.

If her skin rippled, it was because her ears had always been
one of her biggest erogenous zones. It had nothing to do with the wild scent of
tiger that made her bear rouse in mild interest. As attractive as the
all-cat-shifter band was, Kitty did not mess with felines anymore. It didn’t
matter what subspecies they were, she didn’t go there.

Daisy patted her hand. “Just relax and enjoy.”

Just then Mr. Fourchier, Pointe-Aux-Chat’s Parish President,
emerged from the direction of the locker rooms and came to stand next to the television.
His red face shone in the light, his smile huge and blatantly false.

“Good evening, folks,” he said into the microphone. The
sound system squealed, which elicited howls from the wolf shifters. He fiddled
with the base of the mic for a second. “Sorry, is this better? Good! Hey y’all,
I want to thank y’all for coming out tonight to celebrate the premier of a
music video that was shot right here in Maison Rouge.”

Kitty glanced around at the shrieks and screams of
excitement. They came mostly from the teenagers whose faces were bright with
anticipation. The older shifters and humans looked tolerant, if skeptical.

“Yes, well, exactly. It’s an exciting occasion and it
wouldn’t have happened without help. I, along with the other members of the
parish government, have been working to make changes in Maison Rouge. As you
all know, our reliance on the oil industry has its ups and downs. While things
are good right now, they might not always be that way, which is why we’re
trying to turn our little corner of south Louisiana into a tourist attraction.”
He beamed, ignoring the sighs of boredom from the young crowd. “When we were
approached by the Pointe-Aux-Chat Festival Committee about bringing in bigger
headlining acts, we weren’t certain what the result would be, but it seems we
underestimated the committee’s esteemed chairman who brought us the band Saber
for this year’s festival.” The crowd cheered again.

Kitty struggled to hide her amusement as Mr. Fourchier
looked startled by the noise. Then his smile grew bigger. Poor man obviously
thought they were cheering for him. The silent shaking of Nick’s big body told
her that he found this amusing as well.

Mr. Fourchier preened. “They shot a music video at the
festival, which we’ll see tonight, but the good news didn’t stop there.” His
bright blue eyes zeroed in on Daisy and Ram. “The lead singer, Ramsey
Reinhardt, fell in love with and mated our very own Deputy Daisy Picou, and
he’s planning to make his home with us here in Maison Rouge.” The crowd started
up again, but Mr. Fourchier talked over them. “Even better, Ramsey has assured
me that he and the rest of the band are planning to set up a recording studio
here in town for not only their use, but any other bands who might be
interested in enjoying the special qualities our community has to offer.”

This time there was no talking over the screams of
excitement. Kitty glanced at Nick, who looked a little uneasy by the attention,
but kept it well hidden with a charming smile he aimed at the audience
surrounding them.

Mr. Fourchier was talking again, apparently overcome by the
excitement in the air. “There’s more information to come, but let me hand the
floor over to the man responsible for helping Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish by
bringing Saber to Maison Rouge, Monk Badeaux, Chairman for the Pointe-Aux-Chat
Festival Committee!”

Kitty’s entire body stiffened as a tall figure emerged from
the double doors leading to the locker rooms. She hadn’t been prepared for
this. Not at all. Since coming home, she’d made a point of not mentioning Monk
and had purposely turned her attention elsewhere when his name came up.

Daisy reached out again and gripped her hand. Kitty held on
to her cousin, needing her strength because God knew if she’d been standing,
she would have fallen to the ground in a crumpled mess. It wasn’t fair for him
to be sexier now than he’d been as an immature boy, but he was. He’d grown
taller and broader, his body fulfilling the promise his lanky frame had hinted
at years ago. His hair was cut a little shorter than it used to be, but it was
still thick and light brown. Monk’s face had lost its softness, turning lean
and hard, making him look like a young Clint Eastwood.

Kitty’s heart pounded and her mouth dried as Monk took Mr.
Fourchier’s place in front of nearly the entire town. Sharp green eyes scanned
the audience as he waited for the applause to die down and that’s when his gaze
snagged on Kitty. She felt closer than ever to the seventeen-year-old girl
who’d had to pull the shredded remains of her dignity around her. He looked so
remote and handsome and impossibly perfect. Kitty went back to that place, the
one where she realized she wasn’t good enough to win his love, but a squeeze on
her hand brought her back to herself.

Daisy.

Fifteen years later.

Kitty took a deep breath. She was no longer that insecure
little girl who’d given her heart to a male who didn’t deserve it. She was
Kitty Chambers, fashion designer, independent woman, feisty lover and grizzly
shifter. She was stronger than her memories and damn well strong enough to face
down the bastard who’d tried to make her a victim.

Kitty’s chin went up as she straightened in her chair, her
grip on Daisy’s hand less of a panicked hold and more of a clasp of friendship,
of love. She even let her lips curl in amused contempt at Monk’s continued
stare.

Fuck you, you bastard.

Monk couldn’t find his voice. Standing there in front of the
entire town of Maison Rouge, he lost all powers of speech because of the woman
sitting in the front row. Kitty Chambers here in the flesh and what beautiful,
perfect flesh it was.

He hadn’t recognized her at first, only noting a beautiful
woman sitting between Daisy and Nick, but the more he stared, the blanker his
mind became and the harder his heart pounded. There was no mistaking the sleek
cap of black hair, although it was much shorter than it’d been in high school.
His cougar mourned the loss of the long tresses, but Monk had to admit it
showed off her petite face and long, slender neck to perfection. It also helped
display her wide-spaced, dark eyes, making them the focal point of her dusky
face.

Had he ever paid that much attention to how gorgeous she
was? Or had he taken her for granted because he’d grown up with her, had seen
her with acne, with braces, with mud smeared all over her face. But he was
looking now and God, how could a cougar get so lucky?

His cock threatened to lift the fly of his slacks and the
applause had died out a few seconds ago, leaving an awkward silence behind.
Someone coughed and another person let out a nervous chuckle. But he couldn’t
stop looking at her, staring into her dark eyes. Even when those eyes went cold
and hard, the surprise fading away beneath the ire of furious predatory female.

“Did you forget your speech?” Mr. Fourchier whispered. As if
whispering did any good when the microphone picked up his words and broadcast
them to everyone in the gym, causing a few chuckles.

Monk looked away from Kitty, finding it almost impossible to
do so, especially when his cougar recognized her as its mate.
Down, boy,
we’ll get to her as soon as we finish this.
Momentarily appeased, the
cougar sat back, tail twitching with impatience.

His confidence came surging back and he smiled. “Sorry about
that, it’s been awhile since Mrs. Simmons’ speech class.” His old classmates
chuckled. “The Pointe-Aux-Chat Festival Committee has been working in close
association with the parish government to put Pointe-Aux-Chat on the map as a
tourist destination. We have a lot to offer the world, things that our
neighbors in New Orleans can’t.” He started pacing back and forth in front of
the big screen, his excitement growing. Giving his parish a way to generate
more income had become his reason for living ever since his father nearly lost
everything during the last oil bust and Kitty left Maison Rouge for greener
pastures.

Any hesitation he’d felt earlier vanished as he spoke with
increasing excitement about the changes coming to the parish. Words tumbled out
of his mouth, faster and faster, the crowd’s anticipation feeding his own.
These were good people who deserved to keep their way of life preserved. The
parish government had thought about knocking down buildings, developing marsh
and all other kinds of gimmicks to attract residents until Monk convinced them
that if they had a tourist trade, the residents would come on their own and
they wouldn’t have to weaken their ecosystem to do it.

He’d watched far too many parishes lose the natural
resources that made south Louisiana a mecca for shifters by attempting to
become more modern, but in doing so only managed to destroy themselves.
Thousands and thousands of acres of untouched swamp and marsh protected the
little town of Maison Rouge from hurricanes, but it also provided hunting
grounds and areas for shifters who needed to let their beasts stretch. Monk
wanted to keep Pointe-Aux-Chat as unspoiled as possible and keep jobs coming
in.

Several of the people he’d talked to through the years
expressed interest in hosting boarders, some of them going so far as to expand
their homes to turn them into bed and breakfasts. They didn’t want big hotel
chains to come in with their massive parking lots and unattractive buildings.
Everyone wanted the town to retain the old-world look their ancestors had
built.

Monk wasn’t sure how long he talked about the plans he and
the parish government were in the process of following, but when he stopped,
the gym was silent. Coming back to himself, he looked around to see the young
people looked bored, but the older crowd seemed just as excited as he felt.
They were the ones who feared losing their kids to the lure of the big cities
where jobs were plentiful. The plan to bring tourism to Maison Rouge would mean
more jobs and more opportunities for the younger generation.

Satisfied he’d gotten his message across, he couldn’t resist
glancing Kitty’s way only to see her snuggled next to Nick, her eyes closed. If
Monk had been in his cougar form, the fur on his entire body would have puffed
up. His cat let out a feral, subvocal snarl at the tiger who was entirely too
close to his mate. Nick inclined his head at Monk, not seeming to realize he
was on the verge of being maimed.