The Billionaire Jaguar's Curvy Journalist: BBW Panther Shifter Paranormal Romance (11 page)

She didn’t have to resort to cheating to have a great story. Her own work would prove that.

She was well into the zone by the time she finished the final paragraph. She printed it out to look over the draft. She felt completely confident about her work. The writing had flowed so well.

She sorted through the pens at her desk, trying to find her favorite red one. She’d put it on there at one point—had it rolled off?

She was under the desk looking for the damn thing when she heard a knock at the door. “Coming,” she called. Was it Paul? A little part of her hoped he had come to see her anyway, no matter what she’d said. Even though she’d probably be annoyed with him if it was really him.

Well, who said love had to be rational, right?

She didn’t have a chain or a peephole. The neighborhood was safe and she’d always had good neighbors, the kind of people who’d come running if they thought anything was wrong.

She didn’t recognize the man in the suit. He was tall, a little taller than Paul, with gray hair and steel blue eyes. “Miss Bailey?”

“Um, yes. What is—can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so.” His smile was warm, but it was a false warm. “May I come in? I’d like to speak with you about something...a bit personal.”

“What?”

“A mutual friend of ours,” he said. “Paul.”

Paul?
“Do you mean Paul Larson? I did an interview with him earlier in the week.” Was this man the shifter she’d seen earlier? Maybe this man was someone Paul would want to know. Even if he wasn’t, she wasn’t sure she could tell him no without rousing even more suspicion. She stepped back and let him in.

“Well,” he said, stepping forward, a little too close. “That’s what I’d like to talk with you about.” He extended his hand. I’m Abe Garner. I work at Brisbane Chemical, and we’ve had trouble with an environmental terrorist near our site.”

Abby shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Garner. I really don’t know what that would have to do with me. Or Mr. Larson.”

“Our property borders the Whitefin Lake territory. An animal—a jaguar—has been caught on camera in conjunction with several acts of sabotage. Acts that could potentially harm the lake.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” she said.

“We’ve increased security as a result of this,” he continued. “Video, audio surveillance. They’re pretty sensitive.” He was well into her space. She wanted to back away from him, but she wouldn’t. Whatever he was trying to say, it wouldn’t look good if she started backing down.

“I’m still really not sure what this has to do with me.”

“You were at the site today,” he said. “Our audio surveillance caught you saying a name, just as the jaguar appeared. ‘Paul.’”

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. “I know a lot of Pauls,” she said. “And that’s public property you’re recording on. Not yours.” Her mind was whirring. What exactly had Brisbane been up to? A legitimate company would call the cops. Not track her down like this.

“We’re within our rights to capture anything within a reasonable distance on public property,” he said. “The lake is public property. That’s why we’re concerned about this individual—”

“If you have an accusation to make, go ahead and make it,” she said. It was maybe a little stupidly brave, but she still felt good about saying it.

He wasn’t pretending to be warm any more. His jaw was set and his eyes were cold. “You know Paul Larson,” he said. “He’s one of our competitors. He could easily be the person making our lives difficult...and if you know his secret, you can easily be a person who could persuade him to stop.”

“This is—” She shook her head. “I don’t understand what you think you want from me. And I don’t think I can give it to you.”

“I think you can,” he said. He opened his suit coat and she could see the butt of his gun showing. “Now, it’s customary to warn you not to scream at this point,” he said. “I won’t kill you—you’re too useful to me for that—but I can make things very, very painful for you.”

She had no doubt from his voice that he was sure he could do just that.

It felt like she was caught in some kind of nightmare. Who was this man? She’d heard plenty of rumors about Brisbane Chemical, but she hadn’t ever imagined they’d hire the kind of people who would pull guns on people. Who the hell would do that?

This couldn’t be real.

Maybe it was a stunt.

Maybe Tina had hired a stripper?

No, that was ridiculous. Tina wouldn’t—even if she had, she wouldn’t know all this—

“Now,” he said. “You’re going to come with me, and we’re going to talk. And then we’ll have a little chat with your jaguar friend.”

She stepped back, out of instinct more than anything else, and he grabbed her arm before her foot hit the floor. He was fast, and his grip was tight. “Right now,” he said. “We’re going down the stairs, and out the back door. Remember. No screaming. No trying any tricks. Where’s your phone?”

“I don’t remember,” she lied. “I put it down, somewhere.”

“Guess I’ll have to check your pockets,” he said, pulling her closer. “Just to be sure.”

“I—it might be by my desk,” she stammered. She didn’t want this creep touching her at all.

He glanced over. “That better be your only phone,” he snarled. “Or you’ll have a lot more problems than you’re planning on.”

“It—it is,” she said. She sure wasn’t going to lie to him about that.

He dragged her toward the door.

“Can I put my shoes on?”

“Just keep moving,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”

She was going to be murdered, and she was going to be murdered in her bare feet. It shouldn’t bother her, it should be the least of her problems, but damn it, she wanted at least to have a nice pair of flats on.

He started pulling her through the door. “Don’t slow down,” he warned, “or there’s going to be a problem.”

Her heart was pounding. This can’t be real, she thought. This can’t be happening.

But it felt real enough.

“I should shut my door,” she said. “Someone might think—”

He kicked the door viciously shut.

“No more from you,” he said. “Not until we’re in the car.”

What would you do if I did scream? He probably could think of a lot of ways to hurt her. He didn’t seem particularly imaginative, but you didn’t need imagination when it came to making people hurt. She knew that well enough.

He had the gun pressed to the small of her back. “Keep moving,” he said. “Don’t hesitate or it’ll cost you.”

She nodded. She hoped the back stairs were clean. Bad enough she was going to die. She didn’t need to die with a cut on her foot.

They walked toward the door. Abby could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She was going to die in bare feet for a jaguar shifter she didn’t even know. She could laugh if she didn’t want to cry so much.

“Open it,” the man commanded when they reached the door.

She turned the knob of the heavy metal door. The stairs looked...well, no dirtier than usual. She’d have to settle for that.

“You first,” he said.

She took a step onto the landing and something happened behind her. The gun that had been pressed into her back was suddenly gone.

And then—

She heard the man cry out.

She spun around.
What had just happened?

Paul had just happened. He was in jaguar form, pinning the man down, thick, powerful claws sunk into the arm that had held the gun. The gun itself was now on the floor. She grabbed it.

She couldn’t call him by name. The man already suspected way too much about Paul. “I—I don’t know who you are,” she stammered. “But—but if you can understand me, keep him there. I’m going to call the police.”

She ran back to her apartment and called 911.

Paul had moved so quietly. She hadn’t heard anything at all. But that was what a cat did, wasn’t it? They watched and waited in the shadows.

Whoever this guy was, he hadn’t suspected a thing.

She felt a surge of admiration for Paul. He’d done more than just protect her—he’d done it without hurting anyone. Well, maybe the man’s arm hurt. But he kind of deserved that.

Paul was still sitting on the man when she came back, as content as a cat guarding a favorite toy.

“When you hear the sirens,” she said. “You should go. He says there’s been a jaguar around messing with their stuff. He might accuse you of—I don’t know. Doing whatever he’s angry about. Just go, so you’ll be safe.”

“It’ll be your word against mine, then,” the man said. Paul shifted his weight and put a paw directly on the man’s throat.

“So I just randomly picked a man up off the street, stole his gun, and accused him of trying to kidnap me?” She shook her head. “Do you really think that’ll work?” Now that the crisis was over, she could breathe more normally. Think more normally. “No. You came here, you threatened me, and you were ready to do—I don’t even know what. No one’s going to believe you. But they might be really interested in what you told me about that jaguar, and what he was doing. They might want to take a careful look at that company of yours.” Maybe she didn’t know the second jaguar, but she could guess. There’d been an investigation of Brisbane a while back. That cat was looking for something. Maybe he’d even found it. And Abby would bet cold hard cash that it wasn’t anything good.

“No,” the man said. “No one’s gonna believe you when I’m done. We’ve got plenty of lawyers who’ll make you look like a cheap, desperate fame whore. You work for this tiny little paper, probably were ready to make anything up for a scoop—”

His words cut off with a choking sound. Paul must have been pressing harder against his throat.

“You can tell the cops whatever you want,” Abby said. “I don’t think I’m the one who’s going to come off badly.”

She could hear the police sirens in the distance. They were coming fast. No big surprise after what she’d told them.

She looked at the jaguar. “You’d better go.”

Paul shook his head. She could read his body language: Not yet.

She didn’t want him to risk discovery. But she couldn’t deny she felt safer with him pinning this guy down. “All right,” she said. “But...don’t stay too long, whoever you are.”

Paul made...well, it was almost a chirruping sound, like a housecat would make when it was saying hello.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.

“You’re working with it,” the man said. “You’ve been—” Another strangling sound.

“Don’t kill him!” Abby squeaked. She wanted to know what he’d been doing. What Brisbane had been doing.

Paul paused for a second, then darted away like—well, like a cat. Abby could already hear the officers in the building.

Abby held the gun on the man, who immediately put a hand up to his throat. It looked like it was already starting to bruise. “Don’t move,” she said. Could she shoot him if she had to?

After what he’d done to her, probably.

Maybe in the kneecap or something. They did that in the movies.

The door to the back stairwell opened, and a man in uniform came through. It was Gary, one of the patrol officers—he must have been closest. What a relief.

“Thank goodness,” she said, and started lowering her gun.

“Abby?” he said. He looked flabbergasted.

“Hi,” she managed. “This man—”

The man had gotten to his knees while she’d been distracted—she’d let her guard down!—and moved toward Gary.

“No,” she said, and pulled the trigger.

16

Paul was already in the woods when he heard the shot. His whole body tensed. Was she—

No. She was still alive, he could sense it. And he could sense no danger, not any more.

The police must have things under control.

He’d wait until they left and get his clothes and phone. The smarter choice would be to wait until dark, but he’d left Chris flying around the park, and while Chris could hang out for a long time, Paul didn’t want to leave him that long. At least his jaguar’s coat kept him safely hidden most of the time. And it was amazing how you could slip by people when they weren’t actively looking for a jaguar.

First he had to see Abby leave that building. He had to watch the police pull out—after all, they would be looking for a jaguar.

Until he saw her in one piece, he wouldn’t, couldn’t believe that she was safe. He had to be sure; his instincts weren’t enough. He needed the proof of his senses. Needed to see her face.

What had happened? The man had smelled strange. Chemical. Toxic. Paul hadn’t recognized his scent, but he didn’t often encounter people in both jaguar and human forms. It wasn’t easy to compare.

A sudden movement hit the corner of his eye. A bird, a big one—usually big birds knew better than to—

Oh.

Chris fluttered next to him, shook his feathers out, and turned human. “So,” he said. “I won’t stay here long, but I know you’ll understand me like this. She okay?”

“Safe,” he tried to say, and remembered he was still a cat. He settled for inclining his head.

“Where’d you park the car? I could change. Might be easier than standing out here naked.”

Paul shook his head. He couldn’t change yet. Not until Abby was safe. And Chris didn’t speak panther in bird or human form.

“Right,” Chris said. “Anyway, when you can talk we...we have stuff to talk about. I think I found out why people cared so much about that lake. Maybe why Abby’s in danger.”

Paul turned, just a little to Chris, hoping Chris would get the hint.

“You’re probably not going to be surprised when the words ‘Brisbane Chemical’ come up.”

No. That would explain the smell.

The back door to Abby’s apartment building opened, and Chris changed in a ruffle of feathers, flew up into the tree above Paul’s head.

The man came out first in handcuffs, a uniformed police officer on either side.

Then Abby followed. Her heart was still pounding, but she was safe, and she was calmer than he’d been when he’d come to rescue her.

She’d be all right.

She looked over, into the woods. Almost like she could see him through the trees.

She was his mate. Maybe she could.

He lowered his eyes toward her, then caught himself again.
She might be your mate, but she’s still a human. She won’t see it. She probably wouldn’t understand it if she could.