Wild on You (3 page)

“Sorry. When I’m at my father’s house, I’m used to requests being worded as orders.” She gave him a gut-tightening, genuine smile. “Please.”

Anything, doll
. Yeah, those words had just about slipped out.

He looked at the kitten, which had sharp-as-shit teeth; he knew personally because it had thought his finger was the bottle’s nipple and clamped on. He bit back a
curse and shoved the nipple at the cat. “What is this thing? A tiger?”

She shot him a playfully derisive look. “It’s a bobcat kitten. Too much for you?”

He took in the adorable face of the suckling cat. Then the puncture wounds on his finger. Yeah, as docile as the woman sitting next to him. He gave her a pointed look. “I can handle her.”
Both hers
.

“That remains to be seen.” She gave him a challenging look and buckled up. “Her name is Freedom. One of my supporters found three kittens on his land, no sign of the mom. They were emaciated and covered in fleas. I found a cat sanctuary that will raise them so they can be returned to the wild, but the habitat won’t be ready for another week. I’m in charge of them until then. The other two are with a different foster mom.”

Freedom was kneading Risk with her claws, purring away while puncturing his thighs. If the critter shifted a half inch, things could get dicey. Literally.

“She likes you,” Addie said, staring at the kitten.

“You say that like you’re surprised. Females love me.” He gave her the smile that made every woman he’d used it on smile back. And sometimes more. Heck, even grandmas responded.

She frowned instead. “I’ll bet you use that smile as your pickup line.”

He felt the smile fade. “Okay, I believe you. You’re gay.”

Addie started the engine and pulled out. She handled the vehicle like a pro, taking corners efficiently without sending the van into tilt. Her arms were toned, though he doubted she did curls at a gym. She kept her attention on the road, studiously ignoring him. He wasn’t about to let her get away with that.

“Have a girlfriend?” he asked.

Her eyes shifted to him briefly. “Shirley. She’s my partner in Animal Huggers.”

“Shirley.”

He attached a hot redhead to the name and sank into a fantasy about the pinup girl and Addie tangling in the sheets of one of those outdoor beds by the sea. He walked up the steps into the private cabana and gave them the smile. Addie whispered something to Shirley, who nodded, and both women looked at him with hungry eyes. That same
hunger he’d seen in Addie’s eyes earlier. Addie crooked her finger at him.

“Oh, stop that.”

Her snapping voice jerked him right out of the scene. “Stop what?” Good thing the cat was on his lap, even with its claws.

“You’re fantasizing about me and some fictionalized version of Shirley, aren’t you? And we’re inviting you to join us, I bet.”

Damn, no wonder he always lost at poker. No point in denying it, he supposed. “And you interrupted before I got to the good part.”

“If two women are interested in each other, what makes you think they’ll want some guy pushing in on their action?”

“Good question. But hey, it is a fantasy, after all.”

She let out a breath, which made her bangs bounce. “I’m not gay.”

Something in his chest twanged. Something lower twanged, too, and he realized that it was much better to see her as unavailable. “I won’t fantasize about you and your girlfriend anymore. It was disrespectful.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m
not
gay. I told my father I was because he was always trying to settle me down with some boring guy. It just sort of came out of my mouth in my frustration one night after the umpteenth ‘Look who happened to stop by, honey.’ I was only poking him, but he bought it. So I let him believe it, which I know was mean and terrible, but I was desperate at the time. Since Shirley
is
gay, and my best friend, I use her as my cover.”

His whole body was pulling toward her now, which was really bad. “You may think you’re pretending, but down deep inside, you do swing that way. And that’s perfectly fine. Better than fine.” He let his gaze scan her without giving away how hot she looked in that tight shirt. Or at least he hoped he didn’t give it away. “You’ve got gay written all over you by the …” Except words failed him, because there was nothing but straight goodness as far as the eye could see.
Come on, don’t fight me on this. Play along
.

“By what?”

He gestured vaguely at her head, groping for something to point out as evidence.
“By that certain light in your eyes and the way you move.”

Her mouth was getting tighter, her face redder. “By
what
light? And what way I move?” She came to a stop at a red light and turned to him.

He shrugged. “It’s just a vibe. I can’t put my finger on it.”

She shifted the van into park, leaned over, and plastered her mouth against his. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in, and the moment his lips involuntarily parted, she plunged her tongue inside. Oh, buddy, she was so straight. His hands went to her waist, but he was too busy concentrating on the feel of her tongue against his to pay attention to whether his fingers could go all the way around.

When she started to pull away, he held her fast for another trip around her mouth. Finally, she smacked his shoulders, and he let her go. She fell back into her seat, rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth. Her breaths were coming faster.

Now he was really glad the cat was covering his lap. “All right, I believe you.”

Her eyes went from dreamy to narrowed. “You played me, didn’t you?”

He rubbed his forehead. “I was hoping we could go with the gay angle while I’m guarding your body. I mean, acting as your bodyguard. I was desperately hanging on.”

She frowned. “You want me to be gay?”

“Very much.”

“And … why?”

“Because you’re hot and you’re my client, and those two facts are a bad combination as far as my professional integrity is concerned. Why did you need to prove that you’re straight?”

“I …” Her mouth twisted as she seemed to search for the answer. “I don’t know. The impulsive side of me didn’t want to perpetuate the myth with you. Why did you suspect I was lying to begin with?”

“Because you ate me up with your eyes when I was changing shirts.”

She somehow managed to roll her eyes and look embarrassed at the same time. “I suppose women go gaga over you all the time.”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say that if I find myself near an available woman who
revs my engine, we usually end up together.” His smile disappeared. “And you do. Which was why I realized that thinking you went the other way was actually a good idea. Light’s green.”

A horn blared behind her. She put the van into gear and pulled forward. “Well, no worries. That thing that happened between us, not happening again.”

“No siree.” He shook his head to further convince himself, because his body was having none of it. “I’m new to this civilian-bodyguard business, but I assume it would be unprofessional to bang my client.”

“Bang …” She blew out a breath of indignation, which made her horse do the same. “Aren’t you are the romantic?”

“Sorry.” He gave her a wooden smile. “
Making love
. Like that better?”

“I bet you’ve never
made love
in your life. But I’m sure you’ve
banged
plenty.”

No, he probably hadn’t made love to a woman, not with the appropriate feelings to match those words. He would comment only on the last part. “I don’t think I’ve, ah, indulged any more than the average guy.”

She arched her eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. “Wow, you do have some modesty in there. Wait a minute. You said I revved your engine?”

He replayed his earlier words. Yep, he sure had. “In an off-limits manner of speaking.”

“And keep it that way. You’re totally not my type.”

“Good.” Before the words
and what is your type
could come out of his mouth, she went on.

“You’re too arrogant. Too good-looking. Clearly a player, and I have no idea how to play that game, nor any interest in doing so. Besides, I have more important things on my plate than satisfying the hunger of my flesh.”

She had to go and put it that way, didn’t she? He focused on the second part of that sentence. “More important things like staying alive, I presume?”

“Like saving animals.”

Oh, buddy, he wished she did play for the other team. Because protecting that
beautiful body wrapped around all that sass was going to be boo-coops harder now that he’d tasted her sweet mouth.

Addie wanted to deck him. Flat-out deck him and then punch him and then … kiss him.
No! You do not want to kiss him again. Well, mostly you don’t
.

Why’d she go and tell him she was straight? That cover had saved her interminable hours of boring conversations, and now this man who technically worked for her father knew her secret.

She surreptitiously glanced his way. The guy was a player, all right. He oozed confidence, and why shouldn’t he? Risk was built for sin, over six feet of solid muscle, short brown hair, and hazel eyes that were both world-weary and playful. She wasn’t sure how he pulled that off. Probably worked at it in front of a mirror for weeks. He had great hands, and the feel of them on her waist had shot heat through her. If Freedom hadn’t been on his lap, she might have crawled onto it herself.

Bad idea, Addie. He’ll mess with your head and your heart and leave you a mess when he moves on to the next conquest
.

She needed to focus. The animals were more important than her love life. An activist friend of hers had fallen in love, leaving little time for the golden retriever rescue organization she’d founded while they dated and married; she’d lost her passion completely when he left her. Addie had decided long ago that giving up romance and family was worth pursuing her life’s purpose. Nuns did it for their religion. Some corporate climbers did for their careers.

She thought of her mom, who was often torn between parental obligations and the charities whose boards she sat on.
Sometimes we have to sacrifice the things we want to do for the things we need to do. I’m sorry to miss your play, honey, but this event was set up long ago. You know I’ll be there in spirit
.

Back then Addie didn’t know what sacrifice meant. So she’d wished with all of her heart that her mother could spend more time with her. Then she got her wish—in the
most terrible way. Her mother grew tired and frail, hardly leaving the house unless it was to go to a doctor’s appointment. Addie was sure she’d given her mother cancer with her selfish desires. Addie had learned the meaning of sacrifice and given up everything she wanted in order to get what she needed: her mom well. She’d put her wishing power to work every day. But she’d failed.

Risk lifted the empty bottle. “The kitten’s asleep.”

Darn, if he didn’t look sexy-adorable with Freedom curled up on his lap, a content smile on her furry little lips.
Wouldn’t you like to be there instead?

No, no, no!

“Do you want to put her in her crate?” she asked.

He set the bottle aside. “She’s fine now that she’s not kneading me.”

Very sharp claws. Risk’s lap. She winced in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“No kidding. Cute little spitfire, though. Sweet but full of sass.”

Watching his long fingers stroking her fur made Addie tingle in places that had no business tingling. Then she realized he’d been looking at her when he made that assessment, not the kitten.

She averted her gaze to the road. “That’s why I do what I do. I don’t see them as just animals but as God’s creatures, like we are.”

“Seeing them as that is one thing.” He ran his finger down the bridge of Freedom’s nose, and she curled up even tighter. “Protecting them, great. Doing crazy stunts that put your life in danger, a little over the edge.”

She tamped down the anger at his assertion. “What kinds of things did you do in the SEALs? Sneak into enemy territory? Rescue hostages?”

“Along with detonating bombs, blowing off doors with explosives, all kinds of fun stuff. But that was for my country.”

“To save lives, accomplish something.” She nodded toward Freedom. “Same thing I do, except the lives I save are furry.”

He was giving her his full attention now. “Is that what drives you? To accomplish?”

“My father was a five-star general. My mother was the force behind her charities’ most successful events. I have a lot to live up to.”

“You know, the guys who signed up for the SEALs training program out of a need to prove themselves to someone else were usually the first to ring the bell. To drop out.”

“What about the guys who needed to prove themselves to themselves?”

“In the end, they failed, too. It has to come from somewhere deeper.” He tilted his head. “So which is it for you? Are you trying to live up to your parents’ achievements? Or prove your worth to yourself?”

It felt as though he were jabbing her soul with a stick. “I want to contribute something to the world. So you find detonating bombs … fun?”

“A couple weeks ago, I was BASE jumping from an altitude of over twenty thousand feet off Trango Towers in Pakistan.
That
was just for fun.”

“What’s BASE jumping?”

“BASE stands for ‘building, antenna, span, and earth.’ It’s an offshoot of skydiving, where you jump off stationary objects. Last month I leaped off a mountain in Norway. Danger, excitement, accomplishment. I need the adrenaline rush.”

“Why?”

The question seemed to take him off guard. Then he shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an adrenaline junkie.”

“You used the word
need
, not
want
. Yet you seem like more than a shallow guy who lives for visceral thrills.”

He seemed to consider his response, then glanced away. “Things got tough after my mother died when I was six.” His jaw tensed. “I numbed myself. For a kid, it’s easier to do that than deal. But you forget how to feel at all. Swinging from a rope out the second-floor barn opening or playing chicken with tractors was, ironically, a safe way for me to feel … something. The year after I graduated, I was that shallow guy. I traveled all over the country, skydiving, BASE jumping, mountain climbing. But you can almost die for no good reason only so many times before it starts to seem stupid.”