Page 32 of The Mating Frenzy

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In the moonlight,the Mountain Suds bar looked safe enough. Pacing the sidewalk, Kieran stared through the front window. The bar had a pine-paneled interior with two pool tables, and a long counter facing a mirror and glass shelves filled with liquor bottles. A few patrons sat at the counter, and a few more gathered at the tables and booths. They looked like regular Skins, clad in jeans. No rough and tumble bikers or hunter Skins. If they had guns, they were concealed. No rifles and no arrows like the kind that had felledKiera.

He checked his own appearance. Xavier had left him an entire wardrobe. Tonight he wore faded jeans with brown leather hiking boots, and a red and black checked flannel shirt that felt soft against his tight skin. Kieran rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, letting the cool air touch hisforearms.

After sleeping two hours in his cat suit, he felt confined in this human skin. Better get used toit.

Keeping an eye out for both Ella and the ugly crone-harpy he’d seen earlier, he paced. And then he smelled the delightful fragrance of crisp, sharp snowflakes and winterlilies.

Whirling, he greeted her. “Hello, Ella. Thank you for meetingme.”

His heart pounded as if he’d raced across a field, and his blood roared in his eardrums. She was so lovely, her dark hair spilling down her backside, her cheeks pink from the cool wind, her moss green eyes sparkling withlife.

“It’s cold out here. Why didn’t you wait inside?” sheasked.

“I didn’t want you going inside alone.” He held out his arm. “Shallwe?”

Ella gave him a shy smile. “You’re very gallant, SirKieran.”

Let’s hope you still feel the same way after I tell you what I really am, and who youare.

But he said nothing as he guided her over to a small corner table. Kieran knew he had only a few hours to make the best impression of hislife.

No pressure. None atall.

It had been a mostpleasant evening talking with Kieran. He had an intelligence she liked, and his knowledge of medieval history fascinated her. Even if his speech was a little stilted, he was polite andengaging.

And he made her laugh. When was the last time she’d laughed likethis?

Toolong.

When she’d questioned him about it, he’d given him a modest shrug and told her he was a student of ancienthistory.

Ella glanced at the clock, dismayed to discover it was nearly 2 a.m. Two hours they’d talked. She stifled a yawn, wishing she could stay longer. “I have to go and grab some shut-eye. I’m working the 10 a.m. shift atHarvey’s.”

He placed his palms flat on the wood table. “Who is thisHarvey?”

The bristling jealousy in his voice amused her. “Harvey’s is Harvey’s Home, a non-profit organization that raises money to help the homeless. It was founded by Alice and Walter Harvey, friends of mine. They died a few yearsago.”

Grief bit her. Alice and Walter had died a week after Walter delivered the eulogy for Ella’s father. Alice had been mild and modest. She’d avoided the limelight, letting her flamboyant husband get all the attention. Alice had been a good friend, always inquiring about Ella’s welfare, quietly slipping her food when money wastight.

She steeled her spine. Alice and Walter were dead and so was her father. All Ella could do was honor their memory by surviving and doing herbest.

“Harvey’s Home is now run by their son, Ed Harvey. He’s a preacher, like his father. I stuff envelopes, type correspondence and filereports.”

“Oh.” Kieran smiled. “A job. Shall I pick you up at your office tomorrow forlunch?”

A little thrill raced through her. Then she sighed. “I only get a half hour for lunch and I have to runerrands.”

“Then dinner tomorrow?” He reached over, covered her palm with his warm, strong one. A heady sexual awareness rushed through her. Such nice hands. They would feel amazing stroking her nakedskin.

Gently, she pulled her hand away. Ella sipped her white wine. “Look, Sir Kieran, you’re cute. I like you. But my life is far too busy fordating.”

“Then allow me to free time for you. Have you need of money? I can payyou.”

Outrage filled her and she fought the impulse to toss her drink into his handsome face. Itwasdamn good wine. “I’m not for sale. If you want a whore, try someplaceelse.”

Gripping her glass, she went to slide out of the booth. A strong hand clasped her wrist. “I have misspoke again, fair maiden. I only meant to offer help, not pay you for your body.” His gaze was intense. “I would never insult you like that, Ella. Nor would I ever pay you, or another woman, for sex. Women need to be protected, andcherished.”