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  Nervous as she was, her dedication shined through. That made her all the more fascinating.

  She continued by saying, “My grandfather was a large-animal veterinarian, and this used to be his ranch. When he retired, he turned it into an exotic cat rescue.”

  Noah already knew a bit of the background based on what he’d read on the Big Cat Canyon website, but he was curious to know more, especially with her relaying the details.

  He asked, “What motivated him to do that?”

  “He volunteered his services at other rescues, and he realized how grave the need was for more facilities like this. We have an on-site medical-care center that enables us to perform examinations and surgeries without transporting the cats. We provide exercise trails for the animals, too.” She waited a beat. “For our guests, we have picnic areas. We also have a gift shop.”

  Coffee mugs and plush toys didn’t interest him. Nonetheless, he was ready to start the tour.

  It began with the food preparation area, which was impressively spotless, with several employees already hard at work.

  Jenny said, “We prepare nutritionally balanced meat-based diets. They’re flash frozen with no by-products, hormones, antibiotics, or preservatives.” She added, “Felids are strict carnivores.”

  Noah remained deliberately quiet, allowing her to educate him about something he knew far too well. He was part “felid” and he was carnivorous as hell.

  She went on to say, “A felid is a member of the felidae family, which is the biological family of cats, and felids belong to two subfamilies: pantherinae and felinae.”

  Once again he stayed silent. She’d yet to relax in his presence, and he reveled in the anxious sound of her breathing and the pulse that beat quickly at her neck.

  “Sorry.” She made a face. “Sometimes I get carried away. Those words are probably just mumbo jumbo to you.”

  “No, it’s interesting.” He pushed the boundaries of who he was, playing his predatory game. “I’m curious—what are the scientific terms associated with mountain lions?”

  “They belong to the felinae subfamily. Their genus and species name is Puma concolor, but it used to be Felis concolor.”

  Noah considered himself a subspecies. A hybrid, for lack of a better description.

  She tilted her pretty little head. “Are mountain lions your favorite exotic cat?”

  As if he had a choice. “Yes.”

  She continued the lesson. “Aside from the scientific terms, they have a slew of other names. The Guinness Book of World Records recognizes them as the animal with the most names. The most common is cougar, of course.”

  “And here I thought a cougar was an older woman who dated younger men.”

  She wrinkled her nose, and they both laughed. Apparently she didn’t like the urban slang definition any better than he did.

  A moment later, she said, “Some of the other names are puma, catamount, mountain screamer, painter, mountain demon, mountain devil, ghost cat, sneak cat, Florida Panther, Indian devil—”

  “Like me?” He made another deliberately bad joke, but it wasn’t intended to be funny and neither of them laughed. “I’m from the Seminole Nation.”

  She studied him. “So you’re Native American?”

  “Yes, but I lived in Mexico for quite a while. I’m fluent in Spanish. I speak the Mvskoke language, too. But it’s been a long time since I used it.” He didn’t fit into modern Seminole society. He didn’t fit anywhere, except for the environment he’d created for himself. “I descend from the Tiger Clan.”

  “Oh.” She made a perplexed expression. “But you’re more interested in mountain lions?”

  “In the old days the Seminole referred to mountain lions as ‘tigers.’”

  “I knew that European explorers mistook them for tigers, but I wasn’t aware of Seminole history.” She offered to oblige him. “Would you like to head over to see the mountains lions now? We have two that live here.”

  “I’d rather see the other cats first.” Noah wanted to save the most important for last.

  The tour continued with an introduction to a four-hundred-pound Bengal tiger. She was obviously still thinking about his association to the Tiger Clan, even if he wasn’t connected to the animal in a literal sense.

  They stood on the other side of the tiger’s compound and watched it sleep.

  “His name is Ankal,” Jenny said. “It means ‘whole’ in Hindu. We chose that for him because when we rescued him he was broken, physically and emotionally, and we strived to make him whole. He came from an abusive situation.”

  Noah gazed at the napping tiger. He seemed content, or as content as a captive-bred creature could be.

  “When he first arrived, he used to hide in his den when the keepers approached his enclosure. Now he plays in his pool when they’re around, splashing and showing off.”

  Ankal yawned as if he was bored by the conversation. Noah quirked a smile. Jenny did, too.

  She remarked, “In the wild, tigers hunt between dusk and dawn and consume between thirty to ninety pounds of food at one sitting.”

  “How do they make a kill?” He intended to ask her the same question about mountain lions when the time came, even if he knew as much as or more about them than she did. But that was part of the thrill, of what had led him to her.

  She responded, “Tigers stalk, chase, and attack, then bring down their prey with a bite to the nape of the neck or the throat. They’re considered man-eaters, too. They’ll consume human flesh.”

  “Ankal isn’t as timid as he looks.”

  “None of them are.”

  Noah knew that better than anyone.

  She interrupted the quiet. “Ankal’s best friend is an African lion named Larry. They explore the trails together.”

  “Larry the lion?”

  She laughed a little. “They don’t all have exotic names.”

  He considered the lion and tiger’s alliance. “They wouldn’t get along in the wild, would they?”

  “No. But it’s different when they’re in captivity.”

  He got curious about her social life. “What about you? Who’s your best friend?”

  She tucked a stray piece from her ponytail behind her ear, struggling, it seemed, to answer. Then she admitted, “I don’t have one. I’ve always been more of a loner.”

  So was he. But that was indicative of the subspecies he’d been turned into. There had been a time when he’d enjoyed sharing his life with other people, when he’d felt a gentle connection to humanity. But those feelings were long gone.

  Without further discussion, they proceeded on the tour, where more tigers were contained. They visited Larry the lion, too. After that, they stopped to admire two spotted leopards.

  “They belonged to a Las Vegas entertainer who struggled to give them up,” she said. “He treated them well and loved them. But he couldn’t make ends meet.”

  “Much in the way you’re having trouble keeping this place going?”

  Her blue eyes locked onto his. “Your generosity is making a difference.”

  “I haven’t given you the rest of the donation yet.”

  “I was talking about what you already provided.”

  “That’s not enough to keep you out of the red.”

  “The second half will be.”

  “There are going to be strings attached, Jenny.”

  Her breath rushed out. “What type of strings?”

  He suspected that she already knew it would be sexual, but he wasn’t ready to divulge the details. “We’ll talk about it later. Now, tell me about leopards. What’s unique about the manner in which they hunt?”

  She cleared her throat. “Sometimes they drag their kill into trees and hang them there. They’re the only big cat that does that.”

  Fascinated by the ever-thudding pulse at her neck, he moved closer to her. Instantly her body temperature rose. He could feel the heat.

  “They’re magnificent,” he said about the leopards,
but he could have been saying it about her, too.

  “People often mix them up with jaguars and cheetahs. But the cheetah is leaner and swifter, actually the fastest animal on land, with solids spots and tear marks running from its eyes to its mouth. And the jaguar—”

  “Is a car,” he interjected.

  She blinked, looking every bit the nervous scientist she was.

  He smirked. “Sorry; couldn’t help myself.”

  “No, it’s okay. I was prattling.”

  “And I have an XK convertible.”

  “Is that a Jaguar?”

  He nodded. “I’ll let you drive it sometime.”

  “I don’t think I’d be good at driving something like that.”

  “It doesn’t take any special skill.”

  She fussed with the loose strands of her hair, as she’d done earlier, trying to tuck them back into her ponytail. She changed the subject, too, returning to chatter mode. “Are you ready to meet the small cats? We have a bobcat and three African servals. Mountain lions are considered small cats, too, even if they’re the same size as some of the big cats.”

  “Really?” He acted surprised.

  “The major difference between small cats and big cats is the hyoid bone that connects the tongue to the roof of their mouth. In big cats it produces the ability to roar, but in smaller cats it doesn’t. Mountain lions can’t roar. But they can purr, like other small cats.”

  Noah could purr. He could do it with the best of them.

  Jenny took him to see the bobcat and the servals, and an affectionate female serval came up to the enclosure, eager for attention.

  “That’s Cookie,” Jenny said. “She’s as sweet as her name.”

  Typical of her breed, the cat resembled a cheetah, but smaller and with big pointed ears. “How did you acquire her?”

  “Her owner died and left her orphaned.”

  Noah had outlived his family, too, but after a century of being alone, he’d learned to suppress his memories.

  “Let’s go,” he said, letting her know he wanted to see the mountain lions.

  She took him down a winding path that led to their enclosures, and the sun zigzagged through the trees. But regardless of how good daylight felt upon his skin, he still felt cold inside.

  As he’d suspected, the mountain lions took an alert and territorial interest in him. Housed separately, they watched him through keen eyes.

  Then one of them let out a low growl.

  In the midst of the tension, Jenny glanced at Noah, seemingly aware of his catlike body language. No doubt she’d noticed his mannerisms from the start, only now they were more pronounced. He wasn’t able to help it.

  “That’s Valiente,” she said, a bit uncomfortably.

  “Valiant” in Spanish. “What’s his background?”

  “He came from a roadside zoo. He lived in a crate that was barely big enough for him to turn around in. He’s fearful of wide-open spaces because all he knew was being locked up in a small area. He won’t roam his full enclosure, but we’re hoping that someday he will.”

  “How long has he been here?”

  “About a year. He’s our newest member.” She motioned to the other one. “And this is our oldest resident, the first cat my grandfather saved. His name is Sandy. I chose it for him when I was a child.”

  Noah merely nodded. Mountains lions varied in hues, but most people would describe them as tan, beige, or sandy. The name fit, especially coming from a child.

  “They’re solitary animals,” she said. “Elusive. Males and females get together to mate, but that only lasts for a few days. Other than that, they avoid each other.” A slight pause, then, “I mentioned earlier that they can purr, but their vocabulary also includes whistles, chirps, and hisses.”

  As if for effect, Valiente growled again.

  She talked on. “They’re most known for their nails-on-a-chalkboard-type scream. That’s where the ‘mountain screamer’ name comes from. Females screech that way to let male lions know when they’re sexually receptive.”

  She glanced away, and he suspected that she’d never been uncomfortable saying “sexually receptive” in that context before. The scientist in her was faltering.

  He smiled to himself. “What are their hunting practices like?”

  “They’re ambush predators. They stalk their prey from hidden areas, then jump out and inflict a suffocating bite to the neck. With larger prey, they eat the heart and liver first and save the carcass for another meal.”

  He roamed his gaze over her. “Can you imagine having something eat your heart right out of your chest?”

  Her voice vibrated. “I’d prefer not to imagine it.”

  Aroused by her vulnerability, he said, “I want you to come to my place of business tomorrow night.”

  “What type of business is it?”

  “A private sex club.”

  Speechless, she all but stared at him.

  He ignored her reaction.

  She finally spoke. “I’m not going to have sex with a bunch of strangers. I’d never do that, not even to save the rescue.”

  “I have no intention of sharing you with anyone. My interest in you is personal. Intimate,” he added softly.

  She didn’t respond, but she shivered a little, making him want her that much more.

  He continued, “All that’s required of you tomorrow night is to come to the club. That’s all you have to do for the rest of the donation.”

  “You’re not going to expect me to sleep with you?”

  “No. But eventually I want you to be my lover.”

  “What if I never want to be with you?”

  “Then it won’t happen.”

  “But you’re going to try to seduce me so it does?”

  He was already seducing her. “There’s no harm in me trying, is there?”

  She went silent again. Then she asked, “What sorts of activities go on at this club of yours?”

  “Come there tomorrow night and find out.”

  “I want to know ahead of time. I want to know what to expect.”

  “Where’s the adventure in that?”

  “You’re not being fair.”

  No, he wasn’t. He was being an ambush predator, much like the mountain lions she’d just told him about. But since he was part lion, he was a natural ambusher. He couldn’t help it any more than a wild cat could. “If you want the rest of the donation, then come to the club. It’s as simple as that.”

  “This is an indecent proposal.”

  He shrugged. He was what he was. “I’ll send a town car for you. The driver will pick you up at nine, and you should arrive at the club around ten.” He roamed his gaze over her. “Wear something provocative.”

  She frowned. “I don’t have those sorts of clothes in my wardrobe.”

  Of course she didn’t. But that was part of what attracted him to her. He removed his wallet and extended a wad of cash. “Buy whatever you need.”

  She took a step back. “I—”

  He nudged the money toward her again. “Just do it. Enjoy making yourself pretty for me.”

  “This is out of my realm. Men like you are out of my realm.”

  And women like her were out of his. But he was tired of the girls from the club. He hungered for a more challenging prey, and Jenny was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

  He baited her. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you about it. Either come to the club or not. Take my offer or leave it.”

  She took it; she agreed to the terms of his indecent proposal, but she looked as pale as the moon on the night he’d been attacked all those years ago. Still, he knew that she wouldn’t back out.

  Jenny was in for the kill.

  Two

  The following afternoon, Jenny belabored her decision. Could she do this? Could she actually do it?

  She weighed her odds for the umpteenth time that day. If she didn’t get the rest of the donation, she stood to lose the rescue. The place Gr
andpa had built and the place she’d strived to maintain might be forced to close its doors.

  She’d become a zoologist to further her education and benefit Big Cat Canyon. She grew up on the rescue. It was her heart. Her soul. Her everything.

  One night at Noah’s club. One night and her financial struggle would end. With the money he was offering, the animals in her care would continue to have a safe and loving home. So, yes, she was absolutely, positively going to do this. She was going to get that damned donation from him and keep her rescue.

  Determined to follow through, she called Matt and asked him to help her prepare for the evening. What she’d told Noah about not having a best friend was true. She didn’t have anyone except Matt to confide in, and she involved him only because he’d already predicted that something like this was going to happen.

  Well, not exactly like this. Not the sex club angle.

  Hours later, Matt accompanied her to the mall in search of an outfit, and the end result was a short, shimmery white dress with a low-cut neckline. She’d bought some delicate lingerie to go with it because her usual underwear would have fit poorly beneath it. Her shoes were flesh-colored pumps, and her evening bag complemented the shoes and dress, or so she’d been told. She’d relied on the salesgirl’s opinion to help her put it all together.

  Since she didn’t have a clue how to do her hair or makeup, she’d gone to a fancy salon and let them work their supposed magic.

  Noah had told her to enjoy making herself pretty for him, but she wasn’t having the least bit of fun. In fact, as she stood in front of the mirror in her room, she felt ridiculous.

  Her hair was a mass of blond fluff, way too big and way too full. Her pink lips and smoky eyes looked weird, too.

  Matt knocked on her bedroom door and called out, “Are you ready yet?”

  She called back, “Yes, you can come in.”

  He entered the room, clutching a bowl of microwave popcorn. “Dang, cuz.”

  “I know. I look stupid.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s hot. Just enough to make you innocently sexy. Virgin white with bedroom hair.”

  “Really?” She tugged at the open neckline of her dress. White, maybe, but virginal? “I don’t have enough boobs to hold this up.”