A Serengeti Christmas by Vivi Andrews Page A

snow ball fights—but there was a
chill in the air. The night was clear and still, like the world was
holding its breath, waiting for Christmas morning.
    She remembered that feeling from when she was
a little girl—the hold-your-breath eagerness, the certainty that
something wonderful was coming, so soon she could hardly sit still
waiting for it. It felt like forever since she‘d felt that way. Was
it fifteen years? Twenty? Certainly before her father died and her
mother became the pride lush.
    Now a new kind of electric anticipation
churned through her.
    Shana scuffed her feet along the dirt path as
she strolled toward Caleb‘s bungalow, intentionally slowing her
steps to draw out the anticipation.
    Caleb probably wouldn‘t welcome her with open
arms when she showed up on his doorstep, but that was half the
appeal—and the reason she kept coming back to him, year after year,
no matter how impossible a happily ever after between them might
be. She‘d never been able to walk all over him. If she pushed him,
he pushed back, harder and faster.
    Shana realized she was rushing, practically
running up the path, and forced her feet to slow again, prowling
with the deliberate grace of a lioness instead of the foolish
eagerness of a kitten.
    Behind her, a new song blared out of the
dining hall into the night. It came upon a midnight
clear…
    Shana snickered to herself and added an extra
swing to her hips. Who knew Christmas carols could be so dirty?
    She prowled up onto the porch of Caleb‘s
bungalow, struck a Marilyn pose and knocked her fist against the
door. Come to mama, loverboy.
    * * * * *
    Caleb Minor answered the knock on the door to
find Shana wearing a low-cut scarlet tank-top and
leave-no-curve-unhugged jeans. Her red curls tumbled loose and wild
around her shoulders. She held mistletoe above her head and had a
wicked twinkle in her eyes. That alone was trouble on so many
levels Caleb didn‘t even know where to begin. And then the scent of
her hit his nostrils and his brain short-circuited.
    Fuck, she’s in heat.
    He knew he should tell her to get her rocks
off with someone else and slam the door in her pretty little face,
but his brain couldn‘t seem to transmit that message to the rest of
his body. Instead, he stood there, rooted to the spot as his body
reacted the way it always did to the scent and sight of her,
hardening from one breath to the next.
    Shana propped a shoulder against the doorjamb
and batted her big green eyes at him. “Aren‘t you going to invite
me in, Cale?” she purred.
    “No. What the fuck do you want?”
    From the look in her eyes, he could see she
was tempted to tell him that a fuck was exactly what she wanted.
She must have known that in his current mood that would get her
thrown out on her ass, though, because instead of overt temptation,
a deceptive flicker
    of vulnerability crossed her expression. “I
miss you, Caleb. It‘s Christmas Eve. Aren‘t you ever lonely on
Christmas?”
    His chest tightened. How did she always know
exactly what to say to stab him right through the heart?
    He‘d been thinking exactly that before she
knocked on his door—how lonely he was. How much he missed her and
the way things were between them before she became so obsessed with
deposing Leonus and claiming the position of the new Alpha‘s mate.
Christmas had turned him into a goddamn sentimental sap.
    He knew better than anyone that Shana
wouldn‘t stay with him if he refused again to challenge Leonus.
She‘d be out the door so fast she‘d leave skid marks, leaving him
alone and broken again. Shana‘d made an art form out of breaking
his heart.
    His fingers tightened around the wood of the
door, readying to slam it in her face.
    She reached out and laid her hand over his on
the door. “Cale, I don‘t want to be alone,” she said softly. “Can I
come in? Please?”
    He was an idiot. This was a new record for
stupidity, but she smelled so damn good, and it was Christmas,
after all, and, if