dreams could get pretty vivid. Luc followed her closely, watching the smooth sway of her shapely hips as he listened to that damned cat cry. But he could handle the feline theatrics for the chance of watching that pert little ass bump and sway across his ranch yard. And he owed her. He was well aware of why she had walked into his back earlier.
He had felt the heat of her gaze on his ass as he walked in front of her. It had been a bit disconcerting, a sensation he wasn’t used to. Never had he felt a woman watching him like that, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where her look was directed. And he was fairly confident she was pleased with what she was watching. But no more than he was.
He smirked as he noticed her efforts to control the ultra feminine sway of her hips. Could she feel his gaze as well? Hell, yes she could, he thought a second later, refusing to believe he was the only one in torment. That would not be acceptable.
He couldn’t remember Catarina inspiring this hunger in him two years before. He had been amused. Hell, he had been willing to fuck the tempting little redhead, but he hadn’t hungered for her. He hungered for her now. If he didn’t trust Joe so damned much, he would half suspect she really wasn’t the woman who had gone to her knees with an experience he couldn’t imagine her possessing now.
Luc shook his head as they neared the porch of the ranch house. The cat wailed again. Dammit, that fat black excuse for a mouse chaser was going to be in his house, shedding on his furniture, likely eating his food and tormenting the hell out of him. And only God knew what his wolf hybrid, Lobo, was going to think of the addition to the house. He only hoped his canine friend was as well trained as he had tried to teach him to be. Otherwise, that cat would be wolf chow and an unpleasant memory in a matter of hours.
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t that the punishment was onerous; it was that the situation was pissing her off, Melina thought as she prepared to sneak out of the house. Cleaning house was child’s play, and cooking was one of her favorite hobbies. Not that she had let Mr. Neanderthal know that. She had stayed mulishly silent, procrastinated, shot him ill looks as he watched her and generally did her best to get out of whatever work he assigned her after the confrontation the day before. She could tell it was no more than he expected.
She loved the house. But it wasn’t her house and she wasn’t Maria, and she sure as hell didn’t think much of his stubbornness and refusal to hear the truth. Furthermore, she wasn’t going to calmly bow her head and accept his idea of punishment. She was finished with playing Maria the day she had nearly died in that jail cell.
“Come on, Mason,” she whispered as she lifted the fat cat and slid him carefully into the sling she had made of one of the pillowcases. She wasn’t about to toss him down two stories. He would never forgive her, and it would be her luck instead of landing on his feet he would probably end up landing on his oversized head.
The bed sheets were tied together and anchored to the heavy leg of the bed, giving her just enough room to slide down to about a four-foot drop below the end of the sheet. Mr. Know-it-all had locked the door to her bedroom but he had forgotten about the windows, she snickered.
Mason sighed his little breath of boredom as she slid the sling to her back and crawled over the window ledge. Gripping the sheet she slid carefully down its length until she was forced to let go of the material and drop the final distance.
She landed easily and smiled in triumph. She had no idea where she was, but she would find out fast enough. There was a road that led to the house, and roads always ran into towns some damned place. It might take a while to walk out of there, but at least she was free. Free of Lucas Jardin’s sexy drawl, the heat that emanated from his big body and his sexy smile. Free from the temptation those
He had felt the heat of her gaze on his ass as he walked in front of her. It had been a bit disconcerting, a sensation he wasn’t used to. Never had he felt a woman watching him like that, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where her look was directed. And he was fairly confident she was pleased with what she was watching. But no more than he was.
He smirked as he noticed her efforts to control the ultra feminine sway of her hips. Could she feel his gaze as well? Hell, yes she could, he thought a second later, refusing to believe he was the only one in torment. That would not be acceptable.
He couldn’t remember Catarina inspiring this hunger in him two years before. He had been amused. Hell, he had been willing to fuck the tempting little redhead, but he hadn’t hungered for her. He hungered for her now. If he didn’t trust Joe so damned much, he would half suspect she really wasn’t the woman who had gone to her knees with an experience he couldn’t imagine her possessing now.
Luc shook his head as they neared the porch of the ranch house. The cat wailed again. Dammit, that fat black excuse for a mouse chaser was going to be in his house, shedding on his furniture, likely eating his food and tormenting the hell out of him. And only God knew what his wolf hybrid, Lobo, was going to think of the addition to the house. He only hoped his canine friend was as well trained as he had tried to teach him to be. Otherwise, that cat would be wolf chow and an unpleasant memory in a matter of hours.
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t that the punishment was onerous; it was that the situation was pissing her off, Melina thought as she prepared to sneak out of the house. Cleaning house was child’s play, and cooking was one of her favorite hobbies. Not that she had let Mr. Neanderthal know that. She had stayed mulishly silent, procrastinated, shot him ill looks as he watched her and generally did her best to get out of whatever work he assigned her after the confrontation the day before. She could tell it was no more than he expected.
She loved the house. But it wasn’t her house and she wasn’t Maria, and she sure as hell didn’t think much of his stubbornness and refusal to hear the truth. Furthermore, she wasn’t going to calmly bow her head and accept his idea of punishment. She was finished with playing Maria the day she had nearly died in that jail cell.
“Come on, Mason,” she whispered as she lifted the fat cat and slid him carefully into the sling she had made of one of the pillowcases. She wasn’t about to toss him down two stories. He would never forgive her, and it would be her luck instead of landing on his feet he would probably end up landing on his oversized head.
The bed sheets were tied together and anchored to the heavy leg of the bed, giving her just enough room to slide down to about a four-foot drop below the end of the sheet. Mr. Know-it-all had locked the door to her bedroom but he had forgotten about the windows, she snickered.
Mason sighed his little breath of boredom as she slid the sling to her back and crawled over the window ledge. Gripping the sheet she slid carefully down its length until she was forced to let go of the material and drop the final distance.
She landed easily and smiled in triumph. She had no idea where she was, but she would find out fast enough. There was a road that led to the house, and roads always ran into towns some damned place. It might take a while to walk out of there, but at least she was free. Free of Lucas Jardin’s sexy drawl, the heat that emanated from his big body and his sexy smile. Free from the temptation those
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