Taming the Lion by Elizabeth Coldwell

into the kitchen. As if to prove the truth of her words, an open bag of flour stood on the table, along with an earthenware mixing bowl and a sturdy rolling pin.
    “I don’t know whether Marina told you,” Ellie said, “but I work as a teacher at St. Bride’s. That’s the primary school just down the road, next to the church. Anyway, we’re throwing a coffee morning as a fundraiser to help us buy a new minibus, and Muggins here volunteered to provide two dozen mini quiches.”
    She’d barely paused for breath during her speech, and Kaspar had taken a moment to assess her. Her topaz eyes sparkled with cheerfulness, and her caramel-toned hair had been cut in a short style that flicked out at the ends. All the female lion shifters Kaspar had known moved with a languid elegance. In contrast, Ellie was like a whirlwind, never remaining still for a moment.
    “Is there anything I can help you with?”
    She shook her head. “No, I’ve got everything in hand, even though it might not look like it… Though you could be a sweetheart and put the kettle on. I’ll make us both some tea then I’ll show you your room.”
    He’d always thought it a cliché that the English accompanied every event of any significance with a cup of tea, but apparently not. While Ellie returned to making her pastry, he filled the kettle and put it on the hob to boil.
    “So, Marina says you were part of the Amsterdam pride,” Ellie commented as she came to wash her flour-covered hands under the tap.
    “That’s right, but it was time to move on.”
    “Why come here, and not London? I’m not saying that having a new face around here isn’t welcome, but I’d have thought the Smoke would have held a lot more attraction.”
    “I don’t know. I just feel like I was meant to come here—that there’s something waiting for me I wouldn’t have found in London.”
    Ellie dried her hands on a towel. “Something…or someone? You wouldn’t be the first shifter who’s been unconsciously attracted to the place where they’re destined to meet their mate.”
    “Oh, I don’t think that’s the reason. I’m not even looking for anyone right now.”
    “Well, isn’t that always the time you find them?” She was interrupted by the whistling of the kettle. “The tea’s in the cupboard to the left of the sink, if you’d be so kind as to get it down for me.”
    He did as she’d asked, handing Ellie a white metal caddy on which the word ‘Tea’ had been stenciled in blue. Alongside it were two similar canisters labeled ‘Coffee’ and ‘Sugar’.
    Ellie spooned tealeaves into a pot before pouring in boiling water. She went to fetch milk from the fridge. “How do you like it?”
    “To be honest, I’m more of a coffee drinker… It’s a Dutch thing. But I’ll have it with milk and no sugar, thank you.”
    Once the tea had brewed to Ellie’s satisfaction, she poured mugs for both of them, adding just a splash of milk to her own and a little more to Kaspar’s. “Bring that with you.”
    She led Kaspar upstairs, pointing out the bathroom and her own bedroom on the way to a door at the end of the landing. When she pushed it open, he got a glimpse of a small room, its walls painted a cheerful shade of yellow, with curtains that matched the cream and gray pattern of the cover on the double bed.
    “I’m afraid we have to share the bathroom,” Ellie said.
    “Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Kaspar set his rucksack down on the floor and looked around. The built-in closet appeared more than big enough to hold the few items of clothing he’d brought with him and he could store his other bits and pieces in the bedside cabinet. “But one thing Marina didn’t mention was the rent you’re looking for.”
    “As you’re family, kind of”—she grinned, revealing sharp little teeth—“let’s say forty-five pounds a week. Bills included.”
    Kaspar had no idea how that compared to the average price for lodgings in this part of the city, but