Fierce Protector (Sierra Pride Book 3) (3 page)

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“Oh. Of course.” She dug through her pack, finding the binder of samples, all the fur collected in tiny plastic sleeves, labeled clearly in her precise writing. One of her bras slipped out alongside the binder, and she felt her face heat up in embarrassment. She thrust the binder into his waiting hand. “Here.”

He sniffed—
sniffed
—at the fur in the little plastic pockets. Stopping at one, he yanked the sample out and dropped it to the ground, mashing it into the mud with his heel. He did the same thing with four more samples before handing the binder back to her.

She took it wordlessly, not understanding.

“Any photos?” he asked.

Stuffing her bra back into her pack, she fumbled for the camera and passed it to him. He quickly scrolled through the photos, pausing every now and then to delete one. She wished she could have seen which ones he was deleting, but she didn’t want to get any closer to him than necessary.

He gave the camera back, and she tucked it into her pack. “Anything else?” he asked.

“No, that’s it.”

“What about that?” He pointed to her digital voice recorder.

“That’s my diary. You don’t need that.”

“I’ll be the judge. Hand it over.”

Seething, she gave it to him. All her private thoughts. She’d talked about her research, yes, but it wasn’t the kind of thing she would ever put into an academic paper. Not in a million years. She talked about the cougars with passion. It was more like a treatise on helping them, on her desire to be a better scientist so she could prove to her father that she was worthwhile, and prove to the world that the cougars were worth time, money, and effort.

She cringed as she heard the childish wonder in her own voice through the recorder’s playback, “
I bet he’s a beautiful cat
.”

The man snorted and tossed the recorder back to her. He gestured to the prints around the stream. “What do you think about these tracks?”

“I—I don’t know what to think.”

Something in him called to her, made it hard to think about anything. She was distracted by his body. Not his nakedness, not his…nether regions. Not even his excellent abs and muscled shoulders. Something about him. The way his dark brown eyes flashed. The smile he wore—self-assured, yet self-deprecating. Maybe he didn’t think much of her or her research, but he didn’t think much of himself, either.

She didn’t understand. Somehow, this bothered her.

“You haven’t put together any theories?”

“Some sort of prank, although I can’t figure out how you did it. Because it was you, wasn’t it?”

He laughed and handed her the phone. “Call off your boss.”

“My advisor?”

“Whoever it was. Sounds like she was going to come up here. I don’t want that.”

Miranda dialed Dr. Gutierrez’s number and waited while the phone rang. Eventually it went through to voicemail. “She isn’t there,” Miranda said.

“Keep trying.”

She dialed again with the same result. “No answer.”

He swore. “Fine. Looks like you’re coming with me.”

Chapter Five

“I—what?” the woman said.

Gabriel tried not to smile at how flustered she was. He wanted nothing more than to scent mark those cheeks of hers when they had that lovely pink tinge of a blush on them.

“You’re coming with me. I want you out of my forest, and I don’t want you bringing someone else here. I’ll walk you down while you keep trying to call off your advisor.”

“Will you put some clothes on first?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sure, we can swing by my stash on the way.”

“If you have clothes, why aren’t you wearing them?”

“It’s complicated.”

He liked the way her head cocked to the side as she seemed to consider his words. He liked the way her hair fell straight back in her ponytail, and the way her lips formed a perfect little pout when she was exasperated.

He liked, especially, the way she smelled. Like forest and fresh water and something sweet, like raisins.

“Well, let’s go then,” she said.

They were quiet as they walked. She was obviously in good shape because she kept up with him easily. After they walked for about an hour, he touched her elbow to get her attention. She jerked away from his touch, but not before he felt it—a spark of something between them.

Shit, he didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to like the way she looked, or her scent, or the way she talked, with the side of her mouth crooked up in an almost smile.

He didn’t like that he noticed these things.

Had he noticed those things about Hera? He tried thinking back, but he couldn’t recall a single detail. He remembered his anger, sure, and his need to possess her. Now, though, he wondered
why
he’d ever felt those things for her. He certainly didn’t feel them now. In fact, if not for this strange woman next to him, he could return to his family and tell them he’d been cured of that inconvenient obsession.

If not for the woman next to him. Because, hell, he didn’t want to send her off. He wanted to keep her here in the forest with him, help her explore, show her everything he knew.

Fuck that. She already was too close to the truth. How long would she believe it was a prank? True, humans saw what made the most sense. They saw only the possible, not the workings of whatever magic operated behind shapeshifters’ existence. But if she’d hung around that stream for much longer, or if she’d brought other people in to investigate, his secret could have come to light.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He touched her again, more gently this time. “Over this way,” he said.

She followed his lead down a steep incline and then up a rise to where the shack lay nestled against the side of a rocky cliff.

She seemed scared all of a sudden. He could smell it, sharp, pungent.

“You coming inside?” he asked, holding the door open. He didn’t want her to feel exposed and vulnerable out there, and he didn’t give a shit if she saw him getting dressed.

“No,” she gulped. “I’ll be out here.”

Puzzling over her fear, he went inside and yanked on a pair of pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. He found a pair of shoes and socks in the bag he’d carried in…weeks ago, had it been? Or days? Time blended and passed strangely when he shifted so often.

He was lacing up the second shoe when he heard her gasp, and then her footsteps, running off.

Chapter Six

Miranda couldn’t suck in breaths fast enough. She was conditioned for hiking in these mountains and in this forest, but she was nowhere near in shape enough to run in them. But run was what she’d have to do.

As soon as they’d gotten close to the shack, she’d figured out the truth.

Footsteps went into the shack. A cougar’s prints came out of the shack.

It was like that tree, back near the stream. There, she might have thought someone was pranking her. But to have the same thing happen here…it was scientifically impossible, but she couldn’t ignore the truth right in front of her face.

A cougar turning into a human. How she had laughed at the idea.

Human tracks. Cougar tracks. This odd man, naked in the woods, concerned with destroying some of her samples, but not all of them.

She told herself she was being silly, that she was being a superstitious fool. She told herself that Anya and Tim from the lab had developed an elaborate hoax to freak her out.

These kinds of things couldn’t be faked. The feral man couldn’t be faked.

Trees went past her in a blur as she ran from the shack. She had a head start, she figured. But if he turned into a cougar—the thought made her gasp anew—wouldn’t he be able to catch her? Cougars were fast. Humans carrying giant packs of camping and research gear, not so much.

While running, she yanked her arms from the straps of the pack and dropped it behind her. She looked up at the sky, calculating which direction she needed to go for help. Nubston, the nearest town, was maybe thirty miles away.

She shouldn’t sprint; she should pace herself.

“Hey!” The man’s voice was far behind her, but she doubted he’d stay far behind for long. “Hey, come back!”

She put on an extra burst of speed, leaping over logs, launching herself from rocks. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall wrong and hurt herself, and then what chance would she have of getting away from him?

A cougar-man. A man-cougar. A were-cougar? It didn’t matter. If he was so intent on destroying evidence of his existence, what would he do with Miranda?

“Hey, stop!”

His voice was closer now. How could he be catching up? Was he a cougar right now, and talking to her through his fangs?

If only Dr. Gutierrez were here. She’d been on the road—had she left when Miranda had first told her about the footprints? It didn’t matter—there was no way Dr. Gutierrez would reach her within the next few minutes. Not before that man did.

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, and she screamed.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he said, using the force of her motion to spin her against him.

She pushed at his chest, terrified, and tried to stomp on his foot. He stepped out of the way and lifted her, so she kicked at his knees.

“Please,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

And he hadn’t hurt her—his touch was actually soft, even where he was lifting her. His hands were warm and firm on her hips, but there was no squeezing pressure. She felt as light as an Indian paintbrush flower in his hands.

“I don’t know who—or what—you are,” she panted. “And I don’t care.”

“Shh,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yes, you will. You don’t want people to know, but I know.”

His expression was beseeching. “I want you to call off your advisor.”

“And then what? Then you’ll get rid of me like you got rid of all of my research and other evidence? Kill me and squash me into the mud?”

“Hell, woman, I don’t know.”

She made a small sound and tried to pull away again.

“No, I’m not going to get rid of you,” he said, practically growling. “But I don’t have a plan. I don’t know what to do.”

She felt her eyes fill with tears and she cursed them as they fell. He set her down and wiped them away with his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me, too.” She kneed him in the groin.

He went down, yelling in agony, and she was off again.

This time she hadn’t gone fifty yards when a cougar sped past her in a blur, and then stopped, blocking her path. She changed direction and ran before realizing the rule that people should never run from cougars. But she knew this cougar—it was that man. Did the same rules apply?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything, and she was so tired. Would she run all day? She’d never outrun him, either as a man or as a cougar.

The cougar was sitting a few feet away, blocking her path again but not making any moves toward her.

She found a large rock and pulled it from the earth, hefting it up and down in her hand. It would make a decent weapon, although she’d rather have a branch. She was too afraid to go hunting for a weapon when the cougar was so close, watching her.

The beast took a step toward her.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled.

He sat down and bowed his head.

She lowered the rock, and the cougar took another step toward her.

“Stop right there.” Her voice was loud, clear, and firm.

He took another step, his head still lowered, not looking her in the eye. Nothing about his posture spoke of violence or stalking. Nothing about him made her feel threatened despite the fact that he was a big-ass cougar.

Another step. Hell’s balls, she didn’t know what to do.

Then she heard a deep growl, and she lifted the rock again. But, no—it wasn’t a growl. The cougar was purring.
Purring
.

She lowered the rock. The cougar moved forward another step, and another. He could have been tricking her—maybe he was—maybe he was purring so she’d drop her defenses and then he’d slash at her with those angry claws and vicious fangs…but she couldn’t make herself hit him when he came all the way up to her and nudged against her hip.

She dropped the rock, and it fell to the ground with a thump.

The cougar rubbed his cheek against her hip and thigh, and she squatted down next to him, feeling completely insane. Nobody did this with cougars.
Nobody
. But here she was, face to face with a cougar in the wilderness, running her fingers through his thick fur.

Chapter Seven

He nudged her and she nearly fell backward, laughing in surprise. Then he nudged her again. “You want me to move, do you?” she asked, standing up.

He walked at her side. This had been a huge risk, showing her what he was like as a cougar. Now there was no doubt at all between them—she knew exactly what he was, and—the thought warmed him through and through—she had accepted him.

Perhaps she didn’t trust him, not yet, but she kept looking down at him and smiling as they walked together, and there was freedom and wonder in her eyes. He felt like a bigger, better person this way, next to her. Like someone who would care for someone else in a selfless kind of way as opposed to the needy, demanding way he’d felt about Hera. He’d wanted to possess Hera, but he wanted to treasure this woman.

When they reached the clothes he’d shed in order to shift and come after her, he shifted back to human while she watched.

“Oh,” she said, covering her mouth. “Oh, wow.”

He tugged on his jeans and shirt. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Fine. It’s just—it’s one thing knowing, and another thing seeing, you know?”

“I can understand that.”

Tears were leaking from her eyes again. Damn it, what had he done? He reached forward again, wiping her cheeks. “Don’t kick me in the nuts again, okay?” he said seriously.

“I won’t,” she said.

“I’m Gabriel.”

“I’m Miranda.”

He knew it, of course, because he’d overheard her saying it on the phone. But to hear her tell her name to him made him feel bigger and stronger. Her name was now the most important thing in the world. It was a beautiful name—perfect for her. He wanted to say it over and over again, he wanted to shout it while he was buried inside of her. Where was this coming from? These feelings were stronger than anything he’d ever experienced.