Cat Scratch Fever (6 page)

He’d been coming at this all wrong. The answer to his prayer wasn’t a wolf.

It was a cat.

Chapter Five

Lilly grimaced at the package of Brussels sprouts turning her foot into a block of ice. With a slight wiggle of her leg, she dislodged the bag of frozen veggies onto the floor. A loud grumble issued from her belly, inconveniently reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since last night. She’d been so gung-ho to kill herself on a pair of skis, she’d forgotten to grab one of the breakfast bars she’d picked up from the grocery store yesterday.

She gave the bag of Brussels sprouts a considering glance before sighing. “Yeah, I’m not
that
hungry.” Her stomach rumbled again in audible argument. Her focus veered to the kitchen entrance. It wasn’t too much of a walk, even if she had to manage it on her bum ankle. Gripping the arms of the chair, she gingerly scooched closer to the ottoman and swung her foot to the ground. As she hobbled onto her good leg, she could almost hear Dante growling in her ear for not staying parked in the chair. It wasn’t like she had any other choice though. The stinking refrigerator wasn’t going to come waltzing out here, for crying out loud.

Squaring her shoulders, she took a cautious step forward, trying to keep as much weight off her injured ankle as possible in the process. Only the tiniest twinge of discomfort shuttled through her. Speeding up her pace a bit, she wobbled across the room and made it into the kitchen without any undue pain or falling flat on her face.

Feeling ridiculously victorious over her amazing feat, she stumbled to the counter and grabbed one of the multigrain bagels before shuffling to the fridge and snatching the cream cheese and smoked salmon. Less than a minute later, bagel sandwich in hand and taste buds salivating in anticipation, she limped back into the living room. She lifted the bagel and prepared to take a quick bite just as a loud bang sounded from outside. A second later the door opened and Dante stepped inside. His unexpected appearance startled her so much, she dropped her bagel. Ignoring the globs of cream cheese and slivers of salmon now decorating her bare toes, she gaped at Dante. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“I did.” His eyebrows slashed low. “You’re supposed to be icing that ankle.”

“I was hungry.” She plunked her hands on her hips. “Why am I explaining myself to you? And why are you
here
?”

Rather than answer, Dante stalked to her side and without saying a word, upended her into his arms and carried her back to the chair. Giving him an indignant look, she struggled to lift her butt from the cushion, only to be thwarted when Dante plopped the bag of Brussels sprouts back in place on her ankle. His eyes flashing a warning, he straightened. “Unless you have to pee, you’re staying put.”

“What if I do?” She huffed a peevish breath when he gave her a questioning look. “Okay, I don’t. But that mess on the floor isn’t going to clean itself up.” Figuring she’d outsmarted him on that one, she reached for the Brussels sprouts.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked at him as he pivoted and made tracks for the kitchen. This was all very…weird. With the way Dante stormed out on her earlier, she’d figured she wouldn’t see him anytime soon. Or at least not until she tracked him down so she could plead her case about the land deal for the gazillionth time. She certainly hadn’t been expecting him to barge in on her and start bossing her around again. And while she appreciated his efforts at giving her a hand, she couldn’t help being suspicious at his possible motives.

Had he returned thinking he could sweet talk her into jumping into the sack with him despite her resolve not to? If so, he had a rude awakening coming his way. She could see right through his surly attempt at being neighborly and considerate. Her panties were staying firmly in place, damn it.

The wolf in question sauntered back into the room carrying the wastebasket from beneath the kitchen sink and a wad of paper towels. He placed both items on the floor next to the spilled remains of her snack before shrugging from his jacket. His muscular shoulders shifted enticingly under his flannel shirt, and a hot, prickly wave of heat shimmered through her. She bit back a whimper and wiggled uncomfortably in her seat. “Look, I appreciate you helping out and all, but in the twenty minutes since we last discussed it, I haven’t changed my mind about us having sex.”

He dropped his jacket on the couch and swept her with a penetrating look that she swore possessed the power to burn through her clothes. “I have a proposition for you.”

“If it has anything to do with whipped cream and handcuffs, I’m not interested.” Hoo boy. Was that ever a fat, hairy lie.

Dante’s eyes darkened as he licked his lips. “Not what I originally had in mind, but now that you mention it…”

She stacked her arms over her chest—as much out of frustration as to hide the perky saluting of her traitorous nipples. “Could you please keep your dirty mind on track?”

“You’re the one who brought up the whipped cream and handcuffs, kitten.”

She narrowed her eyes. “
What
did you just call me?”

He chuckled. “Don’t get your fur in a tizzy. I could have said pussy.”

“You would,” she grumbled.

His grin—a sight practically rarer than Bigfoot when it came to being directed at her—stoked another of those horribly delicious flutters deep in her core. Damn it, she really wished he’d amp up his usual obnoxiousness so her libido could get a much-needed break. Attempting to be as covert as possible, she pressed her thighs together in an effort to relieve the ache. Little good it did. “Can you get to the point of whatever it is you want? It’s not like I’ve got all night, you know.”

Dante offered her a droll look. “Yeah. Sitting in that chair is damn time consuming.”

Shit. The much-hoped-for irritation wasn’t nearly strong enough to combat her escalating horniness.

“I’ve thought about what you said about that land rightfully belonging to you.”

His statement was so not what she’d been expecting, it took her a moment to find her tongue. “And…?” she asked, almost too afraid to hope for the impossible. Her heartbeat quickened, pounding in her ears.

“You might be right. I’ve decided to let you have the acreage.”

The pent-up breath escaped her in a rush. Joy. Happiness. Triumph. All three were an intoxicating melody. Completely forgetting about her injury, she scrambled to jump to her feet. Worry and consternation darkening his rugged features, Dante gently pushed her back in place and settled onto the end of the ottoman, presumably to block her from moving again.

“You have no idea what this means to me, Dante. I know we’ve had our issues in the past, but I swear you won’t regret this.”

A sardonic smile tipped one corner of his mouth. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“No, I promise you won’t.” Feeling like she needed to make some offer of goodwill in return for his change of heart, she scooted closer to him and without thinking, draped her hand over his much larger one. “I’ll also make sure your cousin gets top priority when it comes time to choose a contractor for the building construction. You can count on it.”

Dante stared at their joined hands for a long moment before slowly lifting his gaze to hers. “Lilly, you haven’t heard what my asking price is for the land.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she read the wary determination in his eyes. Refusing to bow to the sinking feeling in her gut, she shook her head. “As long as it’s not an unreasonable sum, my colleagues are prepared to make it happen.”

“I don’t want money.”

She gaped at him, certain she’d misheard. “Pardon?”

“Hell, I’ve got plenty of that. What I need is a little more…complicated. And
you’re
the only one who can provide it. Not the lynchats.”

“I don’t understand. What could I possibly have that you suddenly need?” And why the hell couldn’t he have come to this epiphany—
whatever
it was—eighteen months ago? It would have saved her a mountain of trouble and endless stress-related headaches.

Dante’s hand shifted beneath hers so that they were palm-to-palm. The warmth of his work-roughened skin seeped into her, stirring her pleasurable tingles into overdrive. She tried to ignore the sensation, but it became impossible when his fingers enclosed hers.

“I need you to be my wife.”

Her eyes widened, and she choked on a series of coughs. Dante’s free hand came around and thumped her on the back. She scowled at him. “I always knew you were an asshole, but really, this is taking it too far, you son of a bitch.”

It was his turn to blink. “Why the hell are you so angry?”

She turned up her glare by several degrees. “How can you even ask that? Are you such a rat bastard you don’t see how cruel it is to lead me on the way you just did?” Shaking with fury, she poked a trembling finger in the center of his chest. “Your
wife
? I’m surprised that was the best punch line you could come up with.”

Wincing, he carefully pried her finger away from his sternum. “It’s not a joke, Lilly. I’m dead serious.”

She was about to deliver a blistering retort when she noticed the gleam of determination in his eyes hadn’t departed. If anything, it’d intensified. The furious words dissolved on her tongue, and she stared at him, stupefied. She almost expected Rod Serling’s voiceover to float on the air, preceded by the
Twilight Zone
theme. Suddenly reminded of the seductive heat of Dante’s palm beneath hers, she jerked her attention to their linked hands. An alarming sense of recognition ricocheted through her, adding to the already staggering level of insanity she’d just been dropped into the middle of. She attempted to wrench out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip. Her pulse beat in triple time. “Have you lost your freaking
mind
?”

“At least hear me out before you accuse me of being crazy.”

“Why? Nothing you say is going to convince me otherwise.”

“It’s strictly a business arrangement. You become my wife and get the land. I get my dad off my back about marrying Anna Gifford.”

“Who the hell is Anna Gifford? And what does she have to do with any of this?”

“She’s the top bitch of the Gifford pack. Trust me, calling her that is an insult to all bitches.”

“Why does Foster want you to marry her?”

Dante’s face tightened. “Forced pack merger.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. The power dynamics of werewolves and their pack systems was pretty much a mystery to her. Other than her assuming their rituals involved something so astoundingly twenty-first century as holding belching and farting contests to choose their leaders, she had no idea what really went on. “I take it that isn’t a good thing?”

“Shit no. Why the hell do you think I’m proposing to you?”

“This is a proposal?” It took every ounce of her willpower not to laugh in hysterical disbelief. “Telling me you need to get out of marrying another chick? How romantic.”

“Lilly, I told you this is business. Nothing romantic about it.”

She met his gaze. “Oh my God. You really are serious.”

“This can be advantageous for both of us.” His eyes sparkled with temptation. “You know you want that land. So bad, you can taste it. Well, here’s your chance.”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Was it wrong to even be considering this? If she said yes, she was in essence selling herself for a piece of land. How pathetic and immoral did that make her?

Then again, there were plenty of people who got married for the wrong reasons. At least this way she knew what she was getting herself into. And really, it wasn’t like she had to worry that she was missing out on meeting the husband of her dreams if she accepted Dante’s unconventional proposal. She’d known for a long time she wasn’t exactly marriage material—which made this conversation pretty damn ironic, now that she thought about it. But the truth was she loved her independence. Embraced it with every fiber of her being. Not to mention she was far from being the June Cleaver domestic goddess that most men out there secretly desired for a wife.

She gave Dante a suspicious glance. “Hypothetically speaking, if I agreed to this ridiculous proposition, you wouldn’t expect me to be your live-in maid, right?”

“I already pay my cousin Tess to clean for me once a week.”

Okay, that answered that question. “I don’t mind cooking—once in a while—but I’m much better at dialing up takeout. Especially if it’s Thai or sushi.”

“We don’t have a damn sushi restaurant up he—” Dante must have correctly interpreted her arched eyebrows because he growled before quickly smothering it. “Fine. I’ll do most of the cooking. I enjoy it anyway.”

“I wouldn’t give up my career. Or my house downstate.”

Dante grunted. “Good. I’ll look forward to my brief reprieves from your nagging presence.”

She tossed him a saccharine smile. “Same goes here, wolfman.”

Thick silence stretched between them while he gave her a prodding look. “Is that a yes?”

She chewed her lip again. “Would it have to be permanent? Our marriage, I mean?”

“Looking to divorce me already?”

“I just want to know exactly what I’m getting into here.”

He nodded. “Or at least for as long as I’m head alpha. Once I retire and choose my replacement, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

She grimaced. “Wow. That’ll really give me something to look forward to when I’m eighty.”

Dante’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Actually, I wasn’t plannin’ to retire until ninety.”

“Even better.” She gave him another distrusting stare. “This isn’t some Victorian arrangement where you expect me to bear you an heir, is it? Because I’m drawing the line on that one, buddy. This womb is
not
for rent.”

Dante tweaked the bridge of his nose. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a brood mare.”

“Good.” She squinted. “Just so we’re clear, this
marriage
would be strictly in name only? You’re not thinking you’re going to get side benefits, right?”

“We’d have sex, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

The arrogant assurance in his voice made her teeth grind. “Do I get a vote on that?”