Instinctive (29 page)

Her thoughts wandered to her parents and she smiled, pleased that her mother had fallen for Slyck’s charm, and had readily accepted
him into the family, even if he preferred jeans and T-shirts over dress pants and white collared shirts. Perhaps she and Slyck would join them in Florida over the Christmas holidays later this month after all.

Since coming home, Jaclyn had taken on another new image and used her middle name, Marie. Even though they never expected anyone to come looking for them—the entire community of Serene thought they were dead—they felt it best to cover all traces. And, of course, now that she was a good girl, the
Chicago Social
, in their quest to capture misbehaving debutantes, no longer had any interest in her, which allowed her to remain quiet, behind the scenes, and out of the spotlight.

Her mother was happy with the new name because it matched the new, good-girl identity, and it just happened to be her name, as well. Slyck took on the name of Sam, one of his old identities, and Sunray . . . well, Sunray kept her name in memory of Ray.

Jaclyn smoothed down her long skirt as she stood and reached for her winter coat and scarf. After slipping out of her sensible pumps, she pulled on her knee-high winter boots and glanced at the freshly falling snow. Once she was sufficiently dressed for the cold Chicago winter, she stepped out onto the white sidewalk. Jaclyn no longer minded dressing the part of the good girl in the day. Not when she could go home every night and be so very bad with Slyck.

Speaking of Slyck. Both he and Sunray had left the office earlier that day and headed back to Sunray’s place to cook Jaclyn a special birthday dinner. She was certainly looking forward to the meal, but truthfully, she was more interested in the dessert afterward.

With Slyck’s knowledge of policing, Benjamin had given him a position as head of security before he had retired. And, with Sunray’s persuasive techniques, she was now on the marketing team. Jaclyn liked having her new family close by at all times.

As Jaclyn made her way down the street, she stopped to talk to a few of the shopkeepers, picked up a couple of Christmas presents, and exchange happy holiday greetings as well as hugs and kisses. Continuing on her way home, she walked past Risqué. She paused for a moment and smiled as she glanced at the entrance door.

“Shall we?”

The deep, familiar voice came from behind. She spun around and came face-to-face with Kane. Her eyes lit up as she leaned in to hug him. He held her to him long and hard. His warm masculine scent, a sharp blend of spice and a sensual aquatic aroma, impregnated the air and filled her senses with joyous and wonderful memories. She wasn’t sure if his scent came from cologne or if he spent a lot of time in a pool.

After she inched back, he narrowed his questioning eyes and examined her, like a hunter studying its prey, and for a quick moment she wondered exactly what it was he did for a living. “You seem . . . different,” he said.

“I am different,” was all she offered.

He touched her arm, and held the door open. “Coming?”

She shook her head no. Now that she’d found the one man who completed her in every way, she had no need or desire to frequent the nightclubs. “I have everything I need at home,” she said.

Kane frowned and she sensed a deep sense of loneliness stirring in the depths of his soul. Strange how she’d never noticed that before. Then again, before she was a were-cat, she didn’t have these cool heightened senses.

In a thoughtful gesture Kane lifted her collar and pulled it around her neck to keep the gusting wind from nipping at her exposed flesh. “I’m happy for you, Jaclyn. Really, I am.” With that, Kane turned to leave and Jaclyn picked up her pace and made her way to Sunray’s. She slipped inside her friend’s warm, cozy condo, and Sunray helped her remove her scarf and jacket. Jaclyn caught a glimpse of her husband in the kitchen, and her heart leapt with joy. Slyck stopped what he was doing and came her way, a loving smile on his face.

Before Sunray hung Jaclyn’s coat up, she pulled the winter gear to her nose and inhaled. Suddenly her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. “Ohmigod . . .”

Jaclyn tore her attention from Slyck and glanced at her best friend. “What?”

Sunray buried her face in the coat again and drew a deep breath. “It’s . . .”

“It’s what?” Jaclyn waved her hands and prompted her. “Jeez, girl, don’t keep me hanging.”

Their eyes met and locked as Sunray told her, “It’s Ray!”

“Ray?” both Jaclyn and Slyck said in unison. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jaclyn added, incredulous.

Sunray’s chest rose and fell rapidly as a prick of tears formed in her eyes. “I always knew you were important to me, Jaclyn. Important to my future.”

Jaclyn grabbed the coat and inhaled the medley of scents. Her mind raced. Good God, she’d hugged so many people recently, it was hard to pinpoint the exact scent that Sunray had recognized. She drew the collar to her nose and concentrated, sifting through all the aromas until one—one that smelled like spice and pool water—triggered something in the back of her brain, something Sunray had told her about Ray.

Kane!

Jaclyn lifted her eyes slowly and smiled. “I think I know where to find him.”

A former government financial officer,
Cathryn Fox
graduated from university with a bachelor of business degree. Shortly into her career, Cathryn figured out that corporate life wasn’t for her. Needing an outlet for her creative energy, she turned in her briefcase and calculator and began writing erotic romance full-time. Cathryn enjoys writing dark paranormals and humorous contemporaries. She lives in eastern Canada with her husband, two kids, and chocolate Labrador retriever.

 

 

 

 

 

BY CATHRYN FOX

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hurried steps carried Ray Bartlett across town; his dark clothes as well as the black sky masked his foolhardy presence. As he approached the train tracks, the silhouette of the old abandoned building on the other side of the railroad came into view, prompting him to reach into his pocket and pull out the heavy tin can he always brought with him—a familiar beacon in an eerily unfamiliar night.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he called out as he gently shook the scratched and dented container of sardines, letting the thick oil inside slosh about in an effort to herald his approach. He pitched his voice low, knowing the sound would carry in the breeze and alert the lone occupant of the building to his presence, and signal her to free the latch. He darted a glance around and hoped like hell he’d gone undetected by any resident gangs, should they be lurking about. After all, he was a far cry from his elite Gold Coast neighborhood, and he was now setting foot into Chicago’s seedy south side—a testament to his foolhardiness, for sure.

As he took note of his shaking fingers, he slid the can back into his breeches and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets to still his rather unusual jitters. His discomposure was partly because he’d snuck out of his dorm—and should he get caught, the consequences doled out by his headmaster would be most severe—and partly due to his excitement in seeing the girl waiting for him on the side of town where he had no business frequenting—the side of town the folks in his social circle avoided like a diseased wharf rat. But, unlike him, they didn’t have Sunni Matthews waiting for them.

God, his heart raced and his body grew needy just thinking about her. She had a certain energy about her: a spark, a light in the darkness that filled him with a deep warmth and unearthed things inside him he’d never felt before.

Everything from the way her golden hair framed her porcelain skin and the way her beautiful blue eyes sparkled with love and laughter, to the way she trusted him completely and thoroughly with her body, heart, and soul rattled his emotions and practically rendered him senseless. Ribbons of want—no
need
—worked their way through his veins because he knew he was only minutes from gathering her into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers and paying homage to her lush body until the early hours of the morning.

As he took in the shape of the slumbering structure tucked just inside the woods, a mixture of joy and sadness invaded his thoughts. He was thrilled to spend a few stolen moments with Sunni—he ached to embrace her, to feel her naked body against his skin—but it pained him to know that he’d wake up tomorrow
between a set of starched white sheets, and she on a dusty cot. His heart twisted and his stomach clenched. He halted his forward momentum and took a moment to fight down the feeling of helplessness, as well as the pang of loneliness that ate at his guts like a thousand hungry cockroaches.

Soon,
he reminded himself. Soon they’d be together forever, and he’d make things better for her. It was a promise he’d made to her a long time ago, and a promise he intended to keep.

Off in the distance the whistle of an approaching train pulled him back to reality. The high-pitched whine broke through the unnatural silence as he carefully counted the wooden sleepers and made his way over the tracks—tracks he knew better than to cross. Yes, it was dangerous, maybe even downright suicidal to venture into this part of town, but it was a damn strange thing how love affected one’s ability to make rational decisions.

He ducked into the woods and glanced around, camouflaging himself amongst the towering maple trees and densely packed foliage. As he stepped onto the overgrown walking path, he once again took note of the strange quiet surrounding him. Not even the cacophony of the bullfrogs living in the swamp just beyond the tracks could be heard. It was as if someone or something had scared them silent. That thought aroused the fine hairs along his nape as the long, unkempt weeds and gangly blades of grass climbed up his breeches and pawed at his ankles.

He blinked his eyes to adjust to the dim light and took two measured steps forward. Because there had just been a week of heavy rain, the heels of his patent leather shoes sank in the wet, moss-laden ground. Ray turned the collar of his wool sack coat
up against the cool autumn breeze and carefully picked his way forward, his heart pounding harder and harder with each approaching footstep.

Overhead the tightly knitted clouds peeled back to reveal a full moon. The bright beams broke through the canopy of high leaves to provide sufficient light for him to see the dark metal latch on the door, still just a few feet out of reach. His lips turned up in a smile, and he shook the can again to let Sunni and the menagerie of tomcats seeking warmth and shelter inside know that it was he who approached, not some gang member sneaking up on them unsuspectingly.

Taking him by surprise, a low noise came from behind. A noise not at all unlike the growl of a wild wounded animal. Survival instincts kicked in, and he glanced over his shoulder in time to spot a shadow moving in the distance, weaving in and out of the trees in a drunken, nonsequential pattern and keeping a wide berth as it circled.

Ray narrowed his eyes and peered into the darkness. The shadow sat low, crouched on all fours. He took it to be some sort of dog, but bigger than any canine he’d ever encountered. Ray was not a small man by any means, but to take on a rabid dog without weaponry would certainly make him a dense one.

As his pulse kicked up a notch, his skin prickled in warning and propelled him forward. Moving swiftly, his long legs ate up the short distance to the building in record time. Before he could reach the latch, a low noise serrated the air and stopped him dead in his tracks. His blood ran cold and he swallowed hard, the strangled sound carrying in the wind as he slowly turned in
the direction of the growl. He took great care not to make any sudden movements while he tracked the shadow as it continued to come closer—closing in on him. A moment later a large canine stepped into the clearing and two pewter orbs flashed beneath the full moon.

A burst of adrenaline propelled Ray on, and he yanked the door open with much more force than was necessary and charged inside. With his breath coming in quick, unsteady gasps, he slammed the door behind him and collapsed against it, using his body weight to seal it shut.

The light from the candle flickered as Sunni approached. Her palm closed over his cheek and the warmth of her hand drove back the cold of the night. “Ray, what is it?” she asked.

With concern dancing in her eyes, she looked past his shoulder at the secured door. “Were you followed?”

He shook his head, and let the tension drain from his body as he took pleasure in the alluring sight of Sunni and the seductive way the soft candlelight fell over her petite frame like a halo. As he drew in her distinctive floral scent, his heart swelled and his cock thickened, forcing him to struggle to find his words.

He widened his hands to show the animal’s excessive size. “Wild dog,” was all he managed to get out as his blood raced south.

She frowned. “I thought I heard the same dog earlier when I snuck in here.” Just then one of the many tomcats hissed at the door and then turned its attention to more pressing matters, like the food in Ray’s breeches. He brushed up against Ray’s leg and pawed at his pocket, and the can of sardines he knew would be
inside. As a few other cats moved closer and joined in the chorus, Ray pulled out their food.

Sunni carefully positioned the candle on the ledge next to them, away from the boarded windows, and went to work on feeding the hungry felines. After opening the can and placing it on the floor, she turned back to Ray and furrowed her brow. “What should we do?”