Stealing the Snow Leopard's Heart Read online

  Keeley’s heart flipped over. “But this afternoon you said—”

  That I’m not his mate. Her heart soared. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t attracted to me.

  “I know what I said.” Lance’s gaze turned pleading. “Tell me I’m an idiot. I already know I am. Everything else in my life is so complicated, I thought this had to be, too.”

  “But it doesn’t,” Keeley breathed.

  It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be simple. Because I’m not his mate. We’re just two people. And…

  Warning bells started going off in her head, but she ignored them. She knew who she was, now. She knew there was no escaping her past.

  But this time tomorrow, she’d be gone. Out of Lance’s life forever.

  What had he said, when she’d come down for breakfast ass-naked? Shifters are less prudish about this sort of thing.

  “Let’s keep things simple,” she whispered, so softly she could barely hear her own voice.

  I’m a terrible person. Guilt gnawed at her gut, but the painful longing in her heart was stronger.

  She stared into his eyes and held her breath. Even her heartbeat seemed to slow as she waited for—God, she didn’t even know what.

  Lance made a small noise low in his throat as his eyes went dark with desire. “You mean that?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” Keeley leaned forward. Gleaming silver flickered in the depths of Lance’s eyes, like the first hints of fall leaves in the green, and she was so lost in them that his kiss took her by surprise.

  Lance pulled her to him. He held her against his muscular chest as his lips closed over hers, passionate and demanding.

  The warmth already building inside Keeley burst like fireworks, sending desire spilling through her veins. She kissed him back, flicking her tongue out to tease against his lips.

  Lance groaned, and the sound went straight to her core. Keeley flung one leg over his so she was sitting astride him. His hands dropped to her waist, pulling her closer, and the hard ridge of his erection jutted between her legs.

  She gasped out loud, the need inside her flaring hot and sharp. And something else, as well. Something bright and taut in her chest, like a shining guitar string ready to be plucked.

  “You feel it, too?” Lance’s voice was gravely with desire. He caught her face in one hand, resting his forehead against hers.

  “Yes,” Keeley whispered, and the tightness in her chest thrummed. She felt—she didn’t know what. Safety. Desire. More longing than she’d ever felt in her life before. If I didn’t have to leave after all of this—

  She cut the thought off before it could get any further. If she stayed, she would only be staying until Lance found out the truth about her. Or found his mate. Two bad options, no good ones. Better that she get out soon.

  Lance breathed out hard. “I want to take you to bed.”

  A delighted giggle bubbled out of Keeley, making the golden string inside her dance. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

  In reply, Lance stood up. Keeley squealed and wrapped her legs around his waist. Not that she was in any danger of falling; she was safe in Lance’s arms.

  Keeley snuggled against Lance’s chest as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. The star-like cityscape visible out the windows spun as he turned, and then she was lying on her back on the bed, and he was leaning over her.

  She reached for him, pulling him down to kiss his lips, his neck, the curve of his collarbone. When he groaned, she felt the rumble against her mouth.

  “Oh, God, Keeley,” he murmured, and the sound of her name on his lips made Keeley’s insides melt. “After last time—I want to take it slow. I want to explore every inch of you.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes were dark with lust, the bright green of his irises barely visible around the heavy darkness of his pupils. “Tell me what you want.”

  Keeley grabbed fistfuls of Lance’s shirt. “You.” She pulled the shirt over his head, fabric tearing. “Simple.” She ran her hands over his chest, glorying in the heat of his bare skin. “Straightforward.” She dropped her hands to the button of his pants. “Now.”

  Lance’s eyes glittered. “Is that so?” He kissed her, biting down on her bottom lip just hard enough to make her gasp. “I think I can manage that.”

  She gasped as he pushed her shirt up over her breasts, one hand reaching around to undo her bra. Keeley fumbled to drag her shirt and bra off over her head, and Lance took advantage of her distraction, sliding his hands down her sides and hooking his thumbs under the band of her underwear.

  “Yes,” she cried out as he brushed one thumb against her clit. Her legs bucked automatically. Lance laughed, burying his face in her shoulder as he kicked his pants off and climbed on top of her.

  Keeley moaned as his teeth raked across her skin. More than a kiss, less than a bite. It was strangely, compellingly intimate.

  So she did the same to him, nibbling, nipping, until every touch between her and Lance blazed with sensation.

  Need throbbed between her legs. She stared up into Lance’s eyes, seeing the same need reflected there.

  He kissed her again, his teeth grazing her lips. Keeley wrapped her legs around his waist, straining upwards, and he bore down on her at the same time.

  He filled her in one thrust. Keeley’s back arched, and a soft cry escaped her lips as her body adjusted to his size. He thrust again, and the stretch was a delicious ache, bright and pure.

  Lance pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes burned into hers, the green of spring. Of new life.

  Second chances.

  Keeley’s breath caught in her throat. The thought hurt. Like running her fingers across the blade of a knife.

  She pulled away from it. Back into the blaze of desire, the burn and thrill of sensation that danced across her skin whenever she and Lance touched. Whenever she looked at him. Hell, whenever she thought about him.

  Her thoughts hurt. Her memories hurt. Who she was, hurt. But not when she was with Lance. Not now. Right now, right here, she was free and flying in the center of a burning sun of joy, drunk on her own desire and Lance’s desire for her.

  Keeley dug her fingertips into Lance’s shoulders, desperate for every scrap of touch, every inch of closeness.

  Lance groaned. He swept one hand to the small of her back, adjusting the angle of her body. Keeley was already burning with sensation. The next time he thrust inside her, she exploded.

  Pleasure raced through her veins, a flash of light that shorted out every thought in her brain. She clutched at Lance, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the crashing waves of her orgasm, and the light grew stronger. She wasn’t flying in the center of the sun anymore, the sun was inside her.

  Lance tensed, his arms tightening around her. He claimed her lips with his, their breath mingling as he cried out with his release.

  The bright light filling Keeley shrank down until it was a gleaming jewel in her heart.

  And Lance’s, too.

  Keeley’s eyes widened. What—?

  “Simple enough for you?” Lance’s voice was practically a purr, warm and heavy with satisfaction.

  Keeley nudged him to roll off her, then snuggled against his side. She felt like purring, too. Her skin was still tingling. “Very straightforward.”

  Lance wrapped one arm around her and stared up at the ceiling. He looked thunderstruck by happiness, and Keeley couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across her face at the simple, open joy in his expression.

  She rolled on top of him and kissed him, losing herself in another wave of bliss. Lance held her close, his arms strong and comforting.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he breathed into her hair.

  Keeley giggled. She felt as though she was floating on golden clouds of pleasure. “Don’t deserve what? Simple?”

  “Nothing in my life is simple.” He touched her face gently, his eyes full of tenderness. “Not recently. Why would finding m
y mate be?”

  The fire and light in Keeley’s veins turned to ice. “Your mate?”

  His gentle touch turned into a caress as he traced the line of her jaw, following his fingertips with a line of kisses. She felt like her whole body had gone stiff as a board, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Keeley. My mate. The one good thing to come into my life out of all this madness.”

  He buried his face in her hair, sighing contentedly.

  Keeley forced herself to breathe normally. Her fingers were knotted in the bedsheets. She loosened them, one by one.

  His mate. I’m his mate. Oh, fuck me. Her heart began to race. What have I done?

  Thoughts tumbled over each other, a flood that, this time, didn’t short out. I thought simple meant casual. I thought we were just a casual shifter thing, like everyone getting naked in front of each other and it not even being a thing.

  I didn’t think simple meant serious.

  But it did. More serious than anything else in her life.

  Lance was stuck with her. With her. The thief. The liar. The person who’d almost put Maggie in the hands of monsters.

  Her chest cramped. She rubbed it slowly, her mind racing. What the hell was she going to do now?

  Lance was stuck with her. Which meant she couldn’t run away, not anymore. She had to stay.

  And she had to make things right.

  Lance

  For the first time in months, Lance felt like his old self as he looked up at the nondescript building that housed the MacInnis Agency. The lingering dread that had dogged his thoughts since Irina was kidnapped was, if not gone, then reduced. Manageable.

  No, he thought as he drove up to the carport. Not my old self. Better. Because now, I have her.

  Keeley fit. It was as simple as that. All his life, there had been Lance, and his snow leopard. And now there was Keeley, too, filling a gap in his soul he hadn’t even known was there. Steadying the ground under his feet.

  And her kitten, too, his snow leopard insisted.

  Lance shook his head. The dragonling isn’t her... You know what, I don’t have time for this.

  He pulled to a stop and looked across at Keeley in the passenger seat. Warmth flooded through his body as he reached for her hand, an electric thrill of anticipation already whipping across his skin—

  Chomp!

  “Ow,” Lance muttered, shaking his finger as Keeley exclaimed, “Maggie! No biting!”

  “Prr-eep-eep!” Maggie argued back, her head-spines bristling. She glared at Keeley and Lance in turn, hissed, and burrowed back into the box Lance had found and filled with her ever-growing hoard.

  “What is up with her this morning?” Keeley pushed her hair off her face. Her stormy eyes were troubled. “She’s been tetchy ever since she woke up. And she hardly ate anything for breakfast. I hope she isn’t getting sick.”

  Lance reached out psychically to the tiny grumpy dragon. Her response was the telepathic equivalent of another bite. He sighed.

  “I think she’s jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Keeley frowned at him, and then her expression cleared. “Oh,” she said, going pink.

  Lance smiled and took her hand. “I told you her psychic powers are ridiculously well developed for her age, didn’t I? She can probably sense the bond between us.”

  “Poor baby,” Keeley murmured. She stuck her free hand into the hoard box to pet Maggie. “Don’t be sad. You’ll be back with your family soon. You won’t even notice we’re gone.”

  “PREEP?”

  Maggie stuck her head out the top of the box, outrage radiating from every golden scale.

  “She didn’t like that,” Lance remarked out the side of his mouth.

  He sent Maggie a burst of reassurance and scratched her under the chin. Maggie accepted the scratches, but still looked suspicious. She gently gnawed on his thumb, and then on Keeley’s pinky finger, before burrowing back into her hoard.

  Lance exchanged a puzzled look with Keeley. He squeezed her hand.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She took a moment to reply. “About…?”

  “You know.” Lance kissed her fingertips. “This isn’t exactly small steps.”

  “No kidding.” For a moment, Keeley’s light-hearted expression slipped, and she looked lost. She took her hand out of Maggie’s hoard box and brushed it against her pocket.

  She wasn’t wearing Lance’s t-shirt today. He’d made several calls the night before while she was putting Maggie to bed, and one of them had been for a full new wardrobe. Keeley had chosen a soft, knee-length knit dress in a navy blue that made her eyes seem even more storm-tossed, with a light cardigan thrown over the top. He’d seen her slip her phone into the cardigan’s pocket back at his apartment.

  “Do you need a charger for that? You can take my office if you need a quiet place to make any calls.”

  Keeley saw him looking and grimaced. “There are some things I have to check in on.” She paused, and Lance couldn’t read the expression on her face. “Stuff from—well, it’s my old life now, I guess.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to leave it behind,” Lance reassured her.

  “Oh, trust me, this is sh—stuff I want to leave behind.”

  “Your cleaning job?” Lance guessed, running the pad of his thumb over her fingers. He frowned. He hadn’t noticed it before—how was that possible?—but there was a fine, pale scar running along two of her knuckles.

  “My job, yeah,” Keeley mumbled.

  Lance lifted her hand into the light. The scar on her knuckles wasn’t the only one.

  “Um.” Keeley pulled her hand away. “Should we get moving?”

  Lance darted around the car to open her door and help her with the hoard box, questions whirling in his mind.

  He took Maggie’s box and led Keeley through to the foyer with his hand on the small of her back. His snow leopard purred with satisfaction as she automatically leaned into him.

  “Welcome to my workplace,” he said. “If you’d been here five years ago, it would have been just me and a desk. Today...” He balanced Maggie’s hoard-box against his hip and flashed his security card to open the door. “Four floors of office and training spaces, a rooftop terrace, and more paperwork than you can possibly imagine.”

  Did he sound too smug about that last part? Probably.

  Keeley blinked, and he hid a smile. He had to admit, the foyer wasn’t exactly impressive. He was proud of that. Any stray door-to-door marketers or time-wasters would find themselves faced with an elevator that didn’t work, a reception desk that wasn’t staffed, and a reception bell that would ring exactly four times before falling silent with a dispiriting whonk-whonk sound.

  And then there was the smell. Damp, with a hint of desperation.

  It also had a fully integrated defense and shutdown system, bullet-proof windows, and rhinoceros-proof internal walls—but those were a bit harder for the average onlooker to spot.

  “It’s... nice,” Keeley managed, and Lance laughed.

  “It’s a deliberate amalgamation of the worst aspects of the worst office buildings in the city,” he explained. “From the front end, at least. A friend and I spent months researching just what makes office buildings so depressing—ah, never mind.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. Francine had been the one who handled the interior design—a fun distraction from her high-class hotel projects, she’d called it.

  Back when they’d been friends. Before he failed her.

  Lance pressed his thumb against the elevator button. It looked like your standard elevator button, complete with suspicious greasy smear, but it was calibrated to only respond to the thumbprint of employees of the agency.

  “Come on. My first meeting for the day should be arriving soon.”

  He checked his phone as the elevator doors closed and found a message from Briers. Dissatisfaction prickled from every word.

  Lance chuckled softly. “Make that now.” He turned to Keel
ey. “Time for you to meet another of the old crowd.”

  “Preep?” Maggie poked her snout over the edge of her box. She flicked her tongue out at Keeley, then turned her shining eyes on Lance. “Prr-eeep?”

  “We’re going to the roof?” Keeley asked as he pressed the button for the top floor. “Is that safe for Maggie?”

  “Preep?”

  “Don’t you give me that look, Maggie. I saw you jumping off the kitchen table last night. I don’t want you jumping off the side of a building, too.” Keeley frowned and bit her bottom lip. “And—what if someone sees her?”

  “You’d better hold her.” Lance grinned as Keeley bundled the wriggling dragonling into her arms. “She’s going to be a handful when she’s bigger.”

  “She’s an entire armful now,” Keeley shot back. “Ow. Claws, Maggie. I hope your uncle has tougher skin than I do.”

  Her words made Lance’s snow leopard prickle. It stalked inside him, unhappy but not letting Lance know why. Lance frowned, but whatever had upset it, it refused to explain.

  If you can’t figure it out yourself, I’m not telling you, it sniffed, whiskers bristling.

  Suit yourself. Lance pushed his snow leopard’s moodiness to the back of his mind as the elevator doors opened. The elevator opened out into a window-lined room with a view of the roof.

  The agency didn’t have a helipad. Wrong zone, too many restrictions. None of which apparently meant anything to the pilot gently easing a shiny black chopper down on the roof.

  Lance sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Damn it, Harley.

  Well, he’d told him the risks. The people who’d tried to take Maggie were still at large. Clearly, Harley thought the best solution was not letting his feet or the eggs touch the ground between Lance’s aunt’s place and the agency.

  Briers was already there, watching the helicopter land with his hands clasped behind his back.

  Lance greeted him with a nod. “Everything ready to go today?”

  Briers’ mouth went pinched as he looked back out the window. “I would prefer it if you’d let me use my contacts for this part of the mission. Is this Harley Ames even licensed?”