WILDCAT

KARIMA HEART

"How about you let her go, Romeo? She clearly said to let go." Owain’s voice was cool, almost lazy, as he reached for my hand and tugged me slightly toward him.

Nathan’s jaw flexed, fury sparking in his eyes, but he didn’t move right away.

Owain stepped forward, sliding me behind him like I was something to shield. A mocking smile curled across his lips."Playtime’s over. Your momma’s calling you downstairs."

Nathan’s stare sharpened. "And if I don’t feel like letting her go? What then?"

If Nathan was boiling, Owain was ice. That icy face was what's probably irritating Nathan the most. He was just cool and calm, not even any hint of anger.

"Nothing much," he said smoothly. "I’ll just break your hands and toss them to the dogs I saw outside. Pretty sure your sweet momma wouldn’t like cleaning that mess. So run along, mummy’s boy."

That was it. Nathan’s control snapped. He grabbed Owain by the collar, yanking him so hard his shirt rode halfway up, flashing the white waistband of his boxers.

I froze, my hands half-raised but useless, like my body forgot how to move. As soon as he slammed him against the wall, I snapped out of the coma.

"Stop this, Nathan," I managed to say, grabbing his hand slightly, but my voice only seemed to fall off his ears.

"You think I don’t know what you’re after?" Nathan growled.

Owain’s smirk only deepened. "Guess you're sharper than you look, pretty boy."

"Let him go!" I shouted, but Nathan’s grip didn’t loosen. In fact, it only tightened.

The door creaked open. Victoria’s head appeared, like she was about to spring a surprise, until she saw them.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh f*ck, Nathaniel!"

Whoa. That was new. Victoria didn’t ever swear. Which told me exactly how bad this looked.

She strode in, ripped Nathan’s hands off Owain, and planted herself between them. Owain straightened, brushing invisible dust off his shirt with infuriating calmness.

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "All of you... Answer me. Now!."

I stayed quiet, throat tight. Actually, we all stayed quiet.

"Nothing," Nathan muttered.

Victoria’s brows shot up. "Nothing? Do you take me for a fool?" She turned to me. "Karry?"

"I… I’m sorry, Victoria."

"Sorry doesn’t explain this." Her eyes locked on Owain now. "You two were about to kill each other. Why?"

Owain didn’t miss a beat. "My fault," he said evenly. "I overreacted seeing him put his hands on my sister. Malcolm asked me to keep an eye on her, but Nathan didn’t seem to understand that. I’m sorry it happened my first time here."

It was delivered so smoothly, so convincingly, I almost believed him myself.

Victoria’s expression softened slightly... but not enough to fully buy it. Still, she said nothing more and led us out to the dining area.

"It’s too late for dinner. I’ve had your meal packaged," she said, handing me a warm plastic bag.

She leaned in, hugging me lightly. "I’m sorry about tonight, dear," she whispered behind my ears.

I hugged her back before stepping away.

"Drive safe," she told Owain.

Nathan lingered at the far end of the room, his eyes fixed everywhere but on me. But the stiffness in his shoulders told me everything. He regretted it. At least, part of him did.

I hopped into the car the second we stepped outside. I didn’t say a word, neither did Owain.

I clicked the seat belt. He did the same, then turned the key, the engine humming to life before he eased onto the road.

We hadn’t driven far when he pulled up at a store. I didn’t bother asking why, probably to grab the beer we’d lied to Malcom about.

By the time he came back out, the sky had already started acting funny. A minute ago, it was only chilling. Rain suddenly poured down hard and fast like some sort of miracle.

He jogged to the car, his shirt plastered to his chest, his golden-brown hair now darker and dripping. The wet strands clung to his forehead in a way that was… ridiculously hot. I caught myself staring, then quickly shook my head.

I didn't make it fast before his gaze caught me staring.

“What?” His lips curled. “Crushing on me already?”

I ignored him, turning to the window as if the rain was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

The engine sputtered when he tried to start it again. A rough, choked sound… then silence. He tried once more. Nothing.

He stepped out of the car... Through the rain-blurred glass, I watched him pop the hood. His mouth moved in what was probably a string of swear words before he came back in.

“Car’s overheated,” he said. “We wait for the rain to cool down a bit, then grab a cab.”

I stayed quiet, still.

Then, without warning, he started peeling his shirt over his head. My gaze snapped to him instantly.

“Excuse me, what the hell are you doing?”

He gave me a look like I'd just spoken in a language only aliens understood. “What does it look like? Taking my shirt off.”

“I mean why?”

“Because I’m soaked,” he said flatly, “and apparently someone in this car doesn’t care if I freeze to death.”

“You have a dry shirt in here? What, you just carry spare clothes around?”

“Yes,” he muttered, rummaging in the back. “It’s called being prepared.”

I scoffed and turned my face away, pretending I didn’t care. The sound of him rustling the fabric as he slipped into a fresh shirt filled my ears... And it was doing something to me… Something sinful... and my imagination. God, I could almost see it, his chest, his abs, the way the muscles would flex when he moved.

Karima, stop it. I scolded myself silently.

“Stop being hard on yourself,” his voice dipped lower, lazy but sharp, almost sounding arousing itself. “You can take a look if you want to. I don’t bite.”

“Like I care?” I shot back, but it came out weaker than I wanted. Of course, I cared. My pulse was racing, my palms clammy, and for some reason… oh, hell no… I was wet. I didn’t even know why. He hadn’t really done anything.

Or maybe he had.

“So…” he started, his tone curling around me like heat, “Remember what you said back at the hotel? When you were wet for me but wouldn’t admit it?” His smirk was audible. “And yeah… you told me to watch out for your wild side. What happened? Spirit gone down?”

My head snapped toward him, ready to bark something back... but I froze.

Because his face was already right there, barely an inch away, his breath warm against my lips. I didn’t dare breathe. My chest rose and fell faster, and every nerve in my body stood on edge.

“Or…” he murmured, his eyes dragging down my face to my mouth, “…how about you show me just how wild you can be, wild cat?”