never a dull moment with you.” He pushed the loose tendrils of her hair from her cheek.
“You completed the claiming.” Her voice was raw and as much as she wanted to be angry, she turned her head so he wouldn’t see the slight lift in her lips.
“Are we going to fight about this, too?”
“I’m too tired to argue. I’ll take it up with you in the morning. After a good strong cup of coffee and before we start tracking those hunters.” She snuggled into his side.
“I told you I’d take care of the poachers.”
She yawned. “Uh-huh, but I already have their scent.”
Chapter Seven
Her muscles ached in places that hadn’t had a workout in a while, and every time she pressed her thighs together, the sweet spot in her cleft tingled, making her weak in the knees. But her belly gurgled and if she wasn’t careful, she was sure the sounds would wake the gator up. As much as she hated to admit it, she did get a tad cranky when hungry. Tiptoeing away from the bed, she froze when Etienne grunted and flipped over to expose his sculpted chest. Sasha nibbled her bottom lip, entertaining the idea of crawling back under the sheets when her stomach growled again.
She grabbed her cell from the dresser that Etienne had discarded it on. She still hadn’t spoken to Eivan. They’d been playing phone tag over the past few days. Not that he could do anything now. She was thoroughly claimed but the Volkshire clan was her family and she needed to hear the voice of the man she’d come to view as a brother in the worst way. There was also that thing she called a job. She still needed to make her report and get the estimated time of arrival for the convoy coming into town. The last thing on her mental to-do list was to take care of the poachers she’d been stalking.
She’d found the can of coffee in a cabinet. The salty tang of seafood permeated the air when she reheated a bowl of gumbo from the untouched pot. Sasha carefully padded across the deck juggling her cell, a hot mug of chicory coffee and a bowl of gumbo. The sun rose from the swamp and its rays could be seen between the tree trunks burning the mist off the water. She eased into an overstuffed seat, the cell slid from where she’d set it on top of the cup as she carefully set the items down on the patio table. Sasha snatched up the mobile and fingered the screen, pressing the phone log icon. Eivan’s number was at the top of her contact list. She stared at the screen when the faintest rap from below the house reached her ears.
The device fell to the glass surface with a clatter as she leaped from her seat, landing in a crouch next to the table. Her claws burrowed into the timber planks as she narrowed her eyes. Facing the stairway she searched the shadowed recesses of the steps for the source of the sound that caught her attention.
“Tone it down, kitty. My goodness but you folks from Volkshire are jumpy.” Sint appeared on the landing, her hands wrapped around a hefty mug with coils of steam rising from its interior.
“We’re known to have a few enemies,” Sasha replied drily as she straightened only to plop into her seat.
“Yeah, Tee told me.” Sint crossed the deck and sat down in the chair across from Sasha. “So you and Etienne?”
“I suppose.”
Sint chuckled. “Child, from the moans and cries echoing across the inlet last night, I’m pretty sure you passed the ‘suppose’ part very early in the evening. The way you were bawling, Percel and I were sure he might have been killing you. In a good way, of course.”
Sasha sunk down into the cushions, embarrassment warming her cheeks. “I think he put a spell on me,” she whispered.
Sint snorted. “Girl, that gator didn’t put nothin’ on you but some good loving and evidently you needed it. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay. So what do you want?”
“I know you’ve been looking for those men that hurt my Darcel.” Sint narrowed her eyes and smirked, showing just a hint
“You completed the claiming.” Her voice was raw and as much as she wanted to be angry, she turned her head so he wouldn’t see the slight lift in her lips.
“Are we going to fight about this, too?”
“I’m too tired to argue. I’ll take it up with you in the morning. After a good strong cup of coffee and before we start tracking those hunters.” She snuggled into his side.
“I told you I’d take care of the poachers.”
She yawned. “Uh-huh, but I already have their scent.”
Chapter Seven
Her muscles ached in places that hadn’t had a workout in a while, and every time she pressed her thighs together, the sweet spot in her cleft tingled, making her weak in the knees. But her belly gurgled and if she wasn’t careful, she was sure the sounds would wake the gator up. As much as she hated to admit it, she did get a tad cranky when hungry. Tiptoeing away from the bed, she froze when Etienne grunted and flipped over to expose his sculpted chest. Sasha nibbled her bottom lip, entertaining the idea of crawling back under the sheets when her stomach growled again.
She grabbed her cell from the dresser that Etienne had discarded it on. She still hadn’t spoken to Eivan. They’d been playing phone tag over the past few days. Not that he could do anything now. She was thoroughly claimed but the Volkshire clan was her family and she needed to hear the voice of the man she’d come to view as a brother in the worst way. There was also that thing she called a job. She still needed to make her report and get the estimated time of arrival for the convoy coming into town. The last thing on her mental to-do list was to take care of the poachers she’d been stalking.
She’d found the can of coffee in a cabinet. The salty tang of seafood permeated the air when she reheated a bowl of gumbo from the untouched pot. Sasha carefully padded across the deck juggling her cell, a hot mug of chicory coffee and a bowl of gumbo. The sun rose from the swamp and its rays could be seen between the tree trunks burning the mist off the water. She eased into an overstuffed seat, the cell slid from where she’d set it on top of the cup as she carefully set the items down on the patio table. Sasha snatched up the mobile and fingered the screen, pressing the phone log icon. Eivan’s number was at the top of her contact list. She stared at the screen when the faintest rap from below the house reached her ears.
The device fell to the glass surface with a clatter as she leaped from her seat, landing in a crouch next to the table. Her claws burrowed into the timber planks as she narrowed her eyes. Facing the stairway she searched the shadowed recesses of the steps for the source of the sound that caught her attention.
“Tone it down, kitty. My goodness but you folks from Volkshire are jumpy.” Sint appeared on the landing, her hands wrapped around a hefty mug with coils of steam rising from its interior.
“We’re known to have a few enemies,” Sasha replied drily as she straightened only to plop into her seat.
“Yeah, Tee told me.” Sint crossed the deck and sat down in the chair across from Sasha. “So you and Etienne?”
“I suppose.”
Sint chuckled. “Child, from the moans and cries echoing across the inlet last night, I’m pretty sure you passed the ‘suppose’ part very early in the evening. The way you were bawling, Percel and I were sure he might have been killing you. In a good way, of course.”
Sasha sunk down into the cushions, embarrassment warming her cheeks. “I think he put a spell on me,” she whispered.
Sint snorted. “Girl, that gator didn’t put nothin’ on you but some good loving and evidently you needed it. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay. So what do you want?”
“I know you’ve been looking for those men that hurt my Darcel.” Sint narrowed her eyes and smirked, showing just a hint
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