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Authors: Night of the Lions
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to your client, Judith Rossi.”
“Is he?”
“Duval denied he knows anybody named Judith Rossi.”
Cat put on her bra. “He told me that. Why did he kidnap me? First I thought you were somehow connected to my kidnapping. But then you wouldn’t have taken me to the ER if you’re really my kidnapper.”
“Duval was going to blackmail you.”
“Blackmail? Why the hell would he blackmail me? I’m broke.”
“Not for money. He was going to videotape you naked so you would work for him.”
“In his titty bar? The nerve of that son of a bitch.”
“I will give you the pleasure of kicking him around a bit later.”
“Thank you. You’re cooler than I thought. But I’m not happy you bit me last night. Did you see the bruise?”
Gabriel halted her as she was about to put on her blazer. He inspected her shoulder. His eyes narrowed. “Just bruises. Minor puncture wounds. No big laceration. You’ll be fine.”
“Sure. Not to mention the hickies.”
“I like the hickies. It tells people you’re out of circulation. You’re mine.”
Cat sniffed. “I don’t see your name on me.”
“Shall I put it on you?”
She pouted.
Gabriel couldn’t resist kissing her. She hit his shoulder at first, but then she went limp in his arms. She gasped for breath when he released her.
“Don’t distract me with kisses.”
“Can I distract you with sex?”
Her eyes widened. “Jesus Christ. You’re going to kill me, Gabriel Larousse. You’re like that bunny battery that doesn’t have an off button.”
“I thought women liked men with no off button.”
“Horny women, maybe.”
“Horny,” he chided. “This comes from someone who woke me up at midnight for nookie.”
“I didn’t. I was just helping myself. It’s not my fault that your cock is attached to you and that wakes you up.”
Gabe laughed. This woman was funnier than he had thought.
Cat slipped on her pants. “Do you have proof that you’re a shifter?”
“In due time.”
“If you and Duval don’t know my client, I’m beginning to wonder why my client claims to know you.”
“That’s because your client sent you on a wild goose chase. The history is just to throw you off.”
“Why would she do that?”
“My best guess, she wants my dirt. My secrets. Without you knowing why.”
“You don’t know Judith Rossi?”
“No. But I have a good idea who she is.”
“You mean Judith Rossi is a fake identity?”
Gabriel pondered on how much he should divulge to her. Ren and Alex were investigating Rossi at this very moment. Also connecting her to the death of Cat’s brother, Jonathan Kovac. “Her real name is Sophie-Marie Veron.”
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“Veron Industries. They own several banks and financial firms.”
“Why does she have a grudge against you?”
“My dear Catherine, that is a trade secret that I’m not ready to divulge to you.”
* * * *
The man’s name was Danielson. First name, unknown. Cat preferred to call him The Terminator because he had the bulk of Schwarzenegger in his glory days, minus the accent. Danielson was a man of few words. He didn’t talk to her unless he absolutely had to. And, despite his appearance, he moved like a ghost and seemed very knowledgeable about his firearms. Cat guessed he must be ex-military. He looked highly trained to kill in a thousand different ways. Danielson was Gabriel’s head of security and the person in charge of keeping her ass in one piece, unspoiled.
Cat thought the personal detail was overkill.
Sure, that slime bag Oliver Duval had drugged and wanted to take advantage of her, but it wasn’t like her life was being threatened by terrorists or assassins or anything like that. She’d just had an unfortunate run-in with some sleazy smut peddler. No biggie. The risk came with the job as a private investigator.
Gabriel had taken her to see Duval, but it hadn’t been much use. Duval wouldn’t talk to her. Then Gabriel had done
“Is he?”
“Duval denied he knows anybody named Judith Rossi.”
Cat put on her bra. “He told me that. Why did he kidnap me? First I thought you were somehow connected to my kidnapping. But then you wouldn’t have taken me to the ER if you’re really my kidnapper.”
“Duval was going to blackmail you.”
“Blackmail? Why the hell would he blackmail me? I’m broke.”
“Not for money. He was going to videotape you naked so you would work for him.”
“In his titty bar? The nerve of that son of a bitch.”
“I will give you the pleasure of kicking him around a bit later.”
“Thank you. You’re cooler than I thought. But I’m not happy you bit me last night. Did you see the bruise?”
Gabriel halted her as she was about to put on her blazer. He inspected her shoulder. His eyes narrowed. “Just bruises. Minor puncture wounds. No big laceration. You’ll be fine.”
“Sure. Not to mention the hickies.”
“I like the hickies. It tells people you’re out of circulation. You’re mine.”
Cat sniffed. “I don’t see your name on me.”
“Shall I put it on you?”
She pouted.
Gabriel couldn’t resist kissing her. She hit his shoulder at first, but then she went limp in his arms. She gasped for breath when he released her.
“Don’t distract me with kisses.”
“Can I distract you with sex?”
Her eyes widened. “Jesus Christ. You’re going to kill me, Gabriel Larousse. You’re like that bunny battery that doesn’t have an off button.”
“I thought women liked men with no off button.”
“Horny women, maybe.”
“Horny,” he chided. “This comes from someone who woke me up at midnight for nookie.”
“I didn’t. I was just helping myself. It’s not my fault that your cock is attached to you and that wakes you up.”
Gabe laughed. This woman was funnier than he had thought.
Cat slipped on her pants. “Do you have proof that you’re a shifter?”
“In due time.”
“If you and Duval don’t know my client, I’m beginning to wonder why my client claims to know you.”
“That’s because your client sent you on a wild goose chase. The history is just to throw you off.”
“Why would she do that?”
“My best guess, she wants my dirt. My secrets. Without you knowing why.”
“You don’t know Judith Rossi?”
“No. But I have a good idea who she is.”
“You mean Judith Rossi is a fake identity?”
Gabriel pondered on how much he should divulge to her. Ren and Alex were investigating Rossi at this very moment. Also connecting her to the death of Cat’s brother, Jonathan Kovac. “Her real name is Sophie-Marie Veron.”
“I’ve heard that name before.”
“Veron Industries. They own several banks and financial firms.”
“Why does she have a grudge against you?”
“My dear Catherine, that is a trade secret that I’m not ready to divulge to you.”
* * * *
The man’s name was Danielson. First name, unknown. Cat preferred to call him The Terminator because he had the bulk of Schwarzenegger in his glory days, minus the accent. Danielson was a man of few words. He didn’t talk to her unless he absolutely had to. And, despite his appearance, he moved like a ghost and seemed very knowledgeable about his firearms. Cat guessed he must be ex-military. He looked highly trained to kill in a thousand different ways. Danielson was Gabriel’s head of security and the person in charge of keeping her ass in one piece, unspoiled.
Cat thought the personal detail was overkill.
Sure, that slime bag Oliver Duval had drugged and wanted to take advantage of her, but it wasn’t like her life was being threatened by terrorists or assassins or anything like that. She’d just had an unfortunate run-in with some sleazy smut peddler. No biggie. The risk came with the job as a private investigator.
Gabriel had taken her to see Duval, but it hadn’t been much use. Duval wouldn’t talk to her. Then Gabriel had done
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