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  Mr. Fourchier stepped up to the center of attention again and held his hands up for silence. It didn’t work. He spoke into the microphone, trying to speak over the kids and finally gave up after a good five minutes. He looked over at Ram with a helpless shrug.

  The lion shifter lead singer stood and motioned for the other guys in the band to join him in the front of the crowd. The kids’ screams became wilder, shriller as their idols waved at them. Kitty glanced over at Daisy who was beaming at her mate, pride shining in her eyes. It was a great look for her cousin and she wished them all the happiness in the world, except Kitty couldn’t completely stifle the kernel of jealousy she felt at seeing the love evident between the newly mated couple.

  She gave a mental headshake. She’d long given up on meeting a male she could trust with her heart again. The pain of Monk’s betrayal had scarred her and prevented her from getting close to anyone, even sexually, for a long time. One day, after several months of dodging phone calls and surprise visits and flowers and candy, she’d finally caved and agreed to go on a date with a wolf shifter who’d worked as a hair stylist for one of her first runway shows. He’d seemed harmless enough and part of her figured he just wanted to get his hands on her hair, but as it turned out, they’d become good friends and even better lovers. They’d broken their sexual relationship off when Colby met his mate, but they remained good friends. He’d helped Kitty get over a lot of her issues simply by explaining it wasn’t her fault her first love had been a fucked-up hick.

  Now, years later, Kitty reveled in her sexual appeal. She’d had several lovers, some human, some shifters, but they’d all been friends she stayed in touch with. They’d become extended family. There was no jealousy or hurt feelings when the sex ended because they all knew it wasn’t going to last. It suited her hectic life, although part of her, a very small part of her, still wished to find someone who could pierce through the shields she built up after Monk.

  Looking at Daisy go all soft and glowy for Ram, Kitty thought it might be possible for her. Maybe one day when I’m not trying to make my mark on the fashion world. She sighed softly, but smiled when her cousin looked her way questioningly. One day.

  Once the band gave their thanks to the audience and talked a bit about their plans to lure more musicians to the area, they promised to stick around for autographs after the assembly was over. The crowd settled down again and Mr. Fourchier returned to the front of the gym.

  “It’s time for the most important part of tonight’s gathering. I’m pleased to welcome Ramsey and the other members of Saber to our community and I hope they’ll learn to love it as much as we do. It’s always exciting to have celebrities in our midst, but it’s even more exciting when they’re one of our very own.” His small blue eyes zeroed in on Kitty who froze like a deer in headlights. “Kitty Chambers graduated from Pointe-Aux-Chat High School. She probably sat in this very gym at one point as bored as you students are now. But Kitty had a dream.” He looked somewhere over her head and nodded.

  The lights went down and the big screen lit up again. This time though, it showed her high school graduation picture. A voice started speaking over the montage of pictures from her childhood. She recognized that voice as belonging to the back-stabbing bear sitting next to her. Kitty almost slid from her chair in mortification, but Daisy wouldn’t let her go.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she whispered to her cousin, her bear not liking this any more than she did. “I’m going to skin you al—”

  She lost all capacity for speech because there, on the huge television, was the picture she’d had in her locker of her and Monk. Her stomach flipped upside down. She’d thought that picture long gone. Her gaze skittered over to the male who shared the screen with her to see he still watched her, although this time he didn’t look pissed. Movement to the side of him drew her attention and she stiffened at the sight of Callie Hebert sitting next to Monk. As though they were a couple. Still. She glanced back at Monk, but he didn’t even pay Callie any heed.

  Kitty looked away again because—God the expression on his face fucked her up emotionally. As if he were proud of her or something, but why should he even fucking care?

  She breathed a sigh of relief as the picture slideshow moved beyond her high-school years to her life in New York. She frowned. Some of those pictures had been taken backstage at runway shows, or at private cocktail parties.

  “How?” she asked Daisy in a low voice.

  “I called your friends and they sent me what pictures they had of you,” Daisy whispered. “Girl, I had no idea you’d dated Steven Hains. Why didn’t you tell me? Do you still talk to him? Can you get me an auto—?”

  A big hand clamped over Daisy’s mouth, interrupting her whispered gushing. “Let’s not talk about other males while you’re sitting next to me, baby,” Ram said to his mate before hauling her tight against him.

  Still not liking becoming the focus of attention, Kitty squirmed as the narration continued, outlining the awards she’d won, the celebrities who wore her designs, and the fact that she was one of the few designers who made clothing strictly for shifters. She couldn’t help but preen at that last part. She took great pride in knowing all of her designs were shifter-friendly, meaning they were easy to get out of when shapeshifting from human to beast. It’d taken her years of experimenting with seams and draping before she perfected her art.

  “Her designs have been featured in industry magazines as well as red carpet premiers and she’s only just begun. Maison Rouge is proud to welcome home our very own Kitty Chambers.”

  Chapter Three

  The lights came back up as applause broke out through the gym. Kitty’s cheeks burned from embarrassment, but she didn’t resist when Daisy pushed her to her feet. She hadn’t expected this at all, didn’t even want it. But then she made the mistake of glancing over at her parents. Her mama had tears streaming down her face and her dad, always so stoic, looked as though he was about to explode from pride.

  Straightening her shoulders, she stood tall and plastered a fake smile on her face as Mr. Fourchier approached with the microphone and a massive key in his hands. Oh God, someone shoot me. This was just too fucking bizarre.

  “On behalf of the Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish government, I’d like to present Kitty Chambers with the key to the city of Maison Rouge. We’re all very proud of her accomplishments and in honor of her achievements, we’ve named tomorrow, February 16, Kitty Chambers Day!” He extended the key in her direction.

  Numb with disbelief and incredulity, Kitty accepted the heavy brass key. She stared at it long and hard since she’d never actually seen one of them in person. It was inscribed with the words, Presented on this 15th day of February, 2012 to Kitty Chambers in honor of her achievements. The people of Pointe-Aux-Chat are proud to call you our own.

  She barely had time to marvel at the thing before something else was thrust in front of her face. The microphone. Startled, she shook her head at Mr. Fourchier, who only smiled brightly and grabbed her hand to haul her in front of the big screen. Damn boar shifters.

  Oh God, oh God. She’d talked in front of the toughest crowds during fashion week, but the thought of speaking in front of her hometown scared the ever lovin’ shit out of her. There was no time to get out of it because the microphone was slapped in her hand and she was given a gentle shove forward.

  Heart hammering and palms sweaty, Kitty looked at the mass of people staring at her. She’d avoided peering into the stands, but now she had no choice. She recognized a lot of faces, although they’d changed over the years. They weren’t baying for her blood, weren’t passing out rotten vegetables or stones to throw. They appeared genuinely happy for her.

  She cleared her throat. Here goes nothing. “Thank you,” she blurted because that seemed the right thing to do. You were supposed to start off a speech that way. Maybe she’d have to find Mrs. Simmons after the assembly to find out how she did. “When I came home, I never expected this.” Truth. She’d expecte
d to be run out of the parish at the very least, burned at the stake like Hester Prynne at the very worst. So yeah, this was a pleasant surprise.

  Movement in the front row caught her attention and she saw her dad wrap his arm around her mom’s shoulders. Their presence steadied her. Her voice gained strength. “Having a dream is easy. Everyone dreams of something, whether it’s fortune or fame, but not everyone can achieve those dreams. I’m one of the lucky few. As I’m sure the guys in the band can tell you,” she said with a nod toward Ram, Nick, Craig, Trick and Leland, “it takes a lot of hard work and dedication, but most of all, it takes sacrifice. I gave up a lot to follow my dream. I left my family, my friends, and the only home I’d ever known.” She looked over at her parents. “Success isn’t much without those you love to share it with you. Mom, Dad, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your support. Thank you. I also have to thank Daisy who modeled designs I came up with long before I knew what I was doing.” She laughed and smiled at her cousin. “I should pay you back for this by showing the pictures I took of you in my creations.”

  Daisy’s face paled. “Don’t you dare!”

  The audience laughed, some of the seriousness fading. Kitty sighed. “Just thank y’all from the bottom of my heart.” Mr. Fourchier fidgeted, drawing her attention. “Before I hand the mic back over, I’d like to say how proud I am of our parish government for their proactive plans to change Pointe-Aux-Chat. This is an amazing part of the world and it’s time we showcase it. Thank you.”

  She passed the mic and made her way back to her chair with buckling knees. She fell onto the hard seat, not caring that it sent a spike of pain up her tailbone. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” she muttered to Daisy, who was grinning at her like the Cheshire cat.

  “You’ll have to go through Ram to get me,” her cousin muttered back.

  Kitty rested her head on Daisy’s shoulder, loving her cousin all the more for doing this for her. Turning the massive key over in her hands, she mused that it eased some of her past pain to be accepted and appreciated for her success. Her heartbreak had led to some amazing life experiences, so maybe it hadn’t been all that bad.

  Of course, that still didn’t mean she was going to forgive Monk for it. If he even tried to talk to her as if the past never happened, she’d have to castrate him with a very dull knife.

  * * * * *

  Monk leaned against the wall, watching as the townspeople approached Kitty to hug her, shake her hand, take pictures with her, or get her autograph. She handled everything with ease, smiling and chatting with everyone. Even better, she seemed to be enjoying herself, pulling names out of her impressive memory to put with the faces that must be blurring in front of her eyes. She was simply amazing.

  Nick tugged on a lock of her sleek black hair, making her laugh and bat at him. Monk gritted his teeth. It was as though the bastard wanted to be fed his own teeth. Every time he looked, the tiger was standing right next to Kitty, teasing her, making her laugh, giving her what looked like innocent touches, but every male recognized as a way of getting a female accustomed to your hand.

  “You’re such a head case,” Daisy Lynn said, coming to join him along the wall without Monk realizing it.

  He grunted at her. He and Daisy Lynn’s relationship had improved by leaps and bounds since they’d had their forced confrontation a couple of months before. She understood why he’d broken Kitty’s heart and he understood she’d always take Kitty’s side of any argument. Since Monk was all about protecting his mate, he appreciated Daisy Lynn’s stance when it came to her cousin.

  She sighed. “Look, I didn’t want to get involved in this thing between y’all. She’s my best friend, you know? And as much as I’ve enjoyed rekindling our friendship, she comes first.” Her words were an eerie echo of his thoughts, something that she’d always managed to do when they were younger.

  “I know that.”

  “It’s just, after talking with some of her friends in New York when I was putting that clip together I realized Kitty has a whole life up there. She’s happy. She misses her family, but this town holds nothing but painful memories for her.”

  Now that hurt to hear. “She hasn’t mated,” he pointed out. “Kitty always dreamed of getting mated and married.” At least that’s what she’d said when they were dating and talking about the future. Designing had been a secondary dream for her then. Fuck. He’d changed her goals by forcing that scene on her.

  Daisy Lynn’s voice when she spoke again was uncommonly gentle. “She doesn’t want that anymore, Monk. We were talking about mating and the wedding and all she said was that she was glad she’d decided to stay unmated so she could enjoy the single life.” The scent of her unease was sharp. “I think she has a lot of…um, friends back home that she’s fond of.”

  The cougar screamed in Monk’s mind, jealousy lending a red cast to his vision. Without conscious thought, he pushed away from the wall and headed in her direction. Daisy Lynn tried stopping him, but a near-silent hiss made her back off with her hands up and a look of chagrin on her face. Yeah, she’d opened a can of worms she probably wished she hadn’t, but Monk was actually glad he knew about Kitty’s other male friends. Because he was going to show his erstwhile mate that no one would ever love her as much as he did.

  * * * * *

  Kitty couldn’t believe how normal everything seemed, well, except for the whole people gawking at her as if she would suddenly spout another head thing. She was kind of used to that anyway. She might not be a top name in the fashion industry yet, but she’d dated a few celebrities who were fawned over all the time. She mostly went ignored, although there were some instances when she became the focus of attention with people wondering who she was, why she was with so-and-so, and if she was worth asking for an autograph.

  It was a little weird to have the same people she’d feared from high school approach with their mates and kids, boasting about who sat next to her in English, or who was there when she tripped on the stadium bleachers and took out the whole dance team. It was embarrassing, but in a way she could handle. She’d forgotten about most of the things they mentioned, her whole past seemingly wiped out once Monk pulled his bullshit, yet those were the things her former classmates mentioned. No one even talked about them dating. They all wanted to focus on Steve Hains, the eagle shifter movie star, or Hank Morales, the polar bear boxer, or Ridley Scott, the golden bear shifter rugby player.

  The entire time she chatted with people, Nick refused to leave her alone, pinching her arm, tugging at her hair or otherwise needling her until she was laughing hysterically. There was no arousal in his scent toward her, and despite the earlier flap where he’d breathed against her ear, Kitty wasn’t that attracted to him. He would insert himself in the conversation when he wasn’t besieged by rabid teenage fans, making all the women laugh and flirt back with him.

  It was embarrassing and flattering and kind of nuts, but she loved every minute of it because the women wanted to ask her about her designs, Daisy’s wedding gown and the runway shows. Oh, and when they’d be able to afford her creations.

  Kitty laughed. “I’ve actually been in talks with a few major department stores. I have a line in mind that I think would be fantastic for the everyday shifter woman, you know? I’m hoping we can wrap up talks soon and get into production within the next two years. As soon as I know I’ll—”

  A big hand wrapped around her arm and tugged her away from the group. Heat scorched her through the material of her suit, the long-healed mating bite on her shoulder buzzing with sudden life. Whipping her head around, Kitty could only gape at Monk, whose gaze shot around the gym until he zeroed in on the doors leading to the locker rooms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice coming out high and breathless rather than cool and demanding.

  Butterflies in her belly heralded the return of an arousal she hadn’t felt since she was seventeen. She hadn’t understood how priceless the chemistry between her and Monk
was; she thought everyone felt that way. It’d taken her years to understand that while sex was good with other males, with Monk it had been amazingly mind-shattering despite the slight pain of losing her virginity.

  The hallway doors leading to the locker rooms burst open with a loud crack and slammed shut behind them. The musky scent of years of sweat, shifters and dampness brought Kitty right back to high school. It wasn’t dark in the hallway, but it wasn’t bright either, the outdated lights giving off just enough of a glow that she could see the glitter in Monk’s eyes when he turned to look at her.

  Her mind told her this was not good at all, but her body practically melted when he gave her that Alpha glare. She didn’t dig the whole dominant-male thing. She actually liked it when she was treated as an equal, but in this moment, with this male, she wanted to drop to her knees in supplication and become his little sex slave.

  No! Bad, Kitty. We’re not going there again. This is one predator who’ll tear us apart and make us wish we were dead. Again. And then her brain had the nerve to give her a play-by-play memory of the days, weeks and months she’d cried herself to sleep in her shoebox of an apartment in New York from heartache and loneliness.

  The memories were a much-needed reality check. Her body was still soft and warm and ready for Monk, but Kitty had proven before that she was stronger than her physical form. She pulled away from him, her wrist snapping out of his hand with enough force to make him stumble a bit.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” she asked in a voice that was all pissed-off grizzly.

  He swiped a hand over his mouth with a wince, but he didn’t look away from her. No, Monk stood his ground just like he had that day he had Callie Hebert’s tongue down his throat. For a moment, she held her breath, her anger abating a little because he looked so pained and nothing like the confident male who’d enthralled a whole gym of people with his plans for the future. If she wasn’t mistaken, he looked…remorseful.