PrimalFlavor Page 5

  Zach turned to face the man, who until that fateful day in the swamps had been the most important man in Colette’s life, studying him carefully. Time hadn’t bowed her father’s shoulders or curled his back. He stood straight and proud, his sharp eyes missing nothing. Zach and the older man studied each other like opponents, which Zach supposed they were since they wanted different things for the same woman.

  “Mr. Robicheaux,” he greeted Colette’s father politely and glanced at the men on either side of him, acknowledging them as well. “Can I help you with something?”

  The man in the center opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the front door of the bakery slammed open and a familiar female voice shouted, “Daddy!”

  Zach’s tiger went from mildly interested to eager, tail-twitching excitement. His eyes went to the empty space behind the men, his senses expanding as though he could feel her approach. He caught a scent carried in by a sultry breeze from outside that made his tiger purr and his cock threaten to leap out of his jeans. The luscious scent that haunted his dreams, making him come all over his sheets like a teenager for nearly a full week, preceded Colette’s reentrance into his life.

  And then she appeared behind her relatives. Sort of. He saw the top a white-blonde head over the middle man’s shoulder before a pair of anxious violet eyes peeked over it, searching out and finding his. Since this was his first time seeing her without the shadows of the swamp or her baseball hat, Zach felt as though someone had just slammed him right between the eyes with a two-by-four.

  She wasn’t pretty. Not in a classical, or even in a girl-next-door way. She was so much more than that. She looked exotic and wild, the features and colors that made up Colette Robicheaux appealing to his tiger on a visceral level. It started with her unusual eye color combined with her darker skin and ended with the shock of white-blonde hair she had pulled into a sloppy ponytail. The silkiness of the strands straggling down the sides of her face and along her slender neck told him it was her natural color. He’d seen plenty of women who’d bleached their hair to get the same color only to end up with strands with the consistency of straw.

  There was no way Colette Robicheaux would ever pass for drop-dead gorgeous by society’s standards, but then Zach had never followed the herd. If he had, he would’ve done like every other male tiger shifter he’d ever met and set out for a nomadic lifestyle. Instead, he returned to his hometown and became a chef, a very domestic career choice for a cat species known for wandering far and wide. And he was fine with that. He enjoyed his career, enjoyed being his own man and not following trends. It was what made him a good chef. He did what he wanted, not what current fashion or trends demanded.

  Colette was not the kind of woman who’d ever grace a magazine unless it was about women and guns or hunting. She wouldn’t prance around in a bikini or spend hours looking for the perfect pair of shoes to go with a purse. When her dad shifted to the side, allowing Zach a better look at her, he almost smiled. She was a fashionista’s nightmare and if his friend Kitty saw the human in her current getup, she’d probably faint dead away. The woman who’d been haunting Zach’s dreams for the last week wore a sleeveless t-shirt with the acronym B.A.S.T. on the front, another pair of tattered jeans and boots that belonged on a construction site. It was over a hundred degrees outside and sweat clung to her skin, giving it a glittery quality that left him with a sudden hunger to treat her like a salt lick, yet she didn’t seem fazed in the least by the heat.

  The hesitancy in her gaze disappeared when she saw him, replaced by the same hunger and determination he’d seen on her face that day in the swamp. “Daddy,” she said to the man standing in front of her. “I know Mama said she wanted that special cake from here, but I don’t think she meant you had to go in the kitchen to get it.” She flicked a curious glance around his spotless, busy workspace, sniffing the air curiously, and wrinkled her nose. Then she settled a decidedly disinterested look on him. “I don’t see what the big deal is though. A cake’s a cake.” But her gaze said she was talking about him.

  The dismissal in her voice set his tiger to pacing in agitation. He didn’t know what infuriated him more, that she didn’t see anything special about him, or his cakes. People came from all over the country to entice him to bake for them. Women fell over themselves to get his attention even if they smelled as though they were scared when they had it. Was she insinuating that any man would do? Or did she really mean she didn’t think his cake was anything to write home about? Both thoughts agitated him, stirred up his tiger and his pride until he was nearly crazed.

  Zach forced himself to calm and studied her closely. There was no way she meant it. She had to be downplaying her interest in him, and his food, so her father didn’t have an aneurysm. Then she looked away with a yawn. Zach had to remind himself—and his animal—that she was human. They were stupid sometimes. Maybe she hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the swamp, didn’t realize his peak physical condition, the size of his cock, the muscles that would ensure he could protect and tend to her as needed. He had to fight the urge to strip out of his “uniform” of chef’s coat and cargo pants to show her now.

  Instead, he waited until she glanced his way again and shot her a look so heated and hungry her cheeks turned dark pink and her pretty, kissable lips parted on a silent breath. There. That’s what he wanted to see. The reminder that they’d shared a kiss so intense it’d left him with an obsession over her mouth. The tiger was satisfied she finally recalled how good they were together. The chef still wasn’t satisfied, but he began devising ways to bring her around to his point of view.

  As for her relatives? Her father and the uncles she was so worried about, the ones who’d invaded Zach’s territory and thought to keep him from doing what he wanted with her? They bristled at the look. Her daddy reached for the bulge on his side with a muttered curse.

  Things were just about to get very interesting.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. After a week of working herself to the bone in an effort to fall asleep without having to masturbate like a horny teenager, she was standing right where she’d sworn she wouldn’t go. Colette had made a promise to herself after telling her daddy and uncle an abbreviated story about her meeting with the tiger that she would have nothing to do with him ever again. She’d even sworn to go on a diet, forgoing her Trahan’s Bakery desserts as a way to cut off contact with him permanently. It would kill her to stop having her treats shipped to her post office box, but she’d do it if it meant staying off the radar.

  But word had come to Bayou Ange about a shifter, a big, arrogant bastard of a cat asking about the lone female Robicheaux. Everyone in her family and extended family had gathered at her Papaw Blue’s house for a discussion that had resulted in five fights, the consumption of a whole roasted pig, several cases of beer and shouts of revolution. Thankfully Colette had managed to wrestle the sniper rifle out of her grandfather’s hands and prevented him from going on a big-game hunt.

  Everything would have blown over if her mama hadn’t decided she absolutely needed a cake from Trahan’s bakery. Colette had argued for a solid twenty minutes with her mother about that damn cake, drowning in a miasma of exasperation over her mom’s stubbornness and an intense need for the Trahan Triple Decadence Chocolate cake. Feeling herself weaken with the envie to have that cake and eye Zach’s fine body, she’d promised to bake one for her mom if she just let it go, forgetting for a moment that she was a complete disaster in the kitchen. The silence that followed this stunning revelation was when they both heard the unmistakable roar of her dad’s truck.

  Her mom hadn’t even seemed surprised when Colette ran out the door and hopped in her own truck to go after him. No, her mom’s hysterical laughter and rapid French told her that Laurette-Marie was on the phone with her aunt, the two of them getting a kick out of the excitement happening in Bayou Ange.

  Colette spent the thirty-minute drive to Maison Rouge imagining all kinds of horrific scenarios. She�
��d pictured her daddy shooting Zach dead and winding up in prison. She’d pictured Zach mauling her daddy and ending up in prison. Yet entering the bakery with the scent of delicious sweets permeating the air to see her daddy and uncles standing shoulder-to-shoulder facing a relaxed and almost indolent Zach hadn’t appeared in any of her imaginings.

  The stupid tiger didn’t seem to realize he was in danger. She tried to ignore the heat that flared in her lower abdomen when she saw him again, especially when he looked a million times yummier than the desserts lining the showcases of his shop. The aura of his power seemed to seep from every inch of the shiny, modern appliances and worktables. He looked like a king and seeing him in the light reminded her of just how beautiful he was. A bandana covered most of his head, but she could see the strands of black, gold and white peeking out the back. It gave him a piratical appearance, which was only compounded by his sensual topaz eyes.

  Then he sent her that look. It was a look she’d never been the focus of before and it nearly buckled her knees. The heat and intent in that gaze said he had plans for her and they didn’t involve playing cards. It was the kind of stare her body recognized as a silent promise, reminding her of how well he kissed, how easily he made her forget everything. Heat and moisture flooded her pussy even as her nipples hardened into sharp, throbbing peaks. His eyelids lowered even farther in a blatant come-hither glance that had her feet moving before she realized it, obeying his silent command without thought. Only the solid wall of her relatives in front of her kept her from making a complete fool of herself.

  And that’s when her daddy reached for his gun. Colette nearly had a heart attack, but luckily her Uncle Tudu was a little less rash and caught his brother’s arm, stopping him. “Jail time, Willis. You promised Mama you wouldn’t shoot anyone.”

  Her dad stopped trying to whip out his gun and levered one finger at the tiger shifter who didn’t seem to realize how close he’d just come to being murdered in his own kitchen. In a voice that would’ve made an evangelical preacher jealous, he thundered, “You stay away from my daughter, y’hear? She doesn’t need trouble like you.”

  God, please strike me dead. But of course He didn’t. Colette had to suffer through the pitying and amused looks from everyone in the damn building. How many women her age had to put up with an overprotective father who seemed ready to go to prison over his daughter? She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to that question. She only wanted the embarrassment and humiliation to end.

  She shot Zach an agonized look. He didn’t seem as relaxed now. If anything, he appeared highly pissed off. Either he didn’t like being threatened, or he didn’t like anyone implying that he would want anything to do with a human in the first place. The fury on his face was enough to make Colette glad she wasn’t the focus of that look, even though she didn’t want her dad to be the target either.

  To prevent anyone from spilling first blood, Colette touched her dad’s tense shoulder. She cast a quick glance around the bakery, trying to judge the audience. Since the chances of anyone knowing Cajun French were low, she addressed him in that language to give them a little privacy. “He doesn’t really want me. He’s just trying to get you riled up.”

  It didn’t seem to help her dad’s tension much, but at least he seemed less likely to go for Zach’s throat. She glanced over at the tiger, who apparently wanted to be the victim of a homicide case. He stared back at her, his gaze thoughtful, as though he were trying to see inside her mind. That was definitely a place she didn’t need him or anyone else and she broke eye contact with him immediately.

  “C’mon, Dad. We don’t need one of those cakes. Let’s just get back to the office. We have a group coming in two hours and we still have to get the boats ready if we’re going to fill our tags, yeah?” If there was one way she could distract her dad, it was by mentioning hunting. The only thing that made Willis Robicheaux as happy as being with his beloved Laurette-Marie was hunting, pitting his wits against his prey. “And I’m sure Mom could probably use some help getting the bait ready. You know how she sometimes doesn’t use enough sauce.”

  He shot her a wry look over his shoulder, one that said he knew she’d cooked that half-assed story up as a way to draw him away from his goal for the day. But he didn’t fight her. He glanced back at Zach, who hadn’t taken his gaze off Colette.

  “Just stay away from her, yeah? There are places we could leave you where no one would ever find you.”

  Colette swallowed a groan and made a mental note to send her mom a text saying to expect Sheriff Picou sometime today. She had no doubt someone would call him, or was in the process of calling him to let him know that one of the crazy Robicheauxs had just threatened Pointe-Aux-Chat Parish’s beloved baker. Which meant Father Bryan would make yet another futile attempt to coax them into attending St. Patrick’s services.

  Joy.

  “C’mon, y’all, we got work to do,” she urged, hoping the reminder that alligator season was starting the following day would motivate the older men to vacate the building.

  It did, but it was like herding cats. None of them wanted to turn their backs on the real feline standing on the other side of the room. There was a lot of bumping into each other and the door, snarling at each other and muttered curses until Colette managed to drag her daddy and uncles out of the bakery, the crowd in the lobby parting for them like the Red Sea.

  The smothering heat should have made it impossible for her to feel anything except misery, but when she turned around with her family in tow, it was to see nearly the entire town of Maison Rouge blatantly staring at them. As if they were freaks in a circus. If her face got any hotter, she’d probably burst into flame, yet she didn’t lower her gaze from the curious eyes staring at them.

  Nothing to see here, people. Just the parish misfits visiting. Carry on.

  Colette kept her head high, leading the way through the throng of respectable Maison Rougians to the trucks parked down the street. Her mother was going to have a cow when she told her about this and it was all Zach Trahan’s fault. She kept chanting that in the back of her mind as she walked toward her truck, her dad and uncles talking behind her. They’d already moved on to what concerned them now, the upcoming gator season, but Colette was left stewing in embarrassment and regret.

  She didn’t know what bothered her more, Zach’s silence when he was threatened by her dad, or that she cared at all. She was an idiot for worrying over it. He’d given her that look to remind her of the kiss to stir up trouble. She knew enough about Zach to know he was one for finding mischief. He fought with Monk Badeaux on a regular basis and everyone in the parish knew Monk was the most easygoing man ever. So yeah, she knew he’d only looked at her so provocatively to make her dad angry. Which he was.

  Mission accomplished. But her stupid heart ached anyway.

  Glowering at the crowd around her, she stepped up to her truck and looked back to make sure her dad and uncles were doing the same when her gaze collided with a pair of ice-blue eyes. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up as she performed a quick analysis of the man staring at her so blatantly. Handsome in a pretty-boy way, swarthy skin with perfectly cut, russet-brown hair, he was tall and lean, his strength evident despite his rangy build. The gray uniform he wore was as familiar as her face in the mirror.

  “Game warden,” Uncle Frog spat out under his breath, but loudly enough for her to hear several feet away.

  Colette broke off her staring contest with the stranger, noting he stood with the Schumacher boys. Her skin pebbled as a case of the frissons erupted. There was something very wrong about seeing a member of the Wildlife and Fisheries Strike Force hanging with two of the shifters responsible for slaughtering doe out of season. Especially since there was a weird unity about the trio, as though they were friends. That shouldn’t have been the case after her call to the LDWF. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the whole picture unsettled her.

  “Let’s go,” her dad called out, rousing Colette
from her uneasy musings. A glance in his direction showed he appeared just as uncomfortable as she felt. Somehow though, she didn’t think it was his usual distrust of the people who wore the gray uniform. “We’ll follow behind you.”

  She nodded and climbed into her truck. She no longer cared about the crowds of onlookers staring at and gossiping about her family. No, there was something really weird going on. She felt the sudden need to gather her family close to protect them and herself. It was an instinct that went beyond a hunter’s unease for game wardens. This was something instinctive, like primitive knowledge that a storm was coming. How and when it would hit, though, was anyone’s guess.

  As she drove in front of the bakery, movement caught her attention. Zach stood at the window, his eyes boring holes through her windshield, compelling her to look at him. But she didn’t turn her head. Couldn’t. With a strange new game warden in town, there was no telling what trouble he would stir up. In this case, family won out over lust, no matter how much her body wished differently.

  Chapter Five

  The tiger hunted, slinking through the swamp, led by instinct. It followed a different path from the one it’d taken the previous week because this time he wasn’t in search of the kind of prey he could eat. No, this time he was after the female who’d foolishly pretended she didn’t want him. His ears flattened, a dangerous growl rumbling in his chest that had the nocturnal animals scurrying for cover.

  Yeah, he hadn’t liked the implied disinterest from Colette, especially after he’d scented her desire for him, kissed her plump lips. Things couldn’t have changed that drastically in a week, could they? No. The tiger shook the thought away like a bothersome fly. She’d been lying, mostly to her family, but a part of him worried she was lying to herself for some reason. It’d taken all his considerable willpower not to storm through the flimsy barrier of her protective relatives, throw her over his shoulder and take her to his office where he could paddle her ass in private. Maybe give it a kiss or two between swats, but whatever.