Serengeti Sunrise - By Vivi Andrews Page 0,7

her face.

He yanked his gaze away and locked it back on the road.

She was quicksand. She’d suck him in and trap him here so he’d never be free. He just needed to keep reminding himself of that.

“Don’t worry. I don’t expect you to be gallant and noble.” Her voice was low and smooth, a purring invitation to sin. “Virtue is so overrated. I like my knights rough with their armor a little tarnished around the edges.”

The scent of her twined around him in the cab, the tang of ginger mixed with something dark and rich. Tyler rolled down the window, taking a deep breath of the dry, dusty air in an attempt to get some more blood flowing to his brain instead of diverting to his crotch.

Her knees inched closer again, brushing against the side of his leg. With every bounce along the rutted dirt drive, she edged toward him. If not for the seat belt keeping her back, she probably would have crawled onto his lap. Tyler’s brain began to melt at the thought of her straddling his lap, her lush curves rising above him.

Zoe’d never made any secret of the fact that she wanted him—she wasn’t exactly the coy type—but he’d ignored every hint and passed up every not-so-subtle invitation. If he acknowledged that she wanted him, if he gave her any clue that it was the thought of her he jacked off to in the shower every night, she would never give up.

And he needed her to give up. He couldn’t take much more temptation from Zoe King.

He didn’t need another rock tying him to the ranch. He’d played Atlas too long to want to shoulder any more responsibilities. And Zoe would be a massive weight on his life if he let her in.

You didn’t jilt the Alpha’s sister. Especially when the Alpha was married to your own sister. If Zoe got her hooks into him, Tyler would stay here, trapped on the ranch. Forever.

Shit, if Zoe got her hooks in him, he might not even mind the life sentence.

“Tyler?” Her voice was a throaty rasp that did nothing for his calm.

He realized his knuckles had gone white from his grip on the steering wheel and forced them to loosen as he drove the truck through the main gates and toward the garage.

The ranch had gone through several incarnations before it had ended up as the headquarters for the largest shape-shifter pride in West Texas. Since its first life as a summer bible camp, it had undergone substantial changes, but the clusters of cabins surrounding the communal dining hall had suited the lions perfectly. Another previous owner had added the requisite outbuildings and fencing to turn it into a cattle ranch—though the Three Rocks pride owned just enough cattle to provide their own game on the traditional semi-annual hunts.

With the addition of their own schoolhouse, medical clinic, his garage and a massive greenhouse, they’d done what they could to become their own community, independent of the outside world. Everyone contributed in the pride. Many of their members had telecommuted or worked in town to bring in additional cash, but most of those with jobs in town had lost them in the last month.

In spite of the unwritten rule that everyone work for the good of the pride, the pace of life was slower here. Like their feline cousins, the lion-shifters were sensualists who valued their indulgences and relaxation with a European appreciation. They felt safe enough to reveal their true natures here—in spite of the concerns about the town.

This afternoon was no exception, perfect for a hammock and a cold beer. Shifters basked in the sun in both lion form and human.

And Tyler didn’t see any of it. Zoe consumed every one of his senses as he threaded the tow truck along the service road that twisted through the maintenance buildings, toward his garage.

The cab had begun to feel like a cage. His lion chafed at the restriction, pressing against the inside of his skin.

God, the scent of her. It was killing him. How could she tease him to a frenzy with just a brush of her leg and the heady intoxication of her scent?

“Are you in heat?” His voice lashed across the cab, whip-crack sharp.

The unmated pride females were tucked away during their heat for a damn good reason. The scent of them made the males crazed with lust. It was chemical, uncontrollable. A biological imperative for a sexual marathon. He was hard to the point