The Centaur's Bride: A Mates for Monsters Novella Read online

  He went back to digging through the bucket, dick thankfully shriveling at her presence. He hated her nickname for him, as if he only lived to follow her orders, not be part of the herd he protected. "I'm already working on something."

  "You heard we have visitors."

  He shrugged one shoulder noncommittally.

  "The midget is Toliman's heir. I need you to marry her. The sooner the better."

  Bristling, he shoved the parts bucket back onto its shelf and turned. "Marry her? I thought you wanted nothing to do with humans?"

  Lori lowered her chin, brown eyes flashing with authority. Sometimes he wondered if her sire had been a wild cat instead of a stallion to give her the kind of command she seemed to wield. She spoke in a sultry tenor that brooked no argument. "She's got a realtor coming. One of us needs to marry in, take ownership. Keep her from selling the place or turning it into a tourist trap."

  "Why me?" He exited the storage stall, brushing uncomfortably close to her when she refused to step aside.

  "You're here at the barn more than any of the others. And it's not like you fucking a human could pollute the bloodlines any worse than you already have." She followed at his heels, her voice close to his ear. His skin crawled as if she might nip his flank any moment. He hated it when she tried to pull herd rank on him in human form. "You're probably already half-hard thinking about mounting her, anyway. Do it. I'll tell the other stallions to back off. Just watch out for that friend of hers. She's a piece of work."

  "Mounting's one thing. Marrying's another."

  Did she think Toliman's granddaughter would simply marry a strange ranch hand and sign things over? He bent to pick up the toolbox. "Old Man Toliman kept our secret for decades. Why don't we just tell his granddaughter?"

  Lori stepped so close to him, their boots touched. "Not one word. Our secret died with that old man and it better stay that way."

  A direct order? How was he supposed to build trust strong enough to propose marriage to a human, yet keep that kind of secret? He dropped his gaze, lip curling with distaste at Lori's nearness, and backed up a step. "You expect me to just drop to one knee and propose out of the blue? I have a feeling she's smarter than that."

  "I've seen you in action at the bar, soldier. I know you'll make her swoon. Convince her to be your bride, and I'll ensure you have a place in the herd. A real place, running the wind with the rest of us."

  The idea took hold of him like a lover's hand cupping his balls. He'd dreamed of running with the herd since before his first shift at seventeen. Unlike other equine shifters, he'd been born to his mother while she was in human form—a human baby—and had endured his long childhood waiting for his first shift to join his grandmother’s herd. As time wore on, and he'd shown no sign of the ability, everyone assumed it would never happen. He'd tried so hard to make it happen, when it finally did... Well, he'd nearly killed himself shifting over and over in an attempt to "get it right."

  He never could.

  The herd hadn't exactly shunned him—they didn't dare when his grandmother was the Lead Mare. But the indulgence they'd once shown the poor human boy, like bareback rides across the plateau, had quickly turned to disdain and dismissal. The entire reason he'd gone to vet school was to give himself worth to the herd. But even that hadn’t increased his rank. Being a vet was a human thing.

  He licked his lips, regarding Lori warily. "How do you propose to make the herd take me in when I can’t even run with them?”

  She lowered her chin to stare him down. "What I say, goes. You know that. Once we own the ranch, you'll be free to roam like never before. And if you don't do it, I can find someone who will."

  His heart palpitated in an uncomfortable rhythm. He'd never considered himself marriageable. But to belong to a herd, he'd do almost anything. And either way, Toliman's granddaughter was a tempting treat. "If I pull this off, and she becomes my little ranch wife, how're you going to hide our secret then?"

  Lori's grin was feral as she retreated into the barn. "Believe me, she won't stick around."

  Black was suddenly sick to his stomach as he considered what Lori might mean.

  Renee stared at the huge barn door and swallowed. Steph was in the house, tied to a wall phone so she could talk to her agent. Cell service apparently didn’t reach the ranch. But this gave Renee an opportunity to find that cowboy without Steph's watchful judgment or a teasing recap of her clumsy flirting later.

  Why does it have to be so damn hot? She held her arms away from her body, hoping for a cooling breeze. Despite a reapplication of antiperspirant, her underarms were already stained with sweat.

  Taking a deep breath, she ventured into the barn, hoping she'd find him there. She peered down the length of stalls, refamiliarizing herself with a layout she faintly remembered from childhood. The stalls to the right were simple, chain-link cubicles, while the ones to the left were enclosed in solid wood. The empty barn echoed, the sweet scent of warm hay and dust permeating the air. A bare-bones wooden stairway climbed into the hay loft, while several bales of straw formed a more solid looking stairway of their own at the other end of the building.

  What if he's not here? Or worse, what if he's already involved with that Lori chick? She clutched what little confidence she had left tightly within her and ventured into the barn's cool, dim interior. "Hello?"

  The man in the cowboy hat appeared from behind the straw stairway, now wearing a dark, form-fitting tee shirt. What a shame. At least his shoulders and biceps stretched the fabric in all the right places. An arrow of sweat darkened the shirt’s neckline, pointing down between his sculpted pecs.

  He strolled toward her, well-worn cowboy boots scuffing against the hay-strewn floor, each step sending quivers through her core. He had a strong jaw dusted with five o'clock shadow, dusky blond hair curled slightly over his ears, strong, straight nose, and sensual lips. Under his mahogany gaze, her pussy felt anxious, hot, and undeniably wet.

  "You must be the new owner." His voice was as low and sexy as she’d imagined.

  If she wanted to beat Steph at dibs, she'd need to play like Steph. Say something sexy. But all she could think of was riding a cowboy. Totally inappropriate. Instead, she smiled and stuck out a hand. "Howdy partner!"

  Howdy partner? Really? That was the best she could come up with? She shook her head and said a small prayer that her blush was invisible in the dim light of the barn. He accepted her handshake, his large, work-calloused grip firm but in no way uncomfortable. In fact, the contact sent a delightful shiver up her arm as she imagined that hand touching other parts of her skin.

  She cleared her throat and tried again. "My name's Renee. What's yours?"

  A tiny smile twitched at one corner of his mouth, and she was drawn into his warm brown gaze. "Black."

  "Black? That's your first name?"

  "Yep." His gaze flicked down to their still-clasped hands.

  She scrambled for a Steph-like quip to keep the ball rolling. "Let me guess. Black Beauty?” Oh, God, what was she doing? A little girl’s book? Come on, Renee. “No, too girly. Black Jack? No, that's a pirate.” Bad to worse… “Oh, wait, Black Stallion!" Her blush built to an almost intolerable heat, and she was dying to cover her face with both hands. Then she realized she was still clutching his hand. She jerked free, trying to stand tall when all she wanted to do was cringe.

  The twitch at the corner of his mouth rose to a full smile. "Close. Black Stevens."

  Before he could say more, Lori emerged from one of the wood stalls behind him. The tall woman clapped a hand to his shoulder, but not with what Renee would call affection. More like possessiveness. "I see you've met our ranch-hand. Black here's been assigned to show you around."

  Rats. He was taken. It figured that the one time Renee'd claimed dibs on a hot guy, she'd choose one who was already hitched.

  Shrugging off Lori's grip, Black scowled and turned to look at her. "You and I need to talk about that."

  "You can always go back to muckin
g out stalls." Lori's smile was tight.

  Renee held both palms out. There was some serious tension going on, and she did not want to get in the middle of it. "Hey, I don't want to interrupt a lover's quarrel. I can come back later."

  Black let out a rough laugh. "Lori and I are not, and never will be, lovers."

  The tall woman's haughty expression confirmed his words. Whatever was going on between these two had nothing to do with sex. Unsure what to make of things, Renee looked around to find a new subject. "I don't suppose Cookies is still here? Grandfather used to keep a pony for me."

  Lori laughed. "No Cookies for you, my dear." She shot a strange glance toward Black. "I’ll arrange to saddle our stallion, Saul for you."

  Black seemed to stiffen. "Saddle Saul? What's Saul think of that?"

  With a disdainful look, Lori moved past him toward Renee. "He's eager to please."

  Black turned as she walked by. Cleared his throat. Shifted to address Renee. "A stallion might be a bit much for you."

  "Nonsense." Lori flicked a hand dismissively, sending lazy dust motes into a swirling frenzy. "She's Toliman's granddaughter. I mean, look at her. She's got the curve-less physique of a jockey. Plus, I hear she and her friend are thrill-seekers. Saul's going to love her."

  Tension permeated the barn, loaded with a subtext Renee couldn't fathom. Steph loved the hype of thrill-seeking for her paparazzi, but in truth, the things Steph did scared the bejesus out of Renee. Riding a stallion sounded like it might be right up there with swimming in a shark cage. Besides, Grandfather had died riding a horse, and she was nowhere near as skilled as he'd been. "Er, I haven't been on a horse since I was eight."

  Black grabbed Renee's arm and turned her firmly toward one of the stalls open to the pasture. "Why don't I show you around before you decide anything? Let's save the riding for later, when it's not so hot." He shot a look over his shoulder but didn't slow down. "We have a new foal. She was just born a few days ago."

  "Sounds good," Renee said breathlessly, dodging a drying pile of manure.

  "Let me know how you enjoy riding!" Lori's voice floated after them, followed by a laugh.

  Now that they were away from Lori, Renee tilted her head to check out Black’s jeans-covered ass. Not too baggy, not too full. Nice. She trailed her gaze up his broad back to the sexy muss of hair peeking from beneath his cowboy hat. Were all cowboy hats called Stetsons, or was that a specific brand?

  A loose rock twisted under her foot, causing her to lurch forward. He spun and caught her by both arms before she fell. Ohh, quick and strong. She smiled coyly up into his face, pleased at the startled blink he gave her before he looked away. See, this Steph thing's not so hard. Well, as long as no talking was required…

  "Careful," he said. "These rocks seem to appear out of nowhere." He turned and continued walking, no longer holding Renee's arm. Shucks. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lingering scent of him. Sweet hay and leather and sexy, sexy man.

  Opening her eyes again, she was abashed to see him looking at her from a few steps away, near the mare. A smirk tweaked his sensual lips. "This is Millie."

  The mare cocked her ears toward Renee curiously.

  Cheeks burning, Renee straightened her spine and held out a hand to the horse as if to shake. "Good to meet you, Millie. I'm Renee." There, that was cute, right? The beast bobbed her head as if in greeting, and Renee giggled and curtsied back, pleased by Black’s approving smile. "So polite!"

  "Millie, Renee's the new owner of the ranch, and she'd like to meet Ivy-Jane if you don't mind."

  The tiny foal peeked out from behind its mom's hindquarters, nose too big for her body and dainty feet ringed with stripes. Renee let out a gust of air. "Oh, my, God, she's adorable."

  The foal startled back into hiding. Momma horse flicked her tail and turned around to continue grazing, as if shrugging in acquiescence.

  Black crouched and leaned forward, offering one hand toward where the foal had disappeared. "It's okay, Ivy-Jane. Come meet the human."

  Renee admired his wide chest as he stretched his arm. "I like how you talk to them."

  He rose without looking at her. "It's about respect, that's all. Isn't it, Millie?" He scratched the mare's neck where her dark mane emerged. "And with the little ones, you need to allow them to come to you. They can sense who to trust."

  The foal peeked at them again, this time from around the mare's front end, dark ears back. Renee averted her eyes, keeping focus on Black. Not difficult to do. The muscles in his forearm rippled as he scratched the mare, and the tiny gold hairs on his skin caught the sun. Remembering how he'd stretched a teasing hand out to the foal while he was working on the sprinkler box, Renee held her palm up and wiggled her fingers at the foal.

  To her delight, the little creature approached to sniff, velvet muzzle brushing the backs of Renee's fingers.

  "Seems you pass muster." Black watched with a hooded gaze and easy smile. Damn, he had a sexy smile.

  "How old are they when you start breaking them?"

  Millie nickered and swished her tail, sending the little foal skittering away before turning and plodding slowly after. Renee let her arm drop in disappointment.

  "We don't break horses here." Black's voice held a low growl of irritation. The hooded smile had transformed to stone. "Besides, Millie's... from the wild herd."

  "Sorry. I meant tame." Renee raised her brows, but his face didn't soften. "Work with? I don't know horse lingo. Besides, I thought wild horses would run away. Why's she in your pasture?"

  Black removed his hat and ran a hand over his dusty blond curls. "Old Man Toliman—your grandfather—always helped horses. Didn't matter if they were his, the neighbors', or from the wild herd. He offered protection for new foals. Provided forage during hard winters. Medical help when needed.” He shrugged. “We try to honor his methods."

  More of that wistful sensation that had captured her on the drive here, that sense of something lost, took hold of her. She had a vivid image of her grandfather's broad smile whenever he took her out to the barn or pasture. "He used to pull me around in a little wagon to see all the horses. He'd say we were going visiting," she said, tears filming her eyes. Why had she never come back here to visit? Just because Dad was worried about voodoo or some such? "Grandfather loved horses."

  A breeze passed between her and Black like a ghost, and she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. She tried to laugh. "Sorry."

  Black's rich mahogany gaze sought hers. The stony face he'd worn earlier had softened yet remained serious, like he was expecting something of her. "Maybe you can love horses, too."

  She laughed again, heart pounding like a flighty bird in her chest. Mr. Intense was one compelling fellow. She shifted her gaze back toward the barn. If anyone could make her love horses again, it would be Black Stevens.

  "Maybe you can take me riding and show me how?" She tilted her head and shot him that same shy, coy look she had when she'd tripped on the rock. Her nethers tingled with the desire to ride, and not necessarily a horse.

  He breathed in deeply, as if absorbing her. "Sure."

  "Oh!" She remembered Grandfather's poem. "And Grandfather's will said something about buried treasure. You heard anything about that?"

  "Uh... nope."

  "Well, you're officially recruited to help look for it." She took his work-calloused hand and pulled him back toward the barn to saddle some horses, her forced boldness making her heart flutter.

  HAPTER THREE

  With utter bemusement, Black allowed the pixie to lead him back to the barn. He was supposed to be seducing her, not the other way around. How the hell was he supposed to think straight when he was continually fighting a hard-on near her? He'd never had this kind of physical reaction around anyone. It was as if his body was hyper aware of her every move. When she'd stumbled on that rock, that look she'd given him, electric and inviting, had just about knocked him flat on his back.

  Just because she's flirting doesn't mean sh
e's looking for anything permanent.

  She was likely after a vacation fling. Which he'd be happy to oblige, except for Lori's scheme. And threats. First of all, it didn't sound like she intended there to be a happily-ever-after marriage, which is why Black had hesitated during Renee's introduction. Then there was the other threat, almost as sour as the first. If you don't do it, I can find someone who will. Someone like Saul, who was more than a stallion—he was Black's Uncle Saul, the leader of the Bachelor herd.

  The idea of Saul mounting Renee—or the other way around, for that matter—made Black's hands curl into fists. Not that Uncle Saul was a bad guy, but the thought of anyone besides himself riding that sweet little filly made him want to punch someone.

  The barn's cool shadow enveloped them and Renee let out an audible breath. She plucked at her tee shirt, exposing a glimpse of her lacy pink bra and sending out wafts of her amazing cherry-blossom scent, like a cool spring breeze on a sweltering summer day. Get it together, Black. You're acting like a yearling around a mare in heat.

  ”Damn, that sun's hot,” Renee said in a breathy voice, sexy as hell. “I don't know how you work in it all day."

  He let his gaze wander from her face to her breasts and lower, then back up to meet her eyes, nostrils twitching with her intoxicating aroma. "What's that perfume you're wearing?"

  She flushed. "Just deodorant."

  He liked the way he could make her blush. She was a good girl trying to be bad, and he had to admit it was appealing as hell. Wanting to see just how pink she could get, he took a deep, purposeful breath. "You smell delicious."

  Her flush deepened and she shifted her gaze away shyly.

  The strength of his cock surged against the hard zipper on his jeans. He stepped forward until he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. He was sure he smelled of horse and sweat, but Renee didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed drawn to it, if her earlier nose-to-the-wind moment was any indication.