Saved by the Billionaire Lion Shifter (Shifter Suspense Book 2), page 20
“Not all promises should be kept.” Lance’s voice was smoothly professional, the same smug asshole persona that had always made Mathis’ hackles rise. “Take this.”
Mathis stared at the slip of paper Lance handed him. An address. Chloe’s address.
His heart stood still. You made a promise, he told himself, helpless in the flood of his lion’s despair.
He’d done his best to work through the pain, these last few weeks. His personal doctor had looked after the physical side of things, putting together a training and diet regimen that would repair the stresses of Harper’s blood fights. Mathis had focused on the regimen like it was a beacon.
And it hadn’t helped. Every cell in his body longed for Chloe, and the stronger he became, the more everything hurt.
“Honestly, you’re both as bad as each other. The trial starts in a week, and at this rate neither of you will have your statements ready.”
Mathis tensed, his body going to high alert. “What do you mean, both of us? Is she all right?”
Lance stared at him, nonplussed. “She’s as safe and healthy as you are,” he said dryly.
A muscle twitched in Mathis’ cheek. He rubbed it, frowning.
True, Lance didn’t have his full statement yet. Mathis knew it was important, and he’d probably said enough that Lance or one of his assistants could piece the full story together, but…
Every time he’d started to talk about Chloe, his mouth had gone dry. He couldn’t put what had happened to her into words. What he felt for her.
“I’m not going to make this decision for you.” Lance’s voice was low, but insistent. He re-settled his glasses on his nose and looked away. “Not least because you’re not actually paying me for any of this.”
Mathis frowned. “Why the hell would I pay you for this? It’s your job.”
“Not the investigation.” Lance picked up his tablet and slid it into its protective shell. “The relationship counseling. You’re worse than Grant was when he met his mate.”
Mathis’ lion rose up protectively. “I never said she was my mate.”
“You think you need to say it?” Lance raised one eyebrow. “Sort yourself out, Delacourt. You’re a lion—stop pussyfooting around.”
He stalked out before Mathis could pull together a reply, leaving him alone in his apartment.
Mathis slammed his fist down on the table. Damn it. This was meant to be a routine catch-up, another attempt to get his statement straight before the trial started. Not an interrogation about his state of mind.
He frowned. Come to think of it, he’d been having plenty of these catch-ups recently. Almost daily. Lance, Grant, Harley and his folks… everyone had some sort of excuse to knock on his door.
Almost as if everyone in the goddamn city was keeping an eye on him.
Well, that was bullshit. He was perfectly capable of looking after himself. He’d managed so far, hadn’t he? He’d spent his entire adult life controlling the restlessness inside him. He could do it again. He’d find a safer way to exhaust his lion, this time. No more lying about himself.
An image flashed through his mind, sharp as a knife. Chloe. Dark hair flopping across her face, hands hiding her cheeky smile. Laughter bubbling out between her fingers.
Chloe the way she’d been when he first saw her, her face glowing with wonder.
He looked at the slip of paper crumpled in his hand. He’d made a promise. A promise to keep her safe… to let her be happy again.
But she hadn’t been happy when he left her. The smiling vision of Chloe in his mind dissolved, replaced by a memory of her the last time Mathis had seen her. She’d been smiling, but the smile hadn’t reached her eyes.
His lion snarled unhappily, and Mathis made up his mind. He had to find her. He had to make this right.
It was a six-hour flight to Chloe’s hometown, but in Harley’s plane, the journey only took four. The cheetah shifter flew like he ran—scary fast.
He’d also been surprisingly easy to convince to give Mathis a ride with no advance warning.
Mathis glanced sideways at his speed-freak friend. “How many of you are in on this?”
“In on what?” Harley’s eyes flickered as he taxied the plane off the runway.
“You know what.” Mathis’ lion growled through his human voice and Harley snorted. “This nursemaid bullshit you’ve all got going on.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just glad you finally got off your ass.” Harley pulled off his headphones and flicked a final switch on the dash. “Speaking of which… no cabin service here, mate. You should just beat rush hour if you hoof it now.”
Mathis leapt to the back of the cabin, then leaned back to punch Harley on the shoulder.
“Hey. Thanks.”
Harley groaned and leaned his head back, eyes closed. “Don’t stay up too late, Romeo.”
Mathis grinned, and went in hunt of his mate.
An hour later, he was staring up at an old brick building. It was three storys of brown brick and rusting iron railings, garbage cans piled up beside the front step and music filtering through poorly fitted windows.
Chloe’s home.
Throat suddenly dry, Mathis stepped up and hit the intercom for Chloe’s apartment. 3B. Static crackled, then someone picked up.
“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!” a female voice shrieked down the intercom and then broke off. “Oh no fuck my drink—”
More static. Mathis frowned and leaned closer to the speaker. “Chloe?”
He could hear someone yelling in the background. Another woman—who wasn’t Chloe. Neither of the voices was hers.
“Shit—give me that—hello?”
Mathis rubbed his forehead. This new woman might not be Chloe, but at least she didn’t sound as totally wasted as the one who’d picked up. “I’m looking for Chloe Kent.”
“Who is this? Fuck off Cindy, I’m on the phone.”
“I’m—”
The line crackled again, a clanking noise suggesting that “Cindy” had taken possession of the intercom phone. “It’s a booooooooy! Oh my god! Are you the stripper?” There was another clank as the phone hit the wall, and he heard Cindy’s drunken whoop in the background: “GRADUATION STRIPPERRRRRR!”
Mathis groaned and covered his face. He had to have the wrong apartment. Walking back to the sidewalk, he pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket and stared up at the building.
No. This was it. 3B.
He might have assumed that Lance had given him the wrong address but, well it was Lance who’d given it to him. If Chloe had moved, Lance’s creepy meerkat spy network would have told him about it before the landlord had even lodged her bond.
“Hey! Hey… guy!” The less-drunk woman called through the intercom. “You’re not Mathis, are you? Oh, shit.”
Mathis was back in front of the intercom in an instant. “I’m Mathis Delacourt.”
“Mathis Delacourt who lives in New York?”
His heart sank. “…Yes?”
“Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” Mathis rested his palm on the wall next to the speaker. “Is Chloe there?”
“No, uh… Mathis… she’s in New York City.” There was a pause, and then a hiss of static that Mathis suspected was the drunker woman hollering ‘Awkwaaaaaard’.
She’s gone to NYC?
“When?” he asked out loud.
“Uh… just this morning… said she was going to go find… well…”
“Me.” Mathis’ heard thudded in his chest. She went to find me.
“Yyyyep.” Chloe’s roommate paused. “So, uh, you don’t have her phone number, right?”
Five minutes later, Mathis had Chloe’s number. Drunken shrieks still echoing in his ears, he made it to the airport to see Harley’s Avanti still loitering off the runway.
He smacked the side of the plane, calling out telepathically. *Hope you refueled, Roadrunner.*
*You know me, Simba. Never sleep on an empty tank.*
Harley was still stretching when Mathis swung himself into the copilot seat. “Let’s move.”
The cheetah shifter shot a sly smile his way. “She throw you out already?”
Mathis grumbled under his breath, and then explained what had happened. Harley whooped with laughter. “So you—oh, hell, Mathis. Tell me you’ve actually called her.”
His phone was burning a hole in his pocket. “I called the building manager. If she shows up at my apartment, he’ll let her in.”
“Jesus, Simba…”
Harley held up one hand as the radio crackled. He followed the flight controller’s guidance out onto the runway, treating Mathis to his best selection of exasperated, mocking and condescending facial expressions.
They were in the air by the time he deigned to finish his sentence.
“…You idiot.”
Mathis sighed. “Not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
He pulled out the phone. Calling the building manager had been easy enough, but Chloe?
He wasn’t sure he dared.
His chest went tight. What if she hadn’t flown out to see him? Her friends had seemed convinced, but they’d also seemed, well, really drunk. How would she have even gotten his address?
She’s your mate. And she’s the best in the world at poking her nose into other people’s business. She would have found a way.
He shook his head, but he couldn’t ignore his lion’s certainty. His beast was sure he would find his mate waiting for him back in his own territory.
But the human Mathis could barely dare to hope.
It was full night by the time they landed on the private airfield where Harley kept all his toys. Mathis waved off Harley’s offer of a ride to his apartment building.
“Thanks, but I want to actually make it back home tonight, not end up wrapped around a power pole.”
“You were happy enough having me fly you cross country,” Harley sniffed, his cat offended.
“Sure,” replied Mathis easily. “There aren’t any power poles in the sky.”
Now, standing in front of his own front door, he was all out of jokes. He licked his lips. On the other side of this door…
He closed his eyes. He’d snuck in the back way, avoiding the building staff. He didn’t want anyone else to see the disappointment in his eyes when they told him no house guests had arrived.
But if she was there…
Mathis’ lion growled low in his throat. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t just stand here all night. He had to find out, one way or the other.
And if she wasn’t there—he would cope. He’d have to.
Alone, in his apartment, as another black night faded into gray dawn. The same way he’d spent every night since they were evacuated from the island.
He braced himself, and pushed open the door.
The lights were on. Low, but on—and he knew he’d left them off. The apartment was quiet, but—
He sniffed the air, and his lion purred. She was here. Not just in his territory, she was in his den. His sanctuary.
And she’d made dinner.
Mathis’ nose took him through to the kitchen, where the remains of a meal for one were stacked neatly in the dishwasher. Tenderness pricking at his heart, he checked the fridge, and found a second plate waiting for him. She must have poked through his fridge and all of his cupboards to find everything, and cooked dinner while she was waiting for him. Cooked dinner for him. The thought of anyone invading his privacy in this way would normally have made Mathis bristle, but the thought of Chloe doing it made his whole body warm up.
He prowled further. She’d left a dent in the largest of the sofas in his living room. He could imagine her stretching out, relaxing. Waiting for him.
And what had she done when he hadn’t turned up?
Mathis’ heart thudded in his ears. If she’d left…
He fell into a half-crouch, sniffing the air. Chloe’s scent was warm. Close.
Mathis crept through his apartment, feeling strangely like an interloper in his own property. Chloe’s scent was everywhere. After so long apart from her, even the hint of her presence made him drunk with pleasure.
He made his way through the apartment until there was only one room left. He paused with his hand on the door and his heart in his throat.
His bedroom. He hardly dared to hope…
He pushed gently on the door and it swung open with barely a whisper. His bedroom lay beyond, every inch of it familiar. The pale carpet and thick rugs. Huge windows, with heavy curtains now drawn against the night.
And his bed. He’d left it unmade, blankets piled in the middle of the supersized mattress. They were still crumpled and tangled, but now they were wrapped around the most precious treasure Mathis’ home had even held.
His mate.
All the breath left his body in one sigh of pure relief. He was home.
And so was Chloe.
She was lying on her back, her head tilted to one side and one hand pushed up against her cheek. Her hair was a dark halo on the pillow, one sooty strand falling over her forehead.
Mathis’ heart filled his chest. She’d never slept on her back on the island. She’d slept curled up on her side, defensive even in sleep. But no more. Here, in his den, she felt safe.
Chloe’s breathing changed. Mathis sensed the moment she woke up—and the moment she realized he was watching her.
She grimaced, but not fast enough to hide the smile that tugged at her lips.
“God damn it,” she muttered, still pretending to be annoyed. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
No hellos. No need to explain what she was doing here. A tight knot inside Mathis’ chest, one that had been there so long he had forgotten it existed, suddenly unwound.
He padded further into the room, stalking towards Chloe.
“You can’t believe you fell asleep? What are you doing in bed then?”
Chloe pushed herself up on the pillows, her sleepy eyes sparkling wickedly. “Waiting for you. What time do you call this?”
Mathis glanced at his watch. “I call it ten hours since I boarded a plane to surprise you at your apartment.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open, but her eyes were shining. “No!”
“I’m afraid so.” Mathis prowled closer. He wasn’t in a hurry; he wanted to savor every moment of this. His mate, waiting for him in his bed.
Chloe hid behind a blanket. When she poked back up, she’d almost succeeded in hiding her laughter, but her eyes still sparkled. “Well, I took the bus, so if anyone’s going to complain about being stood up, it’s me.”
Her lips quirked as Mathis closed the distance between them. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his movements fluid and feline. Chloe’s eyes flicked over his body. She didn’t move, or say anything—but her eyes went black with desire.
Mathis’ lion purred.
“Stood up? I didn’t realize I was meant to be sitting around waiting for you.” He leaned forward until Chloe’s soft lips were only a few tantalizing inches from his.
Chloe snorted. “From what I’ve been hearing, I expected to find you almost comatose with despair,” she said with a wicked smile. “Though I was going to have to play Prince Charming to your Sleeping Beauty. And here I got all ready to kiss you better for nothing.”
“Who told you what?” Mathis frowned.
“Oh… no one,” Chloe teased, slipping down the bed until she was lying between Mathis’ arms. She reached up and touched his cheek, and her expression changed. “Shit. Sorry. I had this whole speech prepared, but I just… you look so much better. I’m so glad you look better.”
Mathis’ heart twisted as Chloe pressed her palm against his face, covering the place that had been all scabbed, raw skin the last time she had seen him.
“Looks can be deceiving,” he muttered. He brushed the pad of his thumb under one of Chloe’s eyes, which were suddenly shiny with tears.
She sniffed and blinked, and Mathis dipped his head, nuzzling into her neck as she fought back tears. “Don’t cry,” he murmured into the soft skin under her ear, and heard her breath hitch.
“I’m not crying,” she grumbled. Mathis heard her sniff, and then: “We’ve both been really stupid about this, haven’t we?”
“I’m the one who was stupid,” Mathis protested. He lowered himself onto Chloe, rolling so he could pull her protectively to his chest. She tugged at the neck of his t-shirt, pressing her face against his bared chest. “I thought I was being strong, but I was hurting us both.”
Chloe sniffed, and it turned into a giggle. “Damn it. I thought I was being the strong one, following the stupid plan and not checking in with you. If Lance hadn’t said anything, I’d still be sitting in my bath eating ice-cream and crying every night.”
Mathis’ fingers had been creeping up under Chloe’s shirt. He stopped, frowning. “Wait—Lance? And I hope you’re joking about the crying.”
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing someone from his company about my statement and—well, one of the things that was going to be in my big speech to you, actually—and he kept popping into our meetings and glaring and making pointed remarks about me getting closure with any of the other people who’d been on the island, and…” She squirmed closer to him. “I wasn’t lying about crying in the bathtub. Well, not about the ice-cream, at least. I must have put on half a ton.”
“Is that an invitation?” Mathis nibble on the tip of Chloe’s ear, and felt her shiver against him.
“God, let me check. I just spent a week torturing myself over the thought that you never liked me, or that I’d massively fucked everything up somehow, and—” She made a noise halfway between a sob and a growl of frustration that made every one of Mathis’ protective instincts flare. “—So, yes, please take my shirt off, yes.”
Mathis tipped her head back and kissed her, savoring the feminine softness of her lips. “Your wish is my command,” he murmured, and moved down the bed.
Chloe was wearing a soft knit long-sleeve shirt. If she had been standing up, it would have hung loosely from her generous frame; but since she was lying down, it was twisted interestingly around her gorgeous curves. Mathis took a moment to admire the sight before slipping his fingers under the bottom hem.
