When An Alpha Purrs
by Eve Langlais
Series: A Lion’s Pride, #1
Pub. Date: June 4, 2015
Genre: Paranormal Romance / Shapeshifter
Happy reading!
Eve Langlais
A lion’s pride isn’t
defined only by those he commands but also resides with his hair, so when a
human dares to butcher Arik’s mane, he gets his revenge—and claims her as his
mate.
A billionaire CEO
and leader of the largest East Coast pride, Arik is a ladies man and a lion.
Used to commanding others, and obedience, he can’t believe it when a hairdresser
with tempting curves chops off a hunk of his precious mane.
But her biggest
mistake is in running from him.
Run as fast as you can, little mouse, because
this cat loves to chase—and pounce.
Oh, and he also
likes to nibble on tender bits. What he doesn’t expect is to fall for a human
woman, a woman who can make the impossible happen because everyone knows lions
can’t purr…until now.
Author Bio:
~ New York Times and USA Today Bestseller
Hello, my name is Eve and I am a Canadian author who loves to write hot
romance, usually with shifters, cyborgs or aliens lol.
Be warned, I do have a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor
something I like to let loose in my writing. I like strong alpha males, naked
chests and shifters. Lots of shifters. In fact, you'll notice most of my multi
partner stories revolve around great, big, overprotective shifters who just
want to please their woman. I am also extremely partial to aliens, you know the
kind who like to abduct humans and then drive them insane...with pleasure of
course.
I love to write, and while I don't always know what my mind is going to come up
with next, I can promise it will be fun, probably humorous and most of all
romantic, because I love a happily ever after.
Thanks so much for coming by and checking me out. If you'd like to know more,
read some excerpts or find out what's coming next, then please visit me at
http://www.EveLanglais.com
Or sign up for my new release email list at
http://www.evelanglais.com/newrelease
Happy reading!
Eve Langlais
Chapter One
“What do you mean Dominic isn’t here?” Arik didn’t quite
raise his voice, and yet everyone in the barbershop heard him and noted his
displeasure. Heads ducked, hands busied themselves snipping and styling, and no
one dared meet his gaze.
If they were lion shifters, he would have said it was
because they recognized his alpha status—say hello to the king of the concrete
jungle. But these were only regular humans, people easily cowed by a man in an
expensive suit with a commanding attitude.
Except for one.
“Granddad is out west.”
The woman’s reply had him spinning, and he inhaled sharply,
which drew in more than just the scent of the barbershop. It drew in her
tempting aroma—and stirred a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Smells delicious. For
a human.
Standing at just over five and a half feet, the woman barely
reached his chin. She didn’t let her shortness deter her. Her head tilted. The
chin raised, almost defiantly, as she met his stare. Brown eyes framed in dark
lashes didn’t turn from his amber-hued ones.
Someone’s got spirit. But
he didn’t have time to explore how far her attitude and bravery went. There
were more important matters clamoring for his attention.Such as his poor,
shaggy mane.
“What do you mean he’s out west? I have an appointment.”
People didn’t cancel his appointments. Nor did they make him wait. The perks of
being top of the heap.
“My Aunt Cecily had her baby early. He took some time off to
go meet his new grandson.”
A decent excuse, but still… “But what about my hair?” That
might have emerged more plaintively than he’d like. However, who could blame
him? They were talking about his precious luxurious mane that required a
regular trim lest the ends grow ragged, or, worse, a split end dared to make an
appearance.
Vanity, one of his faults, along with arrogance and an
unwillingness to budge.
“No need to worry, big guy. I’m taking over Granddad’s
appointments while he’s gone.”
“You?” A girl, cut his hair? He couldn’t help but laugh, the
idea too ridiculous to contemplate.
“I’m sorry. I fail to see the entertainment.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to trust my mane to a woman?”
Sexism, alive and well in Arik’s world, the fault of the females in his pride
who’d raised him. No coddling for Arik. They didn’t believe in letting him play
with dolls or caving to others. His mother and aunts, not to mention his
numerous female cousins, had taught him to be tough. They didn’t allow softness
in his world, not when they groomed him as the future leader of their pride.
He was all male, all the time, and dammit, a man used a
barber, not a hairdresser. Even if she was cute.
“Suit yourself. I’ve got more than enough men to take care
of—”
Was that his cat growling?
“—without adding a pompous one to the list.”
“Pompous?” Even if she’d pegged him right, it didn’t stop
his indignant glare.
A glare she chose to ignore. She crossed her arms over her
chest, plumping her cleavage—ooh, pretty, shadowy cleft. His curious nature
drew his eyes to the mysterious and beckoningvee until she cleared her throat.
“My eyes are up here, big guy.”
Caught. Good thing he was a cat. His kind had no shame, nor
did they apologize. He shot her his most engaging, boyish grin. “My name is
Arik. Arik Castiglione.”
She didn’t react to his smile or titles, so he elaborated,
“The CEO for Castiglione Enterprises.” He stretched his lips wide enough to
engage his deadly dimple.
And still failed to impress.
She raised a brow. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
Surely she jested. Within his mind, his poor lion lay down
in a traumatized heap and crossed its paws over its eyes.
“We are the largest importer of meat in the world.”
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I don’t check the label to
see who brings me my steak. I just eat it.”
“What about our chain of restaurants? A Lion’s Pride
Steakhouses.”
“Those I’ve heard of. Decent, I hear, but overpriced. I can
get a bigger plate of food at LongHorn. And according to my girlfriends, the male
waiters are cuter too.”
For once, Arik found himself at a loss for words. His lion
on the other hand? His mane was definitely ruffled—and itching.
Arik had already gone two weeks longer than usual for this
haircut because of an overseas business trip. Time to get back to his highest
priority. “How long until Dominic is back?”
“A week, maybe two. I told him to take his time. Granddad
doesn’t often take time off, and he’s getting up there in years.”
A few weeks? He’d look like a wildebeest if he waited that
long. “That’s no good. I need a cut. Are there any male barbers available?”
“Afraid to let a girl
touch your precious hair?” She smirked. “I can peek at the schedule and see if
we can squeeze you in this afternoon.”
“I don’t have time to come back. I need it done now.”
Usually when he used the word now, people jumped to do his
bidding. She, on the other hand, shook her head.
“Not happening, unless you’ve changed your mind and are
willing to let me cut it.”
“You’re a hairdresser.”
“Exactly.”
“I want a barber.”
“Same thing.”
Said the girl without a Y chromosome. “I think I’ll wait.”
Arik turned away from her, only to freeze as she muttered,
“Pussy.”
If she only knew how right she was. But, of course, she
didn’t mean the feline version.
Pride made him pivot back.“You know what. On second thought,
you may cut my hair.”
“How gracious of you, Your Majesty.” She sketched him a mock
bow.
Not funny, even if accurate. He glared in reply.
“I see someone’s too uptight for a sense of humor.”
“I greatly enjoy comedy, when I hear it.”
“Sorry if my brand of sarcasm is too simple for you to
understand, big guy. Now, if you’re done, sit down so we can get this over with
and send you and your precious hair back to your office.”
A woman giving him orders? Not uncommon when a male lived
surrounded by them. But actually obeying, that was new – and in this case,
unavoidable.
Head held regally high, Arik took the proffered seat,
putting his back to the female, but he could still watch her in the mirror and
track her by scent. Coconut lotion, fabric softener, and musky woman. All
woman.
My woman. Want to
taste.
His lion grumbled in hunger. Odd because Arik had eaten a
hearty breakfast, even wrestling his beta, Hayder, for the last two pieces of
bacon.
The hairdresser swirled a fabric cape around his upper body,
swathing him in protection against snipped tickly bits. So far the same as
usual, except Dominic’s mere presence never had Arik’s body so aware. The light
touch of her fingers at his nape as she fastened the Velcro closure caused all
the hairs on his body to stiffen. And they weren’t the only thing standing at
attention.
Before he could wonder at his reaction, she withdrew her
hand and busied herself with her tray of instruments. Razor, scissors, brush,
comb. But forget the manly black colors a barber would use. Her tools were pink
and black, zebra striped.
The indignity of it. He almost said something but held his
tongue, only because he could see her watching and waiting for it in the
mirror. As if he’d give her the satisfaction. This cat held his own tongue—for
now.
The hairdresser sifted her fingers through his long strands,
lifting and studying the various layers Dominic usually cut into it. Unlike
many businessmen, Arik preferred to keep his golden mane somewhat long. Funny
how many of his lovers had told him it gave him a leonine appearance—if only they
knew the truth.
“How much are we taking off?”
As little as possible, given he still didn’t trust her.
“About a half inch or so. Just even up the ends.” That should tide him over
until Dominic returned.
“Are you sure?” She frowned at his crown, as she held long strands
up. “You look like you could use at least two inches off, if not more.”
How did she know? Arik usually kept his mane to a civilized
length that just touched the top of his collar.
“I’m sure.”
“You know, a man your age really should have a more mature
cut. The shaggy surfer style is more suited to young guys.”
He dug his fingers into the armrest and fought not to growl.
“I like my hair like this.”
“Suit yourself. I was just saying you’d look better with a
shorter cut.”
Shave his precious mane? Never! “Do you always argue with
your clients?”
Her eyes met his in the mirror, and he wasn’t surprised to
see a smile lurking at the corners of her lips. “Only when they’re wrong.”
That surprised a bark of laughter from him. Despite his
irritation with the situation, and her outspoken nature, he grudgingly liked
Dominic’s granddaughter. “Very well. You may cut it a little shorter than a
half inch. But not much shorter. I do not want to end up scalped.”
“For a man your age and in your position, you are way too
obsessed with your hair,” she muttered as she bound sections of his mane with
hairclips. Not exactly his most manly look.
Arik kept a close watch for anyone with a camera or cell
phone. Dare to take a pic and he’d probably go furry.
Okay, he wouldn’t go furry in public, but he sure as hell
would extract retribution. CEOs of billion-dollar corporations had an image to
maintain, and pink hair clips holding his hair at crazy angles didn’t exactly
fit it.
“How come I’ve never met you before?” Dominic had paraded a
great number of his children and grandchildren through his barber shop over the
years.
Attention focused on her hands, which wielded a set of
scissors, she answered. “I don’t visit often. I live out in the Midwest with my
mom and dad. I was actually working at a hair salon out there until it shut
down, and Granddad offered me a job here.”
“You just packed up and moved?”
“Why not?” She released a layer of hair, and the scissors
kept snipping. Golden bits flittered to the floor, and Arik tried to not tense.
There was just as much hair strewn as when Dominic cut it. She seemed to know
her business when it came to using scissors, but for some reason, he couldn’t
shake his unease.
“Women should stay close to family.” His female family
members certainly did, despite his best efforts to pawn them off onto other
tribes and cities. Hell, he’d even tried to bribe some of his more rascally
cousins with the promise of condos on other continents. However, the lionesses
in his pride were content. A sign he was a good leader, but annoying as it
meant they were constantly putting their whiskered noses in his business.
And they also loved to play matchmaker.
“When are you going to
give us some cubs?” Not a day went by that he didn’t hear this.
“I’ve got a friend I
want you to meet.” Fun for a night, until the next day when his cousin
hammered him to make some kind of commitment.
The hairdresser reacted to his statement about a woman’s
place with a snort. “Get with the times, big guy. We’re no longer strapped to a
kitchen or forced into arranged marriages. We even get to vote. Girls nowadays
often move away from home and have jobs. Or at least this one does.”
He couldn’t help but wince as she gave a decisive snip to
his mane. So far, everything looked good. Yet he could have sworn ominous music
hummed at the edges of his mind, feeding a certain dread he’d never admit
aloud.
Scared of this woman
and her scissors? Never. And his lion reinforced this with a very masculine
rawr.
Still though, she’d essentially accused him of being a
chauvinist. He explained himself. “I did not mean to sound misogynistic. I
merely stated that women often find comfort in having family around them.”
“I do have family here.”
“Touché.” Then he couldn’t have said what prompted him to
ask, “What of your boyfriend? I’m sure he’s not pleased at your abrupt
departure.”
She paused and stared at him in the mirror. “Is this your
not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m single?”
“Was I being subtle? Let me rephrase then. Do you have a
lover?” He’d challenge him to a duel if she did and—
Hold on a second. He wasn’t challenging anyone, especially
not the human boyfriend of a hairdresser he’d just met.
Just met, and yet wanted.
The realization made him frown. Time to hit the dating
circuit again if a plump and mouthy human girl was capable of making him
irrational. It didn’t help that his lion urged him to rub against her and mark
her with their scent—to keep other males away.
Not happening. Marking any kind of female was bound to
create complications. Arik wasn’t about to settle down or commit himself. He
was in his prime. Playing the field.
Flirting with a hairdresser who set his hairs on end—and
brought his erotic senses alive.
The things I could do
to her. Nibbles on her creamy skin… Nips at that luscious lower lip, which
pulled taut as she frowned at him and said, “First off, I don’t think my love
life is any of your business.” Snip. “Second. Even if I were single, I wouldn’t
date you.” Snip. Snip.
“Why not?” He could have blinked in astonishment when the
query emerged from his mouth. However, a curious kitty needed to know. Women
just didn’t say no. It wasn’t arrogant of him to claim it, not when it was
fact.
Rejection was not something he encountered. Until now.
“Are you seriously having to ask why I won’t date you?” She
sounded so incredulous. “Would you like me to recite the list alphabetically?”
Actually, he did. “Let’s hear it.”
Not even a pause. “Asshat. Braggart. Cocky tied with
chauvinist. Dumbass. Egotistical. Do I really need to go on?”
A chuckle rumbled forth from him—again. What was it about
this woman that delighted him? She kept arguing and defying him at every turn,
and yet he couldn’t help but find her amusing. She utterly intrigued him,
especially as he tried to guess what she’d say next. How refreshing to come
across a female that wasn’t related to him, or impressed by him, who dared to
treat him as a man.
One she considered beneath her standards.
“I think your list needs tweaking.” He launched a defense of
his character.
“Oh really? And just how do you see yourself? I’m sure this
will be good.”
“Let me see. Attractive, bold, courageous, daring, elegant,
ferocious, especially as a lover,” he admitted with a wink. “Gallant.”
With a derisive snort, she interrupted. “Ha. I highly doubt
that.”
“And yet you don’t really know me. My lady friends would
tell you that I am a gentleman.” When it came to opening doors and picking up
the check. Other than that, there was nothing gentle about him. Just ask those
who crossed him.
Kings didn’t let anyone question their authority.
“I wouldn’t know, though, about this supposed gallantry,
because I’m not your lady friend.”
“You could be.” He gave her another chance. She truly did
draw him in with the roundness of her figure, hugged by faded denim and topped
with a baggy sweatshirt that drooped enticingly off a shoulder, baring a black
strap.
Lace or cotton? A feline mind wanted to know.
But apparently he wouldn’t know today, as she, yet again,
managed to resist him.
“Date you? Not likely.”
Again words emerged from him without volition. “Why not?”
“Oh please. I’ve seen enough to know you’re not my type.”
Such a liar. Apparently he wasn’t the only one aroused by
their repartee. The musky scent of her arousal tickled his senses. It made him
bolder. “I guarantee when I’m between your thighs and you’re clawing my back,
you’ll be screaming a different tune.”
So he might have come on a tad strong with that last
statement. That was still no excuse for what happened next.
“Pig.” However it wasn’t the animal insult that was her most
grievous crime. It was the gigantic hunk of hair she snipped off!
An irreplaceable, thick chunk of his hair permanently
removed. Accidental or intentional, it didn’t matter.
Ack! My mane.My
beautiful, precious mane.
He couldn’t help a low rumbling growl. His eyes glinted in
the mirror, the gold catching the light and reflecting it, along with his fury.
“You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That.” And yes, he might have growled
the last bit.
“Oops? Did I do that? Sorry.” Said with no repentance at
all. With a smirk and a blown kiss, she let her crime rain down over him in a
golden, threaded shower.
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