Bitten in the Bayou [Stormy Weather 2]

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  Cobblestone Press

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Selena Blake

  First published in 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Author Bio

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bitten in the Bayou

  Copyright© 2008 Selena Blake

  ISBN: 978-1-60088-280-7

  Cover Artist: Dan Skinner

  Editor: Tracy Seybold

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cobblestone Press, LLC

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Dedication

  To Leila Brown, for stepping into my life at just the right moment, giving me encouragement, pushing me to work harder and think outside the box.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  The sun broke through the dark thundercloud and warmed the damp earth. Jules Deveraux turned to his brother André and frowned. “See anything?"

  André shook his dark head. “Non."

  They'd been in town for supplies, waiting for the latest hurricane to blow to shore when a distressed businessman had stormed in looking for his missing girlfriend. He'd hired André and Jules to find her, to bring her back safely. No one knew the swamp and the forest as well as the Deveraux brothers.

  So here they were. On the chase. Not that Jules minded. He was a wolf in human clothing after all.

  As quick as the sun had come, it went. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind picked up again. The scent of muck and rain swirled around him. He sniffed the air for any scent of the woman.

  "He must love her an awful lot, non? To come here looking for her?"

  "His concern seemed ... genuine,” André said, leaning down to study a patch of earth.

  This would go a lot faster if they were in wolf form, but they couldn't risk being seen. The storm chasers and weather reporters were already setting up shop, waiting for the next big one. Jules had seen enough storms to have a good idea which ones would pass them by. Perhaps it was just a sixth sense.

  "You don't sound as if you believe that, mon frere,” he said as they pushed their way farther into the forest.

  "I don't."

  "Neither do I. He seemed too concerned."

  "Too possessive,” André agreed.

  Jules caught the scent of lilac and inhaled appreciatively. Warm, distinctly floral with a hint of woman. He'd found her.

  "Come on.” He took off jogging.

  Lightning crackled overhead, charging the air with its energy. They had to find her and get the hell outta here, fast. If there was one thing Jules knew, it was that lightning, tall trees and water don't mix. He paused and caught her scent again. He turned right and pushed the low hanging limbs out of the way.

  The boom of thunder told him the storm was getting close. He saw something through the leaves. Something pink. He motioned for his brother to look in that direction. André nodded, his gaze fixed on the spot.

  There she was.

  The scent grew stronger, surrounding them. Swirling on the wind. Intoxicating him. She smelled ... ripe. Delicious. Unexpected ... but familiar.

  Odd. He was sure they'd never met before.

  Together they stepped forward, silently, until they had a better view.

  Angelica Humphrey's picture hadn't done her justice. Her golden hair was captured loosely at her neck. Several tendrils escaped, cascading around her face. She looked through the view finder of a camera, completely oblivious to their presence.

  Didn't she know there were predators about?

  André must have sensed his thoughts. A tight smile curved his lips upward, and they shared a glance.

  Her petal pink t-shirt was peppered with raindrops. It outlined her lush breasts and trim waist. A sage green rain slicker was cinched around her hips and her form-fitting jeans flared at the bottom over a pair of boots that had seen better days. A dingy camera bag sat at her feet.

  Angelica felt a zing along the back of her neck. That same zing had often warned her of danger or where to be to get the best shot possible. It had warned her away from William, thank God. Despite his Golden Child good looks, he was a dark and dangerous man. Possessive and ruthless.

  Slowly she lowered her camera till it dangled from her neck. The snap of a twig made her look right. Two men stepped out of the trees and into the clearing.

  Her first instinct was to run.

  But for some reason she stayed put, looking them over. The one on the left was tall, trim, with unruly black hair. He had sharply chiseled features. Some might even call him beautiful. But his lean frame proclaimed he was all man.

  "Angelica Humphrey?” the other man asked.

  He was only an inch or so shorter and far more rugged. Muscles shimmered beneath his T-shirt. He had the same dark hair, unreadable eyes, and rosy lips.

  A coil of desire tightened low in her belly, surprising her. She hadn't felt honest to goodness desire in a very long time.

  "How do you know my name?” she asked, mentally calculating how fast she could pull the knife from her boot. She never traveled without protection. As a wildlife photographer she sometimes came across beasts that needed taming.

  "William Bardsley asked us to find you. I'm André Deveraux, and des is my brother Jules.” His accent was delicious and wicked. His brother gave her a friendly smile, one that was supposed to put her at ease, no doubt. But it just made all her muscles tighten.

  William had sent them?

  They didn't look like William's thugs. She'd never warmed to any of his friends or ... associates.

  "You don't look like you need finding,” the taller one, Jules, murmured. A dark eyebrow inched up slightly as he took in her raincoat and boots.

  "Why don't you run along and tell William that I meant it when I said it was over."

  The two men shared a glance. Jules put his hand on his hips. The rain picked up again, and she quickly shrugged into her coat.

  "He's not your boyfriend?” Jules asked. An unreadable expression crossed his face.

  Angelica couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from her lips. “Hardly. We were dating. I said it was over. William's the type that always gets what he wants. No matter the cost to anyone else."

  She bent to put her camera in her bag, making sure to keep an eye on them. Overhead, the wind howled through the trees and they birds she'd been photographing took flight. “Better yet, don't tell him you found me at all."

  Slowly she backed away from them.

  "If he's not your boyfriend, why did he come all this way to find you?"

  That had her stopping in her tracks. A trickle of fear tiptoed up
her spine.

  "He came here?"

  André nodded.

  "We met him in town. What in the world are you doin’ out here anyway? Don't you know there's a hurricane a comin?” Jules asked.

  Angelica nodded. She did indeed know there was a hurricane coming. “That's why I'm here. I'm a wildlife photographer."

  "A wildlife photographer?” André asked, as if he'd never heard of the concept before. He stepped closer, and Angelica's heartbeat picked up speed. Didn't they care that they were getting soaked? Their T-shirts seemed to be melting against their tanned skin. Another clap of thunder shook the ground, jolting her nerves.

  Jules spoke quietly to André in what sounded like French. His voice was rich like Swiss chocolate. André nodded, and they both settled their gazes upon her. Tingles erupted over her skin, her breasts tightened and the trickle of desire exploded into full blown need.

  "I, ugh, I've gotta go. Nice meeting you.” She turned like a scared deer and ran.

  She'd gotten all of three feet before a strong hand clamped down on her wrist and spun her around. A scream froze in throat when she found herself pinned to Jules’ tall frame.

  "Not that way. Wanna get eaten by a gator?"

  Again that dark eyebrow mocked her. But she couldn't find the energy to care. She was too aware of the flat planes of his stomach, his rock hard thigh between hers, the corded muscles beneath her fingertips. Her breath stalled in her lungs as she looked way up, her gaze meeting his.

  He'd asked her a question. Silently, she shook her head. No, she didn't want to get eaten by an alligator. But she wondered what it would be like to be gobbled up by a sexy Cajun.

  She stomped down on that thought. If William had come after her, he was more serious than she'd originally thought. She needed to disappear for a while. Good thing she'd brought her passport.

  "What do they call this color, André?” Jules’ unexpected question confused her. His eyes flicked over the top of her head.

  "Strawberry blonde?” the other man replied. He sounded like he was right behind her. She turned her head and saw him out of the corner of her eye. Only a foot or so separated her back from his front. She'd be lying if she said the men's nearness didn't affect her. Excite her just a little.

  She'd traveled the world, and though she'd always had her lens zoomed in on animals, she'd kept an eye out for Mr. Right. Or Mr. Hot-n-Sexy. She'd never come across a man so worthy of being photographed. A man so gorgeous he could steal her breath. One who had an animal magnetism that was usually reserved for movie stars.

  Until now.

  And there were two of them, she thought, feeling rather dreamy despite the fact that she was sinking into the mud.

  "Right,” Jules murmured, drawing her attention back to him. “Strawberry blonde. I love strawberries, don't you André?"

  His tone was so seductive, so husky, Angelica's insides melted. Her hardened nipples brushed against his chest, and she knew she should back away from him. Get as far away from these men as she could.

  "Mmm, hmm."

  "So juicy. And sweet,” Jules whispered in her ear. A little thrill raced through her as his breath warm caressed her wet skin. When he straightened and actually licked his lips, she was sure he was going to kiss her.

  Angelica found strength she didn't know she had and took a step back. Self-preservation. She had to get out of this swamp. Away from William. No matter how seductive these men were.

  Her back hit something strong and solid. Not a tree. André.

  Large hands clamped over her hips, and a squeak of alarm escaped her lips.

  "What's wrong, chérie?” Jules stepped toward her, his hands capturing hers. He breathed on them, letting his hot breath chase away the chill.

  "No—nothing.” She shook her head. When he looked up at her through those long, black eyelashes, Angelica realized she was a goner. They'd completely and utterly seduced her with their heated looks, sexy accent, and tender touch. “Is William still in town?” she found herself asking.

  Jules tensed for just a second before he shrugged those strong shoulders. “Dunno."

  "Does it matter?” André asked.

  "He's a dangerous man.” Her voice shook more than she wanted.

  Jules’ jaw worked back and forth, and his hazel eyes darkened to match the stormy sky. “Don't worry, chérie. We'll protect you."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  "Let's start by getting her out of this storm,” André said.

  Jules nodded his agreement and laced his fingers through Angelica's. He could smell her desire, hear her quickened heartbeat, her shallow breathing.

  Turning, he started back toward their cabin. He was glad she'd put her raincoat back on. The rain had soaked their clothes. Water ran off his chin, dribbled from his fingertips. He could tell she was getting chilled.

  Jules lengthened his stride. They wove their way through the forest, around the swamp. The rain coming through the trees sounded like a wild orchestra. The frogs lent their throaty vocals, and in the distance a bird added her own song. Through the leaves, the wind whistled. Such an incredible song.

  Such a crazy woman to be out in the middle of it.

  He looked back and saw that she was watching him. He couldn't help but smile. At first he hadn't been sure if she'd actually needed rescuing or not. There was an air of confidence about her. Like she could handle herself.

  And yet she'd seemed almost vulnerable when they'd told her that her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had come looking for her. She'd denied their relationship was that serious. Her eyes flamed with green fire.

  Obviously she didn't like this William guy all that much. If he was as dangerous as she seemed to think he was, she certainly didn't want to be anywhere he could find her.

  "About another half mile,” he told her over his shoulder. “You all right?"

  No sooner had she nodded then she tripped over a fallen limb. André caught her around the waist and sat her back on her feet.

  "Well, I was until you asked,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  He liked the sound of her laugh. And he liked that she wasn't a damsel in distress, he thought, pushing his way through the thick underbrush. Green and yellow leaves sliced at his skin, but he barely noticed.

  The wind blew at their backs, as if it was pushing them to the cabin. He led her across a well-worn, cedar footbridge. In the distance he heard the lower growl of Gin, their guard dog. Ever since Sebastian and Amanda had gotten back together, Jules and André had been camping out down here at the cabin. They were happy to give their brother his privacy with his new wife. With their Luna.

  The cabin came into view. Gin waited on the porch, his bushy tail wagging slowly like a willow in the breeze. “We're here."

  "Where is here?” Angelica had pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head to ward off some of the rain.

  "What would you call this, André? Our summer home?"

  "I just call it the cabin,” André replied and made his way up the stairs. He spoke quietly to the dog and patted his head.

  Jules tried to see the place through Angelica's eyes. Years ago they'd had a small fishing cabin on the water. It was rustic, but tight for four werewolves. Then Burke's brother, Laurent, had moved over from France and things got even more cramped. Later Sebastian had built this one and one closer to the road. They both afforded more privacy, which was something the Deveraux men needed. What with turning into wolves occasionally and being wealthy bachelors.

  The cabin was multiple levels, made to withstand the weather and everything Mother Nature had to throw at them. The wood was varnished a rich honey gold. At the far end of the wide front porch a soft fabric hammock rocked and rippled in the wind.

  Jules stepped onto the boardwalk and tugged Angelica up the stairs.

  "Let's get you dried off, chérie. That hurricane'll be here soon. You can wait here with us until it's over."

  She chewed her bottom lip for a moment,
but once she was out of the weather she seemed to brighten a bit. She held tight to his hand. He rather enjoyed it.

  Inside André and Jules took off their wet boots and left them by the door. Angelica surveyed the large open living room. She studied the art and photographs, then the books as she shrugged out of her raincoat.

  "Here. Allow me.” André took her coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door. “Don't be alarmed, coeur, I'm gonna put da storm shutters down."

  Angelica watched in rapt fascination as André pressed a series of buttons that put the electronic shutters down. What was that line from that movie? No expense spared. When the windows were dark and protected from the storm, soft overhead lights popped on. Who were these guys?

  "If you'd like to get out of those wet things and take a warm shower, now would be the time. Power will be out soon. And we won't start the generator until after the storm, chérie."

  She turned to him and then looked down at her wet clothes.

  "Somehow I don't think you guys are your every day swamp rats,” she said with a smile. Unless one of them was the king.

  Jules laughed. “Non. Nothing that verminous."

  "Who are you, really?"

  "Does it matter, chérie?” He stepped forward, wanting to sweep her into his arms and then settle her onto his lap. He had the strongest urge to keep her there

  "I like to know who I'm ... involved with. No, that didn't come out right. The company I keep. William seemed like a good guy at first. But then he became possessive. We were only dating. And not even exclusively."

  "But he wanted you all for himself?” Jules supplied.

  "Yes."

  He gave her a long once over from the tips of her white socks to the wisps of blonde hair framing her face. She didn't meet his gaze, looking at the floor instead. Her hands were tucked into her back pockets. The position was casual enough, but he could sense an underlying rigidity in her spine, her shoulders. Again, her mixture of confidence and vulnerability charmed him.

  With her combination of lean athletic body and almost pixy like features, Jules could understand why a man would want to lock her away and spend all his time in her company.