Animalistic (Tiger in Her Bed)

“I was afraid you might not make it.” The man eyed Trent appreciatively. “And who’s this handsome man? Don’t tell me; let me guess. You’re John’s little brother?”

“Older,” Trent corrected.

“My mistake! You look younger.” The man winked at John.

Trent wasn’t accustomed to men flirting with him, but John didn’t seem bothered at all. Perhaps he was just used to it now. “Trent is a year older than me and my brother Quinn is three years older. He is the oldest.”

“I know Quinn Alexander. He’s one of the nicest gentleman I’ve ever met. We were introduced at the mayor’s charity gala last month. I heard Quinn got engaged recently, and it was only a few days later than I received the invitation for the wedding. How about that? All the ladies in the city are heartbroken. One of the most eligible bachelors in New York had been taken.”

This time, Trent felt like running toward a wall and ramming his head into it repeatedly until he died. He couldn’t stand this idle chatter.

John only laughed. He seemed to be thriving in this environment.

Trent cringed. Who would’ve known that his brother liked to gossip?

Eyes twinkling, John drawled in his smoothest tone, “Sorry ladies, the only single Alexander left is me. Quinn is getting married and Trent here had his heart stolen today.”

“What? No...” the blondes chorused their disappointment.

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Who is she?”

“Tell us!”

“Now, now my chickadees, no fighting. I believe you’ll find many eligible bachelors at the party tonight,” said the man dotingly.

Trent wished he brought his gun. He would very much like to use it on himself right now.

“Ah, where are my manners?” said John. “Trent, this is Allessandro Severo, the Broadway producer I was telling you about. He and I are discussing the possibility of producing a modern take on a Shakespeare classic,” John said as he introduced his brother to the producer.

Trent shook the producer’s hand. “How are you?”

“Fabulous. Tell me Trent… do you act?” Severo asked.

“Fuck no.”

“My brother is a former Air Force intelligence officer. He just returned home from his last tour. He’s still adjusting,” John interjected smoothly as an apology for Trent’s curtness.

“Oh, shush. Your brother is intriguing. Everyone loves a man who is a little rough around the edges. Oh, does he have a job?” Severo asked John.

“I have a job, thank you,” Trent answered quickly before Severo could offer him one.

The man tsk-ed disappointedly. “We could have used a strapping young man like you in the production.”

Trent rolled his eyes. Maybe a gun wouldn’t be enough to put him out of his misery. A grenade started to sound promising…

He knew he had to extract himself from the conversation before he lost his patience entirely. Clearing his throat, he whipped an excuse out of his ass. “Excuse me, I need to refill my drink. I’ll be back.” Yeah, not in a million years. He planned to sneak out of the party and hail a cab home since John had the keys to the car. Coming here had been a bad idea.

He went to the buffet table and put down his champagne flute. He was searching for the exit when suddenly, he caught her scent.

Her.

The mysterious lady in black, Arielle Winter.

That’s it, I’m losing it. I’m so obsessed with her, I’m starting to smell her everywhere.

But his tiger disagreed. She was close. She was somewhere in this room.