Page 48 of Breaking All The Rules
As if she knew they were talking about her in not a very flattering light, Princess meowed and twisted in Austin’s arms, and he put her down on the linoleum. The cat was clearly in her later years, but she shook herself with all the agility of a kitten as soon as all four paws were grounded and then, pointing her nose in the air, swaggered to Bea’s bed like she owned the place, her tail flicking from side to side.
With one graceful leap, she was on the end of the mattress, turning around three times before sitting regally, her head up, her legs out in front like she was a cat goddess guarding the tomb of an Egyptian queen instead of Bea’s rumpled bed. Anybody would think she was on an ancient plinth or an antique Queen Anne four-poster instead of a bed that lived in the cupboard.
Not that Bea had bothered to return the bed to its away position since she’d arrived.
Princess regarded them—her subjects—with her one good eye, assessing her new surroundings and none too taken with them, apparently. The creature had clearly declared herself the boss.
Bea glanced at Austin. “What’s Princess’s story, then?”
“Her elderly owner who had doted on her died recently, and she’s been staying with the neighbor, but she hasn’t taken the adjustment well, and when her most prized possession—a tiara cushion, in case you’re wondering”—he shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was saying any of the words out loud—“fell apart in the wash, never to be seen again, it was the last straw. And she’s been wandering around all cranky and pissed ever since.”
Bea regarded the cat with sudden solidarity. She knew exactly what it was like to have the carpet pulled right out from under you and be mad as hell. She may not be the cute kitty she had envisioned, but Bea felt a connection to Princess. She was ruffled and pissy and had clearly seen better days.
The cat reminded Bea of herself the day she’d met Austin…
“I know you were after some cute little fluff ball, but you wanted a cat and”—he gestured at Princess—“the universe delivered. And I know you’ll make one old man very happy in his grave knowing his Princess is being well taken care of.”
Bea didn’t have to think twice about it. “Yeah,” she said with a nod. “She can stay.”
“Really?”
His smile lit his whole face, and Bea’s attention was dragged from Princess to Austin, oozing vitality and confidence and wearing the hell out of his uniform. She felt like she hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate that last week. Her gaze drifted to the way his shirt fit a little too snugly across his shoulders and perfectly snug against his abs, and things got very warm inside her sweats.
Absently, she wondered if he worked out and if he had that V thing going on between those narrow hips. Wasn’t it called an Adonis belt? Or something? When she realized she was staring, Bea dragged her head out from behind Austin’s belt, Adonis or otherwise.
“Of course,” she said. “She’s got spunk.”
She almost said young and perky is overrated, but Austin was here in her apartment in his uniform, rapidly disproving that theory.
“Awesome.” He shrugged his backpack off and lowered it to the floor. “I have supplies in here for you. Food and some kitty litter. Mrs. Jennings assured me she was fully house trained.” He unzipped the bag and started pulling things out. “Where should I set up the litter box?”
Even talking about cat toileting didn’t quell the lick of heat keeping Bea’s hormones on a low boil. “Umm…the bathroom, I guess.”
Nodding, Austin grabbed what he needed, tossed his hat on the coffee table, rounded the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom. Bea was left in the middle of the room, staring after him. Princess also deigned to look over her shoulder to see where Austin had gone. Bea was pretty sure the cat’s gaze also lingered on what was an incredible ass.
Yeah…they were going to get along just fine.
Some noises came from the bathroom, then suddenly Austin reappeared. “C’mon, Princess,” he said, picking the cat up off the bed. “You need to see this.”
Aware suddenly she was still standing in the same spot as when Austin had disappeared with a less-than-impressed Princess, Bea forced herself into action.
Get a grip, Beatrice.
It was four steps to the kitchen bench and the half-full bottle of wine from last night. It was past five o’clock, right? She reached for the glass she’d used last night and poured a generous splash, then took a hearty sip. The peppery flavors of the merlot flowed across her tongue, and Bea shut her eyes, relishing the taste as the low murmur of Austin’s voice talking to Princess did funny things to her pulse.
“I think she’s got it now,” he announced.
Bea turned, resting her ass against the counter as Austin placed Princess back on the end of the bed. He petted the cat’s head for a moment or two, crooning, “Good girl,” to her, like dealing with creatures was second nature to him. Princess certainly seemed to enjoy the attention, tilting her head a little to give Austin better access.
He chuckled and petted her a bit more, and hell if it didn’t take Austin’s masculinity up about a hundred more notches, standing there in his uniform, showing some love to a one-eyed marmalade cat.
He dished out one last stroke, then dropped his hand and headed in her direction. Bea tried really hard not to check out the long, confident length of his stride and the way his dark pants pulled across his quads, but she failed miserably. By the time he’d stopped beside her at the sink, her pulse was tripping madly.
She swallowed as he flicked on the faucet. “Would you like a drink?” she asked as he washed up, using the pump soap on the windowsill. “There’s wine.” She held up her glass, like he needed an explanation as to what wine was, but hell if she could think straight with him so damn near. “Or beer in the fridge,” she added.
Or maybe just take off your clothes to confirm the presence of an Adonis belt? Please and thank you.
Eep! Heat flooded Bea’s face. She was going to hell. This was what happened when a person went too long without sexual release.
