Chase, Zara - Tigers' Temptation [Impulse 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)

“I’ve told you before about wiping your paws.”

“Thanks for that helpful input, wise guy.”

Mikael looked at her, trying hard not to be influenced by her beauty and his growing infatuation with her. He’d get over it, just like always. Except he’d never felt this strongly for a woman before. The irony wasn’t lost on Mikael. He hated reporters with a passion, considered them all to be parasites, but if he wasn’t careful, he’d finish up falling headlong in love with this one.

“Nothing to say for yourselves?” she asked, crossing her arms defensively beneath her breasts and pushing them up higher beneath the oversized T-shirt she was wearing. “I know you lied to me about going to med school at Yale, Mikael. What else aren’t you telling me?”

Mikael held on to his temper with difficulty. “What makes you think I should tell you anything?”

“You’re running a research institute here, taking money from donors who think you’re a qualified doctor. Do they know you’re a fake? I’m sure it’ll make a great exclusive.”

“Just a minute,” Philo said. “Why would you…”

Mikael and Layla stood inches apart, staring at one another like prize fighters, both ignoring Philo’s attempt to arbitrate.

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it? The latest scoop.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Layla shot back. “So don’t presume to know what motivates me.”

“I could throw those same words back at you. Let me guess, you’ve gone online, can’t find my name as a graduate of Yale, and have jumped to conclusions based on what…a two-minute search?” Mikael rolled his eyes. “In-depth journalistic research at its finest.”

“So explain to me what I should have done.”

“Oh no, I don’t need to tell you anything. Besides, trust needs to be earned. You tell me what really brought you to Impulse, and, if I believe you, I’ll tell you more about the setup here.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You see,” Mikael said, conscious of a muscle in his jaw flexing and hardening when he ground his teeth in frustration. “It all comes down to trust again. It’s up to you, sweetheart. The ball’s in your court.”

“He’ll show you his if you show him yours,” Philo said, clearly striving to inject a note of humor into the crystalline silence that ensued.

“I think you already did.” She glanced down at their genitalia, the amusement in her tone causing Mikael to relax his guard just fractionally.

She walked across to the seating area in their large bedroom and curled up in the corner of a settee, feet tucked beneath her the way women did. Mikael and Philo took the single-occupancy chairs facing her.

“I didn’t come across those accounts of miracle cures by accident,” she said slowly. “I found them because I deliberately went looking.”

* * * *

Layla said nothing more, watching for their reaction, waiting for the flood of questions that was bound to ensue. It didn’t happen. It was like she hadn’t spoken. Both men remained right where they were, draped elegantly in their chairs, legs splayed casually over the arms, completely comfortable in their nakedness. She wished they’d put some damned clothes on. It was hard enough to remember why she was mad at them without this graphic reminder of their impressive physicality and…er, even more impressive assets.

It was clear that Philo was open-minded, ready to hear her out, but she could sense Mikael’s heightened suspicions. He might have lied about his qualifications, but perhaps he had his reasons for that. He was right to say that she hadn’t been completely open with him. It was a standoff, but she needed them more than they did her. She was more convinced than ever that if any help was available for Amy, it somehow lay here in Impulse. And Mikael was the key to it all. Besides, both guys had gotten under her skin. It would be easy—way too easy—to fall for them both. As well as being ridiculous, it was also out of the question, of course. No one got to have two men to themselves, did they? Whatever, it was still important for her to gain their respect.

“Perhaps I’d better start at the beginning,” she said, sighing.

“That’s usually best,” Philo agreed, smiling his encouragement.

“I was raised in Boston by my mom. My dad left her when she got pregnant and I’ve never met him.” She shrugged. “Don’t even know his name. He never wanted to know me, so I’m not interested.”

“You have no siblings?” Philo asked.

“No, it was always just me and Mom. She was and still is very attractive, but she never married, swearing off all men as being more trouble than they were worth after the way my dad abandoned her. She dedicated all her time to raising me as best she could instead.” Layla smiled. “It wasn’t always easy for her. She often worked two jobs to make ends meet, but I never once heard her complain.”

“Where is she now?” Mikael asked.

“She lives with me in Boston.”

Layla stretched her legs along the full length of the sofa. Philo’s gaze was fixed on them, and he made some sort of choking sound. A cross between a groan and that purring thing she’d heard both men do. She thought it probably indicated approval, but she hadn’t done it to try and make an impression, even though she knew her legs were definitely one of her better features. She’d simply moved them because she had a cramp.

“I always wanted to go into journalism and Mom encouraged me,” she explained. “She helped me through college, virtually giving up on a life of her own so I could live mine. I repaid her by making it, if that’s the right way to describe the turns my life took after graduation. I got a lowly position on the
Boston Globe
making coffee, running errands, learning the trade from the bottom up. I didn’t care what I did, just so long as I was a small part of that vibrant newsroom.

“After a year, I’d earned a little more responsibility and got some tiny assignments of my own. Most of them involving trailing along behind more experienced reporters, doing all the grunt stuff they didn’t want to do themselves. Interviewing witnesses to crimes, doing the court run, stuff like that. The chief reporter on the crime beat took me under his wing, and…well, I guess you could say our relationship went beyond the professional.”

“You had an affair with the jerk?” Mikael asked with a definite growl.

“Yeah, for two years. We were both unmarried, both loved our jobs, so it kinda made sense.” She sighed. “And then, six years ago, I found out I was pregnant.”

“Ah.” Mikael rubbed his jaw. “And he wasn’t happy about it, presumably.”

“No. He thought I’d tricked him, which I absolutely hadn’t. I was married to my career just as much as he was and certainly didn’t want a baby. It was an accident.” She shrugged. “I was on the pill, but I’d had food poisoning, been sick and—”

“Yeah, that would do it,” Mikael said, his tone no longer rigidly distant.

“Anyway, Jerry just assumed I’d have an abortion, even offered to pay for it.”

“But let me guess,” Philo said. “You couldn’t do it.”

“No. My mom could have aborted me, but she didn’t.” She paused. “Amy’s five and a half now.”

“So that’s why you quit a promising career and went freelance,” Mikael surmised.

“Yes, I didn’t want to ask Mom to help me raise Amy when she’d already given up her youth to raise me. I had quite a few contacts in the business by then, called in a few favors, and got started as a freelance.”

“You do human interest stuff, right?” Philo asked.

“Yes, that and anything I can sell that pays well.”

“But you and your mom still live together,” Mikael said.

“We didn’t until a few months ago.”

Philo sent her a scorching gaze that she felt all the way to her pussy. “What happened a few months ago?”

“Amy got terminally sick.”

Chapter Eight

Mikael and Philo shared a protracted glance.

“What’s wrong with her?” Mikael asked.

“Exactly the same as that little boy I saw the other day. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia and, like him, she’s one of the ten percent who isn’t responding to treatment.” Layla shook her head, tears swamping her eyes. “I won’t put her through another around of chemo. The only thing it’s done so far is to make her feel even worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Mikael said softly, aware how inadequate the words must have sounded.

“So am I. Believe me, if I could suffer in her place, I’d swap with her in a heartbeat.”

Philo reached across and ran a hand across her thigh. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.”

“It’s so fucking unfair. She’s just a little girl, for God’s sake. She never did anything to hurt anyone.” Tears coursed down Layla’s face. “Why? Why her?”

How often had Mikael heard that lament? He hadn’t been able to answer it on those other occasions, and he couldn’t now.

“I take it she’s running out of time,” he said.

“Yes, unless I can find another way, she’ll be dead within a year. Two at the most.”

“Do you have her medical records?”

“On my laptop.”

“I’ll look at them tomorrow. There might be something I can—”

“Mikael!” Philo held up a warning hand. “You can’t.”

“You can help her, can’t you?” Layla fixed Mikael with a penetrating stare, her expression filled with hope. “It’s what you do. You’re the miracle worker. I knew it almost at once.”

Philo shook his head. “No, he isn’t.”

“Possibly,” Mikael said at the same time.

“You’re too weak, lover,”
Philo pheromoned.
“We agreed you wouldn’t take any more terminal cases unless…until we find a mate to restore our powers.”

“Perhaps I can do just one more.”

“You could if we mate with Layla.”

“No! She’d agree to anything if it makes her daughter better. But once we get her over her illness, Layla will want to go back to her glamorous job as a reporter. Mating’s for life, you know that. I won’t have her agree to it out of a sense of obligation.”

“She really likes us, is all I know,”
Philo pheromoned stubbornly.
“We could make her love us.”

“Love can’t be dialed up to order.”

“Guys,” Layla said. “You’re staring at each other.”

“Are you gonna tell her?”
Philo pheromoned.

“I guess. We can always wipe her mind later if it doesn’t work out.”

“Okay, Layla,” Mikael said, taking a deep breath. “Here’s the deal. What I’m about to tell you is absolutely not for publication anywhere and doesn’t leave this room. Do I have your word on that?”

She set her feet on the ground and leaned forward, elbows on her knees, staring at him intently once again. “Absolutely!”

“Impulse is different because…shit, there’s no easy way to tell you this. You’re never gonna believe it anyway, so I might just as well come right out and say it.” He paused, looking her straight in the eye. “We’re a colony of feline shape-shifters.”

Mikael and Philo watched her closely, waiting for the laughter, the exclamations of disbelief, the anger for making up lies when she’d just opened her heart to them and told them all about her daughter. To their astonishment, her eyes widened, but apart from that she took the revelation entirely in her stride.