When A Beta Roars by Eve Langlais
(A Lion’s Pride #2)
Publication date: July 7th 2015
Genres: Adult, Paranormal
Synopsis:How degrading. Stuck babysitting a woman because his alpha said so. As Pride Beta, he has better things to do with his time, like washing his impressive mane, hunting down thugs for fun, and chasing tail—sometimes his own if his lion is feeling playful.But his babysitting job takes an unexpected turn when the woman he’s assigned guard duty over turns out to be his mate.A female threatened by an outside wolf pack.A woman he wants to call his own.A mate who doesn’t fall for his charm.Usually Beta’s leave the roaring to the Pride’s alpha, but in this case given his level of frustration, he might have to make an exception. And if anyone doesn’t like it, they can kiss his furry tail.
Rawr!
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Excerpt
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.
And then, she ran.
Author Bio
Hello, my name is Eve and I am a Canadian author who loves to write hot romance, usually with werewolves, cyborgs or aliens.
I should warn you that I possess a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor something I like to let loose in my writing. I enjoy strong alpha males, and shifters. Lots of big, overprotective shifters. I am also extremely partial to aliens, the kind who like to abduct humans and then drive them insane...with pleasure. Do you like something a little darker? Then check out my cyborgs whose battle with humanity have captivated readers worldwide.
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.
Giveaway
Love shifters and betas. Adding this series to my wishlist.
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