Buy Tangling With the Tiger
"I loved this book! If you are a fan of paranormal romance, especially shifter romance, then the Lone Pine Pride books are a treat." -5 Stars, Romance Reviews by Ruckie. Full Review.
"Breathtaking paranormal romance [...] While I certainly do not want to be on Dominec's bad side, that is one tiger I wouldn't mind tangling with because he certainly captured my heart." -5 Stars, Literary Addicts. Full Review.
"Tangling with the Tiger is adventurous, it's sexy and just the right amount of dangerous to hook you in." -4 Stars, Krissy's Bookshelf. Full Review.
Tangling With the Tiger Copyright © 2015 Vivi Andrews All rights reserved.
The snow was beginning to accumulate on the paths and it creaked under Grace’s feet as she made her way to her own bungalow. It wasn’t far; she and Kelly lived in the same quadrant of the main compound—which she’d always thought was wonderfully convenient when they were using one another to scratch a sexual itch. Now she almost wished it was farther so she could walk out some of her frustration.
She was at her own door too soon. It was one of the few bungalows that didn’t have a porch—popular among the lions for lazing in the sun in the summer. She wasn’t sure what made her pause with her hand on the latch. A whisper of sound, a trace of a scent, or maybe just that awareness of someone watching her that shivered across her nerve endings.
She turned, hand still on the latch, and looked up. She didn’t see him, but instinct overruled her senses and told her he was there.
“Spying is rude, you perv,” she called—pitching her voice softly so she wouldn’t wake her closest neighbors if they were already sleeping.
Nothing. But the certainty that he was up there didn’t diminish.
“Dominec.” Sharper this time. A smidge louder. “Get your ass down here. I know you’re there.”
The scrape of a claw against shingles. A heavy body shifting above her head.
She was so prepared to see the pale yellow tiger leap to the ground beside her, she stumbled back a step when Dominec dropped to a crouch beside her in human form. His hands were partially shifted to give himself a better grip, but his clothes were damp from the snow, proving he’d been up there in human form for a while.
Dumbass. It would serve him right if he got hypothermia.
The wet cloth clung to the muscles of his shoulders and chest, accentuating the sculpted strength of his human form. His hair was damp as well, the jet-black locks curling more with the moisture, lending him a false air of boyishness. The night shadows did nothing to hide his scars—if anything making them even more ghoulish—but she’d long since stopped being distracted by the marks. Instead she found herself captivated by the heated intensity in his black eyes. Dominec was unsettling on the best of days, but today she found herself unsettled in an entirely different way.
“What are you lurking up there for?” she demanded, her voice sharper than she’d intended, but she didn’t want him to see how he’d rattled her. “Are you stalking me?”
Dominec tipped his head to the side. She wasn’t surprised when he ignored the questions. “Is Kelly your mate?” he asked.
“What? No. Who told you that?” Shit. Was that the rumor going around the pride? Had Kelly started it? Just what she needed. For it to get back to her mother that she and Kelly were official.
Dominec’s expression darkened further. “You’re in love with the Hawk?”
She snorted. “Please.”
“No.” What the f**k was with men that they all needed you to be mated? Like their puny masculine brains couldn’t comprehend the idea of a woman who might be enough on her own.
“But you have a mate?”
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business either way—”
“Answer the question,” he snapped.
Typically she would tell someone who made that demand where he could shove his question. She had no idea why she answered. “No. I don’t have a mate. Happy?”
He lunged for her with that insane speed—no one moved like Dominec—too fast for her to get her guard up. His hand closed on the side of her neck, his thumb along her jaw. She threw up a hand in an instinctive palm-heel strike, going for his solar plexus to knock his breath out and send him back a step, but his other hand redirected her strike away from his body, twisting his grip, his fingers locking around her wrist. Her free hand lifted as he leaned in to attack—head butt? Fangs to her throat?—but before she could make contact his lips pressed against hers and—
What the HELL?
He was kissing her.
Shock froze her muscles.
Dominec CrazyAss Giroux was kissing her.
And he was good. His mouth moved over hers with expert ease and all of her other senses shorted out to make room for the overload of sensation coming through the kiss. She held herself perfectly still—until he made a little frustrated growl in his throat, stepping closer without breaking the kiss so her head tipped back and suddenly there was an aspect of dominance to the kiss that simultaneously made her knees melt and fired her will to push back. So she pushed back. Shoving her tongue against his. Sucking. Nipping. Trying to win the kiss.
His growl changed.
His hand fisted in the short hair at the base of her neck, the other still caging her wrist, and she lifted her free hand to grip his damp shirt at his shoulder, jerking him closer until their bodies connected—breast to chest, hip to hip. He was only a few inches taller than she was, but it was enough to make the fit perfect, pressure hitting her right where she wanted it.
A purr rumbled in his chest as the kiss went on and on.
She didn’t know how long they would have stood there, battling for sensual control, if the high-pitched laughter of some pride teenagers hadn’t cut through the night, startling her back to sanity.
Grace lurched back, shoving with her hand on his chest and twisting her other arm to free her wrist. He let her go and she froze two steps away from him, their heavy breaths forming puffy white clouds between them as she gaped at him.
Dominec calmly straightened his shirt where she had twisted it and nodded to himself.
“Right,” he murmured, as if something had been decided.
Then he turned and walked away without a backward glance.
Her jaw fell open like the hinge had come loose. She had no idea what the f**k had just happened.
Dominec, of all people.
The man was certifiable.
But damn. Grace lifted her finger to touch her bee-stung lips. Just…damn.