Becca’s breath hitched at the gorgeous curve to his full lips and she licked her own, imagining the taste of him. He definitely had a mouth worth kissing.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. What’s wrong with you? He’s a total stranger! Glancing at him again, she squashed the mental warnings from the human side of her brain and focused on her cat instead.

If Jaylon Ross posed any kind of a threat, his scent would give it away. Right now, the only thing she sensed was his utterly sex-on-a-stick maleness.

If she had to shackle herself for the sake of her Leap, then damn it to hell, she was entitled to one day of uninhibited pleasure and she had every intention of seeing where this led.

“Where to, then?” he asked, holding his elbow out for her to take.

“Chivalry twice in two minutes. Who says gentlemen are a dying breed?” She slipped her hand around his arm and her inner cat went crazy, clawing at her to drop to all fours and give him her ass and anything else he wanted.

Here wolfy, wolfy.

No. Bad kitty. Bad.

She grinned at her own mental sparring. It was amazing to feel that alive again. Especially after everything that happened with her father and then with her brother, Charlie.

The two stepped through the revolving doors and out to the street and Becca turned to face him, knowing her cat was evident in her eyes.

“Yellow with flecks of jungle green. Your eyes were light brown a minute ago,” he said, letting a soft rumble edge his voice.

“Anticipation does that sometimes. My cat is an impatient creature.”

“Impatient for what?” he asked with a smirk.

She lifted her chin. “For whatever comes next.”

Brave much? What are you going to do if he calls your bluff? Becca’s cat answered for her, purring enough to make her skin vibrate.

Jaylon stepped to the curb and raised two fingers, whistling for a cab.

A yellow checkered taxi pulled to the corner, and a guy in a suit carrying a briefcase snatched the rear passenger handle.

“I wouldn’t do that, buddy,” Jaylon said, his voice low, but his meaning loud and clear.

The businessman turned with a retort on his lips, but his mouth puckered with one look at Jaylon’s face. He dropped his hand from the door and high-tailed it to another taxi queue.

“Stealing taxis is an art form in this town. You learn fast how to defend what’s yours,” Jay commented as the man scurried away.

Becca slid into the backseat with Jaylon’s eyes on her, and in that moment, she swore he wasn’t just talking about the cab and the tingle in her stomach turned into a full butterfly dive-bomb.

“Where to, mac?” the cabbie asked.

Jay glanced at Becca and then looked to the driver. “The Boathouse, Central Park.”

The taxi pulled into traffic and Jaylon sat back in his seat, and Becca fidgeted under the weight of his gaze.

“You seem uneasy all of a sudden,” Jay remarked.

She shook her head. “Not really. Just a slash of guilt, that’s all. I’m not one for blowing off appointments.”

“If you’ve got buyer’s remorse, Becca, I can have the driver drop you wherever you need to be. It’s okay. I get it, but I promise I don’t bite unless asked.”

She knew her cheeks had pinked again by the telltale heat. What was wrong with her? She was the Prowl Leader of her Leap, not some coy little kitten. “My bite’s worse, so I give fair warning.”

“Good.” Jaylon grinned. “I knew there was fire in those gorgeous jungle eyes.”

She met his gaze for a moment and then turned to look out at the traffic and teeming streets from the cab’s window.

“Are you sure the Boathouse will be able to accommodate us? It’s well past lunch hour,” she asked, but didn’t turn.

He chuckled. “Claws and all, you really are a naïve country mouse. New York is a twenty-four/seven town, and yes, we’ll be fine. The deck bar is one of the nicest in the city and I thought you might appreciate the view of the park from there.”

Annoyance slashed. How could one statement be so condescending and yet considerate at the same time? She turned, giving him a sugary smile. “Aww, that’s sweet.” She batted her eyes for effect. “It makes me want to ruffle your furry ears.”

He laughed out loud. “Touché. I’ll cool it with the country mouse cliché.”

Becca looked out the window again, a small smirk on her face. Gorgeous and quick on the uptake.

Her cat purred again.

This was going to be interesting.