"Hey, Justin," Jim said. "I noticed that you ain’t been around for the past few days. When I asked Billie, she told me you'd gone out of state for Cassie's wedding! And when I found out that Mr. Baldwin, Mr. Tigredientes, Mr. Lowenzahn, and both of the Katzenbergs were also gone, I put two and two together."

"What?" Justin asked, feeling his gut tighten.

Billie was his restaurant manager, and he'd asked her not to say anything about the reason for his sudden departure. But Wildcat Springs was a small town, and Justin knew it was nearly impossible to keep a secret.

Had the news gotten out already about what had happened to the pride's highest-ranking members? If so, did he need to rush back home to Wildcat Springs to stake his claim?

"Congratulations!" Jim replied cheerfully. "How'd you do it? After your girl ran away, none of us ever thought it would work out between her and Mr. Baldwin!" He paused. "Though no one can figure out why the rest of the pride wasn't invited to the mating ceremony or the wedding. Tell ya now, there's gonna be a lot of hurt feelings 'bout that."

"No one was invited because Cassie didn't marry Ed Baldwin," Justin bit out. "And just so you know, he and the others are dead. Except for Paul Katzenberg. Last I heard, he was in the hospital and headed for jail after that."

There was a long shocked silence on the other end of the line.

Finally Jim said, "Holy shit, Justin. What in hell is goin' on?"

Justin debated briefly about how much to tell the other shifter. Then he shrugged. No need to keep anything a secret now.

"Baldwin and his thugs came up to Idaho to interfere with Cassie's wedding," Justin said. "They tried to kidnap her, but she managed to crash their getaway van. When Cassie's new mate and I got there, along with a few other shifters, I killed Tigredientes, and Cassie killed Baldwin. All in self-defense, of course," he added.

"Cassie killed Mr. Baldwin?" Jim asked disbelievingly. "Little Miss 'Fraidy Cat killed the Pride First?" He paused, then asked cautiously. "Mr. Baldwin's really dead? You sure about that, Justin?"

Justin bristled at the old insulting nickname for his daughter. "Yep," he said shortly. "I saw Cassie kill him. He's deader than a doornail."

Another silence. Baldwin had been feared more than he had been loved by the pride, and he had ruled with iron claws and the aid of his gang of enforcers.

"Ms. Long gonna claim Pride First?" Jim asked finally.

Justin noted the new, respectful form of address. He suspected that no one would ever refer to his daughter as "'Fraidy Cat" again.

In the aftermath of the abduction attempt, Cassie and Justin had had a long talk about what her revenge on Baldwin might mean for both her and the New Braunfels Pride.

Cassie had been adamant about not wanting to return to the pride. She and Thor were planning to live in the Denver area, where Thor would continue working as a member of the Rocky Mountain Hot Shots smokejumper team. She planned to resume her interrupted graduate program at the University of Colorado.

"Not a chance in hell," Justin said confidently.

"What about you? If you took out Tigredientes, and all the other ranking members are dead, then you got a reasonable claim on Pride First," Jim continued.

"I've been thinkin' about that," Justin admitted.

He knew he could do a better job ruling the pride than Baldwin and his thugs. And he'd been thinking a lot about what kind of place Wildcat Springs could be without Ed Baldwin skimming all of the businesses' profits for his own use.

"So, I should tell the rest of the pride to be expectin' you to come home soon?"

Justin began to answer. Then his eye fell on Elle, who was toying with her sandwich and politely trying to pretend she couldn't overhear the conversation.

He met her gaze, and he thought he saw disappointment there.

That was one hell of a kiss they'd shared this afternoon, and he really didn't want to end things with Elle on such an inconclusive note.

"I got some things to do up here," he said, decisively, and gave Elle a slow smile. "I'll need a few more days to, uh, wrap things up on this end."

"Okay," Jim said. "Just one more question: if Ms. Long didn't mate Mr. Baldwin, then who did she mate and marry? I ain't heard any news from any of the other prides."

Justin chuckled. "That's because she mated a bear shifter, if you can believe it."

Jim didn't say anything, but Justin could sense his surprise anyway.

He knew what the other shifter was thinking: a potentially fertile young female sabertooth shifter, and her father had allowed her to mate outside her lineage?

In a world where the numbers of sabertooth shifters were steadily dwindling, such a thing was practically unheard-of.

Justin chuckled. "He's a nice young man, and he'll do for her."

"Uh, I see," Jim said hesitantly. "Congratulations, Justin. And give my regards to Ms. Long."

After Justin ended the call, he knew he should be feeling triumphant at the unexpected prospect of pride leadership. But all he felt was torn.

He'd dreamed about this moment for a long time, when he and the pride would be free of Baldwin's malign influence.

But now, the prospect of facing a lifetime of cutthroat sabertooth politics felt empty. There would always be another Ed Baldwin to come along and challenge Justin for Pride First.

And if he actually succeeded in holding on to his newfound position, he'd have even less free time than he did now. There'd be little or no chance to snatch an occasional weekend away to spend advancing his courtship plans with Elle.

Was that really what he wanted?

* * *

"I'm glad to hear that you'll be staying here for a little while longer," Elle said, filled with sudden elation. "I wanted to show you to my secret little lake up in the mountains. I thought we could go for a ramble and a picnic."

She found herself holding her breath, hoping she hadn't misunderstood Justin's reasons for wanting to delay his departure from Bearpaw Ridge.

To her relief, he grinned. "I'd really like that," he said. "Am I right in thinking that we might let our beasts out for a bit of fresh air?"

She smiled at him, feeling as light as air that he wanted to spend more time with her.

"We sure could," she agreed. "Not many Ordinaries go to that part of the national forest. There aren't any access roads or trails."

Justin scooted his chair away from the table and made an inviting gesture. "Why don't you come over here and tell me more about it?" he purred.

"Why, Mr. Long," she said coyly, as she rose from the table, her half-eaten sandwich forgotten in the rush of desire. "I'd love to."

"Please tell me you locked the front door this time," he joked as she walked around to his side of the small breakfast nook table.

Elle settled herself on his hard, muscled thighs. "Oh, after what happened this afternoon, I suspect that no one's going to be barging in here until your visit is over." She chuckled, remembering the shocked look on her son's face. "I think poor Mark is still traumatized."

He slid his hands around her waist and under her blouse. She liked the feeling of his warm hands against her bare skin.

"About that," he began, with an apologetic look. "I really do have to get home to—"

Elle sensed he was about to start making excuses for having a life outside of Bearpaw Ridge. She interrupted him by pressing a teasing finger against his firm lips.

"Between my ranch and your pride, I think we both know that anything serious is out of the question," she said. "So let's just enjoy the time we have here."

His tawny brows shot up. She saw understanding hit, and his striking eyes suddenly acquired a predatory gleam as his hands tightened pleasantly on her hips.

"Why, Mrs. Swanson, are you making me an indecent proposal?" he asked with a combination of humor and eagerness.

Elle liked the way his lips moved against her finger and liked it even more when he nipped delicately at it before drawing it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue.

She drew a sharp breath as pleasure jolted through her like a lightning strike and blossomed into pure, throbbing need between her thighs.

"I don't know," she said breathlessly. It was suddenly difficult to think straight. "It depends whether you consider a short fling indecent or not."

His expression softened as he slowly released her finger with a last, lingering flick of his tongue.

"Nothing about you could ever be indecent," he said gallantly.

His aquamarine eyes were luminous now with desire.

In reply, she slid her arms around his neck and bent to kiss him. He responded hungrily, taking control of the kiss, using his lips and his clever tongue to stoke the desire inside her from a burning flame to a raging inferno.

When at last they both surfaced from the timeless, blissful interval of kissing, Elle had no idea how much time had passed. And she didn't really care.

She needed more. And their clothes were definitely in the way.

Elle hastily pulled her blouse over her head, leaving her bra on for now, then fumbled to unfasten the pearl snaps of Justin's shirt.

It felt a little odd to be doing this with someone who wasn't Ashton, but every inch of her body was demanding to be skin-on-skin with Justin as soon as possible, and she didn't want to resist the urge.

He smelled enticingly of clean male and healthy cat and musky desire, and she wanted to cover herself with that scent and drown in it while exploring every inch of him.

She rapidly unsnapped the front of Justin's cowboy shirt and pushed it eagerly off his shoulders. Then she tugged at the T-shirt he wore underneath.

As his muscled torso was bared to her hungry gaze, Elle felt him tense beneath her. She leaned forward, gave him another lingering kiss, and kept going

Then she froze, shocked at the sight of the rows of parallel scars running across his torso, crisscrossing his pectorals and traveling all the way up to his collarbones.

The scars, pale pink and slightly raised against Justin's skin, were laid in a pattern that told Elle that Justin had been restrained somehow while someone—another sabertooth, by the looks of it—had methodically clawed his skin and muscle right down to the bone.

Elle had seen one other set of scars like this…on Cassie, when she had taken her new daughter-in-law to shop for wedding dresses.

Cassie's scars had horrified her, but Justin's were worse. A lot worse.

"Your Pride First…Baldwin…did this to you?" she asked in horrified disbelief.

Justin sighed and gave a single sharp nod. His mouth was compressed into a thin line, and his usual good-natured expression had petrified to chiseled granite.

Elle took a closer look and realized that his skin must have been hanging in ribbons by the time Baldwin and his enforcers had finished with him.

She felt Justin brush the tip of her breast with his knuckles, and her gaze left his scars and flew up to meet his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said and stroked her again, smirking a little at her involuntary gasp of pleasure.

She felt her nipple tighten in response through the lacy fabric of her bra.

"Not now, not here. I got more pleasant things on my mind right now." Justin hesitated. "You don't mind? That I got all these scars?"

"No," she said, panting a little.

Based on what he'd already told her, she could guess what had happened…and why.

She swallowed hard, sickened by the thought of how much pain Justin must have endured, and reached out to gently trace the path of one scar from the top of his shoulder down to his dark pink nipple.

"You're the sexiest man I've seen in a long time," she said honestly. "And who am I to judge? I've got a few scars of my own, plus all the wear and tear from five children. It's what happens when you make it to a certain age. If you don't mind, I don't either."

Justin drew her close and bent his head. She felt his hot breath through her bra.

"'It's not the years, it's the mileage,'" he said solemnly, and she recognized the quote.

"And you're every bit as dashing as Indiana Jones," she informed him.

In response, he kissed each of her breasts in turn, his mouth hot and wet on the lacy cups of her bra.

Then she felt his teeth close gently on one hard nipple through the fabric. White-hot sensation made her arch, and a low whimper of pleasure forced its way out of her throat.

She clutched at his shoulders.

"I want you Elle," he breathed, his voice gone low and husky with need. "I want to kiss every inch of you, and make love to you until we're both exhausted. And then I want to fall asleep in your bed and in your arms and do it all over again in the morning."

Me, too.

"Then stop talking and take me to bed!" she suggested breathlessly.