He can run but he can’t hide. Not from duty. Not from danger. And especially not from the woman who forces him to face the truth.
Malcolm Gunn’s time is running out along with his ability to shift. When confronted with his past he thinks he’s found a solution. With the help of a little rope, he can let nature takes its course. Unfortunately the woman who is the key to his existence harbors a powerful secret that will destroy them both.
Cheyenne’s been hired to track and retrieve Malcolm at any cost. Her only plan is to get in, get out and keep her sanity intact. In that order. But she’s been warned…If he catches her, he will stake his claim whether she is willing or not.
Deceit and lies bring them together. Murder puts them on the run. Their enemies are closing in and there’s only one, irreversible way out. Some choices can never be forgiven and one man’s anger can destroy it all…Malcolm.
From Black Lagoon Reviews
"Malcolm, the third installment in Eliza Gayle's sexy Black Cougar series, is a must read for anyone who loves a good mystery, hot characters and a mind numbing attraction that is only out shone by the inferno of passion between them that will leave you breathless and begging for more..."
Malcolm Gunn stopped breathing at the shift of air in his house. His eyes popped open when the fur prickled along his forearms, warning him of the intruder nearby. He’d gone to bed hours ago but something had kept him from falling into a deep sleep and now he knew what.
Someone had been hunting him and was now in his home.
Nose to the air, he took a slow deep breath, seeking the scent of a hunter.
The scent was unmistakable, one any other of his kind would recognize right off the bat. His eyes slid closed as he allowed the smell deeper inside while he sought an answer to what he faced. Definitely not one of his brothers but still a cougar. He couldn’t help but wonder what idiot would be so brave as to enter the lair of a black cougar without permission. He’d easily be within his rights to kill on sight with no questions asked. Yeah, if he was still part of the clan. As an outcast no one gave a shit about him and any aggression toward another cougar could easily lead to a visit from one of his brothers, The Death Enforcers.
He brushed his fingers across the hair on his chest to relieve the prickling another’s presence in his house created. The scent had a distinct underlay to it besides the basic aggression that always lay just underneath the surface of a were cougar on a hunt. A sudden flash of sweet reached him then and his body arrowed up from the bed, his bare feet landing silently against the hardwood floors.
A woman prowled his house. And not just any woman.
Malcolm crouched low to the ground, careful not to disturb the airflow around the room. Better not to let her know he was awake and lying in wait for her. He’d give her a little more time to get closer. His hand slid back underneath the single pillow on his bed and wrapped around the hilt of the hunting knife that he kept there. Nowadays the weapon was mostly used for gutting animals he’d caught, but habit made him keep it for protection as well. He had no idea what her intentions were but he wasn’t about to face her unprepared. It had been a long time since he’d had to kill a person and while the animal in him remembered it occasionally, the man didn’t miss it at all.
He listened for any telltale sign that would indicate her location. Nothing, as he’d expected. This woman knew what the hell she was doing. A floorboard ten feet from his bedroom door creaked quietly. He smiled slowly, a surge of satisfaction spreading through him. But she wasn’t better than him. The air in the house stilled again as he imagined her waiting and listening for any indication that he’d woken from the soft sound she’d made. He’d designed and created that little trap himself and if she’d been human she would never have heard it.
Would she keep going? By now, she would have followed his scent to this room, but no way in hell would anyone ever get through that door without waking him. If this was the woman he suspected, and his body screamed it was, she’d know that and be prepared. He glanced behind at the window over his bed and decided to approach this in a different way. If she wanted to play cat and mouse he’d be more than happy to oblige her—except, like it or not, she was about to become the mouse. He crept to the window and raised it without a sound, just enough to give him room to slip out.
Malcolm inhaled the night air deep into his lungs. The scent of earth and moisture clung to everything around him. This was his favorite time of the night, those quiet hours shortly before the rest of the world woke up. Nature was at its peak power during this period. She could overpower and overcome anyone she wanted at any given time but when Mother Nature rested along with the rest of the world, his animal longed to roam.
He slipped into the cover of trees that surrounded his temporary home. A feature he’d used to his advantage more than once these past weeks. The wet grass slipped cool under his feet and the cat ached for freedom.
Not yet. He couldn’t risk the pain.
He struggled to soothe the restless animal inside him. First we confirm the identity of the woman stupid enough to enter our home, then when she’s taken care of we’ll take care of our needs.
Emerging from the forest, he crouched outside the side door that led through the garage and listened. As best he could tell, she still hadn’t breached his bedroom but he needed to hurry because there was no telling what her plan was. The bitterness of a brewing betrayal clawed at his gut. He’d honestly hoped he’d never have to see her again. At least on a conscious level.
He slipped through the dark and around his Land Rover with ease. Not only did he know this layout like the back of his hand, he didn’t need light to see. A cougar’s vision meant he saw in crystal clear clarity with or without light so not much got past him just because it was dark outside.
He turned the knob and opened the door into the house. He’d not moved an inch and her sweet smell washed over him. While his brain worried about an unwarranted attack, his dick stood up and took notice, making it damned hard to think straight when all the blood in his body pooled into his groin and his pulse beat for the not-quite-a-stranger roaming his house.
Get a grip. He seriously doubted she’d come for the long overdue fucking.
But it had been a long time since he’d been with a female of his own species. For a while, he’d toyed with some witches that liked to dance on the dark side but even he’d grown bored with that after a while. While he enjoyed his fair share of trouble, there were just some things nature didn’t intend for you to mess with and sooner or later she would fuck back.
He looked down to see his cock had tented his shorts and he cursed the loose boxers he’d chosen to sleep in. This was all he needed. He’d grab her and she’d either laugh at her effect on him or find a way to use his condition against him. There were a dozen scenarios of how this could play out running through his head as he padded through the kitchen on his way to the living room. From the middle of the room he would be able to see the full length of the hall that stretched out in front of the three bedrooms in his house.
Malcolm slowed his steps, knowing he wouldn’t get much closer without being detected unless he controlled his breathing as well as his movements. He waited for his heartbeat to slow and his breath to slide in and out of his nose on a soft, barely there whisper.
The knife hand dropped to his side, still at the ready but not overly threatening as he took the two steps to where they would be forced to come face to face. Except—fuck. She wasn’t there. No way did she slip through one of the bedroom doors without him detecting her.
“Looking for me?”