Grinning, she nuzzled a kiss to his throat. “Instead of a movie, maybe we could talk about your family?” she suggested, still diffident about asking for emotional intimacy.
It took him less than fifteen minutes to have her in hysterics with tales of his “feral” childhood. When he started in on Mercy’s inspired ideas to run off women she didn’t think were good enough for her brothers—including the “infamous” kitten defurring incident—Kirby gulped. “I guess I better prepare myself.”
Bastien scowled where he lay on a large floor cushion, muscular arms crossed behind his head. “I was planning to tell her soon, but—”
“Don’t worry about leaving me alone for a few hours,” she interrupted before she could stop herself, shifting to her knees on her own cushion. Bastien’s family was a core part of his life and she needed to know they’d accept her. If they didn’t . . . “I—I want you to tell her.”
Scowl even heavier at her blurted-out statement, Bastien hauled her down to sprawl on his chest. “I was going to say Sage is going to blab anyway, so it can wait.”
Kirby nodded but clearly didn’t do a good job of hiding her nerves because, eyes narrowed, he continued to speak. “If I had my way, I’d have introduced you to the whole damn lot of them the instant after we met.” The unadulterated pride in his tone made her eyes burn. “I just didn’t want to scare you with the lunatic asylum straightaway.”
Kirby’s laugh was shaky, a little wet. “Really?”
Bastien stroked her hair off her face. “Really.” Damn the people who’d taught his mate she wasn’t good enough, the scars so deep even her lynx’s knowledge of their bond couldn’t keep them from breaking open. Only constant love and affection would achieve that goal. Bastien had every intention of showering Kirby in both. It would be his pleasure and his privilege.
“The second my mother knows about you,” he warned, “she’s going to start knitting booties for her grandchildren—and she’ll call you up, ask which patterns you prefer. Mercy’s barely three months along and she’s already in possession of enough booties for a football team. One with teeny tiny players.”
Kirby’s shoulders trembled as she struggled to keep a straight face. “No?”
“Oh, yes. Be afraid, be very afraid.”
A firm shake of her head. “I already like your family.”
“They’ll love you—after they make you run the gauntlet. Because you know, you could be a devious wench out to break my heart.” He thought about Mercy, decided another warning was in order. “My sister is really overprotective. Show no fear.”
Kirby bared her teeth. “Bring on the kitten defurring tools.”
“That’s my lynx.”
CHAPTER 10
After a night of exquisite torture holding Kirby’s warm, curvy body against his own without it going any further, Bastien spent the day coaching her on how to shift at will, as well as how to handle senses that had become far more acute now that her lynx was out of hibernation.
With the mating bond not yet set in stone, he was brutally possessive of her, but suggested they call in Dorian for a couple of hours. “Dorian learned to move in cat form as an adult,” he told Kirby, “so he’ll be able to explain things better.” The other male was also already mated, thus less apt to set off Bastien’s aggressive instincts, instincts he couldn’t fully control this far into the mating dance.
Kirby agreed to the instruction, but she was wary with Dorian.
However, and in spite of his violent dominance, the white-blond sentinel proved a patient teacher who had Kirby smiling at him by the time the session ended. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m so glad Bastien asked you to come over.”
Dorian didn’t respond to the heartfelt words with an affectionate touch, as Bastien knew he normally would have; the sentinel had no doubt picked up on Bastien’s precarious equilibrium. “You’re doing me a favor,” the other male said instead. “Finally I get to teach someone.”
He thrust a hand through his hair. “You have no idea the razzing I took from the others when I fell on my ass my first few hunts.” A scowl directed at Bastien. “Bas here sent me a nice sensitive card with a leopard in diapers on the front.”
Kirby’s mouth dropped open. “Bastien, you didn’t.”
Cuddling her close, he rubbed his jaw along her temple. “Sheesh, Kirby, it’s not like I could hug him and say motivational bullshit.”
Dorian’s snarl was belied by the amusement in his vivid blue eyes. They both knew the razzing had been affectionate, the entire pack overjoyed at his ability to shift.