When An Alpha Purrs(2)

"I'm sure."

"You know, a man your age really should have a more mature cut. The shaggy surfer style is more suited to young guys."

He dug his fingers into the armrest and fought not to growl. "I like my hair like this."                       
       
           



       

"Suit yourself. I was just saying you'd look better with a shorter cut."

Shave his precious mane? Never! "Do you always argue with your clients?"

Her eyes met his in the mirror, and he wasn't surprised to see a smile  lurking at the corners of her lips. "Only when they're wrong."

That surprised a bark of laughter from him. Despite his irritation with  the situation, and her outspoken nature, he grudgingly liked Dominic's  granddaughter. "Very well. You may cut it a little shorter than a half  inch. But not much shorter. I do not want to end up scalped."

"For a man your age and in your position, you are way too obsessed with  your hair," she muttered as she bound sections of his mane with  hairclips. Not exactly his most manly look.

Arik kept a close watch for anyone with a camera or cell phone. Dare to take a pic and he'd probably go furry.

Okay, he wouldn't go furry in public, but he sure as hell would extract  retribution. CEOs of billion-dollar corporations had an image to  maintain, and pink hair clips holding his hair at crazy angles didn't  exactly fit it.

"How come I've never met you before?" Dominic had paraded a great number  of his children and grandchildren through his barber shop over the  years.

Attention focused on her hands, which wielded a set of scissors, she  answered. "I don't visit often. I live out in the Midwest with my mom  and dad. I was actually working at a hair salon out there until it shut  down, and Granddad offered me a job here."

"You just packed up and moved?"

"Why not?" She released a layer of hair, and the scissors kept snipping.  Golden bits flittered to the floor, and Arik tried to not tense. There  was just as much hair strewn as when Dominic cut it. She seemed to know  her business when it came to using scissors, but for some reason, he  couldn't shake his unease.

"Women should stay close to family." His female family members certainly  did, despite his best efforts to pawn them off onto other tribes and  cities. Hell, he'd even tried to bribe some of his more rascally cousins  with the promise of condos on other continents. However, the lionesses  in his pride were content. A sign he was a good leader, but annoying as  it meant they were constantly putting their whiskered noses in his  business.

And they also loved to play matchmaker.

"When are you going to give us some cubs?" Not a day went by that he didn't hear this.

"I've got a friend I want you to meet." Fun for a night, until the next  day when his cousin hammered him to make some kind of commitment.

The hairdresser reacted to his statement about a woman's place with a  snort. "Get with the times, big guy. We're no longer strapped to a  kitchen or forced into arranged marriages. We even get to vote. Girls  nowadays often move away from home and have jobs. Or at least this one  does."

He couldn't help but wince as she gave a decisive snip to his mane. So  far, everything looked good. Yet he could have sworn ominous music  hummed at the edges of his mind, feeding a certain dread he'd never  admit aloud.

Scared of this woman and her scissors? Never. And his lion reinforced this with a very masculine rawr.

Still though, she'd essentially accused him of being a chauvinist. He  explained himself. "I did not mean to sound misogynistic. I merely  stated that women often find comfort in having family around them."

"I do have family here."

"Touché." Then he couldn't have said what prompted him to ask, "What of  your boyfriend? I'm sure he's not pleased at your abrupt departure."

She paused and stared at him in the mirror. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of asking if I'm single?"

"Was I being subtle? Let me rephrase then. Do you have a lover?" He'd challenge him to a duel if she did and-

Hold on a second. He wasn't challenging anyone, especially not the human boyfriend of a hairdresser he'd just met.

Just met, and yet wanted.

The realization made him frown. Time to hit the dating circuit again if a  plump and mouthy human girl was capable of making him irrational. It  didn't help that his lion urged him to rub against her and mark her with  their scent-to keep other males away.

Not happening. Marking any kind of female was bound to create  complications. Arik wasn't about to settle down or commit himself. He  was in his prime. Playing the field.

Flirting with a hairdresser who set his hairs on end-and brought his erotic senses alive.

The things I could do to her. Nibbles on her creamy skin …  Nips at that  luscious lower lip, which pulled taut as she frowned at him and said,  "First off, I don't think my love life is any of your business." Snip.  "Second. Even if I were single, I wouldn't date you." Snip. Snip.                       
       
           



       

"Why not?" He could have blinked in astonishment when the query emerged  from his mouth. However, a curious kitty needed to know. Women just  didn't say no. It wasn't arrogant of him to claim it, not when it was  fact.

Rejection was not something he encountered. Until now.

"Are you seriously having to ask why I won't date you?" She sounded so  incredulous. "Would you like me to recite the list alphabetically?"

Actually, he did. "Let's hear it."

Not even a pause. "Asshat. Braggart. Cocky tied with chauvinist. Dumbass. Egotistical. Do I really need to go on?"

A chuckle rumbled forth from him-again. What was it about this woman  that delighted him? She kept arguing and defying him at every turn, and  yet he couldn't help but find her amusing. She utterly intrigued him,  especially as he tried to guess what she'd say next. How refreshing to  come across a female that wasn't related to him, or impressed by him,  who dared to treat him as a man.

One she considered beneath her standards.

"I think your list needs tweaking." He launched a defense of his character.

"Oh really? And just how do you see yourself? I'm sure this will be good."

"Let me see. Attractive, bold, courageous, daring, elegant, ferocious,  especially as a lover," he admitted with a wink. "Gallant."

With a derisive snort, she interrupted. "Ha. I highly doubt that."

"And yet you don't really know me. My lady friends would tell you that I  am a gentleman." When it came to opening doors and picking up the  check. Other than that, there was nothing gentle about him. Just ask  those who crossed him.

Kings didn't let anyone question their authority.

"I wouldn't know, though, about this supposed gallantry, because I'm not your lady friend."

"You could be." He gave her another chance. She truly did draw him in  with the roundness of her figure, hugged by faded denim and topped with a  baggy sweatshirt that drooped enticingly off a shoulder, baring a black  strap.

Lace or cotton? A feline mind wanted to know.

But apparently he wouldn't know today, as she, yet again, managed to resist him.

"Date you? Not likely."

Again words emerged from him without volition. "Why not?"

"Oh please. I've seen enough to know you're not my type."

Such a liar. Apparently he wasn't the only one aroused by their  repartee. The musky scent of her arousal tickled his senses. It made him  bolder. "I guarantee when I'm between your thighs and you're clawing my  back, you'll be screaming a different tune."

So he might have come on a tad strong with that last statement. That was still no excuse for what happened next.

"Pig." However it wasn't the animal insult that was her most grievous crime. It was the gigantic hunk of hair she snipped off!

An irreplaceable, thick chunk of his hair permanently removed. Accidental or intentional, it didn't matter.

Ack! My mane. My beautiful, precious mane.

He couldn't help a low rumbling growl. His eyes glinted in the mirror,  the gold catching the light and reflecting it, along with his fury.

"You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That." And yes, he might have growled the last bit.

"Oops? Did I do that? Sorry." Said with no repentance at all. With a  smirk and a blown kiss, she let her crime rain down over him in a  golden, threaded shower.

And then, she ran.





Chapter Two


"You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That." The client who'd blatantly sexually  propositioned her sounded more beast than man. His evident rage and  disbelief had her eyeing the clump of hair she had just hacked off.

Oh hell. I did not just do that. But she had. She'd cut the big guy's precious hair.