Claiming Shayla by Zena Wynn Page A

than a scream.” She thought a bit more, then shook her head. “Either way, it had nothing to do with pain,” she assured him.
    Floored, he could do nothing but stare—again. “What are you saying?”
    Her face turned red. Was Shay… blushing? He didn’t think she knew how.
    Turning her head, she gazed over his shoulder and mumbled something.
    “What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”
    She huffed and drilled her gaze into his. “I said I liked it , okay? And if you dare laugh, you’d better learn to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.”
    It took a minute for the meaning of her words to sink in. Then another minute or two for his perception of his world to readjust. She wasn’t hurt? She’d actually liked the brutal way he’d claimed her in front of his men? Enjoyed it even?
    Slowly a cocky grin spread across his face.
    Shay slapped the arm of the recliner. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”
    “What? I didn’t laugh,” he protested, still grinning with delight.
    She glared at him. “No, you’re smirking. It’s annoying as hell.”
    As she set the nearly empty bowl on the nearby side table and lowered the foot of the chair, the realization struck that his mate, the woman he loved, wasn’t leaving. She wanted to stay—with him. He’d given her a prime opportunity to escape, and she hadn’t taken it. Never mind the contract. Shay had to know he wouldn’t have held her to it if he was the one forcing her to leave. She hadn’t even mentioned it, and as in demand as her services were, he knew she didn’t need the money from him. No, she was here because she wanted to be.
    The wonder of it all astonished him, and a surge of lust hit him so hard he almost fell to his knees under the force of it.
    Shay rose regally from the chair and sauntered up to him. When she was inches away, she smiled, an evil and malicious grin. That was the only warning he got before her booted foot slammed down on top of his bare toes.
    “ O-o-o-w! What the hell was that for ?” he roared as he hopped on one leg, cradling his abused and crushed foot in his hands, the other hand instinctively leaping to protect the family jewels in case the crazy woman decided to knee his dangling balls.
    “For involving my cousin in our business, asshole.” She kicked the shin of his standing leg with what felt like steel in the toe of her boots and shoved, upsetting his already tenuous balance. “And that’s for calling me a bitch.”
    As he crashed to the wood floor, she stepped around him, pausing as she reached the archway to call out, “Take a bath; you stink.”
    She walked out of the room humming a happy tune, leaving him on the floor cursing. And to think, mere seconds ago he’d been happy to see the little she-devil. He must have lost his mind.
    Much later, after showering—damn, he had been a bit odorous—and eating the food Shay had so considerately—considering the way she’d attacked him earlier—cooked and left in the microwave for him, he climbed naked into the bed beside his mate as she read some information technology magazine.
    “You stayed,” he marveled again, now that his toes and shin were no longer throbbing with pain.
    “Yeah…well…” She floundered. “I’m not that easy to be rid of.” She set the publication aside and turned off the lamp.
    They lay silently in the dark, two almost-strangers connected by the child growing in her womb and the fragile bond getting stronger between them.
    Shay’s voice broke the silence. “Who were those two guys?”
    Instantly jealousy arose. “Why?”
    “Considering you fucked me silly in front of them, I think it only fair that I know their names.”
    He grunted, knowing she had a valid point. Grudgingly he responded, “The one with the dreads is Caleb, my second. The big, burly guy is MacDougal, my third.” At the thought of Mac, Rory remembered his borderline defiance. The man hadn’t outright challenged him. He was too savvy for that,