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Book of the Week: Mated to a Cajun Werewolf

Mated to a Cajun Werewolf

Torn apart…

The Deverauxs and Vassars have been fighting for hundreds of years, but somehow Andre and Juliette fell in love. More than that, they’re mates. Destined to be together for eternity until betrayal tore them apart.

Together again…

When business sends Andre Deveraux to Savannah he comes face to face with Juliette for the first time in sixty five years. Their crash course renews old memories and desires. With Juliette stranded and the hurricane of the century roaring to shore, Andre has no choice but to offer her a lift.

He’s in for the ride of his life.

Warning: Filled with desire that has built for two centuries, one raging hurricane, two passionate, headstrong werewolves and a ride you’ll never forget.




“I know,” she said quietly. She probably did. Angelica Humphrey was an amazing woman, easy-going, expressive, giving. Perfect in so many ways. And she fit seamlessly into Pack life.

“Any progress on the house?” he asked, hoping that questions about something other than him would ease some of the growing tension. When their home had burnt to the ground last month, Sebastian, his older brother and the Alpha of their pack, had declared that they would rebuild. Construction had already begun.

“Sebastian’s looking for a supplier of old flooring. There was a reporter snooping around the other day but Gin and Burke ran him off. They’ve almost got the roof on.”

She continued talking, telling him about the plans that Amanda and Sebastian, the pack’s Alphas, were making. Only half listening, he heard something about overstuffed furniture, rocking chairs and a nursery.

He watched the TV screen and the storm that was heading to shore. Just then a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that all flights had been canceled due to weather.

“Angel…” he interrupted. She fell silent. “They just canceled my flight. I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Love ya. Be careful.”

“You too.”

He ended the call and stared at the phone for several seconds. That ache was still there nestled in his heart. He’d dwelled on their relationship far longer than he should have. The pact with Jules didn’t extend to mates. And even if it did, he just didn’t love Angel with an all-consuming passion. He’d only felt that with one woman. The one woman he could never have.

Gathering his luggage, he headed back to the rental car counter where he’d dropped off the keys to the SUV a few hours ago. Somehow, he had to get out of here. His business was rapped up. The sale was going to go through. Sebastian would be pleased. Negotiating the throng of people, he wondered what they would do once they were no longer the owners of Deveraux Shipping.

For the last decade they’d thrown themselves into their business and for a time it had made their bachelorhood tolerable. But lately there had been a gnawing at André’s gut reminding him that there was more to life than making money.

Maybe he’d travel. He’d never been to Canada or Antarctica. Maybe a world cruise was in order. He’d definitely have to consider that once he got back to Louisiana.

As he stepped up to the car rental counter, he caught a whiff of perfume mixed with warm, alluring woman. But it was distinctively werewolf too. The delicious scent teased his memory, tormenting him.

Man, he had it worse than he thought. White hot lust coursed through his veins and his cock twitched to life. Just being in the same part of the country and he was thinking he could smell her—

“What do you mean you have no other cars? As in none?” A feminine voice floated down the expanse to him. There was a trace of accent, French, and a barely controlled panic.

His head swiveled left toward the sound, and he caught sight of the woman in all her furious glory. A mane of long mahogany waves cascaded over her shoulders. The silky strands made his fingers itch to sweep them from her face. His gaze swooped lower, taking in the sophisticated charcoal gray dress that hugged her tall curvy frame like denim fresh from the dryer. Her legs, pale and bare of pantyhose, went on for miles. She wore ultra-sexy, black leather heels. And her toes, dear God, the perfectly painted red polish did crazy things to his mind.

At the same moment, his body tensed and his heart dropped. He knew the woman without having to look at her face. She’d have wide blue eyes, a perfect nose—minus the old break—and ruby red lips. She was pretty without being overly beautiful. Her special blend of quiet assurance and subtle seduction could have a man eating out of the palm of her hand with a single lick of her lips.

André knew that, knew her, all too well. Juliette Vassar was the one woman in all of Savannah, non…the world, that he’d hoped to avoid on this trip. He’d sworn to himself that he would not search her out and yet here she was. Were the stars in alignment? Were the Fates playing tricks on him?

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, showing off the creamy column of her neck. He swallowed a groan and slowly traced the profile he knew so well.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“Was that an invitation?” André jerked his gaze to the short blonde behind the counter. She gave him a willing smile.

He raised an eyebrow and then sat his briefcase at his feet. “I’m going to need the SUV again.” He tried not to notice the disappointment in her eyes.

How the hell was he going to get out of here without Juliette seeing him? Like him, she had a killer sense of smell, and he was willing to bet his life that she still felt the bond between them just like he did.

It would pull them together like magnets if he let it. All those years ago, they hadn’t just been in love. He hadn’t just worshiped the ground she walked on, adored and desired her.Non. He’d mated with her. For life.

Overhead a voice blared through a speaker. “The weather service has issued a voluntary hurricane evacuation—”

“Great,” André muttered as the crowd around him surged into chaos.

“If you’ll sign here, Mr. Deveraux.” He took the pen she offered and scrawled his signature on the line.

“What about you? Do you have any cars left?” Juliette’s voice was closer this time. André grabbed the keys to his rental and turned to gather his things. His gut tightened into little knots. Just turn around and walk away.

But he couldn’t. Sighing, he turned back to see her blue eyes glimmering with hope and a hint of desperation.

“No, ma’am. I’m afraid not,” the attendant said in a thick southern accent. André didn’t like the way the man behind the counter ogled Juliette. Didn’t like it one little bit. But he pushed the feeling aside and picked up his briefcase.

One by one the counters closed.

“I can take you wherever you need to go, cheri.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Inwardly, he grimaced.

Juliette turned toward the dreamy masculine voice. Deep, gravelly, she’d know it anywhere. That same voice had starred in all of her fantasies from the time she’d understood the attraction between men and women. Seductive words whispered in her ears as a young woman had caused her to lose her heart to its owner centuries before.

But that was a long time ago. She pulled her shoulders back and sucked in her stomach. Then she turned slowly, telling herself she would not cave in to him again. She would not forget what he’d done to her brother. She would not forgive him.

So she said the only thing guaranteed to put emotional space between them. “Aren’t you on the wrong side of the river, swamp rat?”

A | BN | ARe | S