Riley's Mate Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Riley’s Mate

  Sexy Shapeshifter Romance

  Kathryn Kelly

  Copyright © 2018 by Kathryn Kelly

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Wholesome Contemporary Romance by Kathryn Kelly

  Time Travel Romance By Kathryn Kelly

  Historical Romance by Kathryn Kelly

  Chapter One

  Riley Harrison had not set foot on the Silver Wolf Ranch in ten years. As she steered her rental car into the gravel driveway and passed through the iron electronic gate, still open during the day, her stomach flipped at the familiar sight of the main house – a castle in the Rockies.

  She parked in the guest area, got out of the car, and stretched her back. She’d been in the car for two hours since leaving the Denver Airport. It had been one of the few times she’d driven a car in the ten years since she’d left Colorado.

  The May air was crisp, typical for the season, and the smell of wood smoke drifted from the cabins behind the lodge. A little puff of clouds blocked the view of the mountain peaks. A line of horseback riders meandered their way to the barn. She shaded her eyes and squinted, but couldn’t tell who was leading the horseback rides now.

  She went up the stairs and into the main house. It smelled the same. Inviting. Like walking into a pine forest. The scent of an apple pie wafted from the kitchen.

  A young couple snuggled on the couch next to the huge fireplace on the far side of the room. She went up to the front desk, and her face split into a wide smile when she saw the man sitting behind the counter.

  “Riley?” He stood up, eyes wide. “Is that you?”

  She nodded, her heart too full to speak. Uncle Nate was older now, his face lined with wrinkles. He came from behind the desk and grabbed her off her feet into a bear hug.

  He set her on her feet, his expression sobered. “Your father is upstairs.”

  “How is he? He didn’t tell me much.”

  “He’s had flare-ups before, but this one has him down.”

  Ten years of regret shot through her. Her fingertips dug into the countertop, and she took deep breaths. I should have come back sooner. She’d seen her father once a year, but he’d come to her each time. She had refused to come back to Colorado after she’d left at age seventeen. “Is he going to be okay?” Even as she asked, she dreaded the answer.

  “Doc says he’s never seen anything like this. Wants him to go into Denver to see a specialist, but you know your father. He’s nothing if he’s not stubborn.”

  “I’m surprised he’s even here and not holed up in the cabin.”

  “I practically had to drag him here by the ears.”

  Riley chuckled at the image. “That’s my father.”

  “Go on,” Nate shooed her away. “Go see him. He’s in room four. I’ll bring in your luggage.” He grabbed a key. “We’re pretty booked right now, but he’s in a two-bedroom suite, so you can stay with him.”

  She kissed Uncle Nate on the cheek and squeezed his hand. Her uncle had been like a second father to her. It was only now that she realized how much she’d missed him. Missed being with family.

  At the foot of the grand staircase, she froze. Tyler Vargas stood on the bottom step, directly in her path. Though it had been ten years since she’d seen him, she knew him immediately. He wore a Cardinals wool jacket over a white t-shirt and jeans. He was twenty-seven now, and the teenager she’d been head-over-heels in love with was a smoking-hot man.

  He was grinning at her – she remembered those soft, demanding lips on hers – and his blue eyes twinkled.

  Just like that, ten years fell away and only the shock of being frozen in place kept her from automatically going into his arms.

  “You’re back.” His voice set every nerve on fire.

  She nodded, her brain cells inoperable.

  “Come here.” He closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. He smelled like wood smoke and outdoors and well… Tyler.

  Her arms remembered their way around his broad shoulders, and her body molded against him. It felt like coming home.

  She leaned her head against his chest, just under his chin, and closed her eyes. She felt his heart pounding the blood through his veins. One thing about being a shifter, at least for her, was that every sense was heightened.

  Then she remembered.

  She was still mad at him.

  She pushed back. “I have to go.”

  He released her, and she ran up the stairs straight to room four and took a moment to compose herself before she knocked on the door. She wasn’t prepared to see Tyler Vargas. Not today. Though she’d known it was a possibility, every time the thought occurred, her mind pushed it away – unable to process it.

  I’m here to see my father. That’s all.

  She knocked on the door.

  No answer.

  Her heart pounding dangerously in her chest, she cracked the door open. “Father?” When she heard rustling in the room, she pushed the door open and peeked inside.

  Her father sat in a chair in front of the window overlooking the mountains, a book in his hand. He looked up as she stepped into the room, and his face lit up.

  “Riley! Come here.”

  She forced a smile onto her face. “Father.” She put her arms around him, expecting the fierce hug he always gave her, but she could feel the weakness in his arms. She pulled back and studied his face. She saw past his façade to the pain beneath. He was hurting, but didn’t want her to know it. “Uncle Nate said you won’t go to the doctors in Denver.”

  He waved her off, and she sat across from him. “I don’t need them poking and prodding at me.”

  “But they could do something to help with the pain.”

  He shook his head. “You work in a hospital. You know that not everyone can be helped. They just want to run tests and experiment on me.” He stared out the window, his eyes downcast.

  “Father.”

  He looked back at Riley. “How are you coping with… everything in New York?”

  She inhaled sharply. She knew what he was asking. They’d had one conversation about her heritage. It had been the first Christmas day after she moved away. On
ly then, because of her obvious distress.

  Father, something is wrong with me.

  “It’s something I manage.” She shifted on occasion, in the privacy of her apartment, with the doors locked and the blinds drawn. Always with raw meat on the counter to tear into. It wasn’t much, but it kept the urges under control.

  It was different here. She could feel it already. That pull to run through the mountains, light of foot, all senses alert.

  She sensed other shifters here as well. It was something she hadn’t understood growing up. Only by living far away from this community, in New York, where shifters were rare, had she felt normal and under control.

  Even here, though, she was an anomaly among the bears and wolves and the occasional big cat. As far as she knew, there were no other white Bengal tiger shifters in America. Her mother had been from Bhutan and, unbeknownst to her father until after Riley was born, had been a shifter – a rare white Bengal tiger. She had passed the genes along to their daughter.

  “Well.” Father pulled his glasses from his face and set them on the table next to his book. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “It sounded important.”

  “I don’t think I have much longer.”

  Her father wasn’t prone to dramatic statements. “Let me drive you to the doctor in Denver.”

  He shook his head. “I want to spend my last days here, in this lodge nestled in the mountains. With my daughter, here at my side.”

  No. Every protective instinct kicked in. “They have treatments.”

  “Riley. Stop.”

  She closed her mouth and sat back in her chair, turning to the serene view of the mountains. Stubborn. Her father was stubborn, and it was going to be the death of him. Her hands were tied.

  “I didn’t call you here for medical care.” He squared his jaw. “Or to argue with you.”

  She returned her gaze to her father, took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. “I know, but you know how I feel.”

  “I know you haven’t been home in ten years, so you’re used to having access to the best of everything.”

  “That’s not why,” she muttered, but her father wasn’t deterred. He had things to say.

  “I asked you to come because I wanted you at my side. Perhaps even to help me heal.”

  Maybe he was right. Maybe having her near would help. At least for now. She’d let it go for now. Then she’d come back at him again. Her father wasn’t the only one in the family who carried the stubborn gene. “Of course. You’re right, Father.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  She had a week before she had to return to New York.

  Chapter Two

  Tyler Vargas lifted the ax and slammed it down, splitting the wood cleanly down the middle. The two pieces fell to the side of a respectable pile he had going.

  He might not be able to run anymore, but he could certainly use his strength to be useful. He shot a look of disdain at the wood splitter sitting a few yards away. Whoever had ordered that thing needed to have their head examined. Who used a wood splitter when they could wield an ax for an honest day’s work?

  He stood the next piece of wood on the stump, turning it to get the best shot for a clean cut.

  And why had Riley Harrison chosen to find her way back here the very same month he’d chosen to come back to the ranch? Everyone said she’d left the day after high school graduation and hadn’t set foot in Colorado since.

  Well, she wasn’t the only one. His exit had just been a little more quiet and unnoticed. She’d left without a job or a plan. He’d left a week later to play baseball, as planned. Nothing exciting or dramatic about doing what was expected.

  The thing he hadn’t planned on was going alone. Riley was supposed to go with him, though he hadn’t gotten around to telling her.

  Asking her. No one told Riley anything. He grinned as he split the log in half. That had been one of the things he loved about her. He always knew what she was thinking.

  He knew why she was home. He just hadn’t expected to see her. He figured the old man, Joel Harrison, would go stay with his daughter while he recuperated.

  He’d lost track a long time ago how many times he’d woken up in the early light of dawn with his thoughts on Riley and wet sheets. He’d come to think of her as the reason he almost always had clean sheets.

  As a result, he’d never had to hesitate to have a woman over in his bed. The only problem was, she was always the image in his head when he got to the short strokes.

  Then, when he was physically satisfied, he’d remember the other image that was burned into his brain. Riley Harrison getting up from their lovemaking, a satisfied smile on her face as she morphed into a tiger.

  He hadn’t been high, and he’d never been prone to delusions or hallucinations. Doubtless seeing the look of horror on his face, she’d morphed back into her human form.

  His only words to her then, moments after taking her virginity, had been “What the Hell?”

  She’d taken off running back to her father’s cabin. He hadn’t had the clarity of mind to go after her.

  That had been the last time he’d seen her.

  Fast forward to today. He now knew about shifters. In fact, he had grown up among them and lived among them now. They were good people. Harmless. Good for the environment.

  He took the wood he’d cut and stacked it neatly into a growing pile in front of the wood splitter. His goal was to hide the atrocity behind a mountain of hand-split wood.

  Now he had to figure out what he was going to do about Riley Harrison.

  The strenuous work hadn’t done anything to dull the pull he felt toward her.

  Chapter Three

  As Riley unpacked her suitcase, her gaze strayed to the window with every trip she made from the suitcase on the bed to the bureau and to the closet.

  What was Tyler Vargas doing here? Last she’d heard, he’d just been picked up by the Cardinals after years playing for the minors. She’d even seen his name batted around a few times over the years when she’d just happened to be checking out the sports section.

  Not that she had any particular interest in baseball.

  He’d had some nerve hugging her like that. Like nothing had happened. Like ten years hadn’t passed without a word from him.

  She’d never forgotten the look of horror on his face after she’d shifted. She’d felt safe and loved with him after they’d made love for the first time that night. She’d wanted to share that secret part of her that no one else knew about.

  Instead, she’d been shamed. She’d tugged on her clothes while holding back the tears. The tears had come, though. She’d been blinded by them as she raced home.

  Never again. Never again had she let anyone know about her inner white Bengal tiger, much less shown it to anyone.

  It was one-trial learning for her. She’d left the next day. She’d been accepted to a university in Boston. Instead of waiting for September, she’d left early – the end of May. After unsuccessfully trying to talk her out of it, her father had gone with her. He’d known something was wrong, but she never told him.

  She froze as she saw him walking toward the house. Just seeing him set every nerve on fire. Tyler Vargas had grown up nicely. If she’d thought he couldn’t get any hotter at seventeen, she had a lot to learn. He was the same height; just over six feet. Wearing flats, like today, she could tuck her head just beneath his chin. He was toned and filled out nicely. His shoulders were broad and his stomach firm.

  But even more than his toned body, she was drawn to his eyes. When he smiled, his smile reached his eyes. Eyes that now had little lines creasing out at the edges. She sighed. And then there were his perfect white teeth beneath those lips that she knew could drive her crazy.

  He walked toward the house with purpose, sending her heart rate into a danger zone. She could walk downstairs and run right into him.

  Back into his arms.

  No. I’m here to tend to my father, not to hook up with an old b
oyfriend.

  Especially not the boyfriend who had haunted her dreams for the last ten years.

  She slammed her suitcase shut along that part of her brain that lusted after Tyler Vargas, high school baseball star, class president, and star of her nighttime fantasies.

  Her resolve lasted all of about five minutes. The five minutes it took for that object of her nocturnal fantasies and daytime anguish to knock on her door.

  He stood there, looking at her with those eyes, whose intensity would cause any girl to squirm with every fiber of her being shooting toward that area between her legs. He had one hand on the door casing, the other in his back pocket. A lock of his short, dark hair fell across his forehead. He hadn’t shaved today. He was wearing Levis with a rip in the knee and an untucked blue flannel shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes.

  She turned and walked back toward her closet.

  He followed her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She turned and shot a look that she hoped would pass as shooting daggers toward him. “Sorry for what?” She unfolded a sweater, refolded it, and placed it back on the shelf. Stay calm.

  “Sorry for everything. That night. Not knowing what to do. Not finding you… since.”

  “Ha.” She kept her head turned away. She couldn’t let him see the effect his words had on her. “You can’t just waltz in here and expect to fix everything by saying you’re sorry.”

  “What then? What will it take?”

  She had no clue. He was standing too close. Her room was too close. The lodge was too close. Even the ranch. “It’s too late.” She spat, inadvertently letting some of the hurt and pain seep into her words.