Page 3 of Venice Heat (Urban Heat 2)

She sighed and moved away from him. All of a sudden she wanted to be gone, like, yesterday. “Yes, Venice.”

“Ah, Italy is nice.”

“No, Venice, California.”

Her father frowned. “Shae, you know I can arrange for you to go anywhere in the world.”

“No, Dad, I got this. I’m going to Venice Beach. As close as it is, I haven’t been there, and frankly, since it’s practically in our backyard, it’s not likely we had any tips of shifters in the area that we haven’t already taken care of.”

“Hm, you’re probably right.” He pulled out his wallet. “Do you need any money?”

She laughed despite her dark mood. “Seriously? Dad, I have more than I know what to do with half the time. No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He frowned, seeming disappointed he couldn’t help her in that way. She knew he enjoyed giving to his kids. Maybe she should have taken cash to make him feel better. After all, she’d just made him relive the nightmare of finding her mother’s body. He really was a good man.

“Okay, sweetheart, have fun, and keep in touch.”

“Of course. Thanks, Dad.” She walked over and kissed his cheek, then headed up to her room. By tomorrow afternoon, she would be in Venice.

* * * *

Shae spared a quick glance at the dash to check the time. She was almost an hour and a half late for meeting her rental agent and hoped he hadn’t left yet. Her last-minute arrangements meant she’d had to settle for a place less extravagant than she’d wanted. While the fantasy of snagging a place over in the Hollywood Hills sounded great, the narrow Venice street she now navigated her car along so did not fit the bill. The tiny square bungalow with pea-green walls, brown wood door, and small deck might be cute, but could she stand being surrounded so closely with her neighbors? A Jeep parked out front in the hiccup of a parking space made her breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn’t left. She rolled to a stop, threw the car into park, and turned off the engine. While she struggled with two big luggage bags, the front door opened, and a man appeared in the entryway. For a moment, Shae forgot everything except Eiji Tanaka. Could any man be hotter with his cold demeanor reflected in those almost-black eyes? His height took her by surprise, being a good few inches over six feet, if she had to guess, and defined biceps bulging beneath a short-sleeved shirt said the man worked out. Not having a huge build, he wasn’t slender as she’d expected either. Eiji wasn’t a lot of things—primary being happy.

“You are late,” he snapped, and Shae marveled at his accent, heavy as if he’d just stepped off a plane from Tokyo.

“Sorry about that. I hit traffic,” she prattled as she righted one of her bags, which had fallen over. “My GPS said two hours, but it lied. I’m Shae Jones.” She didn’t know what had possessed her to use her mother’s maiden name when she reserved the house, other than wanting to step out of her normal life and just have some fun. The Keith name was well-known in the underworld. Shifters avoided it, and the

few humans privy to their existence knew they could count on Shae and her family to handle any issues.

Her smile hadn’t faltered until she reached the three steps leading onto the porch, and she realized Eiji had no intention of helping her. All her charitable thoughts toward him flew away with her temper. “You must be Ed-jie Tanaka,” she simpered and deliberately butchered his name. “Can you give me a hand?”

This time she got a rise. He stirred from his post and walked down the steps with deliberate movements. A whiff of his soap and natural male scent assaulted Shae’s nose, and she licked her lips and swallowed, all of a sudden hot for reasons other than the temperature. She wrapped men around her little finger for a living, and not many got her blood pumping without a little effort on their part. Yet this one had her going even while being a jerk.

He nabbed both bags from her hands and raised them as if they were feathers. “It’s Eiji—Ay-Jee!” he emphasized.

She widened her eyes and just smiled as if that’s what she’d said. Any other person would have at least scowled, but Mr. Statue simply snapped the words and disappeared inside the house, leaving her feeling stupid.

“Whatever,” she muttered and followed him.

The interior of the place she’d rented was small, but much nicer than its outside. Shiny hardwood floors, contemporary furniture, and simple pictures on the walls of animals such as zebras and lions decorated the square living room. What impressed her was the wide fireplace, accented with a dark wood mantel and the huge flat-screen TV above it, although she didn’t have any intention of sitting at home much using either. The kitchen sat directly off the living room, a strip of space designed for efficiency of use. Around the corner from the kitchen, she found a small two-seater eating area and, off from that, the first bedroom. After noting a private bathroom in it, she turned back to Eiji.

“I like your accent. Japan, right? How long have you been in America?”

Something flashed in his eyes, but she couldn’t identify the emotion before it disappeared. “Yes, Tokyo. Few months. Is the house acceptable?”

“Wow, you’re a great conversationalist.” She smiled and leaned against the table, head tilted. “So what’s fun to do in this town? Any hot spots you can suggest? Hell, maybe you can show me around.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t appear to be. He strode away from her toward the kitchen and stopped at the counter. From his pocket, he pulled out an envelope and set it on the counter. “Your keys and my number if you have a problem.”

Well, that was that. She didn’t intend to keep chasing after him. There must be hundreds of hot guys in Venice right that second, and she could have a good time with any number of them. Shae had never failed to find the best parties wherever she went. All she needed to do was get out there, and Eiji Tanaka could kiss her ass. She snatched the envelope from the counter and turned on her heel. Her luggage sat nearby, so she bent to grab one to take into the bedroom, leaving the bastard of a landlord where he stood.

Chapter Two

Eiji watched Shae laugh and flirt from where he stood against the wall. He held a drink in his hand, but he hadn’t yet taken a sip. Instead he wanted to remain alert because there was no doubt in his mind that the beautiful Shae Jones could not know the man she displayed an indecent amount of her cleavage to was, in fact, a wolf shifter. Eiji had pegged him from the first moment he strolled into the bar. He had paused just inside the door to get a lay of the place, taking in the two wolves buying drinks, one female, one male, the three additional men surrounding their leader at one of the tables, and the very human man at the pool table who eyed Shae with interest from the second she walked in the door.

So she wouldn’t turn and see he’d been following her, he’d left the entrance and found an unoccupied spot in a corner—well, almost unoccupied if he managed to ignore the couple making out. This was nothing new to him, since he’d seen plenty in Tokyo, but it wasn’t where he liked to spend his free nights either. Earlier, he’d told himself to forget about her and wipe Shae from his mind, but that turned out to be impossible.

When she bent to grab her bag back at his house, his shaft had tightened. He’d scarcely held on to his control with her inches away from him. Her scent had filled his nostrils and sharpened the teeth in his mouth. He felt his wolf rising to the surface, eager to taste her, to touch and take her. From the moment she stepped out of the car, he knew desire he’d never experienced before, a white-hot need to claim a woman. All he could do at the time was fold his arms over his chest, and it had pissed her off. The stance had kept him from tossing her on the hood of her car and slaking his lust with her beautiful mocha body.

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