Sheltered by the Millionaire by Catherine Mann Read Free Book Online

her owner passed away, the extended family had dumped their mother’s beloved pet at the shelter. Sheba had been freaked out and terrified ever since. She needed a home environment, even a foster setting, until an adopter could be found. Skittles, an orange tabby stray, had been found at the shopping mall with no name tag, no microchip and no one to claim her. If she went much longer without a home setting, Megan feared Skittles would turn feral. And the third of the cranky passengers, Sebastian, was a gorgeous, very huge Maine Coon cat that desperately needed more space to move around than the shelter could offer.
    Provided the Colorado group was as wonderful in person as her contact and the vet indicated, by evening the twelve cats would be with a rescue that only operated with foster homes until adoptive homes were found. No more shelter life for them.
    She rested a hand on top of a crate, exhaustion from the past month seeping through her. Maybe now that she had some help in sight, her body was finally relaxing enough to let all those extra hours catch up with her. She still could hardly believe this was happening—and thanks to Whit Daltry, of all people. The last man she would have expected to go the extra mile for her.
    But the very man who’d done more than that for her when he’d helped her reach Evie after the tornado.
    Megan stole a quick glance to check on her daughter, currently sprawled out asleep on one of the leather sofas. They’d had to get up early to ready the cats at the shelter. Evie had insisted on wearing a cowgirl outfit today—with the ever present tiara, of course.
    Footsteps sounded outside on the metal stairs, and a second later Whit filled the hatch. He looked Texas-awesome, with broad shoulders—as if Texas ever did anything half way. He wore a chambray button-down with the sleeves rolled up. And his jeans—Lord help her. The well-washed denim fit him just right. Her mouth watered. He ducked and pulled off his hat to clear the hatch on his way inside.
    “Everything’s a go outside whenever you and Evie are ready to buckle in.” His boots thudded against the carpeted floor as he walked to Megan and rested a hand on her shoulder.
    Static sparked through her so tangibly she could almost believe crackles filled and lit the air. Whit’s clean soap scent brought to mind the image of a shared morning shower, a notion far too intimate to entertain, especially when they had to spend the next two days in close confines. She eased away from him under the guise of flipping the page on her clipboard. Except it was already the last page so she looked too obvious.
    Quickly, she flipped all the papers back into place.
    Whit stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “We might as well talk about it.”
    “Talk about what?” How she couldn’t peel her eyes off his strong jaw? Could barely suppress the urge to step closer and brush her cheek along the fresh-shaven texture of his face? She was having a hard time remembering why she had to stay away from this man.
    “When you kissed me.”
    “Shhhh!” she whispered urgently. “Do you want someone—Evie—to hear?” Her daughter was a great big reason she needed to tread warily with any man she let into their lives.
    He stepped closer. “Okay, how’s this?”
    His voice rumbled over her like the vibration of quiet thunder in a summer rain. Desire pooled low in her belly, her breasts tingling and tightening as if the first drops of that summer storm were caressing her bare skin.
    Damn. She was in deep trouble here.
    She clutched the clipboard to her chest. “I didn’t kiss you that day. Not exactly.”
    “I remember the day well. Your lips on mine. That’s a kiss,” he bantered with a devilish glint in his eyes. “But just so that we’re clear, none of this trip today is contingent on there being another kiss.”
    “I meant to kiss your cheek as...a thanks.” A mind-melting, toe-curling thanks. “You’re the one who turned your face and