There was no other warning, only that weird sense the other gave him, but he knew something was wrong. He sprinted through the spacious hall to the connecting door that led from the business wing to the main part of the house, his heart pounding.
He could hear Kyle screaming, Emma's usually calm voice raised and another woman shrieking. With a sinking heart, he recognized the other woman's vicious voice. For one moment he was disoriented, thrown back in time to the small, helpless child he'd been. The scars on his thigh throbbed in tune to his pounding pulse.
"Emma?" He called her name as he took the stairs two at a time, leaping, using his leopard's agility to clear the banister when he was close to the top.
He hit the hallway floor running, streaking fast, fear clogging his throat. Cathy Bannaconni was more than capable of harming Emma. She would immediately sense Emma's vulnerability and go for the jugular, battering her emotionally and physically. Worse, Emma might admit that the child she was carrying was Andrew's, and everything he planned could be lost.
"You money-hungry, conniving little whore, you will never be mistress here. You're nothing. An opportunist. Some little tart who lost her husband and hops in bed with my son the next day to trap him with your mongrel of a child. Give me my grandson immediately or I'll have you thrown out on your whoring ass."
As Jake entered the nursery, he could see Emma, pale and defiant, her chin up, aquamarine eyes shimmering with fire, as she held Kyle to her with a protective fury. Blood surged to his cock, heated, unexpected, inappropriate. She looked glorious, a spitting wildcat protecting her cub, quite capable of biting off a hand if it came too close.
"Don't you touch him," Emma said. "Jake's down in his office and he can decide whether or not you're going to take Kyle out of the house. No one takes him without Jake's permission, not even you. And you don't get to come into our home and bully our nurse or our cook, and you certainly don't drag the baby out of his crib when he's asleep and scare him like that. I don't care who you are."
"Your nurse?" Cathy screamed. "Nothing in this house is yours and it never will be." She stepped closer, thrusting her twisted, angry face close to Emma's. "You can count on that. I'll see you in hell before I ever see such a tramp attached to my family."
"Cathy." Jake said her name, his voice low, rumbling with menace.
Both women whirled to face him. Instantly the room went silent. Kyle abruptly stopped crying, as if the sound of Jake's voice reassured him. Emma dropped her face protectively over the baby, but not before Jake saw the sudden sheen of tears. He walked to her, breathing deep, stilling the raging monster rising to the surface in a fury of temper, wanting to rend and tear and destroy. Very gently he rested his hands on Emma's shoulders, deliberately dropping a kiss on top of her head.
"Take Kyle and go to your room, Emma. Let me deal with this person."
"Jake!" Cathy wailed his name. "This--your mistress was so rude to me."
Emma shook her head. "Jake, I wasn't."
"Go, honey." He stroked a hand down the length of her hair. "You aren't supposed to be out of bed. Take Kyle. He doesn't need to be in here."
Emma didn't look at Cathy, but caught up Kyle's favorite blanket and walked out, her bare feet padding down the hall toward her room.
Jake took another calming breath and let it out. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see my grandson." Cathy's eyes narrowed.
"And I've heard the rumors; we all have. I can see that nothing's changed. You're still the same, Jake. Irresponsible and foolish. You're a womanizer and you don't seem to realize that there are women who are clever and manipulative who will trap you in any way that they can. I'm your mother--"
"Get out." He bit out the words, his fingers curling involuntarily, knuckles aching, bones cracking. He felt sharpened claws ripping into the palm of his hand, tearing at his own flesh. He opened his hands and flexed, holding the rapidly forming paws out away from his body where she could see the long, wicked claws protruding from his fingers as the change threatened to consume him. "Get out now." The scent of something wild, something feral, permeated the room.
Cathy backed away from him, stinking of fear. He could hear her heart racing, beckoning the predator. She gasped as she saw Jake's eyes go completely golden, the orbs darkening into the focused stare of the leopard. She turned and ran, a small wail of absolute terror escaping. She pushed past the nurse who stood at the foot of the stairs and bolted out the front door.
Jake managed to make it to the nursery door, slamming it closed, leaning against it as the change swept through him, clothes ripping at the seams, his back bending, spine stretching, bones popping. He dropped to all fours, breathing deep, trying to hold back the tidal wave of fury consuming him. Other than his first change, the leopard had only come out when he summoned him. But the animal was furious now, clawing for freedom, determined to hunt the enemy.
He ducked his head, breathing hard, panting, his sides heaving as his skin itched and a wave of fur slid over his back and down his legs and spine. His mouth filled with teeth, and his knuckles turned, curling under, the razor-sharp claws tearing long strips in the floor as he dug deep and raked, desperate to hold back the beast.
"Jake?" Emma's voice called out to him. A breath of air, fresh and clean, driving the stench of his enemy from his nostrils.
He drew her into his lungs, into his mind, shaking with the effort to keep the leopard under control. Slowly--too slowly--his human form reasserted itself. "I'll be right there," he called when he could speak. His voice sounded different, rumbling with a velvet growl, even to his own ears.
He sank back against the door and dropped his face into his hands. He scented blood, and the leopard tried to come out again. He pushed back hard against the door, just in case, forcing the leopard--and himself--back under control. Very slowly, he dragged himself to his feet. His shirt was in tatters, but his jeans were intact. There was little he could do for the floor. He wiped his face with the remains of his shirt and was surprised when he found smears of blood. Curious, he turned his hands over. His claws had burst from his fingers and torn his palms when he'd made a fist.
"Tell me you're all right," Emma insisted.
He took another breath and let it out, realizing that he wanted to be with Emma and Kyle more than he wanted to disappear in the change, to run free of his past in his other form, to wreak vengeance on his enemies. Jake didn't let himself think too hard about why. He stood up and went to them just as he was, tattered shirt, bloody hands and bare feet.
Emma gasped when she saw him, standing immediately, putting Kyle on the bed while she reached for him. "What happened? What did she do to you?"
He caught her and pulled her tight against him, holding her close, breathing her in, allowing the memories to recede until he could push the door shut on them. He caught her face in his hands and pressed kisses along her eyes, feathered more down her chin, barely resisting her upturned mouth--that fantasy mouth. His heart beat too loud and he feared she would push him away, but she didn't. Instead she slid her arms around his waist and she rested her face against his chest, just letting him hold her.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "She was angry at me, not you."
"She's evil," Jake said. "Thank you for not letting her touch my son." Very gent
ly, he put Emma aside, not trusting himself in his present unfamiliar state. He felt vulnerable and shaky. He didn't trust his temper, the leopard, or his need of her. Already his body was responding to the softness of hers, to her scent and the silk of her hair. He couldn't afford to blow everything he'd done by letting her see how she affected him.
He lifted Kyle into his arms and held the boy close. "She kept you safe, just like she said she would," he murmured, astonished that it was true. Emma. She wielded some kind of magic he didn't understand. His heart felt soft and alien as he looked down at his son. "She kept you safe," he repeated and kissed the little forehead. Jake's entire body trembled. He actually felt weak.
"Jake." Emma's voice was soft. "Sit down. I want to look at your hands."
He looked at her over the top of the baby's head. She looked small and fragile, so pale and thin, without makeup, her wealth of hair curling in every direction, but she was made of steel. "You're an amazing woman, Emma."
"You need to sit down, Jake," Emma coaxed softly.
She tugged at his arm, her gaze searching his face. For the first time she realized Jake Bannaconni--the man with everything, the man who could buy and sell the world--needed someone. Needed her. For all his gruff ways and arrogant orders, he had no idea how to feel emotion, and when his feelings overwhelmed him, like now, he was lost, or he turned to anger or ran from it. She didn't think anyone needed help quite as much as Jake did. Right now he was looking at his son with a stunned, confused expression, as if he never expected to love the boy. She could have told him that first day, when he'd fumbled to change his diaper, that love grew in spite of a person, and that someday Kyle would take over his life.