"Silly man." She pushed at him. "I love keeping you happy."
Just her response was enough to send a surge of heat through his body. Leopards often could hear lies, and Isabeau never lied to him. She loved attending his body and she lavished him with her attention.
She laughed softly, feeling his erection thickening, growing harder as he gently pushed deeper into her. His fingers tightened on her hips as he lifted his head to the sky. The wind shifted just a little and Conner's head snapped around, his eyes blazing as he scanned the tree line and canopy. Very slowly, he straightened, still on his knees, his body buried tight in hers. Deep inside his leopard snarled and raked, fury bursting through him.
He inhaled deeply and scented--enemy. It was a brief, barely there scent that disappeared almost immediately, as if the male leopard had shifted position with the wind. There was no warning from the canopy, nothing to indicate there was an enemy close, but Conner knew he wasn't mistaken--he had scented another male leopard briefly. He remained still, his gaze sweeping the surrounding forest.
"Is something wrong?" Isabeau asked, recognizing the stillness in him. She started to turn her head, but he dug his fingers into her hips and surged forward, sending ripples of aftershocks spreading through her.
"Don't move. Just look at me."
"Oh my God," she whispered. "Is someone watching us?" She shivered, suddenly frightened. The rain forest had never scared her, yet now shadows seemed to be lurking behind every tree.
"He's out there. Watching us."
She didn't have to ask who "he" was. Ottila Zorba. "How long has he been there?"
"I have no idea. We're going inside. I want you to lock yourself in. You know how to shoot. I'll call for backup and then I'm going to shift and hunt him."
She wanted to shake her head, afraid for him. He pulled away from her and moved his body to block Ottila's view of her while he helped her up and yanked open the door, nearly shoving her inside.
Ottila hadn't cut the communication off, probably not wanting to tip them to his presence. Conner made the call to Rio and then began to move through the cabin, preparing to leave her.
"Wait for Rio, Conner," Isabeau cautioned. "There's something about him that's just plain scary. I'll feel better if you wait."
His leopard wouldn't let him. He doubted if the man would. She had no idea how much nature and instincts played a part in their lives, dominating even good sense at times. His cat raged, a black, jealous haze spreading through his mind. He dragged weapons out and showed each to her, taping one beneath the tabletop, putting another in a drawer, hiding four guns and two knives for her.
"He'll be too busy trying to kill you," Isabeau pointed out. "He doesn't want to kill me, but he wants you dead. If that's really him--and we don't know for certain . . ."
"It's him," Conner said with certainty. "My cat knows it's him. Lock the doors, Isabeau. Stay inside and keep the lights out. I'll call out when I return, otherwise you shoot anything that tries to get in."
She clung to him. "Please just listen to me this once. It's you he's after. He wants you dead. He wants you to go into the forest after him. Otherwise, why tip you off to his presence?"
"No one can predict the wind shifting like that. He was caught and he's probably halfway to the next village by now, running like a rabbit."
She knew better, knew Ottila had no intention of running. Her heart pounded with fear for Conner. He was supremely confident, but he hadn't actually met Ottila as she had. The rogue leopard changed his spots continually, and she had a feeling he was hiding something.
Conner gently put her from him, leaned down and kissed her just once. Then he lifted the back window and shifted as he dove through. He disappeared almost at once into the shadows. Isabeau closed and locked the window, and then drew the shutters, making certain all of them were in place and no one would be able to come through a window.
With shaking hands, Isabeau dressed, putting on her clothes like armor. Layers of them. Underwear, jeans, heavy socks, a T-shirt, before wrapping herself in Conner's sweater. She sat down to wait, her heart beating fast and hard and the taste of fear in her mouth. She had no idea how long she actually sat there, but she realized tears blurred her vision. She couldn't just sit still. She paced for a while and finally opened the shutters overlooking the front porch and stood staring out, trying to see what was happening in the rain forest. She could hear the sounds of the insects and night creatures--the forest had its own music at night, but there was no disruption, no fight between leopards and no warning from the animals that leopards were in the vicinity.
By now, she consoled herself, Rio would have joined Conner in the search. And maybe he was wrong. Maybe he hadn't really caught the scent of a male leopard--although she didn't really believe that.
After a time she realized how hopeless that task was of looking into the rain forest, straining her eyes when there was nothing to see, so she carefully closed and locked the shutters again before she put the kettle on. Tea might combat the shocky way she was feeling. At least the ritual of making tea kept her busy. Once the water had boiled, she poured it into the small pot over the tea leaves and placed a towel over it to steep. She needed something to revive her. There was no way to relax, not with Conner in danger.
She turned to go back to the window. Her heart jumped. Began to pound. Fear made her mouth go dry. Ottila Zorba stood not ten feet from her, his eyes glowing in the darkness, his stare fixed on her as if she was his prey. He'd obviously just shifted. She had no idea how long he'd been there, but his stark naked body, all roped muscle and obvious strength, was very aroused.
18
OTTILA Zorba cocked his head to one side and inhaled, drawing Isabeau's fragrance deep into his lungs. "He made certain to leave his scent all over you," he greeted.
Isabeau wrapped Conner's sweater closer around her body for protection. "What do you want?"
His green-yellow eyes drifted over her from head to toe. "You left your mark on me."
She bit her lip hard. "I wasn't raised with the leopard people. I didn't know what was happening to me."
"Your cat knew and she wanted me."
Isabeau gasped. That couldn't be true. Conner was her mate. She knew he was. She shook her head in denial. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry for that, but you deliberately provoked me. You knew I didn't know what it meant."
He shrugged and took a step toward her.
"Don't." Isabeau retreated, moving toward the table where the gun waited. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you give me no other choice."
He smiled, baring his leopard's canines, and held a weapon up. "Are you looking for this? You stared out into the night and all the while I prowled the room, removing your weapons under your nose."
Her heart jumped painfully. Who could do that? She'd heard of leopards dragging victims out of their homes before even those sitting beside them knew what had happened, but she couldn't conceive of anyone being that stealthy. She glanced toward the door, trying to judge the distance. To make it easier, she took another step toward the table, to keep it between them. As she figured, he stepped around toward the other side, giving her that extra step or two.
Isabeau ran for the door. She ran like a human, he leapt like a leopard, clearing the table and landing right beside her as her fingers twisted the lock. She tried to yank open the door, but he slammed it shut with a vicious slap of his palm, trapping her body between his and the wood. She cried out, shaking, feeling small and lost against his enormous strength.
"Ssh, don't scream. Just stay calm," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
His arms went around her and Isabeau shuddered, keeping her head down, afraid of what he might do.
"Please," she said softly. "What I did was an accident."
"Ssh." He kept her upright with his strength, when she was trembling, her legs rubbery. "Get yourself a cup of tea and sit across the room, away from the table." He indicated a chair. "Put sugar in your tea. It will h
elp."
His voice was steady. Pleasant even. And that somehow made it worse, but when he removed his hands, she could at least breathe again. She forced herself to walk to the counter where the tea was steeping.
Isabeau glanced over her shoulder, trying to pretend he was a guest. "Would you like a cup as well?"
His smile was all male amusement. "I don't think it's a good idea to put temptation in your path. You would try to throw boiling water at me and then I'd have to retaliate and you'd get hurt. I don't want that and I don't think you do either."
Isabeau concentrated on keeping her hands from shaking as she fixed herself a cup of tea. She waited until she sipped at it before walking to the chair he'd indicated and sitting in it rather gingerly. Had Conner put a knife beneath the cushions? He told her not to panic and she was definitely on the verge of panicking. She made herself take another swallow of the hot liquid and breathe.
"Why are you here?" Her voice was back under control and she let herself feel triumphant. One small victory at a time.
"To give you a chance to come with me. Right now. Before anyone dies. Come away with me. You don't need anything but the clothes on your back. I've got money. Everything Imelda paid me was in cash." He smirked. "Between what Suma and I took from both Sobre and Cortez, we'll be able to go anywhere."
His offer was the last thing she expected. He seemed so reasonable. He didn't move toward her, which helped her maintain her composure.
"Even if I left a note trying to convince them that I went voluntarily with you, they'd come after us," she said. "You know that."
He shrugged, and it was impossible not to see the ropes of defined muscle ripple across his chest, arms and belly.
"So really, you know you'd still have to kill him. I wouldn't be saving his life by going with you, only causing him distress." She tilted her head and regarded him steadily over the top of her teacup. "I'm in love with him."
"You'll get over that in time." His gaze didn't leave her face. "If you come voluntarily, I'll give you a little time to forget him. Your cat will help by accepting me."
She could see he thought he was making a huge concession to her. It was frightening, walking a tightrope, trying to placate him, stall him and keep from triggering a violent outburst. He was too controlled and she was terrified of him. She moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue and set her cup aside, dropping her hands to her sides on the pretext of hiding her trembling fingers. She knew he caught the shaking, he was too focused on her not to, but she had to find a way to check the cushions.
He shook his head and sprang again, the leap taking him to the side of her chair. "I told you, I removed the weapons. The knife was down the right side. Do you think I'm stupid?" There was an edge to his voice.
"No. But I'm very scared," she admitted, shifting a little from him as she tried to find the right words to reach him.
His hand anchored in her hair, preventing her from moving even an inch from him. "This is your chance to save him, Isabeau. I'm offering it once because it will be more difficult for you to forgive me if I kill him, but I will."
His face was inches from hers, a snarling mask of determination and absolute confidence. The lines in his face were cut deep, a tough man with much experience. Looking into his eyes, she knew she'd been right about him: He'd been the brains, the one running Suma, yet he'd hidden it well. He didn't need the accolades. He wasn't hurting her, but the threat was there. In fact, the pads of his fingers were rubbing strands of her hair back and forth as if savoring the feel.
"Go take a shower," he said abruptly. "If you argue with me or you put anything of his on, I'll scrub you myself and you're not going to like it much. Do it fast. I want you back out here in five minutes smelling like you and not him."
He tugged on her hair just enough that she rose and rushed out of the room. He followed her at a more leisurely pace. She was stripping off her bra when he sauntered in and she stopped abruptly, shaking her head. "I'm not taking my clothes off in front of you."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I watched you letting him fuck you in the forest and then again on the porch. I'm well aware of what your body looks like. I want his scent gone. Now. I'll scrub you down myself if you don't move. You've got four minutes now."
She told herself she was leopard and there was no modesty in that world. She didn't want to provoke him into showering with her and possibly raping her. If she could, she would stall enough to allow Rio and Conner to pick up his trail and realize he'd circled back to the cabin. She wanted to keep her back to him as she stripped, but she needed to see him. Because if he moved to touch her--she wasn't going down without a fight.
She got under the water, her gaze on his, fixed and defiant, daring him to try to come near her as she soaped off under his intense scrutiny. He reached for the water at the same time she did, his fingers brushing hers, and she jerked her hands back, both coming up defensively.
That seemed to amuse him. He handed her a towel. "Do you really think you can fight me and win? Don't be silly. I'm not a man who would deliberately hit a woman. There has to be a very good reason."
"Why in the world did you ever work for Imelda Cortez, let alone kidnap children for her?" she asked, rubbing the water--and Conner's scent--as best she could from her skin. Keep him talking and calm, she reminded herself. Be interested in him.
She pushed past him and found her backpack, jerking out a pair of jeans and yanking them on quickly. She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You sold out your own people."
He watched her with the unblinking eyes of a cat. "They aren't my people. They threw me out. I owe them no loyalty."
She frowned as she pulled a T-shirt on and turned to face him, doing her best to look a little sympathetic. "Why would they do that?" She was interested, that part wasn't a lie. She hoped she was staying close to the truth. She'd admitted she was scared of him. Maybe he'd make allowances.
He shrugged, but for the first time a ripple of emotion crossed his face. "Our laws are archaic and make no sense. If a hunter kills one of us in leopard form--even though it's against the law of man--we're to just allow them to get away with it. One killed my baby brother. I hunted him down and killed him. The elders called it murder and banished me. In other words, I'm dead to the village. I figure if I'm dead to them, they are to me and I owe them no loyalty."
"How terrible." And she meant it. If a family felt there was no justice in a killing, how did they go on? "That still doesn't explain someone as evil as Imelda Cortez and why you would choose to reveal your species to her."
He stepped back to allow her to proceed him through the door into the next room. "Cortez offered me a living and I took her up on it. Eventually I knew I'd kill her, so what the hell difference does it make what she knows? She can't prove it and if she tells anyone, they'll think she's insane--which she is. I can smell it on her."
She swallowed fear. He said it so casually. Eventually I knew I'd kill her. "Is that what you're going to do to me eventually? Kill me when you get tired of me?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't work that way." He caught her wrist, jerking her around, forcing her palm to circle the hard length of him, his fingers fisting tight around hers. "You put this there. I go to bed like this and get up like this. It isn't going to go away until we're together. And I imagine it will be back often, every bit as painful."
She stomped as hard as she could on his instep and spun, slamming her elbow into his ribs, continuing around as he freed her hand, aiming a back-fist at his face. He was already on her, taking her to the floor, dropping hard so that she slammed into the wood, cracking her head, his superior weight on top of her. She saw stars, and had to fight to keep from passing out. Struggling wildly, she tried to throw him off. He drove a knee into the small of her back and pinned her wrists together, his strength enormous. She lay crushed beneath him, tears burning in her eyes and throat.
"You don't know much about men, do you, Isabeau," he said softly. "Some men get
turned on by a woman fighting him. Lie quietly. Just take a breath. I said I wouldn't hurt you if possible, and I meant it."
She let herself weep for a moment before making an effort to pull herself back together. His free hand stroked her hair as if soothing her. When the tension drained out of her, he got off her and pulled her to her feet, forcing her across the room to the same chair. Once she was seated in the chair, he put both hands on the arms of the chair and bent his face close to hers.
She gathered herself. Head-butting might work. Or punching him hard right in the middle of that very large erection.
His eyes met hers and he shook his head slowly. "The first time, I let it go because you're frightened of me. But you attack me again and I'll retaliate."
She blinked up at him, one hand going defensively to her throat. "Today's my wedding day," she admitted. "I married him."
His expression didn't change. "I don't really give a damn. You knew better, or at least you should have."
She studied his face, that strong, masculine face. She needed to keep him talking because it was the only defense she had. The sound of their voices, the passage of time. Conner had to come back soon.
She drew in her breath. "Did you tell Imelda about all of us being leopard?"
"Why would I?" He picked up her teacup and moved across the floor to the teapot.
Isabeau covered her sigh of relief with a small throat clearing. He was so big. Intimidating. He seemed invincible to her. And where was Conner? Surely he must have unraveled Ottila's trail and should be back.
"Imelda should never have taken those kids. I tried to tell her, but she likes being the boss. I knew Adan would never sit still for it. She's so arrogant she doesn't listen to her advisors, not even her security advisors."
"So you've left her on her own."
From the small pack he carried around his neck, he drew a small vial and, thumbing it open, poured it into the cup of tea right in front of her. Her entire body tightened up. She half rose, but he gave her a stern look and she subsided.
"I'm not drinking that."
"Then we'll do it the hard way and pour it down your throat. It really is all the same to me, Isabeau."