you?” He dragged her onto her toes. “Answer me, now, before someone gets killed.”
3
ISABEAU swallowed hard, shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear, even as she fought him, more instinctive than wanting free. “I swear, it was just Adan and me who came to see you, no one else.”
Conner responded by dragging her away from the windows and into the shelter of a small alcove where anyone looking in wouldn’t be able to see her. He gave a series of chuffing sounds, warning the others that whoever was approaching the cabin had not come with Isabeau’s knowledge.
Isabeau’s heart was pounding loud enough for him to hear, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. He held her still, ignoring the heel drumming into his shin. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he pressed his lips against her ear. “You’d better be telling the truth, because whoever is out there will be hunted.”
She forced herself to stop struggling, but her body remained tense, on the verge of flight. “I swear to you, Adan and I came alone.”
“Who knew you were trying to hire a rescue team?” Her scent was driving him insane. Her body was soft and lush and he remembered every curve, every secret hollow. It was difficult to keep from nuzzling her throat. As it was, his head dipped low and found the soft joining of her neck and shoulder.
“Adan’s wife. And he went to the grandfather of the other children, but no one else. Cortez pays spies. She has them everywhere. We had to be careful. We didn’t even meet in the open. Adan went off for a while trying to track you down, but I don’t know if he talked to anyone else.”
Rio would be questioning Adan, and the tribal elder was too savvy to lie to a leopard. “You’ll be fine, Isabeau. Nothing will happen to you with all of us around. They’ll take care of it.” But he felt caged. He didn’t like the walls surrounding him. He needed to be out where he felt he could remove any threat to her. “Just relax.”
Isabeau took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. There was no way to relax when he was so close. His heat poured off of him, his scent, wild and magnetic, and now she knew why. She wasn’t as shocked as she’d been the first time she felt something running under her own skin, or when she’d slapped him and raked the skin from his face. Over time, she’d tried to convince herself she hadn’t really done it, but the rare times she actually slept, she woke up screaming, seeing the blood running down his face.
She was confused by her own feelings. She was intelligent enough to recognize that her father had not been innocent and had placed himself in harm’s way. She’d researched his business connections and had discovered for herself just how dirty he’d been. That didn’t stop her from loving him or regretting his death. She didn’t really blame Conner for that. But he’d used her to get to her father, making her an unwitting accomplice in his downfall. He’d seduced her over and over. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d done things that had seemed so completely right at the time, but after—when she knew he didn’t really love her—she’d been ashamed.
She was still ashamed. She could barely look at him without feeling his hands on her, his mouth, his body, hard and muscular moving over and in hers. She heard her own low moan of distress and ducked her head to avoid his eyes. Of course she’d researched the myths of leopard people and shape-shifters, but it seemed so outrageous it was easier to convince herself she’d been so traumatized, she’d remembered wrong.
He hadn’t loved her. He didn’t love her. Not then. Not now. It mattered little that lust burned hot in his eyes, that possession was stamped deep whenever he looked at her. He was bred for danger, it was in his bones, in his eyes and she’d been mesmerized by him. She hated that she’d made it so easy for him. She’d never looked at another man,
3
ISABEAU swallowed hard, shaking her head, her eyes wide with fear, even as she fought him, more instinctive than wanting free. “I swear, it was just Adan and me who came to see you, no one else.”
Conner responded by dragging her away from the windows and into the shelter of a small alcove where anyone looking in wouldn’t be able to see her. He gave a series of chuffing sounds, warning the others that whoever was approaching the cabin had not come with Isabeau’s knowledge.
Isabeau’s heart was pounding loud enough for him to hear, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. He held her still, ignoring the heel drumming into his shin. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he pressed his lips against her ear. “You’d better be telling the truth, because whoever is out there will be hunted.”
She forced herself to stop struggling, but her body remained tense, on the verge of flight. “I swear to you, Adan and I came alone.”
“Who knew you were trying to hire a rescue team?” Her scent was driving him insane. Her body was soft and lush and he remembered every curve, every secret hollow. It was difficult to keep from nuzzling her throat. As it was, his head dipped low and found the soft joining of her neck and shoulder.
“Adan’s wife. And he went to the grandfather of the other children, but no one else. Cortez pays spies. She has them everywhere. We had to be careful. We didn’t even meet in the open. Adan went off for a while trying to track you down, but I don’t know if he talked to anyone else.”
Rio would be questioning Adan, and the tribal elder was too savvy to lie to a leopard. “You’ll be fine, Isabeau. Nothing will happen to you with all of us around. They’ll take care of it.” But he felt caged. He didn’t like the walls surrounding him. He needed to be out where he felt he could remove any threat to her. “Just relax.”
Isabeau took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. There was no way to relax when he was so close. His heat poured off of him, his scent, wild and magnetic, and now she knew why. She wasn’t as shocked as she’d been the first time she felt something running under her own skin, or when she’d slapped him and raked the skin from his face. Over time, she’d tried to convince herself she hadn’t really done it, but the rare times she actually slept, she woke up screaming, seeing the blood running down his face.
She was confused by her own feelings. She was intelligent enough to recognize that her father had not been innocent and had placed himself in harm’s way. She’d researched his business connections and had discovered for herself just how dirty he’d been. That didn’t stop her from loving him or regretting his death. She didn’t really blame Conner for that. But he’d used her to get to her father, making her an unwitting accomplice in his downfall. He’d seduced her over and over. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d done things that had seemed so completely right at the time, but after—when she knew he didn’t really love her—she’d been ashamed.
She was still ashamed. She could barely look at him without feeling his hands on her, his mouth, his body, hard and muscular moving over and in hers. She heard her own low moan of distress and ducked her head to avoid his eyes. Of course she’d researched the myths of leopard people and shape-shifters, but it seemed so outrageous it was easier to convince herself she’d been so traumatized, she’d remembered wrong.
He hadn’t loved her. He didn’t love her. Not then. Not now. It mattered little that lust burned hot in his eyes, that possession was stamped deep whenever he looked at her. He was bred for danger, it was in his bones, in his eyes and she’d been mesmerized by him. She hated that she’d made it so easy for him. She’d never looked at another man,
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