Leopard’s Rage

by Feehan, Christine

  “What’s the plan?” Fyodor asked.

  “The plan is, you and Mitya stay in your homes with your wives where you’re supposed to be,” Sevastyan said. “That’s the plan.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Mitya hissed. “I want to know what the hell you’re up to, Sevastyan.”

  “What I’m up to is getting my woman home and putting her to bed before she falls asleep on her feet. She’s nervous and uncertain. I want to reassure her. I hope tomorrow I can introduce her to Evangeline and Ashe. Get her feeling comfortable with our side of the family. She can start work on the property. Her crew is going to come in with the supplies she needs in a couple of days. I want to make certain it’s safe for them before she brings them in.”

  He was careful not to give out too much information, because Mitya would never buy it if he talked too much. He wasn’t a talker. His family knew that. He had to say something. Put them off as if he were going to listen to Drake. Everyone listened to Drake. Ultimately, he called the shots in the roller coaster and dangerous game they played. Unfortunately for Drake, Sevastyan wasn’t part of his crew. He wasn’t a vor. He wasn’t a don. He wasn’t a territory holder. He wasn’t anything at all but a bodyguard who loved his cousin. His sole loyalty belonged to his family.

  Mitya sighed. “That sounds like a good plan. Ania was excited to meet her tonight. She has always been interested in how the trees and brush were developed on the properties.”

  “I’m particularly grateful for the underground tunnel her grandfather came up with,” Sevastyan said, allowing tiredness to edge his voice. “I’ve been doing some exploring and found two other escape routes, Mitya. They need work. One has partially collapsed and needs to be reopened, but it leads to the main road. It comes out several miles above a neighbor’s vineyard, very close to the exit leading to the freeway. At the time the escape tunnel was constructed, there was no way of knowing a major highway would be put in right there, but it worked out nearly perfectly.”

  “You have to be careful,” Mitya said, narrowing his eyes at his cousin. “You take too many chances, Sevastyan. Those tunnels could collapse completely and you could be buried alive in them without any of us knowing you’re down there.”

  Fyodor and Sevastyan exchanged an amused look with Gorya. “You sound like an old hen, Mitya,” Fyodor cautioned. “Always worried.”

  Mitya glared at him. “The tunnel did collapse, you cretins. Someone has to think for you. None of you think in terms of safety. Those tunnels are fifty years old. Who knows how they were constructed? They need major renovations before they can be used.”

  Sevastyan hid a smile. “Mitya is right. I’m being careful. I’ve got someone I trust, an engineer, looking them over. We’re shoring the tunnels up and then retrofitting them section by section. I have no intentions of being buried alive, but I think having ways for us to exit our homes without being seen, or traveling between the two properties without being seen, are major advantages for us.”

  “I have to agree,” Mitya said. “But, for now, I think you need to get your woman home. You look tired, Sevastyan, and that’s a rare thing.”

  Fyodor nodded. “I have to agree. You’re working too hard. Maybe you should take a little time off. Turn over Mitya’s security to Gorya for a week or two. Let him handle it while you see to Flambé. You’ve been renovating your home and working long hours for some time now. Give yourself some time off.”

  Mitya nodded. “I think that would be a good idea.”

  Sevastyan pushed himself away from the table as he rose. “I’ll think about it.” He turned away from his cousins. The men in this room were his family—the ones he cared most about in the world—the ones he could count on. He could hear the affection in their voices, the genuine concern. He did his best to stay apart—emotion didn’t work when one was a bodyguard—but it was difficult when these men were all he had.

  Now, apart from Gorya, each of them had found a woman. Fyodor had Evangeline. She was amazing. Sevastyan had done his best to keep his distance, but it was difficult when she was so genuine. Then Timur had fallen hard for Ashe. That had been unexpected. Like Sevastyan, Timur was a bodyguard, and he took protecting Fyodor seriously. Mitya had found Ania on the side of the road in a rainstorm. She had a flat tire and he had stopped to help her, against Sevastyan’s advice. Mitya had ignored the head of his security as usual, and this time, it had turned out to be a very good thing. Ania was amazing for Mitya. She suited him perfectly. Sevastyan could only hope that Flambé would suit him just as well as the other women matched his cousins.

  Ania and Flambé were in the drawing room, both seated beside the warmth of the evening fire. It was on low, and the two had their chairs close and were talking in soft voices when Sevastyan strode in. He saw Flambé’s gaze jump to his face. He could see her instant relief in his presence. She was glad to see him, but there was wariness too, as if she was uncertain what to do.

  He held out his hand to her. She rose and crossed the room to him, but she didn’t take his hand. “Did Ania take good care of you?” He bent to brush a kiss across her temple. “I tried not to be too long.”

  Ania joined them as well. “I really enjoyed meeting Flambé,” she said. “Thanks for bringing her over, Sevastyan. She knows so much about plants. Indoor and outdoor.”

  “I had a good time,” Flambé added.

  “Good. You look like a sleepy kitten.” He wrapped his arm around her and brought her under his shoulder, up close to his body, a claiming move, a bit proprietary, waiting for her to stiffen or object. She did neither, but she didn’t settle or relax against him either.

  “Thanks, Ania. Flambé is important to me.” Sevastyan wanted to make that very clear. “She had a traumatic day.”

  “That bastard hit her,” Ania acknowledged. “She told me.”

  Before Flambé could protest the topic of conversation, Sevastyan tightened his arm around her, pressing her front to his side. “I don’t want her thinking about him anymore. He’s my problem now. She’s going to be designing the landscaping for the property. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with. Since she’ll be staying with me, I’ll get to see her process. She’s going to be working hands-on. Maybe you’d like to come over and watch sometime, Ania?”

  “Would you mind, Flambé?” Ania asked, excitement edging her voice. “I can bring your crew Evangeline’s baked goods. Trust me, I won’t make them myself. I nearly burned down her bakery trying to help her once and learned my lesson when it came to that kind of baking crap. It isn’t as easy as it looks. She even had the dough made up.”

  “Really?” Flambé tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t. She burst into laughter.

  Sevastyan didn’t make the mistake even though both women were laughing. He’d seen his cousins fall for the same bullshit over and over and get into trouble. He just looked down at the two women impassively. Ania sobered up first, looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t be all judgy, Sevastyan. I know you want to laugh.”

  He didn’t say a word. He simply turned toward the door, taking Flambé with him. At the last moment, he remembered to keep his strides shorter to allow her to keep up. They headed out to the small Jeep he had purchased so that it could fit in the tunnel he’d renovated, allowing him to drive between the two properties unseen.

  “I like her. I’d never had a chance to meet Ania Dover. She was always working or taking care of her father. We only went out a couple of times when her father wanted more trees planted. That was before the accident and then the robbery.”

  He settled her in the Jeep. “You do know what happened with her mother and grandparents wasn’t really an accident, right? Someone deliberately ran them off the road and killed them. The same people tried to murder her father and make it look like a robbery.” He walked around the hood of the car to slide behind the wheel. He really detested telling her the truth, but mates didn’t lie to each other. Even if some did, he wasn’t built that way. He expect
ed her to trust him. In order to do that, he had to tell her the truth, no matter how difficult it was.

  By the silence, he could tell she hadn’t known or even suspected. He glanced at her as he put the vehicle in motion and drove it straight toward the entrance to the underground passage.

  “Is that true?” Flambé put one hand to her throat defensively. “Why would anyone target the Dover family, Sevastyan? They’ve been around for generations. That’s not right. Was it because they’re a shifter family?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s more complicated than that.”

  Flambé rubbed her temples as if she might have a headache. “I don’t understand why people are so ugly to one another.”

  “I don’t either, baby. Just put your head back and rest. I’ll get us home and you can go to sleep.” He kept his voice pitched low and soothing.

  “If I fall asleep and don’t have a chance to tell you, thank you for dinner and stopping by my house to get my clothes and my own garden tools and laptop. Things like that are important to me.”

  “Naturally. If we couldn’t have gone ourselves, I would have sent for them. It was just nicer for you to choose what you wanted to bring with you.” He wanted the chance to see her home. To see how she lived and what she surrounded herself with. Whatever made Flambé comfortable was what he was going to provide.

  “You’re a very thoughtful man.”

  He glanced at her again. Those long red-gold-tipped lashes had fallen, leaving her looking young and vulnerable whenever the lights from the tunnel hit her as they flashed past. Her hair would briefly blaze to life and then darkness would settle around them like a cloak. He wasn’t a thoughtful man—not as a rule—not for others unless it came down to security details. It was just that she mattered to him. He found it astonishing and disconcerting just how quickly she’d come to matter so much. How every little detail about her counted.

  It wasn’t just that she was going to be his leopard’s mate and by default, his. He was already intrigued with her. More than intrigued. So much more. He wanted this woman the more time he spent with her. The pull between them grew stronger, and the chemistry hotter.

  He knew the leopards had a lot to do with it, but it wasn’t all about their leopards. He was far too disciplined and in control to allow himself to to be swayed to this extent by his cat. It was the promise of Flambé. The way she looked at him. The brush of her gaze moving over his body and then retreating. He knew women. He read them easily. He was a shifter and he had all of his cat’s enhancements. He could smell her arousal. Her interest. Her submission. Her needs and demands.

  Right now, she sat in the Jeep, seat belt tight around her, clad in the power suit she’d worn to his house earlier in the day. The silk blouse clung to her generous breasts, showing a hint of the darker bra beneath it. She had to have known, when she slid into the seat, that her blouse had come unbuttoned, those first three buttons, but she hadn’t tidied them. She’d left them, so the upper curves of her breasts showed where the material was pulled apart.

  He didn’t need the lights in the tunnel to see her. His leopard was close, and he saw every detail of her bone structure along with her satin skin and the fall of silky hair as he drove fast through the passageway. She was beautiful. He couldn’t wait to see her laid out for him like a feast. In the meantime, he was looking forward to getting to know her, finding out all the things that pleased her, made her smile and laugh, that mattered to her.

  Sevastyan drove the Jeep from the underground tunnel straight into the garage with no lights and parked it, turned it off and just sat there listening. He called Shturm close, wanting the cat to ensure no leopard or man was in the garage or close by. He hadn’t perceived danger near, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Flambé.

  When Shturm assured him the garage was clear, he woke Flambé gently and gathered her suitcases. “Let’s go, malen’koye plamya. Stay very quiet. I don’t want any of Franco’s men to hear us. They think we’re inside.”

  “They’re still out there?” She turned her face up toward him, the back of her head rubbing against his chest.

  She was very tactile. As a rule, Sevastyan forbade touching. His leopard would never have stood for it. When he went to the clubs, the women didn’t touch him unless he commanded them to do so. Most of the time, he didn’t allow it. He looked forward to skin-to-skin touch with Flambé. He also knew it would be advantageous if she needed a continuous physical demonstration between them. It had bothered him that she hadn’t taken his hand at Mitya’s house when he’d offered it to her.

  He bent to brush a reassuring kiss on the side of her cheek and skimmed one hand down her neck to the swell of her breasts, the sweet expanse of curves her open blouse revealed. He covered the satiny mounds with the heat of his palm and the wide expanse of his fingers. Her breasts were soft yet firm. He didn’t make excuses for touching her. He didn’t need to. She’d given him the invitation.

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the curve of her breasts. “They’re out there.”

  Her breath hitched. Flambé didn’t pretend she didn’t like what he was doing to her. She inched into his hand, not away from it. Her hips moved slightly in rhythm. She was very responsive to the chemistry happening between them. At the moment, her leopard wasn’t involved. He was grateful she was responding to the man and not his leopard.

  “What do they want?”

  She wasn’t thinking anymore, not about Franco Matherson. She was thinking about Sevastyan and he wanted to keep her that way. He didn’t want to answer that question. Leopards could hear lies and he wasn’t about to lie to her. He didn’t want her to be afraid nor did he want her to know that he was going hunting the moment she fell asleep.

  Deliberately he slid his hand deeper into her blouse, finding her left nipple through the thin lace of her bra. He tugged for a moment and then, watching her face, flicked with his thumb and finger. She gasped as he rolled and tugged again.

  “I love that you’re so responsive.” He whispered it like praise and then bit gently on the lobe of her ear before letting her go and once more picking up her suitcases. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to get inside. I need you safe.” He led the way fast, clearly expecting her to follow him.

  She was silent when she walked, a true leopard. She’d been brought up in a lair. Trained as a leopard. Her father had definitely taught her the rules of their world. She knew they weren’t entirely human and they weren’t animal. Theirs was a strict society because it had to be secretive in order for them to have a chance at survival.

  Sevastyan didn’t understand, when there were such good men as Ania’s father had been, why aberrations like his father and Matherson were born into an already dying species. Sevastyan couldn’t claim he was a good man, although he tried to be. He wanted to be. He did his best when he knew he’d been fucked up since the day he’d been born. For the woman following him into the house, he would do his best to be a better man every day. For her.

  He would find a way to make her life extraordinary. Fyodor managed to make Evangeline happy. But Evangeline was an angel. Sevastyan didn’t want an angel. He couldn’t afford to have one, not with the kind of man he was. He wanted a woman who would catch fire with him. Go up in fiery flames. Be fierce when she needed to be. Have no fear when she confronted him or with the kinds of things he would ask or demand of her.

  He would be asking a lot of Flambé. He believed she had it all in her, just by the things he’d read about her and her father. She’d grown up beside her father, doing the things he’d done. Rescuing her people, giving them opportunities to make their way in life. She seemed to possess all the characteristics he admired and respected in a woman, the ones he most looked for.

  He was an extremely sexual man. There was no getting around that. The way she related to him already, he could tell she was as well. The sex wasn’t going to be all about her cat; when the leopard subsided with her heat, Flambé’s needs wouldn’t just go away. She would m
atch his nature, and hopefully be open to adventure.

  “I thought this room would be a good one for you. It was the master bedroom and has a sitting room. You can use it for work until you move upstairs with me.” He pushed open the door to the enormous suite of rooms.

  The Dover manor was large and the downstairs master bedroom could have easily been a city apartment complete with kitchen, dining room and living room. It was open, with two stairs leading up to the actual bedroom, where a gas fireplace was on one wall. Chairs and a small table were down below the two stairs on a thick gray carpet facing another gas fireplace. One wall was accented a dark color while the rest matched the silvery gray of the carpet. Two tall lamps were slashes of dark color with oval-shaped shades over the dim bulbs standing on either side of the enormous bed.

  “The bathroom is through those doors. Has a shower and bathtub. Anything you need should already be in there for you, but if not, intercom me.” He gestured toward the phone. “Anything at all, Flambé, if your leopard rises, or you get frightened, you call me.” He walked over to the phone and showed her where to press the button. “That will call me. Don’t come up the stairs. That could get you in trouble.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m being as gentle with you as I can. The leopards aren’t going to give us much time. I want to take what we have to get to know each other. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is.” He poured warning into his voice and hoped she heeded him.

  She didn’t look afraid, only intrigued. He opened the double closet doors. The closet could fit a small apartment into it as well. Hers. She lived in a little studio. It was on her father’s property, but she didn’t reside in the main house. He didn’t know who stayed there and he didn’t care. She liked small spaces, which was good to know that she didn’t mind them.