The lash of contempt hit him like a whip and his cat raged and snarled. One eyebrow raised coolly and his eyes bore into hers, held her so she couldn't escape his focused stare. His head moved slightly and a purring growl rumbled in his chest as he moved his head close to hers. Her eyes went wide as his lips whispered over hers.
"You're lying, Isabeau. I can smell your need of me. I can feel your heat. You want me more than you ever wanted me. And you dream of me, just as I dream of you."
She shoved hard at his chest in an attempt to knock him away from her. He didn't so much as rock and she put the roped muscles of her cat behind it unknowingly. He felt the punch of her palms, the bite of her claws, and his cat leapt to meet hers, snarling for supremacy. He caught her wrists in a steel grip and held her against him. The moment he did, he knew it was a mistake. His control was already far too thin.
They stared at one another, lips inches apart, his golden gaze locked on hers. Desire was raw and unrelenting. He expected violence when the emotion was there, fierce and passionate, arcing between them, but when his lips touched hers, there was only a whisper, as if from the brush of a moth's wing, and God help them both, he didn't know if she moved or if he had. The jolt was electric, shocking in its intensity, igniting an instant fire that raced through his veins like a storm.
"I hate you," she hissed, tears in her eyes.
He felt the shudder go through her and there was no way for her to hide her body's reaction to him. "I know." He brushed back strands of her thick, tawny hair from her face. Tears caught on her lashes.
"You killed my father."
He shook his head. "I'm not letting you lay that at my door. I have enough sins without you blaming me for something I didn't do. You know better. You don't want to face it, but he killed himself the moment he threw in with that bunch for the money. They kidnapped and tortured people for money. How is that different from what's going on here?" His palm cupped her face, his thumb sliding over soft skin before she could pull away. "If you need a reason to hate me, you have legitimate ones. Stick to one of those."
Isabeau pulled away from him and crossed to the window, staring out into the forest. "Those children need to be rescued, Conner. It really doesn't matter what I feel right now. This isn't about what happened between us. It really isn't. I didn't bring you here for revenge. I wouldn't have sent for you, but Adan refused to allow me to try by myself to get inside her compound. Those children are in danger. She'll really do what she's threatened--send them home in pieces if the tribe doesn't cooperate." She turned to face him again, her eyes meeting his. "How do we get inside to find out where they're being held?"
He was silent a moment, watching her. She seemed more fragile than he remembered, more beautiful, her skin nearly glowing, her hair shiny and rippling with a silken invitation. She was telling the truth. "Then we'll have to get them out, won't we," he said softly.
Some of the tension eased from her body. "I thought you weren't going to help me."
"You really don't know about the leopard world, do you?" he asked.
She frowned and looked at her hand. "I didn't think that was real."
He held out his hand. "Look at me, but stay very calm. I mean it, Isabeau, don't make any moves or scream. My cat is hungry for you and I'm going to let him out just enough for you to know I'm speaking the truth. Don't incite him any more than your scent already has."
She looked more confused than ever, so he willed the change. His leopard leapt at his control, battering hard in an effort to emerge fully. Claws burst through his hands and fur raced up his arm. He felt the contortion of his muscles and, breathing deep, he fought the cat back. It took every ounce of strength. Sweat trickled down his body and muscles locked and froze as he urged the leopard under control.
Isabeau gasped, but she stood her ground. Most of the color leeched from her face, and her eyes seemed enormous. She rubbed at her arms as if they itched, as if her cat had leapt toward his beneath her skin. "How is this possible?" Her voice was a whisper of sound.
He glided toward her, afraid she might fall, but she stepped back and held up a defensive hand, shaking her head. He froze again, going completely still.
"The short version is, we're a separate species, not leopard, not human, but a combination of both. Our female leopards don't emerge until the Han Vol Dan, or the first heat for the leopard. Many females don't know they are leopard. My guess is, the doctor delivered you, and not realizing you were leopard, as we're a closely guarded secret, he decided to raise you when your birth mother died. We'd have to do some research, but he probably passed you off as his wife's child, or quietly adopted you."
"Why is it when I'm around you everything in my life goes to hell?" She pushed a shaky hand through her hair.
His leopard snarled a warning just as the cicadas ceased their song. A chuffing sound followed by a grunt of acknowledgment came from outside the cabin.
"Who followed you, Isabeau?" Conner was on her fast, gripping her arm and pulling her into the protection of his body, and away from the window. "Do you have someone else with 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, never been interested in having a relationship with one. She couldn't believe it when he'd smiled at her from across a room and sauntered over to talk to her. She should have known.
"Don't," he commanded softly.
He'd always been able to read what she was thinking. He seemed so much older, so much more experienced. She'd felt safe with him. "By take care of it, you mean . . ." she prompted.
"You sent for us to get the children back, Isabeau. Don't pretend to be shocked when violence is involved. If someone is hunting you or Adan, they came to do some damage. We need to know if Cortez has been warned that the Embera tribe is going to try to get the children back instead of cooperating with her."
His voice was very low and held little expression, but it felt like the lash of a whip to her, making her feel not quite bright. She was a woman unafraid of going into the deepest interior of the rain forest to catalogue and research the medicinal purposes of plants. She'd made a name for herself and was driven to succeed in finding new uses for the plants. She had been independent and happy--until she'd met Conner Vega. He'd turned her world upside down.
Was it fair to blame him for the things her father had done? Or for shedding light on his illegal activities? Maybe not. But she would never understand how he could have used her, clearly an innocent, to bring down her own father. It was wrong. There had to be lines one didn't cross. What kind of man did that? And what kind of woman still craved his touch when his character repelled her?
"I want you to slide down to the floor and sit against the wall. Stay low. We'll sit here and talk while they see who followed the two of you." He kept his hand on her arm to steady her as she obeyed him, bending her knees and sliding her back down the wall until her bottom touched the floor. "I know you're scared, Isabeau, but nothing will happen to you."
"Do you have a better plan for getting into Cortez's compound?" Isabeau needed something to distract her. She wasn't going to panic, she'd been in bad situations before and truthfully--how far did she trust him? If he could build the illusion of being in love strong enough to fool her, then he could do the same with the danger. With Conner, she didn't know what was truth or fiction.
He'd thrown her for a moment, that dangerous edge to him, more animal than man, deliberately showing her his ability to shift, to heighten her fears, put her in a vulnerable position, but she had resources. She was intelligent. She'd been in the rain forest hundreds of times, but she hadn't counted on being separated from Adan.
Conner was so close to her that she felt the instant he stiffened. He went to his feet, muscles flowing easily so he appeared silent, deadly, a cat stalking prey. The breath left her lungs in a rush as she saw him cock his head to one side and sniff the air. "Isabeau, we're getting out of here." He reached down his hand to her. "Something's not right."
"What is it?" She tried to listen, but as far as she could tell, the rain forest sounded the same, although the scream of the monkeys and the cry of the birds seemed overly loud.
"I smell smoke."
She let him pull her up. "Where's Adan?"
"With Rio. He'll be fine. Adan knows how to take care of himself in the forest. It's you I'm worried about. Let's get out of this trap."
"I didn't do this, Conner," she said.
"You wouldn't be stupid enough to kill yourself and Adan along with me," he said, not looking at her. He pulled open the cabin door a few inches and peered out, his hand tightening around hers. "Someone followed you, probably not knowing you were meeting us. And that means it's an assassination squad. Did they know you witnessed the attack on the tribe?"
Her face went pale, her eyes wide, just like when he'd shown her his claws. "The letter. Adan wrote a letter to the director of the interior of Indian affairs, detailing what had happened and asking for aid. When we didn't hear anything back, he sent word to some of his old friends, men he'd trained in survival. The official word came back that no one could risk the political fallout it would cause, bringing in a Special Forces team against Cortez without permission from this government. That's when I told him about you."
"Did he mention you? As a witness?" His fingers involuntarily tightened around hers until she let out a small gasp. He made an effort to relax. "I need to know if they've seen you. Did anyone know you were there when Cortez's men murdered some of the Indians?"
"Adan and his wife. No one else saw me."
"Did you see the letter? Did it mention you?" He hissed the words through clenched teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His leopard was raging now, his mate in danger. Fire was something used by outsiders. And any outsiders coming this far into the rain forest had a purpose. The cabin was only a few miles into the interior, but nearly impossible to find unless one knew where it was, and Adan had assured them all this meeting place was secure.
He felt the shudder of fear that rippled through her body, and he made an effort to push his cat down enough to maintain complete control. "We're going to make a run into the trees. When we come onto the porch, leap over the edge."
Her gasp was audible. "This cabin sits on stilts. We're a story up."
"You're leopard. Trust her. She'll land on her feet. You must have noticed extraordinary skills by this time."
"But I'm not . . ."
He turned his head, his golden eyes glowing yellow-green--a cat's eyes--focused and unblinking. She trailed off and nodded her head.
"If you're too afraid, I can carry you, but I won't be able to shield you as well."
The thought of him carrying her in his arms, held close against his body frightened her almost more than the guns did. She shook her head. "I'll try."
"You'll do it," he corrected, his voice gentling. "Jump over the rail on the left side. I'll be right behind you. Start running for the forest and don't look back. You've got about twenty feet to make it into the tree line. Keep running once you get there. Twenty feet is a long way, but if you let your cat lose . . ."
"I don't know how."
At least she wasn't arguing with him about being leopard. That was a start. "You'll feel her, muscles like steel, flowing like water, beneath your skin. She'll rise because she senses your fear. Your instinct will be to fight her, but she won't emerge, you're not ready yet. Let her come close. You'll run faster, take longer leaps and you'll be able to go up into the canopy."
His eyes held hers, willing her to believe him. She swallowed hard, but nodded her head.
"A leopard is tremendously strong. You have that, Isabeau. She won't swallow you, but for a few moments as she's rising, you'll feel that way. Don't panic. I'll be right behind you and I won't let anything happen to you."
Isabeau didn't know why she believed him after everything that had happened between them, but she couldn't help responding to his voice. The idea of a leopard living in her was absolutely preposterous, but she'd seen her own hand shift into a claw, felt the stiletto-like tips raking across his face. She woke up often, her heart hammering in panic, a scream of protest echoing through her room, looking to see if there was blood on her hands. His blood.
"You ready?"
She took a breath and nodded. Now she could smell smoke too. A series of shots rang out in the distance. She flinched, her stomach lurching. She'd seen what automatic weapons had done to the Indian
village, but she didn't protest. She knew the thin walls of the cabin weren't going to protect her. They had a chance in the forest.
"No hesitation. We don't know how close they are until I'm out there. Once you go through the door, you have to commit, Isabeau. Straight to the rail and over it." There was a command in his voice, one that might normally have put her back up, but she found solace in it. He was the kind of man who survived this kind of attack. The safest place in the rain forest was right at his side.
"No hesitation," she agreed, and steeled herself.
He burst through the door, rushing in front of her, shielding her body right up to the rail. Isabeau refused to look down. She leapt and was astonished when she landed adeptly with both feet onto the rail and then she was sailing over it. She was aware of Conner right beside her, keeping his larger frame between her and the narrow path leading to the small clearing. There was a kind of singing in her veins, as if adrenaline had found a symphony and played the crashing notes as it rushed through her body. Strangely, there was a rush in her body, like the flow of the wind, the sound of the trees. She landed in a crouch, utterly astonished.
The buzz of a bee was loud in her ear. As if at a distance, she heard Conner shout, his hand caught hers and yanked her into motion. She didn't have time to analyze the shocking way her body reacted, muscles flowing like water. He pulled and she felt the coil of her body, the leap that covered more than half the distance to the tree line. A second leap and she was inside the cover of the broad leaves, running along a narrow rodent path.
Her sight grew strange, as if she was seeing in bands of color, yet everything was totally clear. Her range of vision seemed enormous, as if she could see, without turning her head, a good two hundred and eighty degrees around her. Her vision was amazing to the front. Isabeau judged her ability to see at least one hundred and twenty degrees straight ahead. Her eyes didn't blink and detected movement in the underbrush as she ran--small rodents and insects as well as the fluttering of wings overhead. The deeper into the forest they went, the darker it became, but she could see quite clearly.
Wild Fire Page 5