Wild Fire

by Christine Feehan

  Shadows moved across the curved walls of the small chamber. The sound of water was constant and loud, the spray, a thick veil cutting her off from the rest of the world. Isabeau lay across the thick mat in the rock chamber behind the waterfall, and turned her head to watch the water cascading down in glittery white sheets, enjoying gentle touches to her body, but always aware of the gathering heat, a firestorm that would come crashing down on her.

  Conner. Her ruthless lover. When he touched her, she was lost. And right now he wanted to claim every inch of her. She couldn't resist his particular brand of possession. The animal in him raged close to the surface, and the intensity of his touch reflected his hunger for her. He had made certain she was comfortable--he would always see to that--before he took his time doing everything he wanted to her. She heard her own breathing, ragged gasps she couldn't quite control. Anticipation was turning her on as much as looking at him did.

  Conner knelt between her legs, surveying Isabeau for a long time before reaching out and dragging the second sleeping mat from his pack. He folded it and pushed it beneath her buttocks, raising the lower half of her body and opening her more fully to him. He studied her again. He loved the way she looked with her hair spilling around her and her body bare and open to him. There was moisture seeping between her thighs and he could scent her arousal.

  He casually dropped his hand down to cover her tempting mound. She jerked, sensitive already with anticipation. He loved her welcoming moisture. There was something so satisfying about seeing his woman like this--so ready for his attention. Conner was ravenous for her and he didn't pretend anything else and he loved that neither did she. She wasn't ashamed of wanting him, of showing him how much she wanted him. And that was an aphrodisiac, pure and simple. Everything about Isabeau was to him.

  Very slowly he lowered his body over hers, blanketing her completely like a cover, just holding her, absorbing her. She was so soft, that long expanse of skin and feminine curves. He sank into her heat, listening to the rapid beat of her heart. Her arms went around him, fingers lacing at the back of his neck. She didn't stir, didn't complain about his weight. She just absorbed him the way he was absorbing her as if she understood that great need to just hold her.

  After a few moments, he rubbed his body along hers, scent-marking, claiming her, his shadowed jaw sliding down her neck where he nipped and kissed her before bringing up his head to fix his focused gaze on hers. He lowered his head slowly, watching her eyes close just before his mouth found hers. Every time he kissed her, it was as if he was lighting a match. Heat flared. Flames blazed, the fire leapt and there was no turning back. Her kisses had been his downfall from grace and honor back when she was completely an innocent. Now, her mouth moved under his, her tongue stroking and inciting so that he burned clean and hot and out of control.

  His hand slipped to her breast and he felt her jump. Her hips bucked and her legs widened to give him better access. Conner kissed his way down her throat to her breasts, feasting there until she was making the little whimpering noises he loved. His body had been hot and hard and aching relentlessly since she'd wrapped her lips around him in the forest. He could feel her stomach muscles bunching when he tugged at her nipples and it was too tempting to stop there. He made his way down the slope of her belly and took control of her legs, spreading her wide, placing them over his arms as he bent his head to taste her.

  "It's been so fucking long," he whispered and dipped his head.

  Isabeau sucked in her breath, her fingers fisting in the mat to hold on as the rough rasp of his jaw along her thighs sent a thousand flames burning over her. Her entire body quivered. Her breasts heaved and she couldn't stop the helpless jerk of her hips. His hands tightened, just as she knew they would. He sent her one glittering look that meant hold still, and she tried to obey, tried to draw air into her lungs.

  Need was a living, breathing thing, gripping her in its fiery thrall. He pinned her thighs and spread her legs farther so that her breath came in harsh gasps. She heard herself scream when he lowered his mouth and lapped at her, licking like a large cat with a bowl of warm cream. Fireworks exploded in her head as his tongue stabbed deep, plunging into her over and over again until she thought she might come apart in a million pieces. He took his time, savoring every drop, using his teeth and tongue to draw out more whimpers and soft pleading sobs, begging for release.

  Then he was rising above her, gripping her ankles, yanking her legs over his shoulders, holding her open to him. He looked fierce, his erection thick and hard and long, pressing, burning, demanding at her entrance. She felt him there and held her breath. He plunged deep, driving through tight hot folds, and she screamed again, the friction sending fiery tongues of heat streaking through her body. She felt her muscles grip him like a vise, stretching for his invasion. Her body shuddered with pleasure as he buried himself completely and then withdrew to plunge again. His rhythm was fast and hard, almost brutal, driving her up fast so that her breath came in ragged gasps and her body rose helplessly to meet the driving needs of his. He arched over her, bracing himself with his arms, her legs forced back, giving him the ability to go deeper.

  Pinned beneath him, with her body going up in flames, he kept up the powerful strokes, hammering home over and over, drawing her deeper and deeper into a vortex of fire. Her body felt as though it was melting around his, scorching hot, her orgasm just out of reach, but building, always building. She writhed under him, desperate for release.

  He held her with his strength, his rhythm steady, fast and hard, driving so deep she was afraid he was piercing her cervix with every stroke. Every nerve ending on fire, she felt her muscles clamp down hard on him. She stiffened, but he just gripped her harder and plunged again, sending her body flying into a million fragments. A haze covered her eyes and she felt flames streak through her veins as an explosion tore through her body, ripped through her stomach and breasts and down her thighs, settling in her deepest core as she felt her muscles grip Conner's. She felt his hot release spill deep inside her, triggering another wildfire rushing over and through her.

  Conner's breathing was rough as he collapsed over her, holding her to him. She could feel his heavy erection, so desperate, almost brutal, slowly ease while her body bathed his in their combined liquid heat. His hands framed her face and his tongue speared deep into her mouth. "I love you, Isabeau," he whispered, looking down into her eyes. "When this is over, marry me and have my children."

  Her heart stuttered for a moment. She was in an awkward position with her legs up around her ears and his body buried deep, but his eyes gave no quarter. She had nowhere to hide. He wanted truth. She couldn't find the breath to speak so she nodded. She felt the tension ease in him and he rolled off of her.

  "I'm going to be really nice, honey. I'll let you sleep for half an hour and then you're going to be begging for mercy." He crawled up beside her and collapsed again, flinging one arm possessively around her waist and closed his eyes.

  AND he wasn't lying.

  ISABEAU spent the next four days with Conner as her ruthless taskmaster, a ruthless commander who demanded perfection of both Jeremiah and her. She had to shoot guns for hours, take them apart and put them back together as well as keep working on combat techniques. Jeremiah had it worse. He had to shift on the run, and the entire team was merciless with him. Fortunately, he was so proficient with a rifle, she could tell they were all impressed with him.

  The next four nights were spent behind the waterfall, with Conner as her demanding lover, a man never quite sated and always pushing for more. There were times she wasn't certain she would survive the intensity of their love-making, but she really didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of his body inside hers and the love in his eyes when he claimed her.

  11

  "REMEMBER to stay close to Elijah no matter what happens." Conner kept his hand on the car door, refusing to open it, although everyone was waiting. "Once we go in, don't look at me. Anyone in there can be working
for her. You have to put on the best acting job of your life. And Isabeau--" He caught her chin in his hand, his glittering eyes staring straight into hers. "So will I--I'll be acting too."

  Isabeau swallowed hard and nodded. "I know, Conner. I can do this."

  "If you get into trouble, signal Rio or Elijah. They'll get you out of it."

  "We've gone over this a hundred times." Her mouth was dry and fear had gripped her in spite of all her good intentions. She wanted to cling to Conner, but instead forced a small smile. "I'm ready."

  "We're going over it again, just to be sure. Jeremiah will be outside up high in the trees with a rifle. He can shoot the wings off a butterfly; he'll protect you outside. If there's a problem . . ."

  "I take the barrette out of my hair."

  "That's the signal to shoot. If you're in trouble, use it."

  "Conner, I'm going to be fine."

  "She won't come in until late. Don't get antsy or alarmed. Her security detail will come in first and sweep the room, looking for people like us. You're going to stand out, honey. You're a female leopard and the two rogues are going to sense you're close to the Han Vol Dan. That will agitate them, make them more aggressive. You cannot be alone with one of them. Do you understand?"

  "You aren't speaking a foreign language," she hissed. He was making her more nervous. It wasn't like every single man on the team hadn't already pointed that out to her. Even Jeremiah.

  His eyes narrowed. Burned. "What? If you aren't going to take this threat seriously, Isabeau, you can damn well stay here. In the car."

  She threw her hands into the air. "Conner, you're making me crazy. I'm scared enough. You don't have to keep going over this. I know what we're doing. I know what you have to do and I'm going to be all right with it. I'll stay very close to Elijah, unless you've scared him into thinking you're going to kill him if he looks at me wrong."

  She sounded so exasperated, Conner found some of the tension easing from his body. He sank his fingers into her silky hair. "I'm sorry, beloved, I want you safe. I can't think about much else right now. Letting you go in there is unbelievably difficult."

  She framed his face with her hands. "Letting you go in there is worse for me. I'm not afraid of Imelda Cortez."

  "You should be."

  She gave him a slight smile. "I should have said my cat isn't afraid. She's so close, Conner, and I want her. I want to be able to use her strength to help you."

  "Just stay clear of the rogues. They won't be able to resist trying to get you alone. Stay with . . ."

  "Elijah. Yeah. I think we started this conversation here. Go inside. I'm going to be fine." She leaned into him, kissing him, grateful for the tinted windows.

  "Damn it, Isabeau," Elijah snapped. "When you get out, all of us will have to hug you, rub our scent over you, otherwise the rogues will be able to pick up Conner's scent exclusively."

  Rio glared at Conner. "That's a rookie mistake."

  "Great," she muttered rebelliously, "they're going to think I'm the loose, easy chick."

  "I'm beginning to think Conner's right and you should stay in the car," Rio said.

  Isabeau rolled her eyes and reached across Conner to shove open the door. She wasn't staying in the car.

  Conner simply shrugged before flashing his teeth at Isabeau in a conspiratorial smirk. He exited the SUV and took his first good look at the estate where Philip Sobre, the chief of tourism resided. The man had done well for himself. The six-story sprawling mansion was on a slope overlooking the forest. The panoramic views swept around the verandah and from every deck and window in the large house. Trees, centuries old, rose up in grandeur, to surround the house and lead the way to the small lake shimmering just a distance away.

  The temperature had begun to fall and Conner could hear the familiar sounds of the rain forest as evening settled in. The frog chorus had already begun in the many small ponds and puddles of water as the amphibians defended their territories and did their melodious best to attract mates. Higher up, hidden on the massive trunks and branches, the tree frogs chimed in with their strange knocking sound, a song that was more obnoxious, but strangely comforting.

  He stepped out of the way and allowed Elijah to help Isabeau from the vehicle. All the while he kept his gaze moving around them, surveying the estate, he was acutely aware of her. The way she moved. The sound of her voice. The way the shadows caressed her face lovingly.

  A myriad of insects had joined the frogs, with the cicadas taking a prominent roll in the chorus. Farther out, in the inky darkness, his cat could sense and identify other smaller rodents foraging on the forest floor. He had the sudden urge to throw Isabeau over his shoulder and disappear into that darkness where no one could ever find them. He turned his head to look at her, in spite of his commands to her that they should appear indifferent. He couldn't help it.

  And that, he supposed, was the main problem he had with Isabeau. From the beginning, he lacked control and discipline when he was around her. He'd taught her to please him. He was the dominant in the relationship, yet she held him in the palm of her hand. She was wrapped so tightly around his heart there was no escape. There was no way to blame it on his cat--or hers--this was all about the woman, the whole of her.

  Their eyes met. God, she was beautiful, a bright spirit, shining from the inside out. He was going into a party filled with corrupt individuals who wanted every last dollar they could rob from the poorer people around them. She went into a rain forest and studied how plants could be used to heal people. The woman he was going to seduce was the worst of all, with no regard for human life. His woman was willing for her man to do whatever it took in order to save children not her own.

  "I love you," he said. Stark. Raw. In front of them all.

  She flashed a small smile and there was pride in her eyes. "I love you too."

  He turned and fell into step with Marcos Santos, Felipe and Leonardo's uncle. His heart ached and it was difficult to fall into his role as the personal protector. Rio touched his shoulder lightly and he flicked his glance to the team leader.

  "We'll take care of her," Rio assured him.

  Isabeau was smart and she'd learned fast. She had been in the rain forest on and off most of her life. And she read people very well. He had to believe in her abilities. He nodded his head at Rio, and continued to scan the area around them as they began to make their way up the winding path to the main house.

  The rain forest was kept at bay by a host of workers continually at war with it. At every opportunity, the forest tried to reclaim lost land. The roots from the fig trees formed great cages all up and down the property and flowers curled up the trunks in a riot of color. Philodendron leaves as big as umbrellas shot up the trunks and every conceivable post, turning the grounds into a massive forest of greenery.

  The plants sheltered the house from the surrounding forest more effectively than the high fence that had been added. Already the plants wound their way up the chain and in a few years, he could see the house would be hidden completely from outsiders. But for now, the view inside the banks of windows and along the balconies and verandahs was fairly clear for Jeremiah.

  The security force Philip Sobre used was everywhere, walking patrols along the grounds, making a show of weapons, but he noticed no one was looking in the high canopy just outside the grounds. Jeremiah would have it easy at least until the rogue leopards came. The men here now, hired to protect those coming to the party, were not real professional soldiers or bodyguards. Conner suspected they were men from a local police force making some extra money.

  As Marcos approached the front door, Felipe laid a hand on his shoulder and they stepped back to allow Conner to go in first without them. Conner set his face in hard, unreadable lines and approached the door, opening his jacket so there was no mistake he was armed. The doorman checked the list, nodded and allowed him in. He went through each room carefully and it was a damn big house. He took note of the security cameras, windows, exits and staircases. Th
ey had studied a layout of the house already, but the blueprints weren't exact. He spoke low into his radio, giving the other members of his team the remodels that weren't in the floor plans.

  Several doors on the second floor opened into a courtyard where more exotic plants grew amidst a series of fountains leaping from a pool of koi. He sent the entire layout to his crew and Jeremiah, letting Elijah and Rio know the easiest rooms in which to protect their "clients," before allowing Marcos to enter.

  Philip Sobre, the chief of tourism, rushed forward to greet Marcos Santos. Of course he ignored both Conner and Felipe. As an important guest, Marcos was shown personally into the house.

  "I've brought a personal friend along with me, Elijah Lospostos. I trust my secretary sent you a note, as I was already en route when I realized he was in your country. He is in the country to visit his cousin who resides here. She's with us as well--Isabeau Chandler," Marcos said. "If they're not welcome, we can meet another time." His tone was casual as only an extremely wealthy businessman used to getting his way could have been. "Elijah has his own security with him. One of his personal protectors is my own nephew. Elijah is like a son to me, as is my nephew." He half turned as if he might leave.

  Philip bowed several times. "Of course your friends are welcome." And he was under strict orders to see to it that Elijah Lospostos felt very welcome. He waved Elijah's personal protector through, glaring at his doormen when the man would have stopped and checked for other weapons than the one in plain sight.

  Elijah barely nodded at the man, flashing his white teeth briefly, looking more dangerous than the wild animals surrounding the estate. He wrapped his arm around Isabeau and drew her inside. Isabeau was dressed for the occasion in a long, swinging skirt that brushed her ankles and a short top that accented the curves of her body. She had the radiance and allure of a female close to the Han Vol Dan. Her scent was feminine and enticing. She was a vision in blue, and Philip stumbled when he saw her. He took her hand, gazed into her eyes with far too much greed, bending over her hand as though he might kiss it.