Wild Fire (Leopard People 3)

"You're really worried about him."

"He took his beating like a man. He owns up to his mistakes. He's got courage. He's cocky, but then weren't we all at that age?"

She found herself smiling again. She loved the way he could be so intimidating, so dangerous looking and yet beneath that untamed exterior he had a heart. He'd probably hate that she thought that, but she knew just by his voice that he was going to make certain Jeremiah had the best chance possible to survive joining their team.

"Stop looking at me with stars in your eyes, Isabeau."

His voice had gone husky. Gruff. His eyes had gone all cat. Her womb clenched. Spasmed. Spilled liquid heat. She cleared her throat. "How long before my cat emerges all the way?" Isabeau asked. "Will we have enough time? I don't want to go through it without you."

"Not long. You're close," he said, his gaze drifting over her in a possessive, hungry way that took her breath and sent her temperature rising fast. "Too close."

There was still that hint of shadow in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn't--and she conceded he probably did. She didn't expect it to be easy to watch him with Imelda Cortez, the thought frankly sickened her, but she wasn't going to lose him. Not again. There had to be a way for them to get through this intact and still get the children out. She glanced up to see they were getting close to the others. A few more feet. She caught his arm.

"Whatever it takes, Conner. I would hope you wouldn't even have to kiss her, but I'm not going to put limitations on what I'll accept. You can't go into a life-threatening situation with that on your mind. If we do this, we both commit. Together. Agreed?"

He groaned softly and pulled her close again. She could hear his heart. "I know you believe you're that strong, Isabeau, and I love you for it, but your cat is going to have her say and it isn't going to be easy. Cats are jealous and temperamental and we can't always control them. You saw me with Jeremiah--and I like the kid. If you despise a woman, how do you think your cat is going to react knowing I'm flirting with her--or worse?"

"If your cat can handle it, then mine will have to, won't she?" She lifted her chin. "I want the children back--all of them--but especially Mateo because he's ours. And he was Marisa's. I want this woman stopped. If anyone comes up with another way into her stronghold, we'll take it, but if all we're left with is securing an invite through you, then we'll have to take it." She suddenly caught her breath. "Elijah! Conner, Elijah could do it."

He shook his head, dashing her hopes. "Three reasons. One, Mateo is my brother, and pretending to want to sleep with this woman will be a crap job I won't push off on someone else. Two, Elijah, as good as he is, and he is good, very cool under fire, is relatively inexperienced. And three, Imelda won't go for someone she would conceive of as being equal to her. She wants a dominant male, but not one her equal. I've studied her, and Elijah would pose a threat. He might want to take over her position of power. A bodyguard wouldn't do that."

She let her breath out and forced a smile. "Then we go with our plan."

They returned, hand in hand, to the cabin where the others waited. Conner mapped out several escape routes through the rain forest, showing them the safest areas where they might shelter the children and keep them moving as well as the best campsites for them. They'd have to go in and mark the drop sites.

"I'll go and take Jeremiah with me," Conner concluded. "We'll go as leopards. It will be faster and safer. It will give Jeremiah the experience he needs in climbing fast and leaving no trace. Rio always flies the helicopter. Elijah is our supply man."

Felipe grinned at Jeremiah and showed off his muscles. "Leonardo and I are the big guns--the brawn."

"You mean not the brains." Jeremiah smirked.

That earned him a light cuff from Rio, but Jeremiah only laughed, not in the least deterred. Isabeau could see they were already developing a camaraderie of sorts with the newest member of their team. He might be on probation and in training, but they already treated him with growing affection.

"So we go in, Conner and Felipe will be personal protectors for Marcos," Rio got back to business, "and Leonardo and I will be the same for Elijah."

"Don't worry about our uncle," Felipe hastened to assure. "He might be in his sixties, but he's fast and cunning when needed. I wouldn't want to go up against him. And with Elijah, we've got six of us, all leopards."

"What about me?" Jeremiah demanded.

Rio shrugged. "You know Suma is going to be there and he's tried to recruit you. He can't see you. How are your shooting skills?"

Jeremiah looked happy all over again. "I'm a crack shot."

"Don't say it if it isn't true," Conner cautioned.

"High wind. Over a mile."

The men looked at one another. "We'll give you a chance to prove what you can do," Rio said. "If you aren't exaggerating, you'll be watching our backs for us."

"And me?" Isabeau ventured. "I could go in as Elijah's girlfriend. None of them has ever seen me. Elijah could be here to see me and knew his old friend Marcos was coming."

"No way." Conner stated it as a fact.

"She has to be protected," Elijah pointed out. "We can't just leave her out and you know it, Conner. She could prove to be a valuable asset. They have two rogue leopards. Those leopards won't be thinking of anything but Isabeau."

"That's really going to make me agree, now isn't it?" Conner said, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Not his girlfriend," Rio said. "Something closer. A sister or cousin. A relative. That makes it war if they touch her. A girlfriend might be considered disposable and the rogues are going to know she's leopard. They'll buy it. He came out to see her and bring her some news from home. In the meantime, they'll suspect that Marcos and Elijah are having a secret meeting. Cortez won't be able to risk the bait. The pot's too sweet. Elijah and Marcos, allies who could open doors for her, and you, Conner. Not to mention all the leopards."

Conner rubbed his temples and looked down at Isabeau's upturned face. She looked so innocent. She had no idea of the monsters they were dealing with. She'd seen their work, but she didn't have the capacity to understand the depths of their depravity and greed.

"If we tell you to get out, Isabeau . . ."

"I actually am extremely intelligent, Conner. I'll take orders from those with the experience."

There was no point in protesting. There wasn't another answer. And she did have a sharp mind. She might be an asset. "Let's get the escape runs done and then we'll think of every single thing that could go wrong and make plans to cover that as well."

10

THE escape routes were difficult to set up. Isabeau, riding in the helicopter with both Rio and Elijah, found herself using binoculars and straining her eyes to spot the small balloon tied to a tree. It was Jeremiah's job to climb the tree and mark the spot with a balloon, signaling to the helicopter where they were to drop the supplies along the escape route. Conner would then cache the supplies and mark the spot so any member of the team would know where to recover the food, water and arms. Even with the bright balloon, the canopy was nearly impenetrable, a world high in the air that cut off everything beneath it from the sky, making it very difficult to spot the target.

The rain forest looked different from the air. The mist seemed to hang like lacy veils throughout the canopy. The trees derived a great deal of moisture from the clouds they were shrouded in. Isabeau felt almost as if she could reach out and touch the drapes of film clinging to the branches and leaves. She even forgot to be scared, although the helicopter continually bucked as the wind came in gusts. Rio kept it just above the tops of the trees once they'd spotted Jeremiah's balloon.

She admired the efficiency with which they worked and realized they had definitely perfected the smooth way the team ran. She wanted to be a part of it, or at the very least, feel as though she contributed in some way. She tried to learn by watching them and even envied Jeremiah a little that he was able to actively participate.

Once back at t

he cabin, where they ate and hashed out every conceivable thing that could go wrong, and how to prepare for it, Isabeau found herself melting back into the shadows to watch Conner while they talked. She loved seeing the light play over his face, deepening the effect of a hard, dangerous man. He was intelligent and confident, and the sound of his voice became a drumbeat in her veins. Every breath he took expanded his chest and rippled the muscles beneath the thin material of his shirt.

Conner looked magnetic all sprawled out in his chair, lazy, as only a leopard could be. His jeans were snug, encasing his long legs as he tipped back his chair, his eyes half closed, his attention on the conversation--at least it appeared to be wholly focused there. His gaze flicked up and found her in the shadows, and her heart began to pound to that same drumming in her veins. She felt her womb clench and heated liquid dampened her panties.

One smoldering look. She remembered that so well. He rarely had to say anything--just looking at her could put her into a state of arousal. He was dangerous, sexy as hell. She couldn't take her eyes from him. When he spoke, his voice poured into the room with the same intensity as his molten gold eyes. He mesmerized her in the way a leopard might its prey. Once his gaze found her, focused on her, she couldn't find breath. She couldn't think clearly.

Isabeau tried to analyze how he had such a hypnotic, disturbing effect on her. Her entire body reacted to him. Her breasts ached, felt swollen and sensitive and needy. Her body pulsed with that need, that terrible craving she couldn't seem to sate. He looked intensely masculine, a sensual temptation she couldn't resist.

His hand casually snagged the neck of a water bottle and he tipped the contents down his throat, the action tightening her body. A frisson of awareness went down her spine. She loved the way he moved, the easy strength, the sureness he exuded. Everything about him appealed to her--even his arrogant dominance. She couldn't blame her reaction to him on her cat. This was the woman--or maybe both--who craved him.

He looked sinful with his legs stretched out in front of him and that thick, tempting bulge she was so familiar with straining his faded, worn jeans. She wanted to crawl over him and rip away the offending material to get at the hidden prize. Her mouth watered remembering the taste and texture of him, the way his hand gripped her hair and the sound of his growling moans. He had been so patient with her as she worked at learning how to pleasure him, and he'd always made her feel as if everything she did was sexy and exciting. He'd whispered instructions and she had obeyed, shivering with need, with wanting to please him. Whatever she did for him was rewarded a hundredfold. He could do things, knew things about her, she could never share with another man.

Her gaze dropped to his hands, carelessly circling the bottle, remembering the feel of his rough palms on her breasts, between her thighs, fingers sliding deep to stroke and caress and drive her insane with need. She swallowed hard as he tipped the bottle to his lips again, drawing her attention to his mouth. Hot. Sexy. So seductive she could never have resisted. His mouth had been ruthless, driving her up so fast she remembered she couldn't catch her breath. His hands on her hips, pinning her down, holding her open for his feast, had been strong and exciting, thrilling even. When his tongue penetrated, stabbing deep, flicking, his strong teeth teasing, she'd been shocked. She'd used her heels to try to push out from under him, but he'd held her fast, throwing her into a ferocious orgasm--one she'd never forget. It had been the first time she'd screamed under the ministrations of his mouth--and she'd never stopped.

She wanted to scream again. Loud and long and feel the pleasure rising like a tidal wave. She watched with fascination as he tipped the bottle again. Under cover of the act, those golden eyes found her in the shadow. There was dark lust blatant in his eyes. He did nothing at all to hide what he wanted from her as his gaze traveled possessively over her body.

She froze, much like the prey of a leopard might, her breath caught in her lungs, her stomach muscles bunched and tightened. Under his direct stare, she could feel the damp moisture gathering between her thighs. Arousal made her shiver with need.

Around him, the men shifted uncomfortably, and Rio shot Conner one emotion-laden look. Conner stood without a word, setting the water on the table and holding out his hand to her. "We're leaving. Be back tomorrow sometime."

His voice was rough with the same dark lust that had taken hold of her. She wasn't alone in her torment. She could see the impressive bulge had grown even thicker than it had been. She put her trembling hand in his. He was warm--hot even--she could feel the heat pouring off his body to envelope her. She didn't look at the others, didn't even care that they probably scented her arousal. Her heart was pounding and her body pulsed with liquid desire. Her breasts felt heavy, aching, her nipples tight, hard buds. Her thighs quivered and lust danced in her veins, little electrical shocks running rampant through her muscles and over her skin.

Conner snagged a large backpack and then drew her out onto the verandah. She followed him down the ladder without a word. The rain had started again, a soft drizzle that barely penetrated the canopy. The few drops that managed to land on her seemed to sizzle and turn to steam with the heat emanating from their bodies. He didn't say anything at all, didn't look down at her even after they were well away from the cabin and in the safety and shelter of the trees.

He didn't have to say anything. The air thickened around them so every step became difficult. Each breath she drew into her lungs was harsh and ragged. His palm burned into the small of her back, just above her buttocks, as they moved along a narrow, overgrown path. His steps were sure in the dark, his eyes giving off the peculiar nightglow of his leopard.

She'd never been more aware of her own femininity. Her body had gone soft and pliant, pulsing with aching need, with every step, her core clenching and wet. The sound of cicadas rose and fell, the ever-present shrill adding to her raw nerve endings. In the distance, through the inky darkness, she could hear a chorus of frogs and then the call of a bird. A twig snapped. Conner never hesitated. He walked with absolute assurance, all flowing, fluid grace and rippling ropes of muscle, so that each time he brushed against her sensitive skin, her breath caught and a multitude of butterflies took wing in the vicinity of her stomach.

Without warning he turned abruptly, dropped the pack and yanked her to him. His hands gripped hard and she felt the tension running like a river, sending a thrill of anticipation down her spine. Deliberately, she licked the length of his jawline and then trailed kisses along his shadowed jaw before sucking his earlobe into her mouth and then tugging with her teeth.

His breath exploded in a harsh gasp and he drove her backward until she clung to him to keep from falling. His teeth raked down her throat and nipped her shoulder before his mouth returned to claim hers, his tongue sweeping inside. He didn't just kiss her, he claimed her, devouring her as if she was his last meal.

"You know how fucking long it's been without you?" His voice was a cross between a growl and an accusation. He dragged her body tight against his, pressing his heavy erection against her throbbing mound.

A low moan escaped as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can't wait."

"I should make you wait." He trailed kisses over her face, then caught her mouth with his again, a ruthless brand that sent the fire already burning between them out of control.

Isabeau nearly sobbed as she tried to pull his shirt off. "I can't wait, not another minute. I need you inside me." She was past all pride with him. It had always been like this when they came together. She had no control and didn't pretend any, not when he was grinding his heavy erection against her and her entire body cried out for his.

"You don't leave me again, Isabeau. You understand?" His voice rough, harsh even, a sensual, hungry sound that made her knees go weak.

His hands were everywhere, tugging at her clothes, sliding against bare skin, urging her to step out of her jeans when she was barely aware of what was happening. A few raindrops managed to slip through the broad, leafy canopy and

sizzle against her hot skin. The cool drops nearly burned, she was so sensitive.

His mouth was on hers again, hot and hungry, their tongues stroking caresses, dueling, while moans escaped to blend with the incessant shrill of the cicadas. Breath came in ragged gasps, and she couldn't get close enough, sliding her hands over his bare skin, yanking at the waistband of his jeans so she could slide her hand inside the material and stroke his thick arousal.

His breath exploded from his lungs. He cupped the soft weight of her breasts and bent his head. His golden eyes burned with liquid fire as he watched her watching his mouth descend. She'd forgotten how intense the sensation of his mouth on her breast could be. She shuddered, throwing her head back, arching her back to give him better access, a soft cry escaping.

His teeth tugged at her nipple and moisture pooled hot between her thighs. She shivered with pleasure, writhing under his mouth's assault. The way his teeth and tongue stroked over her breasts was addicting--intoxicating, so she felt almost drunk with pleasure. Streaks of fire whipped through her blood and licked at her hot core, driving her need beyond anything she'd known. She nearly sobbed, her nails digging into his hips, trying to connect their bodies.

"Say it for me, Isabeau. I want to hear you say you'll never leave me."

She would have promised him anything, and what he was asking was no more than she wanted with every breath she took. "Never, Conner."

"I'm holding you to your word."

Even the way he said it made her hotter, that was how far gone she was. He lifted her up, so that she was straddling his groin, and then he looped one thigh over his arm, forcing her completely open to him. He was enormously strong, his powerful thighs like twin columns supporting the both of them, his hands gripping her bottom. She felt the broad, flared head of his erection pressing into her entrance and she tried to push down, to claim him, but he held her just above her prize, the head lodged in her so she felt every inch of his slow, steady entrance.