Leopard's Rage (Leopard People 12)

“That’s just insulting,” Ania said.

Sevastyan laughed. “You love this shit. Poor Mitya. He has no idea.”

“He knows. He just doesn’t like it.”

Sevastyan found himself running Flambé’s palm up and down his thigh, pressing it deep. His body felt hot. His cock ached. He couldn’t help the way his body reacted when there was danger. Adrenaline translated to sexual hunger every time for him. “We’re going to be fine,” he assured her.

She nodded, not pulling her hand away. “I’m sure we will.”

He glanced down at her face. Flambé wasn’t the hysterical type. She was used to danger. She had no problem walking right into the throat of her enemy, but she was the one doing the planning, being in control. It was an altogether different situation relying on someone else when the stakes could be life or death. He understood that. She gave herself to him in the bedroom, but this was a different matter.

He brought her hand up to his mouth. “I really didn’t expect him to hit us this soon, Flambé, or I wouldn’t have brought Ania with us. Mitya’s going to have my hide for this.”

“You deserve it too,” she said, looking up at him.

There it was again, that brief look, a shadow in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. It had slipped in sometime while she was at his cousin’s home and there was a distinct wariness in her that hadn’t been there before. It was so slight, almost hidden. She was used to hiding her nature from others so whatever she was suddenly leery of was going to be difficult to ferret out if she didn’t want to disclose it.

The car braked suddenly, the back end sliding around in a perfect U. They ended up going the opposite way they’d been driving. Sevastyan glanced out his window to see Ania threading a narrow proverbial needle between the Porsche and an SUV as those two vehicles tried to brake. She sped up and headed toward a cross street that would bring her to another road back to their original destination where Sevastyan’s men had set up an ambush.

“Nice move, Ania.” Sevastyan would never get over her driving abilities.

Mitya was insane not to use her capabilities. She loved driving and she had mad skills. Most of the time she traveled with her husband. He wanted her in the back seat so he could have sex with her. Not that Sevastyan blamed him now that he had Flambé and knew what it was to have his own woman close.

The way his rage had manifested itself into sexual needs had always been a problem and he knew it always would be. The older he had gotten, the harder his body drove him. He practiced disciplined arts to help, but eventually, he was driven to go to the club in spite of the dangers of his leopard. He was always very, very careful. There were many couples there, men who enjoyed watching their woman tied and taken—their women willing to be tied and taken. That was always his number one rule. She had to be willing. He always made certain. He asked her himself away from her partner. Checked her pulse to make certain there was no coercion.

His ropes were easy to remove, and the partner knew how and there were always scissors to cut the woman loose right there. Cain was in his office or on the premises watching if there was a problem once Sevastyan walked away. That way, Shturm had no chance of escaping, no chance of harming the woman, not even at Sevastyan’s most vulnerable moment. He was always very, very careful. He never faced the woman. Never kissed her. Never did anything that would set the leopard off. It was never the most satisfying sexual experience, but it got the job done.

Until Flambé. Sevastyan stroked a caress through her hair, wishing they were home and he could talk to her. He wasn’t used to doing anything but giving orders. He had the feeling that wasn’t going to work in this case.

Ania, in the driver’s seat, let out a string of unladylike words. “Clever bastards. They considered we might use this road. Apparently, you have before.”

Sevastyan could see that two cars were blocking the street just ahead. Ania only had seconds to make a decision on what to do. Already the Porsche and SUV were coming in behind her. Flambé’s breath exploded out of her lungs, but other than that, she made no sound. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

Ania spun the car and raced back straight at the Porsche as if playing chicken. Flambé put her hands over her eyes. Sevastyan stared calmly out the front windshield. There was no way whoever was driving that vehicle would be willing to go back to Franco and tell him that they had killed Flambé. Matherson made it clear he wanted her alive.

“I’m so sorry I brought him into your lives,” Flambé whispered. “He isn’t going to stop.”

“No, he won’t. Even if he managed to get his hands on you, baby, he’d still go hunting other leopards. He likes it or he wouldn’t be doing it. There’s no reason to kill other leopards. None at all. There’s something very wrong with him. His lair should have taken care of it a long time ago.”

Sevastyan tried to comfort her even as he watched the driver of the Porsche desperately pull his vehicle hard to the right while his passenger threw his arm up as if that would save him if the two cars collided at the high rate of speed Ania was traveling. Ania’s car sped on past and raced around the bend, back up the slight hill toward the freeway.

“What do you want to do, Sevastyan? Call it off or go to the cul-de-sac by Evangeline’s home one more time?”

“Try the lane. Prune Lane. That’s where the boys have set up. If our company doesn’t follow, we’ll head into the city. Mitya’s pretty pissed, but apparently he was following us anyway.”

Ania laughed. “I’m not surprised.”

Nothing seemed to phase his cousin’s wife. His own wife was going to think twice before she crossed him, especially in matters of her safety. He glanced down at the top of her silky head. She wasn’t saying much, but she kept looking behind them, watching to see if they were being followed.

“We want them to come after us,” he said gently.

“We do?” There was trepidation in her voice. “Sevastyan, there were two men in the Porsche. I saw three in the SUV. I couldn’t see into the other two cars, but you have to figure at least two men in each. So, at least nine men, maybe more. Even with Kirill, Matvei and the two others I don’t know, we’re outnumbered. And what are we going to do with them anyway? Ania’s a good driver. A great driver. She can get us out of here. We’ll lose them and go back to the house. I can call Brent and tell him I have to reschedule. He’ll understand. It will be Cain who might be a problem, but I can handle him.”

Sevastyan’s eyes met Ania’s in the rearview mirror just for a moment. He flicked his gaze toward the right, away from the freeway and back toward Prune Lane.

“Cain? Why would he be a problem?” His hand settled around Flambé’s nape to begin a slow massage, attempting to ease the tension out of her.

“The plants are for his club, his garden of paradise. They’re exotics and we’ve been waiting for some time for them to come in. It hasn’t been easy to get them. I have to have an open time to go to the club when no one is there. He doesn’t shut down that often. Coordinating our schedules isn’t that easy, but this situation is ridiculous.”