Savage Nature

  It took a few moments before she once again began to relax. "I've lived here all my life. If I hadn't accidently seen my brothers shift, I don' think I would have ever found out about leopards. It seems so far-fetched. Even now I have a difficult time actually believing the entire thing and look what's happened to me."

  "So you didn't tell anyone."

  "No. I know that was wrong, but Remy is a homicide detective. What if it was him? And maybe they had no choice."

  He blew warm air over her skin and nuzzled her shoulder over the vicious bite the male leopard had put there. "And the second body?" He brushed little kisses back and forth over the puncture wounds.

  "That one scared me. It was about two months after the first one and it was a little different. Only one boat and there were beer bottles nearby. I thought maybe they'd come there together, the killer and the victim, friends--and they got into an argument. The first man, I was certain it had something to do with criminal activity, but the second one didn't look that way, although he was stabbed in the stomach and suffocated with a leopard bite."

  Drake felt the tremor that ran through her body. "We'll figure it out," he said softly and pressed a kiss into the sweet spot where her shoulder and neck joined. She shivered and he felt the sudden electrical current surge between them. "What happened then?"

  "I wrote Jake Bannaconni a letter. I tried to word it so that if he really was aware of shifters or was one himself, he would realize what was happening and come out to Fenton's Marsh and investigate himself. I took the letter to the post office and put it in the outgoing mail. Two days later the letter was pinned with one of my fishin' knives to the bottom of my pirogue."

  "A warning."

  "I certainly took it that way. I was angry with myself for not being more careful with the letter. Anyone could have seen it."

  He took his time exploring that soft expanse of skin, kissing his way along her shoulder, his teeth teasing, scraping back and forth to send shivers down her spine before nipping gently. "And the third body?"

  "I couldn't help watching Fenton's Marsh, and about two months to the day after the second killing, the third body was there. This time it was in the water, anchored down. No one I recognized as a friend, but I'd seen him before, maybe in the French Quarter. I couldn't place him, but his face was familiar. I knew I couldn't just let it go, so I took a letter to the priest and asked him to get it to Bannaconni."

  "So the bodies have turned up every couple of months. Could there be others?"

  "Of course. There's a lot of water out there and alligators tend to eat anything they can find, especially if it's rotting meat."

  He tasted her soft skin, his tongue trailing over her shoulder, his lips following. He shifted position, keeping his hands on her shoulder as he partially shifted, allowing his leopard to emerge. He knew she would feel the sudden slide of thick fur against her skin, the hotter breath of the cat, but he was already sinking his teeth deep in the holding bite of the male leopard. He felt the female rise just below Saria's skin.

  Saria cried out, throwing her head back, her body writhing beneath his, but his legs trapped her thighs, holding her down. Her breath was shocked, gasping, her body burning under his touch. His male lunged for the female. The moment he felt the female leopard's acceptance, he shifted back, lapping at the punctures and pressing kisses along Saria's shoulder. Breathing deep, he pressed his forehead against the back of her neck.

  "It's done, honey. Your female will accept my male." There was no way she couldn't feel the urgent need of his body. He was pressed tightly against her, but he stayed very still, breathing away the lust that had risen sharp and fast and all too raw. He waited for her tears, for the recrimination he was certain would come. He refused to move from her, holding her close, trying to comfort her, when he knew he must have scared the hell out of her.

  She l beneath him, breathing hard, trying to still her hips as she pushed back against him, her breathing ragged. "Why was that so erotic when you did it?"

  He closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Very carefully he eased his body off hers, retaining his hold so he could roll her over against his side, wanting to see her face. She looked up at him with an enormous, wide-eyed stare. Her eyes were nearly all gold, and she looked a little dazed. Her mouth was parted and she was panting a little. She looked as if she'd just been made love to.

  "I don' understand what you do to me."

  "Whatever it is, Saria," he said softly, leaning down to brush a gentle kiss over her mouth, "I'm grateful. I didn't want to hurt you."

  "I felt her. She leapt toward you." There was wonder in her voice.

  Drake brushed the silky tendrils of hair falling over her forehead back from her face. "You're really beautiful, do you know that?"

  "No, I'm not. My mouth is too wide and my eyes are too big for my face. But thanks, you actually make me feel beautiful and I've never felt that before."

  His heart did that strange stuttering. She was so candid with him. The leopard in him appreciated that she didn't lie about her feelings. She might be struggling to understand, but she wasn't hiding from the intense, almost violent attraction between them. He'd seen intense physical attraction between other leopards and he'd certainly felt his leopard's reaction to women in the throes of the Han Vol Dan, but even he hadn't been prepared for the brutal needs that seemed to consume them both.

  "You're amazing in that you're not running as fast as you can from me. I couldn't blame you if you did."

  She flashed a smile and sat up. "I think whatever this is that's happenin' to me, I'd be takin' with me. I can't exactly run from myself, now can I? In a way, I feel a little sorry for you. You're sort of stuck with me, aren't you?"

  He linked his fingers behind his head. She had no idea--yet--what or who she'd tied herself to, but he was going to make certain she didn't regret her decision. He smiled at her. "I don't think you need to worry about me, honey. I'm a big boy."

  "Will the other male leopards be able to scent you on me?"

  "Yes. Including your brothers."

  She made a face. "Ouch. They'll have a few choice words to say to me--or you." She sent him a tentative smile.

  "They can say whatever they want to me, but they'd better be very careful what they say to you." His leopard growled low and mean. He knew his eyes had gone all cat. Possession edged his tone.

  She leaned down and brushed a kiss across his forehead. "I'll see you in the morning. I need to give all this a bit of thought." She smiled, shook her head and left his room without another word.

  6

  DRAKE knew he should have handled Saria differently. He had no ida exactly what he could have done under the circumstances when he was barely in control, but as he showered, he mentally kicked himself. She was probably crying in her room, terrified to come out and face him. He'd traveled the world; she lived in the swamps of Louisiana. He was older by a good ten years; she was young and inexperienced. He had grown up knowing the way of the leopard; she had no idea of the intense drives or the strict laws of their world.

  He swore and threw back his head, allowing the water to wash away his sins. What the hell had gotten into him? He'd taken advantage of her. He couldn't resist her and he'd known she was the one he belonged to. She hadn't known he was her mate though; she thought him the lesser of all the evils. She'd grown up with the men in her neighborhood, the other leopard families, and she thought those men were her only choices. He hadn't told her of all the lairs in the various rain forests. Clearly, even though he'd warned her, she hadn't known she was making a lifetime commitment, yet he'd marked her as his anyway.

  He had to get himself in hand. She was too young, innocent and inexperienced for a man like him, yet he knew with every single cell in his body that she was his mate. He turned off the water and toweled off. He told himself he was prepared for tears and recriminating looks. Maybe she'd try to walk off the job. He paused. Suppose she already had? What if she'd run in the early mornin
g hours? If she'd gone home to her five brothers there was going to be hell to pay. They'd smell his scent all over her and they would come looking for a rogue leopard, and they'd be out for blood.

  He dressed quickly and hurried down the hall to the room he knew Saria had slept in. He could hear the shower running. Some of the tension in his belly eased and he stood for a moment breathing deeply in the large circular library at the top of the stairs before he made his way down to the main sitting room. If Saria hadn't run from him, he had the chance to court her, to make her see she hadn't made a mistake in choosing him.

  In the meantime, he was going to have to conduct a dance with the innkeeper. She had heard the leopard fight the night before, there was no question about that. She'd also removed all evidence. Did she suspect him? He would have scented her had she been close enough to identify him before or after he shifted. Her perfume was distinctive, a blend of several fragrances, predominantly lavender. He found it unusual and pleasing, not sweet and cloying like so many others.

  Right now, the aroma of coffee and breakfast drifted through the house, guiding him straight to the formal dining room. Several silver warming trays were centered in the middle of the ornate table and three places were set.

  Pauline Lafont looked up from pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into wine glasses. She looked up with a smile when he entered.

  "Good morning, Miss Lafont," Drake greeted. "Quite the commotion last night. I have to admit, it felt a little like being in Africa."

  The innkeeper frowned. "I should have warned you the alligators get quite loud some nights. I didn't notice they were worse than usual, but I take a sleepin' aid."

  Drake's eyebrow shot up at the blatant lie, but he played his part of the city man not quite used to the noises in such a rural setting. "Really? You didn't hear that horrible cat fight last night?"

  The older woman shook her head. "We don' have a large feral population here. The gators keep them down."

  She gestured for him to sit and turned her back to him, preventing him from seeing her expression, but he was leopard and he could smell a lie--and she was lying. They had a feral population of large cats and she knew it. She was definitely covering up for the leopards. Her sister was married to a Mercier, one of the families he suspected of being leopard. She had a connection all right, and she was protecting them.

  "This was something big," he insisted, pulling out a high-backed chair.

  Saria skipped into the room, hair still damp from the shower, her dark eyes sparkling, skin glowing, looking like sunshine to him. Her faded blue jeans were worn and soft, molding to her curves. She wore hiking boots and a thin tee that hugged her breasts and slimmed her waist. For a moment he couldn't tear his gaze from her. She was so damned sexy and there was no forgetting the vision of her crawling across the floor toward him, her eyes fixed hungrily on his cock. He nearly groaned aloud and felt his body stir at the memory. He hadn't exactly gotten any sleep lying there, as hard as a rock. No cold shower and no amount of relief helped. Saria, damn her, looked as if she'd slept fine and was as fresh as the new morning.

  He studied her face, looking for signs of tears and guilt. She sent him a sunny smile, just as though nothing at all had happened between them. In fact, it was if she barely knew him other than as a client. That did a little damage to his ego, he had to admit. He'd almost rather have had her crying her eyes out than ignoring what had happened between them.

  It was only the awareness of Pauline scrutinizing him with a knowing grin that brought him out of his near hypnotic state. He sent Pauline a rueful grin and pulled out a chair for Saria.

  "Good morning," he greeted her, ignoring the desire to shake her up a little by kissing her perfect mouth. He'd spent a few hours in hell thinking about her mouth.

  "It's a beautiful morning," she said and dropped into the chair, seemingly as if she'd forgotten the night's events. "Miss Pauline, breakfast smells so good. I cut my shower short because my tummy kept rumbling." She blew the woman a kiss.

  Drake settled into a chair across the table from Saria. She was doing the right thing, but perversely, he wanted her attention. He had a crazy desire to leap over the table and kiss her just for the hell of it. Pauline got kisses, even if they were air kisses, but he went untouched.

  He forced himself to be casual as well. If Saria could act like they were client and guide, so could he. "This does look wonderful, Miss Lafont. I didn't expect you to get up so early and fix us something to eat."

  "I couldn't let you go out for the day without eatin' ," the innkeeper replied. "And please call me Pauline. Everyone else does."

  He turned his attention to the amount of food spread out on the table, determined to act as blase as Saria. Carefully he lifted each lid to look into the heated dish.

  "That's breaded, pan-fried trout fillet, poached eggs and hollandaise sauce," Pauline offered, a hint of pride in her voice.

  Saria scooted some onto her plate. "And no one makes it quite like Miss Pauline, Drake. You've got to tryI've worked for years to get this dish right. I'm nearly there, too, but not quite yet. I need a little more time to figure out the right seasonin'."

  He took a healthy helping, ignoring the drawling, sexy way she pronounced his name. "I can see I'll be gaining weight while I'm here," he said. "I do love to eat."

  Pauline beamed. "I love cookin'. Try some of my Creole rice cakes." She took the lid off another warmer.

  Both Saria and Drake helped themselves.

  "You have to try a couche-couche," Saria added. "It's Cajun-style fried corn meal mush, very yummy."

  Pauline poured them both coffee and added a large plate of hot beignets within reach of both of them. "The cream is fresh," she said. "You'll want that with your cafe."

  He grinned at her. "I suppose that means the coffee's strong."

  Saria nodded. "Cafe au lait is best with beignets anyway." She took a sip of the rich aromatic liquid and then a bite of the warm doughnut.

  He glanced at her and his heart nearly stopped. Her eyes were dark chocolate and laughing, the golden flecks brightly gleaming with mischief. The tempting bow of her mouth had a trace of white powdered sugar on it and he nearly leaned over the table to lick it off. She was so beautiful to him, so filled with life, so damned sexy he could barely breathe with wanting her.

  "You're eating dessert before you eat your breakfast." He tried to sound stern, but it was impossible when she was enjoying herself so much. She definitely was tucking into her food, unafraid of ruining her figure.

  "It's all about the calories, my friend," she said. "Eat up."

  He did lean across the table then, unable to stop himself, and brushed the powdered sugar from her mouth with gentle fingers, lingering a little, mesmerized by the softness of her full bottom lip. Her eyes went dark, desire flaring for a moment, just enough to satisfy him.

  Pauline cleared her throat, reminding him he wasn't alone with Saria. The innkeeper managed not to smirk at him. Drake cut her off neatly before she could switch subjects. "I was just telling Pauline about the horrible noises I heard last night. Something large was fighting or killing something else. It sounded like large cats to me."

  Saria didn't look up, fussing with her napkin. "That would be strange, Drake. We don' have large cats in the swamp anymore. The last one was shot in sixty-six, wasn't it, Miss Pauline? I remember mon pere tellin' us how sad it was."

  "There are legends," Pauline pointed out. "My sister's husband and his father were out fishin' when he was young and they claim they saw a panther, but if they did, it was a ghost, cuz there were no tracks left behind."

  "You have to get used to the sounds in the swamp," Saria added. "I'm often in the swamp at night workin' and it can be a little scary."

  His head went up. "What the hell are you doing in the swamp at night?" He looked to Pauline for confirmation. "She shouldn't do that, should she?"

  "No, she shouldn't," Pauline ou ternly. "What time did you come in last night? I didn't hear
anything."

  "Probably your sleeping aid," Drake pointed out helpfully. He helped himself to more trout and eggs. The woman was lying her ass off, but he appreciated how smoothly she did it and there was no sense in passing up a great meal.

  Saria leaned toward Drake with a laugh. "It wasn' her sleepin' aid, my man. I'm a ninja. No one ever hears me unless I wan' them to. I watched a lot of martial art movies, so if anythin' goes wrong, just get behind me and you'll be safe in that scary swamp."

  "I'll be sure and do that," he agreed. "Can you catch bullets with your teeth?" He liked her calling him "my man" rather than "my friend." It was probably just her way of speaking, but he'd take whatever he could get. It was rather pathetic to be looking for the smallest of signs that she was just as mesmerized by him as he was with her, but apparently he'd fallen much harder than he expected.

  "I haven't actually gotten that technique down yet," Saria admitted, laughing. She turned to Pauline. "I was in the swamp last night, tryin' to get pictures again. I've got a buyer interested in winter wildlife shots. The mood of the swamp is so different at night. I sat up in a blind for hours and got cold, but wasn't happy with most of the shots."

  "You were in the swamp last night?" Drake demanded. "Alone?"

  Saria shrugged. "I often go into the swamp alone at night."

  "Where are your brothers?" Pauline asked. "I bet they weren't home."

  Saria laughed. "It wouldn't have mattered if they had been. I do what I want. Remy has some big case he's workin' on. I think Mahieu is smitten with your niece, Charisse--he's been courtin' her recently--and the rest left to go give a hand on the river."

  Pauline looked pleased. "I would like that match, although Charisse seems a little frivolous for a man like Mahieu. I love her and she's very intelligent, but she's a little . . ." She trailed off and then laughed. "Kooky."

  "Bossy," Saria said at the same time. She laughed too. "Don' worry, Miss Pauline, Mahieu is bossy too. They might make a terrific match. Besides, she's a genius, isn't she? No one makes perfume, the exact right blend, like she does."