Wild Cat

Praise for Christine Feehan's Leopard Novels

“[A] dark and seductive paranormal romance series.”

—HeroesandHeartbreakers.com

“Hot-blooded . . . intense and thrilling . . . You don't want to miss it!”

—Joyfully Reviewed

“With a Feehan novel you know you will get well-developed characters and an engaging plot, so when you add a dose of sizzling sexuality, you have an unbeatable mix.”

—
RT Book Reviews

“Heady, passionate, seductive . . . Ms. Feehan does a fantastic job of building up to the climax for a smashing finale that leaves you breathless and satisfied.”

—Smexy Books

“Readers . . . will be seduced by this erotic adventure.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“Another wild ride . . . enter the lair of the shapeshifters.”

—Romance Reviews Today

“A passionate, jam-packed adventure.”

—Fallen Angel Reviews

“The passion runs high and the sex is hot!”

—The Romance Readers Connection

“Sizzling and exciting . . . surprises erupt at every turn.”

—Fresh Fiction

“A phenomenal story . . . Christine Feehan knows how to weave a tale of action, suspense and paranormal passion that has earned her so many fans and keeps bringing new ones.”

—Romance Junkies

Titles by Christine Feehan

VIPER GAME

SAMURAI GAME

RUTHLESS GAME

STREET GAME

MURDER GAME

PREDATORY GAME

DEADLY GAME

CONSPIRACY GAME

NIGHT GAME

MIND GAME

SHADOW GAME

 

 

HIDDEN CURRENTS

TURBULENT SEA

SAFE HARBOR

DANGEROUS TIDES

OCEANS OF FIRE

 

 

WILD CAT

CAT'S LAIR

LEOPARD'S PREY

SAVAGE NATURE

WILD FIRE

BURNING WILD

WILD RAIN

 

 

EARTH BOUND

AIR BOUND

SPIRIT BOUND

WATER BOUND

 

 

DARK GHOST

DARK BLOOD

DARK WOLF

DARK LYCAN

DARK STORM

DARK PREDATOR

DARK PERIL

DARK SLAYER

DARK CURSE

DARK HUNGER

DARK POSSESSION

DARK CELEBRATION

DARK DEMON

DARK SECRET

DARK DESTINY

DARK MELODY

DARK SYMPHONY

DARK GUARDIAN

DARK LEGEND

DARK FIRE

DARK CHALLENGE

DARK MAGIC

DARK GOLD

DARK DESIRE

DARK PRINCE

Anthologies

EDGE OF DARKNESS

(with Maggie Shayne and Lori Herter)

DARKEST AT DAWN

(includes
DARK HUNGER
and
DARK
SECRET
)

SEA STORM

(includes
MAGIC IN THE WIND
and
OCEANS OF FIRE
)

FEVER

(includes
THE AWAKENING
and
WILD RAIN
)

HOT BLOODED

(with Maggie Shayne, Emma Holly, and Angela Knight)

LOVER BEWARE

(with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)

FANTASY

(with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)

Specials

DARK HUNGER

MAGIC IN THE WIND

THE AWAKENING

An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

WILD CAT

A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

Copyright © 2015 by Christine Feehan.

Excerpt from
Spider Game
copyright © 2015 by Christine Feehan.

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

JOVE® is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

The “J” design is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

For more information, visit
penguin.com
.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-19773-2

PUBLISHING HISTORY

Jove mass-market edition / December 2015

Cover images by Shutterstock.

Cover design by George Long.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Tarah, who loves Leopards!

Be sure to go to christinefeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my PRIVATE book announcement list and download the FREE ebook of
Dark Desserts
. Join my community and get firsthand news, enter the book discussions, ask your questions and chat with me. Please feel free to email me at [email protected]. I would love to hear from you. Each year, the last weekend of February, I would love for you to join me at my annual FAN event, an exclusive weekend with an intimate number of readers for lots of fun, fabulous gifts and a wonderful time. Look for more information at fanconvention.net.

With any book there are many people to thank. In this case, the usual suspects: Domini, for her research and help; my power hours group, who always make certain I'm up at the crack of dawn working; and of course Brian Feehan, who I can call anytime and brainstorm with so I don't lose a single hour. A special thanks to Irma Camargo for my Spanish endearments. If I got anything wrong, that's totally on me. For the salsa and dip recipes, thanks to Irma Camargo (the above Irma's mother) for her help, and again, I certainly hope I made them correctly.

When I was a child growing up, my mother would tell me stories of when she was young and first married to my father. She married him never having cooked or held a baby. One day while he was gone working, she wanted to surprise him with one of his favorite meals. She burned her hands on the chilies and he came home and was
very
upset with her, but of course he took great care of her. I always wanted to retell that story because I loved it so much. Irma Camargo (the mother) allowed me to do so by providing me with the recipes so Elijah would have to take very good care of Siena.

“S
IENA,
bella
, come see your old
nonno
for a minute.”

Siena obediently dropped her car keys on the table and hurried into the sitting room her grandfather preferred. The room was cozy and always just a little too warm. As a rule that didn't bother her, but for some reason lately, her body seemed overheated. She was restless and edgy and
hot
. Very hot. Her skin ached, felt too tight, stretched over her frame. Even her jaw hurt. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, and for the first time in her life, she burned between her legs. Like crazy. It was awful.

The condition seemed to come and go at will for no apparent reason. It had started a couple of weeks earlier and was getting significantly worse. She was grateful she had just earned her master's of science in oenology and had come home, although being in the same room with her beloved grandfather when her body was on fire was decidedly uncomfortable.

She needed to get out of the house—immediately. Lately,
the condition had gotten so bad she was seriously thinking about visiting an adult store and getting herself a toy. A really good one. Sheesh. She'd never looked at a man like that. Well, that wasn't strictly the truth. She'd once seen Elijah Lospostos when she was fifteen. They sat across from each other at a dinner when she'd been home from boarding school. He was at least eight years older than her. Maybe ten. It hadn't mattered. The moment she'd laid eyes on him, something wild unfurled deep inside of her. She'd barely been able to keep her eyes off of him. He was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.
Ever.
And her grandfather employed a lot of men.

She tried as hard as she could not to stare at him, but sometimes she'd felt his gaze on her, and every time she'd looked up, his eyes were looking at her. There was no mistake. He smiled. She didn't. She blushed. A horrible reaction. He'd tried to engage her in conversation and she'd stammered. Blushed more. It had been horrible. She was smart. Brilliant. She was already doing college courses. And she couldn't say a single intelligent word to him. Even the memory embarrassed her.

“What is it, Nonno?” she asked, bending to brush a kiss along his jaw. She ruffled his hair. He still had a wild mane of hair. All silver, but thick as a cat's pelt. His eyes, a dark chocolate, were faded, but still sharp. “I'm off to the gym.” Because she really, really needed to work out hard. Tire herself to the point of exhaustion so she could actually get some sleep. She was desperate for sleep.

“I need a favor,
bella
, a small one for an old man, eh?” he coaxed.

As if she had ever in her life turned him down when he asked her for something. She was rarely at the house. She had been in boarding school most of her life and then college, but she treasured her times at home with him. He was her only living relative. It was just Antonio Arnotto and his granddaughter. The two of them.

“What would that be, Nonno?” she asked, trying to sound
stern. She knew she failed when the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. She sank down onto the arm of his chair and ruffled all that silver hair again.

“I want you to take a case of my best reserve to a friend. His birthday was last week and I forgot to send a gift around. My beautiful granddaughter delivering it personally will make up for this mistake, no?”

She laughed. “It seems you have a lot of friends with birthdays and anniversaries you forget until your granddaughter comes home.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I'm not getting any younger, Siena, and you might start thinking about marriage and babies. Come to think of it, Elijah isn't married, and
he's
not getting any younger. He's quite good-looking.” He winked at her.

She bit down on her lower lip to try to keep from blushing. Just the mere mention of Elijah's name set her heart pounding and her stomach whooshing a slow somersault. He
was
good-looking. Hot. Gorgeous. And way out of her league. She wasn't going to tell her grandfather that.

“Stop being a matchmaker. You'll get your babies in due time, I promise.” Maybe sooner than he wanted if her body didn't stop with the meltdown-frantic-for-sex-
now
routine.

She'd taken to looking at her grandfather's bodyguards. And his number one man, Paolo, the man her grandfather dreamed of having her marry. Paolo watched her all the time. He always had. His gaze burned through her. He was good-looking and always very polite to her, but she knew he was a hound dog. He went through women, and word was, he wasn't very nice about it. She'd heard rumors from some of the maids and the cook that he ruled his women with an iron fist. She wasn't hooking up with him, even though she knew he was more than willing.

“I'm not getting any younger,” he repeated, patting her hand. “Be a good girl and deliver the wine for me. Give Elijah my best. Tell him not to be such a stranger and to drop by once in a while to see an old man.”

“I will, Nonnino,” she murmured and kissed the top of his head.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her stomach tightened. She knew without turning her head that Paolo Riso had stepped into the room. He was all roped muscle and fluid grace, and for such a big man he moved in complete silence. She knew he was very intelligent, and her grandfather relied heavily on him. She had always gotten along with him, even liked him when she was younger, but the last few years she'd visited home, he made her very uncomfortable.

She turned her head and forced a smile. His eyes were on her. Gleaming. Watching. Hooded. Holding secrets. Secrets she was certain involved her—none of them good. He was very close to her grandfather, and her grandfather treated him as he might a son. She wanted to love him for that alone, but instead, each time she came back home, she found herself becoming more and more uneasy around him.

Not like her grandfather's second-in-command. Alonzo Massi made her entire body tense, shiver even, with revulsion. The man's body was massive with ropes of muscle, and he was just plain scary. His eyes were always following her around, and he appeared as cold as a snake. She wasn't certain what kind of job he actually did for her grandfather, but she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the winery.

“Hey, Paolo.” She gave him a smile. She was very good at smiling and making it seem genuine. “How's it going?”

“Good,
bella
.” Paolo moved right to her.

She forced air through her lungs, knowing what was coming. He was getting bolder and bolder, and always in front of her beaming grandfather, who clearly approved. He took both hands and pulled her to her feet. Pulled her into him. He leaned down, and she turned her face slightly so his lips brushed her cheek rather than her lips.

Deep inside something that was out of control and wild leapt toward the surface. She was shocked and pulled back, although Paolo didn't release her hands. He stared down at
her face and there was speculation there. His eyes changed color, yellow flecks spreading through the dark brown until they almost looked like a cat's. Wholly focused on her. Unblinking.

Heat moved through her body. This wasn't good. She tugged on her hands to get him to release her.

“I have to go. Nonno asked me to run an errand for him, and I want to get to the gym tonight as well.”

Paolo frowned. He didn't release her hands, but looked over his shoulder at her grandfather. “Perhaps someone else should run the errand, Antonio.”

There was something very subtle in his voice. A warning. An order? Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Siena very firmly pulled her hands away, not bothering with being polite. She always thought the infamous Arnotto temper had skipped her, but right then she knew it hadn't. Edgy and restless turned to fierce and formidable. She drew herself up—and wished she was wearing her heels—but she could look haughty without them and she gave Paolo her best princess to peasant look.

“I told Nonno I would take the gift to Signor Lospostos and I will.” She tossed her head, the long mane of very thick hair flying around her face and down to her waist. Bending down, she skimmed another kiss on her grandfather's head and then left the room with a small wave. “
Addio
Nonnino
. Addio
, Paolo, please take care of Nonno for me.”

She ran back upstairs to her room without a backward glance. If she was delivering wine to Elijah Lospostos, arguably the hottest man in the universe, then she was going to take a little care with her appearance. She quickly stuffed her gym clothes in a bag and changed. She didn't want to look like she went all out. He probably wouldn't even notice her, but still, she was going to look good.

Siena knew she was pretty. She looked in the mirror, and she knew. She had great skin. Perfect skin. Italian skin. Her eyes were unusual. Very large, shaped like a cat's, so she looked exotic to people. They were green. Not just any green;
a deep, pure brilliant green, and she had lush, thick, very black eyelashes. She was blessed with those eyes.

She had the most annoying hair in the world, although even she had to admit it was beautiful. There just was too much of it. It grew and grew and never seemed to stop. She'd tried cutting it, but that seemed to make it grow faster and even thicker than ever, so she gave up and just went with the old-fashioned look. Thick, rich, luxurious, her hair fell well past her waist in waves. It was impossible to tame, so she mostly wore it up when she was home, pulled back in a ponytail or braid. At school, of course, she had to appear a little more sophisticated, so she used updos of intricate braids spun in all kinds of lovely knots.

Her nose was straight, her cheekbones high and her mouth a little too generous, but she did have straight teeth without having to go to the orthodontist. She was short. There was no getting around that. She had tried to gain a few inches by hanging upside down on the bars when she was a child, but that hadn't helped at all. She had a small waist and a narrow rib cage, but along with that generous mouth, her hips and breasts were a little bit on the generous side too. No matter how much she worked out or watched what she ate, she had curves. Lush curves.

She sighed. She'd seen Elijah with a tall, thin model once, coming out of a coffee shop. The woman had blond hair and blue eyes. His arm was around her and they were laughing together. She saw him in the distance at another party her grandfather had thrown when she was sixteen, and another one at nineteen, and he'd had a different model on his arm. Tall. Thin. Beautiful. Blond. And yet again, a few years later in a magazine. Tall. Thin. Beautiful. Blond.
Again.
He had a type and that type was
so
not her. She was short and dark and totally curvy. She looked even younger than she was, not at all sophisticated. She knew when she delivered the wine, Elijah would look at her like she was a little kid, like he always
did. Antonio Arnotto's little granddaughter. Still, she was determined to go looking her best.

She chose soft, vintage faded jeans and a camisole that was pale green with satiny straps. The camisole emphasized her small rib cage and tucked-in waist. The color was great against her skin and really brought out her eyes. The only real problem was shoes. She wore heels all the time. She hesitated, looking at a pair of strappy green designer heels, her favorite paired with the camisole. She didn't want to look as if she were trying to be his type. Still, she needed confidence and heels gave her that. She shrugged and strapped them on.

Biting her lip, she stared at her wild hair. How in the world was she going to tame all that hair? There was nothing else for it on such short notice. She swept it all back away from her face into a long ponytail. She left all jewelry off.

Looking into the mirror, she practiced. “I'm on my way to the gym and just stopped by to deliver your birthday gift from Nonno
.
I'm sorry it's late, but my school didn't let out until this week and Nonno likes me to personally deliver . . .” Siena groaned. That made her sound like a silly schoolgirl when she was twenty-four. “Damn it,” she whispered, and turned away from her image. She
looked
like a silly schoolgirl. She needed a lot more inches and a lot less curves to be the type Elijah Lospostos went for, so really, why was she bothering?

She caught up her gym bag and hurried down the stairs before she did something crazy like change her clothes again. She rushed back toward the sitting room her grandfather seemed to occupy more than ever these days, but stopped abruptly when she heard the whispered but furious conversation between her grandfather and his first-in-command. They kept their voices low, but lately she'd noticed her hearing seemed to be very acute. At the same time, her vision messed up, so that she saw in weird bands of color. Whenever that happened, she felt restless. Edgy. Need burned hot and wild between her legs.

She held the back of a chair just outside the sitting room, her grip so hard her knuckles turned white. She took in long, deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control. Her bones ached. Her fingers curled, and she felt that strange feral entity unfolding deep inside of her. Her skin itched, a terrible wave that refused to stop, and she swore something was pressing on her from the inside out, needing to escape. She was afraid of that something. It was wanton, hungry and in terrible need.