Wild Fire (11 page)

“I know you will.” She kept her voice low, afraid of giving herself away. “Those were leopards, weren’t they?”

“Friends. I warned them they had two more coming at them. Rio’s got Adan safe.”

“The leopards aren’t real leopards,” she guessed. She should have known it was Conner’s friends answering his call. Isabeau let her breath out. Friends. They had friends in the midst of this madness. “Are they like you?”

“Like us,” he corrected and reached to pull leaves from her hair. “They’re like us, Isabeau.”

She didn’t move, absorbing the feel of his fingers in her hair. He had a way of making her feel special and cared for—protected and loved—yet she knew it was an illusion. She’d hired him for those traits—to seduce another woman with that magnetism. Now she wasn’t so certain she could watch him do it.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here.” The confession slipped out in spite of her resolve not to engage with him over the past.

His roughened palm cupped the side of her face, the pad of his thumb sliding seductively back and forth, nearly mesmerizing her as completely as his voice did. “No, you shouldn’t have, not if you wanted to be safe. But it’s too late for regrets. We’re already here and we’re in this mess all the way. We can’t leave those children to Imelda Cortez and we can’t pretend we’re indifferent. I expect a little hate, Isabeau, but that’s not all you feel for me and I expect honesty between us.”

Fire flashed through her, a storm of such heat she shook with it. “You
expect
honesty between us?
You
?” She poured contempt into her voice. “You wouldn’t know honesty if it bit you in the butt. Don’t you dare lecture me. You
lied
to me. Used me. Made me believe you loved me and we were going to have a life together. And then you killed my father. Everything about you is a lie, an illusion. You aren’t even real.”

Rage burst like a firestorm in her stomach, churning wildly, exploding in fiery conflagration she couldn’t—or didn’t—want to douse. There was a part of her that knew her sexual hunger was a good percentage of what was fueling the flames of anger—that the intensity of her righteous, feral anger was her cat’s heat and her absolute physical need of the dominant male standing in front of her, but it felt so good to throw the gun to the ground and swing her clenched fist at the smug male smirk, wanting to wipe it off his face.

Amusement crept into the amber of his eyes as he evaded her swipe, his teeth flashing at her. “Are you trying to hit me?”

“I’m going to kick your ass,” she spat back, circling around him, a slow hiss escaping her throat. His laughter only drove the flames of her fire higher.

“Hafelina.”
His voice smoldered with sex and her treacherous body reacted with a spasm of need.

“What does that mean?” she demanded and threw a kick at his thigh.

He slapped her foot away from him. “Little cat. And you’re behaving like one right now. I don’t want to hurt you, Isabeau, so stop this nonsense.”

“You think you’re the only one with training?” Now it was a matter of pride that she score a hit on him. Just one.

She attacked hard, a series of lightning fast kicks. He blocked every one with an almost casual slap of his hand. The taps stung, but didn’t really hurt. She didn’t take her eyes from him, a sexual fury manifesting itself in violent rage.

“Do you know what a cat does when she’s in heat and her male is circling her?”

His voice lowered an octave. Purred at her. Stroked her sensitive skin and found raw, burning nerves. Liquid heat scorched her. Her breasts ached. Her skin felt too tight, need and an angry hunger she couldn’t control mixing together.

“I’m not in heat,” she hissed, and drove in again, this time with her hands, throwing a left, a right and then an uppercut.

He blocked every move with an open palm, that same casual slap that was as maddening as the raw, edgy hunger that drove her need to attack him.

“Sure you are.” His voice dropped even lower and his eyes drifted possessively over her body. “You’re hot as hell. Your scent is driving me insane.”

She flushed, turning nearly crimson, and rushed him again. He sidestepped and caught her, spinning her around until her back was against him, her arms pinned to her sides, trapping her tight against his body. His scent was potent, wild, sexy. Every ragged breath burned through her lungs. Adrenaline was hot and liquid rushing through her veins.

She hissed again. He lowered his head, holding her in an unbreakable grip, his strength enormous. He lapped at the side of her neck, in a slow, languorous display of ownership, sending shivers through her entire body. Tongues of flames licked over her skin. His teeth scraped along her neck, down her throat and then his lips pressed against her ear.

“The female leopard always rebuffs her mate, giving him a show of claws, hissing and spitting like the little cat you are. All the while she’s seductive, driving her mate into a frenzy of hunger even as she pushes him away. Her body calls to his. Like yours does to mine. Do you know why,
Hafelina?
”

She went very still, sensing danger. Absolute danger. His teeth slid down her neck, nuzzled at her shoulder. “Because you belong to me.”

His teeth sank deep into the back of her neck, the pain and pleasure of it seared her heart, sizzled through her veins and scorched her most feminine core. Her womb spasmed, and clenched. Damp heat gathered between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing against him, almost desperate for relief. His knee came up between her legs, driving into her clenching heat. Sparks burst behind her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and every muscle in her body tightened. She nearly sobbed with the pleasure crashing through her body.

It was humiliating, but she couldn’t stop the way she moved against him, frantic now, every nerve ending raw. He growled a soft warning when she struggled. His mouth moved over her neck, his tongue swirling over the stinging bite, sending waves of scorching heat through her overloaded system.

“I’m your mate, Isabeau. Now. Always. There is nothing else. You belong to me and I belong to you. You don’t have to like it, but you can’t deny it. Your body knows it. Your cat knows. Fight me all you want, but you know it as well.”

She hated the knowledge in his eyes when she looked over her shoulder, into his heavy-lidded stare. He looked so sensual. So male. So intense. He looked at her as if he knew no one else would ever satisfy her. No one else could hold her so still, so hypnotized, his thigh rubbing over and into her, sending waves of pulsing need crashing through her. His hold was possessive. He rubbed his face over her neck, her shoulder, her hair, almost as if he was leaving his scent all over her. Claiming her. Warning off all other males.

Muscles bunched in her stomach, arousal teased her thighs and breasts, her breath turned ragged. A sob escaped. His body was full and heavy, pressing tightly with urgent demand against the small of her back. His scent filled her lungs. He was everywhere and her skin felt too tight, her clothes hurt.

Keeping her arms pinned with one arm wrapped tightly around her, his fist bunched in her hair and he dragged her head back. She looked into his golden eyes, dark now with heat. Intense hunger. So much possession. She watched his mouth come down toward hers and she should have moved—should have fought him—but her breath left her lungs in a rush and she was lost in her own need. His mouth was hard and demanding, a crush of command, a taking, a branding and she tasted lust, tasted sin and sex. She tasted
him.

She’d forgotten that addicting taste. Her mouth opened to him and she indulged her need, feeding there, feeling taken when all he was doing was kissing her, over and over, his lips rough, his mouth hot, his tongue stroking caresses into a fire that threatened to consume her. She heard her own strangled whimper, a sound of intense need escaping before she could think to prevent it.

She could no longer think clearly, her brain fogging over, her skull too tight, the throbbing beat of hunger like a jackhammer in her head. Her breasts ached, nipples hard and straining against the thin material of her bra. She couldn’t stop rubbing against him, needing the hard pressure of his thigh to relieve the terrible ache that wouldn’t stop, yet knowing it wouldn’t be enough until he filled her completely. His mouth moved on her shoulder—a burning brand and he whispered low and sexy in her ear.

“Stop fighting it,
Sestrilla,
let it happen.”

His voice, that sexy, velvet whisper of sin triggered the drenching orgasm that flashed through her body like a firestorm. She writhed in utter shame, as her heart slammed too hard in her chest and the waves of heat rippled and pulsed through her.

He knew. He knew what he did to her, she could hear it in the humming satisfaction rumbling in his chest, the purr emanating from his throat. Tears burned behind her eyes. She hated her lack of control, the raw need that tormented her in his presence. He should have been the last person whose touch she needed, yet here she was, a few hours in his company, allowing his touch—
craving
his touch.

How did she wrench her soul free from him? Take her heart back? Stop her body’s response? He’d left her empty. Broken. He was a terrible obsession she couldn’t get over, no matter how hard she fought. She had no idea how to stop the deadly hunger every time she looked at him. His voice alone triggered it. She was caught in his trap, in the illusion he wove and she couldn’t break free.

He’d leave her again. He’d come to the rain forest to seduce a woman.
She’d
brought him to the rain forest to seduce another woman.
And he’d taken the job until he knew she was the client.
What was wrong with her? Where the hell was her cat now? The treacherous animal coming close to the surface, revealing her heat, her hunger and then deserting when Isabeau needed her claws and strength the most. She felt limp. Shattered. Humiliated. She was no match for a man like Conner Vega. She wasn’t even in his league.

“Let go.” Her voice shook, but she got the words out. Her body shuddered with illicit pleasure even as it began cooling rapidly after the terrible burning need that had raged. She was left drained and sated and confused.

“Isabeau, look at me.”

The sound of his voice made her close her eyes like a child trying to block out the ghost that always haunted her. “Just let go.” Because if he didn’t, she was going to burst into tears and sob loud enough for any enemy in the vicinity to come running.

“Relax. We’re not out of the woods yet, honey. I can’t have you fighting with me when we’re in the middle of enemy territory. Just calm down for me.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Shattered. Broken. But calm.

5

“EVERYTHING will be all right, Isabeau.”

The devil’s whisper. That sinful, sexy,
lying
voice. She’d succumbed to his power the first time she was tested. At that moment, she despised the cat inside of her nearly as much as she hated her human self. Isabeau forced her body to relax, showing him the fight was gone.

Conner loosened his hold on her reluctantly, as if he didn’t quite trust her surrender. She glanced at his face and saw herself as a shadow in the reflection of his eyes. She felt like a shadow, insubstantial beside his power. She ducked her head, unable to face even just the shadow of herself. She never wanted to look in the mirror again.

“I’m your mate, Isabeau. There’s no shame between mates.”

She lifted her chin and stepped away from him, her knees rubbery, her heart still thundering. “You’re nothing to me. And whatever is happening to my body, has nothing to do with you. Any man would have been satisfactory.”

She made the mistake of looking at him. The amber in his eyes crystallized, turned gold and then yellow. Flecks of green merged, his pupils fully dilated and his stare focused and deadly. He stepped close to her, invading her space. If there was rage, it smoldered beneath the surface. His face was hard, mouth firm. A muscle bunched in his jaw, but his gaze held steady, a clear warning.

“Say whatever you have to say to keep your pride, Isabeau. Words don’t matter much. But you think long and hard before you endanger someone’s life. That’s on you. Mating is a higher law and there’s no getting around it. You can’t pretend it away. This is between us, no one else. We’ll work it out.”

She blinked rapidly to stop the burning tears. Damn him. He’d destroyed her. He couldn’t have known how deep a blow he’d struck. She wasn’t the kind of girl boys had flocked to when she’d been growing up. There were no dates or dances in school. Boys had rushed to her friends but never to her. Same with college. She had never discovered why others avoided her. She tried to learn the art of flirting, of conversation. She’d made it a point to be friendly, but she was always pushed aside and had finally accepted she wasn’t attractive to the opposite sex and women found her too intimidating to be her friend.

Conner had come along and made her feel beautiful. He’d made her feel wanted. Of course, his name hadn’t been Conner and he’d been lying to her about his feelings for her. And she should have known. Men like Conner, dangerous, magnetic, charming and sexy, simply didn’t look at women like Isabeau. He’d made love to her over and over, and all the time he’d been doing his job. Someone had paid him to seduce her in order to get close to her father.

The shame was overpowering. She felt like such a fool. To believe, after all the years of knowing that men didn’t find her attractive, that a man like him would fall head over heels for her was ridiculous. She felt almost like she deserved what happened to her for her own stupidity.

“You killed my father.” She flung the accusation at him, so mixed up she couldn’t breathe properly. Her breath came in ragged, harsh gasps, her lungs burning, as if she was starved for air. He sounded so calm. So in control. She wanted to slap his face all over again.

“I had nothing to do with your father’s death. That was his choice and you damn well know it. I told you before, I have enough sins on my soul, Isabeau, without you adding things I’m not responsible for.” He towered over her for a long moment, his expression grim, his eyes deadly, and then he drew in a breath and touched her hair with gentle fingers. “I know it’s difficult to be with me, but you’re doing fine.”