Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

get you a glass of wine and I want you to sit on the couch in the middle of the room. People will come up and talk to you, probably even the enemies, so if you can’t handle it, give me a signal and I’ll get you out of the situation.”
    “But you need time.”
    “As much time as you can buy me.”
    “So, really, I’m the distraction to keep your enemies away from you.”
    He nodded. “I hate having to use you like this, but no one is going to talk if Trent or Cathy and Ryan are in on the conversation. The moment you sit down and I leave you, the three of them will be unable to resist and they’ll swarm around you like bees to honey.”
    “Which is why you didn’t want me leaving your side. You wanted to control when they approached me.”
    Jake studied her upturned face. It was difficult to read Emma at times. She seemed to be such an open book, yet right now, he had no idea what she was thinking. He caught her chin. “Are you upset with me?”
    “No, I know this is important, Jake.” She rolled her engagement ring back and forth on her finger. “But if we’re going to be partners, you’re going to have to start trusting me enough to talk to me about what’s going on.”
    “I don’t want trouble touching you.”
    She swept her hand around the room. “But it’s already touching me. And maybe the children. I want to be a partner to you, not another burden.” She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his chin. “Get me my wine. The sooner this is done, the better off we’ll be.”
    He squeezed her fingers, tucked her hand behind him and made his way through the crowd. People parted for him, opening a path to the bar. There were several bartenders. One was free, but Jake didn’t move forward. Another lifted his head to indicate he was ready but Jake ignored him. A third, Evan, served two people and Jake simply stood back, something out of character for him. Emma knew he expected—and got—instant service.
    “Red wine,” he ordered softly. “Something good.”
    Evan reached under the bar, ignoring the bottles already opened, and poured two glasses, handing them to Jake, not acknowledging Emma. The bottle disappeared back under the bar.
    Emma took the glass, letting him lead her to the leather sofa, which was occupied by several people.
    Jake stared at them until they moved. He sat her down and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “Wait right here for me.”
    Emma nodded and took a cautious sip of the wine. It was good, and she wasn’t that much of a wine connoisseur. She watched Jake walk away from her. There was something so fluid and confident about the way he moved, like water flowing over rock, nothing getting in his way. He was a formidable opponent, and it occurred to her, not for the first time, that she was in way over her head.
    “Ms. Reynolds?”
    Emma felt her stomach tighten. She forced a smile up at Cathy Bannaconni.
    “My dear, may I call you Emma? I feel so bad about our unfortunate first meeting and was hoping for an opportunity to apologize and maybe explain?” The older woman held out her hand, smiling bravely.
    Emma automatically took the woman’s hand. Cathy patted her hand and then pulled away. As she did so, her sharp, bloodred nail raked across Emma’s inner wrist.
    Emma’s hand jerked, although she managed not to spill her wine. A long, angry scratch beaded blood along her wrist.
    Cathy gasped. “Oh no! I’m so sorry. How clumsy of me. Let me get you a napkin.” She hurried away before Emma could protest, returning with a linen cloth dipped in cold water. “I really shouldn’t wear my nails so long. It’s just a weird little habit of mine.”
    Emma wrapped the cloth along the stinging scratch, holding the cool, soothing wetness against the angry slice. “I’m fine. It’s really nothing.”
    “You’re so sweet to be so understanding.” Cathy gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’m certain my son has told you all sorts of stories about me. Now I’ve probably added to my terrible image after our disastrous first meeting.”
    “Jake doesn’t talk about you,” Emma said.
    Cathy’s eyes narrowed. She inhaled sharply. A slow, humorless smile curved her mouth. “That’s good, dear. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I was so concerned about my grandson. Jake can be quite cruel.” Her gaze dwelt on the fading bruises still evident on Emma’s skin. “But having lived with him these past two years, I’m sure you’re already very aware of