Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

been dead. If not me, Joshua or Conner. You did what you had to do by stopping him. We don’t have to like harming others or ending life, but we had no choice if we wanted to survive.”
    “I didn’t know that was a part of me, that I could be like that.” She lifted her head and looked at him.
    “It is a part of me, isn’t it?”
    “Yes. And I’m grateful. I saw it in you the day Cathy came to try to take Kyle. I know you can protect the children if you have to. And I know you love me enough to do something that abhorrent to you. No one has ever loved me, Emma. No one. Believe me, more than any other person on the face of this earth, I know what a gift that is. Spend the rest of your life loving me, Emma and I swear you’ll never be sorry.”
    “I said yes.”
    “Say it again and say we can arrange it immediately.”

    “You’re so relentless when you want your way.”
    His white teeth gleamed at her and his golden eyes went molten as his hips began to move again in hers. “Always,” he agreed, unrepentant.
    Emma laughed and rose up to meet him. “Yes, a million times over.”
    Turn the page for a sneak peek at
    HIDDEN CURRENTS
    the next novel in the Drake Sisters series by Christine Feehan Available in July 2009 from Jove Books!
    “HAVING fun, Sheena?” Stavros Gratsos rubbed his palms up and down Elle Drake’s bare arms to warm her as he stood behind her at the railing of his large yacht.
    All around them the sound of laughter and snatches of conversation drifted past her out to the shimmering Mediterranean Sea.
    Sheena MacKenzie, Elle’s undercover name—and her alter ego. Sheena could sit at any dinner table and rule, her polish and sophistication and air of mystery guaranteeing she’d get attention. Devoid of makeup and with her hair in a ponytail, Elle Drake could slide into the shadows and disappear. They made a nearly unbeatable combination, and Sheena had done exactly what Elle needed her to do—
    she’d lured Stavros and kept him interested long enough for Elle to poke around in his glamorous life and see what she could turn up, which so far was . . . nothing.
    Elle couldn’t read Stavros’s thoughts and emotions the way she did others when they touched her, and that amazed her. Elle’s psychic ability to read thoughts was disturbing most of the time, but there were a very few who seemed to have natural barriers, and she had to purposely “invade” if she wanted to see what they were thinking. Elle rarely intruded, even when she was using her undercover persona, Sheena MacKenzie. But she would have made an exception in Stavros’s case. She had been investigating him for months and had found nothing either to clear him or to point toward his guilt.
    She glanced over her shoulder at Stavros. “It’s been wonderful. Amazing. But I think everything you do is like this and you know it.” Stavros always put on the best parties and his yacht was bigger than most people’s homes. He served the best food, had the best music, surrounded himself with intelligent, fun people.
    In all the months she’d been watching him, she had yet to discover even a hint of criminal activity.
    Stavros had been kind and generous, giving millions to charities, supporting art and working out deals with his employees in a hands-on discussion that avoided laying off an entire group of workers. She had come to respect the man in spite of earlier suspicions, and she was ready to go back to Dane Phelps, her boss, and write a very strongly worded report that the rumors concerning Stavros were wrong—except that his aura indicated danger and a strong penchant for violence. Of course, some of the men her sisters had chosen as their mates had that same vivid color swirling around them.
    “I held this party in your honor, Sheena,” Stavros admitted. “My elusive butterfly.” He tugged on her arm to turn her around so that her back was against the rail and she was caged in by his body. “I want you to come to my island with me, to see my private home.”
    Her heart jumped. According to rumor, Stavros never took any woman to his island. He had homes all over the world, but the island was his private retreat. Any undercover operative would have relished the opportunity to enter Stavros’s private sanctum, but her boss had been adamant that she not go if the opportunity presented itself. There was no way to communicate from that island.
    Stavros took her hand and carried her knuckles to his mouth. “Come