Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

like an old pro. “I’m fine. Crying always makes a person hot and sweaty.” She was too. And he smelled so good, fresh from a shower; she could always tell. His hair was damp and he smelled clean with a faint, elusive tang of wild.
    “That’s not good enough, Emma. Some women may just cry for no reason, but not you. Someone or something upset you. I intend to know what it was before I leave this room tonight.” He allowed her to slip out of his arms.
    She closed her eyes against the feel of the pads of his fingers sliding over her skin as she stretched out on the bed, giving him plenty of room so he wouldn’t have to touch her. “I guess you really don’t understand the concept of a locked door.”
    He shrugged, there in the near dark, rolling his broad shoulders in the casual way he always had. She was instantly aware of every muscle sliding under his skin. Emma squeezed her eyelids closed tighter.
    She drew in a breath and took him into her lungs.
    “Locked doors are for everyone else, honey.” He leaned over, brushed a kiss across her forehead and stretched out beside her.
    She realized how completely natural it felt. She’d been married to Andrew five months. She’d been with Jake for two years. He’d been coming to her room every single night, from the very first day she’d moved to his home. He’d held her that first night when she’d awakened with a terrible nightmare, the stench of fire and the heat of flames still so raw and vivid. His every gesture was more familiar to her than Andrew’s. When she remembered a man’s touch, it was Jake’s touch. When she burned at night for a man’s body, it was Jake’s body. When had that all started to happen? And why now? Why was she waking up now? She was terrified of the change, afraid she would lose everything.
    “Tell me about your parents. You don’t talk much about them,” Jake said.
    “My parents?” Emma echoed, startled. Her heart fluttered.

    His hand slid against hers, his fingers tangling with hers. She ached inside as he brought their joined hands to his chest, right over his heart. He always did that—tied them together. She was tied to him by far more than the children.
    “You do have parents, don’t you?”
    The rare amusement in his voice tugged at her heart-strings. She could feel his body, solid and warm right beside hers. She could count his steady heartbeats. “Of course I have parents. Do you think I crawled out from under a rock?”
    He brought her fingers up to his lips and bit down on the ends. His mouth was hot and moist and his teeth strong, although the bite was gentle and sent little tingles of arousal teasing along her thighs and belly. “I think you don’t want to tell me about your parents. Did you have a happy childhood?” He turned his head to look at her. “I just assumed that you did because you’re such a happy person.”
    She found herself smiling at him. “I did. My parents were very loving. We traveled a lot. My father had a difficult time settling down and we moved often. He was always restless. I’d come home from a friend’s house and we’d be packed up with everything already in the car. I rarely had time to say good-bye. We’d just leave.”
    “That must have been difficult.”
    “I wanted a home, you know, the traditional house with a yard like everyone else, and a regular school .
    . .”
    “You didn’t attend school?”
    Her gaze jumped to his face. His voice had been carefully neutral and he was looking at her fingers, absently bringing them to his mouth, nipping at the tips. “I’m very well educated, thank you,” she said, frowning, wary now.
    Her frown was wasted on him. He bit at the ends of her fingers, his teeth scraping back and forth. The sensation was intensely seductive, sending lightning lashing through her bloodstream. Her breasts ached. It didn’t help that she was ready for bed, without a bra, and the thin material of her pajama top rubbed against her nipples as they hardened into tight peaks. The look on his face was sensual but remote, as if sensuality was so inherent in his character that even when he wasn’t paying attention, women couldn’t help but feel his sexual heat.
    He suddenly turned his head to look at her and her heart quickened, pounding hard, her breath catching in her lungs. His golden eyes held possession, mesmerizing her, robbing her of speech. Her mouth opened, but absolutely nothing came out.
    “I know you’re educated. I just always