Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

him . . .
    Slightly bored, he glanced around the beautiful, elegant restaurant. A couple came through the door, catching his eye. For a moment time actually stood still, every muscle in his body paralyzed so that he was completely motionless. His heart seemed to stop beating. His breath stilled in his lungs until he couldn’t breathe.
    Emma. His Emma. For two long years, he’d waited patiently for her to come alive. And now she had, but for another man. Not for him. Emma dressed up for another man; not for him. Emma smiling up at a perfect stranger and draping her sweater over the back of her chair. There was no possible way to concentrate on what was being said at his all-important meeting, so Jake didn’t bother to try. Who gave a damn about a few million dollars and a traitor when his life had just gone up in flames?
    Emma looked beautiful. When he wrapped his hands around her throat, he’d be sure to tell her that.
    He’d come to catch a traitor, and the biggest one of all was the person he’d come to trust above all others.
    He was going to fire every damn bodyguard he had working for him. How dared they allow her off the ranch without a guard? Who was the son of a bitch who was trespassing on his territory anyway? Jake recognized the bastard as the man who’d come to his ranch and worked on the phones. He’d probably seduced Emma in Jake’s own office. The image of her on his desk—naked—rose up to taunt him, and he felt the shift inside, the leopard snarling and fighting for supremacy. For one terrible moment he wanted to give the leopard freedom, wanted him to feel his enemy’s throat torn and bleeding beneath the crush of his jaws.
    He rose, a fluid rippling of muscles, causing a sudden hush among his business associates. Without a word of explanation, he stalked across the room, carelessly loosening his tie, his eyes glittering gold, fixed on his prey. Emma glanced up, and her velvet eyes widened in surprise. Jake couldn’t detect the littlest bit of guilt. His fingers itched to punish her. Instead, he toed a chair around and very deliberately wedged it between theirs.
    With casual ease he bent his dark head to her silky red one to brush a lingering and very possessive kiss on her shocked mouth. He made certain he used tongue, lots of tongue, one hand anchoring in her hair, forcing her head up so he could take his time making his statement. A blatant brand of ownership.
    Color rose in Emma’s face and her eyes went emerald green, but she had sense enough not to pull away from him or fight. He let her feel the edge of his teeth on her soft lower lip before dropping into the chair, his mouth smiling, his amber eyes diamond hard. He extended his hand to the man. “Jake Bannaconni. I don’t believe we’ve met.” He remembered everyone, but he wasn’t about to let a rival believe himself memorable.
    “Greg Patterson.” The man was totally flabbergasted, his face pale beneath his tan. “We met the other day in your office.”
    Jake leaned back, stretched his arm casually around Emma’s chair. His fingers found the nape of her neck, began a slow, intimate massage. “So who’s at home with the kids, baby?” He spoke to Emma but his eyes were measuring the width of Greg Patterson’s hands against the marks on her skin.
    “Susan.” Involuntarily, Emma placed her hand over the smudges on her arm. Damn, the man saw everything. And his fingers were inducing a spreading heat in her body, one that she couldn’t possibly ignore.
    “You think she’s old enough to handle them?” There was a soft intimacy in his voice, one that excluded all others and wrapped them together.
    “She’s sixteen, Jake,” Emma reminded.
    Jake rubbed his knuckles along her jaw before turning his attention to Greg. “Where’d you two go tonight?” Jake’s voice was perfectly pitched, friendly, interested, filled with urban sophistication. The golden eyes were merciless, slashing, a cold, bleak, brilliant challenge as they settled in an unblinking stare on Patterson’s face.
    Patterson squirmed uncomfortably. “The movies.”
    Jake threaded his fingers through Emma’s, brought her palm to the warmth of his mouth, his eyes meeting hers. “Did you enjoy it, honey? You know you never should have left the ranch unescorted.”
    With absolute deliberation he bit down into the center of the palm. His eyes dared her to make a scene.
    She gasped, but he refused to relinquish her hand when she tugged. Instead, his