Leopard 04 - Wild Fire

anyone who betrayed her. He broke out in a sweat, fear permeating the room.
    “Perhaps we should close the door for privacy,” she suggested to her lone bodyguard.
    “Kill them,” Philip screamed to his guard. “Kill them all.” He dove behind his chair.

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    His guard brought up his automatic weapon, his face a mask of fear and determination. Conner killed him, swiping a claw across his throat and ripping the gun from his hand even as Rio and Leonardo took Marcos and Elijah to the floor, covering them. Both had drawn their guns, but they aimed at Philip and Imelda’s lone guard.
    She rose gracefully, stepped over the dead man and closed the door. “Very impressive. How did you do that?” She indicated the torn throat.
    Conner didn’t answer. He kept the others covered while Rio and Leonardo helped Marcos and Elijah to their feet. Rio yanked Philip up and all but threw him into a chair. Philip landed hard and pressed a trembling hand over his quivering mouth.
    “Thank you,” Imelda said, flashing Conner a coy smile. “You just saved my life.”
    He didn’t point out that he’d saved his own as well as his entire team. He barely inclined his head and for the first time allowed his gaze to drift lazily, a little insolently, over her body. He saw her breasts heave and her red-tipped nail traced a line from her throat to the swell of her breast. She shifted in the chair, allowing her gown to slide up her thigh. There were no underwear lines anywhere on the gown. She smiled at him, her tongue touching her lower lip.
    “I suggest we leave immediately,” Rio said.
    “Whatever for?” Imelda asked, still looking at Conner.
    “There’s a dead body on the floor, Imelda,” Marcos pointed out. “I don’t want my man questioned by the police, nor do I want to have anything to do with this. We can meet another time—perhaps in a more appropriate setting.” He started to rise.
    “No, no,” Imelda frowned. “We can easily take care of the body. It’s no problem, is it, Philip?” She sent him a poisonous smile. “Philip is a master at disposing of bodies, aren’t you, sweetie?”
    The man was so pale he looked like a ghost. “Imelda . . .”
    “Don’t,” she hissed, the smile vanishing. “You betrayed me.”
    “I didn’t.”
    She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and looked pointedly at her bodyguard. He immediately went to Philip and smashed the butt of his gun on the man’s head.
    Imelda smiled again. “I think we’re okay to talk, Marcos. I’ll handle the body and no one will ever know there was a problem. Philip will be found dead and the police will discover that he had quite the graveyard going. All those missing women over the years just might be found.” She crossed one leg over the other and swung her ankle, nearly kicking the dead guard where he lay on the floor in front of her.
    Conner had no idea whose bodies she was talking about, but the thought that she knew women were being killed and she did nothing about it sickened him. He had to leave soon or he was going to blow it and kill her right there before they ever got into her compound and found the children. He considered it.
    If she was dead, would anyone in her employ free the children, or kill them? It was too big of a risk to take.
    “No, no.” Marcos held up his hand. “We have to go now, Imelda. I’m not taking any chances with my man.” He pushed himself out of the chair and waved her off. “Elijah, we have to go now.”
    Rio was already on the move, indicating for Imelda’s guard to get out of their way.
    “Come to my home, Marcos,” she invited, desperate not to allow her opportunity to slip away. She could do business with both perhaps, and she wanted to see Conner again, have the chance to lure him away from Marcos. With Philip gone, she’d need a partner. He seemed cold enough, ruthless enough and just dangerous enough to be the one she’d been looking for.
    Marcos hesitated.
    “Both of you. And the little cousin. She seems to get along with my grandfather. He can entertain her while we talk.”
    While she spoke, her hand stroked her throat. Her eyes were on Conner, bright with promise. He didn’t respond, but his gaze slid over her, dwelled for a moment on her breasts, as though judging her. She went hot, flushing, going wet with just that single almost contemptuous perusal. So offhand. Like she meant nothing, but he was