Leopard 04 - Wild Fire

bed.
    Conner lay on his side, one elbow propping him up while his other hand stroked caresses through her wild mane. She was right about her hair. The strands had dried into a riot of curls he found intriguing. She usually wore her hair sleeker, hiding her untamed look. He liked her wild side.
    “I’ve been thinking, Isabeau,” he murmured, watching the moonlight play across her face. “Neither of us have family anymore.”
    “You have a brother.”
    It was an unexpected body blow. “I do. I didn’t think about that aspect—of what I’d be asking of you.”
    Her lashes veiled her eyes. “And what would that be?”
    “Well, of course I have to take the boy in. Raise him myself. He’s only five years old. If you were with me, I’d be asking you to be a mother to him.”
    She made a small sound, much like a sigh. “I’m way ahead of you, Einstein. Of course we’ll raise him, what else would we do? Your mother would haunt us forever if we didn’t. Besides, I’ve met him. He has your eyes and mop of hair. He’s a darling boy. Now go to sleep.”
    He continued to play with her hair, watching her breathe. The long expanse of her skin looked soft and Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    tempting in the moonlight. The ache in his groin was pleasant, not painful, and he rather enjoyed just lying there, his body spooning hers, his cock tight against the crack of her butt, his thighs pressed against hers.
    This would be his nights. Isabeau in his bed. He looked down at her breasts, the nipples soft and inviting.
    Someday a child of his would nestle there and feed and it would be the most beautiful thing in the world.
    “Marry me, Isabeau.” His hand left her hair to cup her breast, his thumb brushing lazily back and forth across her nipple, knowing he was sending tiny sparks of arousal straight to her clit. He kept his touch gentle and undemanding.
    She kept her eyes closed. “I already said I would. Now go to sleep.”
    “Marry me tomorrow, Isabeau,” he whispered, his hand stilling, his palm curling around her breast to just hold the soft weight.
    Her lashes lifted then. She blinked and turned her head enough to look over her shoulder at him.
    “Tomorrow?”
    “I want you to be my wife. Neither of us has family—other than the boy. The team is our family. The doc could arrange it for us. My guess is this valley is made up of leopards. The doc would only settle where his expertise would help his own people. I want to know that you’re waiting for me at the other end of this thing.”
    She rolled over slowly and pressed her hand to his face. “Conner. I love you. I know what you have to do to get those children back. And I know it makes you feel dirty and not worthy of me, but it makes you more so. Don’t you see that? You’re an extraordinary man to risk what we have for the safety of others. I meant what I said when I told you I stand behind you one hundred percent. You tell me what to do to help you and I’ll do it.”
    “Marry me tomorrow. Be my wife. That would help me.”
    She swallowed. He watched the motion of her throat, intrigued that she would be nervous when he knew she was so committed to him. He stroked his fingers down her throat and felt that convulsive swallowing and then traced her lips with the pad of his thumb and felt them tremble. “What is it, baby?” He kept his voice soft and low, intimate. “Are you afraid?”
    She blinked rapidly again. “I just have a difficult time sometimes . . .”
    “With . . . ?” he prompted, his hand shaping her breasts again and then sliding down to rub small circles on her belly.
    “With believing that a man like you could really be satisfied with a woman like me.”
    His hand stilled. He stiffened. “What the hell does that mean, Isabeau?”
    Isabeau turned onto her back and stared up at his face, scarred and tough, experience and danger in every line. Although the moonlight spilled across her, he was still hidden in the shadows, something she equated with him. He would always be that shadow man. Rugged. Tough. A little mysterious. And so—so experienced in every way she wasn’t. “Way out of my league.”
    His mouth quirked, his smile slow in coming. “You have it backward, honey. I’ve always known you were way out of my league with your innocence and your trust. You’re the most beautiful thing in my life, and I’m not talking about your exceptional body, which I’ll admit I’m