Leopard 04 - Wild Fire

strong, masculine face. She needed to keep him talking because it was the only defense she had. The sound of their voices, the passage of time. Conner had to come back soon.
    She drew in her breath. “Did you tell Imelda about all of us being leopard?”
    “Why would I?” He picked up her teacup and moved across the floor to the teapot.
    Isabeau covered her sigh of relief with a small throat clearing. He was so big. Intimidating. He seemed invincible to her. And where was Conner? Surely he must have unraveled Ottila’s trail and should be back.
    “Imelda should never have taken those kids. I tried to tell her, but she likes being the boss. I knew Adan would never sit still for it. She’s so arrogant she doesn’t listen to her advisors, not even her security advisors.”
    “So you’ve left her on her own.”
    From the small pack he carried around his neck, he drew a small vial and, thumbing it open, poured it into the cup of tea right in front of her. Her entire body tightened up. She half rose, but he gave her a stern look and she subsided.
    “I’m not drinking that.”
    “Then we’ll do it the hard way and pour it down your throat. It really is all the same to me, Isabeau.”
    “What is it?”
    “Not a date rape drug. I haven’t stooped so low that I’d rape a woman. When I take you, it will be because you can’t help yourself, you’ll need me.”
    She wasn’t going to argue how illogical that was, not when he was coming at her with the teacup. She leapt out of her chair, this time remembering her cat, calling on the lazy hussy to help out. Why wasn’t she outraged? Why wasn’t she fighting for their survival? For Conner’s survival. And, God help her, where was Conner?
    Deep inside her, her cat stirred, scented the air and found her own mark on Ottila. Another rival for her affections. She stretched languorously. Isabeau hissed at her to subside. Where was the famous leopard loyalty? She cursed herself for not knowing the rules.
    “What is that?”
    “Choose for him, life or death.”
    She couldn’t look away from his eyes. It was difficult not to believe him. He seemed invincible and absolutely sure of himself. She touched her tongue to her lip, for one awful moment considering going with him. By why hadn’t he just knocked her out and taken her out of the cabin? This wasn’t about choice, it never was. It was about something altogether different. Her brain went click, click, click as pieces fell into place.
    “You were always going to kill him, right from the beginning, weren’t you?”
    He caught her around the throat, letting her feel his immense strength. Isabeau didn’t struggle. There was a warning in his eyes she heeded. “He’s been inside you. His mark is on you. He can’t live.”
    She swallowed hard. “You were never going to share me with Suma.”
    “Not in a million years.
    She lifted her chin and indicated the tea. “Tell me what’s in that.”

    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    “I don’t want you to feel what I’m going to do to you.” Her heart slammed so hard against her chest she was afraid it would burst. Fear breathed through her like a living entity. He said it so matter-of-factly, not blinking, no sympathy, no remorse.
    “What are you going to do to me?”
    “Not you. Him. He has to be made to suffer. To be off his game. His leopard will go into a rage and he won’t be able to control it. I’ve studied him. He’s methodical. And good. I don’t believe in being stupid.
    I need an edge and the only way I’m going to get it is to hurt you, or crawl into the doctor’s house and savage his young friend. Either would set him off.”
    She knew he deliberately threatened Jeremiah to coerce her to drink the drugged tea. “You’re going to hurt me?” she echoed. He was right, Conner would never forgive himself and he’d turn the rain forest inside out looking for Ottila. He’d follow him right into a trap. She looked into Ottila’s eyes, forcing courage into frozen muscles.
    “You need to punish me, don’t you?” In his own sick way, he felt she’d betrayed him—betrayed their relationship. She’d been deceived by his absolute calm.
    “Drink the tea, Isabeau,” he instructed softly.
    She took the cup from him, her fingers trembling, looking down into the dark liquid. He’d made certain the water wasn’t hot enough to burn him if she threw it at him. He actually expected her to obey him and