Leopard 04 - Wild Fire

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    9
    SHAKEN, her entire body trembling, Isabeau clutched at Conner’s shoulders for support. “What is it?”
    She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe right.
    “We have company coming this way,” he said. “The forest is getting mighty crowded these days.” He wrapped his arm around her and drew her beneath his shoulder, sliding back farther into the brush.
    “We’ll be fine. The boys are closing in on them.”
    “Them?” she echoed faintly. If survival meant being alert at all times—she wasn’t going to make it. He had caught the scent of the intruders, or felt them in some way, while she’d been overcome with her own passion. How did he do that? She was almost upset with him, even though she knew it was a skill he needed— they needed—to survive.
    “Two men. They move like they know the forest.”
    “I don’t understand.” She didn’t understand what he meant, but more than that, she didn’t understand how her body could be screaming for relief, every nerve ending crying out for him to stay—to keep his attention solely on her. It was stupid in the face of danger, but she’d been so consumed by him, aware only of him, thinking he had the same awareness and need and obsession with her.
    “Most people come into the rain forest and try to dominate, hacking their way, but these men are familiar and comfortable with it, telling us perhaps they inhabit the interior on a regular basis.” His palm curled around her nape and he dipped his head, skimming the side of her neck with a trail of kisses. “I could kill them just for interrupting us.”
    It was his voice, shaking a little, rough—even harsh, revealing he meant those damning words that ironically allowed her to forgive him for his survival skills. She leaned into him and let him hold her close, trying hard to cool the rush of heat that had sent her body into meltdown.
    “Take a breath. It helps.”
    “Does it?”
    He laughed softly, a mere thread of sound. “Not really. But we’ll pretend. When I’m with you, Isabeau, it’s a little like lighting a match to a stick of dynamite. I can’t seem to control it.” His teeth nipped her shoulder and he buried his face briefly against her neck, obviously struggling to cool the heat of his body as well. He was still thick and hard and, in spite of the potential gravity of the situation, she felt happy.
    “At least it’s both of us.”
    “How could you think otherwise?” He lifted his head and his gaze jumped from the forest to her and stared with that focused piercing intent that always managed to set fire to her blood. “Is it your cat who wants me?” His voice was velvet soft. Almost a caress. But there was just the slightest hint of uncertainty in his query.
    “Why would you think that?”
    A leopard grunted. Birds took flight. Several howler monkeys called out a warning. She couldn’t help the little gasp of alarm that just seemed to slip out.
    Conner pushed her behind him. “Never panic, Isabeau. In any situation your brain is always your best weapon whether you’re in leopard or human form. There’s always a moment when you’ll have the advantage. All these defense techniques we’re teaching you are great, but conditioning and thinking are always going to be your best weapons.”
    He spoke matter-of-factly, imparting the information even as he crouched lower in the brush, shifting position so he could find the slight breeze moving through the forest. Low, on the floor, there was rarely a wind unless a big enough storm generated it. Mostly the wind stayed in the canopy, but with his acute Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    senses he could gather the information needed. Isabeau tried to follow his example. She was determined to learn, to be an asset to him.
    She caught a faint scent drifting in the air and recognized it immediately from Adan’s village. His people used roots for soap. She waited a few moments, aware Conner must have known, yet he didn’t show himself and neither did any of the others. They weren’t trusting, and maybe that was a lesson in itself.
    Two men emerged into the clearing. Both wore only loincloths, one in sandals, the other barefoot. The rain forest was so humid, clothes hampered anyone routinely moving through the interior, and most wore the minimum. She knew that from experience. Even she dressed in as little as possible when she worked.
    She recognized the