Leopard 05 - Savage Nature

past her own desire. She needed breathing space from him.
    Drake could tell Saria was struggling and he cursed himself for allowing her to service him when he couldn’t show her what making love was. He could see she wanted to be alone and he hated that he had to comply, to just leave her after she’d given him so much pleasure.
    “Will you be all right?”
    “I practically live in the swamp,” she said, studying the edge of the trees. “I can take pictures while you do whatever it is leopards do.”
    Uneasy, he shifted, staying close to her for a moment to rub his fur all over her, in his own way trying to reassure her before he set off. Drake searched the entire area, crisscrossing the wild terrain, using every means available to search out evidence of a leopard making a kill. He had never been so frustrated—or alarmed—in his life. There were numerous places where he scented blood and death, six to be exact, and he’d uncovered more empty bottles from the Boudreaux bar, but nowhere did he find evidence of a leopard. Not a single track. Not a scent mark. No fur.
    His leopard at times was very settled and then suddenly would become so agitated Drake feared he might not be able to control him. There seemed no pattern to the sudden surge of temper as Drake picked his way through several acres. Saria was at the center of the ever-widening circle he used to hunt for evidence and he made certain he could scent her at all times.
    He knew Saria couldn’t have imagined a leopard bite. It was fairly distinctive. She’d agonized over writing the letter to Jake, so there had to be truth in what she’d seen. Leopards left trails. They marked everything. Where they’d been. Territories they moved through. It was natural behavior and, although he was extremely strong and controlled, he doubted if he could stop his leopard from marking. Especially after a kill.
    He retraced every step, aware time was slipping away. He didn’t trust the marsh at night. The lair of leopards was so out of control, it was impossible to know what they might do next. Before anything else, he had to keep Saria safe. He needed to get back to the inn, shower, collect his team and meet Saria’s brothers. There was nothing here to indicate leopard, but there was no doubt in his mind that Fenton’s Marsh was a killing ground.
    He made his way back to Saria as the sun was setting. Layers of crimson red, burnt orange and antique gold filled the sky, turning the reflecting waters surrounding the tip of Fenton’s Marsh into shades of color. An alligator, so still it appeared to be a log, sat on the bank, just above the reeds. A slight breeze created a ripple through the field of reeds, so that waves appeared to be lapping at the alligator’s feet. The gator was large, at least eighteen feet or more, a majestic, prehistoric creature from another age.
    Bats wheeled and dipped over the water, feasting on insects, small dark bodies against the colorful sky. The birds walking like stick figures in the reeds seemed no more than cardboard silhouettes against the brilliant colors of the sunset. The tree trunks reflected in the water made it look like a painting, shimmering colors of gold and red.
    The swamp was breathtaking as the sun came down. Saria crouched low, eye to her camera, capturing the beauty of the coming evening in a frozen image. Her clothes were streaked with dirt and her hair was wild, but she belonged there in the midst of all that beauty. She took his breath away. He could see the outline of her breast pushing against her T-shirt, that soft inviting curve, her narrow rib cage and tucked-in waist. As she shifted position, he admired the curve of her butt and hips.
    Saria moved with confidence in spite of the sun going down. She was unafraid, even though she was well aware of the dangers of the swamp. She took several pictures, snapping quickly, and he waited patiently so as not to disturb her. She was leopard. She would know he was there.
    When she slowly straightened, stretching to loosen tight muscles, he shifted, emerging naked, going for his clothes. She turned to watch him, raising the camera to her eye again and snapping as he pulled on his jeans.
    “You didn’t?”
    “Just your face.” She laughed. “You had such a shocked look I couldn’t resist. You’re not the only perv here, you know.”
    He loved that she was unapologetic about enjoying his body. He found it strange that he’d only just met her. It seemed a