Leopard's Prey

more animal than man, his face and body utterly still, his entire being focused on Emile. The hair on her neck stood up and something wild deep inside unfurled and stretched. She could feel the languid stretch and that same steady focus on Remy as he had on Emile. She blinked and the strange wildness in her faded, gone as if it had never been. Sometimes she felt she had faulty wiring, that elusive feeling blinking on and off.
    Remy’s gaze jumped to her face. His expression softened. His eyes grew warm and he winked at her.
    Her heart went into double time. There it was—the perfect reason not to trust Remy or be charmed by him. She didn’t know what just happened, but she knew what she’d seen. She was a great observer of humans, and Remy was extremely dangerous. Hidden beneath that very charming and sexy and—so okay, it had to be said—attractive, magnetic, and every other word for just plain a woman’s fantasy, was something else. She’d had her warning. It couldn’t be denied no matter how much she wanted to do it. Under the surface of her childhood hero was something dark and scary.
    Damn it all. She was going to be one of
those
women. She smiled for the camera as she acknowledged to herself that flash of truth wasn’t going to get in her way of dreaming about him. All it took was that smile, the warmth in his eyes, that focus on her making her feel as if Remy saw only her, not everything and everyone around him, which was far closer to the truth.
    Remy held out his hand to her and she put hers into his without even hesitating, without even reprimanding herself for being an idiot and not running for the hills when she had the chance.
    Remy leaned close, his mouth against her ear, his warm breath stirring her blood into a surging wave of pure heat rushing through her body. “Stop thinkin’ so much,” he admonished.
    Who was thinking? Certainly not her, especially when he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss along the back of it, and then pulled her hand against his chest and trapped it there—right over his beating heart. She was well and truly lost. A certified idiot when it came to romance and men, because she didn’t care what that look had been all about. She cared that Remy was holding her hand so close to him that she could feel that steady beat of his heart.
    He hurried her out of the café through the back entrance and maneuvered his way down the block toward the voodoo shop. She went with him willingly, enjoying the feel of his body moving against hers as they walked together.
    “I don’ like men very much,” Bijou admitted, compelled to confess.
    “I know,” he said, in no way perturbed.
    “I’m just sayin’,” she insisted. “You need to hear me, Remy.” She didn’t care if she was making a fool of herself. It had to be said. She looked good, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know that, but she was broken. She didn’t relate to men. She didn’t let them close to her. She couldn’t have a physical relationship because she couldn’t ever let herself get that intimate.
    Maybe she was reading Remy all wrong, but she wasn’t going to lead him on. She knew she was flirtatious with him, and she was so attracted physically she wanted to rub herself up against him like a cat, but she also knew she wouldn’t get past the initial first base. She’d rather make a fool of herself than have him think they could have any kind of physical relationship.
    “I hear you, Blue. It’s just that you’re not makin’ any sense right now. Keep it up and I’ll have to show you what I mean and then you’re going to go all rabbit on me and try runnin’.” There was amusement in his voice.
    Once again she had no idea what he meant. Remy could be quite cryptic when he wanted.
    “It’s not that,” she said. “I’m not a coward. I may throw up when I see a brutal murder, but I don’ run, not even from stalkers.”
    “That’s a good thing, because you’re about to get another one.”
    “Very funny.” She was through trying to tell him she wasn’t going to sleep with him no matter how charming he was. She wasn’t built for one-night stands and she didn’t trust anyone enough to actually sleep in a bed with them, so she was sorry, out of luck, even if the man was fine like Remy. He wouldn’t listen to her, so that was on his shoulders.
    His soft laughter brushed against the insides of her mind, curling her toes and sending alarms shrieking through her entire