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A small frown slid across her face but when he raised an eyebrow, she just shook her head. He pressed his thumb to her lips. “One of us needs to know how to talk. I’m good with a gun, I think you should take up talking.”

Her lips curved under the pad of his thumb. They felt soft. Her breath was warm on his skin. It was painful how easily she got to him. He had been around other women longer, never a lover, but other women, and none of them got under his skin the way she had.

“I’m good with a gun.”

She made him want to laugh. Somehow the world was a better place just because she was in it. She told the truth, even when it wasn’t easy for her, once she realized Evangeline had no part in their sins. The amusement faded as he thought about his sister-in-law.

“She’s an angel. Evangeline. We realized she was most likely an angel sent down to help us since we all lived in hell,” he admitted aloud, because his mind had gone there.

“Why do you say that?”

“Don’t you think so too?” he challenged.

She was silent for so long he didn’t think she’d answer, but in the end, she sighed and nodded, her hair sweeping his chest. “Yes. She let me back into her life immediately. She gave me a job and a home all because she knew I was in trouble.”

Her gaze drifted over his face. “Why do you think she is?”

He rolled over to stare up at the ceiling again. “I don’t like thinking too much about my childhood, let alone talking about it. None of us do. Not my brother and not my cousins. Our leopards are killers. They hate every moment of their existence and are always out for blood. That means we’re at war with a part of ourselves at all times. We put bars on the windows and have metal bars across the doors so when we sleep, if they get loose, they can’t get out to hurt anyone.”

He glanced at her. She was propped up on one elbow, her amber-colored eyes wide, those long lashes framing them making them seem even bigger. Her lips were slightly parted as if she might protest, but she remained silent. There was shock and compassion in her expression and one hand slid over his chest, her palm seeking and then finding the beat of his heart.

He felt those fingers, her palm, the way she touched him, branding him so that her touch sank beneath skin and found its way to bone. Her name was written there. Ashe. His woman. It didn’t matter so much what happened in the future, or what came before, he had this moment with her. This peace. He let himself feel everything. He let the tension drain out of his body. Felt the calmness of this leopard. That was a victory he would savor for the rest of his life. His leopard content to just lie still, waiting for another stroke of her fingers.

She looked particularly beautiful with her hair tumbling around her face and over one breast. He liked knowing a part of him was still inside her. Looking at her lips just made him want to kiss them, and kissing seemed to lead to out of control behavior by both of them.

“Tell me more, Timur.”

Those fingers fucking owned him, moving up his body to his lips. Sliding over them with soft little pads. Stroking caresses, she didn’t even seem to notice when her touch was making his head explode and his body throb with pure need. Every one of those reactions told him he was alive. On fire. Headed in the right direction. Toward something big. Something that would save him.

Did she feel the same way? His gaze moved over her face. Possessive. Still a little unsure. What was he giving her, after all? A whole lot of bad. The trouble coming for him—and for his brother and cousins—was far worse than she could imagine—and it was coming for her because Lazar believed she had to pay for the sins of her parents. He knew the cruelty of leopards and shifters gone rogue. Gone bad. Out for blood. That was all he could ever offer her. He’d tried to get out, and now he was in so deep he didn’t even know how to tell her.

“Timur.”

Her voice wrapped around his heart. It was insane to feel this way about her so fast, an overwhelming sense of rightness. Of need. More than those things; bigger. He hadn’t known it was possible for him to feel so much. He understood Fyodor’s desire to give Evangeline whatever she wanted. It wasn’t as if they could offer safety. Or even a decent reputation.

“Don’t stop talking. Tell me what your leopard is doing right at this minute.”


Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal