th his stillness. He often appeared to be more civilized than his other cousins, even sometimes seemed to have a bit of a sense of humor. He had learned, over the years, to hide the terrible pent-up rage inside of him, the rage in his leopard that refused to leave either of them and manifested itself in brutal ways—fighting or in sex clubs.
“Thank you. I’m afraid I’m not making a very good impression on you. I think my encounter this morning really shook me up more than I thought it did.”
He was very aware that his touch shook her up. His closeness. She couldn’t stop staring hungrily at the bulge in the front of his jeans. Her gaze narrowed, centered there, and she even leaned forward just a small scant inch or so without being aware of it. Her tongue touched her lip, moistened it. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. His cock burned, was stretched so tight he thought he might burst.
She squirmed, trying to ease the terrible burning between her legs. He had the control thanks to years of being a dominant. She had none. Her cat was giving her fits, raging at her in desperate hunger at the close proximity of her chosen mate. Her skin was beginning to glow. Sevastyan began to fear that her female was closer to the emergence than he first thought.
Normally, a female would come close to the surface and then retreat, only to reappear a few days to a week later. Often an appearance would be so brief and elusive that a male leopard would barely catch the scent of a female. This was a very advanced appearance. Flambé’s leopard was close to emerging—too close to give him time for a real courtship.
Sevastyan regretted that. He would have to change his plans. She needed care, especially with the kind of lifestyle she would be entering into with him. He was Mitya’s bodyguard and he always would be. They lived a dangerous life. There was no question about that. He would expect his wife, his mate, to live that life with him. He had no idea how being his wife would affect her business, and she obviously loved her business.
Then there was the fact that he needed his woman to give him sex any way he liked it. Anywhere he wanted it. He knew that was the result of his screwed-up upbringing in the lair from hell. Having a woman for his own didn’t make that need go away as he’d hoped it might. He found the hunger grew deeper in him just being close to her. That was something she would have to live with as well.
“You’ve made an impression on me, Flambé. More than any other woman I’ve ever met. I knew when I did the research on your company with you at the helm that I wanted you to continue where your father had left off here on the property. After having met you, I’m very interested in the woman.”
He wanted to make that plain. No beating around the bush. His body was saying it for him, but he was determined that she understand he wanted her for who she was. “There is quite a lot about you on the internet and I read it all.” He made his confession hoping he didn’t sound worse than the man who had been stalking her.
Her gaze jumped back up to his. She licked her lips again and then her gaze drifted down to his groin, as if she couldn’t help herself. One hand moved up to her hairline where the bump was hidden, as if it was hurting her.
“I tried to do research on you.” She made it a confession, but her voice sounded a little vague, as if her mind was drifting along with her gaze. “There wasn’t much to find. There was hardly anything in fact. A little more on your cousins than you. I think your name was mentioned once.”
Sevastyan forced himself to walk away from her, over to the switch that controlled the air conditioner. It was on the wall beside the bank of windows. As he crossed to the wall, just above their heads strobes went off along the upper corners of the room, letting him know that several people had tripped alarms set in the ground leading up to the house.
He stood at the window, his wide shoulders framed within the glass. “We’re about to have company, plamya.” He glanced over his shoulder and then crooked his finger at her. “Come here. Tell me if this is your gentleman friend. He hasn’t come alone.”
2
FLAMBÉ rose slowly but without hesitation, although she seemed a little wobbly, and crossed to his side. He slid his arm around her, pulling her beneath his shoulder so she could fit snugly into the window frame with him. He could have easily moved over to give her room, but he wanted to see her reaction to his proprietary claim on her. She seemed to accept him, just the way her leopard accepted his close proximity.
The man coming toward the house was still a distance away and was striding boldly up the walkway, two men on either side of him. He acted as if he owned the property, and no one would ever think to oppose him.
“He has more men with him. They’re hidden from view in the shrubbery on either side of the house. I’ve counted at least six, but most likely there are more.” Sevastyan was matter-of-fact. Calm. He kept his arm around her.
A little shudder went through her body and she took an involuntary step back as if to get away from the window. At the same time, she tried to tug on his waist to take him with her. Her little leopard pushed very close to protect her. Shturm roared and clawed for freedom, raging to be set free to exact vengeance for the bruises and the injuries on Flambé.
“You’re safe in here with me, honey,” Sevastyan assured softly, although he agreed with his leopard and wanted to do a little hunting of his own. “They can’t get in. Even if they did decide to shoot at us, the windows are bulletproof glass. I’ll text my team if need be. I want to see what they do. Who is this joker, Flambé? Now that he’s bent on attacking me as well, don’t you think I have the right to know?”
Sevastyan could see it took effort, but Flambé pulled her gaze away from the big man coming up the walkway with his deliberate strides. She looked up at Sevastyan, meeting his eyes. Whatever she saw there reassured her.
She took a deep breath before answering him. “His name is Franco Matherson. He and his brothers say they’re ‘big game’ hunters. They’re very wealthy. They’re really looking for female shifters. They ran across one of the female strawberry leopards my father was sponsoring. She was taking one last run as a leopard before leaving the country. It was silly of her to chance it. Matherson spotted her and nearly shot her just for her unusual coat. No one knew about red leopards so it didn’t occur to him that she could possibly be a shifter.”
“So even though he’s a shifter, a leopard, he thought it was appropriate to kill a beautiful and different leopard that he spotted just because he could.” There was a wealth of disgust in him and it showed in his voice. What shifter would kill a leopard for its pelt? She was speaking the truth but it was also mixed with lies. He didn’t call her on it.
“Right? He turns my stomach, just the fact that he would even admit that he was contemplating shooting a leopard because she had a strawberry coat. In any case, he tracked her to a cave. She went in as a leopard and emerged as a human. He knew immediately that she had to be a shifter. She just managed to escape him. He eventually tracked her here. Of course, she was gone and my father had died by the time he unraveled where she had gone to.”
“But he found you and knows you’re a shifter.”
She nodded once more, turning her gaze back to the window and the approaching man. He was closer, looking more arrogant than ever. Sevastyan had seen so many men like him. They thought their money somehow entitled them to anything they wanted. They bought their way through life. They took from people and intimidated and stepped on others to get their way. Like his father and uncles, they brutalized and even killed, knowing they could get away with it.
Flambé had some knowledge of what and who Franco Matherson was. She was good at researching her clients and she most likely had done the same, researching the man stalking her. Still, there was something in her voice that told him something wasn’t quite right. She was either omitting something or not telling him the exact truth. There was more to the story than she was willing to divulge.
Sevastyan assessed Matherson as he came toward them. He was d
efinitely leopard. It was in the way he moved. The play of his muscles beneath his skin. And he let his leopard out to fight. Most likely he pitted his leopard against wild leopards and enjoyed the battles. He looked like a brutal man, and he wanted Flambé. There was no question about that.
Sevastyan slid his hand up to the nape of her neck, his fingers beginning a slow, soothing massage. “Do you know what he was going to do when he tried to throw you up against the car? Your leopard is close to emerging. She’s rising and male leopards want to claim her. This is her first rising and she’s looking for a mate. My leopard has confirmed that and he’s willing to mate with her. When you’re close to me, what does your female do?”
“She acts like an idiot,” Flambé admitted, disgust in her voice. “She’s rolling around like some little sex kitten.” She pressed tighter against him, rubbing her body along his, mimicking her leopard but barely noticing she was doing so. She pulled away with a muttered apology, her face going red.