Read Leopard 04 - Wild Fire for Free Online

side of the door. Conner stayed where he was, his back to the door, depending on Rio while he quartered the area surrounding the house, looking for possible ghosts—men sliding in under cover while the front person distracted them.
    The door opened behind him. He knew from the sudden draft. A scent filled his lungs. Rich. Potent.

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    Wild. Her. He inhaled instinctively. His leopard leapt and raked. His mate. His woman. He would know that scent anywhere. His body reacted instantly, flooding his veins in a rush of heat, engorging his cock, sending his pulse rocketing so that it thundered in his ears.
    Rio kicked the door closed with the toe of his boot, and jammed the barrel of his gun against Adan Carpio’s temple. He knew better than to threaten the life of a leopard’s mate. “If she moves, you die.”
    Conner half turned. He could barely move, his body trembling, the shock registering along with her absolute loathing.
    Liar. The word lived and breathed between them.
    Conner inhaled and took her loathing into his lungs. Her eyes never left his face. Burned over him, over the four scars there, branding him all over again.
    Betrayer.
    Time slowed down. Tunneled. He was aware of every detail of her. Her face. That beautiful, oval face with nearly luminescent skin, so soft a man wanted to touch her the moment he saw her. Her large eyes.
    Golden sometimes. Amber really. Or green. Emerald. Depending on how close her cat was to the surface. Her lashes, so long and curly, a sweep of fringe that accented her catlike eyes.
    Isabeau Chandler.
    She’d haunted him on the nights he managed to get a few hours’ sleep. That long, sleek tawny hair, so thick. His fingers remembered tunneling through it. Her mouth, full lips, soft beyond anything he’d ever known. Talented. Inviting. A fantasy mouth. He could feel her lips on him, moving over his body, bringing him paradise. Completion. Peace. Her body. All feminine curves, every bit as alluring as her face. His.
    Damn her to hell. She belonged to him. Not to the son of a bitch standing beside her with his cocky arrogance. Her body was his, her smile, all of her, every damn inch belonged to him alone. The man with her hadn’t moved a muscle. Conner didn’t really look at him, didn’t care who he was. After all, he was already a dead man, and she should have known it. The law of the jungle. Higher law. Their law.
    Conner felt every muscle lock into place. His head turned slowly, inch by slow inch in the stalking freeze-frame motion of a large jungle cat. He held himself still, his leopard barely held in check, dwelling on the strong fingers wrapped around hers. He shifted his gaze, a single sound escaping—rumbling up from inside his raging leopard, into his chest to come pouring out his throat. It was low. Chilling. There was nothing human in that sound. An animal’s hatred. A leopard’s challenge. One male to another. The low growl carried through the room, cut through the conversation and music so that all conversation ceased.
    “Don’t do it,” Rio warned. “Step back while you have the chance,” he cautioned the man.
    Conner heard him as if from a great distance. His world had narrowed to one woman. No one, nothing could stop him, not even Rio. His cat was too fast. He knew it—they knew it. He’d have the throat ripped out in seconds. The growl persisted, a rumble never rising above a soft carrying note that raised the hair on the backs of necks. He knew killing the man was unacceptable in the civilized world, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but to remove the other male from the side of his mate.
    Isabeau let go of her companion’s hand and Rio jerked him back, away from her.
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said softly.
    Taunting him. Daring him to lie to her again. Her voice was low. Sexy. Sliding over his skin, teasing his body with memories of the way her mouth