The female leopard hissed at him, whirling around in a circle, trying to get past him, but he blocked her every way until she took the only out left to her and headed in the direction the male wanted her to go. This time she didn’t run from him, clearly already tired from trying the impossible—fighting the demands of her hormones and the urgent need to mate.
Again, he was careful, keeping a safe distance, but this time he paced alongside of her, testing the air to ensure they were once again alone. Every now and then, the female would rub along the trees. Eventually the action became more frequent and she would roll in the vegetation almost playfully, submissively, but when she crouched for the first time and he approached her, she spat at him and leapt away.
Remy retreated farther to allow the female leopard more freedom. No other leopards—or humans—appeared to be in the area, and clearly Bijou had withdrawn once again to allow her female her time. Her buff-colored coat with the dark rosettes allowed her to nearly disappear at times as she padded on her silent paws through the vegetation and trees. Every few feet she would stop and crouch, but if the male got to close, she would rebuff him.
The rebuffs became less and less threatening and her actions more and more enticing. She lured the male closer still, with tantalizing chemical messages, vocal calls, seductive rolls and sensuous stretches, all directed toward the large male. The male became more aggressive and possessive as she crouched again, this time blanketing her, driving his teeth into the back of her neck to hold her in place.
Hours later, exhausted, both cats broke apart, the little female retreating to the shade of the trees as the dawn began to break. The male lay close to her, watching over her and resting for a few minutes before getting to his feet and nudging her up. Reluctantly she obeyed, too tired to fight him as he pushed her onward.
The male leopard retreated enough to allow Remy to think logically. He was exhausted, and Bijou had to be as well. The two leopards had had sex for hours, over and over as their species did. They still had to make it back to the Inn before they could be seen.
It took only a few minutes to make it to the edge of the swamp and circle around to the lake where the back of Saria’s property stretched out in front of them. Remy kept them inside the grove of trees as long as possible, testing the wind and air for signs of human activity before they sprinted across the open grass for the Inn itself.
He leapt up to the branches of the tree closest to her second-story balcony, showing her the way back to her room. The next leap took him onto the railing and then to the floor of the balcony. The smaller leopard followed him, head down, sides heaving, barely making it over the rail to flop down onto her side.
Remy shifted to his human form, opened the French door and stepped back to allow the small leopard into her bedroom. “Shift back, Blue,” he encouraged. “Just let her go, take your form back.”
The cat looked at him. There was something in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. He could shift fast enough to protect himself if she launched an attack. Her leopard was exhausted—hell—they both were exhausted. Bijou would barely be able to move once she returned to her human form. That first shifting was exhilarating, but it was definitely draining. Instead of launching herself at him, the small female leopard walked past him, nose in the air. He’d never seen an animal look so haughty and regal and dignified.
She went straight into the bathroom and the door slammed behind her. Remy let out his breath, unaware he’d even been holding it. He caught up a towel and wrapped it around his hips, sinking down into the comfortable chair facing the French doors. He felt every muscle in his body, sore and bruised from the fight with the other male and long sessions of rough sex. His leopard might not be sore, but it was different for him as a human.
He glanced toward the bathroom door. The silence went on for so long he stirred, determined to go to her, but then the water in the shower went on. He leaned back and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He needed sleep—a very long sleep, but there was no way it was going to happen until he talked to Bijou and found out why she was so angry with him.
The water seemed to go on forever. He sighed. He needed a shower as well. His muscles were going to get stiff sitting there; he had to make himself move. He stood up, stretched and went to the French doors to pull the drapes. Hand on the pull cord, he paused, movement catching his eye. Down by the edge of the swamp, something moved in the brush, just enough to stir the leaves the wrong direction.
Not wanting to draw the eye to him, he inched freeze-frame, much like his leopard counterpart, until he was back in the shadows, but able to see out the French doors. He waited patiently, all fatigue forgotten, holding still and sending up a silent prayer that Bijou wouldn’t choose that moment to walk into the room.
As he watched, a golden leopard thrust his head through the brush to look up at the Inn. It stood there for a long while, just staring, and scenting the air. Very carefully the leopard emerged, until it was fully in the open, something none of them did unless absolutely necessary—as Remy had done in order to track Bijou. Robert Lanoux was up to something, and it couldn’t be good.
Remy had considered that the killer might be leopard. He knew it was possible to disguise any odor, even from a leopard. It had been done by one of his kind before and everyone in the lair was aware of those gruesome killings. Any shifter could hunt as a leopard and kill as a man or vice versa. As he watched, the golden leopard reached high and raked one of the trees near the Inn. He scent-marked several others before whirling around and rushing back into the safety of the swamp.
Remy frowned. Had Drake been home, he would have taken Robert’s actions as a challenge for leadership. To come onto Drake’s property and scent mark and leave rake signs on trees would garner swift retaliation by the lair’s leader—and Robert had fought and lost to Drake before. In fact, it was apparent that Drake could have killed him easily. So why would Robert take such a chance? Nothing about Robert’s actions made any sense. He knew Remy could kill him. He knew Remy’s leopard could as well.
The water went off abruptly, and Remy pulled the drapes, darkening the room, certain that Robert had retreated to the safety of his own property, but taking no chances. He swung around to face Bijou as she emerged. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she wore a robe. There were shadows under her eyes, bruises and love bites on her neck. He didn’t think it would have mattered if she’d come out wrapped in a garbage bag, his body immediately reacted with urgent demands—and he was damned tired. There was no getting around it and there was no hiding it.
He saw the flare of desire in her eyes, quickly veiled by her long lashes. She shook her head. “Don’ you have a place to sleep?”
He glanced at the bed.
Bijou sighed. “It’s not goin’ to happen, Remy. I need sleep desperately, and right now, I don’ like you very much.”
“Why? What the hell did I do wrong?”
She recoiled for just a moment at his tone, and then her chin went up. “Figure it out. In the meantime, I’m goin’ to bed to sleep, so go away.”
“That’s not goin’ to happen, Blue.” He threw her words right back at her. “I’m stayin’ right here with you.”
“You can’t tell me Saria won’t give you a place to sleep.” Bijou stalked across the room to the edge of the bed, yanked down the covers, and tossed her robe aside.
Before she could hide, he saw the dark smudges on her body. She moved a little stiffly as if, like him, her body ached. He reached out and caught the covers, holding them open for her so she could crawl in the bed.
“I’m takin’ a quick shower, and then I’ll be sleepin’ right next to you,” he warned.
Bijou slid into bed and turned on her side, clearly savoring the feel of the mattress and soft sheets. “Do whatever, Remy. I’m too tired to argue. Just please don’ wake me, because I don’ want to have sex with you.”
“I’m waitin’ for lightning to strike you, woman,” he replied.
She didn’t even look at him, her lashes already veiling her eyes so he couldn’t read her expression. It didn’t matter. He knew. She craved him every bit as much as he did her.